#it has the energy of something this guy just made by himself and had relatives voice act

[pearlzier]

you look so pitiful right now. you're tucked into your boyfriend's arm, staring blankly at the phone in front of you as you attempt to ignore the aching pains filling your entire body. god, period's fucking sucked. you felt like hell, and even if chris didn't want to make it all about himself—seeing you so distraught made his heart ache in all sorts of dumb ways.

“if i could kick the shit out of your cramps, ma,” he spoke up, careful not to move you, “i would. i'd fuckin’ destroy ‘em.”

a small, faint smile plays on your lips at his words and you subtly shift a little closer, using him as a makeshift heating pad. not like you didn't already have one, but any extra warmth was good. “believe me, you'd have a hard time trying to get past me beating the shit out of them,” your words are lazy, a tiny bit uncomfortable to get out. this only makes chris whine a little more and he nuzzles his head into your shoulder.

“are you sure there's nothing i can do to help? anythin’?” his brows raise, fingers brushing over your arm in a gentle pass. you really can believe you got so lucky to get a guy like this, but you're in a bit too much pain bleeding out for you to uh, register that. “y'know, i heard uh.. a little trade secret, babe.”

you know full well he's gonna say some dumb shit, but you encourage his behaviour almost instantly. “i'm all for it,” you mumble into his arm, brows raising a little.

a little giggle almost instantly slips past his lips and he runs his fingers over your cheek, before he mutters, “period cramps can be relieved in some uh, intimate ways.”

“christopher—” he practically beams as he sees you giggle, and he raises his hands as if to surrender, before he gently shifts you over onto the other side of the bed so he could get up and grab you something to eat from the cabinet.

the man came prepared.

“okay, okay, what d'you want? we got everythin’,” he lifted a packet of chips, eyeing it for a moment before he glanced over at you, “what, as they say, tickles your fancy, huh?” he was such a dork, god. your dork, but still.

your eyes lift to look at the options he has available, and you slowly slink yourself upwards to see them with a little grunt. chris runs a hand through his hair, showing off the food he'd raided from the fridge without matt or nick noticing. “can i..” you frown for a moment, letting the wave of pain pass before you spoke up again, “surprise me, actually, i don't think i have the energy nor brain power to pick.”

“surprise you? gotcha, one sec,” he folded his arms over his chest, blue eyes flickering over the food before he grabbed the little packet of muffins, then grabbed you a drink as well. “these alright? i may be a bit rusty,” a grin plays on his lips, and he shrugs his shoulders.

“nah, you're all good,” you chirp, a smile brightening your face as he very accurately gets your favourite foods correct. “come back, please, i think the cold is seeping back in.”

a self-satisfied smirk tugs at his lips and he makes his way back over, muttering a quick, “too fucking good,” under his breath before he slinks back under the covers beside you, placing the muffins down onto the tray alongside your drink. “comfy?” he asks after a moment, voice a little softer.

“yeah,” you gently place his hand over your tummy to try get some of his warmth before you place your own over the top, sighing gently as you relaxed into his touch. he let his head sit against your shoulder, resting his chin happily.

after a little while, chris notices you fidgeting a little and he gently brings you into his chest and gently grasping at your tummy. “i got you, i got you,” he muttered, plucking your phone from your hands and holding it in one of his so all you had to focus on was holding onto him. laying back against the headboard, he breathes evenly. “just relax. i know it's hard.”

“you're the best, you know that?” you mumbled gently, sighing softly. even when your pain was insane, chris managed keep you relatively sane. your hands slide down to his and you interlace your fingers together, a little smile playing on chris’ lips. “the best.”

“just doin’ what i gotta for my girl,” he shrugs his shoulders gently—”s'no biggie at all.”

☆  𝅄⠀ㅤׂ    also asking who tryna be on the taglist <3

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

All Kinds of Trouble

Alfie Solomons x Reader, Fluff, 1.2k words

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hi guys!! Ok so maybe hiatus is over? I'm trying to be gentle with myself and not hold myself to high standards in posting schedules. Again, therapy and Bar prep are a lot to handle rn, but I was able to do this little piece! This is based of a request sent in by my sweet friend @jassiefayee !!!! I hope you enjoy this angel!! Anyway, love you all so much! Have an amazing day!

Alfie didn’t find peace in many things. The business and all. Made him toss and turn at night, and in the daylight caused him to explode from the pure idiocy of people around him.

But walks in the park with Cyril? Now that gave him peace. With Cyril by his side, anyone who may have wanted to cause trouble stayed far away. Cyril’s imposing stature and mean looking face kept many men looking to scrap at bay, but little did they know that Cyril was by far the sweetest dog in Camden. And the fresh air did Alfie good. Being out in the park, feeling the breeze, hearing children and birds milling about created a sort of temple for him. A quiet place for him to let his mind rest, talk to himself (or God if he had a particular question), or just hum to the beat of Cyril's paws on the ground. This was his rest. This was his peace.

Now it should be noted, that one of the reasons that Alfie loved this particular park was that it was free of distractions for both him and Cyril. While Cyril was a very sweet and good natured dog who hardly ever caused an unnecessary ruckus, he was still a dog. And dogs have this strange habit, if not fantastic ability, to completely change the course of their owner's life.

So it was during a brisk walk on a fine November day where Alfie was suddenly pulled with all the force of heaven’s angels by Cyril’s lead through the park. And just as quick as he was yanked he was halted, nearly tripping over his boots and coat, and falling into Cyril and what might possibly be one of those treacherous angels.

It had become a relatively new habit for you to take a few moments of your day to sit in the park. Whether strolling, reading, or simply listening to the music of the city, you found the meditative state you entered in the park particularly divine. Spending all day cooped up in the house was not doing anyone any favors, and your mother insisted that you look at the sky, breathe in fresh air, or do something to get your energy out. And you enjoyed the respite from your family’s eyes and ears, and the view you caught of other people’s comings and goings. Often making up stories for the familiar faces that passed your eyes.

You had seen Mr. Solomons and his a dog before. It was hard to miss them. Both imposing. Even if Mr. Solomons wasn’t physically too tall, the air in which he carried himself made him seem absolutely monstrous. And the dog he walked along with came with a silent stature to match. When you mentioned to your mother that Mr. Solomons frequented your park, she all but forbid you to go to the park again. He was dangerous. A brute. Nothing good was associated with him. He was an animal. Damned.

Everyone in Camden had a story about Mr. Solomons. Even if they personally had never met him, they knew someone who knew someone who had crossed his path and suffered greatly. Fewer than those who crossed his path, were the women who had the pleasure of spending an evening with him. Demanding. Particular. Incredibly cross with hardly a smile crossing his firm mouth and creased brow. You had heard them all, many a time. And each time you heard the stories more fantastical and gory and outrageous they became. From the way the neighbors spoke of him, he might has well been an ogre who ate good men for supper. A confidant of the devil himself.

Yet those stories never deterred you from letting your eyes wander over to him when he made his way to the park. Surely observing doesn’t damn one’s soul right? And wondering if stories are true surely cannot condemn. Besides, he was never close enough to truly make a difference. A glance and gaze and thought were all that you experienced with the fearsome King of Camden. Until this afternoon, when that monstrous dog came charging at you with a gleeful and slobbery smile. And for whatever reason you never moved from your seat. You stayed planted on your spot on the bench, waiting for whatever was to come. And your supposed attack was merely a disgusting kiss to the neck and chin from the dog, and happy pants from it as well. It’s master, cursing and bellowing at hundred pound puppy who was uninterested in the threats of its flustered master.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the reddened face of Mr. Solomons, clearly out of breathe from the exertion of the sudden chase. “Mr. Solomons are you quite alright? Do you need to sit?”

“Hmm? No, no don’t worry about me angel, m’fine. This damn dog knows better than to run full force in a park. You alright love? Hope Cyril didn’t scare ya.”

You smiled warmly at him, and he was convinced he must have died in the chase and gone to Heaven. Your sweet eyes and tempting lips all too pretty to be here in Camden. You scratched Cyril’s ears before answering, "Oh no Mr. Solomons, I'm fine. Cyril here is very very sweet."

"Now treacle, I think I'm at a disadvantage. Don't like that at all me. Now how is it yeah, that you know my name and now my dog's name... but I don't get to know your name sweetness?"

With a quirked brow you answer, "Oh Mr. Solomons, everyone knows your name. The ferocious King of Camden, and his demon dog. Lots of tales about you Mr. Solomons.”

Alfie allowed himself a smile at your cheek, “Lots of stories eh? Which one is your favorite?”

“The one where you bested the devil himself in a game of chess and won the keys to hell.”

Alfie made himself comfortable next to you on the bench, making sure that his thigh touched yours, “Is that so? Your mum tell you that little one?”

You shook your head, “No sir. She told me I wasn’t to go near you.”

“And yet here you are, talking to bad men. Tsk tsk tsk. Naughty ain’t you?”

“It’s fun to be naughty sometimes. Don’t you agree Mr. Solomons?”

Alfie couldn’t help but bring his shiny rings to your cheek, taking stock of your face. You never flinched away, keeping fiery eyes locked on his. He hummed a tune you didn’t know, and stated, “There’s an opera tonight at 8. You’ll come with me. Wear something nice.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange men.”

“I don’t go to operas with strange women. Yet here we are sweet. I thought you liked being naughty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his brazenness. In truth, you couldn’t believe you allowed yourself to get this far. But it was too delicious to let go now. “You’ll pick me up on the corner of 10th and Victoria? At 6pm.”

“Now what will I do with you for two hours before the play treacle?”

You shrugged, “Show me how the King of Camden has a good night.”

Alfie laughed heartily, “Fuck me you really are a bad little thing aren’t you. Alright sweetness, I’ll pick you up there at 6. And let’s see what we can get up to.”

[moongreenlight]

More on Soap and his f!demon!reader because you guys forced me like oooookay I get it you’re horny on main

Just kidding everything I do is for you. All you have to do is vaguely imply that you want something and I’m all over it baby anything you need.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Johnny’s demon who follows him everywhere after his first kill. Bound to him the moment the bullet left his chamber. A partnership of sorts. Cast into the pits and valleys of his soul. Gifted to him in the few intimate moments where the deafening blast of his rifle slowed time. Kept a secret even from him. A partnership between this world and the next. Quite literally a give and take. You sworn to him so long as he kept up his end of the bargain. Kill or be killed.

You stayed concealed in shadows for years. Flitting from corner to corner to make sure you always had an eye on him. Silently coaching him through little whispers carried to his ears on the wind. Watching him grow as a soldier under your care. Honing and refining his skill as you saw fit. Leaning your chin just over his shoulder during missions. Voice leading him through to victory like siren song.

Protecting him when it was necessary. Wrapping your big wings around him to shield him from an onslaught of bullets. Leaving his side only for a moment to gore a sniper with their sights on him with your blackbuck horns. Curling your fingers around his to force the trigger of his pistol back if he hesitated and put himself in danger.

It was a bit dirty in principle. Like forging his signature on the deed that signed his soul over to the devil, but he didn’t seem to mind. The cost of invincibility coming at a relatively low price all things considered. The only drawback was his ego. Sizable before, now bloated into something almost grotesque. Cocksure and arrogant but not without his charms.

Not to mention, you’d almost taken a liking to Johnny in your time together. Like a parasite slowly becoming fond of their host. He keeps you fed. Bringing you with him to the field, letting you gorge yourself on blood and carnage and pain until all you can do is drape yourself over his broad shoulders and lazily flick your magic around when it’s required. And he’s decently entertaining for a mortal. Has to be the best company you’ve been forced to keep in at least a few hundred years.

Though you found yourself getting increasingly irritated each time he came home from a mission and thanked God of all people. Letting him pick up a few more scrapes and bruises than you usually would on his missions after that whole bit started. Each murmured ‘Thank you’ making you hiss and howl down at him from your perch in the shadows. Wanting to show him just who he should be thanking for his survival.

Tired of his baseless belief and wanting to teach him a lesson on saying thank you; you revealed your human form to him during midnight mass on Christmas Day. Can’t say you didn’t have a sense of humor.

You sat alone in the pews. Feeling when he entered the church minutes after you. Skin erupting into goosebumps, hair standing on end, a heat starting under your skin like you’d been dropped into a pot of water being slowly brought to a boil. You watched from the corner of your eye as he and his family slowly made their way down the rows of pews, finding yours was the only one with enough room to hold the lot of them together. It all seemed too perfect when you and Johnny ended up knee-to-knee.

You felt his energy shift. He could feel you as much as you could feel him, but the sensation was foreign to him. The same discomfort you’d been plunged into when you took your human form. Trying to cooly fold the sleeves of his dress shirt up at his elbows and seem attentive to his mother who was harping on him about his hair up until the moment the priest stepped to the pulpit.

You didn’t get a chance at him until the congregation was finally prompted to greet one another. Some love your neighbor nonsense.

Johnny turned to you immediately. Standing from his pew with the rest of the crowd. Unable to sit still in such discomfort. His skin hot as yours. Buzzing just under the surface like he was inches away from a live wire.

You blinked up at him through thick lashes, wetting your lips with a flick of your tongue before pushing to your feet. Letting him shift his weight for a few more moments as you looked him over.

Standing in front of him, he dwarfed you. Always had- but especially now when you didn’t have your wings or horns to compensate. Not the tallest in the room, but carried himself like he was. Chest puffed out, arms subtly flexed by his sides, dress shirt hugging his muscled form just right.

He stuck a hand out. Brow cocked as he sized you up with glittering blue eyes.

“Peace be with you.”

He spoke first. You fitted your hand in his. Barely blinking when the meeting of your skin elicited something like a static shock. Relieving both of you from your discomfort.

“And with your spirit.”

You responded through a coy smile. He looked reluctant to take his arm back. The shock hadn’t deterred him. Instead he wrapped his fingers all the way around your hand, hanging on to you for a beat longer than was necessary.

“Alone on Christmas?”

He still didn’t let go of your hand. A sharp smile. Almost predatory.

“Nobody to spend it with.”

You shrugged, still gazing up at him with big doe eyes. Finally allowing your hand to drop from his and immediately feeling pins and needles in the absence of his touch.

“Don’t believe that for a minute.”

You caught his knee inching toward yours on more than one occasion as the mass carried on. Like he was testing the waters to see if you were truly the reprive he was seeking. Fidgeting slightly where he sat. Teeth clicking softly as he ground them. Cracking his knuckles. Clenching and unclenching his jaw. Shifting his hips slightly forward on the bench. To his credit, he showed an impressive amount of restraint. Never touching you. Not that it would have done much through his trousers.

The one true pitfall of your being bound to his soul. Forgotten until now in its seeming insignificance. It was near agony for the both of you when you took human form. Like your life force being torn in two and dangled temptingly close but just out of arm’s reach. A kind of pain that didn’t need to land blows on either of your physicalities. Felt divinely through each you. Not used to being separated, you had an almost instinctual need to be together. You’d known beforehand and he seemed to be picking up on it quickly. Skin needed to touch skin in order to provide either one of you any relief. Give both of your spirits space to knit themselves back together.

For being so tightly braided in the fibers of his being, you found it almost shocking that you hadn’t noticed how desperate he could be when he was looking for release. Body tense in his increased discomfort. No doubt grappling with the effects of your separation. Sweat beading at the back of his neck. Tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. Bouncing his knee. Looking up toward the rafters before fixing his gaze on you in an attempt to pass it off as a sweep of the room. The way he brushed your arm reaching over you for a bible nestled in a pocket just in front of you. Making contact with your exposed skin for a fraction of a second and nearly whining when the both of you felt your unease settle for a fleeting moment.

Trying to push up against you when you were down on the kneelers, murmuring a clipped apology each time. Still somehow finding time to rake his eyes over you. Nails digging little half-moons into the back of his hands where they were clasped in prayer.

On the tail end of the service, communion was given. You followed behind Johnny and his family. Just behind him like you had so many times before. His normal prowl substituted for a more casual saunter. Subduing his ego for something a bit more reserved in the presence of not only his family but also the good lord. Nodding his thanks as he took his bread and wine. You had to fight back the distasteful curl of your lip at the motion. Even now he was thanking God.

You saw the way he tried to casually turn his gaze back to you when you stepped up to take your Eucharist. Tongue laid out flat and long, head tipped back a few degrees. Intentionally pornographic in your acceptance of the wafer. Nearly tripping over his feet when he caught you staring straight back to him. You made a show of pulling your tongue back into your mouth, your best attempt at a demure smile curving your lips.

He tailed you closely on your march out of the church. You lingering on the walkway. Seeing the way his eyes flicked back to you as he walked his parents to their car. Mother still going on about something or the other. He needed to visit more or he needed a proper haircut or he needed to call more. He cut her off with a kiss on the cheek before closing the car door. Shook his father’s hand. And as expected, crossed the parking lot quickly to get back to you. Grinning wolfishly as he saw you stood with your winter coat folded neatly over your arms pretending to look around for who knew what.

“Still alone, are we?”

He queried, standing in front of you, folding his arms over his chest. You didn’t miss the way he flexed just barely, making the dress shirt bite into his bicep.

“You worried about me?”

You cocked your head slightly to the side, chewing the inside of your lip to dilute the smile threatening to curl your lips.

“Ken I oughta be, pretty lass like you.”

