#it does not help that we often see them go through hell together

[marioposssa]

After the last post I basically spent all my free time re-reading, so here's a bit more thoughts and statistics on pet names in Temeraire, including the other aviator pairs, from the view of the aviators.

The one pet name that we get between Harcourt and Lily is 'dearest'. This is mentioned twice in 'His Majesty's Dragon', and twice again in 'Empire of Ivory'. At least two of those times are when Harcourt is fearing for Lily's life and in great distress. Unfortunately we see far too little of the pair together in later books, though there are some delightful tidbits about Lily and Harcourt's 'Egg'.

Berkley, in contrast seems to not have a set pet name for Maximus, but rather shows his affection through loving insults. In the first book we get the iconic 'great lummox' and 'great coward'. 'Lummox' is also back shortly at the beginning of Empire of Ivory as well as 'ridiculous lummox' and 'great mumping lummox' and wait, maybe there is a pattern!

In Blood of Tyrants the pair is back with 'damned lummox' and 'mannerless gobbler', Maximus is also delightfully often in Temeraire's narratives in the later books and cheerfully insulting Berkley's constitution. In general Berkley likes to lovingly complain about Maximus' appetite or manners, which is of course not at all ironic coming from the man.

Last of the original main squad I would be very much remiss in not also including Granby (called 'Dear Granby' even, one time by Temeraire in League of Dragons) and Iskierka.

While there are a few mentions of Granby adoringly calling her a nuisance, the one I love the most is in the end of 'Black Powder War', when directly after hatching, Granby aptly describes her as 'a proper terror'.

In direct address Granby almost always calls Iskierka 'dear one', which is at least once in every book. With the exception of 'Black Powder War', where he calls her 'dear creature'. There's also one sneaky Granby using 'dearest' in 'Tongues of Serpents', when he's trying to wiggle out of wearing the super ostentatious uniform.

Special mention to their talk towards the end of 'Crucible of Gold' where Granby finally sets some boundaries and it still feels like the most heartfelt endearment. "“The most splendid thing I am ever like to have,” ... “is a Kazilik dragon, dear one.", indeed.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I reread Dauntless Matchmaker recently and I love it, could you please make another part? Either that or another part for One Hell of a Bellhop, Legal Compensation, or Mr Flavors Soda, any of the above would be great, your choice ^-^

Danny skips up the stairs towards Wayne Manor's front entrance with a binder, a few notebooks, and his laptop tucked away in his carry bag. Humming under his breath, he raises his hand to knock. Before he can touch the wood, the door swings open to the beaming face of his fake boyfriend, Tim Drake.

"Hi!" The other gasps breathlessly. He adjusts his cardigan from where it had fallen off his left shoulder. Danny has noticed something about Tim. He was always so nervous and clumsy. The poor thing was taking his heartbreak badly.

"Hi, Tim." Danny grins. He holds up his NASA theme bag with pride. "I brought the stuff!"

His boss' brother lets out a string of nervous chuckles that slowly dissolve, coughing when he chokes on his spit. Alarmed, Danny started smacking his back in hopes of helping. He wishes he could say this was a one-time thing, but Tim, unfortunately, does this often.

"Master Tim?" Alfred calls from down the left hallway.

"I'm fine! Everything-cough-hack- everything is fine!" Tim screams back, entirely red and looking a tad bit mortified. Clearing his throat, he straightens to full height, back pin straight and looking every bit the young gentleman of his standing. "Shall we move to the viewing room?"

Danny knows he's only trying to save face, so he only smiles and steps inside. As they had agreed on two weeks ago, Danny loops his arm through Tim's, pressing himself close to the other's side, just as Alfred walks by.

The aged man seems pleased to see them so affectionate, which Damian said Danny had to play up because otherwise, it would not be believable. Tim only dated men and women who showed their care through physical touch, and he was often seen holding hands or looping arms with his partners.

As it is, Tim does his part well, beaming up at Danny. He was taller after hitting a second growth spurt, but sadly, he seemed to take after his mother rather than his father. Danny was only two inches taller than Tim.

On the other hand, Jazz grew like a weed. Once it became apparent, she took after Jack in height. Dan's appearance gave Danny hope that he would break the six-foot mark in a few years—you know, if the madness and devouring Plasmius didn't affect his development too much.

"What are you showing me today?" Tim asks as they stride past Damian. The younger boy makes a face, the same one Danny made whenever Jazz brought over a boy, and they were being sickly sweet. He offers his boss a smile in return, watching those intense green eyes roll.

"I brought evidence of why Yetis' healthcare is far superior to ours." Danny pats his bag with a satisfied smirk. "Nothing beats Frostbite."

Tim melts. "That's amazing. I can't wait to hear all about it. Then we could go get dinner. How does Divine Palace sound?"

"The upscale restaurant? I would need to change before I'm allowed in there. It has a dress code, doesn't it?"

Tim snuggles closer. "You can borrow one of my suits."

"You know it's bad luck to wear someone else's clothes?" Danny tells him they have just arrived at the viewing room. The projector is set up, and Danny is waiting to plug in his laptop. A sizeable plush couch is pushed in front of the large empty wall, where Tim plans to curl up and watch Danny's presentation.

Meeting someone who adored all the educational information about Ghosts and their culture was lovely. Danny's parents were more interested in the aspects of biology and anatomy than the sociology and anthropology he studied.

After he finished his slide show—sadly without pictures as ghosts disrupted the camera—he would show Tim his notes, which the two could flip through together on the couch. Since his PowerPoint lacked images, Danny settled for some drawings and blurry photos he had stored in his binder while exploring the Zone.

He started it when he was fourteen, gradually growing over the years.

"Why's that?" Tim asks, throwing himself on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. He places his elbow on the meat of his thigh and leans his head on his hand, his eyes never leaving Danny.

They seem to be shining, utterly captivated by the Halfa.

"It makes it easier for ghosts to overshadow you," Danny answers promptly, unzipping his bag to take out the materials from his bag. He had to look away from his friend because the way he was staring was making him a bit flustered.

"Overshadow?"

"It's another way of saying possession, but it's more politically correct." He responds, plugging in the wires to his laptop and watching the lock screen of his computer appear on the wall. "My sister's first boyfriend attempted to do that to her. Gave her some of his girlfriend's stuff so she could form around her and use Jazz as an anchor to stay on this plane."

"And you saved her before he could succeed," Tim sighs adoringly.

Danny puffs out his chest. "I did!"

Tim pressed a button on the side of his couch. At once, the thing expands, pushing the backrest down and expanding the bottom until it forms an even flat surface. Danny initially thought it was a recliner, but apparently, rich people had couches that could turn into beds in seconds.

He lays flat on his stomach, kicking his feet and leaning on both hands as he smiles like a loon at Danny. "That's amazing."

Danny bites his lip, trying to be modes,t but it's hard when he's being praised by someone like Tim Drake.

"Well, it's just what a good brother does. All I really had to do was use his bad luck against him, and really, Jazz sort of snapped out it when he tried to punch me," He babbles while scrambling to log into his account. He needs to do something before he bursts from all the giddy, mushy feeling in his chest. "It was nothing compared to when I had to win a pie-eating contest against Baker."

"Hmm?"

"Baker is a pasty theme ghost that is shockingly powerful. He locked me in a battle for five days before I convinced him to switch to a food theme contest." Danny laughs, shaking his head at the memories. "I was stuck in bed for a day with the biggest stomach ache, but I won that day. And victory was sweet."

Tim swoons.

Just as Danny is booting up the presentation, his superhearing catches the whispers of Tim's other siblings from the hallway. Damian had instructed him not to let anyone else in the household learn the truth of his contract because it would eventually get back to Alfred.

After meeting the man, he completely understands the paranoia.

"Who is that?" He's pretty sure that's the oldest Dick.

"Tim's new obsession." Answers Steph with a smirk in her words. "Apparently, he's some paranormal-obsessed conspiracy theorist."

"Why does he always go for the crazy ones?" Jason sighs dramatically.

"Have you seen Danny's biceps? Were it not for his health issues, I would have thought Tim found a secret off-duty hero."

Danny hastily focuses on his first slide, trying not to show his fear. Tim continues to watch him kick his feet and play with some of his hair. He has a habit of twirling his hair. Tim almost always does that whenever Danny sees him.

[yoonjae20]

Ric(hard) Fenton; Part 1

(Once again slightly inspired by @saltymarshmall0w 's prompt.)

Read on ao3.

Masterpost. Next.

“B, didn’t you promise us as you’d tell if there was a possibility of another secret child?” Tim asks as he stares at the black haired boy, who looks like he had been to hell and back to get here, with blue eyes — because of course, they are blue —  in front of the Manor’s door. 

He can’t help but feel unnerved by the way the boy evaded their security measures and how he hasn’t said a single word since Tim opened the door even when he can see the boy’s hands tremble.

“Yes?” Bruce's voice floats from further in the Manor, his barely audible gaunt drawing near.

“Then who the hell is this?” he asks just as the man turns the corner. He freezes at the sight of the kid, literally blue screening as he takes him in. 

“Actually he’s mine,” a too chipper voice announces and Tim nearly jumps out of skin as he turns to Dick.

The young man must see both Tim and Bruce doing the mental calculations in their heads because he interrupts before they can draw the wrong conclusions.

“If Bruce can go around adopting children, I can do the same.” Then he turns to the boy. “You can come in, Danny.” 

Tim is eerily reminded of a wary, frightened cat as the boy — Danny moves inside. His steps are too silent for a mere civilian. 

Bruce and Tim share a look and Tim knows that they are both asking themselves when Dick met the boy and why he never mentioned him with how familiar he acts around him as he easily tucks him into his side. 

Although neither of them wants to accept it, Dick has changed since the one year where he disappeared without a trace. He’d told them that he was shot leading to him to lose his memories and that he only retained his memories a few days before he came back, but Tim always had a feeling the older man was not telling the whole truth, hiding it behind an easy-going smile. He didn’t speak a single word about what happened during that year, claiming he didn’t remember much of it ever since his memories returned.

Not only that, but it had become even rarer than before that any of them would meet Dick at the manor (even Jason was at the Manor more often) — and when he was present he was always studying them with an intense stare as if he was searching for something in their expressions.

“Dick,” Bruce starts but the man waves him off.

“Later,” he says. “I need to see if I have any fresh clothes for Danny.”

Dick pulls the boy away and they head up the stairs. Tim gives it a minute before he follows, nodding at Bruce, who does the same. He hears them stop in the hallway and he pauses in his steps.

“What’s going on?” Tim hears the man's question and he sneaks closer when he can’t hear the boy’s response. He subtly uses his phone’s camera to peek around the corner. 

“What about Mom and Dad?” Dick asks in a hushed whisper and Tim knits his eyebrows together — confused about who his brother is talking about.

Danny winces with a pained expression.

“The GIW got them in custody for affiliating with and aiding an ectoplasmic entity,” he explains. “You are my only chance.”

“Jazz, Sam, Tucker?” Dick almost seems desperate and when the boy just shakes his head after each name, he runs a hand through his hair and curses. 

“And you are sure we can’t go to them?”

Tim can’t help but ask himself who they are talking about that Dick’s voice is so full of disdain. Danny vehemently shakes his head, eyes squeezed together like he is remembering something painful and when he speaks his voice is shaky.

“I don’t know what to do, Ric,” he says, clutching the top of his shirt like his heart is hurting and Tim’s eyebrows climb to the top of his hairline at the unusual nickname. “I can’t- I can’t do this alone…” 

“Fuck.” Dick takes a deep breath as he hugs Danny. “Okay. Yes, of course I’m coming with you, baby ghost. Just let me grab my things and then we’ll go on our way.” 

“You will not go anywhere.” 

Bruce steps in Dick’s path before Tim can stop him and he narrows his eyes at the pair. Danny flinches away from the man and Dick steps protectively in front of the boy.

Tim knows Bruce and Dick had their rough patches in the past but never like this. Never had Dick looked at Bruce like he was a threat. 

“I’m not in the mood, B,” Dick warns sharply. 

“And I’m not about to let you go off with someone that I haven’t vetted.”

Dick lets out a bitter huff of a laugh.

“Of course that’s the only thing you would focus on.” His voice is cold. “You’ll bulldoze your way through, and prod and condemn, not caring if you hurt someone innocent in the process as long as you can justify your actions. I don’t even know why I’m surprised at this point. It’s what happened to Jason after all.”

Bruce reels back like he’s been punched. 

“Now if that is all, I have to go save the people who actually treat me like family.”

This time nobody stops Dick as he leaves the house, Danny in tow. 

“Master Bruce, Master Tim,” Alfred’s voice tears Tim out of his trance and startles Bruce who froze in his spot. “Where is Master Dick?”

Dick trembles with barely suppressed fury as he leads Danny to his car.

He wanted to believe that Bruce was better — that he wouldn’t have led the Justice League on a hunt after a child, but the longer he is back in Gotham as Richard Grayson — the longer he is around who were supposed to be his “actual” family, the more he grows unsure about that fact. There is no easy trust between them — not the steadfast determination that no matter what happens, they’ll take his side. Not like the Fentons have. (It’s been barely 2 months and he misses being Ric Fenton — misses being Jack and Maddie’s son and Jazz and Danny’s older brother.)

Bruce has contingency plans about them for fuck’s sake. And while he understands that there might be situations where they would be on other sides — the time where he and the Teen Titans had to fight their mind controlled mentors comes to mind — it’s a scary thought. For the first time since ages — since Bruce had taken Robin away from him — he feels like he is on his own. 

Back then he had turned to Clark — to Superman. He was the one who gave him the name Nightwing but Dick is plagued by the nightmares he witnessed Danny having. He doesn’t think he can look at his uncle ever the same again. 

At the same time, he doesn’t know if Danny and him can do this alone. He glances at the boy as he drives out the gates to the manor — he looks incredibly drained. He’s even paler than usual and there’s a sheen of sweat over his whole body as he leans back in his seat, breaths shallow. 

As he drives through the streets of the Bowery a sudden thought comes to his mind. He tears the steering wheel around, tearing Danny out of his doze. He blinks at Dick, eyebrows knitted together when he sees that they are still in Gotham.

“Where are we going?” he asks and Dick gives him a smile that is all teeth.

“Just a little pit stop.”

Jason and Dick don’t talk much — or to be more precise they don’t talk about the important stuff. Not about the — ‘I broke down when I heard about your death and I blame myself for not being there’ or ‘I was sure you hated me and you were glad I was gone’. They barge into each other's apartments, spar or get drunk together and cling to each other when they are sure the other isn’t awake to witness it. It’s not quite healthy — but it’s something better than when Jason was still Robin.

So when the door to one of his safe houses gets slammed open, Jason isn’t concerned. He knows Dick had been off the past few weeks and had been expecting his visit for quite a while now. 

The look in Dick’s eyes is different this time around though. It’s not quite the mix of depression coupled with anger he normally expects — it’s something stronger — righteous fury.

“I need your help,” Dick demands before Jason can question what’s going on.

Jason knits his eyebrows together. 

“What about Bruce?”

There’s a dark look in the man’s eyes for a moment before it passes and that’s the moment Jason realizes that this something more serious than the usual spats he normally has with B. 

“You are the only one I can trust with this.”

He spins around on his heels and is out of the safe house before Jason can blink. Getting a bit impatient and angry about Dick not getting straight to the point and still expecting him to follow — Jason storms out. What he doesn’t expect is the passed out half-dead kid in the passenger seat. A tinge of green enters his vision as he glares at Dick.

“What the hell is going on?”

The story Dick tells as they speed on the highway leaves Jason reeling. If the man’s tone wasn’t carefully monotone as he spoke about Ghosts and an entire town being shifted to a different dimension, Jason would have already declared that Dick finally snapped. He wants to question why he lied to the rest about losing his memories about the year he went missing, but the desperate look he sends him and the way his hands shake on the steering wheel hold him back. It’s only the boy’s quiet snores that have Jason’s volume not climbing above a hiss.

“Are you sure this all happened? That this is real?”

“I was there, Jay,” Dick’s tone leaves no arguments. “I almost watched Danny die, again — fighting Pariah Dark. I would have never forgiven myself if another of my brothers…” He gulps and shakes his head. “I was there this time. I should have made a difference and once again I was helpless”. He slams a fist against the radio, cursing when it turns on, blaring loud music. 

He quickly turns the volume down and both of them wait with bated breath as Danny stirs in his seat, before he goes limp again. Dick lets out a deep sigh.

“How do you think I felt once I realized the situation?” Dick questions. “I was in the middle of nowhere with no recollection of who I was. If the Fentons hadn’t found me-” He shakes his head. “Next I know I’m watching a kid fight fucking Ghosts twice his side and getting thrown around like a ragdoll like it’s a normal Tuesday. That shouldn’t happen Jay, it just shouldn’t.”

Jason stays silent.

“And worst of all, I still knew how to fight,” Dick barrels on. “But no matter how much I tried to help Danny and teach him, it was useless because it wasn’t humans or even metas he was up against. How could my moves counter beings that can fly and go intangible and invisible at will?”

Jason still can’t fathom why Dick hid this from them all — but he knows enough to understand why he needs his help. 

“So what’s the plan?”

Dick shoots him a relieved smile.

“We still have 12 hours of driving ahead of us,” Dick glances at Danny. “I’m reckoning he’s gonna be out cold for at least half of it if not more. I need you to switch with me after half of the drive so I can get a power nap in, then I’ll take over again.”

“Not trusting me with the car?” Jason teases.

“Show me your drivers license and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

They start bickering, and for a moment Jason can convince himself that this is a normal road trip.

Jason’s at the wheel when the boy wakes up. Dick is out cold and despite the man’s protests Jason can drive normally if he wants to. There’s no reason the man has to over exhaust himself.

They had tossed their phones once they crossed the border to Illinois and Dick had withdrawn a couple of thousand bucks. Jason had questioned why they hadn’t done sooner if they wanted to keep Bruce off their trail, but the man told him he’s not the one he is worried about. Considering what Dick told him about the elusive GIW, Jason can harbor a guess on who he is talking about. It’s after that, that Jason wrangled him into another nap — Dick was in no condition to drive any further. 

“Ric?” Danny questions sleepily as he sits up and Jason keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes.

“He’s asleep,” Jason answers and it’s only because he’s used to Damian that he blocks the instinctual kick as the boy realizes he’s not alone. 

“I can see that Dick kept you sharp” Jason huffs out a laugh. “I’m Jason, in case he didn’t mention me.”

Danny blinks at him and shifts so he is sitting cross legged. He knits his eyebrows together, clearly thinking.

“You were the pit stop?” he questions.

“Apparently.” Jason shrugs. “Great work, by the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Dick this pissed.”

The boy frowns, gnawing at his lips as he stares out the window.

“You’ve died too, haven't you?”

Jason suppresses his initial reaction to snap at the boy. Instead he grits his teeth as he stares straight ahead, the road blurring together. 

“And?”

“Ric shouldn’t have let you come.”

He grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are deadly white, green hazing his vision. 

“They’ll cut you open too.”

It takes the wind out of his anger and he lets out a curse. The brakes screech as he stops at the side of the road, nearly catapulting them forward with the force of it. Jason finally turns to look at Danny properly. The boy peels down his t-shirt to reveal a gnarly, ugly red Y-shaped scar as he gulps.

“Ric doesn’t know,” he says as he releases the hem of his shirt, covering the scar once more. “I haven’t told him.”

“Then why me?” Jason’s voice rises without his consent.

“Because you’ll get it,” the boy murmurs. “How it feels to die.”

The boy leans back, turning away from Jason to look at the corn field.

“How it haunts you.”

Jason wants to puke and he lets his forehead fall onto the steering wheel.

“Fuck,” he says emotionally and the boy laughs — broken and hysterical. Jason doesn’t comment on the tears streaming down Danny’s face.

