#keep in mind I know. absolutely nothing about deer

[hana-bobo-finch]

OH YEAH JOY AND WHIMSY I SAW A DEER EARLIER!!!

[teddiesworldd]

after the world ends.

ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words) read part 2 here!!!

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!

pairing: simon ghost riley x female reader

tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance

day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.

you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, driving somewhere more remote to avoid the infected and rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.

you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 

you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 

thud. thud. snap.

footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 

“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.

you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”

he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.

“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”

you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.

his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.

“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 

you nodded slowly.

“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”

you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.

he wasn’t wrong, really.

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

his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 

it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called "soap". they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.

after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. soap had taught you a few things and often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.

however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.

he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your hair, rubbing small circles into your scalp.

“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”

and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.

“not scared, are you, doll?”

you shook your head.

“good. just making sure.”

and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.

but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.

“stay?” you whispered.

and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 

and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.

sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 

it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 

and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 

“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.

and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 

after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”

there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.

"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.

"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."

your small hand reached up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.

"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.

you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.

"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.

it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.

"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.

"please," you replied, "i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that came through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.

he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.

"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."

he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.

"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."

you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.

he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.

"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.

you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forth as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.

it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.

"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."

when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.

he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.

and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.

"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."

˚✧. thank you for reading!

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˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

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💌 send a request

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: "What are we?"

G/N. Relationship questions. Goo, Johan, Gun, Jake, DG, Samuel, Ryuhei. Masterlists

"What are we?" You blurt out. It gurgles up your throat and past your lips.

The question is unprompted. In truth it was something constantly running through your mind though you had never discussed it.

He stares, for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights before regaining his composure.

A sly smile slithers over Goo's face.

Even his glasses seem to somehow glint playfully in the light.

"What was that, sweetheart?" He asks, tilting his ear closer to you.

He knows that you know that he heard you perfectly yet he still likes to be difficult.

"Nothing," you mutter, rolling your eyes as dots of pink appear on your cheek.

His smile grows at your reaction. "Really, nothing?" You ignore him. "Didn't sound like nothing."

"..."

"Sound like you asked what we," he gestures at you and him, "are."

"Why are you being an asshole if you heard me then," you snap and he shrugs, unperturbed by your insult.

"Don't be like this," Goo purrs, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, other hand adjusting his glasses. "You're mine, and that would make me yours."

Ugh. You had considered shoving him off until he said that. He always knows what to say to keep you sweet and you're an absolute sucker for his unhinged charms.

"Happy, cupcake?"

Yeah, you're very happy. But you still refuse to look at him, even as a smile settles on your face.

.

.

"What?" Johan asks.

"What do you mean what?"

"I mean what-" he abruptly stops and clears his throat, face flushed. He looks anywhere but at you. A fascinating spot on the wall, a stain on the floor, somewhere over the horizon that he's contemplating sprinting off to.

"What were you going to say?"

Mustering up all his courage, he manages not to run off. Instead, he mumbles something under his breath that you can't catch.

"What?" You ask and god, if you say what one more time, you're going to fling yourself into incoming traffic.

Johan looks physically pained, as if he would rather go ten rounds with Gun Park than repeat what he said. But he can do this. He isn't a coward.

... That doesn't mean he needs to look at you while he says it though.

"You're Eden and Miro's favourite person. We talk about getting more puppies together. We do everything together." His ears glow bright red. "You met my mom. She talks about you all the time. She keeps giving me advice-"

"Ok, ok," you grin, taking his hand. Bless his sweet tortured soul, because he hasn't really officially said you're together but you can take a hint. "I guess it sounds like you're my boyfriend."

With a sigh of relief, Johan turns to you wearing a soft smile. "Yeah. I guess I am."

.

.

"You're not clear?" Gun asks with an eyebrow arched.

He looks pointedly at you wandering half naked in his home, his shirt you're wearing barely covering your ass.

"I just-" you bluster, yanking the offering garment lower and likely stretching it but fuck it. "We never said."

Gun gives you a look. One when he thinks you're being particularly insolent or ignorant.

"Don't I spend all my spare time with you?"

"Yes but-"

"Don't I give you complete access to every part of me?"

"Yes-"

"Didn't I introduce you to Charles?"

"And Goo." You add with a grin as Gun's jaw tightens. The latter was unplanned and unwanted. Goo had practically stalked him to his date and then played a very chatty third wheel.

He ignores your comment, just like he tends to ignore most things to do with Goo. "I thought it was obvious I can't see a future without you."

"Oh." You feel the grin tugging at your lips.

"Now are you clear?" Gun asks, eyes warm and lips lifted too as you nod.

.

.

"We?" Jake gives you a full toothy grin.

"Us."

"Our relationship?"

"Yes," you press, giving him a fond shove.

"Well," he starts ticking off his fingers, "Somehow I think Jerry is more loyal to you than me. Brad thinks you're more fun. Jason prefers you as the boss. Lua just prefers you fullstop. And I'm sure Lineman is even more in love you with you than I am-"

Jake slams his mouth shut. His eyes widen as he realises what he just confessed.

He was supposed to joke around how you've usurped him as the actual boss of Big Deal and he's now your lowly peon doing your bidding.

Not that he’s in-

It should be obvious to anyone with eyes that you're together. That Jake is your boyfriend. It's nice, he guesses, to officially confirm that and put that little worried wrinkle between your brows to rest.

But it is far far too early for him to throw the 'L' word around. He's worried about scaring you off and burdening you with more than you can bear-

"Hmm," you cut in on his spiralling thoughts, tapping your finger on your chin thoughtfully "I dunno. I think Lineman is even more in love with my boyfriend than I am."

Your words sink in. Jake turns to you, grin on his face once more and presses a kiss to your cheek. "Sounds like we both have competition."

.

.

"About that," DG starts, and your heart sinks.

That surely isn't a good sign, right?

"What do you think?" He slides over a piece of paper to you and you find a press release printed.

Your eyes clock the picture of you two, looking very cosy and coupley - his arm around you and your head on his shoulder. It's a very flattering picture of him, although when is this guy not photogenic? It's not a bad one of you either.

Beneath it sits a few lines. You scan over the words. 'Relationship', 'Dating', 'Respectful', 'Privacy' stand out.

You glance up to find him staring intently back at you. Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees and fingers steepled together.

It's a tell. You know him well enough by now to see that his nerves are flaring beneath the cool mask.

This is a big step for him, but an even bigger ask for you. To subject yourself to the limelight and his fans and accept who he is, the life he lives.

There was never any doubt.

"It's great." You grin, and he gazes at you, half lidded and with a small smile. 

.

.

"Whatever you want us to be," Samuel says with a smirk, and you internally frown at him, batting the ball so easily back into your court.

You suppose you only have yourself to blame.

You should know by now he would be avoidant when there's a lot to lose.  That overplaying his hand means showing you too much of his vulnerability.

Although you had really hoped by now it was obvious how you felt about him

"But-" he continues, curling himself around your back and wrapping his arms around you, "I think I've settled into the position of boyfriend well."

His lips, time and time again, is drawn to the sensitive spot on your neck.

"Don't you agree?" He asks before nipping at your skin.

You breath hitches and you stammer your agreement.

.

.

"I've been wanting to ask you this at a better time," Ryuhei scratches awkwardly at the back of his head.

“Ask me what?”

He mumbles to himself in his native tongue, as if praying for courage and trying to steel himself.

"Are you ok?" You ask, watching him fumble inside his long coat.

"Never better!" He says though he's now grown paler than you have ever seen and there's a sheen of sweat across his brow.

He lunges forward, landing on one knee with a painful thud as you take a step back.

Wincing, he snaps open a ring box with the biggest diamond you have ever seen.

"Oh my god, our first date was only two months ago!" You say at the same time as he asks-

"Will you marry me?"

[faithisyours]

can you write something about az eating out reader while she reads!

Absolutely obsessed with this request. Here you are, Love. Hope it’s everything you hoped for and more 🫶

Just Keep Reading

Azriel x Fem!reader

CW: smut, oral F receiving, fingering, I think that's it

Word count: 1.5k

It’s your day off, and on your days off you tend to curl up with a good book and read for the entire day. So that is what you are doing, curled up in your reading chair in the corner of your living room reading a smutty little romance novel Nesta had recommended. And it’s safe to say it was a good one, because you can't seem to put it down.

You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been reading until Azriel comes home, pulling you out of your reading trance. And just as you’re getting to the smutty part, too. As he walks into the living room, you look up from your book and give him a warm smile. He returns it, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading into your shared bedroom to change into something more comfortable than what he’s currently wearing.

You continue reading, which now has just turned to pure smut. You look towards the bedroom to make sure Azriel doesn’t see your giddiness, then you dive into reading. Subconsciously, your thighs start to rub together, and your scent gets sweeter, thicker.

All the way from in the bedroom, Azriel can smell you, or rather, the change in how you smell. He pokes his head out, looking to see what has gotten his mate smelling so sweetly. Silently he makes his way back to the living room to find you curled up even tighter than you were before, nose buried in your book, and the smell of you getting headier by the second.

When you notice he's standing right in front of you, you startle, looking like a deer caught in the faelights. You watch as a small grin takes over his mouth. “What are you reading?” he inquires, an eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly.

“Is this one of Nesta's books?” You don’t respond, but he already knows the answer. He takes a step closer to you. “How long have you been in this chair? Your legs must be stiff by now, no?” The change in subject is suspicious, but you're hoping this means he’s going to drop the fact that he just caught you reading smut in the middle of the afternoon. Without waiting for an answer, he kneels down in front of you and grabs one of your legs, pulling it towards him. You let out a small squeak at the sudden change in position. Azriel, as always, was right in guessing you’d be stiff. “Keep reading,” he says when he notices you've stopped.

He starts massaging your leg, staring at the ball of your foot and making his way up to your calf muscle, working his thumb in soothing circles. After a couple minutes he pulls your other leg out towards him, massaging that one too. It would be enjoyable if you weren’t so pent up already from your book.

As you continue reading, the chapters just keep getting smuttier. No wonder Nesta highly recommended this one. You can feel slick gathering at your core, can smell your own arousal getting thicker in the air around you. Azriel’s grip on you gets tighter, so you risk a glance over the top of your book to look at his face. His jaw is clenched, but that’s the only fault in his mask. He continues massaging your legs, paying seemingly no mind to you otherwise.

Even though Azriel looks fine, internally he is not. Your scent is driving him mad, and the fact that it isn’t him causing you to smell like that is getting him wound up faster than usual. A soft gasp escapes you, and that’s when he snaps. His hands glide up your thighs and towards the top of your lounge pants, pulling down on the waist.

“Azriel, what-”

He cuts you off. “Shh, just keep reading.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. Or at least try to do as he says. Your brain short circuits a little when he pulls down your pants, panties along with them, the motion jerking you bottom half closer to the edge of your chair, closer to his mouth. You're naked from the waist down, and all you can focus on is Azriel’s gaze burning holes into your flesh.

“Az, seriously what-” you try to protest again, but he cuts you off a second time.

“Keep. Reading,” he growels, and then his mouth is on you, biting and licking and sucking his way up your thighs towards your soaked core.

You’re trying to read, and it's kind of working, until Azriel parts you with one hand and gives you a long, thorough lick up your core and hums.

“Lucky me,” he says between licks, “To have a mate wet and ready for me when I get home.” you squirm at his words, at the attention he's giving your clit. The hand that parted you goes to your hip, ceasing your squirming, the other curls around your thigh, digging fingers into flesh. “Keep reading or I stop,” he warns, when he sees you've stopped again. You take a deep breath and continue.

You manage to read a couple more pages before doing anything other than moaning seems impossible. Both of your legs are now swung over Azriel’s shoulders, and the hand not clutching your book in a death grip is white-knuckling the arm of the chair. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue teases at your entrance. You don’t want him to stop, but right now all you can do is lean your head back and pant.