He chuckled softly, blue eyes glittering under the warm glow of the lights outside the church.

“Aren’t you sweet.”

You deadpanned.

“You’ve got no idea.”

He’s used to getting what he wants, that ego of his. And you’d made the mistake of not outlining exactly how quickly you’d play into his game beforehand. Mind now clouded from not being with him. Walls came crumbling down embarrassingly quick.

He’d somehow persuaded you to let him give you a lift back to his place. You making up some excuse about not being from the area, staying with a friend who must have fallen asleep instead of picking you up after church. Somehow allowed him to keep his hand fixed on the small of your back up two flights of stairs to his flat. Somehow wound up with a tumbler of whiskey in your hand, pushed onto the couch with Johnny sandwiching you against the arm.

Awfully smart for a mortal man. Figured out what it took to keep him comfortable and ran with it. His fingertips ghosting along the hem of your dress. Delighting in the goosebumps both of you got when he brushed your skin with his. The insatiable heat crackling within each of you dying down each time only to be fanned with a renewed fervor when he drew back. Eventually settling on not pulling away at all. Resting his hand on the top of your thigh, running the fabric of your dress between a few fingers. Careful to keep his palm flat against you. Infuriatingly comfortable with you seeing as you were a complete stranger to him. Chatting like the two of you were old friends. Flirting like you had done this time and time again.

He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. Couldn’t be arsed to play the fool and try and skirt around the subject. A dog after a bone, really. Practically drooling over you as you made idle chitchat. And the worst part was that it was working. You’d try to blame it on your addled state. Not in your right mind. Only you knew how flimsy those excuses were. Trying to curb his advances with little success. Trying to keep the ball in your court.

You were still looking to assign blame to something when he grabbed your hips and tugged you under him on the couch. Circumstance. Mindset. Whiskey. Church. God. You couldn’t even remember what the two of you had been talking about. Something insignificant. Very well could have been the weather. You had a feeling it didn’t really matter.

Hovering over you close enough to feel his feverish heat all over. His knee forcing its way between your legs like he felt some kind of right. Using his big paws, still clamped around your hips to grind you against his thigh. A sharp laugh when you tried to hide the soft mewls that bubbled up inside you.

You felt smaller than you had in eons. Not used to being jerked about. Reduced to something resembling a true human under Johnny’s touch. Not having been material for centuries would do that, you supposed. No room to think about the needs of your physical body if it’s something that’s been shelved until now. And- fuck. It’s like somehow your body had found room to store up thousands of years of repression. Bursting at the seams. Somehow, the heat in your belly rivaled that of being separated from him. A feeling that couldn’t be sated like your bloodlust. Like a hunger that could claw its way up out of you if left untreated.

He was grinning at you like the cat that ate the fucking canary. Properly giddy. Tickled with himself for snatching you up. You wanted to snap at him. Hiss and spit like you had when he’d thanked God instead of you after a mission. Remind him that he wasn’t the hero he thought he was because this was all part of your plan, but the words died in your throat.

“Jesus. Thought you’d be a good girl. Meetin’ you in a church and all.”

His voice wasn’t doing anything to help your case. Nearly sending you feral under him. Unable to help the wetness gathering at your sex. You tried to press your thighs together. To buck his hands off of you, but it only made him snap his teeth in your face. His fingers bit in just a touch harder, pressing you down into the couch.

“Thought you said you were sweet.”

You bit back, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Dinnae know s’what you wanted. Don’t seem like it.”

“Funny.”

You shot back, voice a bit more obviously breathless than you would have liked. He’d let go of your hips, leaving you to grind yourself against the muscle of his thigh that was pressed tightly against you. He looked down, watching the way you moved. Whining at the sight. You were much too lost in your mind to notice the small damp spot that was forming on the leg of his trousers. Rolling your hips lazily against him.

“You like funny? Cunt get this wet for any funny bastard that comes along?”

You couldn’t muffle the high keening sound that tore from your throat in time. His filthy words taking you by surprise. Blinking rapidly and making a vain effort to still your hips, but he was quick to the kill. Snorting a laugh and tugging you up off the couch. Bullying you down the short hallway and into his bedroom. Walking you backwards using his legs to guide you. Puffed-out chest knocking you in the direction he wanted, kicking at your feet if you were going to run into the wall or a corner. Herding you like some sort of farm dog. There was a nasty look in his eyes now that you weren’t touching anymore. Even a few seconds apart seemed too much.

He shoved you backward onto the bed, not giving you time to adjust the awkward angle at which you’d landed before he was knelt before you on the ground. Yanking you forward by the backs of your knees which caused your dress to bunch at your hips. Leaving your dripping sex exposed to him. The thin panties doing little to hide your arousal. You yipped softly, trying to twist away from him. Give yourself the high ground, but he wasn’t having it.

He wasn’t the light, arrogant, charming Johnny you’d seen before. Nor was he the dark, rough operator you’d seen him be on the field. This was something different entirely. He looked like a predator that had finally caught some elusive prey. A flash of his teeth through an infuriatingly smug smile. Eyes raking you over like he was about to tear into you. It made something deep within you coil tightly. The heat in your belly now at a roaring boil. Your plan long forgotten. Lost somewhere to swirl among the fog that took over your mind.

Given the animosity he was exuding, he took his sweet time warming you up. Kissing, nipping, sucking, licking his way up your legs. From knee to hip on both sides. Leaving small, dark marks on your skin. Marking his territory. Panting softly over your barely clothed cunt. You making your situation even worse when you twitched and mewled softly under him. Cheeks burning a deep scarlet.

It was entirely too much and somehow not enough. The visual of him knelt between your legs that were hanging off the bed. His artful way of touching you. Your thundering heartbeat and the blood rushing in your ears. It nearly pushed you over the edge without him even needing to touch you.

He was a dog pulling on a taught leash. Doing everything he could to restrain himself. His breathing was ragged. Eyes steely. Pupils blown out. Unable to look away from the damp spot on your panties. Humming his approval at the sight. Working his calloused fingers under the fabric and guiding them down your legs. His muscles were tense, impossibly so, threatening to burst the seams of his shirt. Swallowing hard when he finally got a look at your drooling pussy.

“Jesus, bonnie. Fuckin’ perfect.”

He shifted slightly on his knees. Cock pressing uncomfortably hard against his pants. The muscles in his jaw twitched slightly. Sat stilled for a moment with his hands at your thighs with a white-knuckle grip.

You whined. A choked sound. Trying to squirm out of his eyesight. A bit uncomfortable being ogled. This sent him back into action, strong hands yanking you back toward him. Snapping his teeth in your face in warning.

He then spent more time working you out. Like he had nothing else he’d rather be doing. His mouth hot and wet. Touching anywhere but your clit out of some torturous principle. Spreading you open with his thumbs. Lolling out his tongue and allowing drool to drip down off it and add to your gathering slick. Blowing cool air on you. Watching your every twitch and shake with lust-glazed eyes that somehow seemed more attentive than normal. Committing you to memory.

You were nearly in tears. He’d ruined your plan. Turned you from an all powerful being into some shivering, whimpering thing. Overstimulated without him needing to wreck you with an orgasm. Sweating and whining and yelping at his touch. Trying to tangle your fingers in his hair and jerk him closer, but he just swatted your hands away or sunk his teeth into the meat of your thigh to shut you up. Unable to be put off of his path even after you’d stooped well below your status and managed to ask nicely a few times.

And when he finally, fucking finally, showed you a bit of mercy; he only sunk one finger into you. Enough to make you let out a low, throaty growl, but not enough to satisfy you. He pumped in and out at an agonizingly slow pace. Biting his lip and panting as he watched the way your drooling cunt swallowed him so perfectly. You tried to roll your hips into him like you had on the couch. Tried to grind into his knuckles to give your swollen clit some friction, but he rewarded your efforts with a mean slap on the leg. It took you by surprise. Pain like that- physical pain- had been so rare that it made you cry out and jerk your head up to stare at him wide eyed and open mouthed.

“Yer gettin’ bratty. Take what I give you.”

He shrugged, still unable to tear his eyes away from where you were clenched around him. Though he didn’t bother hiding the smug smile he was sporting.

“N-not enough. More.”

You whined, tossing your head back onto the mattress.

“Hell of a way to say thank you.”

He chided, tutting his tongue softly.

“You’re out of your mind if-“

He put a quick stop to your impending tirade by stuffing you full with another finger. A soft squelching sound as he began to pump faster that sent you reeling. Unable to form a coherent thought, you were left to fall apart on his bed. Legs hanging lamely off the edge as he had his way with your cunt. Treating it like you weren’t even there. Cooing pure filthy words of admiration to your sweet cunt. Pinching around your clit for a moment before sliding back down to hold you open between the index and middle fingers of his free hand.

Fuck. So pretty. Look how she sucks me in, mm? Needy thing. Never been treated this good? Need‘ta get you ready, yeah? Bet she’ll be prettier all stretched out.

By this point, you were sobbing. Fat tears rolling down your cheeks and creating little stains on the comforter on either side of your head. Rolling down your neck. Something coiled so tightly under your belly that you were certain you would implode. Turn yourself inside out before he ever granted you release. Pained and overstimulated and under-stimulated all at once. Rendering you useless in doing anything other than moaning and fisting the sheets weakly in your hands.

He stayed like this for a few minutes, until he could tell that you were getting pushed to your breaking point. Working up his pace. Curling his fingers more and more. Letting his breath fan you. Still uttering filth like it was prayer. Fucking reverent. Slowly adding drops of water to a reservoir until the dam burst. It sent you careening over the edge when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit and gave a gentle suck. Lewd, wet noises coming from the both of you. It took all of a few seconds for you to reach your orgasm. Whatever had been furled tightly within you finally snapping and exploding outwards. Wiping your mind clean. Only allowing you to focus on your release. Walls clenching and spasming around his fingers that did not relent. Crying out and moaning and gasping much louder than you’d meant. Clapping a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. Bucking your hips up into him and re-starting the entire process when your now hypersensitive clit grazed his teeth or tongue.

He stayed latched on to you for much longer than was appropriate. Lapping up as much of your spend as he could. Working his fingers into you well past the point of exhaustion. Keeping you spread open and on his view the entire way. Paying no mind to the way his knees began to object to his position or how tight his cock was pressed against his pants. Obsessed with the way your body reacted to him. Obsessed with your pleasure.

It felt like he was trying to make you come completely undone. Pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you were nothing but a puddle on the bed. He spared you no mercy when he finally pushed himself to his feet. Hands flying to his belt and tearing it off. Too impatient be bothered to shed his trousers completely, opting to tuck the waistband just under his heavy balls. Shucking your dress up over your head. Using the slick gathered on his hands to lubricate his cock before he started fucking into his hand.

His leaking tip bumped against your clit each time he thrusted forward, sending you spiraling. Seeing stars. And now that he was certain he’d gotten you to come, it seemed the only thing he could focus on was his own orgasm. Yanking off his dress shirt with one hand. Working his needy mouth across your chest, up your neck, over your jaw until finally he met your lips. Leaving a slick trail of spit in his wake. Meeting your mouth with such a desperation that your teeth bumped together. His tongue sloppily working it’s way past your lips and further into your mouth.

He continued to fuck into his hands, eyes rolling back each time he brushed against you. Hypersensitive by nature, amplified a thousand times by the throbbing hardness of his cock. Dipping into you just a centimeter at a time. Driving the both of you insane. The scalding heat of his skin pressed flush against yours. The taste of yourself still on his mouth and chin. Sweat on sweat. Your head spinning. Mind still clouded with blinding pleasure. You wanted to tear him to shreds. So frustrated with him and his effect on you. Ruining your plans. Like he’d taken a seam ripper to your edges and was pulling you apart without even needing to try.

He hummed something filthy that you couldn’t quite make out. Sound muffled by the blood thundering through your ears. Letting out something that resembled a scream when he finally sheathed his cock deep within your walls. No longer satisfied with the stimulation of his hand. Bottoming out on his first thrust. Finally slipping himself out of the collar that was choking him in his rabid attempt to bury himself in you. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth, and you found yourself truly connecting the dots as to why he was so insistent on stretching you out with his fingers and loosening you up with multiple orgasms.

Your back arching impossibly further up into him. His sweat-slick forehead pressed hard against yours. Noses bumping together as he set a punishing pace humping into you. His eyes screwed shut in pleasure. Groaning and whining about how good you felt around him. He was beating hard against your cervix. White-hot pain popped spots behind your eyes. Your body trying to adjust to the feeling of him buried so deep.

“Fuckin’ perfect. Takin’ me so good.”

His tone was stuck somewhere resembling a growl. Rumbling so low you swore you could feel it in in your chest. Teeth clenched. Huffing in sharp breaths as his hips slammed into yours repeatedly. All you could do was mewl and cry under him in response.

He reached his orgasm relatively quickly, burying impossibly deeper into you when he finally came. His face buried into the crook of your neck, teeth sunk into your collarbone. It irritated you that he didn’t think to ask if he should pull out. But that was yet another boundary he didn’t seem to care for. Like he knew there was no way you could deny him. Like he felt that same entitlement to any part of you that he wanted. And honestly- that thought rang dauntingly true.

He thrust lazily into you, riding out his high before collapsing down next to you. Still sporting that infuriatingly smug grin. Fucking glowing. Tugging you over into his big arms and wrapping them around you. Tucking you under his chin and suffocating you with his smell. Sex and whiskey and cologne and incense. You hated that it worked to calm your aching body and mind.

“Oughta keep you around.”

He mused, chuckling breathlessly over you.

You simply hummed your response. Sighing sharply and resigning to the fact that revealing yourself to him at all may have been a mistake. You were at his service indefinitely.

[cactusisconfused]

I HAVE AN IDEA :O

Cw: homophobia (brief), fluff, not beta read, he die like Roach.

-

Soap has a stuffed rabbit when he was child, a gift from his mother.

Growing up, the stuffed rabbit was one of Soap’s favorite things in the world. He’d take it everywhere- the park, grocery shopping or even any outings that his family went on.

He had slept with it too, kept his nightmares at bay. But as he grew older he felt ridicules for having such ties with some inanimate object- at least that’s how everyone else felt.

“Don’t you think it’s time you’ve moved passed that stupid thing John? You’re growing up to be man, you got act like one.” His father had told him one night, as Johnny cradled his stuffed bunny in his arms. He was six at the time.

He still slept with it, but he hated the glances his father would give him. He hated hearing the conversations between his parents. How his mother would always say “John’s just a boy, let him grow up on his own.” His father would always just scoff and say that it would be her fault that he would have a gay son.

John didn’t really know what that meant at the time, but he was scared of disappointing his father, so he stopped.

He stopped carrying the stuffed bunny everywhere, stopped sleeping with it. And sure, maybe the nightmares became more prevalent, but he was being more of a man now, right? He was being what his father wanted, right?

Eventually, John found himself thinking less and less about the stuffed bunny, somewhere in his closet.

Life went on. He got through school, watched his older sisters go off to college and he himself into the military.

It wasn’t until a long while later, that Soap remembered the stuffed bunny once more. He had been part of the 141 for a little longer than a year, and dating ghost for five months.

They had a gap between missions, about a months worth of down time, something incredibly rare for their line of profession. This time off landed, in a dark ironic way, perfectly as Soaps father finally kicked the bucket.

Soap would be going back to Scotland for the funeral, and with the best puppy dog eyes Ghost could muster (a sight that will never get old given it’s coming from a walk of a man) Simon would tag along.

Soap was relatively quiet about his dad, but what he did speak about made him realize he really didn’t like the guy. Growing up, Soap tried not think about his father, about the disappointment that always seems to radiate off of him, how he was never good enough for his father. And you know what, yeah he is gay, so what?!

Soap showed up for the funeral and was filled with an almost sense of joy at how neither his sisters or his mother looked distraught over the ‘loss.’

Of course, Soaps mother was over joyed to see her son and be introduced to Simon, which was a fun scenario to watch Simon maneuver around in.

The night, despite the day of the funeral, was cheerfully fun. Soaps mother made a wonderful meal, that screamed nostalgia for Soaps, and his sisters who shared every single embarrassing story about Soap’s youth to Simon.

By the time they all felt their energies zapped from them, they retired for the night. For the first time in years, Soap stepped into his childhood room. The posters are still the same, along with the bedding and the books on his bookshelf.

“Never knew you played football.” Simon says softly, his eyes carefully looking over the few medals Soap has acquired from his school years.

“Aye.” Soap started, moving their luggage into his closet to make more space.

“Was a goalie. Coach didnae lemme’ play offense, said I was ‘too rough. Wasnae all bad though, I actually-…” Soap had started with a light tone the memories flooding back to him. He hadn’t meant to create a lull in his words, and really only realized he did when Ghost called his name, now behind him.

“Johnny?”

“Ahm fine, sorry I just…” At this point Simon’s eyes drift to where Johnny’s are looking- at a worn, slightly dust covered stuffed bunny.

Soap felt like he was a kid again as he saw it. Felt that same happiness, but felt that same tension. If he picked it back up, would he still be good enough. He knows his father was a dick, but it’s hard to erase the words from his mind.

What catches Soap out of his thoughts, is when ghost carefully picks up the stuffed bunny, so gently he might as well be holding a new born baby.