Jason starts up the car again, leading the car back on the road.

“Next time Dick asks for my help, I’ll send him to hell.”

Jason hides a smile when the boy snorts at that. 

Dick comes to himself as they are about to cross the border into Amity Park. Jason and Danny are quietly talking and he wipes away a little bit of drool as he sits up. It’s dark outside and Danny directs Jason as they enter the city. He leans forward as he enters the conversation.

“You’ll think the GIW’s detectors will sense us?”

Danny glances at Jason, before he turns his attention to Dick.

“We should be fine for a few hours at least as long as I don’t have to turn ghost,” he says. “Half of the town is liminal at this point so you and Jason shouldn’t raise any alarms either. They had too many false alarms in the months since you left.”

Jason looks at Dick strangely once they park where they can hide for the night.

“Since when did you have contact with Lazarus Pits?”

“Never,” Dick retorts. “But living above a portal to the Infinite Realms for a year will do the trick.”

Jason's face scrunches up.

“Who the hell builds a portal in their own basement?” 

Both Dick and Danny snort. 

“Gotta love Mom and Dad,” the boy says as Dick nods in agreement. “Only they are insane enough.”

Dick makes a face.

“I could do without reanimated meatloaf for the rest of my life though.”

“Don’t remind me,” Danny shudders.

Jason stares at them in bafflement. 

“You do know how crazy that sounds?”

“Crazier than Ghosts?” Danny questions with a smirk and Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head

“To give it to Mom and Dad they did stop storing samples in the fridge after we lectured them about it,” Dick adds. At Jason's aghast face he just shrugs. “They are passionate about their work.” 

“Insane, absolutely insane,” the man mutters and Dick suppresses a smile.

It had taken him a bit to get used to the Fenton's and their flavor of insanity and chaos. At first he had been worried about them being neglectful at best, but it turns out that they just needed someone to remind them when they got into “hyperfixation” mode. He and Jazz had to stage an intervention and both Maddie and Jack were embarrassed once they realized they took it too far. Dick doesn’t know who is worse — them or Tim when he’s awake for more than three days. 

He was very relieved when his initial hunch didn’t turn out to be true after Danny revealed himself as Phantom to his parents. They did a whole 180 on their research, focusing on learning about the intricacies of the Infinite Realms, their culture and even politics instead — resigning from their high positions in the GIW. That’s when the trouble really started. 

Dick hadn’t lied about getting amnesia after he was shot and it was also true that his memories had only returned — thanks to Frostbite — two months ago. But the only reason he went back to Gotham had been to get Danny help (the longer they waited the worse the situation with the GIW became) — to find out if the Justice League could be trusted. Once he heard what happened with Freakshow and the Reality Gauntlet (and had the memories to properly realize what that meant) he had been horrified. He had given himself a deadline to — if need be, confront the Justice League by the time Danny’s birthday came around and find out the truth. (He had desperately hoped that this was all a misunderstanding, but Bruce’s words still taste bitter on his tongue.)

Dick knows bringing Jason along was a risk — considering Danny’s theory that the Lazarus Pit were corrupted ectoplasm, but they need the manpower to get through the GIW’s defenses. Even if he’s scared shitless about what they’ll do to Jason when they find out just how liminal he is. He knows this is a death mission. But it doesn’t have to be for Jason.

“We need to establish some ground rules,” Dick says reluctantly and Jason narrows his eyes at the wording.

“If we get captured, I want you to save yourself, Jason.” Jason scoffs and Dick raises a hand, silencing his retort before it can come. “I’m the sole reason you got involved in the first place. Me and Danny may be willing to die for them, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself for something that isn’t even your problem to deal with.”

“If you think I’m gonna agree to those, you are more than stupid than I thought Dick,” Jason’s voice is scathing. “It started being my problem when you came to me for help and we drove for 12 straight hours to get there. If you say those people are your family — then they are mine as well.”

His lips perk into a smirk.

“Besides, I want to meet the people that might be even more batshit insane than B and got you to call them Mom and Dad.”

Dick flushes slightly — the Fenton’s had always insisted on him calling them Mom and Dad and he doesn’t know when the titles became genuine. Even with his memories restored, Ric Fenton feels more alive  — more loved — than Richard Grayson ever did. 

Danny just shrugs as he leans back, arms crossed behind his neck and feet rested on top of the glove box. 

“I guess I have not only two sisters but two older brothers now,” he adds cheekily. 

“Brat.” 

Jason playfully shoves Danny and Dick gapes at the fond tone in his voice. 

“How?” he stammers — they should barely know each other. “When?”

Jason tucks Danny into his side, angle a bit awkward, but grinning as he ruffles his hair.

“You missed a lot, sleeping beauty,” Jason jests and Dick groans.

“I was only asleep for 1 hour!” he bemoans. 

“Two,” Danny corrects and Dick glares at him, raising a finger.

“Don’t you two dare gang up on me!”

“This is sweet revenge for when you and Jazz teamed up against me,” Danny grins.

“We were literally trying to help you!” Dick complains, shoving Danny’s face away as the boy cackles, Jason watching on with amusement.

Dick might have to leave Ric Fenton behind for good now that his two worlds have collided, but maybe he can still be Richard “Dick” Grayson-Fenton instead.  

[animelovelover123]

I SWEAR you have done this idea before, but I can't find it, so I'm assuming I dreamed it up or read it on someone else's blog 😭. But what would the DMC boys reactions be to reader squirting for the first time? I can imagine some would be cocky about it/extremely turned on by it, etc. It would be exciting to see your POV on them. Thank you for your amazing work! 🥰

Nope, never done this idea but I like it! Here you go, hope you enjoy making a mess with our demon hunting boys ;)

You Squirting On The DMC Boys

Dante

Dante is a messy lover. He likes clothes ripped off and thrown around the room; lipstick marks on his neck, abs, chest, hell even smudged over his lips; hair tousled crazily; making out so rough and sloppy that your lips are left glistening and connected by a string of saliva; and he prefers cumming ON you rather than in you.

The first time he makes you orgasm he is going down on you, because, of course, he wants to start this stage of your relationship by servicing you.

You get him in the face, much of the liquid going right into his mouth. There is a pause of shock then he suddenly sits up, now 2 kinds of your liquids dripping down from his grinning lips.

“Holly hell baby, do that again.” He flattens his hand and starts aggressively rubbing your clit, trying to force you into a back-to-back orgasm. He’ll even shove a couple fingers in you if he thinks it will help. “Come on, you can do it, baby girl, give me another, please, I need it.”

He already loved you, but finding out you squirt, he is going to get obsessed.

He loves it. The wet patches you leave on the bedsheets, his clothes, or whatever surface you two are fucking on is hot as hell and often has him getting excited for a round 2.

And even when you two are finished, he likes cuddling up against you and dragging his finger through the mess you made, drawing shapes and letters on you. Sometimes it was just to relax, other times it was to try to get you in the mood for yet another round, and occasionally…

“I…” Dante said as he drew the letter I on your tummy with the remnants of your squirt. “heart… U.”

Dante is a mess and we love him despite (or maybe for) it. I did not initially plan for it to get corny at the end there but I think that is also another reason many of us love him.

Reboot Dante

This man has had so much casual sex with so many people that he is unfazed when you squirt on him, he doesn’t act surprised at all.

He will tease you, call you “dirty” or maybe “slut” affectionately.

“I got you squirting already? Just wait till I have you screaming.”

He has no plan to stop, capturing your lips before you can respond properly, biting them a bit, and keeps pounding into you.

If he sees that you are legitimately embarrassed by it though, he’ll reassure you.

“Don’t worry babe,” Dante says as he wipes his hands off on the sheets below you. “I’ve had a lot worse things come out of people.”

His chill reaction continues all future times you have sex, though he does tease you both inside and outside of the bedroom. The amount of drooling and waterfall jokes you have to cover up and reprimand him for is insurmountable.

“Oof, you really gotta elbow me, babe?” He chuckles. “I guess I deserve it though. As payback, you wanna waterboard me with that cute little pussy of yours later?”

Perverted Reboot Dante has probably been squirted on many times, this man knows his way around watersports. But that also means I don’t have much to write about.

Vergil

When you squirt for the first time around him, Vergil devil triggers. He turns back quickly out of concern that the change in his body would frighten you or cause you pain for your first time together, but the strain of trying to keep his demon side from coming out is so heavy that he can’t finish.

That liquid was seeped in your scent, your pheromones. And you just sprayed it all over him and the bed like perfume.

He has to make an excuse, clean up quickly, and rush out of the room lest he ravages you.

When you are more accustomed to sex with him and he has more self-control he will let loose all of his animalistic lust but not yet, he did not want to hurt you or scare you away.

He will not explain this unless you press him and/or seem really hurt that he ran off after your first time together.

He does much training, both with and without you, and does get himself under control, though he and his sexual preferences are forever changed.

Now he’ll catch your squirt with some piece of his discarded clothing, claiming it is just to stop you from making too big of a mess. And besides, he cleans his clothes after every time you two have sex.

That is all true, but what he doesn’t say is that even after cleaning his clothes, when he wears them his demon senses can still pick up on the scent, on YOUR scent.

I was this fricken’ close to making him a pantie sniffer, I swear to god!

Reboot Vergil

Even though he likes to portray a prime, proper, clean, in-control aura always, making a mess of you turned him on like nothing else.

Before he found out that you squirted, he would get his fix by suddenly pulling you somewhere private, pushing you up against a wall, and aggressively start kissing and groping you. And just as you are beginning to process what was happening and get into the mood, he would suddenly pull away and remind you that you have things to do. He would then just watch you reeling, and if he was feeling extra cruel, he would drag you back out into the public space he had stolen you from and watch as you try to come to your senses and act natural.

Now he had something better though. Now he would wait until you were done getting all dolled up and ready for going out or to a house party then strike.

While assuring you that you had plenty of time, Vergil would shove his gloved hand down your panties and start playing with you, cranking up the intensity quickly to get you to that powerful release as soon as possible.

He did not need to be touched as he got plenty of satisfaction from seeing you standing there with shaky legs like a fawn trying to keep your balance with liquid dripping from your core and sliding down your legs. He’ll even avoid helping to support your weight to watch you struggle. He will help eventually though so he can have you wrap your arm around his and he can use that as a shackle.

“Alright dear, it is time for us to welcome our guests/head out. What’s that? Oh, unfortunately, we simply do not have any time to waste. I’m sure no one will notice, now let go.”

Reboot Vergil is a smart, tricky lover and a big ol’ bully.

Nero

Despite trying to act cool, confident, and mature, Nero is a virgin. And with where he grew up and the religiousness of his adoptive family, he was not given a sex education past “don’t do it before marriage” and what little he could learn for himself, which was practically nothing. So the first time you squirt on him he freezes mid-thrust in shock and confusion.

“Did you just piss on me?”

When you tell him what it is or he researches it, he feels stupid but at least knows how to approach things from now on.

He takes the time to lay out towels and clean you up after. That is unless you two get too hot and heavy outside of your home and end up fucking in the van or something. Even then though, Nero makes sure to clean up for your comfort and everyone else’s.

Usually he sees it as just a natural process of making love to you, though he does amusingly point out when you “make a good shot” and “launched it far”.

With his relationship with Kyrie, I see Nero as being quite the gentleman to his lover and her natural body functions, though dense at first. He is a good boy though.

V

V finds sex artistic in a way, and when he is in the midst of pleasure he finds it even more so.

When you first squirt on his hand, as he prefers to finger you before taking you completely, he is pleasantly surprised.

He wants to spread it around, utterly cover your crotch, inner thighs, and lower stomach with it. It makes you shine, glisten, just like when he kisses you enough to leave your lips a bit swollen and shimmering with saliva.

After fingering you and you are recovering, preparing for the true event, V grinds his body against yours in a kind of Nuru massage. Sliding his cock, now covered in your juices, along your drenched folds or, if your core is too sensitive right now, against your legs and stomach or between your closed thighs had him trembling and moaning just as hard as if your hand was wrapped around his member

And once he has pulled out of you and his seed is dripping out of you, the white mixes with the clear, creating a pearlescent liquid that V wants to paint with.

Not exactly what I intended but the vibe is there.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Thinking about…

Alastor and Bill Cipher after the same s/o (headcannons)

Hazbin Masterlist // Disney Masterlist // Navigation

Warnings: Obsessive behavior! Alastor being sadistic, Bill being a bit weird because duh, wrote this with Human form Bill Cipher in mind, mentions of death

A/N: I really like this dynamic, even though it’s kind of crazy and a lose lose situation for the reader, but it’s still interesting to write about. I hope you all enjoy!!

Alastor

• Alastor isn’t just charming; he’s obsessed with making you see him as the ultimate catch. He meticulously plans every interaction, ensuring that you are always impressed and feel valued. Every compliment and gesture is calculated to win your heart.

“Why there’s that smile I love to see my dear! Ever the beauty!”

Alastor can’t stand the thought of you being attracted to anyone else, especially Bill. He tries to mask his jealousy with his usual grace and horribly timed jokes, but it’s evident in the subtle digs he takes at Bill whenever you mention him.

When Alastor is alone with you he’s not above grand, romantic gestures. Picture him serenading you with an old-fashioned love song or setting up a beautiful, intimate dinner where he pours out his feelings and tries to convince you that he’s the best choice for a partner and way better than bill in all aspects of the word.

Alastor’s affection for you is deeply strategic. He genuinely cares, but he’s also careful in how he shows it. He’ll often try to subtly make you see how a relationship with him would be beneficial, not just for personal pleasure but for gaining power and influence. He’s a very strong man and his image is important, what’s not to want about him?

“Don’t you love this view dear? We could be here all the time, if you wished.”

Alastor envisions a future where you are by his side, helping him dominate Hell. His feelings are not just about the present but about creating a powerful, enduring relationship. He dreams of ruling Hell together, and he’s willing to go to great lengths to make that vision a reality.

But not all things with Alastor are good, you know how much he HATESSSS modern technology and well, it’s how the world runs now. this is something Bill definitely used against him

“Don’t get intimated by a big screen deer man!”

Though he hates how Bills joke makes you laugh, his smile tightens nonetheless

Alastor will often put doubts into your mind about Bill. He is partially right, so it does make you wonder…

“What if he were to suddenly get tired of you? My dear, he’s traveled galaxies and destroyed universes. You wouldn’t want to be subject to that would you?”

or maybe something like,

“That little shape is no better than a toddler. He can’t even take proper care of his toys, breaking them when he gets bored. How pitiful.”

Bill Cipher

Bill is intensely infatuated with you. His feelings might come across as chaotic and erratic, per usual, but underneath, he’s deeply drawn to your spirit and individuality. He finds your uniqueness thrilling and wants to be the one to make your life as unpredictable and exciting as possible.

“ Wanna see this guy dance with his eyes hanging out of his sockets? Gotta tell ya’ you’ll never see anything like it ever!”

Bill’s way of showing affection is through wild and flirtatious chaos. He might sweep you into a whirlwind of bizarre, fantastical experiences, always with an underlying flirtation that makes it clear he’s very interested in you.

Bill knows how to push Alastor’s buttons. He often uses his chaotic antics to draw your attention away from Alastor, playfully teasing him and making a show of his own appeal. For Bill, it’s not just about romance; it’s about proving he’s the more exciting option, you’ll never be bored of him!

Despite his chaotic nature, Bill genuinely wants a deep connection with you, even if he does have a weird way of being about it. He’s drawn to your complexity and wants to show you that his brand of chaos can be both thrilling and deeply meaningful. He might surprise you with moments of surprising sincerity.

Bill is not afraid to take big risks to win you over. He’s willing to gamble with the very fabric of reality just to create memorable moments. His love is unpredictable and intense, and he hopes you will find that thrilling rather than overwhelming.

Bill is the type of guy to take you to a different reality for a date, wanna go watch marshans fight? no problem! upset about something? let’s go to this dimension where you can blow anything up!

He’s definitely got jokes though, and he’s good at them too

“Hey furry, why don’t you cut that loose part of your hair? OH wait, it’s your EARS!”

Bill is no fool though, he sees EVERYTHING, so it’s really difficult to hide things from him, which means being with him also means you losing your privacy.

“He’s a sociopath dove, you can’t really believe that radio freak actually likes you right?”

He isn’t wrong, Alastor has proven multiple times he keeps people around because he needs them for something, and Bill loves this

“What if you don’t satisfy him? What if he decides you’re not worth being with?”

or maybe he’ll say

“ You never know dove, what if he’s just after your soul? Maybe he likes the fact you put up a good fight, eh?”

Both demons have their crazies to them. Picking Alastor means Bill might destroy your dimension and maybe rearrange his molecules. But picking Bill means watching Alastor rip hell to shreds at your expense, hurting anyone and everyone to get you, maybe even threatening whoever you love.

Dating Alastor means you can kind of live a normal-ish life

Dating Bill means you keep your dimension

[vhyunjinverse]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

[pastafossa]

When Heather said Muse and Daredevil are the same, just “underdeveloped boys hiding behind masks, trying to make it look more sophisticated”, do you think she might have a point? (Personally, I don’t — I think she’s speaking from a place of ignorance + trying to process her recent trauma + feeling some understandable anger. Also I think this is good indicator — and purposeful by the writers — that Heather doesn’t actually know Matt that well and their relationship won’t last much longer)

Eager to get your perspective — imagine me with my face in my hands, kicking my feet and giggling

NO BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT THIS, CAUSE I CLOCKED THIS TOO.

I think there's multiple things being brought together, a lot of which you caught here.

Going to put this under a see more cause it's a slightly longer dissection of this part of the episode.

DDBA thoughts beneath the cut.

"Underdeveloped boys hiding behind masks, trying to make it look more sophisticated."

If we compare this to the last time she brought this up, there's been a clear shift in perspective. Before, she was curious about the 'why' with vigilantes and masks - does the mask allow vigilantes/antiheroes to be their true selves, or is the mask about hiding those true selves, creating some sense of separation? She wanted to talk to Daredevil, even Frank Castle about it. Now, she seems (to me at least) to be working through her own trauma and anger, yeah - anger at Muse, yes, but at Daredevil too, because to her, at least right now, she's latched onto, 'Muse was a horrible person who wore a mask to hide his identity, which means horrible people wear masks. Therefore the people wearing the masks are the problem because if they were doing what's right, they wouldn't need to hide.'

It doesn't matter to her brain right now that Daredevil saved her life. He's part of the problem - especially since she just saw Daredevil at his most violent. I think with time she'll be able to process that and recognize it eventually, in the way that someone bit badly by a dog will often come to recognize that not all dogs are bad. But they're going to be afraid of dogs for a while, or maybe even forever. Especially if their sole experience with a dog is getting bit.

But if we set all that aside and just take the statement at its base value: she's both right and not, I think. We know how people are. We know how Muse is, calling his slaughter an 'art' and not just, you know, serial killing. There would absolutely, in this universe, be insecure, chest-thumping, underdeveloped dudes who'd slap on a mask so they can run out and beat people up and see themselves as heroes. But in reality they just like being violent, and the mask DOES help hide them from consequences.

But she's also wrong by applying it overall/to the masked vigilantes in general. Not just because of Matt/Daredevil, but because of people like Hector earlier in the season. With Hector, that was one of the whole plot points: he was (RIP) doing it because it's the right thing to do, and because he wanted to help. Matt, arguably, does what he does for the same reason: because it's the right thing to do. Hell, Frank isn't even hiding behind a mask for all that she included him on her list earlier. He's not calling it sophisticated, or hero work. He's doing it because he believes this is the only way to solve the issue.