But then he does stop, and it’s earth-shattering in a bad way. You look down to meet his eyes, which are full of determination and hunger. “Read,” he demands. You blink a couple times in hopes it will clear your mind, and start reading again. It takes you a second to find where you were, but you eventually find it and begin. But Azriel doesn’t. “Aloud.” His voice is low, so low you barely hear him. “Read aloud,” he states again. It takes you a second to completely understand what he is saying, what he’s asking you to do. But you know not to question Azriel when he’s like this, so you shove your pride down and start reading.

“His hand drifted over my thighs,” you start, glancing over your book to Azriel, making sure he heard you. “And his touch was like liquid fire.” Azriel’s head finally drops down to between your thighs, pressing kiss after kiss to your thighs and pussy, teasing, taunting his touch.

“His fingers parted me,” you continue, “feeling how wet I was, how warm and ready I was to take him.” Azriel groans at your words, sending shockwaves through your body. ““So…so sweet,”” you stutter, trying to regain some of your composure and failing miserably as Azriel starts using his tongue again. ““So soft,” he cooed against my clit. I…”” you gasp as he works a finger into you, curling to find that perfect spot.

“You what?” he prompts, urging you to continue. If only it was that easy.

“I squirmed in his grasp, but…his other hand,” your panting, whimpering between every phrase, “His other hand circled my waist, pinning me back against his chest.”

Your divine noises are music to Azriel’s ears. And hearing you recite the filthy things you read is even more of a turn on. He should do this more often, he thinks, but for now, he adds a second finger into you on a hard thrust, which has you moaning his name along with a slew of other expletives.

“Oh my gods, Azriel, please,” The fingers of your free hand reach for Az’s head, threading through his thick dark hair. “Plese, don’t stop.” He wants to make you keep reading, wants to hear those filthy words come out of your mouth, but your begging has him doing exactly as you say. He doesn’t stop. In fact, he speeds up, thrusting his fingers into your dripping heat, licking and sucking and nipping at your clit.

And then you’re coming, clenching onto his fingers so he can barely move them, thighs bracing his head as you ride through your waves of pleasure. And he works you through it, continuing the attention on your clit, rubbing his hand over your thigh to sooth you. Eventually you return to your body, becoming aware that your book is now on the floor, you’ve just come in the middle of your living room, and that Azriel still has that hunger in his eye.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, but it isn’t really a question. You shed yourself of your top layers, getting completely naked, and launch yourself at Azriel, who catches you and carries you towards the bedroom, much more fun to be had in there. Of course you’re ready for round two.

—

Also, just wanted to mention that I started a ko-fi for tips. No pressure of course. Just figured I’d start one since I’m a student with not much of an income at the moment. Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)

[1980shorrorfilm]

pain breaks the rhythm

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!vampire!reader

in which…ellie wants you to bite her out of curiosity. or something more.

before you read…18+. no smut; vampirism is just sexual. blood drinking.

nirvana plays lowly in ellie’s dorm, her warm fairy lights mixed with orange halloween ones, on the verge of falling due to how lazily she placed them.

they cast a warm glow in the small space, and over the few scattered books on her bed. they lay in between you, along with some notes, both of you sitting in silence as your brains are completely fried from studying at this point.

ellie hasn’t even spoken in five minutes, and knowing her, that means her mind is either empty or on overdrive. she keeps looking at you, as you keep looking at your phone, awaiting a message from whatever girl replies first.

your appetite is growing by the minute, and you can feel it. it causes your head to hurt, and your fingers to fidget, tapping them on your thigh as you attempt to focus on the opened textbook before you.

your little secret wasn’t a secret to ellie. you had trusted her with it, because you trust her with your entire life. she had found the whole thing fascinating, like something out of the many comic books she grew up reading.

except, this is reality, and it’s not as pretty as those colorful pages make it out to be. you’re not a murderer, you don’t have it in you. you’ll stalk the alleys of jackson for rats when desperate, and butter up pretty girls who think your bite is just that— a bite.

a painful yet sensational feeling that makes them want more, and why you rely on them in moments like these.

and for some reason, none of them want to fucking reply to you tonight. it feels like torture, and ellie almost feels bad watching you grow anxious— but she also doesn’t. you and another girl…it makes her want to throw up.

she’s not caught up with her lore, but a kiss from a vampire is equivalent to a proposal to her. and no one, other than her, deserves that from you. she tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, heart jumping out of its chest when she finally speaks, “i’m curious.”

“hm?” you hum, glancing at your phone again, going over your irrelevant notifications to see if you missed anything. “what it feels like…you know…”

you look up at her, “what?”

“a bite…what it feels like,” she says shamefully; as if she’s admitting the most taboo thing ever. maybe because she had imagined it, seeing you at a corner of a party, head snuggled comfortably in a blonde woman’s neck, everyone else distracted by the blaring music and bumping bodies while she was stunned like a deer in headlights.

how she wasn’t disturbed, she was so far from. she thought about it being her, and letting you take what you wanted, not just what you needed. she could be your personal buffet, she would do that for you in a heartbeat. ellie could satisfy you. no one else, just her.

but, you laugh at her words, as if she told you a joke. ellie did have a habit of shitty vampire jokes and puns, often made in group settings because she thinks it is hilarious to have such an inside joke. she grabs your complete attention, “i’m serious.”

the smile you wore, leaves your face, understanding what she was trying to imply without asking. something off the table, absolutely forbidden.

“no…no, ellie,” you tell her, the rejection like a stake to the heart. there was absolutely nothing more in this universe you’d want more than to taste her, just the idea of it makes your heart beat even faster, shaking your head as though it would rid the enticing picture. you’re hungry enough as is.

“why?”

“because ellie.”

“you can do it to anyone else but not me?”

her question is more of a salty remark, causing you to glare at her, ellie now quickly swallowing whatever other comment she already had prepared. she doesn’t get it, she really doesn’t, and you cannot explain it to her.

how drinking from other people is a necessity, like eating food to her. how you have absolutely no emotional attachment to them, and you don’t crave any more than you’re given.

and with her, someone you love deeply, you could drain her completely. which isn’t an overstatement. you’ve watched the blood run along her veins on more than one occasion, how thick and sweet it is.

you can taste it on your tongue without having a single drop if it…how good it would taste running down your throat. you would get drunk off of her.

“it’s not that simple…you’re…you,” you scratch the back of your neck, confusion crossing her pretty features at the statement. “i’m me?”

“yeah…god, ellie, can we drop it?”

you don’t mean to sound so frustrated, but you are. ellie isn’t aware of the weight of her words, how her desire isn’t just hers. you share it, you want her. you want to quite literally devour her.

your phone vibrates, ellie trying to read the notification, someone asking to meet up with a stupid wink face. a sigh leaves her lips, sinking into her bed, redirecting her gaze to the book in her lap.

“see you tomorrow?” she quietly says, assuming you’re ready to go have dinner. and you should, you know you should, but you remain seated on her bed.

“it’s…hard…when it’s someone close to you,” you try to explain, “and i could hurt you.”

she’s sat up straight again, green eyes boring into you. “could isn’t a for sure thing,” ellie says, “i could get hit by a car tomorrow.”

“that’s not— you don’t get it.”

“i do,” she groans, tossing her head back, huffing, then looking back at you, “…i…trust you.”

the contemplation rests on your face, ellie noticing, her determination still adamant. she reaches for your hand, grabs it, and faintly leans forward.

“you wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.”

the cool air thickens with tension as you consider her request, listening to how hard her heartbeat thuds. it compels you, along with the unwavering gaze of her green irises, luring you into her. she adds, “it’ll be a win-win.”

ellie is right. you think you could attack the first person you’d see when you leave her room, suck them until the light leaves their eyes— mouth salivating thinking about it. you’re practically starving, or so feel that way, and ellie could easily relieve you.

“okay.”

you expect a shit-eating grin on her face, the mischief glint in her eyes whenever you give her what she wants. and this was practically giving her the greatest gift on earth, yet her mouth drops ajar and she looks shocked, even nervous.

“really?”

“yeah…if that’s what you want.”

“yeah— yeah,” she responds almost too quickly, but she has already shown her desperation for you.

you push away everything in between you two, getting close enough to where you’re nearly in her lap.

“it’ll hurt.”

“i can take it.”

you watch the low spoken words leave her mouth, the suggestive tone combined with her hand squeezing yours, abruptly taking the air from you. for a moment, you find yourself more attracted to her lips, than her neck.

a very brief moment, because you’re swiftly distracted by the pumping of her jugular, the veins screaming at you.

you steady yourself, “ready?”

ellie nods, and with that, she lets your gentle hand cradle one side of her jaw, tilting it upward. her breathing hitches while you move in closer, fangs grazing the soft skin of her neck.

the heat radiating from her pulse sends shivers throughout your entire body, carnal desire growing stronger each millisecond that passes. along came restraint, slowly sinking your canine teeth in the side of her neck, afraid of actually hurting her.

she gasps immediately, guilt hitting you at the noise. maybe you should pull back. maybe you should stop, and apologize to her for even agreeing to this.

but the moment her smooth blood runs down your tongue, your delicate pressure turns into something feverish, electrifying. you crave more.

you bite harder, sucking the crimson from her body with your eyes fluttering to the back of your head, your worries about the ordeal fading into oblivion. ellie tastes even better than your fantasies, like the ripest fruit in the orchard, so fucking rich.

she is unlike anyone else— you mean that in every way, but the taste of her might just drive you mad. the way her blood rushes into your lungs, she fills you up just right.

when she whimpers, you moan, continuing to feast on her, the warm liquid is like ecstasy. ellie is gripping the sheets beneath her, the pain she feels is euphoric. addicting. damn perfect.

you’re driving her to an edge she’s never been before, in between life and death, a high that makes her body feel lightweight and her mind empty. the only thing she can think about is you, and your fangs inside of her, her life being in your hands as she gives you life.

for ellie, it is the best feeling in the fucking world.

she truthfully believes you could gnaw on her flesh until it was raw, and she would welcome the burning sensation with wide open, and loving, arms. she falls back, onto her pillows, your lips not leaving her for a single second.

“fu…” ellie murmurs, unable to finish the word, mind suddenly blanking.

on top of her, you can feel ellie shuddering beneath you; this is it.

for a moment, everything fades away. her warmth, her pulse, and the world surrounding you. you listen to her whimper once more, the color leaving all of her features, going pale.

your indulgence comes to an end, divorcing yourself from the crook of her neck, scanning her face out of worry you had gone too far.

she’s exhausted, breathless, fluttering her eyes at you. her pupils are blown, looking at you with pure admiration, as if you’re an angel hovering before her. then, she smiles faintly at you. and how beautiful she looks so drained underneath you.

you bring a hand to her face, thumb stroking her freckled cheek gently, “still with me?”

“mhm,” she hums, and you give her a moment to collect herself. you await for her heart rate to return to normal, for her temperature to rise, hand traveling down to her neck in the meantime.

softly, you touch the puncture wound, a strange feeling of pride at the mark. not wanting to heal it, and not wanting ellie to cover it up. it’ll remain a happy reminder of tonight.

when ellie’s pupils are no longer fuzzy, she takes in the view before her, her blood coating your face, on your mouth, on your chin. sinful thoughts run through her head, it makes her feel wrong— perverse —but with how tantalizing you look, she doesn’t care.

ellie almost wants to take a polaroid, and keep it locked away safely in her underwear drawer, afraid this won’t happen again.

she reaches for your face, thumb swiping the stray trail of crimson on your chin. you think she’s cleaning herself off of you, but she has different intentions.

after experiencing such an intimate moment with you, ellie feels bold, and she keeps it going, daring to brush her thumb against your lips— giving you a very clear signal, and order.

one that you accept, mouth opening slightly. her finger slips in, and your tongue curls around it.

ellie’s teeth dig into her bottom lip while you suck the blood off of her thumb, your eyes shut in bliss at the mere taste of her. you wouldn’t waste a single drop.

ellie is hypnotized by you, by the way you bring your hands to her forearm, holding her tightly in place until you are finished. and when you are, you glance back down at her, noticing how flustered she is by the pink hues of her cheek.

you can’t help but laugh, and she gulps, realizing she’s been caught in her trance. it’s cute.

the sudden confidence she had is now fleeting as you crawl off of her, ellie searching for the right thing to say. unfortunately for her, the only words that want to come out are ‘i love you,’ as if you had just taken her fucking virginity.

she decides to keep her mouth shut, lying there dazed.

ellie would happily die to you, if this was the death you’d give her.