Soap ready’s himself for some comment making fun of him for having a stuffed animal, but instead he’s met with Simon’s soft look. Of course Simon would never say anything like that to him, now that he thought about it.

If Soap ends up taking the stuffed bunny back with him, his mother says nothing but gives a knowing smile.

And if and when Johnny and Simon retire Johnny sleeps with the bunny hugged between the two men, that’s for him and his husband to know.

-

Lmao this was actually so wholesome. I also typed all of this out on my phone and I’m tired so please ignore typos, I’ll fix those in the morning.

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.4

Back in the saddle again

You know, I'm not sure if tinkers actually are "supposed" to be smart. The other examples we have to work off of besides Kid Win are Bakuda (constant state of fucking around and finding out until it killed her), Armsmaster (he of the dumbfuck raid boss solo plot), and Dragon (actually no notes on Dragon's relative intelligence), plus Chariot in just a minute here who literally only succeeds at being a mole because the Protectorate allows him to succeed as a ploy

I'll concede that they're adept engineers and scientists, sure, but you can know how to build a nuclear reactor and still be dumb enough to build it in your backyard. There's no single measure of intelligence that everyone measures high on, that's just not how it goes.

Then again like two-thirds of this chapter are lowkey about Kid having self-esteem issues so like, I get that he's being hard on himself. I feel like half the cape POVs we've gotten so far have self-esteem issues, never mind Taylor Hebert Queen of Self-Image Problems

I'm gonna skim over a lot of this fight like I had in 9.3, but while this can't feel good for one's confidence, honestly I'd mostly just be relieved. Like, yes, let the villains whose powers are Railgun and The Fucking Sun take it easy on me, that's fine, I like my body parts staying in the configuration they have.

Thank God he actually has a chance to feel like he's contributing, without the horror of accidentally killing someone

Wow, Trickster sucks. Why do they put up with this guy?

So, somehow I doubt he's somehow lacking in a specialty, but from the description of his apparent focus issues (plus the fact that taking medication to help with focus nearly took him out) I wonder if the way his tinker stuff goes involves having a bunch of little things, if the lack of focus is somehow a sign of what his specialty actually is.

Oh fucking boy

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay (sarcastic)

Also I don't know why they specifically would go to cities that have already been Endbringered but there's a real "kick them while they're down" energy to it that I do not care for. Goddamn jackals.

Is it the "another tinker" thing or the "that wasn't Armsmaster" thing that he's more excited about lmao

Weld's adapting a little better to his role, and Clockblocker is able to keep his mouth shut and play along, so things are improving.

I dunno man, it's a citywide apocalypse, does bedtime matter anymore?

Hey what the

Fuck

is going on here

Tinker-to-tinker communication

Y'know, now I'm curious what the wages are for a non-Tinker Protectorate member. Obviously Tinkers can have it made if they've got something the higher-ups want, but is Miss Militia making enough to own a house? Is your income tied to merch sales?

Think this is the first time someone has outright said triggering as a parahuman rewires your brain to some extent. Curious to see further elaboration on that.

I think if you're gonna hire a mole, you should make sure they can lie convincingly. That feels like step two.

(Step one is "make sure you can trust this person to be a mole for you")

Fucking gottem

Well hey Kid, looks like you're pulling your weight after all

Current Thoughts

I do think Sentinel is a neat arc but I'll admit, in recounting and rereading this it lost me a little bit. That might just be the Travelers fight though, I could feel the lack of stakes to the fight like a gap between my teeth.

Kid seems like a solid character, classic impulsive inventor with an actual exploration of what that impulsiveness does to his work ethic and self-worth. I'm glad he gets a chance to shine here and I hope he figures out his exact specialization so he can stop being so down on himself

The Wards do seem to be coalescing into more of a team as things progress, sure would be a shame if the resident lone wolf was to fall for obvious bait and disrupt that or something.

[morehotch]

birthday secret

info: aaron x babysitter, age gap (reader is in grad school and their age is not specified), it’s aaron’s birthday, gender neutral reader, 2.7k wc

Babysitting Jack Hotchner is one of your absolute favorite times of the week. Jack is a sweet, loving, and a curious six year old that you’ve been babysitting for over a year.

You spent a lot of time with Jack, whenever his aunt was unavailable to watch him, his father texted you to see if you could stay with him. Jack’s father, Aaron, had a very demanding job that didn’t totally understand the specifics of. You know he works for the FBI and travels an immense amount. You’ve spent many nights in their apartment’s guest room, putting Jack to sleep and taking him to school in the morning.

For how much time you spend with Jack, you definitely appreciate how adorable and caring he is. Jack has always been relatively easy to care for and would only come to you upset if he missed his dad and wanted nighttime snuggles— or if it was storming outside.

It’s a big bonus that Aaron Hotchner is incredibly, unfairly, attractive. He always wears pressed and expensive suits with his fancy watch and his usual stern gaze only made his smiles and laughter that much more enticing and encapsulating.

You only hope your raging crush on your boss isn’t too obvious. Aaron is just the total a package, way more responsible and considerate than guys your age— and more attractive. How great he was with Jack and how much he prioritized and cared about his son only amplified how much you unfairly think about Aaron Hotchner.

When you’re making dinner for Jack in their kitchen, you can’t help but think about what it would feel like to have Aaron’s arms come wrap around your torso, resting his chin on your shoulder. Or— whenever you borrowed a shirt or sweatshirt from his closet, you force yourself to ignore how ridiculously good his clothes smell and how comfortable they are.

Tonight, Aaron texts you that he should be back around 8 or 9 tonight and is only staying a few hours later than usual. He wasn’t on a specific case and traveling, instead he had a long budget meeting at the end of his work day.

But today is also Aaron’s birthday and Jack had been talking to you about it all day ever since you picked Jack up from school.

From the two years you’ve been babysitting Jack, you learned that Aaron wasn’t big on his own birthday. From the parties you attended for Jack, you know he puts an immense amount of effort for Jack’s birthdays— but his own were easily overlooked by himself.

But not by Jack.

You stand in the kitchen with Jack now, finishing the dinner you made for the two of you as he helps to put his plate in the sink with a sad pout.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, noticing his sudden mood change since he had finished his favorite mac and cheese.

“My dad doesn’t have a cake,” Jack frowns, continuing, “usually me and daddy always eat cake for his birthday.”

You bite your lip, trying to think, “do you have the ingredients here for us to make something?”

You had spent most of today helping Jack make birthday cards, wrap his dad’s presents, and make a special birthday sign. You know Aaron would be more than happy with everything else Jack had already done but you also know that Jack absolutely thinks the cake is the most important part of birthday celebrations.

Jack looks around, thinking, “wait, maybe!” He clammers out of his chair to rush towards the pantry, obviously searching for something.

You follow him as he pulls out a box of chocolate cake mix and shows it to you. You glance at the other ingredients required and make sure they have them all before agreeing as he excitedly cheers.

Jack quickly helps you round everything together, now full of energy for your baking project. “Ok,” you sigh, staring at all the ingredients now laying out in front of you as he giggles, clasping his hands together, “let’s start!”

You read the directions as Jack looks at you for instruction. He helps you crack the eggs and watches as you mix the rest of the ingredients together in their mixer before you finish pouring the mix into two different cake pans, sticking them in the oven.

You finish with minimal mess as Jack’s interest focuses on the container of bright blue icing he mysteriously pulls from the pantry. You wipe down the counter and put the dishes in the dishwater while you wait for the oven timer to go off while Jack finishes some of his homework from school today. 

Once the cake is done and Jack impatiently watches it cool, you help him ice it, making sure to wipe off his blue stained hands with a wipe afterwards.

He giggles happily at your end product; the two layered chocolate cake with neon blue icing is not the most aesthetically pleasing dessert you’ve seen but it smells good and did it’s job of distracting Jack from missing his father and wanting to celebrate his birthday.

Jack grins, throwing his arms around your legs to hug you. “Daddy will love it!”

“I know he will,” you laugh, ruffling his hair as you smile down at him. 

-

It’s around 7:00 pm when Jack starts to get tired but you can tell he’s willing herself to stay awake, desperately wanting to wait up for Aaron on his birthday. But you know he planned on staying pretty late tonight so you’re sadly not sure if Jack will be able to stay up for him. You’re about to suggest starting to get ready for bed until you get the first text from Aaron you’ve gotten since you picked Jack up from school. 

Hey, I’m otw home.

You tell Jack and he quickly runs to the kitchen to make sure the cakes looks presentable, suddenly gaining a rush of adrenaline, running back down the hallway to his room to pull out his dad’s presents and cards. 

Jack bounces on his heels excitedly for almost ten minutes straight and when the door finally opens, he rushes to Aaron, “Daddy!” he runs straight into his arms, knocking the air only slightly out of him.

“Hey buddy,” he grins, lifting up Jack into his arms. 

“Something smells good,” he remarks and turns to you.

“It’s a secret!” Jack yells, slightly into Aaron’s left ear. 

“Well, it must be a yummy secret then,” he says and Jack giggles sweetly. 

“Come see it, it’s for you!” Jack says, wiggling out of his father’s hold only to grab his hand and tug him into the kitchen. Aaron looks over his shoulder to make eye contact with you and smile at his son’s excitement, obviously endeared. 

“Thank you,” he mouths and you smile, trying to ignore how hot your face feels. 

“It’s your birthday,” you say, once you join them in the kitchen. “You have to have a cake.”

“See! Y/n said so too!” Jack tugs on his dad’s suit jacket that Aaron begins to take off before sitting down. He uncuffs his button down and rolls the sleeves up to his forearms and loosens his tie and you suck in an audible breath, too enamored to even feel that embarrassed. 

Luckily, Jack saves you from any scrutiny, bouncing up and down from excitement. He had been waiting to see his dad all day and any of the tiredness he felt a few minutes ago had totally disappeared. 

“Can we eat it now?” Jack asks and Aaron smiles, taking a good look at the chocolate-- blue, obviously homemade cake. 

“Why don’t you wash up first,” he says, hand on Jack’s back, who nods and runs to the bathroom.

Aaron turns to you with a grin. “Thank you again, Y/n. You totally didn’t have to do this.”

“No problem, we wanted to do this for your birthday. I hope your meeting went well.” You say politely.

“Not really,” he says quickly, “but that’s expected when dealing with my boss.” Aaron chuckles under his breath. “Nothing better than a cut budget and threatening to fire me on my birthday.” 

You’re surprised he’s this honest and open with you. You liked Aaron but never really discussed personal matters or anything beyond small talk and things concerning Jack.

“Anyways,” he shrugs casually, licking some spare icing off his finger. Aaron seems to realize what he said and visibly cringes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of that on you.”

“No, no you’re not, that sucks. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.” You’re not really sure what to say that could make Aaron feel better. You’re in grad school, you’re not an FBI agent and barely know what his job entails. “Well,” you continue, “I know Jack is very happy to have you here.”

Aaron grin at the mention of his son, “Thank you for doing all of this with him. He absolutely loves it when you come over. I feel bad not spending my birthday with him. It’s not a big deal to me but I know it is to him.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as Aaron leans against the countertop, staring intently at the cake in front of him, lips pursed and obviously internalizing his decision.

“I know Jack is just happy you’re here now, he knows how hard you work and he doesn’t hold that against you. All day he was just excited to talk about you and your birthday. You do your job and balance it with being a great dad.” Your words pour out truthfully and Aaron’s lips curl into a smile as you continue. “Plus, I’m always happy to spend time with Jack, he’s such a sweet kid.”

Aaron’s smile doesn’t falter and you’re happy that your words seem to resonate with him. Aaron’s gaze continues to linger on you, his mouth opens to speak, choosing his words carefully before hurried footsteps make him stop what he’s about to say.

“Look!” Jack’s voice rings out, “I forgot these,” he runs into the kitchen and Aaron watches him wearily, not wanting him to slip.

“This!” Jack shoves more birthday cards he made into Aaron’s hands, climbing onto a barstool near the counter to be next to the standing two of you. “I made this one for you and Y/n helped with this one!”

Aaron turns over the pink construction paper as some of the excess glitter rubs off onto his hands. “Wow, This is so beautiful, thank you, buddy,”

Jack grins and watching his dad happily and you suddenly feel like you’re intruding on an intimate family moment.

“Well, I guess I should get going, it’s getting late.” You start with a small smile and Jack frowns. 

“But you have to eat the cake we made!” He cries, tugging on his father’s arm and looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can’t Y/n stay?”

“Of course, in fact since you helped, then I think you should.” Aaron turns to you, smiling knowingly. 

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too, but you’re still hesitant. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

Aaron’s hand grazes across your forearm, “Of course you’re not,” he frowns. “You’ve helped us so much, you’re never intruding in the Hotchner home.” 

You laugh and look into Aaron’s sweet and pretty eyes. It was so easy to let yourself imagine being with Aaron, loving him even more than you do now. 

“Let’s eat the cake!” Jack decides for you, pulling you from your thoughts and laughing as Aaron cuts it unevenly. 

It’s definitely not the most delicious thing you’ve ever had, very rich and kind of loop sided, but it has heart.

You watch as Aaron feeds Jack cake and occasionally wipes crumbs and icing off his chin and inner corners of his mouth. 

You eat your own piece, listening as Jack retells a story to Aaron about school. You watch Aaron look at Jack with so much love and attention and note how Jack’s eyes totally light up while talking to his father.

Jack turns to you after a while, giggling, “you have icing on your chin!” He mumbles, “cute.” You feel your cheeks flush with heat as Aaron chuckles and you attempt to rub the icing off.

“Daddy, get it off of Y/n too,” Jack says as Aaron moves closer to you.

“Here,” he mutters, tongue poking out in concentration, “it’s right- here.” His finger wipes at your cheek swiftly and you mutter a quiet thanks.

Your cheek feels hot to the touch as Aaron pulls away slowly, eyes still not leaving yours, and Jack resumes his sweet story.

-

“Thank you really, this is the best birthday I’ve had in awhile.” Aaron says as you both stand at his doorway, Jack busy getting ready for bed. “And, honestly, I would love for you to come back more.”

“Me too,” you say quietly. You both are silent and suddenly it’s hard to make eye contact with Aaron as you focus in on his shoulder instead. 

When you finally meet his gaze, he leans closer to you and breathes in before his lips are suddenly on yours. He tastes like the sicky sweet, blue icing as you move closer to him, meeting him halfway.

It lasts for only a few more seconds before he pulls away with wide eyes. “I’m, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing the nape of his neck nervously. 

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” you say, “that was fine.” You smile, “actually I really liked it. It was— um, way more than fine.”

“Uh-,” Aaron completely forgets what he was going to say and feels like he’s talking to a high school crush. it’s been so long since he’s dated or even thought about dating; thought about kissing someone. 

You’re young and sweet and kind to Jack- that was the most important thing to him, how you interacted with Jack. You took care of him and made him feel so loved when Aaron wasn’t home. You took so much pressure off of Jess to be available constantly. Finding you to babysit Jack changed so much, and Aaron wanted it to secretly change even more. 

“What I said about coming back- I meant, I just. you know, babysitting. Of course. We love you. You know- like babysitting wise” Aaron looks frustrated, like he can’t easily articulate his feelings. 

“Of course,” you smile softly, trying to navigate the rush of complicated feelings that swarm inside of you. 

“I just really like you,” Aaron finally admits. “I was so worried these past few months and I just.” He stops himself to look up at you with a bit lip, looking nervous. “I just love how great you are with Jack, you’re understanding, kind, and he’s so comfortable with you. That’s so important to me.”

Aaron stops himself from rambling. “Anyways,” he laughs, “obviously I’m very out of practice with things like this. But,” he trails off. “I was thinking if you wanted to, we could go on our own date and we can even bring Jack.”

You’re stunned by his admission but find yourself smiling immediately, words leaving your mouth before you can even register them. “I would really like, love, that.”

Aaron looks relieved and immediately beams. “Me too,” he mutters, his voice soft and sweet as his hand slides out of his pocket to interlace his fingers with yours. He looks like he’s about to kiss you again until Jack comes bounding into the doorway, making you let you of Aaron’s hand quickly as Jack clings onto his father’s leg. 

“Night night y/n!” he smiles sweetly, already changed into his dinosaur pajamas, holding a stuffed giraffe in his arm. 

Jack only breaks away from his dad momentarily to hug you. “I wish you could stay forever,” he murmurs, looking up at you with a jutted out lip and big eyes that you never want to say no to. It doesn’t help that you feel that exact same way as Jack. 

“I told Y/n to come back whenever they want,” Aaron adds, making Jack squeal with excitement.

“I can’t wait for you to come back!” Jack squeezes you tightly one last time and Aaron smiles widely, looking at you knowingly, “Me too.”

[tommykinard217]

This Thing Between Us

Pairing: Detective/ Mason

Rating: T

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Summary: In the aftermath of the botched ritual, Marcus and Mason share a moment together

AO3 link

Fic will also be posted under the cut if you prefer to read on here! I hope you enjoy!

Marcus was exhausted in a way that felt like no matter how much rest he got, he'd never be able to quite shake it. It's been hours after the events in the forest. After Li-Sar and…whatever he did to Marcus. The energy that had been crackling under his skin seemed to settle, at least a little, but that wasn't enough to placate the Agency. They had decided that it was best to keep Marcus at the facility to more closely monitor the strange magic pulsing in his veins, and to see if they could figure out the how and why's of said magic's existence.