They aren't playing at being sophisticated. What they are doing is trying to save lives in an inherently broken, corrupt, inherently unjust system: a system that killed Hector despite him being found innocent, a system that would rather spend more money jailing a hungry guy than feeding him, a system that allowed Muse to kill 60+ people before anyone noticed, a system that elected Fisk despite his loooong list of crimes. It's a system that will literally kill you if you help the very person the system is trying to crush, like Hector did. The mask is an added layer of protection so that they can keep doing what they can to help. It's not about 'allowing' them to be violent in the way the statement implies.

And the strongest evidence of that? If all crime stopped, they would give it up.

Frank would go into retirement.

Matt would hang up the suit.

And Hector would have been at peace.

That's something about the street level heroes. They're not up there. They're down here in the dirt with us. They're the ones who hear a woman get grabbed in an alley. They're the ones walking by the corner store when they hear someone pull a gun inside and demand money. They're witnessing all of this firsthand. And I don't think you can call them all underdeveloped boys playing at being heroes without acknowledging the reality that that the person being robbed in the alley needs a hero, because the system sure as hell isn't all that interested in doing anything about it.

And I think that's sort of where they're going this season. What they're leading us to. Because that's the reality that Matt's been struggling with - the system is broken. So what do you do when you have the ability to stop some of that suffering? Do you turn away and hope someone fixes it? Or do you fight?

We know what Matt's answer is, what Hector's was. And I'm not convinced it's the wrong one.

And I think you keyed in on how this relates back to their relationship: Heather doesn't know Matt all that well, not really. None of them do, really. Heather loves the image of Matt that he's shown to her, of course, but it's a false one, an incomplete one. That's not her fault, since Matt has been lying and frantically trying to hide that side of himself to her, and he also clearly hasn't been exploring his stance on various ethics with her like the regular debates he had with Foggy and Karen in the past. I do think the relationship's destined to blow up, though whether that might get mended in S2 is anyone's guess, but I just am noooot getting the feeling that relationship's going to be able to survive the fallout once she realizes just how much Matt has hidden from her.

[scary-grace]

Guitarist!Tomura actually has me in a chokehold so a gc would be nice I just need to work up the courage LMAO

Guitarist!Tomura also has me in a chokehold, which is why it took me so long to write a follow-up! I really love him in this AU so there may be more to come.

“Okay, now that we’re done laughing at Shigaraki, first things first —”

“Laughing at Tomura-kun is the first thing,” Toga says. Dabi glares at her. “Don’t make that face! If I was singing love duets through the wall with my neighbor, you guys would never let me live it down.”

“Nobody gets to live that down. That is not cool band guy behavior,” Twice announces from behind the drum set. Then, like always, he changes his tune. “Don’t worry, Shigaraki! I think it’s sweet!”

“I think we should never talk about it again,” Tomura mutters. He turns to Dabi. “You were saying something, right?”

“Yeah,” Dabi says. “First things first. Does anybody have any new songs?”

The band always needs new songs, and everyone’s supposed to bring one to practice. In theory they should always have something cooking. In reality, they get a new song maybe every six practices, and only some of those are good. They’d be better if anybody liked taking feedback on their lyrics. But they don’t.

“I have one,” Spinner says, “but —”

“Is it about being a true artist and not whoring yourself out to the Spotify algorithm?” Dabi doesn’t wait for an answer. “No.”

“We could use it if we metaphor it a bit,” Spinner protests. He passes a piece of paper to Tomura. “Look.”

Tomura scans the lyrics. He likes some of Spinner’s phrasing, and the song structure works, but he can see a few too many lines about standing apart from the machine. And Spinner’s not the only one who writes like that. “Why don’t we just do a whole LP around that? Give it some characters and a plotline and then it’s not just an album. It’s a story arc.”

“You think we can pull that off?” Toga looks up, interested. “What about a love story?”

“No.”

“Hey, that could work!” Twice taps the kick drum for emphasis. “Like, think about it! The protagonists are falling in love amidst the machines and then they have to defeat them if they want to be together!”

“There’s no way we can pull that off,” Tomura says. Twice ignores him, and he looks to Dabi for help. “If we’re going to do a concept album, let’s do an album about a concept we actually understand.”

“Nobody’s going to listen to us if we’re just complaining about the system,” Dabi says. “We need a hook. The love story’s a hook.”

“Then one of us had better figure out how to write love songs,” Spinner says. “Because we all kind of suck at it.”

Dabi looks like he’s thinking about it, and Tomura wonders, like he does every so often, why he decided to let Dabi project-manage the band he started. “Okay,” Dabi says finally. “We’re calling practice for today. No more practice until everybody has at least one song to share.”

“Oh, come on —”

“How much of a song do we need to have?” Toga interrupts Tomura.

“At least two verses and a chorus. Instrumentation optional,” Dabi decides. There goes Tomura’s plan to weasel out of this by coming up with a melody and chord progression and calling it good. “Text the group chat when you’ve got something.”

Everybody else starts packing up their instruments, like this is settled or something. Tomura came up with the stupid concept album idea. He’s the one who has to put the brakes on. “We can’t just not practice,” he says. “We have shows booked next month.”

“So you’d better get writing, then.”

“Yeah. More writing, less singing to your neighbor through the wall,” Spinner says. Tomura glares at him. “Maybe you can write a song about that.”

Tomura will write a song about that when hell freezes over. But he needs to write something, or the band’s not going to practice at all before their first gigs of the school year. A concept album about humans falling in love while standing up to the machine or the man or whatever. This is going to be a nightmare.

When Tomura gets home, his neighbors are just as noisy as ever, except for you. You’re quiet. Are you even home? Tomura tries to write, but it’s hard to focus when he’s so busy listening. He’s still not sure if you heard him singing along with you, but what if you did, and you got so embarrassed that you’re never going to sing again? If someone had told Tomura this morning that he’d be upset that one of his neighbors wasn’t making noise, he’d have told them they were out of their mind.

And then he hears it, just past midnight — quiet humming from the other side of the wall, a tune that’s vaguely familiar. This time, when the words pick up, Tomura doesn’t sing along. He just listens as you mumble your way through the first verse of The Last Shadow Puppets’ Miracle Aligner. “Often the humble kind, but he can’t deny he was born to blow your mind — or something along those lines —”

It’s not Tomura’s favorite song from that band, but given that you like the band enough to get their songs stuck in your head, your taste in music is at least decent. Tomura won’t be able to decide if it’s actually good until he hears you sing a few more songs. And speaking of a few more songs — Tomura picks up his pen again and scrawls out a single lyric across the top of the page. Screw a concept album, for now at least. He just has to start somewhere.

One lyric turns into another, turns into a verse and the start of a chorus. Tomura writes until two am, your voice brushing softly against his ear.

<- part 1

[luna-jaden-shadow]

OUAW With Insomniac!Reader

Request - can i request a Once Upon A Witchlight gang x insomniac reader?? ur OUAW cuddling x reader was so cute good heavens 🥺

. . .

. . .

Kremy Lecroux

- Kremy definitely went to bed before you cause he needs his “beauty sleep” and is beyond confused when he wakes up randomly to you not in bed like ??? Hello ???

- He’ll get up and go find you, trying his best not to startle you

- Will sit with you either in silence or chatting between the two of you

- Will 100% pull you into his arms so he can rest his head on top of yours

“Ya know, Gid used to not be able to sleep when we met.” Kremy gently traces his hands up and down your arms. There’s a soft rumble that comes from Kremy as he settles against your back. 

It wasn’t often that you got the softer side of Kremy even his voice was quiet. “Did you use your magic to put him to sleep?” You muse but when he doesn’t answer you laugh, getting a chuckle from him.

“Sometimes, yes. But only when he asked.” He left it at that, an open invitation for whenever you really needed to sleep but couldn’t, he’d have no problem asking you if you would kindly go to sleep.

Gideon Coal

- Will offer to knock you out as a joke and if you agree he doesn’t have the heart to do it and will just fake hit your head before saying how strong you are (will imply it’s cause he’s been giving you fighting lessons on the side)

- Having his fair share of insomnia, Gideon understands how hard it can be and is more than capable of staying up with you if you’ll have him

- Will tell you stories about him and Kremy’s travels to pass the time

“And then they had the nerve to call me a bitch, me!” He throws his arms up and then wraps them around you, huffing at the memory. Your hand runs up his arm, gaining his full attention. 

“What happened next?” You lean against him, playing with his hand in your lap. 

You can almost imagine the smirk on his face as he shifts. “Well I beat the living hell outta him obviously.” He laughs, “Guy was on the ground after the first punch.” 

Morning Frost

- Frost offers to make tea

- Will stay up as long as needed so you’re not lonely

-  You two will get into deep conversation while drinking your drinks, it becomes a regular thing over your time traveling together

“You should just open a tea shop.” You muse, sipping the drink. “I mean after we free ourselves of our mense amount of debt. Take it easy, just sell tea someplace in the mountains.”

“You’ve thought this out.” Frost notes.

“Got a lot of time to think when I’m not sleeping.”  You smile from beside him, Frost’s tail lays across your lap, allowing you to run a hand through every once in a while. He’s secretly hoping it’ll be enough to lure you to sleep so he can also sleep but he’s fine staying up for a little while longer if it’s with you.

Gricko Grimgrin

- Will go dad mode on you don’t think he won’t

- When he says it’s bedtime it’s bedtime even Hootsie knows that

- But when you can’t fall asleep and accidentally wake him up by turning for the 100th time, Gricko will roll on top of you

“What are you planning to accomplish here?” You can’t help but laugh at the Goblin now lying to you. Gricko yawns, snuggling closer to you as a hand raises to place a finger over your lips. 

“It’s bedtime [ your name] so I’m weighing down your thoughts with my body so you sleep.” While his logic didn’t totally make sense who were you to argue with him? Seeing you both awake, Hootsie will totally move in closer, now taking Gricko’s spot so that you’re officially stuck with him. 

“I can’t really argue can I?” Gricko shakes his head, making a noise as he begins to fall back asleep. He’s a little guy he needs his rest and honestly a weighted Goblin is probably a nice help with sleeping. 

Torbek

- 100% Will stay up with you as long as needed he’d rather talk with you than sleep and have nightmares sooo

- He’d totally make up games to wear you down though cause he does care about you 

- Will try to convince you that sleep is important even though you might not be able to help that you can’t sleep

“Torbek believes that we should sleep now, it’ll be tomorrow quicker.” You could laugh at his obvious statement had it not been the middle of the night and everyone else is sleeping away. There’s shifting and suddenly he’s pulling you to him and you’re wrapped up in his arms in bed.

“Believe me, I would love to sleep.” You mumble against him, feeling his hands trace shapes and soothe over your back. You can see the soft glow that comes from the Witchlight fill the room.

“Torbek will not leave, you can sleep.” His hold on you tightens as he holds you against him. You eventually do fall asleep and, true to his word, Torbek was in the same spot when you woke up, he had barely moved.

[winnieiscalmeth]

Rogue SFW Alphabet

Notes: recently watched the new X-Men 97' and fell in love with the lovely women in the show so here goes an sfw Alphabet about our hot southern woman, Rogue<3 (spoilers for 97')

Proof Read?: Nope

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Would become very affectionate if you had powers that could cancel out hers. She can finally hold someone without them crumbling and falling due to her hands.

B = Breathe (Do they feel relaxed around you? How does their demeanor shift when around you?)

Very calm. She'll be all teasing to her teammates but whenever you come around.  sweeter than suga'

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Same with Affectionate, she'll never let you go. Prefers being little spoon, but if you wanted to be little spoon she'll switch for one night.

D = Domestic (Will they ever leave the team? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She couldn't if she wanted to. As long as she's an X-Men she wouldn't want to leave. But she is good at cooking. As long as she's paying attention that is. Loves bringing you food she made.

E = Emotion (How do they hide their emotions? Are they good at it?)

Pretty horrible at hiding her emotions. If something upset her you can see the scowl on her face. On the contrary, you can see the excitement flowing through her whenever she gets to help you with something.

F = Fights (how well do they handle arguments?)

She would try to make it up shortly after you both calm down. Unless you were in the wrong then you'd have to apologize.

G = Grieve (if their partner were to die, how do they handle it?)

Well, we saw what she did in 97' after Gambit right? Right. It would be like watching her missing puzzle piece being ripped out of her hands.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What do they feel like?)

Loves them. Sometimes gets too excited and accidentally squeezes you too hard.

I = Interlink (How quickly do they realize that you are mad, sad, or uncomfortable? If you ever feel that way do they also feel it? )

Pretty quick to sense it. If you were visibly uncomfortable she would immediately ask about it and try to make you feel better. But the second you are mad at something she gets mad too.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What would they do when they get jealous?)

On a scale from 1-10, I'd say a solid 7.She trusts you enough but would still drag you away from the person flirting with you.

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Where is their favorite spot to kiss you)

Hell yeah. She loves to wear lipstick and cover your face in markings. Her favorite spots are your lips and neck.

L = Love (who said "I love you" first? How much do they remind you that they love you?)

She did. She would always hint to you that she loved you before you got together, but since she was notorious for flirting you thought she was just joking.

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married?)

Desperately. Already has a few places she wants to get married at.

N = Night time (Are they a night owl? How long does it take them to sleep?)

Can't exactly sleep through a night, being an X-Men and all. But that doesn't mean she doesn't take breaks to be with her pretty s/o.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

It would be subtle hints, then just flat-out telling you. It takes a while, maybe a few months into the relationship.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Quick. If someone were tapping a lot she'd ask them to stop in an obviously annoyed tone. Probably isn't allowed to be in an interrogation room.

Q = Quality time (what do they like to do with you?)

Loves to just hang out with you. Whether it's going out on a date with you or just watching a movie.

R = Reason (how did they get together?)

With her flirtatious behavior, you couldn't help but fall in love. You were also the first person she could touch without gloves on.

S = Security (Do you feel safe around them? Vice versa?)

Being with one of the strongest X-Men is pretty reassuring. You always try to protect her if she got hurt on the battlefield so she would say the same thing for you too.

T = Trust (How trusting are they with secrets? Do they trust you?)

Good at keeping them, unless you needed advice on a secret, then she'll ask someone for it but cover it up as a hypothetical question.

U= Understanding (how well do they know you?)

Good at urging you to tell her stuff. She knows a good portion about who you are and your backstory.

V= Value (how important are you to them?)

Very important. If you were in trouble, she would drop everything and come running for you.

W = Woo (are they good at flirting?)

Scarily good. It gave you mixed signals before you got together.

X = X-Men (Would they let you meet the other X-Men? Would they be accepting of you joining?)

She wouldn't mind having her s/o on the team. But would be more protective since now you could be a target for people who want mutants gone.

Y = Yearn (how do they cope when away from their partner?)

She would fidget with her gloves while thinking about you. She would always think 'just one more day till' I can see my sweetheart'

Z = Zzz (What is it like sleeping with them?)

She has to always feel you next to her. Her arm would be wrapped around you or her leg intertwined with yours. Or she just sleeps on top of you entirely. If you got up in the middle of the night to get a snack it would wake her up even if you could slowly levitate out of bed, she would sense your body warmth is gone and pop up behind you to give you a scare.

[spidercatweb]

Better Together ★ Penelope Garcia x reader

Warnings: gn!forensics!reader, kissing, Garcia calls r "baby" and "my love", mention of heroin overdose, no explicit details (victim on a case), fluff!! r is a little bit sad at one point, Sergio being a cutie pie, Garcia and r live together <3

Description: r makes an excuse to go see Penelope during work. They are both being terribly cute, they help each other deal with a tough case. r has to go home without Penelope :( but then wakes up when she comes home :)

Word Count: 1,032

Request: "finding a writer for penelope is such a rarity that I had to hop over to make a request. granted I don't have many specifics for this but here goes: gn!reader who also works at the BAU, maybe does forensics so they often stay back with pen, and it's lowkey just fluffy as hell with a lil angst surrounding a hard case and how reader and pen support each other while the teams out."

A/n: I hope this is what you asked for!! I enjoyed writing it!! <3 Also, I could not resist writing sleepy reader... ough.

“Pen?” You carefully open the door to her office, a pile of papers in one hand, two precariously stacked to-go coffee cups in the other. “I’ve got tox screen results. And coffee!” You shut the door behind you with a light nudge from your foot.

“Oh, you are my savior.” She reaches out for the cup on top, clearly hers, identifiable by the clear cup of caramel-colored sweetness. “Whipped cream!? I love you.” She takes a sip, “mmm…” She sighs, “Thank you, my love.”

“You are very welcome, Pen.” You giggle, taking a sip from your own drink, much less sweet than hers, and take a seat in the extra chair next to her, placing the papers in front of you.

“I don’t know why you insist on printing those out and bringing them here yourself. Sending the digital versions to me would be much faster, y’know.” She slides the papers towards herself, scanning over the results. 

“Well if I did that, I wouldn’t get to see you as much.” You exaggerate a frown, rolling your chair closer to hers, the armrests bump together slightly. You lean over to rest your head on her shoulder while she reads the pages.

“Aw, well I guess I can excuse that.” She plants a light kiss on the top of your head, then goes right back to reading. “Yikes. Heroin overdose, point three percent blood alcohol.”

“The victim had no priors, no reported drug issues, right? So this was most likely our Unsub?”

“Mhm, he had a wife and two daughters.” She sighs, “Rossi told me that the wife said he rarely ever went out for drinks. He was always at home with his kids when he was off of work.” 

You echo her sigh, “How can people just ruin families like that?” Frustration bubbles in your chest. “I’m really glad I work in the lab. I hate hearing about things like this. Just makes me sad.”

“I know, baby. But that’s why we have our lovely team of profilers. Lovely, beautiful, strong profilers.” Garcia types rapidly on her computer, informing the rest of the team about the tox screen. You giggle at her comment.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Taking it out, you see the screen lighting up with a call from Hotch.

You sit up straight, as if Hotch can see you through the phone, answering. “Y/L/N, what can I do for you, Hotch?”

“We’ve got another body. We put a rush on the autopsy. The details should be coming to you soon, be on the lookout.” 

“What? Already? Wasn’t there just another victim yesterday?” This was unusual, most Unsubs had longer cooling off periods. 

“Yes, there was. If you could process the results as fast as possible that would be great.” He’s quick and to the point.

“Alright, will do. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Thank you.” He hangs up the phone. Not much of a goodbye, but it was understandable.

You let out another long sigh, “I need to go, they found another victim.” You get up from your chair, grabbing your coffee cup from Penelope’s desk.

“They’ll catch him soon. Promise.” Penelope lightly brushes your arm with her hand, “Go be the super-genius scientist that you are, my love. You’re a great help to this team.”

You give her a light smile, “Thank you.”

Before you leave, you lean over Penelope’s shoulder, your face just centimetres away from hers. She turns to meet your lips with hers in a gentle kiss. For a moment, all of your anxieties melt away. Just what you needed on a day like this. With a small hum, you pull away. 

“Love you, Pen. Hopefully I’ll see you tonight?” You know this is unlikely, long hours are guaranteed with cases like this.

“Not sure.” She frowns, “Love you too.” She smiles sweetly, waving goodbye as you leave.

*** 

Later that night, you enter your shared apartment. It’s quiet without her. Too quiet. You miss her already. You hope the team is able to wrap up the case soon. 

You find Sergio curled up on the end of your bed, “Hi bud!” you whisper, petting him gently. He chirps as he startles out of his sleep and immediately starts purring. 

After you’ve showered and changed into your pajamas, you attempt to go to sleep. Emphasis on attempt. You toss and turn for about an hour, becoming more restless by the minute. Sleeping next to your girlfriend every night was wonderful, until the nights she wasn’t there. It’s too cold, too quiet, too dark. Sergio wasn’t being helpful either. You could hear him in the living room, running in circles around the couch.