[neousfics]

Dead Boy Detective Fic Recs (Hurt/Comfort Edition)

All of the following fics are completed :) The lamps are going out by MagicAio1 Words: 9,755 Rating: T Summary: Evil spirits, vengeful spirits. At the time, he didn't yet have the words to explain what had happened to him –even though, without a frame of reference, he could still tell something was wrong– They formed when a ghost felt an awful injustice had befallen them, and few ghosts could claim to have been as wronged by everything as Edwin Payne.

He just hoped the boy from the attic wouldn't put two and two together.

Review: Vengeful Spirit!Edwin is an incredible idea that is beautifully executed in this fic. Edwin being convinced he's evil or tainted in some way because of the way he has been wronged makes for some fantastic angst, and Charles and Crystal loving him anyway makes for some equally fantastic comfort.

Still a Better Love Story by Vamillepudding Words: 18,000 Rating: T Summary: “That about did it,” Edwin says, patting himself down and straightening his bowtie. “Now, if you’re ready, I suggest we find a mirror and-“

“Did you just cough up a flower?” Charles interrupts. Flower, perhaps, is a slight exaggeration. It’s more like a petal, red and incredibly out of place here on the shore.

Edwin clears his throat, but this time no petals follow. “Certainly it’s nothing to worry about.”

Or: Edwin is suffering from a weird curse, but for some reason, he's refusing Charles' help. Charles is trying his best to fix it anyway, but Edwin is being oddly secretive about the whole thing.

Review: I'm a sucker for a good hanahaki AU, and Payneland is made for them. This fic really leans into Edwin not wanting Charles to suffer or feel pressured as a form of angst which works very well.

for my soul he made an offer (and to dust again i fell) by aletterinthenameofsanity Words: 37,687 Rating: M (CW: rape, blackmail, violence) Summary: Monty gets up on the interview stage and it doesn’t matter what the other tributes have to say, because Monty tells Caesar Flickerman that the boy he fell in love with is the very Mentor trying to save him from the Arena.

It’s a dangerous move, but it just might save Monty’s life in the Arena and his body post-Arena. It might just keep him out of the same deal that Esther made for Edwin.

A familiar hand touches Edwin’s wrist backstage. Charles’ hands gently pry Edwin’s fingernails away from the bloody crescents they are carving into his palms.

“It was the only way I could protect him,” Edwin says, trying to plead with Charles to understand, because Edwin has to do anything he can to protect just one of his tributes.

Charles gives him a small, sympathetic smile. “You could’ve told me.”

But Edwin twists his wrist slightly so that Charles isn’t touching him, because he knows where this is going even if Charles does not. He knows whose life lays on the line if this plan fails, and it’s not just Monty’s.

(Years ago, the President made Edwin kneel and told him that Charles’ life was forfeit if Edwin ever disobeyed. And he won't risk that, even if it means breaking both of their hearts.)

Review: One of my absolute favorite DBD fics to date. Hunger Games AUs are notoriously difficult to pull off, but this one knocks the ball out of the park. It focuses on Edwin's experience as District 10 victor and all the brutality that comes with being in the Capitol. This fic had me actually gasping and jumping about.

By Lantern's Light by babyseraphim Words: 13,620 Rating: T Summary: Edwin is terrified. He feels as though he is a wounded deer caught in a bear trap, simply waiting for the hunter to discover his misfortune. The room is dark enough that he cannot make out a single landmark, the deprivation of all sounds playing tricks on his panicked mind. He swears that he hears distant giggles, the sound of grotesque dolls laughing at his renewed torment, but no creature ever makes an appearance. A hysterical laugh threatens to spill past his own lips, accompanied by a sudden rush of tears. He closes his eyes and wills them away, steeling himself for whatever is to come.

The question is not whether Charles will come; the question is when. Until that question is answered, all Edwin can do is endure. --- A heartbreaking story of love and near loss told from three separate perspectives.

Review: Explores Edwin experiencing the effects of trauma and PTSD from his time in hell as well as his unwavering faith in Charles which makes for a beautifully bittersweet experience. Babyseraphim does a great job exploring the hurt/comfort that occurs on all sides of this story.

the taste in your mouth by greenaerie Words: 14,004 Rating: M (CW: non/con elements) Summary: An unexpected attack from Esther shocks the Dead Boy Detective Agency, taking Charles out of commission.

Edwin solves this the only way he can. A good detective does what they must, after all.

Review: This is one of the only fics I've found that explores the idea of Edwin taking the Cat Kings initial offer from a place of risk-assessment/desperation to save his friends, and I love it! I do wish it had a bit more angst w/ Edwin's experience / Charles reaction to it. However, the author does a great job w/ Edwin's characterization.

dulcet tones of broken bones by gremlininthemachine Words: 20,173 Rating: M (CW: suicidal ideation, suicide attempt) Summary: Object: cardboard shoe box, pilfered from Crystal's overflowing wardrobe; location: the London office, on top of their desk; box contents: several labeled cassette tapes enclosed in plastic cases, along with a handwritten note in perfect script; note contents: "Dead Boy Detective Agency - Recorded explanation for my unannounced absence is enclosed. Sincerely yours, Edwin Payne" | Or, the fic where Edwin no longer wants to exist and seeks to make that reality. Inspired by Thirteen Reasons Why, knowledge of series canon not required.

Review: More hurt than comfort, but in the best way possible. This rips your heart out, but it still leaves with a distinctly hopeful note which I highly appreciate.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero Words: 45,874 Rating: T Summary: Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX “Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Review: Obsessed with how the ghost lore works in this fic. The author plays into the idea of how a ghosts emotions can affect there form and tackles the question of "How far is too far?" brilliantly. Great characterization!

The Case of the Lovesick Student by amurusk Words: 5,151 Rating: Unrated (CW: child abuse, implied SA) Summary: It's not unusual for Charles to bear the brunt of an attack during cases. Charles is the brawn, after all, and he’s thrived in that role in life and death. He’s a soldier, taking a beating and giving one back. It just feels right, keeping his loved ones safe from harm and trusting them to fix whatever mess they’re in. Not that he faces danger alone, they just think of the big picture while Charles handles the immediate threat. Edwin, Crystal, and Niko have all saved him back multiple times over.

But no one has ever physically stepped between him and pain, taken a hit for him.

Review: Charles finally getting to be the one who's defended is a fic premise that we need more of. I love getting a glimpse into Charles experience of wanting to be protected/vulnerable.

it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then by ethan_elliott Words: 3,658 Rating: T Summary: Ghosts could not feel pain. Or much of anything, really. Except in Hell. A place designed to cause eternal agony, and so levelled the playing field by making humans and supernatural entities equal in their perception. Edwin had been corporeal there, subject to hurt and cold, the hammer of a heart in his chest and the struggle of lungs for breath. It was the one place he felt everything.

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. So then why, as Edwin lay in Esther’s torture device helplessly watching Niko disappear from sight, could he feel everything?

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. Right?

—

Or, after Niko’s death, Charles has to rescue Edwin from Hell once more, but this time it’s all in Edwin’s mind.

Review: A great one-shot exploring a world where Edwin isn't sure if he really made it out of hell. I honestly wish this was longer because it was excellently written and the premise is awful /pos.

a kingdom never bound by piilu Words: 1,974 Rating: G Summary: “Fuck, Edwin,” Charles breathes. “You could’ve come got me, you know?” Edwin doesn’t know what to say to that. He would be fine, soon. Not really worth bothering anybody. He just shakes his head and curls up tighter. “You’re alright,” Charles says. He wraps an arm around him. Then his face changes, into something like determination, and he pushes Edwin’s head onto his shoulder. “You’re alright, mate.”

Review: Short and sweet fic about Edwin havin' a bit of a panic attack/sensory overload moment.

Cry With Joy At The Depth Of My Love by coloursflyaway Words: 18,028 Rating: T Summary: “Edwin?”, Crystal asks, and Edwin would say something snarky, maybe even something mean, but Charles is wrapped around him like he’ll never let go again, and there are more important matters at hand. “Crystal, what has happened here?”, he asks, and a few seconds later, their new psychic is standing in front of him, trousers splashed with the coffee she dropped, disbelief written across her face. “I was gone for a few hours and now Charles… and the whole building…” He’s not quite sure how to put it, most likely because he still doesn’t understand, and Crystal looks at him like he come back from the Cat King’s lair with an additional head. “Edwin”, she says, slowly, like she is still searching for the words, “what are you talking about? You’ve been gone for six weeks.”

____________

Edwin takes the Cat King up on his initial offer, so instead of a few hours, he is gone for six weeks. Charles isn't good at coping with it.

Review: Charles really goes through it in this one, so if that's what you're looking for than this will be quite fun. The author does a great job at infusing a sense of panic and despair into the story.

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed by pinklemonades Words: 3,095 Rating: T Summary:

Edwin is in love with his best friend who doesn’t love him back, and the world has not ended. In some ways, he wishes it had.

Edwin deals with the pains of losing a friend while living through the consequences of falling in love with his best friend (aka a Hanahaki Disease post-canon fic).

Review: Very good, short hanahaki AU! Loved the characterization and angst w/ happy ending.

[yurislotusgarden]

Wearing their Clothes, Part 2

ʚїɞ Separately! Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma x Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Part 1 for those who want to read it <3

ʚїɞ word count: 1164 (Fyodor - 329, Nikolai - 368, Sigma - 461)

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names used, reader's gender is not specified in any way, probably ooc but I live for soft characters

Fyodor Dostoevsky

No matter what, you getting his ushanka won't be an accident or a surprise for this Man. He probably knew for quite a long that you wanted to try it on.

Probably would make sure that you won't get it for Some time just to tease you and see your reactions to failing. 

Once he decided he had enough torturing teasing you, he would leave the ushanka on a chair or the bed, in a way that it looks like he for once, doesn't have it in the bathroom with him (Yes the rat showers even if forced) and just left it there. 

So, you obviously had to take your chance and try it on.

////////////////////

"Myshka, what are you doing?"

He definitely came out faster than you anticipated. You spun around, looking like a deer caught in headlights. To say that you took off the ushanka at the speed of light would be an understatement. 

"Ehm... Nothing?" A raised eyebrow. 

"Nothing you say."

 "Yup! Absolutely nothing! Was just looking if my eyebrows are equal!" A dumb response? Very much. Did you care? Not in the slightest, not right now. 

"So my ushanka in your hand doesn't exist?" Fyodor started to walk up to you as he said that. 

You threw the ushanka onto the bed in a hurry. "I don't know what are you talking about Fedya" 

"Sure you don't" 

Fyodor picked up the ushanka from where it lies and put it gently onto your head, fixing the few strands of hair that fell on your face. Are you hallucinating or do you see a small smile on his face? 

"You look nice in it, Myshka" 

“Really?”

“Of course, I wouldn't lie to you after all.”

You looked better in the ushanka than the dark-haired Man first thought, to say the least. And if he told you that you can wear it whenever you want, then no one needs to know, yeah?

Nikolai Gogol 

The little shit /affectionate I swear 

He probably knows you wanna steal either his hat or his cape, but wouldn't give you an opportunity to steal it just to see your reactions. It's amusing and he wants to see your emotions what can I say? 

I feel like the first time wouldn't be an accident but planned by him. Casually kidnapping taking you out in winter or just a colder day without letting you get warm clothes first, resulting in shivering and being cold soon enough. 

"Cold?" Came with a teasing smile from the clown. He knew what he was doing and had the audacity to tease. You swear you will hit him with something once you're back home. 

"Shut up, Kolya. Why did you even bring me out here so suddenly?" Your confusion was as clear as a clean glass. 

"Why, to have Some fun! Time for a quiz, dove!" 

"Oh no" 

You swear Nikolai loves giving you quizzes that no one but the rat Fyodor could get or guess. You could bet with the dark-haired Man in question and win the bet.

////////////////////

"And you lost once again!" 

"I did" You chuckled. As much as you lose, they certainly never feel like ones. "So what happens now that I lost?" A good question as every time you lose, Nikolai manages to make the 'punishment' -his Words not yours- a different one. 

"This!" 

And before you realized it, you felt something heavy on your shoulders, but it also was warm. Looking at yourself, you see that Nikolai put his cloak over you, and fucking hell if you could you would just curl up in a ball and sleep, or even hibernate in this shit. The material inside is softer and warmer than you thought, no wonder he doesn't get cold.

"Your cloak?" 

"Didn't you want to try it on, dove?" 

"Is that why you brought me out in this weather in my pajamas?" 

"Of course! How else could've I given you the honor of wearing my cloak?" 

"..."

"Dove?"

"...Listen here you little shit-"

////////////////////

Next week he whined all around, whether at home or at work, all because of you not cooking his favorite cookies that you do every week.

Sigma

I had to think about what would you even steal from this Man but then I remembered this guy wears heels. 

You probably wouldn't need to think of it that much, it would probably be a random idea you got when noticing that he left them somewhere. I feel like he Has a big ass room in the Sky casino, an apartment more like, so getting the heels that would be left by the door wouldn't be hard at all.

////////////////////

You have to say, that even tho the heels don't fit perfectly on your feet, you are absolutely slaying the look. 

"I have to steal them more often goddamn" You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.

You continued to walk around a little, just for fun, the heels were more comfortable than you thought, and now your confusion about how does Sigma wears these every day and doesn't complain about feet hurting has been cleared up. 

"Name? Have you seen my heels?" Fuck. 

"No? Why?" From what you know he doesn't wear them after 10 pm (22), since people tend to not come to his office much after if anyone even does, so why is he searching for them at 11:30 pm (23:30)? It's almost midnight for fucks sake. 

"They need me down in the Main room, but I can't find them." 

"Maybe you left them somewhere else and don't remember?" 

"Maybe"

You thought you were safe when you heard him walking away… until you heard him walking directly to the bedroom where you were a few minutes later. 

'Shit-' You thought as you realized that and took if the heels, lightly throwing them under the bed so it looks like they were left there after being taken off by Sigma and kicked under by accident. 

You went back to standing in front of the mirror just as the Man Opened the door. 

"You sure you didn't see them?" 

"Yeah. Why?" 

"The heels are under the bed" Came the soft reply from Sigma, together with a finger pointed at the pair of shoes. 

You leaned down, making it look like you didn't know. 

"Oh, sorry love" To your pleasure a barely noticeable blush appeared on his cheeks due to the pet name. 

"Don't worry about it" A quiet response this time. Sigma Walked over to get the heels before putting them on. 

He stopped at the door before he walked out of the room and turned back to you. "I know you tried them on [name], just so you know." And casually Walked out. 

You want to jump from the window. Fuck. 

////////////////////

Sigma didn't mind, not at all. In fact, he bought you a matching pair of heels. It’s needless to say that this pair is one of your favorite shoes.

Notes, comments, reblogs and anything else is greatly appreciated <3

[driflew]

im talking abt witch au in a server so im posting another scene from it. this time Ren fuckign dies.

Martyn hears the fuss before he sees it. He’s looking for Ren—the dog ran off, but the sun has broken through the trees, so Martyn figures it’s not the dog he’s looking for anymore. Ren’s probably sitting naked in the forest somewhere, and as treatable as it would be, Martyn plans to find him before he catches a cold. 

“Don’t let him up—you saw how big his claws were,” says a voice Martyn only sort of recognizes, though what he says is… 

“I’m not stupid. I’m not taking any risks with this thing—I’m not catching whatever he’s got,” another voice, even less familiar. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” this voice, Martyn cannot mistake—Ren. 

Martyn steps a bit closer. He’s just outside the edge of the clearing, ducking behind a tree. Not immediately obvious to anyone in the center, though Martyn can see Ren from his hiding place. He’s surrounded by a few men—Martyn doesn’t know their names, but he knows them to be some of Ren’s neighbors. Most of them steer clear of Ren, but one has his boot on the back of Ren’s neck. 

Ren’s hands are muddy. There’s dirt under his nails and across his stomach. Hair falls around his face, and blood stains his teeth and chin. He looks like an animal, and Martyn’s heart hurts looking at him. 

“Must be full from whatever you already ate, you piece of shit,” the first voice says, and Martyn hears Ren make a choked noise of pain—the man must be increasing the pressure. “Whose blood is that?!” 

“No one’s!” Ren’s wheezing, just a bit, “I caught a deer, that’s all.” 

“A deer never satisfies a thing like you.” 

Ren is caught and there’s no doubt about it, and that means there’s nothing left Martyn can do for him. His cloak is dark, and though the rising sun means it won’t help him hide as well, it’s still effective. If Martyn slips away now, he’ll… he can… 

“My cousin had a wolfman in his town. He said it didn’t stop hunting until it had found a man big enough to chew on until the sun rose again.” 

“I didn’t! I wouldn’t,” Ren insists, “You know me, I’ve lived here since I was born. I wouldn’t. You know that!” 

Martyn tugs his hood on, biting the inside of his mouth. He needs to leave, but leaving Ren is…

“Oh, sure,” scoffs someone else, “And I knew you were human, too. But you’ve turned, and you can't trust a wolf.” 

Ren actually whimpers, a sound Martyn has only ever heard him make as the dog. It hurts to hear, but it has Martyn taking an uncertain step to the side, unsure if he wants to run away. 

He threw Ren to the wolves the first time Ren came to him in order to protect himself—he could have cured Ren, but he didn’t, wanting to keep from the magic he’d have to use for a cure being discovered and reported. 

Ren wouldn’t have reported him. He knows that now. If he’d cured Ren, this wouldn’t be happening. 

…But it is. Ren is doomed, and what can Martyn even do? He’s not a hero. He’s barely—

“Hey!” someone calls. Martyn’s head snaps up, and he locks eyes with the owner of the voice. “There’s someone else there! Who are you?!” 

Martyn takes a step back, but the nearest man grabs him by the arm, yanking him into the light. Ren twists his head under the boot on his neck, and his face pales as Martyn is dragged into the light. 

“Christ, do you mind?! Jeez!” Martyn says, shaking the man’s hand off. He brushes his sleeve, annoyed—he’s doing his absolute best to play the part of a random passerby, “What on earth is going on here? I came out to collect some medicinal herbs, and you’ve got some guy under your… is that Ren?” 

“Used to be. Wolf’s curse has him now. Who knows how long ago he turned,” someone says, “Dunno if you’ve ever really met Ren, Doctor.” 

“You’re collecting herbs, you said?” another says, “Why don’t you have any in your basket?” 

Martyn looks down and bites back a swear. All he brought was food, water, and a cloak and some loose pants for Ren—obvious ties, and a clear contradiction to his alibi. 

“Yeah, just woke up and came out for them, though I haven’t found any,” Martyn says, “Easiest to look for by sunlight.” 

“You know, Doctor, I heard something weird about you,” says the one with a shoe on Ren’s neck. Ren lets out a choked noise, another pound of pressure on his spine. “I heard you were seen with the wolf a few months ago.” 

“What? Like, Ren?” Martyn asks, playing innocent, “Sure, Ren comes to my stand, but I thought he was sick…?” 

“Not at your stand. In the night,” the man says, “I heard you’re fraternizing with rabid animals. You’re a witch.” 

Martyn laughs, a touch nervous, “A witch? No. I’m a great doctor and all, but I’m not magic.” 

“You were commanding the wolf-thing, making it obey you. Only a witch could do that,” the man insists, “Joseph’s wife saw you. She looked out the window at the awful beast and saw it knock your hood down before it submitted to your command.” 

“That’s— your friend’s wife must have mistaken me for someone else,” Martyn says. 

“My wife knows what she saw!” says a man who must be Joseph, not that Martyn cares to turn around and check which one that is. 

“You’ve been spending time with him even when he’s not in the form of a monster,” someone says, and Martyn sweats. He should have kicked Ren out, he should have decided not to check on Ren that night, he should have— 

“Martyn’s helping me with the other symptoms,” Ren’s voice cuts through Martyn’s spiraling. Martyn’s head snaps down to watch as Ren attempts to look up at his captors. “I didn’t tell him about my— my curse. He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him.”

“Doesn’t make him not a witch.” 

“He’s not!” Ren insists, “He’s a friend I lied to. Nothing else.”

“The witch was commanding him,” says another man, taking a step closer to Martyn. There’s an axe in his hand, still clean. “He must be commanding Ren now. Why else would Ren defend him?” 

“He didn’t do anything!” Ren insists, “I swear. I swear, Martyn hasn’t used any magic. Please leave him alone, please.” 

Martyn looks down at Ren begging on the ground and his stomach turns with nausea. Ren isn’t prideful, exactly, but like this he seems to have no pride at all.

It shreds Martyn inside to see him like that. Even now, it’s not his own life he’s begging for—Ren wants to protect Martyn. Christ, and Martyn had been about to leave him. 

Martyn knows how it’ll make him look, but he pulls the cloak out of his basket and steps toward Ren. 

“I’m not going to do anything,” Martyn says, holding up the cloak to show the men, “But c’mon. He’s not an animal. Ren’s always been a good man. Let him have some semblance of his dignity before you kill him.” 

“Careful,” the man with a foot on Ren says, “This isn’t Ren anymore. If you’d seen the claws on him…” 

“I’ll be careful,” Martyn says, “Just let him up a second. He’s got no claws anymore.”

The man with a foot on Ren’s neck stares, then releases their hold on him. Martyn only hesitates a moment before kneeling in front of Ren, throwing the cloak over him like a blanket. 

“Sit up,” Martyn whispers, dropping his hand to Ren’s hair. He threads his fingers through for barely a moment before removing them, “Don’t die lying down in the dirt.” 

Ren does as he’s told, sitting up and pulling the cloak around his front. He doesn’t look much better—he’s still dirty, with a bloody chin and knotted hair—but at least he can claim some small piece of pride. 

The way he looks at Martyn is devastating. This close, Martyn can see the sad, guilty eyes, the defeated hang of his shoulders. Martyn may have known he was doomed when he saw him here, but it’s another thing to see defeat so obvious on the face of someone so stubborn and headstrong as Ren. 

Martyn actually gets up and takes a step back—he can’t be that close to Ren looking at him like that. 

The man who had been standing on Ren earlier drops his sword down, holding the edge below Ren’s neck. Ren doesn’t flinch—less an admirable display of courage, and more a simple acceptance of what’s to come. 

“So, Doctor, why did you have that with you?” the man asks, “You’re already wearing a cloak. You wouldn’t carry it unless you knew someone would need it.” 

Martyn looks at his basket. There’s still a pair of pants in there, making his alibi tricky. 

“I did know he’d need it,” Martyn admits, quiet. 

“I told him. I asked him to bring it. I didn’t tell him why,” Ren lies again, fingers tight on the edge of the cloak. 

“Like hell! He was with you, wasn’t he?!” the man says. 

“The wolf defending him is proof. He must be brainwashed by the witch’s magic,” another man says. 

“Monsters have to stick together. Just get rid of them both!” 

“No,” Martyn says, “Look, Ren, I appreciate you lying for me, but you don’t have to. I did know about Ren’s affliction, but we were treating it as just that—an illness. I’ve been trying to help him treat it for the past few months. I never commanded him, never spent a night with him, but we’ve tried a few medicines to lessen the effects of the moon on him and keep him in check. I knew, but not because I’m a witch. I’m a doctor, and Ren came to me as a patient looking for a cure. That’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t you just report him?!” 

“Like I said,” Martyn says, taking another step back, “Ren’s always been a good man.”

Someone grabs Martyn’s arm, stopping him from moving any further back. 

“Good enough to make yourself this damn suspicious for?” he asks, “Because the way I see it, you protected him ‘cuz you’re a witch, and he’s your bitch.”

Martyn resists the urge to cringe at the taunt, trying his best to maintain that aloof doctor facade he’s been wearing so effortlessly for years. He scoffs, folding his arms. 