That all made sense to Marcus, and he agreed, but that didn't mean he didn't want his own bed. That didn't mean he wanted any of this to have happened in the first place. Especially considering what he had done.

Mason had been pretty insistent that the wound that still hadn't healed wasn't Marcus's fault, and that he trusted that Marcus wouldn't do it again.

And he wouldn't. Marcus would rather die than hurt Mason again, in any capacity.

But that didn't change the possibility that something could happen outside of his control. He didn't know anything about controlling magic, or even having magic at all. And now he had to learn how to control and navigate one of the few magics that could seriously hurt the people he loved.

Marcus threw his head back onto the firm pillow, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how the hell things ended up like this.

“You doing okay, handsome?” Mason's voice came from the doorway, where he was leaning against the now open frame. Marcus had been so distracted by his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard Mason open the door.

“Doing as okay as one can, I guess.” Marcus had shrugged, not exactly sure how else to answer. His lips had thinned in worry as he looked Mason over, noticing the bandage wrapping Mason's arm and hiding the wound from view. “I'm more worried about you.”

Mason rolled his eyes, walking closer before deciding to sit down in the chair next to his bed. “We're not doing this again. You're not going to hurt me again. I'm fine.”

Marcus sighed, a wet sound almost stuck in his throat. “I wish I had your confidence.” He said, voice almost trembling with emotion. “I don't know how to control any of this. I reached out for you, and you got hit by…whatever the hell this magic is.” He could still see the searing wound in his mind, burnt into his memories. “Am I supposed to just never touch you again?”

Mason rolled his eyes, acting way too unbothered by the situation. “Yeah, that's not going to happen. I trust you, handsome. You gotta trust yourself too.”

Trust. The mere thought made his throat choke up with more emotions. He knew trust was hard to come by when it came to Mason, and sure Marcus knew that trust was there after everything they'd been through, but to hear it from the vampire himself…it was something Marcus would cherish.

“I know,” he eventually relented, “but you can't blame me for being worried. I don't even know exactly what Li-Sar did to me back in that clearing. What if the solar magic is the least of it?” Marcus said, watching as Mason moved to grab his hand, playing with his fingers absentmindedly. He wondered if Mason was doing it as if to say ‘see? I'm touching your hand right now and I haven't gotten blasted’. Or maybe Mason wasn't even really thinking about the action and just did it. Either way, the sweetness of the gesture made Marcus's heart swell with a never ending fondness.

“What the hell even happened with that Li-Sar guy anyways? I know you said you don't remember much, but…” he trailed off, but Marcus knew what he was getting at. Maybe now that time has passed, and Marcus was (relatively) calm, he'd be able to remember more important details.

“It's still a little blurry in my head, honestly. It was all rather surreal.” Marcus started, biting his lip gently as he tried to recall any important details he might have missed. “Ostin did the ritual, Li-Sar materialized, and then he…” Marcus trailed off, not exactly knowing how to explain that this incredibly powerful being was free from his centuries long imprisonment and his first action was to flirt with Marcus.

“He what, handsome?” Mason said, tense, as if the answer might have him springing out of his seat to find Li-Sar in seconds. Marcus squeezed Mason’s hand once, gently, before continuing.

“He flirted with me? Which sounds ridiculous, I know-” A low almost growl-like sound left Mason's throat, his eyebrows drawn in clear irritation. Marcus frowned at the reaction, confused, but pressed on. “-but he did. Said I was ‘tempting’.” Marcus let out a small laugh at that. It was simply his blood that was tempting, he knew it, but there was something almost comical about some ancient powerful being finding Marcus of all people ‘tempting’.

“He's not wrong. Don't like that he agrees though.” There was a weird tone to Mason's voice, one Marcus couldn't exactly place.

“Unfortunately, I can't help that my blood is apparently a supernatural siren call.” Marcus shrugged, the movement jostling Mason a little bit, who looked up in bemusement.

“You sure he meant the blood, handsome?” Mason had asked him, still absentmindedly playing with Marcus's fingers. Marcus nearly sighed at the sweet gesture and sight, but suppressed it, choosing to focus on Mason’s question.

“I mean, like I said, he was flirting, but I have no clue if it's just because he wants my blood for whatever reason or if he wants the whole, uh, package, so to speak. Not that I'm particularly happy with either option, especially considering he barbecued a man right in front of me.” Marcus couldn't help but wince as he remembered Ostin’s charred and battered remains. “Regardless of Ostin trying to attack me, that felt…excessive.”

Mason's brows furrowed, processing everything just said. “Can't say he didn't get what he deserved, but we need to find this guy. I hate the idea of him lurking around, waiting to get to you.”

Marcus just sighed in response, moving so that there was room on the bed for Mason, hoping he'd get the hint. Mason did, immediately moving onto the bed with ease, pulling Marcus into his arms immediately. Neither really needed the comfort, or the closeness. But it was nice. It was right. How it should be.

“I'm not exactly thrilled about that thought either.” Marcus hesitated, hand moving to play with Mason's hair like he'd been wanting to since that morning, before things went to shit. After a moment of internal debate, he decided to go for it, hand gently sinking into the soft waves. Mason seemed to relax even deeper into their embrace, but his gaze was still fixed on where his and Marcus's other hand was still intertwined. “Especially considering he thinks he has some sort of claim on me.”

Mason's eyes snapped up to Marcus's in that instance, all of the tension that had been released from their embrace and from Marcus playing with his hair immediately snapped back into place. “What?”

Marcus blinked at Mason, somewhat bewildered by his reaction before realizing that no, he hadn't mentioned that before. “Oh, yeah. After what he did to Ostin, he said that it was because he went after what was his. I questioned that, and then he said that I wasn't his yet, but that I would be. And then he did whatever the hell it was that gave me solar magic.” He shuddered at the memory, both because of Li-Sar’s words and because of the pain he had gone through. That was definitely something he hoped he wouldn't have to experience again.

Mason's arm tightened its hold around Marcus, as if Li-Sar was on his way right now to rip them apart, his expression shuttered with an expression Marcus couldn't quite place. Then, a smirk, with not as much heat or heart as his usual ones, took its place. “He'll have to get in line, I think.” Marcus knew he was trying to deflect, rather than mean it with any true flirtation, the roughness in his voice and the tenseness in his body an indicator that he was much more bothered by the turn of conversation than he wanted to show.

“Yeah? And you're at the front of this line?” And thus, Marcus himself decided to deflect too. And maybe try to get a glimpse into whatever the hell was building between them.

Mason scoffed, bringing Marcus's hand up to his mouth. Not quite touching with his lips, but close enough for his breath to fan against the skin, goosebumps rising at the feeling. “I should be the only one in line, handsome.”

The words caused Marcus's heart to skip a beat, the intensity in Mason's eyes piercing through him. He licked his lips reflexively, and Mason's eyes tracked the movement like a hawk, darkening with an all too familiar want.

“You're the only one I'd want to be in line, you know that.” Mason did know that, right? That despite them not having slept together or even kissed, that he was the only one Marcus wanted. It was obvious. Even if Mason only wanted sex from him, it was evident that Marcus foolishly hoped for more. Love, sex, he was greedy for the man next to him. Mason had to know that.

Mason stared at him, grey eyes burning into brown, a severity in them that Marcus couldn't hope to decipher. “Is that so, handsome? You've got an interesting way of showing it.” Marcus frowned slightly, confused. He'd made it clear what he wanted from Mason from the get go. It wasn't his fault Mason wanted less, or at least, that he refused to acknowledge that he wanted more.

“You know what I want, Mason.” He said softly, hand slipping out of Mason’s grip and moving to cup the other man's face. Mason immediately sunk into the action, eyes flickering closed for a moment before focusing back on Marcus. “I'm just here waiting.” He'd always be waiting.

Mason looked like he was about to answer, the tension building between the two of them, but the second he opened his mouth, another voice broke through the quiet.

“So what's all this then?” Felix said, a mischievous tone in his voice as he stood in the door frame. Marcus couldn't help but laugh as Mason growled at Felix, who was, as usual, completely unbothered. “Don't tell me I walked in right before things were getting good.” As if Felix didn't have super hearing and didn't know exactly what they were discussing, but Marcus figured they were needed for something, so unfortunately their conversation had to continue at another time. If there was even going to be another time.

Marcus had a sneaking suspicion that this whole business with Li-Sar was going to make moments alone like this an impossibility, and Felix’s next words had immediately proven that suspicion correct.

“We've apparently got a lead on where that Li-Sar guy went, so they need you both for the debriefing.”

The two had shared a look, one of frustration and resignation, but also determination. They'd figure this out. All of this. Li-Sar. This thing between them. They'd figure it out.

Right?

[lastweeksshirttonight]

Did you want my notes on Strike Force Five episode one? No? TOO BAD! YOU'RE GETTING THEM!

(Heavy spoilers for episode 1 if you plan on listening soon!)

- I love the show's overall vibe and the "roles" that all of the guys play. It's definitely a free-wheeling, off the rails kind of show, where everyone is rambling over each other; the personalities involved can make or break this kind of podcast, and everyone thankfully is playing to their strengths.

Kimmel serves as the overall show runner and is seemingly the only one endeavoring to keep anything on track, which is a slightly thankless job with this group, but he's got a soundboard and all his radio experience guiding him. Colbert also leans into being the other "elder statesman", as it were, but is much easier to derail (and provides his own episode eclipsing derail I'll talk about later). Fallon is surprisingly reserved and a bit awkward - I'm not the hugest fan of Fallon, but in this podcast, that energy serves him pretty well. Kimmel introduces Seth as "the cute one" and he seems the most neutral so far, just there to ask questions and crack jokes. And John is their super sarcastic "evil teammate" who occasionally interjects to just destroy everyone. Perfect dynamics, 10/10, no notes.

- Seth qualifies his eyes as ocean blue. John says they're Gatorade blue. I don't think I've ever laughed harder at a description of someone's eyes.

- There's a point where I assume there must have been a really blunt edit, because Fallon changes the topic abruptly to having a doctorate. Otherwise, I love the image of Fallon just sitting on that revelation and WAITING, BURSTING to talk about how he has a doctorate, while everyone else talks about Kimmel getting paid summers off.

- Everyone mention multiple times that they have sponsors and are doing this show to help pay their staff during the strikes, which is lovely. This does not mean they aren't taking the piss out of their sponsors. I never thought I'd hear worse ad copy reading than I do on The Jeff Gerstmann Show (I love Jeff, don't get me wrong, but his ad copy screaming is hilariously bad), but the Casamigos ad in this is something else. John spends most of his reading time shitting on a bleeped-out competitor that he calls "not fit for human consumption", Stephen says "you're gonna wanna wipe your ass with it" and likens it to the smoothness of sheets you make love on, there's a disembodied "woo" at some point, Seth stumbles all over a few Spanish words, and Fallon delivers his lines in his awful fake French Timothee Chalamet puppet voice. It's pure chaos and I love it so much.

- Kimmel referring to "the despicable Matt Damon" made me so happy.

- John has never done a deposition. Kimmel saying "I'm surprised you're not in prison" gets lost which is sad, that's a fucking hilarious joke.

- Fallon tells an amazing story about his mom being a nun for a week. She left after being reprimanded for taking Lifesavers into the nunnery and then left. My late aunt and best friend, who was also a nun, probably would have loved Jimmy's mom, as she was always going on wine tastings and picked the order she joined entirely based on who would let her continue to drink after taking her vows. Jimmy also has a picture of his mom dressed as a nun holding a doll dressed as a nun, which is absurd and adorable.

- This leads to everyone but Seth confessing that they'd all thought about becoming priests at some point. That doesn't shock me about Stephen at all, tbf, knowing how religious he is.

- I have to shamefully admit that when John mentioned that he told his father he wanted to be a vicar, my brain went to an extremely Fleabag place and I had to rewind the podcast once I snapped out of it and realized I'd missed like 3 minutes of jokes (including a fantastic one from Seth about John having a doll of himself as a child, like Fallon's mom's nun doll).

- "Don't you want a whole new crop of relatives to visit and entertain?" "Do you wanna get cancelled?! :D" The two Jimmys everyone.

- Stephen reveals who he has everyone saved as in his phone, to prevent people from figuring out who his contacts are if his phone gets stolen. John's is Joliver, which 1) was his name as written on TDS scripts to differentiate him from Jon Stewart, and 2) as everyone points out, is a VERY easy code to crack. Don't really need Sherlock for that one.

- ONE OF US ALERT: Stephen collects weird late night shit, like a hat from The Chevy Chase Show (John literally goes "WOW") and a silk jacket from The Pat Sajak Show. I am very jealous of this collection.

- Next episode everyone will talk about first episodes. I cannot wait to hear John talk about how all over the place his first episode is.

- The big story, running joke, and completely wild admission from this episode - Stephen Colbert has a pair of Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza's pants. Fallon asks how no one outbid him, and it turns out his MOTHER had them BECAUSE SHE DATED HIM. His uncle went to LaSalle Military Academy with Somoza, and Somoza stayed with them during holiday breaks. Everyone else in the room picks up on the idea that Stephen's mom probably slept with a dictator (or as Kimmel says, "made love to a murderer"), Seth claims his mom drinks coffee out of Ferdinand Marcos' skull, and every other male figure Stephen brings up for the rest of the episode is assumed to be someone his mom slept with.

If you asked me before listening to this podcast if I thought there were going to be a pile of elevated "your mom" jokes holding it together, I would have pretty strongly said "no". Surprises at every turn in this pod.

The beginning of this story also captures John SO STRONGLY, and he wants to hear everything about it. Definite Bugle vibes there, this man will never not want to hear about weird dictator facts. He also manages to completely kill Seth by saying "Anastasio Somoza's pants, brought to you by Casamigos".

- Finally, I have already sent an email to the show asking about Planet of the Bass, to make up for my complete failure to ask at the Q&A. I got y'all, we'll get this answer some day.

[mocksart]

for your borrower au! how is Stanley treated in general before the narrator realizes he is sentient? what's the worst thing the narrator might do to Stanley in this time period? what is the softest moment?

sorry for all the questions, I just love this idea a LOT. g/t stuff is SOOO compelling to me :3

Hey, no worries, I love questions! If you can't tell, I also love this idea a lot lol

It is important to me to make it clear that the narrator is not intentionally cruel. He still sees Stanley as a living being with needs and wants.

Stanley is fed well - mostly seeds and grains due to his mouse-like appearance. This isn't wrong, as mice are also omnivores, though it does get a little boring. So basics like food and water are always available.

Of course, he is kept in a cage.

In my head, it's more akin to the ones rabbits are kept in, rather than mice or rats, but that's mostly due to me being more familiar with rabbits. Also the mental image of metal bars is more compelling to me than the plastic tubs that mice are usually kept in.

Standard bedding situation. It's less comfortable than his pile of fabric scraps at home, but it's not unbearable by any means.

The Narrator has a habit of talking to himself, and this turns into a sort of half-talking to Stanley as well. When he does directly address stanley, though, it's usually because he's frustrated with something Stanley is or is not doing. Plus, as in the game, the man is not above petty insults.

I've thought a bit more on it and I think it might be more fair to say that, rather than not realizing, the narrator can't admit that Stanley is sentient.

Subconsciously, he knows. He can see how smart Stanley is. How Stanley responds to his words. But he can't bring that thought into his conscious mind. Because the man has already done some terribly dehumanizing things to this creature. And admitting that this thing is a person would mean that he's an absolute monster. And he's not! Haha really, guys, he wouldnt do that!

The worst thing he does, especially early on, is leave Stanley alone. At one time, the borrower would have jumped at the opportunity to have some time to himself, just not like this. The basement lab is dark and lonely. Being in this environment for long stretches of time takes a toll on the borrower's mental health.

As time goes on, the Narrator does realize something is wrong. Subject 427 used to have so much more energy. It hardly tries to escape and barely protests when handled. He semi-correctly guesses that 427 needs some kind of enrichment.

He has Stanley for a few months before the borrower manages to escape. Toward the end of that time, he starts bringing Stanley up out of the basement (always in a container of some kind) to show the borrower around and talk to him about his old escapades. (This is where we learn that the narrator is quite well-traveled, and that he no longer leaves the relative safety of his own home.) And there are some genuine moments of connection that happen.

---

Much later on the narrator absolutely mortified by his own past behavior. The man never thought he was capable of causing harm like that, much less unthinkingly.

(He doesn't like to talk about it, a fact that Stanley uses to his advantage sometimes to get what he wants.)

The Narrator works hard to redeem himself as best as he can. He knows there's no way to fully make up for what he's done, but he tries anyway. Because underneath all his issues and traumas and poor coping mechanisms is a person who strives to be better. He wants it so badly. But for a long time it seemed like every time he tried, he just made it worse. So he stopped trying.

Being around another person, especially one who was absolutely not taking his bullshit, reawakened that part of himself that had been buried for so long.