Groggy, you sit up in bed, what is wrong with this cat? “Sergiooo!” You call, “Serge! C’mere!”. Soon after, he comes barreling into the bedroom, almost running into the wall on his way in. You snicker at this. You pat a spot next to you on the bed, “Come here!”. Sergio stares up at you in confusion. “Come on!” You ruffle the covers a little, prompting him to jump up next to you.

You lay back down, getting cozy under the covers. Sergio nuzzles his face into your shoulder then curls up right on your chest. The perfect weighted blanket. His continuous purring and calming warmth lull you to sleep.

***

Hours later, you wake up with a swift inhale, startled by the sudden shift in weight on the mattress. You blink your eyes open and when they focus, your heart warms. “Mm… You’re home.” You mumble with a sleepy smile, eyes half closed. You roll over to face your girlfriend, noticing that Sergio had abandoned you sometime when you were asleep.

Penelope whispers apologetically, “No, no, go back to sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“S’okay.” You shift closer to her, breathing in the scent of her sugary lotion. She happily welcomes you into her arms, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as you sleepily attempt to do the same.

She huffs out a soft laugh, “Love you, g’nite.”

“G’nite, love you too. So much.”

You both soon fall into a calm sleep, peaceful smiles on both of your faces.

Thank you for reading!!

Any feedback is very much appreciated <3

My requests are open!!

[dg-outlaw]

Batman #148 Thoughts... or Why Jason Todd is Awesome and Batman Doesn't Deserve Him.

So... I know a lot of the discussion about this issue has been about what happens to Jason, and IYKYK. What I want to discuss are parts of the rest of the issue and why I think Jason is one of the best characters (and more than how many perceive him). *spoilers ahead*

I know many outsiders and even those in fandom look at Jason Todd or the Red Hood and think of him as the hot, angsty edge lord who isn't afraid to break Batman's one rule. He's cool and badass so you want to be like him or he's the romantic fantasy bad boy with a soft side. These things are fine, but this is often where people stop with Jason or if they dislike him the above descriptions are why.

Some people want him to be an antagonist again because villains are cool and this is where we get things like 'The Boys' because it's edgy, subversive, or some intelligent deconstruction of superheroes. Colorful and honorable superheroes like Superman or Spider-Man are boring, just a fantasy, or for kids who don't understand the real world. Again, fine if that's your take, but I don't believe that one "graduates" from one to the other.

Beyond the Fast and Furious style cool factor of fast cars, guns, and explosions that often get associated with Jason, there's more to him than that and it's why he's still one of my favorites. Hell, this is the same character that writers thought would be a priest in the Flashpoint universe, a universe that had gone to hell in a handbasket but in all that chaos and darkness he became a PRIEST.

(The World of Flashpoint: Issue #2)

Say what you will about organized religion, Christianity, or the Catholic church (because there are definitely issues there), but I think two of Jason's core traits that I admire are his faith and hope. Traits that often get Jason hurt by the people closest to him, but that often see him through the darkest times.

The cheapness of using Jason's "death" aside, these traits are seen again in Batman #148. Not only is Jason willing to put his faith in Bruce again (after everything "not" Bruce did to him in Gotham War), but he's the first down into the cave.

This isn't blind faith, but a willingness to try. A hope that maybe this time he won't be hurt, even if time and time again history has proven otherwise. Note: This can be a slippery and dangerous slope and not one without consequences as many people fall into the trap of going back into or staying in toxic relationships that only bring them pain. (And I never said his greatest strengths can't also be his greatest weaknesses).

We also see some emotional maturity and growth in this issue and I love that for Jason. Has he been going to therapy? Maybe, but my money is that he's probably been reading lots of self-help books or something.

Does Bruce deserve this level of forgiveness and compassion from Jason? No, but Jason gives it to him anyway. I also feel like this is a soft challenge from Jason. "I'm not here to save you from yourself or to ask you to save me. We do this together or not at all."

And if you're thinking, "Oh no, Jason has gone soft. Not my Jason Todd!" He's still a cheeky bastard in battle, even when he's on the ropes.

Now, for Jason's "death", one could say that it was a cheap ploy by the writer or DC to get people talking or to have a random "Jason dies" scene (though he's revived in the same issue so I feel the emotional stakes/hype are less compared to leaving it open-ended until the next issue).

One could also look at it in a cynical light given it's Jason that Bruce brings down into the cave during the flashback reveal with the secret Lazarus Kool-Aid. Did Bruce plan that knowing Jason would volunteer in some sort of reverse psychology manipulation? Was it just a random plot explanation to justify having the "Jason dies" scene? Who knows? Though I think Dick or Tim would've volunteered as well. But my focus is on the conversation.

This is another example of Jason's hope and faith, and his faith in Bruce. Bruce's plan isn't tested, though one could assume that he's done the math so to speak, but it's still Jason literally putting his life in Bruce's hands. It's also fairly clever because if Failsafe is some echo of Batman, then something in his programming probably knows about the emotional pain of Jason's initial death. So not only is "killing" going to make him glitch out, but killing Jason is probably the ultimate Failsafe glitch.

Deep down I think Jason knows how much he means to Bruce, even if Bruce is terrible at showing it sometimes. He's willing to take the risk and die, not for Bruce, but for the greater good of saving the day.

Let's also not forget that in the span of a short amount of (in-universe) time, Jason has saved the entire East Coast (end of Gotham War), Gotham City (end of The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing), and is now ready to die again to stop Failsafe--all while his brain is still probably a little messed up from Gotham War.

Let this young man take a damn vacation!

Was this issue perfect? No. And I agree with others about it not being cool that Steph, Cass, and Duke got sidelined as the clean-up crew, but I do think it showed a lot of Jason's deeper character (flawed or not) and how he's more than just the edgy, sarcastic bad boy. That part of him is just the hard candy shell he's had to create to protect the gooey center that is his hope, faith, and love. After all, Damian has previously (and rightly) called him out as the "emotional one".

P.S. I know my previous post picked on Jason's Red Hood outfit at the end and I still stand by the fact that it wasn't my favorite, but seeing that it's Jorge Jimenez's art, I can forgive it. I love most of Jorge's art and would kill (not literally) to be as talented as him, but that outfit design is still a no for me. Sorry, Jorge. :(

[sluttyten]

UNHOLY - Chapter Seventeen

full masterlist || UNHOLY chapter index

summary: when we last left off, you'd just met your father for the first time after escaping from the House of the Watchers with Mark, WinWin, and Renjun. Your father, Ira, has vowed to help you break Ten and Yuta out of Hell, but for the past month, nothing has changed. Now, the time has finally come for things to change.

length: 11,585 words

tags: smut, marking, blood play, thigh riding, multiple orgasms

<-previous || next–>

The truth is that planning a rescue mission takes a lot longer than you first thought it would. It’s been weeks, several solid weeks since Ira promised you that he would help reunite you with Ten and Yuta. Basically, it’s been an eternity of waiting, and there are many days when you find yourself wondering if Ira was telling the truth.

These days, Ira spends the majority of his time secluded in his office with whatever he’s doing muted by the strange dull buzz of magic, or he’s out on the island to gather plants for potions, or he’s conversing with the sirens. Sometimes you’re certain that he leaves the island entirely. 

For the most part, you don’t see Ira. You, Mark, WinWin, and Renjun are left to your own devices. 

That being said, on those rare days Ira does put in an appearance, he allots a certain amount of time to training you, teaching you properly your history and the magic of the Watchers. But you can’t help feeling suspicious about your father and what he’s really doing with most of his time. You feel as though no real progress is being made, and along with a sense of claustrophobia and anxiety from being cooped up on the island all the time, there’s also a growing sense of paranoia.

“Does it matter where he is?” WinWin asks one morning, his lips against the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “If he’s helping us get Yuta and Ten back, what does it matter where he’s at? Your dad is clearly a very secretive man, moving in the shadows and such, but that doesn’t mean he’s not working with all his power to get them back.”

You follow that with a sigh. You know WinWin is right. If Ira is helping you reunite with your missing boyfriends, then it shouldn’t truly matter where he disappears to. On the other hand, the fact that he always goes alone and never speaks a word of what he learns or does while he’s gone is somewhat suspicious. Right?

You’re still in bed this morning, weak sunlight shining through the curtains. 

“Where’s Mark?” You ask, thinking that if WinWin won’t dive into theorizing about Ira with you, then Mark might.

WinWin sighs. “I don’t know. He was gone when I woke up. You know how he’s been lately. He’s probably up on the roof brooding, or he’s out there exploring a cave or something.”

It’s true that lately Mark has been acting almost as strange as Ira. Sometimes you’ve realized Mark is missing just to later discover that he’s actually been shut away in Ira’s study together with your father, discussing things that you’re not privy to. When Mark’s not probably trying to win over your father’s affections, Mark has often been out of the house to explore the island while wearing sunglasses and toting around a parasol like a Victorian lady out on promenade.

“Should we go find him?” You ask WinWin, twisting around to face him.

WinWin’s arms tighten around you, drawing you in against his heat like a vice. “Or I could keep you all to myself, Princess.”

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze. “Do you think that’s smart? Now? In this house?”

That draws a groan from him.

Yes, maybe you’d still kept your sex life rather active while you’d been guests in the House of the Watchers, but that doesn’t mean you’re comfortable doing it in your father’s strange house. Too often over the last month you’ve been here, you’ve felt like the house has a certain level of sentience. Not to mention that Ira and every other inhabitant of the area is a supernatural being with probably supernatural hearing. And besides, it somehow feels disrespectful to this man whose blood you share but who you’re only just getting to know.

“Please?” WinWin begs, knotting his hands together against your tailbone to press you just that much closer to him. “I've been sitting here awake for a while. I haven’t heard anyone else move anywhere in the house.  If I had to guess, I’d say Ira’s out for the day again. Maybe Renjun’s down in the cove getting harassed by the sirens. And if Mark is around and in the mood to join us, fine, he’s welcome to come in.”

You stare at WinWin for a moment, sorting your wants and desires against a list of pros and cons. You want him as much as ever, but what if he’s wrong and someone else is in the house. But, on the other hand, his senses are strong enough that WinWin would be able to hear or smell if any of the others were around. And you really, really do want to fuck him. While you’re contemplating this, WinWin starts tracing distracting circles against the exposed skin of your lower back, dipping his fingers under the band of the shorts you’d worn to sleep in, and he’s just exuding a very strong aura of want that you’re feeling very receptive to.

He shivers against you when you lift a hand up to brush your fingers lightly along his jaw. You tilt your chin up a bit in response, and WinWin’s gaze dips down to your lips.

“Go on,” you goad him, “Take me like the dog you are.”

WinWin curls his lip. He releases a sound that blends his displeasure at your gibe with his overwhelming lust at being given permission.

You can’t help the thrill as WinWin grabs you a little roughly, as he flips you over so you’re facing away from him, your back against the solid warmth of his chest. An actual shiver breaks through you as WinWin slides his hand inside your shorts, his fingers moving right to the apex of your thighs, and he finds you already quite wet. He spreads your wetness as his fingers explore between your legs – gliding over your clit, teasingly light (almost ticklishly slow) along the sensitive skin to either side of your pussy, back to your pussy as he fills you with his touch – and he moves quickly, lowering his head back to the joint of your neck and your shoulder. 

WinWin’s lips are hot on your neck, his teeth sharp where he pinches your skin briefly. He grinds against your ass with a low growl from deep in his chest.

“Feeling possessive?” You gasp quietly as he sucks at the spot he’d pinched with his teeth. 

“Always.” He breathes in before saying, “I’ve always made it very obvious how much I want you, haven’t I? Why hide it now?”

And you know you’re going to have a big hickey on your throat before this is over, but you can’t bring yourself to really care, not when his fingers have found the spot inside you that makes your whole body tingle pleasantly. His fingers work magic, pulling silky sounds from your tongue as you dissolve into moans in his arms. WinWin’s mouth moves from your neck along your shoulder, alternately biting and kissing until there’s a visible trail of where his mouth has touched you.

You feel your flames flickering at the edges of your awareness, and it takes all of your limited control at the moment to keep your flames beneath the surface of your skin. WinWin brings you to orgasm on his fingers, and you’re still basking in the bliss of it when he withdraws his hand from your shorts. 

A small whine in protest is all that you manage before he has you turned onto your belly, as he’s shoving your shorts down to yours knees while you bury your face in your pillow, and WinWin’s hands are firm on your hips, dragging them up so when he slides up right behind you, you’re at the perfect angle for him. He takes his time pushing into you, which gets frustrating even though you know he’s doing it for your sake – it’s been weeks since you’ve actually had sex with him, and WinWin’s cock is too big to take without a bit of stretching and patience.

His hands smooth down over your shoulders, along your arms, and for a moment you believe it’s just a gentle touch meant to soothe, until you catch a hint of brimstone in the air, and you realize he’s putting out flames that have slipped past your notice.

“Relax,” WinWin says as he traces fingers along the length of your spine down to your tailbone. “You can take me.”

A long moan slips from your lips when WinWin bottoms out. You feel so full and wonderful when he starts moving, when his fingers dig against your hips and your abdomen, when WinWin lets go of his restraint and just fucks you without caring about how loud the pair of you are starting to get — the mattress squeaking, the headboard creaking, your barely muffled moans and cries of pleasure against the pillow, skin slapping together, WinWin’s moans that border on growling as he buries himself inside you time and again, growing rougher with each thrust and each time you squeeze around his cock. 

Your orgasm rushes through you, golden and flaming. You manage to contain your flames, channeling them to your hands so only the bedsheets and the edges of your pillow are damaged, singed and smoldering, giving off the scent of burnt fabric. 

WinWin puts a hand on your ass, spreading you open so he can watch as he spears into you, moving faster as your orgasm pulses through you. He pushes into you while your wetness drips down your thighs, his cock hitting repeatedly and delightfully against the same spot that has you quite sure that you’re either about to squirt or pass out or both given the stars you’re seeing. And then WinWin pushes in as deep as he can. You gasp at the sensation. Your pussy adapts to him, swallowing his cock all the way to the base, his hips dig against your ass, and he fills you with the hot rush of his climax. He makes a possessive sound like you’ve not heard since you were with him during his rut, and he thrusts into you a few more times until he’s finished. 

“Don’t fucking pull out,” you groan, pulling your mouth away from the damp pillow. You’ve soaked it with your spit and with tears you didn’t realize you were crying. “Don’t move.”

WinWin makes a low sound from deep in his chest. His hands move over your body, readjusting you beneath him so he can lower himself over you — his chest against your back, hips to your ass, cock deep inside you. His mouth finds that sensitive spot on your throat again, and he nuzzles in. 

You’re not certain how long you stay like that, dozing off and on, but eventually you awake. The sky outside is still bright with daylight, your stomach growls with hunger, and at some point WinWin has repositioned you both so now he’s reclined back against the pillows and the headboard, and you’re sitting in his lap, back to his chest, still cockwarming him. 

His head rests against the top of yours. 

You can feel the spot on your throat throbbing with a constellation of smaller yet still noticeable marks around it. You’re honestly a bit afraid to look in a mirror. 

As if WinWin can hear your thoughts, he laughs softly as he kisses the top of your head and slides his hands over the tops of your thighs. “Mark is going to be jealous he missed out.” He lifts one hand up to your neck, the other drifts between your legs to where he’s still inside you. “Although this is nothing compared to what he could do to your neck.”

You sigh, turning your head on his shoulder. “Ten would be outrageously jealous too. I love when he’s jealous. Best sex.” You smile a bit wistfully, and then admit, “I dreamt about them last night. I dreamt that you, Mark, and I were out about the island, and when we got back to the house, there they were at the kitchen table, laughing with Renjun and Ira, waiting for us.”

“Waiting for you,” WinWin corrects you. 

You shake your head sharply and sit up, turning your head to the side so you can actually see his face as you tell him, “No, I mean that they were waiting for us. The three of us. It wasn’t just me they were excited to see in the dream. Of course I’m the one that got the first and most enthusiastic greeting, but Yuta definitely grabbed Mark’s face and planted a kiss on him before he turned to you and basically caught you in a headlock so he could kiss you on the cheek.”

WinWin wrinkles his nose at that, and you laugh. That’s the same face he’d made in the dream. 

“Don’t even get me started on what Ten did to you then. He asked me to join and it was a whole thing in the dream.” You’re just teasing, and WinWin laughs along with you, even rolling his eyes. 

“Damn, I can’t wait to get them back,” he jokes, “It’ll give me and Mark a break.” Not even a breath later WinWin wraps his arms around you to draw you back against his chest, he kisses your cheek and says, “I’m only joking, of course. I would actually love having you like this all the time, and I hope you know it.” One of his hands slides down to your abdomen, warm against your belly. He tucks his chin, his mouth again on your shoulder. “I love you.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. “And I love you.” 

WinWin has said those words to you a few times over the few weeks you’ve been here. Casually and easily telling you he loves you. But never has he said it so seriously, with so much truth and emotion behind the words. And you haven’t said it back until now either. 

But you mean it. You feel those words wholeheartedly. 

“I love you,” you tell him again. 

You turn around in his lap, dragging yourself off his cock, but neither of you seems to mind that loss when you’re cupping his face in your hands, repeating, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” as you kiss him. 

WinWin tumbles you in the bed again, your bodies meeting and intertwining, and it’s at least another hour or so before either of you manages to drag yourselves out of bed for the day. The sky outside looks like it’s tipping towards evening, the blue in the sky turning a bit richer, the horizon taking on the golden color of the sinking sun. 

The house is still quiet. 

WinWin showers while you descend to Ira’s kitchen. You never question the magic of manifesting things anymore, even though maybe you should wonder how you can sit at his kitchen table on this unplottable island that no one but it’s current inhabitants knows that it exists and you can wish for a McDonalds burger and it will appear on the plate before you. Did it go missing from a McDonalds somewhere in the mortal world? Or does the universe have the capability to actually just pull matter together into exactly what you want?

By the time WinWin joins you in the kitchen, the sky is in full-blown sunset mode. You have a selection of manifested foods on the table — a McDonald's quarter-pounder among them — and you both decide to fill your plates and take your dinner outside on the wrap-around porch, enjoying the breeze and the sunset and the sweet air of Ira’s island. 

You’ve been sitting on the porch steps for maybe five minutes when you hear footsteps rounding the corner of the house. 

Renjun approaches, with tousled hair and an easy grin. “Hey,” he greets amiably, “The sirens almost wouldn’t let me leave. Minnie kept offering to catch fish for my dinner and de-bone it for me too. Do you have any food left inside?” Renjun glances down at your plate. 

“It’s all still in there. You can grab a plate and come join us.” The sky darkens by degrees with every passing moment, and you watch as fireflies appear out of the grass, blinking all across the island like tiny stars. Renjun sits down beside WinWin a few moments later with his filled plate, and together the three of you eat and watch the sun dip beneath the horizon. 

“Are Ira and Mark not back yet?” Renjun eventually asks. “They were heading out when I went down to the cove this morning.”

“Did they tell you where?” You ask. 

A sharp shake of his head. “I figure it’s not my business. Ira’s always had his secrets.”

But Mark tells you everything. Why hadn’t he told you or WinWin where he was going or even that he was going somewhere? You’d never known Ira to take any of you with him, and even though he and Mark were clearly plotting some secretive thing together in the lighthouse’s study, Mark hadn’t mentioned that this could even have been a plan.

“Should we be worried?” WinWin asks aloud the question that has been creeping in the back of your mind. “I mean, isn’t Ira usually back from his disappearances by now?” 

Renjun shrugs. “Last week there was one night I couldn’t sleep so I got up to get a dose of moonlight, and I saw Ira from my window. He was out in the yard, walking towards the house all tired-like, as if he’d been somewhere. Who knows where he goes or what he’s doing. Maybe he’s found someone to negotiate with about your other boyfriends.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest. “But if that’s the case, then why wouldn’t he say something. And if that is what he and Mark are doing, why would he take Mark? And why wouldn’t Mark say anything to me?”