“No one is good enough to make myself this suspicious over. Especially not some wolfman I just met,” Martyn says, “But could you imagine how much money I’d have made if I’d actually cured him? There’s no one else in the world who could do that. I could charge anything I wanted for it. I saw the chance and I took it, but clearly, it hasn’t paid off.”

Ren says nothing, face unreadable, and Martyn scrambles to make it clear he’s lying. 

“Hell,” Martyn adds, gesturing one arm at Ren, “I could charge Ren anything I wanted. He couldn’t not pay what I asked—at best, I would stop trying to cure him. At worst, I could report what he was to everyone. Shame it had to end this way, though.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you,” Ren whispers. There’s a venom to it Martyn has never seen from Ren before, far more convincing than Martyn expects. Ren’s head snaps up, and the pain in his eyes has a fire behind it now, “You were supposed to help me!” 

“I would’ve! But I don’t want to be a small town doctor forever,” Martyn says, “The city’s much nicer. I almost have enough to open my own practice, and a few more, er… we’ll say treatments for you would have helped a lot. Especially if any of them had actually worked.”

“Is that all you wanted from me? My money?” Ren asks. 

“I mean, sure. What’s a wolfman need with money, anyway?” Martyn asks, “Your lot never live long. Do you mind if I collect your estate after this? It’s not much anymore, but it’d be really nice to sell the rest.”

“Bastard,” Ren spits. 

“That doesn’t sound like a no,” Martyn says, and Ren bares his teeth into a snarl. Almost immediately, the sword at his neck cuts into his flesh, turning his growl into a sound of pain. 

“Stop riling him up,” the man says, “We don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Right,” Martyn says, putting up his arms and taking another step back. If they knew Ren like he does, they’d know the answer is nothing. Ren wouldn’t hurt any of them. 

Not that Ren defends himself. He keeps glaring at Martyn, and though it hurts, it’s better than the despair. 

“We need him dead. We’ve stalled long enough already,” the man holding Martyn’s arm says. 

“Just run him through already!” says someone behind him. 

“Drown him, wolves can’t swim,” 

“Yes they can! You have to burn them.” 

“That’s witches, idiot!” 

Ren seems a bit paler as they argue. Martyn can only imagine how he feels—these are neighbors he’s known all his life, and now they’re debating his manner of death right in front of him. It’s the end of the line, and a gruesome one at that. 

“No! All of you are wrong. You have to cut its head off,” someone else yells, “Wolfmen are sturdy, they don’t die any other way.” 

“Hey, Doctor,” the man with the sword says. “Do you ever treat animals?”

“Occasionally,” Martyn says, unsure if he likes the question. 

“Have you ever put down a dog?”

“What?” Martyn asks. His callous costume slips for a moment, though he’s quick to put it back on. “Sure, once or twice. I don’t usually bother with treating dogs, though.” 

“You bothered with a wolf.” 

“A lucrative wolf. People don’t pay as much for dogs as they would themselves,” Martyn says, “Medicine doesn’t generalize that much, you know. I don’t know how to treat anything on an animal beyond stitching up a wound.”

“Sure, sure,” the man says, “But everything dies the same. Even wolfmen. Even witches.”

Martyn narrows his eyes. “I’m not a witch.”

“Prove it, then,” the man says. He pulls his sword away, offering it to Martyn. “Kill the wolfman. If he really means nothing to you, it should be easy. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re a witch in league with him.”

“I don’t even know how to, to— what do you even want me to do?” Martyn asks. 

“You’ve chopped firewood, haven’t you?” the man asks, “It’s probably like that.”

Martyn stares at Ren a long time, but Ren isn’t looking at him. His knuckles are white, and at the hem, his hand shakes. 

If Martyn can do nothing else for Ren, he can at least make this quick. 

“If it’s like firewood,” Martyn says, “Give me an axe.”

— — —

They set Ren up on an old stump. It’s a bit too tall, and the position he takes the lean his neck against it is awkward, undignified. Most of what they do leading up to his death is—letting him keep the cloak is the only reprieve they afford him. No one lets him wipe the blood from his mouth or pull the twigs from his hair. He’s barely even let off the ground to move to his chopping block—it would be too easy to run on his own two feet, and so he’s made to crawl. 

Martyn is the final person willing to even to use Ren’s name. 

“Part your hair, Ren,” Martyn instructs, “I don’t want to miss.” 

Ren is allowed to do that, at least, pulling his hair away to clear up the skin there. Martyn tugs down the back of the cloak himself, letting his fingers linger at the base of Ren’s spine, looking at what, exactly, he’s about to do. 

His throat is pressed against old bark, putting him at an odd angle. Martyn says nothing, another of many decisions he’ll come to regret. 

“Okay,” Martyn mutters, lifting the axe, “Any last words?”

Ren closes his eyes. “I’ll see you in Hell, Doctor.” 

It should sound like an insult, but Martyn knows it isn’t. It doesn’t make it any easier. 

Martyn swings. The angle is crooked, diagonal against Ren’s bent neck. Martyn knows he’s fucked it when he hears the sound Ren makes: a choked scream, loud enough to startle the birds and as pained as it is wet. 

Martyn rips the axe out of his flesh. Blood streams down the blade and onto the cloak, but Martyn ignores it. Ren begins to sag and Martyn panics, slamming it back down. This angle is worse, and Ren cries a second time. His body shudders, patches of hair appearing on his shoulders and down his arms. There’s shouting behind Martyn, but he doesn’t process the words.  

Ren is in pain. The wolf has only ever wanted to protect him, to soothe him. He’s scared and in pain and the wolf wants to help and it’s Martyn that’s causing it. 

Martyn slams the axe down a third time. Ren makes no noise, at least, or maybe it’s drowned out by the splatter of blood, or the axe hitting bone, or bark snapping under the grip of Ren’s claws. 

Martyn’s hands and chest and legs are covered in it. He’ll probably never feel clean again. 

Rip. Raise. Swing. Rip. Raise. Swing. 

It takes a total of five blows before Martyn hits wood, Ren’s head falling away onto the dirt. 

His body slumps against the wood, leaving blood smeared all down the bark. Like a spider’s legs curling in death, the claws and fur retract as the life leaves him. He looks smaller like that, crumpled against the ground. 

He’s dead. Ren is dead, and Martyn murdered him. 

Martyn processes very little about the next few moments. He’s only seen a few bodies in his life, but this is the worst yet. Ren had been kind beyond anyone Martyn had ever met, and Martyn had killed him. If Martyn had cured him, if Martyn had sedated him, if Martyn had stepped in and saved him, if—

“—tor, Doctor!” Martyn snaps back to attention. The man with the sword is in front of him, and he actually looks concerned. 

“He’s— I’m so, you—” Martyn doesn’t know what he’s saying. Ren is dead and he wants to apologize and he wants to curse this man’s entire bloodline to ends twice as gruesome and violent. He feels small, smaller than Ren against that stump. He feels like a kid again, trying not to sob as he’s carried away from Jay’s smoldering house. His vision is blurring already, and his hands are shaking so bad that he can barely hold the axe. 

“Jesus, you look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I am,” Martyn says, honest. He hears the axe fall to the ground, though he’s not aware of letting it go. 

“Haven’t you, like, done surgery?” the man asks. 

“That— it’s, not like that,” Martyn says, “They don’t— they don't bleed that much. They’re not— they don’t feel— they don’t make noise.”

He hears someone behind him say something like ‘can’t be a witch with such a weak stomach.’ Jay had a weak stomach, too. Was no good at hurting anyone, not even if he wanted to. Not even to defend himself. 

Just like Ren. Not like Martyn. 

Martyn had always thought, if he’d only had the power he has now, he’d have leapt to Jay’s defense. He’s always told himself he’d have saved the only person who ever loved him, comforted himself with versions of the world where he and Jay escaped. 

Ren didn’t love him, but Ren had made himself the only other person who’d gotten so far as to like him. And Martyn hadn’t just let him die, no—Martyn had killed Ren himself. 

What was the point of all this power if Martyn is still a coward? How did he let it happen again? When did he lose sight of what he’d gained it all for?

What can he do with it now? 

“Take a seat, man,” the man says, and Martyn shakes his head—if he sits now, he’ll never get the nerve to move again. 

What can he do with his magic? There must be some way to fix this. Martyn is a healer, better than any other. There must be some spell for sutures or blood or bone, something that could fix this, something that could bring Ren back to h— 

…Something that could bring Ren back. 

Martyn looks up, finally meeting the man’s eyes. He’s still shaking, but he gathers what determination he can. 

“Let— let me bury him,” Martyn says. 

“What?”

“Let me,” Martyn tries again, trying to keep his voice from trembling, “Let me bury him.”

“Why the hell would you bury a wolfman?”

“So he, his body,” Martyn’s determined, but the adrenaline in his body has him scrambled. It’s hard to think, to speak, “It’ll infect the, the wolves, if— if they eat it, the local wolves, they’ll, if we just—”

The man raises a hand, cutting him off.

“So we’ll burn it,” the man says. Martyn shakes his head. 

“I need to, to be the one to,” Martyn says, and when he can’t explain himself, he tacks on the one bit of magic even humans recognize: “Please.” 

“No graveyard will take a wolfman,” the man says. 

“I’ll bury him out here,” Martyn says, “Please.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” the man asks, “Don’t tell me you feel guilty.”

“I’ve never— I’ve never lost a patient before,” Martyn says, almost a whisper. The man’s face actually softens. He believes Martyn to be a human doctor, after all, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He sets a hand on Martyn’s shoulder, sympathetic. 

“I know he looked human, but that thing wasn't human anymore,” he says, “You don’t have to feel bad. It was us or him.”

Martyn doesn’t want to be us with this man. Being safe with these people isn’t worth this. It wasn’t worth Jay. Martyn has paid so steeply for this safety and belonging, and it was never worth a goddamned thing. 

“Ren’s always— always been a good man,” Martyn says, “Just— I need to do this. Let me do this. Please.”

The man sighs, squeezing Martyn’s shoulder. “If this is what you need to sleep tonight.”

It isn’t. If only it were so simple as ever sleeping again. 

“Thank you,” Martyn says anyway. 

— — —

The first thing Martyn does is close Ren’s eyes. 

He doesn’t look at them. He has no idea what Ren’s expression looks like because he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t check, instead focusing on picking him up. 

He picks Ren’s head up first, gentle, respectful as he can be. He doesn’t take Ren by his hair or hold him by the face, instead cupping Ren’s chin in his hands. Ren’s hair cascades down his arms unobstructed, wet strands and the drenched wound coating Martyn’s sleeves in even more blood. 

Next, Martyn empties the basket. That’s careless—Martyn dumps everything on the ground without even looking. The only thing he picks back up is the pants, which he lays down on the base of the basket, just to give Ren a bit of a cushion when he rests him inside. 

Martyn sets his head down gently, leaning on his cheek. Though he tries to put Ren’s hair inside the basket, plenty of it spills out over the edges. 

Once Ren is secure, he sets the basket in the crook of his arm, and he moves to the rest of him. 

Ren’s body is still curled against the stump. The bleeding has slowed, but it hasn’t stopped entirely.

First, Martyn lays Ren’s body on his back. He covers Ren as best he can with the cloak, wrapping him carefully in the dark fabric. It’s difficult to see blood on, at least, though his stained neck is impossible to miss. Martyn has to be careful as he bends down, hooking his arms under Ren’s knees and back without tipping Ren’s head out of his basket. 

Ren is light when Martyn finally stands. Martyn’s already exhausted—staying up all night hadn’t done him any favors, nor had his awful morning—but he notices that. Ren had been a lumberjack before he… got sick. He must’ve lost the muscle at some point, though Martyn hadn’t noticed. 

Martyn rubs his thumb against Ren’s shoulder through the fabric of his cloak. His body is still warm. 

“It’s going to be okay, Ren,” he whispers, unable to care about being overheard. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything. I promise.”

He doesn’t apologize—as much as he wants to, Martyn holds his tongue. Now isn’t the time for apologies. 

Martyn will save it until Ren can hear it.

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x daughter!Reader (Platonic)

So, I finally gave in and watched the series. It was cool but the pacing was a bit too fast for me and sometimes i felt like it was deviating way too much from the original plot for such a short series. But wow, y'all were right about Alastor. He stole the show. I wanted to write something for him, but I was not sure how to proceed given that he is aroace (tremendous irony considering that I might be aroace irl). Nothing seemed to fit, given that this dude has never had a bit of romance in his life and refuses to do so. But I came accross a wonderful fic about Alastor having an adopted daughter who became an angel, and everything made sense to me. I saw the light. Whoever you are, I will find your fic again, like it, and reblog it.

Big reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason. TW: gory elements, blood, near decapitation, implied death threat towards a child.

This is not proof read. So please excuse any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Part I (You are here!)｜Part II｜Part III

This deer man has never shown interest in neither romance nor sex. So the only logical conclusion is that he adopted you when you were just a baby.

He found the idea of having that much power and control over someone amusing, molding them just the way he desired.

How unexpected it was for him to suddenly find that it was you who had him wrapped around your little finger and not the other way around!

But how could he not adore you! You were delightful! You were his little fawn, always so sweet and loving, he would have thought his own beloved mama had been secretly raising you from the afterlife!

Oh, with how much joy your eyes filled when you saw your papa return home after a long day at work! He was your everything, always smiling and fun loving, but also knowing where to draw the line.

He absolutely loved singing to you, his tunes filled with rythm along with the smoothness of his voice were enough to give you a full night of sleep filled with sweet dreams.

And while you dreamed... Your dad was outside, creating nightmares.

He made sure you never got to see that side of him. You were too naive and pure, your light could become corrupted.

Very overprotective father. Always subtly controlling who are you hanging out with and how much time (he would despise having to share his beloved child's attention with someone else) "Darling, I think you have already played enpugh with X I'm sure their parents miss them." (and if they don't, they WILL).

Finding about your Papa's double life would be entirely on accident. One day, he would take you to his job at the radio station, and some drunk and racist asshole would harass you on the streets, terrifying you out of your mind. Your dad kept a calm and collected expression never once losing that charming smile of his, but you could tell something was off. He quickly brushed it off, casually reminding you that it was just your terrified imagination playing tricks on you.

That night, your papa was taking too long from the station, so you decided to come and get him (dunno how safe the streets would be for a child that time because reader is about 13-14 years old). You wished you had waited and stayed home. Because the only light was coming from the recording studio, and peeking through the small opening, your blood froze in your veins.

Your Papa was pushing off himself the dead body of the same man that had assaulted you early that day. His pristine white shirt that he always made sure to keep in perfect conditions was drenched with blood that was quickly drying up.

You quietly tiptoed your way back to the entrance, wondering how you weren't heard given how loud your heart was hammering in your chest.

You felt like your entire world had come crashing down, and as you returned home, you tried your best picking up the remaining pieces.

Your beloved father would never do something like that, right? There had to be a misunderstanding. That was it. That man had viciously assaulted you earlier that day, maybe he came back and tried to attack your dad at his job? It had to be self defense. That was the only option.

Your dad seemed to be breathing heavily, probably from the adrenaline rush from having had to take a life in self defense, but had you not been so shocked and scared, maybe you would have noticed the manic glee in his eyes and the way his smile had widened into something outright demonic.

You decided you would never tell anyone. Yes, it was horrifying that it had ended up like this, but telling anybody could get your dad in serious trouble and in this case he was not the one to blame.

So you kept quiet. Tried to act as normal as you could in front of your father and everyone else. If Alastor noticed, he never told. Everything seemed back to normal, until...

Until one day someone knocked at your door. A police officer. He seemed to be asking questions about the guy you saw your dad kill, protect himself from, a week ago. He was the son of some big shot from the city. A very important one. Rats.

He had come knocking on your door because some witeness had said that the very same day of his murder he had saw him in an altercation with your dad. Double rats.

It was amazing how your father didn't lose composure at all, not even for a second, always keeping a calm smile on his face while he patiently described the events of that day. You could barely refrain from shaking, how was he so relaxed?.

You knew your father was lying, he had to. What else could he do? Confess that that man had assaulted him again at his studio at night and he had to fight for his life? He would be hanged. No one would believe his word against that of a rich white man.

When the officer left, you thought that would be the end of it, your father's charms having won him over as always.

Nothing could have prepared you for what happened a week later.

The first red flag would have been having your father letting you stay at a friend's house for the night. That never happened. Your father always insisting very dramatically that if he were to be apart from you for an entire night he would surely die of grief!

But that day something seemed... Weird. Your father had a determined look on his face and gave you no explanation when you asked if there was something wrong.

You couldn't sleep, there was this nagging at the back of your head that was practically screaming at you that you should return home right now.

You quietly sneaked out of your friend's house in the middle of the night and made your way back home. That unnerving feeling growing inside your mind. 'Just a quick peek, just to make sure he's alright and I'll go back to my friend's'

The lights at your home were on, but it was so dim you could barely make out anything. It was coming from the basement. Someone was humming a tune, you recognized your father's voice.

There was a terrible smell coming from there, like rotten fruit mixed with burning trash. It made you gag, but at the same time you needed to know what was going on there.

Curiosity killed the cat, that was your father always told you.

On top of the wooden table, laid a dead body that you sadly knew too well. It was the police offcer that had come home to interrogate you a week ago. His chest had been cut open and some organs seemed missing. His head had been nearly torn from his body and was only hanging by a few tendons in his neck. The blood was forming a sticky puddle on the floor.

If that wasn't horrifying enough for you the worst part had to be the look on your father's face. Joy. Pure unbridled joy and elation. It chilled you to the bone.

You tried to take a step back, tried to return to you friend's house and forget everything, pretend this had never happened. But your shoe got stuck. And you fell backwards.

That caught Alastor's attention. His joyful expression changed into one of confusion, but never once losing his smile.

"Y/N?" He asked flatly.

You bolted. You didn't know what to do where to run, but you knew you had to escape before he caught you.

You could hear him giving chase, calling your name. You could see him getting close, reaching for you.

What you didn't see was the truck that ended it all.

[thicctails]

Gravity Falls is finally popping off again, so naturally my obsession with it has been dragged out from deep within me and thrust to the front of my mind, so here's a collection of various au ideas i have.

Explanations below! Contains Book of Bill Spoilers!!

A different form, a different time: Due to a widescale time and space fuck up, both Bill Cipher and the Axolotl get reincarnated (temporarily?) as humans. Specifically as older teens/very young adults. Hot topic wannabe and pink gumball son of a bitch must learn to navigate the hell that is mortality and human puberty as they set out on a road trip to try and reach the only place they can think of to find answers: Gravity Falls.

Obligatory dragon au: exactly what it says on the tin.

Time Stuck... with a twist: Something goes horribly wrong with the Time tape, resulting in Mabel, Dipper, and a 12 year old Billy Cipher being sent to the 80's. Trapped in the past/future, depending on who you ask, the preteens end up on the run with a mullet-wearing grifter with a familiar face, and must learn to work together to set things right. However, having two Bills' will make things much harder than usual, especially since one absolutely adores his star-marked humans and their weird Larger Human, while the other wants nothing more than to watch them burn.

Monster Falls but they're both Unitaurs: Mabel and Dipper are twins, let them be the same monster you cowards.

Under the Falls: This is one of my older ones! Its a strange little mer! au, where a younger Stan and Ford must take in their niblings after a monster hunter slaughters the rest of their family. Baby mers cant disguise themselves, so they must stay in the nearby lake. Luckily, their cat-eyed deer friend is more than happy to keep them company, and take them on Non-Grunkle-Approved adventures.

I Grow Maddened (From Grief): In the Book of Bill, we learn that Mabel and Dipper don't make it to 13 in pretty much every other timeline. Now, Bill 100% could be bullshitting, but i like to think thats its at least partially true: Dippers and Mabels don't tend to last in the Multiverse. But what about their Grunkles? Surely there are quite a few timelines where one set of twins is left to mourn the other.

This au follows a Ford that lost his Dipper and Mabel to a dangerous creature that escaped confinement while he was distracted by his work. It managed to also near fatally wound Stanley and nearly take one of Ford's eyes before he managed to kill it, leaving him with two dead family members and his twin on the brink. Consumed by guilt and refusal to live in a world without his beloved niblings, Ford set Stanley up on cryogenic life support and managed to lie his way into more time by convincing the twin's parents that both of them would be more successful under his tutelage.

Once everything was in place, he threw himself back into the multiverse (this time with a way back) and began hopping through other timelines, looking for the perfect replacements for his missing family. Man spirals hard, eventually deciding that the twins, when he gets them back, would not be leaving his and Stanley's sides again, because his twin is also not leaving. After all, their parents clearly dont value them like they should, and Ford knows that it will be easy to remove any memory of the twins all together.

Euclid + Scalene live (and get better children): Somehow spared from the genocide of their entire dimension, the deeply wounded Cipher parents eventually find themselves inexplicably drawn to a little backwater planet. The two find themselves becoming attached to a pair of twins that seem blessed by the Axolotl itself, and although their last child had caused violence on a previously unseen scale, both Euclidians find that they want to try again. The Ciphers become mostly unseen guardians to the little Pines, content to simply watch over them and bring them sweet dreams while they struggle to hold themselves together.

Then Bill shows up, and everything goes to shit.

[thebestofoneshots]

IDEAS? I GOT YOU!!!

ok so this just came to me as I was reading your response but VAMPIRE READER MY BELOVED!!!!

Hear me out! Plot point I imagine:

It’s a full moon lily goes out to the forbidden forest (this could be before lily finds out about Remus being a werewolf or maybe she had to go get something and she’s only on the outskirts of the forest ) she’s trying to get what she needs quickly and efficiently as it is late and well forbidden. She hears something lurking around her but she can’t tell from which direction. Is it a deer? A bunny? Another person? She doesn’t really want to find out so instead she quickly and quietly decides to get the hell out of there but before she can successfully leave the forest MOONY JUMPS OUT! Lilly stumbles back before booking it in the other direction not thinking about anything besides “get the fuck away from the danger” moony is gaining fast but before he can catch her JAMES COMES TO THE THE RESCUE! he shoves moony aside and tries to keep moony away from lily. At first lily stares at the stag in shock because holy shit this giant stag just saved me but as moony tries to claw at her and the stag bellows (is that what it’s called?) she remembers her need to run and starts running again. But uh oh! Her ankle is twisted! So now she’s hobbling away as fast as she can cursing under her breath because she’s too smart to get herself into such a dumb situation like this!

Now there’s only so much James can do against moony by himself but he tries his damn hardest before moony gets out of his hold and starts chasing after Lily again this time with James hot on his tail. James yet again shoves moony aside and they tussle on the ground as lily is just inches away watching in horror as the stag who saved her gets throw into a tree. This is it she thinks. This is how I die. As the stag calls out a pained cry and as she closes her eyes accepting her early demise……nothing. Wait nothing? Quickly she opens her eyes to see someone in front of her. READER! Who in their right mind would fight a werewolf? How is this person fighting a werewolf bare handed? She stares up at this mystery person and can only see so much. because of the darkness theses not enough to she can conclude about this person but she can tell they went to hogwarts based on the clothes they’re wearing. As she continues to stare in shock she notices the person is holding the werewolf back by its jaw. Drool dripping down the persons arms. The stag is watching in shock or confusion? It’s hard to tell knowing he’s probably concussed.

The mystery person tells lily to run. She can see the persons canines and is appalled at how sharp they are. Are those fangs? She wonders. But before she can ask out loud they yell for her to run as they throw the werewolf back at least a couple feet and without a second thought she runs as fast as her sprained ankle can handle. Hearing grunts and growls in the distance. She runs as she hears screams. She runs until she reaches hogwarts. She runs until she reaches the gryfindor common room. She runs until she reaches her dorm room. She slides down the door and try’s to catch her breath closing her eyes until she ends up falling asleep against the door.

This was long and probably really shitty but hear me out. you can take this and make it like 10 times better it’d be amazing!

OK IM GONE!!! 🏃‍♀️

BRO I LOVE THIS!

AND it could totally be the beginning of the story as well. We could INTRODUCE the reader like this and start it with Lily's POV. I mean omniscient but focusing on her, and then from there build up until that point and the moment she sees the reader she can have a mini sexuality crisis bc HOW can this hot person do this?

But also, I kinda dig the idea that Remus would absolutely love the reader on a platonic kind of way because OMG there IS someone in the world that could actually fucking control Moony and they would become besties bc neither of them asked to be what they are and it'd be so freaking interested in exploring that side of the story as well.

AND since I AM writing vampires for the last Maraudween I feel like I'm actually going to have enough practice to be able to make this one happen ufff.

AND THE NAME?!?!? We could have a super meta name for the story bc Vampires are already super cool and did I mention to you guys I'm currently reading Dracula? I'm SOOOOO ready for this one!

[ashtons-lemon-tree]

How the boys react to a reader who struggles with keeping track of all their nicknames - Hyung line

Bang Chan

'Rhino finally wrangled his cats into their crates so he'll meet up with us in 20 minutes.' You were hoping he wouldn't catch the deer in the headlights look on your face.

If it wasn't for the mention of cats, it would've taken a few seconds longer, going down the line of who Chan was referring to as 'Rhino.'

'What just happened?' Chan now is the confused one. It was a simple statement, nothing about it should've crossed any wires. And knowing him, you were aware that he wouldn't let the matter go until you fessed up.

'I might or might not know your guys' nicknames.' Chan lets out a small giggle, not to mock or belittle you but because he genuinely finds it adorable. Spends the night going through all the boy's nicknames. 'So Minho is Mino, Lino, LK...' just going down the line. In the future, if you forget, he told you to just shoot him a text.

Minho

'Y/n, Seungmin's Minnie. You've been friends with all of us for a few months now, you really haven't figured that out?' His words sound mean but there's a genuine curiosity to it. Wondering how he hadn't figured out sooner.

Happened when he heard you muttering all the '-innie' nicknames to yourself as if checking them off one by one before going 'who the fuck is Minnie?' It's even worse when he discovers that you used to have a notes app to keep track of it all. Figuring it could be worse, you've could of made a Quizlet.

'Wait, you thought I was Minnie?' You don't know why he's shocked. It wasn't entirely illogical. Minho-Minnie. But you guess it made more sense for Seungmin, seeing it was a slight elongation of the end bit. -min.

After discovering this, he refuses to call any of the boys by their government name, plus any nicknames close to said name. So no Chan for Chris. Once learning which nicknames you struggle with the most, he makes those his go-to's.

It's part of his refusal to baby you when faced with something difficult. Knowing he would absolutely hate it if the roles were reversed and you ended up babying him. Doesn't mind you being mad or annoyed at him for it.

Changbin

‘Who’s Jikseu?’ You innocently ask, having woken up to his ringtone blaring with 5 missed phone calls from someone dubbed ‘Jikseu.’ Too tired to answer it yourself, aware that it’s probably one of the boys.

‘Why didn’t he just leave a voicemail?’ He grumbled, taking the phone from you to call ‘Jikseu’ back. Not realizing he didn’t answer your question. It was still early in the morning, Changbin having just returned from a run. It’s only until after he showers and is about to give you a ‘good morning’ kiss that he recalls what you had asked.

'Jikseu is Felix.' You let out an 'ah' sound at this, entering it into your mind palace. Mentally sounding out the syllables, attempting to mimic exactly how Changbin said it. 'He says he misses hanging out with you, by the way.' Having told the sunshine boy that they'd plan an outing soon. It was well known that Binnie enjoyed that one of his closest friends and his partner got along so well.

Slowly waiting as you finally get out of bed to eat breakfast together. 'So what nicknames do you know?' Ladling some miso soup into two separate bowls.

Hyunjin

You don't give him a chance to figure it out, knocking on the open door to his bedroom as he sat behind his easel. 'I told you not to interrupt me, Jingjingie!' Jumping in surprise when he heard your voice. 'Not Jingjingie, whoever that is.' Hyunjin placed down his palette to wrap his arms around your waist.

Continuing on like usual, 'am I annoying you?' Hyunjin tended to get lost in his own world. Holed up in his room with music turned up to 100. 'No, did that thing again.' He apologetically kissed your cheek. Assuming that you had been calling for him and he had flat out ignored said calls.

Leaving the zen-full zone you had created, your curiosity getting the best of you. 'But seriously, who's Jingjingie?' Still figuring out which of his friends you meshed with. Not having interacted with any of the other boys to think of them as whiny. 'Changbin, he's been messing with me all day.'

'Aw, he wants your attention,' you cooed. Booping his nose as you did so. 'He's being a pain in my ass is what he's being.' Despite his tone, his words had no real bite to them. 'Oh c'mon it's cute.'

[sethsclearwater]

LMAO READER AND JARED GETTING HIGH AF WHILE READERS BOYFRIENDS (embry and paul) ARE CONFUSED AFFF ON WHATS GOING ON WHILE THEY TRYNA ACT SOBER BUT KEEP LAUGHING AT EVERYTHING😭😭

PLEASEEEEE💀💀

...

"jared," you burst into laughter right after you said his name, both of you cracking up over nothing.

the two of you had decided to share a blunt about a half an hour prior and were just now feeling the effects of your decision. unfortunately for the two of you, your boyfriends - embry and paul - had gotten back from patrol slightly earlier than they originally thought so they walked in just as the two of you started cracking each other up.

"hey princess," paul smiled when he saw you, quickly stepping over to your place on the couch to give you a soft kiss.

you giggled, smiling up at him, doing your best to look as normal as possible, "everything okay?" embry asked softly as he sat down next to you, gently cupping your face in his hand so he could scan your face.

you nodded, smiling at him too. you were too afraid to say anything, already knowing that if you opened your mouth it'd be a dead giveaway that you and jared were cooked out of your minds.

"hm," embry hummed, looking over to paul who shrugged, "did you make her dinner or anything yet?" embry asked jared who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

the face he made had you instantly cracking up, bursting into a fit of giggles which led jared to do the same thing a moment later.

"okay what the fuck did you two do?" paul asked, chuckling as he crouched down in front of you to get a better look at you.

"jared," you turned to the male beside you and burst into laughter again when you saw his expression, both of you doing an absolutely horrific job of pretending to be sober.

"oh my god," paul groaned as he got up and noticed the blunt in the ashtray next to jared, "you seriously got her high you moron?" he asked, rolling his eyes when jared nodded.

embry chuckled, picking up and pulling you into his lap which had you squealing, bursting into another fit of giggles at the action, "you're high?" embry questioned, chuckling when you nodded.

"just a little bit." you whispered, giggling when embry pulled you close to him and pressed his lips to your hair, "jared and i are trying to watch a movie." you whispered to embry who nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before allowing you to crawl off his lap and over to jared who had laid back down on the couch while paul chewed him out for getting high with you.

"outta the way paul, me and princess are watching a movie tonight," jared mused dramatically, both of you laughing as you pulled a blanket over your waist and curled into embry's side.

"move fatass," paul grumbled, dramatically pushing jared out of the way so he could sit in between the two of you, "how much did you smoke kitten?" paul asked you, his tone softening as he spoke to you.

you giggled, smiling up at him, "i dunno," you beamed, puckering your lips and he just rolled his eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before allowing you to get him under the blanket with you and embry as well.

"alright just..." he trailed off, "just watch the movie, yea?" he suggested and you giggled, nodding as you took his hand and interlaced your fingers, happy to be between both of your imprinters.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

I made the mistake of mentioning to @akitasimblr that I could write a whole teal deer about this scene, so she of course enabled me.

cw: i'm discussing my thought process behind it and what i was bearing in mind as i set it up and wrote it, so this does deal with consent in more depth, and in much less vague wording, than in the actual scene. proceed with caution. and stay safe out there, everyone.

As I’ve said, initially it was intended to be something light and silly about Araminta’s “oops” moment where she sent an ‘r u up’ style text to the bachelor’s identical twin instead. But when I thought some more about Araminta’s inexperience and personality, and where her state of mind was at that point in the gameplay, I realised just how anxious she would have been when she realised her error. 

And while Leo is very clearly “if it’s not right for both of us, then it’s not right for either of us” when it comes to sex, Araminta doesn’t yet know that. What she does know is that he flirted with her during her introduction, he accepted her offer, he has a reputation of being a Del Sol Valley villain that he seems to revel in, and that he is the director and creator of the show she is about to become a contestant in. 

While I try to keep real world prejudices and issues away from the Sims since the game doesn’t have those features itself (apart from classism and rich versus poor), as we all know Hollywood and other such industries do have a history of powerful men abusing their influence, which tragically continues to this day. So given their relative positions and the imbalance of power, once I started writing the scene, that became part of the undertone too. 

(For the record, Araminta never thought that the very bad thing would happen - and I didn’t want to touch that. At all. Rather she was convinced that he would develop a grudge against her and spoil her time on the show. And since part of the reason she applied was that her trainer suggested it might boost her profile and help her land sponsorships as a rising star on the professional equestrian scene, she was worried about that too.)

So when she finally enters Leo’s hotel room, I figured that it may take him a while to deduce exactly why she’s being so quiet and nervous, given that he is a five star celebrity and in his mind, perhaps she became a little starstruck once she was in the same room with him. He therefore tries to put her at ease, humanising himself by reminding her that he’s a regular person too (if - in his mind - a completely amazing and perfect one), joking about the chardonnay and encouraging a feeling of intimacy by treating her as a confidant with his Thorne Bailey gossip. Had he actually been ‘just some guy,’ he likely would have realised what was wrong far, far sooner.

Crucially during this, he doesn’t touch her nor otherwise tries to physically initiate things.

However, once he realises that she doesn’t want to have sex with him at all (or as he understands it at the time, has changed her mind), he takes the initiative and attempts to make things easier for her by asking her straight out if that’s the case. She’s still too nervous to speak, so he takes the lack of an absolute ‘yes’ when it comes to sex (in his words, shoving him onto the bed) as a ‘no.’ He then comes up with an excuse to leave the room, which does several things. It physically distances Leo from Araminta, thus hopefully easing her worries and assuring her that nothing is going to happen unless she wants it to. It also - as he suggests - gives her a moment to gather herself and regroup.

And at this along with the “if I end up having the entire bottle to myself, then that’s okay” comment, he’s actually putting in her head that it’s fine to entirely leave the hotel room and go back to her lodgings, if that’s what she wants to do.

After this, Araminta then is in a good enough place where she is able to join Leo in the other room and explain what had happened. Of course, he’s a mean traited Sim and incredibly vain, so there are some snarky comments, but none of them are about her not wanting to have sex with him. And if you look at the content of his messages rather than the wording and jokes, he reinforces his support of her wishes - along with a general pro consent statement - and reassures her that it won’t impact how she’s treated on the show. He also reminds her to breathe (which being a performer, he’d likely know that focusing on that is a good way to limit any pre-gig panic) and suggests she do something relaxing, like getting a massage, after she leaves.

Also with his final comment about how he’s always happy to ‘mentor’ a promising up-and-comer, while I don’t think he’d say ‘no’ if she did ask to sleep with him in the future, I think it’s more an attempt at levity and playing up to his bad boy reputation rather than a genuine offer. He probably really does not want her telling people that he was nice to her, but his threat of how he’d ruin her reputation if she did is clearly a silly one and he's again reassuring her that she has nothing to fear from him, especially since it's delivered with a hug.

Finally I ended with the closing shots of Araminta walking away looking relieved and happy, and Leo perhaps ruminating on just how shitty the world of dating can be if you’re a straight femme type. For all his faults, Ana’s Leo does sincerely love his family and is devoted to them, so perhaps along with the wine, he experienced some rather sobering thoughts of how he’s going to prepare his daughters for all this nonsense to come.

(Sorry Leo, but I’m fairly sure they don’t all turn out to be lesbians.)

So hopefully while I did try to keep things relatively light, I was able to convey all this throughout the scene and not trivialise the issue. If I didn’t succeed, then while I doubt that I will be dealing with consent themes again anytime soon (if at all) in the future, I am sorry and I will do better.

[blue-rose-soul]

Ooo love the devil’s bastard au

In one of your precious posts you mentioned Charlie and Nicaise meeting in heaven and getting to bond. How do you think a meeting like that would go?

They wouldn't know who the other was at first. It's an act of fate (me) that brings them together. I've seen a few different people say that the winners in Heaven don't remember their lives on Earth, but I haven't heard this until recently, and even if Vivienne did say it, I'm hesitant to take Word of God as the absolute truth until it's actually shown in the show proper. Things change in the writing process, you know?

That said, I like the idea so I'm going with it.

As a winner, Nicaise also has some deer-like traits. Her heavenly outfit is all creams and golds, she's got soft doe ears and white speckles across her cheeks, shoulders and arms, as well as a pair of cream-colored wings. Even with the deer traits though, Charlie doesn't make the immediate connection. She's a dark-skinned Creole woman who speaks with a distinct accent from Alastor's, so there's a bit of a disconnect in Charlie's mind.

They probably run into one another while Emily is showing Charlie around, perhaps at the zoo. The winners haven't been informed that they're hosting a guest from Hell because the heavenborn angels don't want to cause a panic or anything, but it becomes clear within a few minutes of conversation that Charlie's different from everyone else in Heaven. How amazed she is by the simplest things. Her sheer awe at the koala. The smell of brimstone that clings to her.

Now, Nicaise knows there's something... off about Heaven. She's known it since she first arrived and she felt like something important had been stolen from her. She just can't put together what that something was. Over the decades, the heavenborn angels have tried to placate her, reassuring that there is nothing missing from her life and that Heaven has everything she'll ever want or need. She calls bullshit. But, realizing she's not going to get anywhere butting heads, she opts to go the more subtle route, seeking out like minded winners and bringing them together. Together, she and her allies have been trying to figure out what the heavenborn are keeping from them, what they lost, but they've hit a lot of walls. Sera is too difficult to approach, and not easy to trick, Emily is just as in the dark as they are, and Adam... Well, Nicaise knows how to deal with repulsive men. But Sera realized pretty quickly what Nicaise was doing and forbid Adam from speaking to her or her cohorts, so that line of investigation was cut short.

Needless to say, Nicaise is thrilled to meet people from outside of Heaven.

She probes Charlie for information and Charlie is plenty happy to talk to someone from Heaven who doesn't seem politely disgusted by her lineage. (Something about Charlie's description of her father strikes a chord in Nicaise. She can't quite solidify the thought.) Emily is surprisingly open to the topic of conversation as well; Sera's never told her any of these things!

Nicaise knows that she must have had a life and a family back on Earth, but it's not until Charlie starts talking about souls passing to Heaven or Hell that she really understands what this means. For just a moment, the veil lifts from her memories. And then they're gone again, like a dream. Charlie, on the other hand, is more than a little peeved that Heaven is actually preventing winners from remembering their own lives. Yes, some of the memories may be painful, but these are their lives! The souls have a right to them, regardless of how painful they were! It's her first hint that Heaven might not be as idyllic as it seems.

Unfortunately, Charlie's meeting with Heaven's higher ups means they don't have as much time together as they would like, nor will they have any way to contact one another once Charlie returns to Hell. But she's left a lasting impact on Nicaise and has an ally in her and Emily both. Emily tells Nicaise everything that happened in the meeting, including the revelation of the exterminations. Nicaise passes this on to her group, who pass it on to more people who pass it on to even more people.

Soon winners all over Heaven are questioning and Sera is panicking. Things get worse for her when Sir Pentious shows up in her office. If she's going to maintain order over Heaven, she needs to find the people responsible for spreading disorder, and get rid of them. Fast.

[blacklegsanjiii]

hello!! I have a small request if you don't mind!

I've come up with a rareship, which is now all I think about: Sanji x Penguin. The ship was created thanks to a video from a cosplayer and a few conversations with a friend, and ever since then they're all I've been thinking about. I would love for you to write a small drabble about them, if you have the time!! I love your fics, and that would absolutely make my day!

Thank you sm!! Keep up the good work<3

Thank you sm,

I do mind because my immediate thought was 'oh this would be good for Trafalgar!Sanji.' because Law is looking at one of his closest friends and seeing how he acts with his little brother when they meet again as adults and uhhhhhhhhh.... I love pissing Law off? Also here's the first Trafalgar!Sanji I made for more context if needed! Also, don't ask me for drabbles, I can't do those. This is long. (I'm so fucking sorry to everyone I am trying)

Like on Zou before Sanji gets taken in that small moment of reprieve they have they meet with the heart pirates and the way Shachi, Bepo, Penguin, and some other Heart Pirates are combing over the boy. They're all excited because they haven't really talked to him since before he set off from Baratie and they didn't get to talk on Sabaody. Nami is asking what's going on and Shachi slings an arm around Sanji's shoulders and Penguin around his waist and he blue screens as Shachi explains Sanji is Law's little brother and was on their crew first before they lost their first ship.

Ikkaku is asking Penguin if he's okay and Penguin can't help himself when he grabs the cook's waist and asks him how the fuck is waist is like that. Sanji is flustered and trying to get Penguin to let go when Shachi also grabs his waist. Bepo grabs Sanji and lifts him from them and Brook is yohohoing specifically at Penguin and says that is a very similar reaction most people have to their dear cook. All eyes are suddenly on Penguin who bolts and Sanji is confused.

Then Sanji leaves for WCI and Chopper is running to let them know. They're running to look and possibly help but Sanji is gone and it feels like when the storm hit again. The Heart Pirates upon reunitng with their captain let him know what's going on, and then Shachi and Ikkaku absolutely tell Law right in front of Penguin that Penguin is crushing on Sanji so hard. Law is looking at Penguin who is covering his face with his hat and grumbling about hurting them later and then he's explaining that Sanji has been taken and they went to help but it was too late. According to the deer Sanji is headed to a wedding for the Vinsmokes, like from Germa, and Big Mom. Law sighs and asks what the fuck could he have to do with them and Penguin argues back he has beef with Doflamingo because of his youth, maybe Sanji knew them somehow. Law growls but relents. Sanji kept everything from before Law tight lipped.

When they all depart Luffy is promises to Sanji back and the Tang is fuller than it's ever been and Penguin is looking through old recipes, things he wrote down over the years from their phone calls. Law and Zoro are there with him and Law asks him what he's doing and Penguin says Sanji's crew is used to his level of service so he might as well try. Law then presses that this has nothing to do with the crush he has on his little brother, just caring for the crew right? Penguin is looking at his captain with utter betrayal as Zoro starts asking questions, because what the fuck does Law mean the cook is his brother? Law and Penguin immediately focus on that because did he not listen to his crew? Zoro admits he zoned out for a bit because he wasn't worried about the cook, he disappears all the time and might come back a little scraped up but he always comes back. Law stiffens but doesn't disagree, he does however say that they've already lost Sanji twice so to forgive them if they are weary about his reassurances but they'll explain more to everyone over dinner and then Law wishes Penguin luck in feeding everyone and dips. The look of betrayal deepens as Penguin forces himself to not pay attention to the swordsman sitting at the table. Nope, he'll deal with that shovel talk later.

Over dinner, which is later than normal because of all the new mouths to feed, the Heart Pirates-or some of them at least- are asking questions about Sanji to Law and the Strawhats because of how recently they saw him. The Strawhats and Law answer what they can, Law tells his crew about Sanji fighting Doflamingo and Vergo, mentions Sanji's cooking has greatly improved in the years he's been away. The Heart Pirates go silent as they all stare at their captain and the visiting crew watch Law shambles himself out of the room as his some of his crew follow with shouts of capturing the man. Ikkaku, Penguin, and Jean stay in the cafeteria, the woman has a soft smile and the giant is confused, having been on the crew only for a couple of years, and Penguin is rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms so hard he feels like he could squish them.

"You know he was trying to rile up everyone." Ikkaku laughs at him.

"Yeah, I know. It's just with everything that's happened it kind of sucks we haven't gotten to really see him for more than a few hours in the last tennish years." Penguin says.

"Yet one hand on his waist and you were completely smitten." Jean smirks at him as Ikkaku laughs a little louder.

"Oh, sure, I get a crush on Sanji and I'm going to get the worst of the worst shovel talks from the world. You heard the skeleton, he said a lot of people react like that to Sanji!" Penguin defends himself.

"Mm, but you're on his brother's crew, not to mention our guests." Ikkaku smriks at him. "Alas, he's not eleven anymore, he did get hot. You think Captain is still going to bend to his every whim still?"

"If only because this would be the third time he didn't die." Penguin frowns.

"I'm sorry, third? Third time Sanji didn't die?" Usopp asks with worry and Jean doesn't look worried but curious as Robin and Zoro's eyes look at them sharply.

"The first would have been the storm that took him to the East Blue, he got washed away and Bepo was focused on saving Captain and the rest of us weren't strong enough to get him. The second would be Sabaody." Ikkaku said with a shrug making everyone go quiet.

"Wow, that sounds super rough." Franky said after a few moments.

"You said you've all only seen Sanji for a few hours over the last years, is it because you only found out he was alive from his bounty?" Robin asked.

"Nah, we got a call a few years after the wreck, we're still not entirely sure who got the number for our denden or what strings were pulled for Zeff to get it, but everyone who knew Sanji at that point had basically came running when we heard Law yell at the poor snail. As for Sabaody we just found out when he got to Zou." Ikkaku answered.

"I've only ever heard about him in passing, I never imagined Captain's Sanji to be Black Leg." Jean said as Law shambled in halfway through the giant's thought.

"'Course, he is, I found him." Law smirked at them. Robin simply smiled at the captain as Usopp and Franky started saying he couldn't take Sanji back. Law says they shouldn't worry about him as he flicks his eyes to Penguin and Ikkaku fully loses it fully as Robin turns to Penguin with a slightly sadistic smile of her own.

They make their way to Wano with strict orders to lay low and gather information until they're ready to start their attack. Penguin is relentlessly teased the entire time and Law is sending him endless pointed looks that could be threats or pained reminiscing slightly. The crew and Sanji had never met Cora or Lami but to Law his little brother was the worst(best) of them both and made him deal with his past apparently by the fact Law would smoke a cigarette every so often now, Penguin joining in once in a while. They make landfall and set their parameters and their plan in place and wait for the rest of the Strawhats to arrive and ruin everything. Law has given up planning beyond that really which makes his crew laugh at him but he only retaliates to Penguin for crushing on his little brother which makes the crew turn on him.

Sadistic fuck.

When the rest do arrive and the crews begin to hang out again, Penguin and Sanji are definitely spending more time together and Law keeps a very close eye on them, as does Robin and Zoro for other reasons seeing as they just got their cook back to the crew. Penguin definitely keeps a hand on Sanji's waist when they're together and Brook's soft 'yohoho~'s make Sanji roll his eyes. Luffy still rubber bands to him and asks for food which Sanji obliges and feeds everyone. Before the raid Penguin has a nosebleed looking at Sanji in his suit and Usopp and Franky absolutely lose it, because yeah. It's usually not as visceral but people do like the look of the cook, Luffy lets out his frantic giggles as he wraps his hands on Sanji's waist and makes him promise to cook the biggest feast ever when the raid is done and he agrees easily, but Luffy is giggling something menacing and looking at Penguin before he lets go and runs off.

After the raid, after Law is done holding his baby brother and only overhearing a few words between them Penguin gets his chance to curl up with Sanji and run his hands over the too many bandages on the blond boy's body, they're exhausted and Penguin won't let him up to cook because Luffy's not awake but Law is so he doesn't need to cook, he needs to rest. Penguin just holds him and won't let him get up. Then after Luffy wakes up he follows the cook around to make sure he's not overdoing it and everything. Luffy keeps giggling and Law rolls his eyes until Robin mentions the G5 marines on Punk Hazard and how much they adored the cook making them both look at each other and then at Sanji and Penguin and both realizing this means their alliance hasn't ended but changed drastically. Because now everyone knows Sanji is Law's little brother and is dating Penguin and Luffy is laughing saying they get to see each other more often now! Look Traffy, thanks to Sanji and Penguin they can hang out all the time now!

Law groans as Penguin and Sanji sneak off from the party to be alone.

They deserve it.