[midnightactual]

Kūkaku's Relative Power & Narrative Role

I've mentioned this before, but, really look at this in CFYOW Volume II (emphasis mine):

“I’ve got one thing to say.” Kukaku’s piercing voice resounded, and those who had been making a commotion all stopped at the same time. “This is my house. I don’t mind you being rowdy, but if you’re going to cut each other up then take it outside.” Though her voice was soft, there was an energy in it that indicated she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “That woman’s strong.” “Yes. She doesn’t seem to be a Soul Reaper, but I suppose…I suppose there were some strong people lurking around.” Halibel could comprehend Kukaku’s power through the spiritual pressure in her words, and Nelliel agreed with her. Needless to say, those who knew Kukaku from the start, like Ginjo and the others, became quiet and subdued. The same was true for the Quincies and Corpse Unit. Other than Mayuri Kurotsuchi, that is, who marched to the beat of his own drum.

So, the obvious joke first:

But that Kūkaku is able to put reiatsu in her voice, and that is enough to get Grimmjow & Luppi—aspects of death of destruction—to shut the hell up, as well as enough to make guys like Ginjō "quiet and subdued" (read: submissive and avoidant) tells you a lot, beyond just Tier and Nelliel's judgments.

Now, in the manga, back during chapters 78 and 79, we go from here:

to here:

You can see that her kiseru goes missing. Something like what the anime suggests happens is relatively plausible (and yes I know I just got done talking about the anime being lesser canon):

At any rate, Kūkaku goes on to readily disable both Ganju (whom is giving Ichigo trouble) and Ichigo himself (and by the way, this is much like how Yoruichi often at least initially easily handles people who are giving Ichigo trouble, from Byakuya, to Yammy, to Askin):

Now, this is played for comedy. However, I urge you to recall both Isshin and Retsu, whose strength was also initially played for comedy. I also ask you to remember Tsukishima, who is immensely powerful but often passive. And I'll note that in CFYOW, Ginjō has Tsukishima and Giriko at his disposal and yet all three of them don't even seem to entertain the idea of messing with Kūkaku and put up with whatever she says, both there and in chapter 518:

We know that Bleach already has a Red Oni in Kenpachi:

I would submit to you that, at least figuratively, Kūkaku is something closer to the Blue Oni (yes, I know it's funny when she wears red):

This is especially interesting when Yoruichi is routinely paralleled with Kenpachi and is sometimes a Red Oni herself (and sometimes a Blue Oni):

As I've related a number of times, Japanese loves puns, and the Blue Oni is often associated with being a Kuudere. Well, there's K[uu]kaku. More importantly, we know the Kū of her name, 空, is the Void in the Godai:

空 Kū or sora, most often translated as "Void", but also meaning "sky", "heaven" or environment, it represents those things beyond and within our everyday comprehension, particularly those things composed of pure energy before they manifest; the emptiness that the energy is made up of. Bodily, kū represents spirit, thought and creative energy. It represents the creation of phenomena. It can also be associated with the potential of power, creativity, spontaneity and inventiveness. Kū is of particular importance as the highest of the elements. In martial arts, particularly in fictional tales where the fighting discipline is blended with magic or the occult, one often invokes the power of the Void to connect to the quintessential creative energy of the world. A warrior properly attuned to the Void can sense their surroundings and act without using the mind, and without using their "physical senses".

This would explain why, oh, say, Kūkaku can sense Yoruichi remotely when no one else can. (I would also submit that the Void, the Garganta, is perhaps the opposite of Hell, with which it seems Kenpachi may be associated.) Anyway, going back a little, we can see that Kūkaku's smoking and drinking is perhaps actually a limiter upon and restrictor of her "true" self, which only becomes evident when she's stirred to anger. She's trying to be chill. (Note also that even her "comedic" anger is shocking to Yoruichi.)

Keep in mind that Kūkaku also channels the sun to use the Kakaku Taihō cannon, and that the SRDI can only build a one-shot replica of the cannon which requires dimensional energy to act as fuel. If read in a sci-fi context, Kūkaku functions as the equivalent of a warp core reactor.

Basically, Kūkaku was always implied to be extremely strong, but given the additional context from CFYOW, we can make an educated guess that:

Kūkaku is the Broly of Bleach and you're in danger. I offer you this scene for free:

Whomever: You can't stop me. Yoruichi: I know. Wiping blood from her mouth. But she can after you split my lip. Kūkaku: Bursting out of whatever like Surtur in Thor: Ragnarok.

Or perhaps:

[inspiteofganon]

HEY. TELL ME ABOUT KOURA. i do enjoy divine mommy issues

Koura my pathetic wet cat of a man... my yoinky sploinky...

The short version is that they're my main gerudo OC! I play them in a TTRPG campaign set in the LoZ universe as a player character. They're a cowardly and heretical transmasc gerudo with a lot of issues constantly on the run from their past. They wield a whip Indiana Jones-style, and repress their gerudo equivalent of Catholic Guilt under a free bird lifestyle and bad boy attitude.

The longer version is that them being heretical and them being transgender are the exact same thing* since gerudo men are supposed to be kings (to me the position of "king" for gerudo is a spectrum based on what the voe has proven himself capable of; on the highest end he's a complete autocrat like OoT Ganondorf, and on the low end he's just a figurehead to be kept out of harm's way, but either way it's a position of significant religious and social importance)-- a blessing once a century-- which has meant that Koura has faced a lifetime of beatings and ostracization from their would-be sisters for their repeated crimes of "treating the trappings of a king like a costume".

Once upon a time, during a happier more prosperous era for the gerudo thousands of years ago, the gerudo had more than one voe per century, and their menfolk were thus capable of leading relatively normal lives. Young Koura was a history nerd and came to admire this time period and its possibilities, wanted that sort of thing back in some form... even dared to want a part in it. But that absence is still very much a sore spot for the other gerudo. So it didn't seem to matter that Koura tried to be a "good man", someone who strived to contribute to society, uphold the values of the gerudo, act as a proper voe should, compensate for what they lacked... because they couldn't ever fully compensate. Because their female body could never do everything a cisgender voe's could for them.

Despite all this-- and their rather punkass attitude-- Koura remained loyal and faithful and determined. It didn't matter much that the goddesses never answered them, because they were a gerudo! They just had to prove their worth, right? Prayers and wishes mattered little without actions, so act they did. They'd be a man that the gerudo would deserve. A proper voe takes care of his girls, after all. They'd find their niche in society and give back to it, even if it wouldn't give back to them. Unfortunately, Koura was just some guy. A fallible mortal with human feelings. Being a spunky gender rebel with a punk attitude takes a lot of energy and willpower, and a person can only get so much of those forcibly wrung out of them before they have to shut up or die. Even the stupidest snail retreats to their shell when they're being salted, and Koura eventually "wised up" as it were. They didn't expect any gods or spirits to come down and personally guide them through their darker moments, but it wasn't like anyone else ever came to their defense. The pain and isolation took their toll. Continually swatted back down the social ladder no matter what good they did, Koura was effectively stuffed into the closet. Best they could do was steal all they could when sent on routine banditry missions... as a vai. Their passions and reasons for their efforts had to be kept locked up tight if they wanted to avoid more humiliation.

But one day, they stole something special: An enchanted girdle, a magic belt that was a little small for most gerudo. On a whim, not knowing what it was capable of, they decided to keep hold of it a while longer and try it on. It revealed that it had the power to near-instantly "genderbend" its wearer, granting a perfect sex change so long as it's worn.

Naturally, this made Koura completely ecstatic. For a few minutes. For a brief moment they felt whole, like a miracle had occurred. But then it sank in: It really was a miracle. Sex change magic working properly on gerudo is simply not a thing that normally happens, as they're all already under sex-determining magic. Whether Koura was truly special, or if it was that someone out there had finally just so happened to create powerful enough sex change magic to work on any gerudo, something unprecedented had happened. Not only that, but they were a "real" man now, and to reenter gerudo society in their new body would mean having to face a voe's responsibilities and become a king. However, after a lifetime of making themself smaller and smaller in the hopes of fitting into gerudo society... in completely losing track of where "I just want to be a normal man" ended and "I swear I'm not trying to claim an unearned social status, please don't knock any more of my teeth out!!" began for them... feeling all the big responsibilities and unsavory duties of a modern, kingly voe alight on their shoulder for even a moment crushed them utterly like an ant under a cartoon anvil. They couldn't take it! THEY COULDN'T TAKE IT!! AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!

Shortly after, they made off with the belt, leaving Gerudo Valley and its daughters behind never to return. Something like the girdle Koura possessed could completely reshape gerudo culture, and access to such an artifact would be nothing but a net good for the species as a whole... Koura knew this, but kept it all for themself anyway.

Koura now lives in self-imposed exile, disguising their true race and steering clear of gerudo they pass. They conceal their rounded ears, and painstakingly bleach and dye their hair from the neck up to a shade of pale blue (flaming red hair is a nightmare to recolor, and non-ginger gerudo are scarce, so this does more work for their big racefaking act than you'd think). They're also a bit short for a gerudo at about 1.88m/6'2", so can generally pass as a long, tan humanoid of ambiguously hylian or sheikah descent.

"But what about the 'divine mommy issues'?"

Oh yeah! That's related to what they're going through in the campaign at the moment.

For starts, their story there begins with them losing their girdle, the discovery of this having happened causing a reaction not unlike Gollum losing the One Ring. Leads to recover it brought them to the other party members, and they've generally been feeling weary and wretched without their magic transition device.

Cut to a few weeks into the adventure, the girdle still unfound, and a vision of the Desert Goddess visits Koura in the night. She chides them for abandoning the gerudo and running from their destiny, but what's relevant to the note you ask about is that she calls them her son and uses their chosen name during this little meeting.

As someone for whom social transition in their homeland has been completely off-limits and impossible to safely approach (sure, the people of the nations of Hyrule can see Koura as a man or whatever regardless of the state of their body, but those are lame hylians! The gender isn't the same! They've got more men than they know what to do with, and don't understand the social differences that'd be had in Gerudo Valley's society for a gerudo voe! Also... physical dysphoria), Koura has a lot of mixed feelings about that. After all, them being a "good man" didn't matter much to the gerudo because of their female body. With the belt and away from the gerudo, they're a "bad man", but their body is the "right" one, so having a male body without any of the associated culture should be enough to be happy with, right? RIGHT?! So the goddess herself gendering them properly despite them being in the "wrong" body... man. After all they've been through, all the cruel lessons beat into them that worked... They don't understand. The sentiment towards that small kindness can be summed up most succinctly with just "Why?"

Could go on about their motivations, the subtleties of their gender identity... what standards they have and their goals... how often they leave the belt latched or loose... their personality and fears... but this particular post is getting kind of long so There you have it for now!

*I'M QUEER!!!!!!! If you even think I'm transphobic I'll kill you with a brick!!!!! And your little dog too!!!!!

[somethingclevermahogony]

WIP Questionnaire

I was tagged by @elsie-writes and @illarian-rambling so I am responding to both of you here!

Unfortunately I have a ton of deadlines coming up so I might be posting a bit sparsely for a few days. But I would still love it if y'all continued to send asks and tag games so I have some things to respond to when I get back (on top of the things I already have to respond to!) Rules: Answer as many (or as few) questions as you'd like!

The Testaments of the Green Sea

Questions:

What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

My MC, Narul, I believe was the first concrete part of my world that I created. He started out as this sort of vague character, too big and strong for the world around him, struggling with understanding himself and his place in a world that is so divorced from what it is to be someone like him. The awkward gentle giant is a trope that I just happen to really enjoy. From there I started making a world for him to live in, for a while he lived in the Kingdom of Chisheytal, which later became the City-States of Kishetal, and for a little while I played with the idea that the world of Kobani was actually set in the post-apocalyptic aftermath of a superhero world, and that Narul was in some way related to these ancient superheroes. However as the character and the world progressed, that aspect eventually went away. As far as the world itself goes, Kishetal was definitely the first place to get fleshed out and made into a proper setting.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

Frankly I have no clue. Something acoustic maybe? Something relatively chill. For all the blood and destruction in the story, a lot of it is just about the beauty of the landscape. I think it would have to be something original. But if I had to pick, and this might be a bit of a cheat, all I can think of is the song "The Greatest Adventure" from The Rankin/Bass "Hobbit". I think the themes of Adventure, but also finding purpose in the present and taking chances in your life and the people you love is something that is really central to Narul as a character. When I think of the song, I think of a number of characters like Istek, Penetinos, and The Stranger singing it for Narul and Ninma, sort of as a way to encourage them, to push them forward.

3. Who are your favorite characters you’ve made? Why?

First and foremost of course is Narul. As a bigger, not necessarily conventionally attractive guy who used to (and to some extent still) struggled with socialization and my own sexuality, I feel like I've written a lot of myself into him as a character. Narul is more expressive than me, particularly when it comes to things like grief and frustration, and so I enjoy using him as a way of addressing some of those issues from sort of another medium. Unfortunately I've made the poor fella an anxious wreck.

Istek is the polar opposite to Narul. He is free and happy, and is able to grapple with and fully embrace powerful emotions in a way that I wish I could. His grasp on life and purpose and love, are things that I wish I could emulate. His energy is a lot of fun to write whether as the daring sea captain or as the forgetful old man.

Ninma is fun, just because writing a little bratty child character is a lot of fun. She has next to no filter, and that's just fun to translate into the story.

Zatar and the Deep Sun are up there just because villains are fun to write about. Lots of violence and angst.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fanbase for your story?

I'm not entirely sure! I hope there would be overlap with the fan bases for other epic fantasy series, LOTR, Wheel of Time, Etc etc. In some ways I can see a little bit of overlap with Percy Jackson fans if only because of the shared connection/inspiration from ancient mythology. Aside from that I'm not entirely sure, to be honest I'm not all that active in a lot of fan bases so it's hard to say for sure.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Editing! I make constant typos and I brain dump. Editing is such a slow and boring process and one that is made even worse by the fact that I am currently working on getting a Masters Degree and so much of my time is dedicated to papers and research.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

There are some, there are a good deal of animals that are unique to my setting. However I wouldn't say that animals are necessarily important to the plot, at least not in the first book. You do see horned-rabbits, Flesh-eating Deer, sea-serpents, birds, livestock, etc etc. There are no pets or anything like that. I don't count spirits with animalistic forms.

7. How do your characters get around?

Walking, boats, and horses. Nothing all that exciting.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

I am in the process of editing my second draft for book one and I have started on book two. Right now I'm not doing much of anything, finals season doesn't particularly allow for a lot of heavy writing/editing.

9. What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

I think worldbuilding will certainly be a big part of what draws people in, but I also hope that people will  enjoy the found-family aspect and will be really drawn in by all of the side characters that interact with Narul and Ninma.

And if that fails, there is lots of blood, violence, monsters, adventuring, magic, and queer romance.

What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

If your story was a TV show, what would the intro song be?

Who are your favorite characters you’ve made? Why?

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fanbase for your story?

What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

How do your characters get around?

What part of your WIP are you working on right now?

What aspects of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Tagging @scribble-dee-vee , @patienceofstone , @americanfemcel , @hallowedfury , and @patternwelded-quill as well as any one else that is interested!

[twilightmalachite]

Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 12

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika, Kuro, Nazuna

Translator: Mika Enstars

"(Now, Kagehira, let us lie.)"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Raison d'être Stage

Kuro: Either is fine. It’s odd t’see ya so quiet, Gramps. Back then I had the impression that you’d always be spittin’ and yellin’ at me.

Raffaello: “Because I don’t have the energy to make a fuss. That, and my emotions dilute when they are passed through a machine.”

“But that’s beside the point. It’d be both uncouth and meaningless for you to directly ask me for the answer to your questions.”

“The answer is shown on stage by Shu-kun.”

“Take a seat quietly for now, instead of making a commotion. You have poor manners, you know. Your figure blocks the view of the person sitting behind you.”

Kuro: Ah, right… Hahah, it’s been a while since I last got a scoldin’ from ya, Gramps.

Raffaello: “I do not mind a little bit of whispered banter. Opera has been like that since ancient times, although it is a culture Japan is unfamiliar with.”

Kuro: Understood. However, this may be uncouth of me t’say, but I'm kinda dumb…

I won’t be able t’interpret an answer from a complicated opera, could’ja tell me the important bits?

Raffaello: “……”

Kuro: Ah, if ya could tell me. Please.

Raffaello: “Yes. Do speak respectfully to those above you. Law, God, and common sense too have declared it to be obsolete now, but there’s more beauty in it.”

“It is foolish to lump together everything old as no good and throw them away like garbage.”

Nazuna: He really does talk like Itsuki, huh~… Well, I guess Itsuki is really influenced by his grandpa’s values and such, though.

Raffaello: “Yes. So what was it you’d like to ask, Kuro-kun?

Kuro: Yessir. Though I’m at a loss on where to begin… So, were ya ever havin’ an affair in the end, Gramps?

Y’know, with that strange woman called “MADEMOISELLE”?

Raffaello: “To put it shortly, that would be non.”

“But from what I’ve seen in this opera’s proposal, however, it appears Shu-kun and Kagehira-kun have a different, or rather, a unusual interpretation—

“The truth of the matter is, the woman named “MADEMOISELLE” does not exist. That too is subject to interpretation however, but there is no human being of flesh and blood with a family register.”

“Such is why she was not even given a name, and instead was earnestly given the nickname “MADEMOISELLE”. She is a fictional, non-existent person.”

Nazuna: So far, Itsuki’s guess has been correct.

Then, does that mean that all of it was just grandpa’s joke, it was all made up?