“To not get your hopes up.” Renjun shrugs. “But I really don’t think this is anything to worry about. Give them another hour or two, and maybe then if they’re not back we can question it a bit more.” 

That’s not the answer you were hoping for, but WinWin agrees with Renjun, and they both change the subject to talk about moon phases and their effects on elves and werewolves. 

It seems like much longer than two hours later, still sitting there on the porch, that you think you see something in the distance, a disruption in the darkness out beyond the house’s fence. WinWin and Renjun are still chatting, but you’re sitting with your arms wrapped around yourself, eyes tracking the darkness for whatever you think you just saw. 

And there it is again. 

A flicker of something. 

You grab WinWin’s arm, squeezing it, never pulling your gaze away from that little flicker you just saw. 

“What?” He asks, turning to look out into the darkness with you. 

“Is there something moving out there?” You ask, keeping your voice at a whisper. “I thought I saw something.”

Now the werewolf and the elf beside you both fall silent and look out into the dark stretch of island before you. Nothing moves except the grass waving in the night wind off the sea. WinWin’s eyes are better at seeing through the dark than either you or Renjun’s probably, but he shakes his head. 

“I don’t see anything.” He lays his hand over yours. “Sorry, but I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“I could’ve sworn….” You trail off, not wanting to push the matter, not wanting to sound crazy. Maybe you’d just imagined it, hoping too much to see Mark and Ira reappear. 

You blink a few times, wondering if maybe your eyes are just growing tired. 

But no. 

There was definitely something. 

A flicker, like before. Like a flash of a reflection, a blip of a reflected light in the dark. Out of place. 

You strain your eyes to see through the night, to make out anything there. But all you can see is the grass, the distant fence, and the yet more distant edge of the island with the sea and the stars beyond. 

“There!” WinWin exclaims suddenly, flinging his arm in front of you, pointing. 

But he hasn’t seen the blip that you’d seen, he’s pointing in the opposite direction, towards the stairs carved in the cliff’s face. A ball of light is bobbing over the grass towards the house, and in the shadows cast by the ball’s light, you make out a pair of figures. 

“Is there something wrong with my table?” Ira calls, “Why are you three dining outside?”

As they approach the fence, the shadows cast by the light separate into a handful of figures, more than just Mark and Ira. Ira opens the gate, Mark steps through, making a beeline for you with a happy expression. Behind him, the other shadowy figures step inside, welcomed in by Ira. 

You recognize the first one through after Mark. You met Haechan a few times during your excursions into the underground of Hell City’s night scene. Haechan trails right behind Mark, looking up at Ira’s lighthouse in awe.

The four others that file in afterwards are entirely unfamiliar, though to be fair you don’t spend too much time looking at them because Mark is coming towards you.

Mark smiles as he comes closer, but the moment that he collapses onto the porch step with you, he puts a hand on your jaw so he can tilt your chin and better see the large hickey WinWin marked you with earlier. “I see what you two got up to today,” he says with a smile, brushing his thumb over the sensitive spot on your skin. “Did you have time to miss me at all?”

“Dude, you sound desperate,” Haechan teases, climbing the steps as well, looking around at the porch. “Isn’t she with those two demons? Why are you flirting with her?”

The words are like a small punch to your belly. 

“Shut up, man.” Mark drops his hand from your chin, reaching for your hand instead. “Don’t worry about what you can’t understand. She has enough love to give to me, the demons, and WinWin.”

Haechan’s eyes sparkle as he looks back and forth between you and Mark. “What about for me?”

Renjun responds before anyone else gets the chance. “What makes you think you’ve even got a chance with her, vampire?”

For the first time, Haechan looks at the elf, a frown creasing his brow. “And who or what the hell are you?”

Renjun bristles at that, his voice filling with attitude when he replies, “I’m Renjun. I’m an elf. What and who the hell are you?”

Haechan smirks. “I like you.”

“I can’t say the same,” comes Renjun’s sharp reply. “You haven’t made a very good first impression. And you haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m a vampire, part of Mark’s coven.” Haechan gestures at Mark. “And I thought all you elves were supposed to be all happy and ethereal and kumbaya.”

Now, Renjun’s eyes flash silver, and you know him well enough to be able to read just how pissed off he is at that comment. Something magical sizzles in the air, and maybe you should be worried for Haechan, but you’re also pretty sure that he can hold his own. 

Though Haechan doesn’t seem put off by Renjun’s irritation, if anything he seems encouraged. “You’re kinda cute when your eyes do that, elf boy.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “Renjun’s already been claimed by a siren, Haechan. Find someone else to flirt with. Plus, he’s too good and pure for you.”

Haechan takes that as a challenge. “Like you just said, Mark, when has something like that ever stopped me?” 

Renjun gets up from the steps and disappears inside the house, Haechan looks after him like he wants to follow and keep pestering the elf, but that’s when Ira calls his name. Haechan’s head snaps around to your father, attentive. 

You look again at the strangers gathered behind your father. The four newcomers look between you and Ira, between Mark and WinWin, staring in awe at the house rising behind you. You don’t know any of them, but judging by the way that one of the taller guys keeps glancing at WinWin, you think he might know him. And the stiff way that WinWin is sitting beside you supports your theory. 

On your other side, Mark clears his throat. “I’m sorry we were gone all day, baby,” he apologizes, “Ira came to me with this idea last night, and I didn’t want to wake you this morning to talk about it. But we had to leave early if we wanted to get everything done today.”

“What did you do?” You ask, sliding your hand around Mark’s wrist, bringing his hand away from where he’s stroking his thumb over the hickey on your throat. “Where did you go?”

“Ira and I went to Hell City. He said we needed to recruit a team for his plan.” Mark’s eyes shine with excitement, the words spilling out quickly as he says, “Ira has a plan for us to get Yuta and Ten back.”

Now, finally, you look to your father and his pack of strangers that still stand in his shadow. He meets your gaze with an affirming nod. “I promised you, daughter, that I would reunite you with your demons. I want you to be happy.” He steps towards you, and then, looking almost nervous, he says, “These past few weeks I’ve been studying ancient texts and maps and accounts of visits to Hell Proper. I’ve left the island to talk to those I thought may provide some insight. There’s a demon that I’m still familiar with who I met with to ask about your demons; what level of guard are they under — are they imprisoned or just kept under close watch or what is their status? I’ve been given all the answers that I have gone seeking, and now I’m implementing a plan. I want to see you happy, even if that means going through Hell and back.”

You fight the urge to hug this man, your father. It’s still strange to think of him that way. He’s still hardly more than a stranger, even after these few weeks spent living in his home. But it’s undeniable that there is some familial bond there, that he’s trying to close that distance that your mother and all the fighting between the demons and Watchers had created. 

He looks at you now with emotion in his eyes, a look that reminds you so much of the way that your mother and your human father had once looked at you. Full of love, full of hope. 

Ira makes a sound of surprise when you collide with him. You wrap your arms around him, your chin on his shoulder. “Thank you… Dad.”

Ira’s arms tighten around you, his head resting against the side of yours. “I’m sorry for all of these years that I wasn’t able to be in your life. I know this isn’t going to make up for all of that,” he apologizes, “But do you think this counts as a start?”

You nod. “Of course.”

You regret now the way you’d spoken to WinWin about Ira this morning. As if he was suspicious, as if you couldn’t trust his actions or the promises he’d made. But now look at what he’s done for you. 

After another moment, you detach from the hug, returning to the porch step between Mark and WinWin. Immediately, they both reach for you. WinWin’s arm slides over your shoulders, and Mark’s hand curves over your thigh. All three of you look up at Ira and his band of strangers. 

“Mark has already met them, but I’d like you to meet our new friends,” Ira says, gesturing back at his companions. 

The tallest of the shadowy figures steps forward into a pool of light, but you notice the way that the shadows continue to cling to his edges, draping in tentacular tendrils over his shoulders. His eyes are captivating, a warm smile just as welcoming, and you find yourself returning his smile. He introduces himself, “I’m Johnny.”

WinWin holds out his hand to shake, and one of Johnny’s shadow tendrils reaches out, grasping WinWin’s hand. The idea of touching the shadow scares you a bit, so you settle on just nodding your head in greeting. 

Next is Jaemin, a man with another warm smile, though his eyes hold the dark terrible truth. He sighs and looks away when he realizes you’ve noticed his eyes. “I am a demon,” he confesses, stepping back beside one of the other men. “But only half. The other half of me is human, and I promise that my mortal parents raised me to be decent. I attended boarding school in Hell, but I haven’t been back there since. But I do still remember my way around.”

The guy beside him laughs and throws his arm over Jaemin’s shoulders. “I also attended school there which is why I’m here. I’m Jeno.” He grins quickly at Mark, “I’m also a vampire, though not part of Mark’s coven.”

Beside you Mark snorts. “Not for lack of trying. He won’t join me, seems to want to be my rival. He owns The Ruin, that bar in the city that’s known for brawling.” 

Jeno grins proudly. “More of a gambling den, but I can’t help it if so many fights break out when people lose.”

Lastly, the tall man who kept looking at WinWin introduces himself, cutting off Jeno’s boasting about The Ruin. “I’m Jaehyun. Shape-shifter.” He glances away from WinWin to look at you and then at Mark before his gaze returns once more to WinWin. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

WinWin, still sitting stiffly beside you, lets out a growl that rumbles low in his chest. “Can you not think of why that might be?”

Jaehyun’s chin juts out. “I never got the chance to explain myself. You never let me.”

WinWin just shakes his head, announcing to the rest of you, “There was once a time when Jaehyun and I were seeking initiation to the same pack at the same time, but when they chose to keep Jaehyun and abandon me, he didn’t argue against their decision. I’d believed we were friends, brothers even, but the next thing I knew I was alone in the city. No one in the pack would even acknowledge me. I was shunned, and my closest friend also pretended I didn’t exist.”

The other werewolf’s eyes flash. “Why do you think I didn’t argue? You were my closest friend, too. Do you think I’ve ever been as happy in the pack as I was when we were together, Win?” Jaehyun steps closer. “I bitched about it for weeks after you left until Alpha eventually commanded me to stop talking about you. I wanted you around, and their flimsy-ass excuses for why they didn’t choose to let you become an initiate never seemed good enough to me, but you know you can’t disobey an Alpha’s command, so I had no choice but to shut up about you and accept that you were gone. I couldn’t talk about you or even talk to you, not in any way.”

“And now?” You find your voice, longing to stand up for your boyfriend. “You’re talking to him and about him now.”

Jaehyun shifts his attention to you, watching the comfortable way that WinWin and Mark both gravitate to you. His gaze slides along the arm WinWin has over your shoulders. He explains, “Now I’m free. I left the pack and I’ve been alone for months; I’ve broken the hold of the Alpha’s commands. I fell in with these guys, so when Jaemin heard that Ira was looking for help, and especially when he mentioned Ira’s daughter’s werewolf boyfriend named WinWin, I knew I would come help my old friend. And this all sounds complicated and fun. I’m up for a challenge.”

WinWin growls quietly. “The rest of us aren’t in this for fun, y’know?”

Jaehyun nods. “Of course. You’re in this to rescue your friends. But you have to admit that the idea of breaking into Hell, fighting some demon ass, and living to see the hazy sunlight of Hell City again does sound like fun, right?”

Jeno the vampire chuckles. “This is going to be fun. You’re all too serious about it, but we’re going to kick ass and bring your demons back. What more could we ask for?”

Haechan scoffs behind you where he’s still standing on the porch. His arms are crossed in front of his chest. “It’s going to be dangerous. You guys are treating it so lightly, but I know what I’m signing on for. I’m loyal to Mark, but that doesn’t mean that I’m walking into this mission blindly or without considering the risks.”

You notice Mark turning to look at his friend, a soft look in his eyes. “I think that we’re all here now, and we’re all in agreement on the goal of what we’re doing. You’ve all done a lot of travel and experienced a lot more magic today than I’m sure you were expecting. Let’s all just relax tonight, and tomorrow we’ll discuss everything in the light of day with well-rested and clear minds.”

Everyone agrees to that.

Ira leads the way inside the house. Renjun looks up from his seat in the sitting room to the left. He takes one look at the cluster of newcomers and quickly ducks his head back towards the book in his lap. Ira gives the cursory tour, gesturing to the occupied sitting room, the kitchen, the bedrooms upstairs, his study in the left wing of the next floor. “You’re welcome to choose your own rooms, as the others have done. You can manifest whatever you need, including meals at the table. You’re guests in my home, so feel free to use it as such. I’m heading back out,” he says this with a look towards you. “I have some other plans I need to touch on before we discuss all this in the morning.”

He’s gone back out the door before you get the chance to question him.

No sooner has the door shut behind him than Jaehyun turns to WinWin. “Can I please talk with you?”

WinWin starts to snarl, but the pleading look on the other werewolf’s face seems to do just the trick. WinWin relents, but his expression still looks stony as he agrees. 

They head into the sitting room, which causes Renjun to depart the room, hurrying up the stairs to his bedroom. The new guys slowly follow him upstairs, their footsteps creaking along the hallway up there as they choose bedrooms. You drift to the kitchen, needing a snack although you quickly find yourself distracted by the way that Mark follows so closely behind you that he may as well be your shadow. The entire time you stand there snacking in the doorway of Ira’s pantry, Mark is right at your side, touching you — brushing his fingers at your wrist, his foot nudging against yours, resting his head on your shoulder as if he’s impossibly tired — and he’s always looking right at you while he keeps quiet conversation, babbling to you about his and Ira’s adventures today. 

You’re not exactly tired since you hardly left the bed today, but after you eat, all you feel like doing is finally showering and curling up in your bed upstairs. 

“Can I come?” Mark asks gently when you voice your plans. “I’ll be quiet.”

You lift a hand, tracing your fingers along his jaw. “I’m not really planning to sleep just yet. I was thinking of reading or something, so if you want to come cuddle with me, I’d be happy with that.”

Mark immediately slides his arms around your waist, drawing you in against him. You shiver as his bare skin meets a spot on your hip where your shirt has ridden up a little. “I’m sorry,” Mark apologizes. “I know I’m cold.”

“I don’t mind,” you reassure him, but Mark gives you a sharp look as if he doesn’t believe you. You push playfully at his chest. “Really, Mark. I don’t mind the cold. Especially when I have you and WinWin with me. He’s too warm. But you’re not too cold. You’re just cool.”

A small smile flickers at the corners of his lips. “I am cool, aren’t I? The coolest.”

You roll your eyes, and step away from him, starting to walk away. “Come on. I want to shower first. I feel like I just smell like WinWin right now.”

Mark catches your waist before you can make it a few steps. He fits himself along your back, and his nose touches your shoulder. “You do smell like sex, baby. Sex and a little like wet dog.”

You push him back. “Shut up. I do not.”

Mark laughs behind you. “You’re the one that said it first, you know. I’m just confirming it.” He catches up with you in the entryway, pausing momentarily at the sound of the low voices emanating from the sitting room. “What do you think of that guy?” Mark asks, nodding his head towards the doorway of the other room. 

“Jaehyun?” You ask, and Mark nods. You shrug. “I don’t know. He’s handsome, tall, and seems sorry for his bad past with WinWin. Why?”

Mark shrugs too. “It was just weird when he joined Ira and I earlier. Like he just seemed out of place, y’know?”

“Maybe it’s because he knew that WinWin wasn’t going to be welcoming him with open arms,” you suggest. “But they’re talking, so I’m sure WinWin will fill us in later. As for us….” You turn around as you climb the stairs, and you reach a hand down towards Mark. “Like I said, I want to shower and climb into bed, and I don’t want to get out until tomorrow.”

Mark slides his hand into yours, and he nearly drags you the rest of the way up the stairs and into the bathroom. You don’t say a word, just following where he leads, feet barely touching the ground again until the moment Mark spins you around, pinning you back against the closed door. 

You suck in a breath. “What are you doing?”

Mark brushes your hair aside to expose your neck and shoulders, the hickeys left behind by WinWin. He traces the bruises and bites with his fingertips. 

“You feel so warm,” Mark whispers, dipping his head forward, his lips brushing over your shoulder. “And I was joking downstairs; you smell so good, baby. Sweet. Like sex. Are you sure I don’t feel awfully cold to you?” 

He’s asked the last question because you shiver again as Mark draws his nose up the side of your neck. Of course, there’s the chill when his skin touches yours, but you truly don’t mind it. Not really. And if Mark touches you enough, your heat seems to transfer to his skin. When he’s just drunk blood he’s warmer too. Maybe because of that thought, your head tilts to the side, exposing your throat a bit more to him. 

Mark’s lips find your pulse, his tongue flicks out between his lips.

The shuddery sigh that breaks from you is ridiculous. Mark knows it too as he kisses your throat again, his hands snake around your hips. 

“I’m sad I missed out earlier. If I’d known that you were going to be down for some fun today, maybe I’d have turned down Ira’s invitation to recruit in Hell City.” His tongue traces along your pulse, and you can feel sparks floating through your veins. “Can I make up for lost time now?”

“Right now?” Your voice comes out breathy.

Mark laughs against your skin. “I mean, we could go to bed, but I can feel your pulse racing already, and we’re already alone.” He presses his lips right over the excited beat in your throat. “We can do it here if you like, baby.”

“I want it. I want you.”

Mark’s hands on your hips move for the waistband of the pants you’re wearing. One hand slides easily inside, the other snakes higher beneath your top. His lips curl in delight when he finds that you’re wearing neither a bra beneath the shirt nor panties under your pants. His teeth drag tantalizingly over your neck once more, and you make a sound that blends a gasp and a sigh, a sound just full of want. 

Mark echoes it back to you in the instant before he finally bites. 

Your view goes fuzzy around the edges, arousal bleeds through you like your fire does. It feels like power. 

Mark licks and sucks and kisses your throat, cleaning up the spilled blood with his tongue, leaving his moans against your skin. His fingers massage your tit with one hand and your clit with the other until you’ve melted against him, his skin warming against yours due in thanks to his taste of you and his proximity with you. You shiver, and this time, it has nothing to do with how cold he normally is. 

Just outside the door, right behind your back, you hear voices and laughter as two of your father’s houseguests pass by. But you can’t bring yourself to be bothered, not when Mark’s fangs dig in again, not when he’s filling you with his fingers. 

“God,” you gasp, dropping your head back. There’s a definite thud when the back of your head meets the wooden door, and if that wasn’t enough to alert the passersby of something going on in here, then definitely they should know after hearing your moan of, “Mark, I want you.”

His moan vibrates through you, his mouth hot on the spot where your neck and shoulder join. Your belly is tying itself in knots, body flushing with heat, tingling pleasantly. You still have the memory of WinWin fresh all over you, inside and out, the slight ache between your legs that transforms more as you’re filled with need for Mark. His fingers aren’t nearly enough for you, and you both know it. 

You push away from the door, and Mark steps backwards with you without ceasing touching you. He laughs lightly against your skin when you stumble over the edge of the bathmat on the floor, landing firmly against his chest, his teeth dig into your throat. 

“Shit,” you hiss with pleasure. 

You grasp at Mark’s shoulders, clutching at the back of his neck, drawing him closer. You slide one hand from the back of his neck down the curve of his spine. Your other hand drifts from his shoulder, skimming along his chest, and you drag your palm over the front of his pants, grinding the heel of your palm over his growing erection. 

“Come on, Mark,” you encourage him, “Don’t you want to make up for missing out earlier? Don’t you want to leave a memory of you for WinWin to find and be jealous about too?”

His breath tickles your sensitive skin as he pulls his mouth away from the bite he’s left on you. “Baby, you taste too good. Did you know that? You’re so sweet.” He laps at the blood that wells out of the bitemark. “I love the way every part of you tastes.”

He undresses you fluidly, quickly. Your clothes almost just vanish from your body, Mark a blur in front of you, and then he’s solidly on his knees looking up at you, steam filling the bathroom from the shower that he must’ve turned on in all of his blurry movement. The sound of the water falling against the tiles is hopefully loud enough now to conceal your gasp of pleasure as Mark curls his hands around the backs of your thighs, as he lifts one of your thighs up to his shoulder, as he nuzzles against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his tongue darting out to catch a taste of your wetness gathering along the slit between your legs. 

You knot your fingers through Mark’s hair, trying to find balance on one foot as you’re unmoored from the wall in the middle of the bathroom. You angle your hips, rolling forward as Mark begins really going for it. He moans softly, and his tongue dips inside you, tongue-fucking you while you drag your nails against his scalp. You’re riding it out, feeling the sweet tingle of pleasure building behind your navel as Mark’s tongue works magic, but he draws his mouth away too soon. 

“No, don’t stop!” You tug again at his hair, and Mark turns his smile against your thigh, teeth scraping lightly. 

“Who said I was stopping?” His fingers take over from his lips and tongue. “I can’t be this close to you, smelling you and tasting you all around me, and not want to taste you in a different way, to bite you and make you all mine.”

You laugh but the sound becomes a moan as Mark turns his mouth against your inner thigh and nips lightly, fangs just barely breaking skin. “You want to turn me, Mark?”

He shakes his head no, biting a little deeper, fucking you with his fingers a little faster. 

“You just want to leave your claim on me? Cover me in your bitemarks so when we storm Hell and I fall back into Yuta and Ten’s arms, they’ll see what you’ve been doing to me? See exactly where you and WinWin have been touching me?”

Mark chomps down, and this time there’s no mistaking your gasping moan of his name. His venom works its magic — the aphrodisiac power of it surges through you, and you cum almost instantly.

But he’s not yet finished. 

Another bite beside the first, deep and burning. You can feel your pulse racing, and when you look down, you can see Mark’s mouth sealed against your thigh, the blissed out glow in his eyes when they lift to meet your gaze. He’s drinking from you like he’s starved, and the fiery red glow in his eyes unfolds like an inferno in his irises. The red consumes the deep black, until the eyes you’re looking into are vivid red. 

Maybe you should be feeling the blood loss even a little bit as Mark drains you through the femoral artery, but you don’t feel it. There’s no wooziness or cold, there’s no sense of urgency to get him to stop. Instead, it’s quite the opposite. 

Waves roll through you, pleasure building atop bliss again and again until you feel positively molten in Mark’s hands. You don’t want him to stop, because although he’s the one drinking from you, you’re being given power, like your fire is gushing through your veins in liquid gold. 

Mark jerks backwards from the bite on your thigh, moving to the other leg to scatter kisses there, trailing closer to the place where his fingers disappear still inside you. 

His tongue sweeps along your pussy, gathering your cum that spills from around his fingers. 

You twist your hand tightly in his hair, a drawn out moan of his name uncontrollably leaves you. 

When you look down at Mark’s head between your thighs, his hair fucked up by your touch, you’re hit by an urge to just kiss him. 

“Mark,” you whine, “Kiss me. That’s enough.”

He obeys immediately, although his lips don’t leave your skin. He’s no longer even slightly cold to the touch; his lips burn as his kisses travel along an upward path, leading from your pussy over your abdomen. His hands move as well — slick fingers curl against the back of your thigh, letting the one leg fall from his shoulder just so he can caress the backs of both legs, his hands fill with your ass for a brief moment before moving higher. His fingers trace the topography of your ribcage and spine while his lips map out your belly and the valley between your breasts. 

Mark rises to his feet. 

His exploratory kisses climb to the peaks of each breast, pausing to stake his claim there. You loop your arms around his shoulders, pressing your fingers now against the back of his head to feel more as he licks and sucks at one nipple, his hand gently massages the other, and his knee dips forward between your legs to give you something to rub against as Mark backs you against the wall again. 

You come close to orgasming like that, from rolling your hips, rubbing yourself on Mark’s bare thigh while he favors your tits with his attention. 

“Stop playing with me!” You moan. “Come on, Mark.”

His lips pause around your nipple, curling into a smile. He flicks his tongue once more against the hardened peak of it before he pulls back to look you in the eye. “What do you want, baby? Tell me. Go on. Use your words.”

It’s hard to find the words when he’s still got one hand teasing and tweaking your nipple, the other hand has slid back down to massage your ass, and then of course there’s the way that you’re grinding your clit against his increasingly slick thigh. All of it makes it quite difficult to focus on putting into words what you want. 

“Come on,” Mark teases, leaning in to kiss your neck. There’s a hint of his fangs again on the thin skin above your racing pulse. “Tell me precisely what you want, darling.”

You groan in frustration, a whimper as Mark’s hand on your ass moves to your hip, stilling you on his thigh. He’s silently clear: tell him in words what you want from him. 

“Mark, I want you. I need you inside me. Want to feel your cock filling me up like only you can.”  You drop your head forward against his shoulder. “Mark, I need to feel you fuck me, make love to me, take me and claim me.”

Mark’s lips touch your cheek now.

“Good. All you had to do was ask.”

In one quick move, Mark sweeps both of your legs up around his hips. He turns away from the wall, walking with you into the warmth of the shower. Again, your back meets the wall now, but as your head rests back against the tile of the shower, Mark’s lips find yours. 

His kiss is hungry and domineering. He’s kissing you, and there’s no mistaking how he wants you. You can feel his erection against you, and you swear all it’ll take is just you shifting your hips just-so to have him inside you. 

Mark smiles as if he can read your thoughts, or perhaps he can sense the way your body is moving, shifting in his arms between him and the wall, trying to get exactly what you want. 

He drops a hand down between your bodies. There’s an exhalation as he wraps a hand around himself, as he guides his cock to your pussy, and finally Mark rolls forward. 

“Oh, yes,” you sigh. Mark chuckles at your reaction, the way that you drop your head back against the shower wall and close your eyes. 

He kisses your jaw, down your throat, licks along your collarbones and across your chest. Mark moves, steadily stretching you around his cock with slow thrusts that grow steadily deeper and rougher. 

“Mark, Mark, Mark,” his name falls like a mantra from your lips. 

He moans, the sounds vibrating against your chest where he keeps his head buried as he tries to fold himself into you, to bury himself as deep as he can again and again, and you just feel as if you’re swelling with all of the emotion and the sexual gratification you’ve received. You’ve already cum a few times since you entered this bathroom with him, and you’re high on it and you just want to bring Mark up somewhere closer to the level where you are right now. 

Everything else falls away until it’s only Mark’s body against and inside yours, just the slick wall of the shower behind your back and the spray of water that touches on your awareness each time the spray of it meets your skin like scattered constellations. It’s just the beat of your heart racing beneath Mark’s lips, his thrusts, his hands on your skin, his fingers that sink to your clit while he mouths at your throat and curses in a language you don’t know. 

Mark cums like that, your walls tight around him. The feeling of him spilling inside you and his fingers still going against your clit pushes you over the edge again too. 

You clutch at Mark, reluctant to let him go even when he tries to step back. He laughs softly, lips against your ear as he moves you away from the wall and directly beneath the shower’s spray. You cling to him, legs squeezed around his hips. It takes quite a while, a bit of gentle coaxing, and half a shower later (Mark talking with you about all of his adventures earlier that day as he washes your back and your hair and everything else he can easily reach) before you drop your legs from his hips and stand on your own two feet to finish the shower. 

Mark kisses your forehead. 

WinWin finds you and Mark then. He slips in the bathroom door, strips off his clothes, and joins you in the shower without much ado. 

“How’d the talk with your friend go?” Mark asks as he washes down his chest. “Are you besties again?”

WinWin rolls his eyes. “No. But I think we understand each other a little bit more now. We can work together.” 

“That’s good,” you say, patting his chest as you lean your back against the shower wall to observe the two men with you. “Hopefully the better we all work together, the quicker we’ll get to Hell and back.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever been more excited to go to Hell,” Mark laughs. 

And it’s in that moment that you realize you are excited to go to Hell. Not just because you’ll be reunited at long last with Ten and Yuta, but because maybe while you’re down there, you’ll discover something new about your history, something new about your mother. Of course, it’s mostly for Ten and Yuta that you want to go there. 

“Just don’t forget about me once we’ve got them back.” Mark steps out of the shower without another word, leaving you and WinWin in silence. 

It breaks your heart a bit to think of that. Does Mark think that all of this with him is only because Yuta and Ten aren’t here? Because that’s not it at all. You had feelings for him before they were taken by the Watchers. You’ve wanted to be with him since before your boyfriends gave you the go-ahead. You want Mark to know that he’s not just your fourth choice, he’s not a backup that’s going to be cast aside. 

WinWin remains behind in the shower as you depart. You wrap a towel tight around yourself as you follow Mark towards your bedroom at the end of the hall. 

He laughs a little when you catch up to him, when you throw your arms around his shoulders from behind, glue yourself to his back. He keeps walking into the bedroom, over to the bed, and it’s only because you lift your legs to hook your ankles in front of him that Mark doesn’t drag you the rest of the way. But as soon as you’re in the bedroom, he turns and drops you backwards onto the bed. 

You don’t let go, even when Mark is lying on top of you and both of you are shaking with laughter. Even when WinWin walks in a moment later, clutching his towel at his waist, you don’t release Mark. 

He could break your hold if he really wanted to, but he seems content to be held in your arms. WinWin slides back into bed, and you take a moment to rearrange, to rest your head on his stomach while you hold Mark. You pet Mark’s head, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“You know nothing is going to change, right?” You can feel Mark relaxing against you. “After we’ve got them back, this will still be the same.”

“Will it?” Mark asks. “Then there will be four of us, one of you. Splitting your time between WinWin and I, that’s not difficult, but with an extra two? One of us is bound to slip through the cracks, and I can’t help feeling like it’s going to be me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” WinWin grunts. 

“He’s not being stupid. If he feels that way, that’s perfectly valid.” You slide one hand down from Mark’s head to his chest so your palm rests over his unbeating heart. “Now, what he’s just said is not going to be true, but his feelings are valid. I can balance the four of you.” Mark tips his head against you. “I can handle the four of you.”

Now WinWin laughs. “I can’t wait to see you try to handle all four of us at once, Princess.”

That at last draws Mark out of his state a little, he pulls your arms away from him so he can get up, and rearrange. The three of you pile together in the bed; you rest back against WinWin, and Mark curls in towards you, resting his head on your chest. 

It’s not like you were expecting a grand reception at the Gates of Hell. You weren’t expecting them to welcome you and your party inside, but you certainly didn’t expect them to be waiting for you, with demon guards armed to the teeth, ready to escort you and your party directly to the Queen of the Night. Yet here you stand before the massive Gates of Hell — ebony wood carved with grotesques, the flickering shadows cast by the torches mounted beside the doors make the carvings seem alive, and the red stone the doors are set in seems painted with the blood of a million humans. 

It is the stuff of your nightmares. 

The demon guards with their gleaming weapons escort you and your friends inside, encircling you so that none of you are left out, closing in tighter and tighter until it’s impossible for you to see around them and you begin to feel claustrophobic. A cool hand slips into yours. Mark squeezes your fingers, and the strength in his hand makes you feel a bit better. The solid heat of WinWin against your back as you bump back against him helps too. 

You make your way forward in the tight cluster until the guards bring you to a stop. 

Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise you when they single you out, when you’re dragged forward away from the others who seem to melt immediately into darkness and shadow behind you. In the moment, all that you can see is the glowing runes encircling the patch of floor you stand on — some of which seem semi-familiar, like ones that Ten and Yuta may have taught you once back in your apartment you shared with them — and the massive throne in front of you. 

The Queen of the Night sits veiled in shadow. 

Her throne seems unscalable, black stone that reflects torchlight from behind you. Orange and gold glimmers of light catch on the facets, and you realize the throne is weeping moisture as well, thin rivulets spilling down the stone to pool upon the floor. 

When the Queen speaks, you can’t even attempt to decipher her words because all you can see is what sits at the base of her throne. Heavy chains slither through the dark pool, each chain loops and twists around the ankles, wrists, and neck of your boyfriends. 

Yuta and Ten stand just feet in front of you. 

No one is holding you back. 

You take a step towards them. Another. 

Your toes touch the dark water of the pool, and strange ripples grow outward from that spot. Another step, and the water comes alive. The darkness crawls up your calves and thighs, and you struggle forward, reaching for Yuta and Ten as they stare blankly at you, emotionless and unfeeling as the black water pulls higher up your body, weighing you down and dragging you under. 

You’re sucked into the deep when you’re only three steps in. Black water covers your head and pushes you deeper and deeper, pouring into your nose and mouth. 

And then suddenly you’re not alone in the water. Out of the corner of your eye, things flash and shimmer dangerously, and you turn your head in every direction, trying to figure out what is around you in these moments before you drown. 

The water grows lighter by degrees and you see Seulgi and Sunmi and Minnie. The sirens. 

It is their fins that keep catching light and reflecting it as they swim in dizzying circles around you in the black-blue water. You’re in deep above your head, the blackness of the water swells beneath you, and the sirens grin with sharp smiles, singing haunting melodies without offering any help. In fact, it almost feels as if their constant circling is somehow pulling you deeper, drowning you. Their voices ring louder and louder in your ears even as the crushing pressure of the water closes around you and—

You jolt awake, gasping for breath, hands at your throat. 

Mark is out of bed, sitting with the windows open, his face tilted and eyes closed as he enjoys the light sea breeze. A distant glimmer of the sunrise teases against the horizon — peachy pink between the deep blue-gray of the clouds and the choppy steel shade of the morning sea. 

WinWin places a gentle hand against your lower back, making a sound that seems like he was trying to make words. His fingers twist against your bare skin before falling away again. 

You clutch the top sheet to yourself as you move out of bed to join Mark. A sound echoes around the cove that’s just barely out of sight, and you shiver, recognizing the sirens’ call that had slipped into your dreams. You feel sick. 

Mark turns to wrap his arms around you when you stand beside him. His cool lips touch your bare shoulder, and you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the nausea, trying to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Your ears still ring, and you can hear the sirens’ laughter now mixing with the singing. 

Blessedly, Mark closes the window and bundles you back towards the bed. 

“Am I awake?” You ask aloud. The question is banging against the inside of your mind, and if you hadn’t asked it aloud, it would drive you mad. Your dream had felt so real up until the moment it ended. How can you be certain that this is real?

You sit on the bed, folding your legs in front of you, and Mark sits down opposite you in a similar manner. Beside you, WinWin rolls over in the sheets, and when you look at him, he’s awake as well, watching you with his eyebrows furrowed together. Mark takes your hands, and quietly asks, “Are you okay?”

The answer is so clearly no. 

You’re still attempting to regulate your breathing. 

WinWin sits up, suddenly alert. “What’s wrong?”

“A bad dream. I’m being silly,” you say, although your heart is still racing, you still feel like throwing up, and you can’t help remembering the suffocating weight of the black water and the dizzying flashes of the siren fins around you. “It’s all just nerves.”

“Look at me,” WinWin demands, his voice dropping to a commanding rumble. His hand cups the back of your head. 

You turn your face towards him, and your eyes meet his. Bright and shiny with concern, his gaze searches yours. “Breathe with me,” he says, “Slowly, come on.”

You try to match your breathing with WinWin’s. You’d thought you were doing well, but apparently not. 

Mark still clings to both of your hands. His cool fingers stroke against the backs of your hands, and from the corner of your eye, you can see he’s concentrating on you. As happy, peaceful memories begin to infiltrate your spiraling thoughts, you realize that Mark is playing his mind games with you, which he hasn’t done for a long, long time. This time is for the better. Both he and WinWin are doing their best to bring you down from this heightened state. 

Outside the window, the sun continues to rise. While you look at WinWin and steady your breathing, while memories of happier times play out in your mind, you watch the golden light of sunrise stretching up the bedroom walls, the gentle warmth of it touches your skin. 

It works. The combined efforts calm you after several minutes, and by the time that you hear the others stirring and heading downstairs, you feel much better. The three of you descend to the kitchen for Ira’s informational discussion of the plan to finally break into Hell, to join in with the voices you can hear echoing up the stairs. 

Everyone is gathered around the long kitchen table. Ira is seated at the head of the table, his back to the fireplace. Renjun is seated directly on his right, holding a miniature court of his own with admirers. Mark’s coven-mate Haechan is seated beside Renjun, hanging on the elf’s every word, and across from Renjun is Minnie. The siren is also listening intently to Renjun, but she’s twirling her long hair around one finger and her eyes gleam with dark seduction. 

A ragged construction of seagrass and netting is all that covers the sirens to a state of semi-modesty. Minnie’s outfit seems to be some sort of a dress, her pale hair hangs free over the front of her. On her left sits Sunmi, her chest bound with fabric scraps, and you can see a hint of a grass skirt of some kind, but the magical way that her fingers move through her long red-orange hair is more mesmerizing as she wrangles it into a thick braid. 

Seulgi, the siren with navy scales and pitch black hair, sits between Sunmi and the strange shadow-man Johnny. Johnny looks different in the light of day. You can still see his shadows all huddled behind him, condensed and darker than the shadows of everyone else at the table, and if you look close enough you can see his shadows reaching out to climb up along Johnny’s back or stretching along the back of his chair towards Seulgi.

She seems oblivious to his shadows creeping towards her, but as you take a step closer to the table, aiming for the seat opposite your father at this end of the table, you watch one of Johnny’s shadow tendrils drape itself over Seulgi’s shoulder. She lifts a taloned fingernail to flick the tendril away. It vanishes, and Johnny flinches.

WinWin takes the seat on your left, Mark on your right. Jaehyun is seated beside WinWin, and between Jaehyun and Haechan sit Jaemin the half-demon and Jeno. Mark sits uncomfortably beside Johnny, glancing warily at the man’s multitudinous shadow.

“Now that we’re all here,” Ira says, his voice a commanding boom through the room, “Let us begin.”

Those that had been whispering amongst themselves fall silent. Johnny’s shadows grow still and draw in close to him. WinWin’s hand finds yours beneath the table.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Ira begins, “Initially, I thought that perhaps their return could be negotiated, brought about peacefully through diplomacy. All attempts at such have failed. Therefore, I’ve assembled all of you here together as a team, each of you possessing skills or knowledge that I believe will be helpful going forward. This is a meeting for us to plot to recover the two demon lovers of my daughter from Hell against the wishes of the Queen of the Night.”

Ira stands, and with a wave of his hand, the table is suddenly covered with loose papers, dense tomes, unbound scrolls, sketches and maps, even a few stone and clay tablets. “We will treat today as a brainstorming session. I have ideas, but I have spent no time in the kingdom of Hell, so I’m not certain how well my plans will truly play out. That is why I have collected these documents and you, Jaemin and Jeno, in order to better conceive a pathway to success. The pair of you have real experience in Hell, and these gathered texts are accounts of those who have been to the underworld and returned, mortals with stories – Dante, Orpheus, Phra Malai, an emperor, heroes in history, all sorts of stories. Their perceptions are ancient and probably skewed by bias, and that is where you come in, Jaemin and Jeno.”

The half demon nods, reaching for one of the sketches in front of him. “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you.” His fingers trace the lines of ink carefully. Beside him, Jeno nods. 

“Good,” Ira says, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s begin.” 

<-previous || next–>

a/n: It's been over a year in the making, but this is the first of the final four chapters of Unholy! I'm so excited to finally share the ending of this series with you. I know it's been a very, very long wait, so to everyone that's been holding on for me thank you so much!

Chapter Eighteen will be uploaded next Sunday 07/07.