Wait, but then what would be the point of that? Itsuki and I just assumed this Raffaello guy was just trying to con out of his inheritance…

But then, that Raffaello was actually just grandpa himself. If he wanted the inheritance, there wouldn’t be any need to pull off something so absurd.

Kuro: He wouldn’t even have to go through the trouble of stealin’ it. The inheritance is already his property, it belonged to Gramps from the very start.

Nazuna: Right. In other words, that means, uhhh? What does it mean? I’m confused!

Nazuna: —Hweh?!

Kuro: W-What’s wrong, Nito!? Did’ja bite your tongue?

Nazuna: N-No, Itsuki just gave me a huge glare from the stage that yelled “quiet!” because I was loud~… For some reason even now he’s able to get it across to me even without saying anything out loud.

Kuro: Haha. Rabbits have sharp senses, don’t they?

Shu: (Goodness, that Nito.)

(Back while he was in Valkyrie, we had watched many operas and the like together. Even though I had drilled the etiquette into him, it appears it’s all been bleached away.)

(Ryuu~-kun, however, I never expected good etiquette from him to begin with.)

(And he’s all anxious, not knowing when my ever-trifling Grandfather might raise his voice at him.)

(Well, it’s fine. As an easygoing performance performed only in front of relatives, I don’t demand strict viewing etiquette.)

“—This tale is set in Paris, the city of flowers.”

“There, “Boku” met a beautiful girl.”

“A very assertive, selfish, shrewd lady—”

“♪~♪~♪”

(Now, Kagehira, let us lie.)

(In honor of my beloved Grandfather.)

Mika: (Okay, Oshi-san.)

(And at the same time, so we can show your Grandfather what he truly seeks.)

“~…♪”

Shu: (Now, let us begin our performance as Valkyrie, as we always have.)

(Let us sift away all the filth and carry only the beautiful and the valuable to heaven.)

(This is a comedy too funny, a tragedy too sad… Let us refine it into a beautiful opera!)

(To many people, this is just another love story. The sort of trivial romantic comedy we do not typically work with.)

(But I’m sure it’ll get through to Grandfather.)

(By thinking it through, the true meaning of this opera, that is.)

Shu: (Fufu. Now it’s your turn to use your head, Grandfather.)

[ ☆ ]

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[vixen525noms]

Defying Certain Death Part 8

Copied from my DeviantArt account, a non-sexual G/T vore story featuring adults along the lines of the lion and the thorn fable. There will be tons of hurt/comfort aspects, lots of safe vore. That is the primary focus in this.

Barrett is and adult giant standing 85ft tall and Hope is an adult human at 5ft 6. Barrett does not eat children at any point.

Warnings: Unwilling Prey; Safe Vore; Soft Vore; Characters in Distress

Future: While this part is relatively tame, future parts include fatal vore and violence. Barrett, the giant, is not a good guy, so will be doing some occasional bad things.

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He felt the girl squirming and fighting as she made the trip down, and he continued to purr. He was quite familiar with those struggles, it was common for his kind to have live prey, some even liked the feel of the fighting and squirming from the frightened prey. When she dropped to the bottom of the stomach he sighed, beyond glad to have the feeling of something in his belly. With the protection spell to keep her safe, to prevent damage and digestion, it was more or less just an illusion of having food... but he didn’t care. Just losing that feeling of desperation helped significantly. 

He rested a hand over his stomach, able to feel the frightened girl panicking, trying to figure out how to climb or escape. He knew she wouldn’t listen while panicking like this, so he would have to wait until she stilled a bit. Since she was in poor shape as well, she tired out quickly, the adrenaline from fear burning out quickly and leaving her without any energy. Once she wasn’t moving as much, when he knew she was more likely to hear him, he started to speak softly. “Don’t worry, little one. You’re safe... Like I told you before, there’s a protection spell. You won’t be harmed. I am sorry... but there wasn’t any food. I couldn’t get to the wild sheep, and I have no idea how long it will take to find something else. I promise I’ll get you back out as soon as I find something to eat. I’m just going to take a little time to get cleaned up, and then I’ll start trying to find something again. You won’t be in there long, and you’re perfectly safe.”

He listened silently a moment, hoping for a response. He knew the protection spell would keep her safe, but he would prefer to have some sort of confirmation that she was fine. He sighed as he lowered his hand, realizing she wasn’t going to respond. He removed his clothing and knelt down, starting to wash the dirt from the fabric. When he leaned over to better work on the clothing, he felt the girl move as the change in angle sent her tumbling to a new spot. She cried out in surprise and he froze, listening in case she spoke. When there was still no comment from her, he went back to cleaning off his clothing.

Once he had finished cleaning up his clothing and himself, he dressed despite the slight chill from them not yet being dry, and started heading down the mountain. He decided to try to get a response from the girl, talking to her, “You know, I don’t think we ever exchanged names. We’ve talked about a great many things, but I don’t think that came up.” He paused as he finally heard a response from her, glad to have better confirmation that she was alright. However, he wasn’t that happy with her response. “I... didn’t see a point. I figured as soon as you were free... well you wouldn’t need my help anymore.”

He sighed, a touch depressed by her answer. He knew Syors like him were known for eating humans, but she actually believed that her work to save him would have no meaning? They may be predators, even seen as monsters... but they weren’t animals. Not just some wild beast. They still knew honor, knew that some circumstances required exceptions. And owing someone your life was such a circumstance. “While it is true that I no longer need your help for survival... You saved my life, and that has meaning to me. I owe you greatly... I intend to see to your safety, little one. How about I start? I’m Barrett.”

He waited for a moment, listening to learn the name of the one who saved him. He was a bit surprised at the length of the silence, and had just started to speak up again when she replied, “Li...” “You’ll laugh.” He frowned, confused by this unusual statement. “Excuse me?” There was a brief hesitation before she spoke again, “You’ll laugh... If I tell you my name, you’ll laugh.” “I don’t see why. It’s just a name.” He started to walk again, moving quickly to leave the mountain to seek better hunting. “Shouldn’t the fact I want to learn your name make it clear I don’t want you hurt?” “I... I’m starting to see that... but... you’ll still laugh at my name...” 

Barrett paused briefly, sighing, “It’s just your name, something to call you by that’s a bit more polite than things like ‘little one.’ Come on, why would I laugh at your name?” She was hesitant to reply to his question, feeling very certain he’d laugh. Not that it was a name that always got laughed at, but rather this particular situation would make it humorous. She didn’t like the idea of him laughing at her name, but she also knew he probably wouldn’t drop the topic so easily. “I figured you’d laugh because... Because my name is Hope.”

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[cherry-pop-soda]

okay ive been enabled, time to be unhinged!!

review/my ramblings underneath the cut B)

okay so before i go into the actual plot i just need to talk about the narrator. hes this weird pink thing, god only knows what animal hes supposed to be. a pig?? a weird bear?? a cat?? i have no clue.

anyways hes voiced by the guy who made the whole film, and i dont really understand why his character is necessary because the story isnt any less confusing and insane with him interjecting and trying to explain.

starting in on the story, we have our main man Joshua.

hes a kid with a pretty shit family who argues constantly and yells at him for nothing. his father is immediately characterized and scary and aggressive, and his mom is just mean. joshua’s parents argue and then yell at him, so he goes to his room feeling down and falls asleep.

then this weird creature shows up??? i have NO IDEA what hes supposed to be but he just. clips through the ceiling and materializes out of thin air.

he introduces himself as Christopher Andrew Eugene Barzione, or just chris. hes a fucking weirdo who says red flag things the entire time. anyways rven though hes a complete stranger he convinces joshua to trust him, takes joshua by the arm and flies off like? out of the space time continuum or something?? and just somehow ends up at the time of the bible story in which moses is leading the jewish people out of egypt. then chris just fucking?? puts joshua into the body of the biblical joshua??? so joshua, a child, is literally now possessing the body of an adult man in ancient egypt.

at this point they go through the parting of the red sea, and joshua, who is again, a child in the body of a grown ass man, probably collects a shitton of trauma as he watches the red sea close back up and drown a bunch of people.

they continue through the biblical story, and joshua becomes moses’ right hand man. i should mention moses looks like this.

also no, thats not a giant chin, thats a really poorly rendered beard. i cant unsee it as a chin but i swear its supposed to be a beard.

theres also a battle scene where joshua is chosen to lead the people into battle with another nation, which is insane to me on numerous levels because for one thing i cannot wrap my mind around how nobody questioned that joshua, a grown man, has the voice of like a 9 year old boy. but anyways joshua collects even more trauma as he goes into battle and absolutely destroys a ton of people, murdering them willingly despite literally being a child.

continuing on, i think i’ll also mention that in the part of the biblical story in which the people start worshipping a golden calf and moses punishes them, in the bible he actually has them all slaughtered, and in this film he melts down the statue and makes them drink the gold. it makes sense to take out the slaughtering to not freak kids out but idk, drinking gold wouldve freaked me out just as bad as a kid, its making me cringe now. but idk i digress i just think its odd.

oh and ALSO before i go on. when moses gets the ten commandments he takes joshua with him but then just leaves joshua on the side of the mountain they climbed for forty days??? which i know is not weird if you know the bible story, but also, its important to remember joshua is in like. some undefined weird dream state this entire time. so hes basically having an insanely long dream, and it gets even longer, but we’ll get there.

so moving on eventually they get to the promised land, a city called Jericho. but theres already people living there, and joshua gets sent to scope the place out. he sees the people there sacrifice a baby, and later chris weirdly convinces him that this is a reason to have the whole population destroyed, because what they did was against god. and i do have to say that objectively, sacrificing a baby is a very weird and bad thing to do, but also, these people were in this city just living their lives without even knowing the ten commandments existed. so theyre essentially about to get completely obliterated from existence for disobeying a commandment they had no idea existed.

also, i need to mention that all the people of jericho look like this.

and so the biblical story continues, and the people carry this box with the ten commandments inside it around the outside of Jericho six times, and then stop. for some reason this makes the jericho people laugh, ig because they think these other peoples’ god is pathetic. but as theyre laughing, these massive fucking angels appear behind them. wait let me put images

yeah so these guys appear with gigantic hammers and just completely obliterate the whole city with all the people still inside.

and after this the other people cant even move in not just because its destroyed, but also because god got mad at all of them and condemned them to live in the desert forever, saying only joshua would enter the “promised land”.

joshua becomes the leader and is completely like. indoctrinated into playing the role of the grown ass man he is still possessing.

theres also? this one part where the narrator appears and says some things but then hes like? “thats my cue” and just fucking reverse breaks the fourth wall and goes INTO the story, turns into an angel, comes up to joshua, and joshua is like. “what message does the lord have for me” and literally all the other guy says is “the land you are standing on is holy” or something close to that and thats just. it. and the scene abruptly ends after that.

but anyways shortly after that chris comes back and he takes joshua back to his real life. funnily enough, when he took joshua off on the weird dream thing, he promised joshua he’d get him back in time for dinner, but when they come back, joshua is late for dinner and chris is literally just like “its not my fault” even though it absolutely is his fault.

ONE FINAL THING. when jericho gets destroyed, the weird devil head from way up on this post materializes and when joshua is transported back to his real life, the devil thing follows him. and joshua has to FIGHT SATAN WITH A FAKE WOODEN SWORD IN HIS BEDROOM. and somehow he succeeds and the devil head thing turns into rocks, and the rocks just disintegrate like sand, and then the whole thing is just over. it is so abrupt and so weird.

coming to the end, joshua’s parents are still arguing when he comes in for dinner, but after he sits down they suddenly just 180 and completely change their tune and start apologizing to each other and to joshua for being shitty. and thats the end of the 55 minute long, poorly animated fever dream!

i honestly summarized very fast to keep this post from being a bajillion miles long, but truly what ive said and the screenshots ive added dont even cover this movie. you need to just experience it. i did not even get into the sound in this film whatsoever because its just. you just need to watch it and hear for yourself how bad it is. its comically bad.

i highly recommend watching an actual movie review on it so you can hear what it genuinely sounds like. i definitely recommend ted nivison’s video on it, i found it insanely funny and it covers a lot of stuff i couldnt really cover well in the format of a text post.

but thats been my ramble :^)

i think my new hyperfixation is watching the absolute worst animated films i can possibly find

[thekinkyleopard]

Why Me?

An Alistar x Draeko Sick Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Sexual Tension, Snz, Sick, Fluff, Slight Angst

Author’s Notes: Hi guys! Been awhile since I’ve posted something, so sorry! I was pet sitting for the week and let’s just say those dogs would not let me have a moment of peace. 😭😭😭 I’m going to try to get a bunch done this week, as I’ll probably have more overnights at the end of this month to do. 🥲 So honestly, me and Geezie love Al x Drae’s relationship, so I thought I’d do a one shot of Al taking care of Drae. :>

Description: Al is stuck babysitting the sickly mutt, instead of enjoying a day of leisure. Can he contain himself against the mutt’s kitten like sneezing??

“Luciftias…I don’t want to go without you…I should be here, rubbing your leaking face holes with soft mulched tree sheets…” The grey skinned man looked somberly down at the sniffling, and stifling mutt. The mint and pink themed boy met his gaze with the other and tried to muster up the softest smile he could through tear stained cheeks and a reddened nose.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be better in no time but you can’t miss this….these divers are experts and they don’t tour out here often…” doing whatever he could to convince the hound not to miss out on such an opportune moment to learn about the ocean. Something not many got to.

“How will I know how to act? Or what to do? I need you there…” Kanai almost whimpered, feeling slightly a miss without the mutt coming with him. They’d been inseparable since they met, and this would be the real challenge. Trying to blend into a human setting without his …relatively…human guide. Drae tried to muster up the energy to giggle, shaking his head softly back and forth.

“You got this, okay? I’ll be here healing, you go learn! Text me if you need to, remember I showed you how to do that right?”

“Yes…okay…well…I can’t leave you to fend for yourself….” He considered for a moment what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. When suddenly it hit him. “I know,” his face beamed brightly, in aura, his expression mostly lay flat, either way it was something that didn’t happen too often, as he was mostly void of any expression. Now standing to his feet, he quickly made his way down the hall of the apartment he shared with his best friend. As he approached the door he could hear ICP playing very loudly from the other side of the door. Kanai knocked at a decent decibel, hoping to acquire the demon's attention.

Soon enough, the music cut and the bedroom door swung open. Alistar stood there shirtless, in a pair of black occult sweatpants and his ruby red hair tied up in a ponytail as his crimson eyes looked Kanai up and down. "Sup dude?" curious as to what he wanted, he cocked a thin red brow, knowing full well the hound had plans for the day.

"I need you to help me," the navy haired demon said simply, his emotionless eyes resting on that of the other.

"Ok, with what?" Cocking his head upward now, Al was intrigued by his friend’s sudden dance around the subject.

"I need you to look after Draeko while I'm out, he isn't feeling well," immediately Al's eyebrows fell into a furrowed motion and he crossed his arms over his chest as he absorbed the inconvenient request.

"Why me? I dont know the first thing about whatever the hell it is he's got," scoffing with a dramatic toss of his head.

"For me? Please?" This time Kanai stared straight into Alistar’s….being. Can you really say he has a soul? Maybe somewhere in there, to whatever part of Al’s body Kanai often appealed to, he bore into it.

"Fine...but you owe me," folding like a lawn chair, as he typically did in matters like these, but he was pointing a serious index finger into the other's slyly smug face.

"Thank you, Al," He nodded his head gently in a kind gesture, his face turned up, almost as if he would smile, but the motion was still too foreign to the hound. Yet the change in his general energy, could be easily deciphered from the red head. Al rolled his eyes, trying to push away the blush that was almost unnoticeable if he wasn’t so pale. Ever since Drae started coming around he was doing that, almost smiling thing more. Typically it was only something he had seen when they’d done something malicious, but it was still very different from that. However, things were changing for them now. Both of them.

"Yeah, yeah...so like...what do I have to do?" begrudgingly he started following the man out to the living room, now where they both loomed over the sniffling mess of a man that lay across their couch.

"You just have to always ask him what he needs...a lot....maybe set a timer every 15 minutes to check in on him.." he thought thoroughly before stopping in their tracks.

"Oh...jeez..he looks like he's dying...are you sure he's not dying?" Alistar looked over at Kanai with an air of seriousness, never having really seen a human this ill, without the reason being heavy addiction. Drae peaked open his dulled duo colored eyes and sniffled weakly.

"I'b not dying...I'b jusd sicg!" he huffed with a slight attitude causing Al to narrow his eyes over the little mutt. The two hadn't really exactly spent a whole lot of time together. Alistar thought Drae more like, a stupid distraction pulling his best friend's attention from him. Manipulating other's wasn't quite as fun without Kanai beside him thinking he was making acquaintances. Drae thought of Al as some bitter, angry, loser that was holding Kanai back. They clashed any time they shared a room together since K started dragging the mutt around with them every where they went.

"Listen here kiddo, if you're going to act like a priss I'll have you know I'-..." grumbling with slight agitation before Kanai lifted his hand in the space between the two of them.

"No, Drae is allowed to feel whatever emotions he feels Al, and you have to understand he is sick, he isn't himself...suck it up," Kanai spoke while gathering all his things and kissing the mutt on his forehead before taking his leave from the apartment all together. "Be good," he spoke more toward Al than he was Drae. The demon rolled his red eyes dramatically before looking down at the mutt once more, the front door now closing shut.

"....Is there anything you need....?" grumbing meerly under his breath but enough for the other to catch it.

"Y-yeah...I'm kind of hungry actually?" Drae perked up slightly his gaze leering slowly up at the anti-christ that refused to make eye contact with him.

"Uh...ok...what do you want?" looking to the side, he wasn't much of a cook, truly, the convenience of delivery and take out was far too grand than learning how to cook for one's self. Why would he? He could have all the money he wanted, and never have to lift a finger.

"Soup?" the mutt asked with a sore throat, trying to swallow the feeling of pins sliding down his esophagus. "Maybe some water?" bringing a tissue up to his swollen and red nose, an action caught by the red head who deemed the motion, rather cute in a strange way.

"I can make mac n cheese," he shrugged his shoulders, finally now attempting to look the other in his face, but still avoiding their eyes touching.

"No, I can'd habe thad, Al, it's bad for sicg people, it mages id worde cause of the dairy in id," furrowing his eyebrows in distaste at the mere suggestion of a flemmy meal.

"Uncle Fuckin’…..fine, whatever. I'll just order something, what kind of soup do you want?" Now pulling out his latest upgrade iphone and scrolling through the uber eats app. "They got some shit called pho, you want that?" looking up from his screen momentarily to possibly catch a response through Drae's face.

"Mmh...no...I jusd wand something comfording..." he mulled over the idea for a second but never really took to much a liking to pho. He snuffled loudly, though it was still soft and less disruptive than your typical sniff. “Sndfff…”

"Okaaaay....I could order from this weird diner, they have beef stew? Or clam chowder?" not even really certain what these kind of meals were. Al hated soup. Liquid meal? It's not a meal, its a beverage, with chunks. Gross.

"Stew sounds kind of nice...." Draeko started when he suddenly felt a painful, persistent prickle at the bridge of his nose. It crept higher, and higher. It overwhelmed him until he was hitching his mouth wide open and squinting his eyes almost halfway shut. "Heh'Kisssh!" a breathy kitten like sneeze escaped his mouth, flinging his arm across his face in order to catch the mess in the crook of his elbow.

"W-Wha?" Alistar blushed brightly at the sound, looking up from his phone to see the other still struggling to keep himself under control. Eyes leaking, nose swelling and lips dripping as he hitched again. The demon froze, just watching as his heart started to beat rapidly.

" 'ihschh! H'sSHIEW!" Again, and again the mutt suffered through as his tiny sneezes echoed the space between the two men. Al clutched his phone tightly in his right hand as he just continued to stare, almost in a trance, unaware of what was happening to him right now. Usually he was a man of composure, cool, slick, but currently he felt like he could melt into a physical puddle.

"Wait what's...what's happening are y-you okay?" he asked cautiously reaching his left palm out to gently touch the hybrid's sweating forehead.

"I'-Hih' I'm ...'TSCH! Fibe..." Draeko grumbled and sneezed, swatting his hand away trying to gain some sense of composure as his nose started to leak.

"You're literally exploding from your face," Alistar quickly looked around and grabbed a tissue bringing it over to the mutt and gently dabbing at the other's wet face.

"I'b sneeding," Drae rolled his tear stained eyes, allowing the other to help clean him up, a simple but kind gesture, it couldn't hurt to actually allow the hellion to tend to him.

"Yeah, I know what a sneeze is but...I didn't realize so many could come out at once..." looking completely entranced by the other’s stuffy, and snotty state of being. His motions moving slower as he started to notice the fine details of his chapped skin. Drae’s breath snagged in his throat once again, trying his best to respond.

"S-some-tim..'ihschh! H'TSCH! 'sHiew!" Befouled by the inevitable illness that had it’s tightened grasp on the small mutt. His sounds were innocent, like a small cat, there was minimal mess, but still puffs of stray mist would escape past his arm. Alistar felt his heart beating in places it certainly shouldn’t be at current as he tried his best to compose himself, he cleared his throat, standing back from the other’s space now.

“Okay well, uh…I’m gonna order that…stew…” he lingered as he contemplated his next move. Was he going to go back to his room and return to his previous tasks or, should he stay? Granted, the worse the mutt got, the more Alistar felt the innate urge to ravish him, but that was certainly inappropriate. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “Alright I’ll let you know when it’-…” cut off by the softest, most defiant whimper he’s ever heard, it caused a rush of heat to flood through the back of his ears and jaw.

“S-Stay? Keep me company?” Draeko pleaded from behind his stack of blankets, and used tissues, those glistening mint and pink colored eyes staring right through the soulless demon. His blackened fingers twitched as his sides. He knew he shouldn’t but, fine. He’ll do it for the sake of his best friend, and behave to his best ability.

“Uh…Alright…” looking around Al found himself more comfortable sitting on the ground next to the sofa Draeko was laying across. “You want to…idk…watch something?” He asked almost nervously, there was something off about the demon now, and Draeko could suddenly sense it. He had no time to ask questions as he continued to cough, and sniffle into his palm of crinkled tissues.

“Hnnn…” he groaned in response leaving the hellion in charge of having to make the decision.

“Okay, what if….I show you the Kardashians, huh?? They’re totally tone deaf to society around them and are actively shitty people, it’s fun to watch them scramble for a sense of normalcy in a world they begged for,” he snickered maliciously to himself as he thought back to all the episodes he’d already binged. Drae flopped his head to the side, looking at the demon with a less than amused expression.

“Okay then what do you want to watch?” Sighing deeply and leaning against the couch to look at Drae from an upside down angle.

“Aggretsuko,” he said simply. Al blinked a few times before he raised a thin brow in confusion.

“A what now?” He blinked a few times, not even really sure he heard the mutt correctly.

“Aggretsuko… just gimme the remote,” sticking his one hand out now from under the covers, Al slid the device over to him and the man began to find it in the recents, pressing play. Al went back into his phone now, ignoring the tv altogether in order to finish completing his order.

“You want anything with your stew?” He asked with an unamused tone to his voice.

“Nah,” equally distracted, Drae already found himself lost in the screen title of his show.

“K cool, it’ll be here in like 45 minutes,” clicking his phone shut he set it down on the ground beside his leg and began to watch the screen now in front of them. “What the fuck is this garbage?” He asked as the title scene came to an end and the show itself started. His eyes scanned over the harshly designed animated cat mood switching between scenes.

“It’s like..my favorite show sndfff,” Drae slicked up another mound of building sick from the depths of his sinuses, trying his best to keep them down.

“You can’t actually enjoy this shit can you…?” Alistar’s lip turned up in disgust he was so going to make Kanai pay him back for this. Before the mutt could answer there was a hiccup followed by a series of staggered inhales. “Whoa, is it happening again?” Alistar quickly turned around and almost like a dog that was told ‘treat?’, watching with intense intrigue before the hybrid let loose. Yet, with Al in such close proximity now, it filled him with nerves, stage fright. He stifled. “Hihh’GXXTsh!…Ihh’gxxnt!” shoveling his face deep into the comforter, trying to hide himself away while the feeling of built pressure pounded against his cranium.

“Now come on, that can’t feel good,” clicking his tongue with dissatisfaction. “Let it out!” He turned his body now to face the other fully, while getting a good look at his current state. His usually bright eyes were sunken, and rather lifeless. His mouth was chapped and his nose was almost swollen, hair strewn about in a terribly messy fashion.

“Bud…id’s embaradding….” He mumbled gently, shifting his gaze to the side before reaching for the box to obtain yet another tissue. Slopping it lazily against his aching nose.

“It’s just me here,” cocking a smug smirk before licking his lips dangerously. Draeko rolled his eyes in repetition.

“Thads the problem…” Mumbling with a new found shyness that Al hadn’t usually seen on the normally bubbly man.

“Just let it out,” rolling his own red orbs in reflection, with slight irritation now as he waited for the mutt to stop acting so damn coy. “Here do you want me to close my eyes?” He asked shutting his lids closed finally, Draeko giggled, though it did help a bit with the anxiety.

“Lil bid..” he uttered softly under his breath, already feeling the intense tickling build once more, his throat tightening, the prickle etching through the center of his nostrils the longer he focused on it.

“K’GNSH’’iiew! Hihh’…” his mouth hung open, and he allowed his eyes to fall shut after the first, before another forced itself through. “GXXTSH!” He sniffled loudly, though it still came off as a very gentle sound compared to most people. Alistar’s body trembled, he could not see the action but he could feel the vibration of the couch shaking beneath the pressure of Draeko’s sneezes. His toes curled in his black socks as he could not escape the thoughts in the darkness of his eyelids. His face felt hot.

“Can I look now?” He asked already starting to open his curious red orbs. Suddenly Drae panicked, trying to grab at himself uselessly trying to find something to cover his face but in no time, the dripping from his nose, the sting behind the light shining into his eyes from the peaking curtain, he found himself remaining underneath the cruel fate of fit.

“Ihh’gxXNT’IIEW! Heh’KISSH!” Out into the open air, mists of saliva drifting into the air between the two of them, a few stray droplets hitting the demon across his cheeks. He blinked his crimson reds in …almost amazement as it seemed. Quickly he grabbed a tissue and presented it to the young mutt.

“That was a surprise for you AND me,” he chuckled trying to distract himself from the rising heat within his chest. Draeko took the tissue in his own grasp, patting and rubbing his sore, leaking features.

“Shuddub…” Drae rotated his teary eyes back while blowing his nose self consciously into the thin sheet of tissue. “Uggggh I hade dhis,” he uttered helplessly while continuing to fight off the horrendous feeling that grew inside of him.

“I know, pup, but…you’re leaking like a faucet, and I’m stuck in charge so…is there anything else you need while we wait for your food to arrive?” Seemingly genuine, almost like he was dropping the hardened facade and maybe, cared? Drae blinked and shrugged gently.

“Somb more meds? On tha…uh…” his words fell back down his throat as a gasp of air forced it’s way through, his mouth hung open.

“The…?” Alistar stared at the frozen mutt, hoping to get an answer while he slowly came to a stand.

“Tha..H…Hih’hhishiew!…..counder….” Groaning with a powerful snort of his nose, desperate to feel clarity while his face only felt fuller by the hour.

“A-Alright…” Alistar quickly sped off to the kitchen and clutched the counter with his blackened hands. The Anti-Christ felt like he’d run out of air, like the time he was socked in the chest by Remi for being a bit too cheeky with the cat. He shook his head and tried to balance himself. He was sweating. “What the fuck? Why is my vessel leaking like this?” He swiped at his temples and turned to the sink and flicking it on with one swift motion. “Get it together, dude…” swift flashes of Draeko bent over the couch, looking behind him with that dripping nose and reddened eyes…the feeling of him sneezing while he’s buried…”DUDE,” he scolded himself, now dunking his entire head under the running water. He soaked through his red hair, allowing the shockingly cool temperature change to ground him, letting out a deep, desperate sigh.

“Do not…try and fuck the sick….DONT…” he stared at himself in the reflection of the over head microwave. Turning, he snatched the box of mucinex from the counter as droplets of water trickled down his scalp, neck and exposed back. When he returned to the living room Draeko looked at him with almost certain surprise.

“Why’re you all wed?” Raising a pink brow to examine the demon from head to toe, like he’d had a bucket of water dumped over him. How?

“Mind your business…here,” he tossed the box ontop of the mutt haphazardly, avoiding eye contact before he slid back to the ground, back flush against the couch.

“Okay….” Drae sighed, not liking the sudden change in atmosphere and mood. “Well…I need wader to tage it…” he managed as he fumbled with the plastic sealing on the individual pills.

“Oh shit..ok be right back,” sighing deeply before Al stood back up, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a Mountain Dew from the fridge and then brought it right back out to the mutt.

“Dude….no…wader,” sniffling sharply, pushing his sleeve against his exhausted nose. Alistar sucked in a breath of air through his teeth.

“Fuckin’ Uncle Christ,” he turned sharp on his heels, and back into the kitchen. Flinging open the fridge now with borderline rage, not really at anyone else but himself. If he had maybe a little bit of earthly knowledge in this sort of situation, that would be nice. They don’t really teach ‘Healing the Sick’ in Anti-Christ training. He snagged a water bottle out of the fridge and slammed it shut before he once again, returned to Draeko who was stuffing bits of tissue into his nose and still tending to his ever flowing face. “Here,” he shoved the bottle into the mutt’s lap before once again, taking a seat on the floor. Yet, the second his butt touched the surface, there was a knock.

“Bro! Every time I sit down?!” Now letting out an exuberantly frustrated chuff of air he stood, AGAIN, and stomped his way to the door, flinging it open with such rage that it spooked the delivery person standing on the other side. “What?!” His red eyes narrowed in on the bag in the shaking man’s hand.

“D-delivery f-for Al?” Presenting the bag slowly to the raging demon, he snatched it with his blackened hand, narrowed his eyes and spoke without emotions.

“Thanks,” closing the door he walked into the kitchen, a place he was sick and tired of having to be in, and started to fix a proper bowl of stew for Draeko. “Stupid Kanai…stupid Draeko…stupid earthly illnesses…I just wanted to watch ICP music videos today, maybe jack off a couple times, MAYBE, get some Poon….NO…” he grumbled the entire way through pouring the contents of the Togo bowl into a real temperature regulated containment. “I’m here…taking care of KANAI’S fuckin PET….catching BLUE balls…” Slamming the now empty to go box into the trash, shuffling his feet out back to the living room. While he approached the couch once more with his hands full of soup, uttering, mumbling and grumbling to himself he paused dead in his tracks.

Draeko was sitting up now, hugging his legs, and gently crying into his knees. “Hey…wha-…wait,” Alistar, already feeling and knowing the very real sense in sorrow. He set the bowl aside on the table and he sat next to Drae, looking at him with quizzical eyes. “What’s this? Why are you sad?” He wanted to reach out with his hand but, he couldn’t seem to make his body do it. So his hands stayed in his lap, and his ruby reds bore curiously into the mutt.

“Just leave….if taking care of me is SUCH an inconvenience on you, then leave, I don’t need you stomping around here making me feel worse,” He now looked up at the Hellion with tear stained eyes.

“Hey, wait! I didn’t…..” Al sat back for a second and reflected on the way he acted. Normally, it was fine with just him and Kanai here, but he hadn’t realized how sensitive the pink and mint colored male was. “Look, my bad okay? I just…..” he took a breath in and averted his gaze to the side while the sniffling, shaking mutt listened closely. “I never get to see Kanai anymore..and I just, feel left out…and like I don’t know…” he shrugged.

“Are you jealous of me, Al?” He asked quizzically.

“No. I’m not…jealous? I just hate…that you have such an influence on him, and that…I don’t know, what happens if you put all these things in his head, and then you disappear and he’s not the same as he was before? I’ve seen it ya know…” he muttered running a hand through his crimson threads. “Look, I just…I’m not used to….talking…I just don’t want you to change my best friend for the worst…and not in a fun way either,” he chuckled trying to lighten the seriousness of his sudden vulnerability.

“Oh, I have absolutely no intentions of going anywhere, Al….I really love that big lug…and I know, before you start…” he looked down at his hands. “I know it’s probably highly unlikely that he will even fully understand or truly love me back…” his face turned up into a smile, those his eyes stay somber. “It just means I’ll have to love enough for the both of us, but that’s perfectly fine with me cause, he’s the first person that’s ever felt like home,” trying explain himself the best way he could, looking up now to meet the demon’s avoidant gaze.

Alistar realized in that moment, this may be something incredibly real for his best friend. The only opportunity for him to ever know what it’s like to be loved selflessly.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a heathen….there’s more reason than one but…” he said genuinely, though it was hard to tell how genuine when his face always seemed so emotionless when he was trying to be, vulnerable. Meanwhile, he kept his struggle of arousal to himself. Least he make their newly found friendship, weird. “Let me make it up to you…” he turned his whole body to the side, and he noticed a visible chill go down Draeko’s spin. A tinge of pain shot up the mutt’s body and into his temples.

“Well first…I need a pain killer or something…can you grab me some Tylenol?” Taking the opportunity in the now seemingly once again peaceful environment, to get some relief from his suffering.

“Yeah, no problem, hey there’s soup over there if you’re peckish..” he nodded his head in the general direction of the bowl, before getting up and walking into the kitchen. This time, he wasn’t so angry, but thoughtful in his own head. He hadn’t realized how sensitive earthly beings were and for the first time he was actually aware of how he was carrying himself. Taking a deep breath to make sure he maintained an even aura, he grabbed all the medicine stuff that had been splayed across the counter. “Okay, so hopefully I won’t need to come back for any aide shit,” mumbling softly to himself as he came back arms full of bottles and packaging. “Okay which one is the Tylenol?” Looking down within his loot to scan any of the labels facing him.

“The white bottle with the red lid,” Draeko said before sliding a spoonful of stew down his throat. He was sitting criss cross on the couch, bowl in his lap as he continued to observe the demon. Who, in turn sat on the ground, and spilled over his hoard.

“Red lid….” His eyes visibly scanning through the different items before they spotted the exact bottle description he was given. He snagged it in his hand, turned it over and it read ‘Tylenol’ in bright red letters, satisfied he had found the correct item he popped open the lid and then looked up at the mutt. “Uh…how many you want?” Lifting his brow in confusion. Drae couldn’t help but giggle at this point.

“Are you allergic to reading? Medication bottles usually tell you in the directions how many you can exceed in a 24 hour period,” they both shared a chuckle while Al shook his head.

“My bad ok! They don’t really emphasize the attention to detail on the health care system, just how to abuse it,” he shrugged simply with a snicker before he actually took the time to scan over the bottle. “Okay says don’t exceed 6 so….give you 6? Or?” Fixing his gaze back up to Drae.

“Well I COULD take 6, but that wouldn’t be a good idea, give me two, and then set a timer for two hours for me to take another..okay?” It was slightly taxing having to explain how to take care of him to a seemingly grown man, but he never forgets that both Al and Kanai, are not from here, and it takes patience to deal with them sometimes.

“Alright cool, here’s two then,” the hellion handed the two pills over from his blackened hand and then preemptively taking the bottle of water next to the mutt, twisting off the lid and handing that over as well.

“You ARE learning!” The smaller giggled with a wink before snapping the pills back in his mouth and sloshing it down with the refreshment.

“Whatever,” rolling his crimson’s with a sly smirk spreading across his face. “Okay so you wanna watch that show now?” Though it played softly in the background this entire time, he meant more in the sense of actually watching the damn show instead of going back and forth.

“Yeah!” Drae seemed to cheer up now, before he suddenly looked very, quizzical. “Can I ask a favor though?” A light blush spreading across his cheeks.

“What’s up?” Almost cocking his head to the side as his ruby reds looked over the mutt’s slightly shy expression.

“Will you sit up here with me?” Patting the spot to the right of him, lifting his blankets to clear space for the demon.

“Uh…yeah, sure,” shrugging his shoulders without giving it a second thought, he plopped himself directly next to the small man, slinging a long arm across the back of the couch, behind Drae’s shoulders. “Alright, so what is the point of this show?”

“Well, Retsuko,” he started but quickly was met with interruption by the demon.

“The cat?” Alistar spoke out, looking between the tv and Drae who had just previously tried to speak.

“She’s a red panda!” He seemed offended, but any negative connotation that would come with offense was lost when he shook his head with laugh.

“Okay! Sheesh…” Al returned it with a huff through his nostrils and a toothy grin.

“Anyways…Retsuko works at an office and basically hates it, so she often vents through out the show in the fashion of death metal,” explaining a bit more with his hands than he was with his own words.

“Huh…” The demon now stuck watching a scene to which would be described as Retsuko venting, via death metal. “That’s kind of sick though…I’d probably find the human race a bit more tolerable if this was how they all vented,” he snickered, unconsciously his arm slipped down to pull Draeko into the crook of his chest, essentially snuggling him. Neither of the two men spoke about the sudden closeness they were sharing, it felt rather natural to them as they occasionally chittered and chuckled.

A few episodes went by and at first it seemed like the mucinex and Tylenol were working miracles on getting Draeko to a place of better health. However, mid way through the third episode, he started to feel that tickle again. Drae shifted under Al’s clinging arm, and tried his best to fight the urges rising within him. Alistar noticed the sudden twitching, and shifting under him and he looked down to see the small man’s nose flexing, and twisting.

“You okay?” He asked with a slight edge of concern in his voice.

“N-n…Hh’NDKT’ih! ‘ihschh!” He sneezed toward Al’s bare open chest, a mist of saliva spreading across his flesh. Al froze, and looked down, trying to hide the blush on his face that was surely growing brightly, quickly Drae slapped a hand over his face.

“S-sorry…H’GXTSH’UE! ‘TSCH! H’ih’Sshiew!” Trying now to shield himself as he shoved the blanket up into his face, successfully stifling any continued mess away from the hellion.

“N-No…you’re good…” Alistar muttered weakly as he reached over for a few tissues, bringing them over to Drae’s nose, pinching and rubbing the poor hybrid’s nostrils for him. His gaze staring closely at the darkened circles under the mint and pink orbs. “You need some rest, your vessel is tired,” he warned the mutt lightly while wiping any stray dribbles of saliva that may be on his chin.

“Bud…we’re wadghing someding…” whimpering stuffily he tried his best to keep fighting the broiling symptoms inside him.

“No arguing, sleep will do you some good…maybe laying down will help,” Al leaned back on the couch, his long body spreading as far as he could with the other still sitting there, he opened his arms out. “M’ere,” his fingers wiggling inward toward him, beckoning the sick one to come forth. Letting out a slightly defeated huff before he crawled into the space between Al’s leg’s allowing the demon to wrap his arms around his neck loosely, snuggling together like two puzzle pieces. “See? Get comfy, catch some Z’s it’ll be okay,” bringing a hand over to softly play with the loose strands of hair that fell over his lower abdomen.

“Bud…I’b…nod..” trying to fight against him but unfortunately, the warm body he laid on, and the fingers in his hair quickly sent him into slumber. The exhaustion from suffering all morning long, was just far too great. It was almost instant the second his body had gotten comfortable. Alistar, long abandoning the colorful television show that played mindlessly in the background, his eyes watched over Drae’s now sleeping figure. The way his chest gently rose and fell, but caught and stuttered in between breaths, mouth hanging slightly a jar. Any time it seemed like he may struggle himself awake, Al would slip his darkened finger tips tenderly down the male’s nose bridge, allowing it to soothe whatever interruption may intrude on his slumber.

As much as he longed for another, needed just one more to store in his memory to make the perfect mental compilation. He owed it to Kanai to take care of the sickly mutt at his best capabilities. This small hybrid male…may be the only creature in existence that can truly love the hound for exactly as he is, and truthfully, the only one that’ll follow him where he’s going. Alistar wasn’t sure what the future held, and if his father ever caught onto what he was doing down here, he could very well never see Kanai again. Leaving the hound alone. As he lost himself in one of the first thoughtful moments he’d ever had with himself, Drae shuffled. The demon blinked a few times as the movements brought him into reality, immediately looking down to see the mutt turning on his side, completely spooning Alistar’s thigh and leg.

“Pup?” He asked quietly out loud, trying to peer over to see his face, yet it was covered by the other’s colored hair. When he was met with silence he spoke out loud to himself “Guess not,” he chuckled through his nostrils, continuously running his hand delicately through Draeko’s hair. As his fingers gently combed through the strands, he let the backs of his digits slide gracefully across the other’s sleeping cheeks, causing him to slightly stir into the motion.

“K-…anai…” Drae whimpered in his sleep, snuggling closer into the demon’s body. Al almost froze up but realizing the mutt’s eyes were still sealed shut, he could only allow a small smile to slip over his features.

“Don’t worry kid, he’ll be home soon…I’ll take care of you til then,” his voice was soft, nothing but a whisper as he continued to run his hands over the man’s sleeping form. It felt like forever as the show played behind them and Al just carefully watched over Drae, Ruby eyes constantly gazing up and down the man’s body to observe any changes.

“Mmh…” the mutt grumbled from his sleep.

“Shh…” Al cooed with upmost care, just trying to insure the man retained his comfort, despite the fact his own leg was starting to go numb. “Shit..” he uttered loosely, unable to move his lower half as it joined Draeko into dream land. He heard a distant ding from under his torso, he just barely fidgeted to slide the device from under him with his free arm, looking at the screen he saw the display name.

Mine 🩵🩶: Hey can I eat these handfuls of colorful pellets they’ve given me?

Draeko: It’s Al. Drae fell asleep. Yeah, go for it.

Mine🩵🩶: ok

Alistar snickers to himself knowing full well he just told the hound to eat a handful of fish food. Often, finding it funnier to make his best friend fuck around and find out. Just as he was about to set the phone down another text came in.

Mine🩵🩶: It was salty. Everyone is looking at me weird. Why are they dumping theirs in the water?

Draeko: lol

Mine🩵🩶: Al????

Alistar sets the phone back down, he knows the 2500 year old being can figure how to manage on his own. For someone who was deeply invested in research, he surely didn’t pay enough attention to folks around him, and it was about time he did. His gaze switches over to the tv and though he had long lost interest in the strange cartoon, he was stuck here watching it. The remote had fallen onto the floor, and was not within Al’s range of reach. Instead he just continued to lay there, staring at the ceiling. Hm. He was bored. Severely bored. He sighed, almost completely forgetting he was trying to remain a comfortable source to the mutt, his expressive exhale is what woke him.

“Hmm?” Drae stirred, and Alistar’s crimson orbs shot down to examine the once sleeping creature’s face to see dulled out, and sleepy mint/pink eyes searching the space around him.

“Mornin’,” Al chuckled sliding his hand through the strands of hair that covered the mutt’s face and pushing them out of the way. “Sleep good?”

“Mmm…yeah,” followed with a yawn before he turned over to lay flat on his back now. “When did I fall asleep?” Blinking the sand from his eyes as he felt his body starting to waken, different areas of him throbbing uncomfortably.

“While ago,” The demon replied back smoothly, his face still searching that of the mutt’s exhausted features.

“You’ve just been…letting me lay on you then?” Drae raised a mint brow, his eyes looking up at him from where he was, his view of Al completely upside down but unchanging in the way he comprehended the hellion’s tone.

“Yeah, no biggie…K texted, but I helped sort that out so you could keep resting,” shrugging his shoulders and nodding his head into the direction of Drae’s cell that laid on his upper chest.

“Oh is he okay??” Trying to find the strength to sit up, only to be stopped by Al’s strong blackened hands keeping him in his position.

“Yeah, all good,” nodding once, with a slightly reassuring smile.

“Good…my head is killing me…” the mutt seemed to settle back down between Al’s legs, laying on his back as his hands came up to massage the different places on his skull that ached.

“Need me to rub your temples?” Alistar offered simply, his eyes going back and forth between watching Drae try to soothe himself, and the mutt’s pained expression.

“Would you?” Peaking his mint colored eye out from under his closed lids, wishing himself relief from the currently pounding headache.

“Sure, just relax,” the demon shifted just slightly so he could look down at Drae more fully, being able to see his head completely, he brought his hands to each side of the other’s head and with four fingers, on either side, began to gently massage the sore spots. Immediately he could feel Draeko melt into his lap, eyes slipping closed and groaning gently in response.

“It’s so much better when someone else does it….” He sighed with relief, allowing the hellion to work out his pain.

“That’s what she said,” Al couldn’t help but chuckle playfully, watching as Drae’s eyes shot open to make contact in his own.

“You’re such a turd,” giggling with a roll of his dual colored orbs.

“Yeah, rather me be a turd than a puddle of wet shart though,” Al said almost too seriously for Drae to not respond with a genuine laugh.

“Sometimes, the things you say are incredibly concerning,” slipping his eyes back to a closed position, while Al’s hands never ceased their movements despite the conversation between them.

“Probably, but it made you laugh, so I guess the line between funny and horrendous remains the same…” winking his crimson eye at the mutt as his hands continued to soothe and massage at Drae’s head.

“Mmmhh touché, just don’t stop,” rotating his eyes closed once more, feeling the first bits of real relief he hadn’t felt in days. Al’s face was flushed as he felt his body change in temperature again, the sounds of the relaxing man were proving to be a tad tempting. Yet, despite his natural hellish instincts to try and put the moves out, he swallowed it, and just remained attentive to the little mutt.

Seemingly, the tension inside his skull was starting to subside but as the pressure released there, it almost felt like it was migrating. The center of his face now feeling much tighter than it had when we woke. “W-Wait…think…I’m gonna…” hesitating to get the full sentence out, Drae’s eyes opened but squinted immediately when the light of the tv only irritated the continually building feeling. “I’m…” he tried to push back at the hellion’s hands but it was if no real use.

“Are you gonna sneeze again?” Alistar asked almost hopeful? It was enough to confuse Drae to disregard the fact he was trying to hold back.

“Hihh’GXXTsh’iiew! ehh’Gxxtchh’iew!” He brought a palm up, slapped clear across his mouth as he exploded outwardly. It was impossible to stop the force, but he did everything in his power to. Al reached down to snatch each of Draeko’s wrists pulling them apart from his face.

“Stop holding them back,” his voice was now much darker, commanding, Drae suddenly felt very small compared to the demon.

“Ehhh?” Looking up at Al from his still laying position.

“Stop. Holding. Them. Back. You’ll make your eyes pop out,” smirking, knowing it was a good enough excuse beside the sheer fact he just wanted to hear it. He’d been waiting hours again for the mutt to fall into another fit. The mutt looked innocently at the hellion before biting his lower lip, and as his ducts began to well with liquid, the red head could already suspect more were to come. “Release,” he said simply, but yet still laced with a dark edge.

“K’GNSH’iiew! Hih’hhishiew!” Each one so special in their own quietly explosive way, it was truly like a musical orchestra in the demon’s buzzing head. There was a lack of mess that disappointed him, as they weren’t relatively outward ENOUGH.

“See? Doesn’t that feel much better?” Releasing one of the male’s wrists to swipe his thumb under Drae’s moistened lower lip. In turn, the mutt nodded, but his maw hung open lazily as he struggled to breath.

“Bud now my node id plugged again..” warbling weakly, followed with a pout.

“Awww but the way you sound is so unbelievably adorable!” Pinching the mutt’s cheek playfully. “Come on…I know you have another in there…you still sound so full..” tickling his finger tips feverishly under Drae’s already struggling nostrils.

“H-Hey!”

“Just a little more…come on, we’re friends, right?” Licking his teeth predatorily. Draeko groaned lowly in his throat before he let out a sigh of defeat.

“F-fine…H..hh…” stuttering and shaking under the demon’s still dusting hands. “Heh’kissh!! H!! Hih’hhishiew!” Al had just in time moved his palm to hover over Draeko’s open sneezing mouth, capturing any and every particle that came flying out. The mutt now unable to handle it anymore, he brought his wrist up to swipe and wipe at his leaking and wet face. “T-There…habby?” Snuffling and rubbing at his still itching nose. The hellion brought his hand upward twisting it under the light of the tv, the living space darkening as the sun started to set. He watched as his hand glistened and shined with even a poorly lit atmosphere.

“Very,” he responded lost in his trance of admiration before he brought his palm down and slid his tongue across a collection of the mess, giving into his carnal desires if just a little.

“Uh…” Drae stared up at him, suddenly feeling almost like prey in the palm of a hunter.

“Hm? What? I deserve to get a LITTLE something out of this…even if that means my own imagination later on tonight…” he spoke so nonchalantly, it almost slid right over the sickly mutt’s head but he furrowed his brows and rolled his eyes.

“You’re a weirdo,” shaking his head slowly back and forth.

“Yeah well, get used to it, kid,” he smirked ruffling his hair a bit now. Just as he was retracting his hand back to his side, the front door opened to their apartment and in walked Kanai, their favorite hell hound. “Hey buddy!”

“Don’t Hey buddy me, you let me eat fish food…” the man furrowed his brows over now at the demon who was already bursting into hysteria, shutting the door behind him. Draeko snapped back to look up at the cackling man and seemed now equally as upset.

“You did what??” He exploded in a tone of accusation.

“Hey! In my defense the guide probably told him, it’s not my fault he wasn’t paying attention,” trying to clear himself of any blame in this situation.

“It tasted horrible,” Kanai stepped closer as he looked over the two and his lips almost pulled up in what seemed like a smile. “You two seem to be getting along though, how are you feeling?” His eyes now coming to fall upon Drae’s swollen and red face, pressing the back of his hand softly against the hybrid’s still burning forehead.

“Still like poop…I missed you…” reaching his hands out in a grabby fashion, Kanai leaned downward and placed a gentle kiss upon the mutt’s clammy forehead, as he had before he left that day. Al stayed seated, but couldn’t help watch how different the hound seemed to be around Drae. It almost softened whatever heart he had beating inside his hallow chest.

“Yeah…well…babysitting is over for me now I guess…” chuckling to try and mask the slight disappointment that he would no longer be of any use now.

“Or…K could set up a spot on the floor and we could have a cuddle puddle! That would help me feel better faster, I know it!” Both hellions seemed rather confused by the sudden idea, but in all truthfulness, Draeko didn’t want Alistar to feel left out anymore. He could see it past the masking ruby orbs that he missed quality time with his best friend, and the mutt, despite being ill, was determined to make a change. If Kanai was his forever, so be it that Alistar would be too. The navy haired man shrugged his shoulders before he voiced his own opinion on the situation.

“If that’s what you want, Luciftias, I’ll go grab some extra pillows and blankets,” already settling into the idea without any hesitation. Draeko swiftly nodded his head, managing to beam up happily at the hound, who could only return the gesture by ruffling the already messy mint and pink colored hair strands. “Anything for you,”

Alistar smirked, his gaze fallen upon the little hybrid, almost lovingly. He could see exactly what the little mutt was up to, and it melted a thin layer of ice that had long encased his heart. Maybe there was more to this plane of existence than chaos. Maybe there was more to his existence, than chaos.

The End.

Author’s Notes: Aweeeeeeeee suh cute 🥹 Alistar’s secretly a softy for his best friend, and in turn, Drae as well. Cbwizckwh sorry if this wasn’t my best? Idk me and Geez wanted something cute so I hope ya’ll enjoyed 🥰 @aller-geez did the cover art and Owns Draeko as well as Kanai!