As always, comments, reblogs, messages, your thoughts in the tags, whatever you choose will always be appreciated! Thanks 💗

[emotionalsupportgoblin420]

Unexpected Pregnancy headcanons.

Headcanons on how these guys would react to finding out their s/o in pregnant, comforting their anxious s/o, and just overall pregnancy headcanons. Enjoy <3

Kelby, Myx, Ichiban, and Logan

Kelby

Is absolutely flooded with emotions.

Happiness, excitement, anxiety, shock, etc.

Let's be honest. He's mostly excited to have a lil version of the two of you running around.

His focus changes when he sees that you're overcome with anxiety.

Immediately, his first instinct is to hold you and tell you everything's gonna be alright.

"Hey, it's okay. I know this wasn't planned, but it's all gonna be okay. We're a team, and we can get through this together."

He's honestly the best at calming you down.

And making you laugh as he lists off all the fun things he plans to do with this kid.

"We can play sports together, I can take them to ballgames, this is gonna be awesome!"

His positive vibes are so helpful throughout the whole thing.

But he's absolutely clueless when it comes to pregnancy and what to do.

He's trying his best tho.

Man is a real team player and always ready to try his best and help out.

He's a good listener too, which is great when you're feeling nervous and need to vent a bit.

He heard somewhere that being active during pregnancy is good, so he definitely encourages you to stay as active as possible.

Loves to buy those baby sports outfits.

He thinks it's the cutest thing ever.

Tries to read those Parenting for Dummies books, but he can't understand them one bit.

Is definitely nervous about being a dad and is worried he won't do a good job at it.

Tries his best to keep a game face on, but sometimes it does show, and you notice.

Doesn't take too much prodding on the subject for him to admit it.

Being able to vent to you and some encouragement really helps him out.

My guy has more rebound than a kickball, so it doesn't take much to put him in a good mood.

Laughs every time the baby kicks.

"Looks like they're just as athletic as their dad."

Will often just lovingly stare at your ever-growing belly whenever you guys cuddle.

He's so excited to meet this little mini version of you both.

Myx

His life flashes before his eyes as soon as he sees that positive test.

A million thoughts are rushing through his head.

He's absolutely shocked but so happy.

He's always wanted to be a dad.

Once he comes to and notices his anxious s/o, he immediately holds them so tight.

"It's alright. I'm right here. This is great! We're gonna be parents! We've always wanted this! And I'm right here with you through it all."

His positivity really helps.

If it were up to him, he would've shouted the good news from the rooftops right then and there.

But you convinced him to leave it a surprise a little longer, just in case something went wrong.

He hated not being able to tell anyone.

As soon as you gave him the go-ahead, he told the whole world you were pregnant.

He's positivity really helped throughout the pregnancy.

He was always there for you.

Morning sickness, cravings, emotional meltdowns, he was always there for you.

He's really handy when it comes to setting up the nursery.

Hasn't a clue how to build a crib, but somehow manages to do it even though he threw away the instructions ages ago.

"Pfft! I don't need instructions. I'll just Myx things up a bit!"

And he adds plenty of his creativity to the space.

Loves to sing songs to your unborn child.

Gets excited every time he feels a kick.

Sing songs to the little baby in you belly.

Whilst he is definitely excited to be a father, there is a part of him that is nerve as hell.

Reads all the books and articles on how to be a dad.

Tries to keep it cool around you, but you can see right through him.

You remind him that you two are a team, and he doesn't have to deal with anything alone.

"Thanks, babe. I actually really needed to hear that."

Has to kiss your every growing belly every time he passes by.

100% wants the gender of the baby to be a surprise.

Buys the goofiest baby clothes ever.

Especially if it has dinosaurs on it saying, "Dinosaurs are so cool!"

I mean, he ain't wrong lol

This man supports you so much, and you know he'll make a great dad.

Ichiban

Live Ichiban reaction to finding out you're pregnant:

Just stands there, jaw on the floor for a straight-up minute.

He's happy ofc but very much in shock.

Until he sees you, how anxious you are about the whole thing.

He immediately snaps out of it and pulls you in for a comforting hug as he strokes your head gently.

"Shhh. It's okay. It's all gonna be okay."

As you calm down, he pulls away just enough so he can give you a kiss.

"See? Told you it'd be okay." He says in a playful tone.

You can't help but laugh.

"And I'm going to be a dad! Can you believe it? I couldn't be happier about this! This is better than when I hit a million subscribers!"

He's such a goofball.

Becomes very informed on pregnancy and what to expect thanks to videos and online resources.

100% accidentally let the big news slip during a live stream.

He's just so excited he couldn't help it lol.

Is so supportive and super cuddly.

He's basically at your beckoned call.

Kisses your baby bump every chance he gets.

Always keeps his followers updated on how things are going (unless it makes you uncomfortable ofc)

Does a gender reveal live stream with you.

Definitely has days where he's a nervous wreck about the idea of being a dad.

And he sucks at hiding it.

Fesses up as soon as you ask him about it.

Poor guy just needs some cuddles, a shoulder to cry on, and words of encouragement.

He cheers up pretty quick.

But he isn't ready to stop cuddling yet lol.

He's such a big softy and will make a grrrreat dad.

Logan

Is absolutely ecstatic about being a dad.

Can't wait to tell his crew!

All those thoughts fade into the background when he sees that you are an anxious wreck.

Similar procedure to Ichiban: Pull you in for a comforting hug and give you words of affirmation.

"Hey, it's okay, babe. It's all gonna be alright. I promise. I'm right here to support you."

Gives you plenty of kisses once you calm down.

He's got all this happiness. What else is he supposed to do with it lol

His excitement is a bit infectious, you have to admit.

This guy is a man with a plan.

Reads all the books and articles on how pregnancy and how to be a dad.

Is probably the least worried about whether or not he'll make a good dad.

And any concerns he has, he's pretty open about them.

Vows to support you as much as he possibly can.

He's got child-safety measures for most everything.

But not in an overbearing way.

Buys the cutest baby clothes.

Loves to carry you around.

Has full-on conversations with the baby in your belly.

His face when he felt the baby kick for the first time was priceless.

He just sat there for a second with the biggest "Holy sh*t" face you'd ever seen.

Once his brain processed what had just happened, he got so excited.

"Did you feel that?! They just kicked! Our baby just kicked! Omg!"

You can't help but laugh.

He's such a sweet guy lol

Still gets a little excited every time he feels a kick.

He's got the makings of an amazing dad.

[pepsiboyy]

HEARTSTRINGS. - p5

p4 ⚜ masterlist ⚜ p6

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him. warnings: use of y/n lol, cursing, fluff a/n: HIIII sorry for the wait!!! ive been adding to this chapter as time goes on and this is the final product because i know yall have been waiting for it <3 love you guys so much thanks for the support!!!

"i got us a show!" nathan exclaimed, his eyes just as wide as his smile as he gripped a piece of paper, waving it in front of him.

i clasped my hands together in excitement, and smiled brightly. "yes!! where?"

"soundwave lounge!" nathan smiled warmly as he handed the paper to chris, who held it out for ben to see as well.

everyone had such a bright smile.

i smiled as i watched chris's excitement run through him.

"i think we're good to go, we just need a vocalist," chris mumbled, as everyone slowly averted their gaze towards me.

i blinked a few times as i chuckled nervously. "me?" i choked out.

"yeah, you'd be great!" nathan happily wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in and looking towards chris and ben with a wide smile.

i stared at chris for a moment, who gave me a reassuring smile, before i spoke up. "fine, maybe."

chris and i had been seeing each other for about a week and a half now. he would often spend the night with nathan, who would fall asleep quickly, prompting chris to come to my room and spend time with me.

it was nice, having him around. i found out that the two of us have a lot more in common than i ever could have guessed.

we decided to keep it a secret from nathan and our other bandmate, ben, for the sake of keeping things private. that, and we had no idea how nathan would react.

"whatcha thinkin' about?" chris's voice rang softly, ripping me from my thoughts as he ran a hand through my hair softly.

i smiled softly at him as i shrugged and sighed. "i can't believe you guys want me as a vocalist." i whispered. "i feel like i can hardly sing."

"i'm sure you're great.. don't ever put yourself down." chris immediately reassured, his eyes fixated on me. he hated when i got into self-deprecating moods. which was often.

i sighed and nodded. "would i be singing the lyrics that you've been working on?" i asked softly, looking at chris as he shot me a quick shrug.

"probably. i don't really know. we can figure it out." he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he sighed and sat up. "it's goin' on three o'clock. i should probably go lay down." he whispered.

i nodded softly as i shot him a quick smile. "sleep well, 'kay?"

chris stood to his feet and stood up, sending me a quick nod and a wave. "you too."

and just as he got to the door, he swung back around on his heel and quickly made his way over to plant a kiss to my forehead.

i reached up to press my hand to the back of his neck, pulling his lips against mine.

as he pulled away, i shot him a smile.

and then he left quietly.

my eyes peeled open at the abrupt sound of drums slamming against one another downstairs.

i rubbed my eyes and slowly rose from my bed, my hair in every possible direction. i didn't care though. what i cared about was the drums playing at fucking 10am.

"what the hell are you guys doing?" i stated loudly, but nothing was loud with the sound of them playing. i stepped a bit closer, where chris finally seemed to notice my presence and stopped playing.

before anyone could notice, he shot me a soft smile.

"oh hey, y/n," nathan stated, his body leaning over to set down the drumsticks.

"why are you guys playing so goddamn early?" i stated firmly, rubbing my eyes.

"we have to practice for our show. it's tomorrow!" nathan stated with a wide smile, making my jaw drop.

"tomorrow!? i was thinking like a week or something?" i sighed as i moved to sit between nathan and chris.

"same here, but most we can do is practice to the best of our ability." ben stated, his eyes averting to the side.

everyone seemed to share a glance. he was being unusual.

"right. well. i'm gonna run inside and get a drink. can i get you guys anything?" i asked softly.

they all shook their heads, except for chris, who begged for a pepsi.

i chuckled and nodded, making my way quickly to the kitchen to go ahead and grab chris and i both a pepsi.

the trip was quick. i tip-toed back into the garage as i wasn't wearing any shoes. "here ya go."

chris smiled warmly at me.

the way his eyes creased as he smiled, the way his teeth poked from his mouth as he bit onto his bottom lip softly and his cheeks grew a soft shade of pink. his hair slightly damp from playing in the warmth of the garage. god, he was stunning. his hand gently grazed mine as he took the pepsi, shooting shocks through my skin.

"thanks," chris stated softly, before turning back to his guitar.

i blinked a few times before i made my way over to my chair again and allowed my eyes to look over everyone, ben's eyes locked on chris.

a few hours had gone by. ben had left, and chris, of course, was spending the night.

his fingers gently grazed the guitar strings as he hummed to himself and played, his eyes glued to his own hand.

he was sitting at the edge of the bed playing quietly and occasionally glancing at me with a soft smile, where i couldn't help but sit and admire him from where i was. "how long have you been playing guitar?" i spoke up, sitting up slightly.

"mmm. since like junior high. i dabbled and got more interested as time went on." he smiled at the thought as he remembered playing a lot more back in high school.

i nodded as i listened and hummed softly. "you're really good."

"thanks."

"mhm."

we sat in silence for a few moments before chris moved to set the guitar down. carefully, he crawled towards me and rested his head against my chest, his body between my legs.

"i hope that once the stress dies down, we can tell your brother about us." he stated softly.

a warm smile appeared on my lips as i nodded softly and sighed contently as i moved a hand to brush through his curly, brunette locks. "i agree."

"i like you a lot." chris admitted softly.

i couldn't see his face from the position we were in, but i could see his ears growing red. i chuckled softly as i wrapped my arms gently around his head and pulled him infinitely closer to me. "i like you too."

we sat in a comfortable silence, my eyes locked on the ceiling with a soft smile until i felt chris's breathing slow to a rhythmic, peaceful pace. i smiled to myself as i continued to caress his hair gently.

and for a few hours, i let him sleep there in my arms.

nathan's tongue stuck out from between his lips in focus as he set up his drumset on the stage.

i, on the other hand, stood awkwardly. "can i help at all?"

"i think we got it," nathan would quickly reply.

the guys were setting up for their show today. they had practiced a lot yesterday and a bit before they began packing things up today.

my eyes couldn't leave chris. he looked great today. like every day. damn.

one of the managers of the event they were performing at stepped onto the stage, eyes glued to a watch on his wrist. "alright guys, doors open in fifteen. we lookin' good?"

everyone shot up, their eyes looking at the man before exchanging glances and nodding. "yeah, we should be good in just a few minutes," ben stated.

i shifted to move backstage. nathan ran off to the restroom with chris, and.. i'm not really sure where ben went.

"hey, y/n?"

i turned my head to the side and met eyes with the bassist, blinking a few times. "oh, hey ben. are you pumped for your show?"

he gave me a half smile before he stepped closer to me.

"hey, i really wanted to talk with you about something."

i looked at ben for a moment and swallowed. i nodded softly. please don't ask me for life advice. not really my thing.

"look, i think i really like you, i think you're gorgeous and-"

what the fuck?

my eyes widened as i attempted to regain composure. "ben, i don't think-"

"i'd really like to take you on a date. i know your brother is my friend and stuff, but-"

i lifted my hands to hold in front of me in defense as i felt my stomach turn. "ben, i don't-"

"would you consider?" he stated softly.

we sat in silence as i stared at him.

well this is awkward.

"i don't... really feel the same way."

i watched ben's shoulders slump.

"sorry." i quickly apologized. "i- uhh. you'll do great tonight-" i stated quickly before retreating to nathan and chris who had just returned from the restroom.

chris furrowed his eyebrows at me as i literally walked right behind him and stood there. he could tell something had happened, but decided to ask me later.

nathan, on the other hand, was so pumped.

"guys, we're gonna destroy this tonight!!" he stated quickly, giving everyone a fist bump. "y/n, cheer so hard from over here!" he smiled widely, and i nodded eagerly.

"i will, don't worry!"

as a few minutes went by, the boys got called to get ready to get on stage.

i wished them luck, and bit my lip as i watched them step out, some cheers heard from outside to hype them up.

what the hell just happened??

p4 ⚜ masterlist ⚜ p6

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker @nickgetsmewetter @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @chrissgirlsstuff @nsjsnshey @sturniolosarethebest @sofie-1 @sturniololol @veysxrge @587528382527 @sturniolostars @larnieboox88 @eliana-4200 @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolostars @chrisgetsmewet @55sturn

[eliteseven]

BG3 Drabble: Parenthood?

Pairing: (named)F!Tav x Shadowheart

Summary: Yenna's presence in camp causes Shadowheart to contemplate something that was unthinkable during her time serving Shar.

Words: 4.5k

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

There’s a sort of stirring from outside Shadowheart and Tav’s shared tent, slowly warming in the rays of the dawn’s first light. Shadowheart’s ear perks to the sound, as does her lover’s- and she shifts in the bedroll, her lips once again finding purchase in the crook of Tav’s neck. 

“Probably Scratch.” Serena concedes rather sleepily, arms wound tightly around Shadowheart’s hips, as if she fears she might disappear in the dead of night. 

“...Probably.” Shadowheart mumbles in agreement, the movement of her lips against the nape of Tav’s neck tickling her lover momentarily. 

She traces a lazy finger in the dip of Serena’s chest, drawing a soft whine of pleasure from her lover. 

Then, a new voice joins the fold. 

“...Are you awake yet?” A fiery, bright, reddish-orange head of hair pops through the tent flaps, and both Serena and Shadowheart startle, their foreheads colliding with a slam as they jump apart. 

“Oh, hells.” Shadowheart groans and clutches her head, and Serena winces as she gently peels herself from their tangled embrace. 

They’re lucky they had the common sense to dress themselves, after several intimate moments that took place in the night, fueled by wine and the privacy of their tent, shrouded in a spell of darkness, courtesy of Shadowheart. 

Serena reacts first. Owlishly, she blinks a few times, and regards their intruder with a little smile. 

Serena can’t help it. 

There is something endearing about the exuberant little girl, who offers to cook for them, and plays with Scratch, while she patiently awaits the return of her mother…

…A mother who might well be wiped from this very existence. 

Serena pushes those thoughts from her mind; they will find Yenna’s mother alive. 

“Good morning, Yenna.” Serena greets softly. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Hello, Tav!” Yenna gives her a gap-toothed grin, the very image of childish joy, and Serena chuckles softly. “Grub and I had the best sleep ever!” 

Lae’zel had remarked she’d start to lose respect around camp if she let a child call her by her nickname.

Serena can’t be bothered to care; she, too, was once a wide-eyed and eager child, so taken by the life of adventuring, of excitement. She’d much rather be a friend to a little girl who’s mother is missing, rather than an intimidating source of authority.

She’s had enough of that word for a lifetime. 

“Well, that’s very good. Cooking a spot of breakfast, are we?” Serena eyes the wooden spoon in her hand. 

“Well, yes, but I can’t find the ingredients I need.” Yenna explains, sounding suddenly downtrodden. “And I know how to make the best stew!” 

Serena nods, and then thinks for a moment. “...What if I took you to the city? I’m certain the vendors there would have everything you’d need.” 

Yenna wears a look of euphoria. “The city?!” She squeals, and vaguely, they hear Astarion curse her youthful glee, loud as it is at such an hour. 

Shadowheart whines softly under the cover of the furs, and Serena winces, remembering the three or four chalices of wine they’d shared. 

“Yes.” Serena whispers, gesturing for Yenna to keep her voice down. “We can go together. But you have to remember, everyone is sleeping, Yenna. We have to be quiet, until we leave-” 

“Got it!” Yenna’s whisper is nearly as loud as her shout, and Serena grins as she darts away to ready herself for their impromptu trip. 

Serena turns to find her lover observing her from the bedroll, head propped up on her elbow. 

Her lungs constrict; there will never be a moment in which she sees Shadowheart in her bedroll and won’t have a near heart-attack. 

She is that beautiful, of course, but more than that: she’s here. With Serena. In her bedroll. Where she sleeps, nightly. 

Simple facts such as these often matter very little to established couples; Serena thinks it’s nothing short of a travesty. 

Though their relationship is new- in the sense that Shadowheart has only recently admitted the full extent of her love for Serena- Serena knows she could never simply get used to the fact that Shadowheart is hers, as she is Shadowheart’s..

Shadowheart is smirking at her, just short of rolling her eyes, and Serena adores the expression, still. She’s long made peace with the fact that her love for Shadowheart is all-consuming; she’s learned to love her pouts, her smirks, the way she manages to make her very expressions drip with sarcasm. It’s uniquely her, and Serena would not trade her for any soul in all of Faerûn, ever. 

“What?” Serena asks sheepishly, brushing a stray hair from her eyes. 

“Nothing.” Shadowheart shrugs, but her eyes devour Tav as she does so. 

It’s clear she’s amused by something.

“It’s just…” Shadowheart drawls. “You’re very good with her.” 

Serena shrugs. “There’s nothing to it, really. She’s a child. A very mild-mannered one, at that.” She smiles wistfully, remembering her own days, scabbing her knees and trying to sneak past her own estate guards. 

“Nevertheless.” Shadowheart is smiling, now- a genuine smile. Soft and alluring, Serena blinks a few times, forgetting to breathe. “I find it… sweet.” 

“Sweet enough that you’d like to join us?” Serena tries. 

“Hah.” Shadowheart laughs, reclining backwards into the bedroll, nestled in the warmth. “ At this hour? I should think not.” 

Serena sighs, and she smiles against Shadowheart’s forehead when she presses a kiss there, apologizing for their bump, earlier. 

Shadowheart tugs her down for a kiss, and Serena moans softly, forgetting herself entirely as she almost melts into Shadowheart. 

Shadowheart pulls away, and laughs quietly at the dumbstruck expression on Serena’s face. 

It will never get old for Shadowheart, watching her lover seem to forget time and space, in favor of her lips instead. 

“Go on, then.” Shadowheart drawls in a whisper. “You made a promise.” 

“Did I?” Serena mumbles, touching her own lips with an awestruck look, and Shadowheart chuckles softly at the sight of her handiwork, before letting her go. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Screams of delight fill the air, as Karlach lunges for Yenna, who dives to take cover behind Serena’s legs. 

Their training session has been cut short by the presence of the curious little girl, and Karlach and Serena are, perhaps, the only two in camp who haven’t the heart to deny her anything. 

So they spend their afternoon, the one they should have spent recovering for their next battle, playing like children.

And Shadowheart has spent the better part of her afternoon watching. 

In truth, she’s captivated by several of the sights she sees: the first of which being Serena. 

Serena has a heart of gold: it’s likely the reason she hasn’t abandoned Shadowheart altogether, and furthermore- it’s one of Shadowheart’s favorite qualities of Serena’s. 

Serena has told Shadowheart many a tale from her childhood; she was often at odds with the authority figures in her life, for constantly disobeying the particularly strict set of rules she was to abide by. 

Serena grins as Yenna dives for her arms, now laughing as Karlach plays the role of the villain- frankly, the sweetest villain Shadowheart has ever seen. 

The three of them seem nothing more than a rowdy group of children, rather than a rescued child, and a couple of harrowed soldiers. 

Shadowheart watches from the bench outside her own tent- and though she holds a novel in her hands- a recommendation from Wyll, no less- she can’t seem to read it for the life of her. Every time Serena laughs, melodic and beautiful, Shadowheart looks up at her, and falls in love with her more with each passing second. 

There is a specific, unbridled joy Serena seems to display, in the presence of children. 

Shadowheart had noted it before, several times over on their journey- the first time being with the Tiefling children by the Druid’s Grove. 

Shadowheart hadn’t known then what she knows now- about Serena, herself, any of it. 

But she finds the same persistent warmth, fluttering in her chest at the notion of perhaps involving herself with Serena, in this way. 

“I know that look.” A voice clears their throat behind her and then speaks, nearly startling Shadowheart from her love-addled reverie. 

Shadowheart closes her book, setting it on her lap as she glances up at Jaheira quizzically. 

“...And what look might that be?” Shadowheart humors her with a sigh. 

“You wish to be a mother.” Jaheira does not ask it- perhaps if she had, it might have been slightly less shocking. 

“I…you…sorry?” Shadowheart sputters, in a manner most uncharacteristic for the usually unruffled cleric. Her words carry none of the elegant, biting attitude with which she’s normally able to convey her words. 

Jaheira smirks knowingly. “Don’t worry, Shadowheart. Your secret is safe with me.” She glances over at Serena, who dances around Karlach’s extra-slow “attacks” with Yenna standing atop her boots, movements expertly guided by Serena. 

“...I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to.” Shadowheart sniffs, regaining her composure. 

“Surely you don’t.” Jaheira snorts. “Tell me, how is your novel?” She glances at the cover. “The Wanton Warrior, eh?” 

Shadowheart rolls her eyes. “Riveting.” she grits. 

“Oh? I’ve read it myself.” Jaheira’s eyes narrow. “The Commander is quite the character, is she not?” 

Shadowheart sees the trap before Jaheira even finishes laying it. “Not a real character in the novel, I presume? Fine. I’ve barely read a word. Happy?” 

Jaheira scoffs. “So very bright. I should have known better.” She acknowledges with a little smile. She sobers, glancing at Yenna. “It is not something to carry shame over….wanting children, I mean.” She clarifies. 

Shadowheart’s cheeks burn as a blush slowly breaks out across her features. “It’s not…i don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting children.” She corrects softly. “Just…not me.” She whispers the last part, and Jaheira nods, for a moment. 

“I…thought the same, once.” Jaheira begins. 

Shadowheart knows Jaheira speaks from experience- with at least five foster children in her care at one point, Jaheira has known the trials and tribulations of guardianship. 

“I wouldn’t…” Shadowheart stammers. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” She says nothing of her struggles in the cloister, of her tainted relationship to Viconia and other figures of authority, or of her fractured relationship with her own parents. 

Until several tendays prior, the notion of Shadowheart ever being a guardian, let alone a mother, to a child, was unthinkable. 

And now? Suddenly there’s a little girl in their camp, and she’s forsaking principles she’s held for the entirety of her life? 

No- that isn’t entirely fair, or truthful. 

Serena is making her rethink everything. 

Shadowheart sees a partner in Serena- a partner she never could have imagined. Serena makes even the most daunting tasks seem achievable. Serena was there with her when she turned her back on Shar, and Serena helped her lead the charge into the cloister to save her parents. 

With Serena…Shadowheart finds that she wouldn’t hate the idea, quite so much as she thought she did. 

And that terrifies her. 

It is the sound of crying that draws Shadowheart’s attention, and she’s up from her seat before she can even make sense of what’s happening. Serena cradles Yenna, scooping her up as if she weighs nothing at all, and she and Karlach coo softly to her. 

It’s when Serena turns towards her that Shadowheart sees it- a scrape, barely there, nothing but a little red mark on the child’s knee. 

“It’s alright.” Serena coos, as she brushes Yenna’s tears away. “I happen to know someone who can make everything better.” She promises sweetly. 

Shadowheart watches the way Serena effortlessly supports Yenna’s weight while distracting her, and realizes with a jolt, Serena is coming to her. 

“Y…you..do?” Yenna sniffles. 

“I do.” Serena promises with a little smile. “I couldn’t live without her.” She tells her so casually, though the words make Shadowheart’s chest ache with fondness. 

Serena nods to Shadowheart’s tent, and Shadowheart gets the message, politely excusing herself from Jaheira’s watch as she guides them back to her tent.  

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It is remarkable how quickly children stop crying when they’re distracted, Shadowheart notes, with no shortage of amusement. 

Yenna has seated herself comfortably atop Shadowheart’s bedroll- which, to be fair, goes unused nearly every night, since Shadowheart has essentially moved into Serena’s tent. 

Yenna busies herself with touching some of Shadowheart’s belongings curiously- several books, a few plants, whatever she seems to be able to get her hands on. 

And then, of course, comes the lovely, “What’s this?” from her lips, nearly every five seconds. 

Serena watches with amusement as Shadowheart opens her mouth to explain, but is interrupted every time. 

“What’s this?” 

“That’s just a watering can-”

“And this?” 

“That would be one of my fa-” 

“Oh, what’s this?” Yenna asks, holding a book up from the pile. “The Salty-” 

Shadowheart’s eyebrows are in her hairline as she shoots Serena a mortified glance, and Serena gracefully plucks the book from Yenna’s grasp. 

“You’ll want to pay attention to her healing magic.” Serena winks at Yenna, slyly sliding the book beneath the furs, out of sight. 

Her gaze dances with amusement, and Shadowheart offers her a little smile, shaking her head at the narrow miss. 

“Magic?” Yenna repeats, eyes wide with awe. “You can do that?” She asks, and she seems to be seeing Shadowheart in a new light. 

Shadowheart laughs softly, unsure of what to do with the admiration. “Yes. I need you to be still, could you do that for me?” She asks sweetly, and Yenna nods, all too eager. She nearly shoves her knee in Shadowheart’s chin, practically vibrating with excitement. 

Shadowheart exchanges a wide-eyed glance with Serena, who smiles back at her from where she sits beside Yenna, resting her chin atop her knees. 

“Still, Yenna.” Serena reminds with a little chuckle, and Yenna’s bouncing ceases. 

When Shadowheart goes to work, Yenna seems to think she’s met a goddess. She watches, gaping all the while, as Shadowheart’s glowing palm does away with the benign scrape atop her knee, closing the skin until it looks seamless. 

Yenna glances up at her, eyes wider than Serena has ever seen them. 

“...Better?” Shadowheart asks softly, and Yenna throws herself at Shadowheart, hugging her by looping her short arms around Shadowheart’s neck and shoulders. 

“Thank you, thank you!” Yenna cheers, despite the fact that it took almost nothing from Shadowheart. 

Shadowheart stills, stunned into silence for a moment, as the little girl hugs her, thanking her profusely. 

It is Serena’s warm gaze over Yenna’s shoulder that brings her back; Shadowheart realizes she likes this feeling, radiating from her heart to the rest of her body. 

She likes being a healer, a protector,...a parent, even. 

“I…it was nothing.” Shadowheart murmurs, but she does give Yenna a little hug in return, and that seems to quell the child’s need for affection. 

“...Can I go back to playing with Karlach?” Yenna turns to ask them both. 

It is a strange feeling, Shadowheart realizes- she and Serena seem to share custody of Yenna, for all intents and purposes. Of course, Shadowheart operates under no delusion of making this permanent; Yenna’s mother needs their help. 

But the fact that she doesn’t seem to mind, is what suddenly takes her breath away. 

Serena nods, and Yenna excuses herself with a last, grateful show of appreciation before practically skipping away. 

Serena glances back to her lover, eyeing her carefully, drinking her expression in. 

She looks as if she wants to say something, and for Shadowheart’s sake, she bites her tongue, knowing all-too-well how intense her feelings can be for Shadowheart. 

“Thank you.” Serena offers quietly, instead. 

Her eyes give her away; they’re nearly wet with emotion. Shadowheart recognizes it instantly; it’s the same awe Yenna had in her eyes when Shadowheart healed her, only…

Love.

Serena’s gaze is thick with adoration. 

“It was no trouble.” Shadowheart reminds her gently. 

“...You don’t know how good you are.” Serena whispers, and the way she says it- the tears that gather in her eyes- tell Shadowheart how she means it. “We are all so lucky- me, more than anyone, to have you…” 

Serena is incredibly gifted at making Shadowheart ache in the most beautiful ways. 

Shadowheart knows what’s left unspoken- knows the implications of Serena’s words. 

They could have a family together, if they survive this. 

“I am the lucky one.” Shadowheart promises in just a whisper as she gently pushes Serena backwards onto the bedroll, climbing atop her. 

Serena hisses as her back meets the furs, and Shadowheart freezes, eyes wide with concern. 

“You’re hurt?” Shadowheart demands, already reaching to undo Serena’s shirt to get a better look. 

“Mmm.” Serena groans in response, and pulls the copy of the Salty Mermaid from underneath the furs, the hard corner of the book having dug into Serena’s hip. 

Shadowheart snorts a laugh, shoulders dropping in relief, and Serena grins, gently tossing the book aside. “Too close, that.” 

Perhaps, Shadowheart muses, in the future, they’ll invest in a library for their home with a locked section. 

Or at least a section that’s out of reach of most children, anyway. 

This time, Shadowheart remembers to properly seal the tent flaps. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dusk paints the camp in lovely hues of pink and orange, and then eventually red, as the sun’s rays begin to filter out of the sky, one by one. 

In the heart of camp, there is a bustle around the fire, where a particularly talked about stew is finally being served to all. 

“Is it good?” Yenna asks hopefully, as she offers Arnell yet another helping of stew. “I tried really really hard! And Grub says it’s my best stew yet!” 

“I have no reason to believe otherwise.” Arnell nods sagely as he holds his bowl up in celebration. “Truly a delicacy.” He smiles kindly at the little girl as she moves onto the next recipient around the fire, bowls at the ready. 

Shadowheart has to give Yenna credit; it is a delicious stew. 

When Serena had returned from the city traders with Yenna, carrying a whole surplus of produce, Shadowheart was more than amused. 

It seems that Serena’s investments have paid dividends, now, as everyone gathers to enjoy the meal. 

“Delicious.” Emmeline chuckles, after a bite. “Of course Jen’s daughter can cook. She comes from me, after all.” 

Shadowheart stills, mid-bite, as she exchanges a wide-eyed glance with her father. 

Arnell winces slightly; it’s never easy, hearing Emmeline flit in and out of the reality her mind seems to create for itself in its atrophy. 

She has better days, mostly, but every now and again she’ll make a comment that reminds Shadowheart she’s not all there. 

Only this time, she’s managed to say just the thing that’s terrified Shadowheart all week. 

Shadowheart opens her mouth to correct her, and thinks better of it. Within a few moments, her mother will have forgotten she’s said anything at all. 

Best not to further confuse her by trying to set the record straight. 

Still, the words linger in Shadowheart’s mind.

Jen’s daughter. 

Shadowheart glances at Serena, who helps Yenna serve, knowing all too well the little girl’s tendency to spill- and wanting to prevent as much with something as scalding as stew. 

Shadowheart feels the all-too-familiar butterflies in her chest, just glancing at her. 

It hasn’t been an easy tenday- and that’s not even considering the fighting they’ve done to get into the city. In fact, it hasn’t been an easy journey, in totality. 

Shadowheart cannot deny the truth any longer; she’s changing. As the life she thought she’d lead bleeds away into the past, she finds her sights set firmly on the future; on one individual in particular. 

When Serena finally manages to get Yenna seated with her own bowl of food- as intent as she is on serving others- Shadowheart beckons her away from the group with a little nod of her head. 

Shadowheart’s very heart constricts when Serena follows instantly, without a glance behind her. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is actually quite good.” Serena notes after a spoon of the stew, legs dangling over the slight cliff-face she and Shadowheart sit atop. 

Although there’s no waterfall this time, and no vintage bottle of wine to be shared as they did on their first evening together in solitude, it is equally as romantic. 

Shadowheart glances at her in amusement, stealing a piece of bread from the corner of Serena’s bowl. “You had doubts?” She asks curiously, popping the bread into her mouth delicately. 

“Could you cook a stew at Yenna’s age?” Serena scoffs. “In truth, I had my concerns that she’d burn the camp down.” 

“And yet, you took her to get ingredients.” Shadowheart notes, smiling but politely declining when Serena offers the rest of her food, earnestly. 

“It made her happy.” Serena explains. “She misses her mother, Heart.” 

Shadowheart frowns at the reminder. “I know…” She murmurs, glancing down past the smoke billowing from atop the campfire, to her own mother and father. 

They seem to be amused by the presence of the child, and they entertain her with stories as they eat around the fire. A safe distance away, Shadowheart is safe to peer at them without fear of being caught. 

Serena follows her gaze, and frowns, slightly. “What’s the matter?” 

She reads Shadowheart easily; like the way Shadowheart devours one of Wyll’s book recommendations. 

“Honestly?” Shadowheart laughs, a little sadly. “...I don’t know.” 

Serena nods slowly, giving Shadowheart a chance to elaborate. If there’s one talent Serena possesses, it is to listen without judgement. Shadowheart has always secretly envied her, in this regard. 

The moment passes, and Shadowheart finds the will to continue. 

“I…Yenna’s presence in camp…I think it…brought to surface some feelings that I’ve buried deep within me.” She admits, slowly. 

Serena tries to follow her logic. “Does Yenna’s presence here make you uncomfortable?” She asks, again, without judgement. 

Shadowheart wants to laugh. Only Serena would try to play the knight-in-shining-armor between her and a child, if Shadowheart asked it of her. 

“Gods, no.” Shadowheart scoffs and whispers, shaking her head. “It’s not her.” She clarifies, gently. “It’s me.” She adds, a little sadly. 

Serena sets her bowl aside, taking Shadowheart’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, gently tilting her downcast gaze upwards. 

Shadowheart breathes raggedly, but she meets Serena’s gaze, inquisitive and ever so loving, in the moon’s light. 

The moondrop pendant around Shadowheart’s neck, gifted to her by Serena herself, pulses with light as Shadowheart’s heart hammers against her ribcage. 

“I think…” Shadowheart inhales sharply, gathers herself, and tries again. “...I want…to be a mother someday. To your child.” 

The words come out of Shadowheart before she can stop herself. 

In fact- it’s not what she meant to discuss- she’d intended to tell Serena about her mother’s verbal mishap, about what led up to this sudden outpouring of emotion- but she says the first thing that comes to her mind. 

The truth, in essence. 

Shadowheart doesn’t know what she was expecting. 

Serena smiles. 

It’s one of her rare, extra-elated smiles- the very kind that renders Shadowheart unable to breathe, when she sees it. 

There is no shock, no questioning her logic, her qualifications. Serena does not ask her why she thinks she’s fit to be a mother, or if life in the cloister damaged her irreparably. 

No, Serena simply cries tears of joy, and cradles her face as if it’s the most precious possession she’s ever held, fragile and liable to break at any moment. 

Shadowheart can feel her lover’s happiness, in waves. 

She had no idea Serena felt so strongly about the idea at all; she really needs to be more vocal about her concerns, her fears; so many of them are unfounded. 

“...Once we win this…and we will win….” Shadowheart continues, kissing away the tears on Serena’s high cheekbones. “...There’ll be time to think about all of this, I know…” Shadowheart explains. “But I…this last tenday…I realized I didn’t hate the idea of becoming a mother…” Shadowheart whispers. “I…hated the idea that I’d fail.” 

Shadowheart knows how outlandish it is to even consider such a possibility with so much on their collective plate, but the truth is, she’s new to the idea. 

Under Shar, Shadowheart had long accepted that her fate was to serve, and that she’d never have a family of her own, outside of the cloister. 

The idea that she can, now…it’s so terrifyingly freeing.

And it’s not as if Shadowheart needs a child right this instant, but just to be able to consider the possibility…it’s a privilege. 

“You won’t fail.” Serena promises solemnly. 

“You sound so certain.” Shadowheart challenges sadly. 

“You could never fail.” Serena promises again, so tenderly and passionately that Shadowheart has no choice but to heed her words. “Shadowheart, Shar couldn’t even make you bad.” Serena laughs when she says it, almost to the point of hysteria, but Shadowheart knows she’s speaking from the heart. 

“That’s not-” 

“It is.” Serena presses. “Shar, Viconia, no one could take the heart out of Shadowheart.” Serena strokes her cheek softly, and Shadowheart shivers as she leans closer into her touch, so desperate to become one with her. “I know you think there’s bad in you, Shadowheart, but there simply isn’t…” Serena whispers in awe, in complete admiration of the woman before her. “And we learn from what hurts us the most. You could never do that to your own child…”

“They way you say it, it’s hard not to believe…” Shadowheart sniffles, and Serena wraps her arms around her, holding her close. 

Shadowheart comes to rest her chin on Serena’s shoulder, and she sighs, burying herself deep into her lover’s warm embrace. 

“I’m a terrible liar, you’d know.” Serena offers, and she grins when Shadowheart snickers a messy laugh into her shoulder. 

A kiss is pressed to Shadowheart’s head, and she sighs. 

“I adore you.” Serena admits quietly. “I only want what makes you happy. Child or no child, Shadowheart, I only ever need you.” 

Shadowheart glances up at her, gaze glassy with fresh unshed tears, moved to pieces by the tenderness with which Serena treats her. 

She opens her mouth to respond, but it’s a child’s voice that cuts through the silence first, bouncing up the cliff face and echoing across camp. 

“Tav! Do you want more- Oh! There you two are!” Yenna bounds over eagerly, nearly tripping over herself as hot stew tumbles out of the bowls and right into Tav’s lap, thanks to her quick timing, gently shoving Shadowheart out of the way. 

“...Oops!” Yenna covers her mouth, and then laughs out loud. “It’s still good, I promise!” She gestures to the two (now largely empty) bowls, and grins rather proudly. “I have to go give some to Gale. Bye!” She skips away, drawing the attention of both Grub and Scratch, causing quite the cacophony as she leaves. 

Shadowheart glances down at Serena’s lap, and then winces, giving her a look of utter sympathy. 

“...Perhaps it’s best if we wait a while, yet.” Shadowheart muses aloud. “…to have a child, I mean.” 

Serena winces in agreement, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain.