#maybe just anything he finds for restoration in his free time

[babayagaiscomingforya]

For some reason, I imagine going to the Bowery King and asking these questions like "Sir I NEED to know! It's for business!"

Small domestic things i wanna know about John wick:

How does he like his coffee in the morning?

On which side does he sleep?

What kind of books does he like ?

What is his favorite casual outfit ?

What art/architecture style is is favorite

What kind of music does he like ? (I bet Jazz)

What are his love languages?

Basically i need a dating profile of him

[monstersflashlight]

Hi me again here |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Loved your little piece about the forest entity, so you'd make me very happy with a second part :)

Tentacles and forest monsters are just soo good <3

So yeah, I'll keep looking and loving your writing, thanks for all your amazing work ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Hi! Thank you so much for your compliments, that’s so sweet! Here you have it a little bit of filth <3 Part 1 is here, if someone needs a refresher.

Plant toy

Forest entity x fem!human || tentacles (vines), bondage, edging, oral sex, double penetration, gagging, nipple clamps

You had no idea what compelled you into going back to the forest, but there you were, wearing a skimpy outfit and walking around without any reason. You felt stupid, but also a bit excited. A bit turned on. The opportunity of finding the forest entity that fucked you too good to pass. You wanted a repeat… Well, more like you needed a repeat.

In the past couple weeks since it happened, you couldn’t think of anything else, your brain was completely stuck on him. (You didn’t miss the joke about being stuck on a tree-hole just to end up being stuck on a forest entity). Every second of every day you wanted to feel him again, to feel those vines and roots against your body, constricting your movements and leaving you at his mercy.

It was exhilarating, but the memory was not enough anymore. You burned down the batteries on two of your sex toys and had not enough energy to keep looking for more fun ways to get yourself off. Nothing was as good as the vines, nothing was as good as him.

So there you were, getting lost in the forest. On purpose this time.

You wandered for what felt like hours, until your body was tired and your anticipation dissipated into a more real sense of fear. You didn’t know where you were, if he didn’t show up at some point you’d be lost in the forest without a way to find your way back. You felt like you were walking in circles, unable to see anything as the sun started to set. Real panic started to fill your insides.

“You are lost and scared once again, but this time you have done this to yourself… Why?��� His voice startled you, and you screamed. As you turned around, the vision of his strange face calmed you completely. He was there. He came for you.

A rush of adrenaline filled your body and your panties got wet. Fuck, that ethereal voice was messing with your libido big time. “I- I was looking for you.” You told him, voice caught in your throat as some vines and roots bloomed from the ground beneath your feet and lifted your body, undressing you in the process.

“For me? Why?” His utter confusion would have been cute if you weren’t suspended in the air with wines holding your arms and legs apart.

“I don’t know.” That was a weak ass response and you knew it. He tilted his head to the side like he was trying to decipher your whole soul with a look. Maybe he was doing exactly that, how would you know. “Okay, okay… I- I wanted a repeat,” you confessed in a murmur.

“Of what, human?” His uncanny features made your insides twist and turn, but also made you even more curious to know more about him. “There’s no balance to be restored now. Are you making a free offer to the forest?” He added. You didn’t think of that. You didn’t think of anything apart from getting fucked again. You were so dumb. Your face flushed at the acknowledgment that you got lost on purpose just to get fucked by vines. How freaky was that?

“I- Yes! Yes. That’s it,” you agreed, without really knowing what that would entitle. “I want… I want you to do that again… with the vines.” Your face burned as you said it.

Said vines took on their own and started caressing your body, like he wasn’t controlling them, as if they were a living organism on their own. That filled you with an unsettled feeling, but part of you liked that thought. Part of you wanted to be at the mercy of some mindless plant organism.

He turned around, not looking at you. Disappointed had a sour taste against your mouth. “I see…” He was leaving. He was leaving you there without even looking twice at you. Without an explanation.

“Wait! Are you going to leave me here?” You asked, panicked. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. The spike of fear mixed with anticipation and arousal, leaving you breathless.

“I need to retrieve something, I’ll be back.” Just as he was saying that, some more vines appeared in front of you and stuff your mouth until you couldn’t answer back, like a plant gag.

He left you there, mouth stuffed with vines and your body suspended in the air by plant-acles (plant tentacles?). As soon as he disappeared, the vines took a turn. More vines and roots appeared around you, touching you. Caressing every inch of your body. The ones in your mouth started thrusting into your throat until you were gagging and salivating around them. It felt like the messiest blowjob of your life as some more vines and roots caressed your nipples and clit. It was exhilarating.

But they wouldn’t finish you. The tentacles around you played with your sensitive areas, pinching, caressing, sucking… You were thrown against the edge a thousand times, but they never let you cross it. The vines moved and caressed around you, tightening and releasing parts of your body. It was maddening, the unfulfilled pleasure was driving you completely insane. Over and over for what felt like hours but was probably less than twenty minutes, the vines edged you until every caress felt like it was going to make you explode. But it didn’t. They didn’t let you.

When he reappeared in front of you, you could have sobbed. If you weren’t already crying because of the overstimulation and the edging. Tears ran freely down your face, mixing with the drool around the plant-gag fucking your throat. You felt used. And you enjoyed it, like the little pervert you were.

He looked at you for a few seconds, “I shouldn’t have left them unsupervised. My apologies, human.” His apology sounded a lot like a non-apology. He wasn’t sorry at all, he consciously left you there with wild vines edging you, the little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth was answer enough. “I found the compass.” You didn’t know what he was talking about, but the vines wouldn’t stop moving and you felt ready to explode. You wanted to scream at him, to beg him to end the torture to your senses and let you come. But he kept talking. “Now you would be able to find me,” he explained. He looked at you expecting an answer you were unable to provide. “Oh, the vines…” He moved his hand and the vines fucking your throat retracted.

You breathed deep before chanting: “Please, please, please…” You were unable to form any more words as you screamed and begged for release. “Please let me come. Pleaseeeee!”

“It’s okay, human. I’m here,” he told you softly.

His words sounded ominous, and maybe you should have trusted your instincts because before you realized, the vines around you were morphing and moving. Some of them constricted around your nipples, acting as improvised nipple clamps as he approached step by step to your naked and restricted body. He stood there for a few seconds, admiring his vine work.

And then, he raised his hand and you cried out. For the first time ever, he touched you. His fingers caressed the skin of your abdomen and made a trail lower and lower… When his finger touched your clit, you screamed at the top of your lungs. “None of that, you don’t want to bother the little animals, do you?” He didn’t give you time to react, he conjured a new vine around your head and gagged you.

That wasn’t the only new vine, soon enough there was one curling around your leg, approaching your center. He cooed at you when you whimpered, shushing you as he caressed your hair softly, his other hand still circling your clit.

The tender gesture was such a contrast with the sexual torture he was inflicting on your poor human body. You were dizzy by it. It was maddening. And when the vine pushed into your hungry cunt, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You groaned and moaned as he kept fucking you restlessly.

You were lost in the pleasure he was giving you. So lost that the first touch of a vine against your asshole caught you off guard. You tried to scream, but he wasn’t having any of that. The gag around your mouth pressed harder as you whimpered around it. You were breathing so hard you feared hyperventilation, but his soft touches to your side kept you focused. Bit by bit, the vine pushed inside your asshole until it was fully seated.

And just like that, it began. In perfect sync, the vines inside your pussy and ass started fucking you. It was better than anything you’d ever felt. It was so much more than you thought you could take. But he didn’t ask, he gave and you took.

He was looking at you with such intensity you felt hyperaware of every twitch, every groan and every bit of saliva you let out around the gag. But he still didn’t let you come.

“Just a bit more, human, you are doing great,” his voice was soft as he moved his hands to direct the vines around your body. In and out. In and out. They fucked you in tandem as he looked at you like you were his prize.

His encouragements were making you see stars and a thousand different lights behind your eyes. The assault to your senses so deep and profound you didn’t know how to feel anymore. You didn’t know if it was too much, if it was too little. You could only feel the vines moving in and out of your holes, the stretch and pressure of it against all your sensitive spots.

“Come for me human, give me your offering.” Like a magic word, you exploded on a thousand pieces as your body melted against the vines, a splash of your juices showering everything around you. “That’s, such a good human for me.” That was the last thing you heard before you blacked out.

You woke up next to your car, re-dressed and with a shiny compass next to you.

[pearlywritings]

The trace of you

synopsis: the marks you leave on your lover during your intimate moments

pairing: Ayato, Blade, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Kaveh, Neuvillette, Sampo, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)

tw: smutty, established relationship, marks, shibari, biting, implied sex, implied oral (both m! and f! receiving), collar, ABO elements, two dicks, handcuffs, scratching

word count: 5.6k+ words in total

Ayato

The head of the Kamisato clan lets his heavy lids slide closed while you are carefully untying the knots and unwrapping the ropes, abandoning the pieces of red braided strings at the foot of the bed. His limbs are pleasantly tingling and he does release a relieved sigh when he can finally stretch his legs to the curling of his toes. Cherry-like lips tug in a smile and thick lashes tremble when your palms cup his cheeks and you kiss each of his eyelids, murmuring a quiet apology for taking so long and promises of getting to rest soon. He murmurs something along the lines of everything being alright, that he doesn’t mind the hurry.

Yet when you kneel between his thighs to tend to the front of his torso, the man shakes his head and drops his forehead onto your shoulder, rolling his blades, hinting to his arms, still tied behind his back. You immediately usher him into your embrace, cheek pressed to his messy baby blue locks, fingers working on setting him free. Ayato inhales your scent, keening on the warmth and softness of your body, pressing light kisses to what skin he can reach in his hazy state. Despite being at someone else’s mercy, restricted, vulnerable - with you he feels safe.

As soon as all the ropes are undone and thrown away, you ease him onto his back, carefully moving his arms and legs to make him comfortable, to help him restore blood circulation. Somewhere in the process he must’ve fallen into slumber, because the next time he slowly blinks his eyes open, you are sitting by his side, dressed in nothing but a thin bathrobe, loosely tied and not properly held together, exposing your collarbones and some of your breasts.

“Husband,” it sounds a little old-fashioned, but Ayato loves when the term leaves your lips and is directed to him. “The bath is almost ready. Do you need another minute?”

Humming, he makes some attempts to move. He fists his hands, flexes his arms a little, tries to bend his legs in knees and lift his upper body to sit. Some are more successful than the others, but generally he’s established control over his own body again.

“Maybe just a couple more,” he sighs and lies onto his back again. Before he can say anything else, you are already crawling onto the bed to settle near him in order to rub and massage the parts of his body that were immobilized for quite some time. Your husband doesn’t stop you, only letting out groans and little moans when you apply pressure just right.

However soon your lack of any noises captures his attention and he finds your eyes trailing up and down his body, the tips of the fingers sometimes tracing the patterns on his skin. He quickly realizes why - the braided texture of the ropes imprinted their shape into his flesh. It doesn’t hurt, and it also didn’t, and thank Archons you do not look concerned. More like astonished.

“Something on your mind, wife?” The eyes he loves so much immediately dart to his face, blinking once and then crinkling a little in the corners from your soft smile.

“Nothing in particular. Just that the shibari aesthetic looks good on you even when the bondage is no longer here. Also, I am thankful for the opportunity to see you on the receiving end. I enjoyed that. Did you?”

“Mhm,” he mirrors your smile, “I did. Thank you.”

He pushes himself to sit up, reaching his hand to yours, locking fingers and then leaning forward to steal a sweet kiss from your lips. The more your lips meet, the clearer his head becomes, and by the tenth (maybe) kiss you shared he feels a surge of strength - just enough to get to the bathroom, where you two can thoroughly soak.

“I admit,” you begin, getting off the bed and offering him a hand for support, which he takes without hesitation, straightening in his full naked glory, giving you another opportunity to admire the patterns edged into his skin, “I didn’t understand before, why you loved it so much to watch me right after the ropes were gone from my body. Now I think I do. The marks they leave are truly marvelous.”

“Oh?” A teasing edge delves into his tone. “Do you imply we should practice it more often, my lovely wife?”

You chuckle, tugging on his wrist and leading him to the bathroom.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt, my dear husband.”

Blade

“Whatever you are doing - stop it,” he doesn’t want to open his eyes, the darkness behind his eyelids is soothing. He wants to rest, and the comforting weight of your body on top of his is welcomed (though he doesn’t admit it outloud), however your fingers, skimming over the expanse of his shoulders and the length of his neck disturb him.

“It isn’t fair,” in your voice he guesses displeasure. He feels you lightly dig your nails into the skin and scratch, as if this action will help you find something you’ve been looking for for a couple of minutes already. “It’s been only half an hour and they are gone already. And I tried extra hard today while biting you.”

Ah, that’s what it is all about. Fucking with Blade is…an experience. A rough, teeth-baring, primal, desperate experience. The one that always ends with breath stolen, legs shaking and many marks left. Only difference is that yours bloom for weeks while his heal in less than an hour.

“You looked very beautiful with my teeth imprinted into your skin,” you sigh, thumb running over his jaw. “Now they are all gone. That’s not fair, Blade.”

Possessing that self-healing ability isn’t fair, yet here is, breathing, living, even being involved with a woman… A very stubborn woman, he must say.

He curses when your teeth sink into the side of his neck, clamping down quite hard, jaws flexing for good measure to make the mark stay. His hand slides from the small of your back to your behind, squeezing a buttock in a silent warning. That’s enough for you to whine - flesh is still tender from the time he took you from behind, spanking your poor ass.

“I know, I know… What’s the point if this one won’t last too…” you sigh, looking at it to at least remember that you did put claim on him, even if only for a matter of minutes. Blade is silent, but his fingers relax.

Is he growing soft? Is it even possible? Or is it the fact that he’s just gotten comfortable with you enough to let many things you do slide? You do make it feel like an almost normal life. Which, given he cannot yet be put 9 feet underground, makes the existence more bearable. Even Kafka commented on it on multiple occasions and Silver Wolf rolled her eyes and huffed “stupid lovebirds” when you two simply walked into the room together…

And if you have a ‘lover’ you are supposed to heed their needs and desires, right?

Or why the hell is he doing this?

“...I think I have a solution for you,” you are startled when he finally speaks, staring at his face. He still has his eyes closed, but the hand returns to the small of your back, resting there.

“A solution? What solution?”

“Silver Wolf showed me that…trend.”

“Oh?” With every word that leaves his pale lips your curiosity grows, along with a tiny bit of disbelief at what your fellow Stellaron hunter is doing.

“Basically you bite a place on another person’s skin and the master is turning the indentation into a tattoo.”

“Blade…” you don’t recognize your own voice, so shocked you are right now. “Are you saying you’ll get a tattoo of my teeth mark on your skin?”

“...yes.”

“Anywhere? Even on your neck?”

“...” He doesn’t reply, but after a few seconds he nods. Positive.

“I… I…” you don’t know what to say. Instead you bury your face into his neck, shakily exhaling, still processing his offer. You don’t complain when he rolls you two onto your sides, putting one hand under his head and draping the other over your waist, spooning you.

“Sleep,” is all he says, putting his chin on top of your head.

We’ll talk about it tomorrow.

Diluc

“Good morning, handsome,” Diluc slightly shudders when your arms wrap around his bare waist and you push your cheek against his shoulder blade. You’ve just woken up and could not possibly resist the sight through the open bathroom door - your husband standing in front of the mirror, clad only in his black pants, with fluffy hair cascading down his back and him, clearly inspecting something in his reflection. 

“Good morning to you too, my flame,” his big hand easily envelopes the lock of yours and gives it a soft squeeze. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. You really loved that stress out of my system tonight,” you giggle, rubbing your nose against his skin, recalling the events from less than 7 hours ago. Of his big, strong body slamming yours into the bed after you teased him by simply kissing, licking and sucking all over his body for way too long. Anyone would’ve slept like a log after such an activity.

“I see,” there is an undertone in his voice that you easily recognize as a little pinch of pride for the good job he did, and you reach up to kiss the side of his jaw in appreciation. “Speaking of tonight, it seems you, my dear, were exceptionally passionate.”

“Whatever do you mean?” He slightly turns his head and behind the heavy crimson bangs you spot mischief in his flaming eyes. “‘Luc, what’s going on?”

“Look in the mirror and find out.”

Still clueless you follow his advice, redirecting your gaze… only to yelp when you see it.

“Oh my Archon! Diluc, does it hurt??” You release him from your hold and step around to make sure that the light or something didn’t trick you and you saw exactly what you saw. And you see exactly what you saw - an angry-looking trace of teeth, your teeth, circling around the man’s left nipple.

“Not really, but it is quite sensitive,” your husband admits as you are staring at the ‘damage’ you caused his poor chest during the foreplay. You really thought the bite wasn’t that hard! “Don’t worry too much, my flame. It’ll heal eventually.”

“You sure there is nothing to worry about?” Your eyes, full of concern, play the most tender strings of his heart. At the same time Diluc can’t get why you are being so worked up over a love bite. Besides, Ragnvindr is a forward man - if he didn’t like it he would’ve voiced so, and you, having spent so much time with him, still tend to forget that sometimes.

“I am sure. It’s not that different from the marks I leave on you. And you don’t worry about them, right?”

You look at the bite again, acknowledging his words and realizing that if your initial reaction is thrown out of the window you quite admire how beautiful the red indentation contrasts against his pale skin.

“Right. You know, it actually looks very good.”

“It does. Because it’s yours,” your face heats at such lewdly blatant truth, to which the redhead simply smiles, grabbing your chin between his fingers and drawing you closer for a kiss. Your palms slide up his shoulders and around his neck, while his unoccupied one grips your waist, pushing your body flash to his. Unexpectedly you jump, but he readily brings both hands under your butt to help you settle onto his hips. With a slither of relief you note that Diluc doesn’t wince, doesn’t even crease his eyebrows when your chests collide, but the thought is quickly forgotten as he kisses you even deeper.

He breaks away only when he is sitting on the edge of the bed with you on his lap. The man loves the blissful expression on your face, the sight of your night clothes sliding down one of the shoulders, baring his own marks (not as teethy as yours, but still quite prominent and pretty). You are the image of serenity, and he is glad he succeeded in giving you a peace of mind.

“I want to be the one to put a shirt on you today,” you suddenly say, palms softly smoothing over the wideness of his pectorals, mindful of the area around his left nipple. “You tend to be rough with your movements. I can do it more gently.”

Yeah, sure, or more like gawk at the bite while busy with buttons, now that concern is out of the picture. But Diluc doesn’t let you know he is aware of your intention - as he said, it is yours, thus you have full right to do so.

Jing Yuan

Most times your husband reminds you of his very pet. Big, imposing, with thick mane of hair and a pleased cat-like smile. Especially in the moments of rest, when he practically turns into a lion himself, grayish locks all let down and cascading down his back, eyes lazily closed and a serene expression overtaking his face as your fingers gently touch him, eliciting pleasurable groans and sighs out of him.

“Glad you are not mad at me,” he perks at your words, opening just one eye, and regarding you - sitting on his thighs, with hot water reaching up to your waist and hands carefully rubbing something into his neck. You look positively glowing, with hickies blooming on your chest and shoulders and that concentrated look in your pretty eyes.

“Why would I be mad at you, beloved?” Big hand that rests on your hip gives it a small squeeze and the other one comes to support his cheek as he closes his eyes again. “Don’t you think everything is perfect? We made love, got to relieve some stress in the process and now we are relaxing in a bath. Don’t know about you, but I enjoyed every second of it, and having your body on top of me right now is all that I need.”

“Of course, I enjoyed every second of it,” humming, you lean down to press small kisses to his eyelids and the general’s smile gets wider. “And I am thankful that you entertained my desire to try something new. I just wish my actions didn’t leave such marks on your neck.”

“They are subtle, no? And it doesn’t hurt, I promise. Though I am not going to lie, I like the feeling of your hands treating it.”

You huff a chuckle, scooping a new portion of ointment to gently apply on reddish lines on his skin - the places where the collar’s edges dug a little too harshly into his neck. Tonight it’s been especially steamy - your husband delegated you the control in bed through agreeing to be put on a leash and perform any of your commands by a tug of it. And Aeons, was he great at that - burying his face into your pussy until he barely could take a breather, arching his back as you pulled on the leash while your mouth was decorating his chest with hickies, but also going absolutely feral as you drew him closer as he was pounding into you from behind, growling and moaning your name, practically crushing you with his weight, but he knew you liked it.

“Yuan,” he hums, not opening his eyes, but turning his ear to you, “you’ve done such a marvelous job for me. Do you want any special treatment in return?”

“Oh?” To that he is intrigued, finally showing you both of his golden orbs, lifting his head and putting his second palm on your other hip. “I’m honored, but you are my wife. If I wasn’t doing a marvelous job for you every day I would be undeserving of calling myself your husband.”

“And yet I want to give you extra treatment,” satisfied with the look of his neck, reddish lines slowly paling, you lower your hands to clean them, giving the man an opportunity to get closer and bury his face into your chest, happily rubbing his cheek against your breast, arms now loosely wrapped around your waist.

“Then I want you to cockwarm me while we sleep.”

“But we do that almost every night, silly,” your fingers run through his wet hair, twitching as his hips rock into yours and water splashes a little. “It’s no special treatment.”

“Hmm… If that’s the case, then I’d love to - only if you are okay with that - if we get you a matching collar. I am simply curious how you’d look wearing it,” he looks up at you, chin resting between your breasts and eyes bearing a question in them. “Would it be alright?”

“It would,” you duck your head down and peck his forehead, earning yourself a deep purr. Oh how surprised he is going to be when you tell him that his collar and leash came in a set of two, specifically for couples…

You can’t wait to match marks with your husband.

Kaveh

The blond architect has long since learned of your lack of shame. To a man who has a hard time saying ‘no’ this trait is admirable and quite helpful when you are not afraid to put exceptionally fastidious clients of his in their place with a sharp tongue of yours. To a man who enjoys a good laugh and seeing any emotion on Alhaitham’s face rather than smugness he loves your impudence and shooting the scholar down with highly inappropriate yet witty remarks. To a man who feels like he is falling apart it’s important that you take matters into your own hands to spoil him way more when necessary, extending this to the bedroom.

And that’s where your shameless nature get to him.

“Please tell me you are done staring,” Kaveh doesn’t know where to escape from your appreciative gaze. The position definitely doesn’t help - with you resting on your stomach with an elbow planted onto the mattress and a palm supporting your chin, while your other hand’s fingers dance across the expanse of his spread thighs. Thighs, that are naked like the rest of him. And you too.

“But songbird,” you smile, smoothing a thumb over one of the blooming hickies decorating his inner thighs, “you are very pretty like this. Makes me want to give you a blowjob.”

“Y/n..!” The man blushes profusely, pressing the back of his hand to his quivering lips. It doesn’t escape your attention, however, how his semi-hard cock twitches.

“You’ve worked so hard this past week - give yourself a day off, sweety. And I’ll get to keep you in bed, making you feel so good and satisfied…”

“B-but what if one of my clients asks for a meeting today-”

“Then they can go to the Abyss,” you huff, moving your face closer, placing a tender kiss to his knee, starting a slow travel to his thigh. “You are the architect in high demand… you have the right to handle your schedule however you see fit.”

“Mmm,” his head falls back and jaw goes slack in a breathy moan as your lips caress his marked skin. Once reaching the hip bone you plant a firmer kiss there and draw back a little, only to repeat the same path from his other knee.

“Come on, Kaveh. You and I know you are tired and deserve some rest. And pampering. Tonight was hardly enough to meet all your needs. Your body is still so tense. I want you to be as malleable as the clay you work so much with…”

Done with another trail of kisses, you lift your upper body, pulling yourself up, so your chest rests against his pelvis, making him take a sharp inhale through gritted teeth. If you continue with your leisurely teasing, he sure is to pop a boner. Right between your breasts.

“So?” You inquire, reaching a hand up, cupping his flushed cheek, making those eyes that remind you of mourning flower’s petals so much meet yours. “Are you staying home with me? Are you letting me take care of you, kiss your lips, make you moan, have your cock nestled between my walls? Pretty please?”

Your offer is hard to resist. You are hard to resist. Looking up at him from between his spread legs, all bare and gorgeous, with hair being a little mess and lips a bit swollen from the make out session you had upon waking up. With your palms so light and gentle, one holding his face and the other running up and down his side, thumb counting each rib. With your words - so loving, yet shameless, luring him into your embrace, into receiving everything you are eager to give him.

And he is eager too.

“Yes…” He breathes out, bringing his hand up, wrapping his artistic fingers around yours and turning his head to plant a kiss to your palm.

“Yes to everything?” You clarify, your other palm settling on his hip.

“Mhm… But can we shower and have breakfast first, please?”

“Everything for you, sunshine,” with a wide grin, quite proud of yourself for convincing him, you push your body up and get onto your knees. Kaveh exhales and releases your hand from his hold, sitting straighter to close his legs and throw them over the edge of the bed. Already with your back to him you suddenly hear a small whine of discomfort.

“Another thing, love,” the architect’s brows are pinched together when you glance at him from over your shoulder, “no more marks on my thighs. Please.”

Neuvillette

Content growling is resonating off the walls in the vast dark room. One soft and gratifying, the other deep and satisfied, they rumble in your and your lover’s throats, blending into a marvelous primal melody. Hands - big, clawed and covered in scales of royal blue cradle your face in a tender hold, lavender eyes, brimmed with adoration, look into yours and it feels like you are the only thing that exists in this world.

These moments of clarity are nice and warm, and serve as a reminder, that you are here not only to satisfy your bestial needs, but to be one as lovers, as mated for life. The male’s lengths twitch between your walls when your nose pushes into the freshly bitten mating mark on his neck, a similar one is on the side of yours. You claimed each other long ago, centuries have passed, but every time your heat or his rut begins, this euphoric feeling of having each other’s teeth clamping on that particular patch of skin is unmatched and reminds of the very first time.

Neuvillette shudders when your tongue laps on the bruised skin and closes his eyes, panting, burning under your mouth despite your cryo nature. You purr, reaching to glide your fingers over the length of his beautiful horns - the ones you tenderly kissed hours ago, to show your husband your appreciation of his dragon features, to lure him into your embrace, to beg him to satisfy the ache in your heart and between your legs, because your heat has started.

“You are gorgeous, my love,” you sigh against his neck, free hand roaming over his chest, feeling its firmness, caressing the scales. “I am so lucky to have such a caring and devoted mate.”

“I am the lucky one,” the man smiles - you know he does. And you know, that despite everything, he preens from your praise and compliments. “You are divine from head to toe and I forever shall treasure you.”

“And I forever shall treasure you.”

Exchanging sweet declarations of love, you cuddle some more, nuzzling your noses against each other, sharing deep and meaningful kisses, holding hands and wondering if you should take a proper break before the next set of rounds.

The Hydro dragon digs his claws into your hip when you draw away, his cocks slipping out of your pussy. He lets his eyes stray to the many marks he left on your neck, breasts, hips and even thighs, as you sit up and stretch. The arch of your back is mesmerizing and he is quickly reminded of the ways it can bend whenever he is thrusting into you. So tender and delicate, you writhe into his arms and then, when he least expects it…

You surge forward and bite onto his neck.

Neuvillette moans and that’s the prettiest sound to you. It makes you want to devour him whole, to kiss all over his body - over all the marks you’ve given him and the bare skin too, to bite and lick, as you make your way down his body, until one of his lengths rests heavy onto your tongue.

But by the looks of it, it seems that your lover has the opposite idea, since he’s already pouncing onto you, pinning you to the bottom of your nest and slotting himself between your legs.

“Will you claim me again, my love?” His eyes and horns are gleaming and you can’t take your eyes off of him, And as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, making the heads of his cocks slip between your folds, leaning his face into your neck as you bury yourself into his, there is only one answer.

“Oh, darling… Only if you claim me once again as well.”

Sampo

“I told you it was a bad idea,” the man gasps when you softly hit his head with the side of your palm. “When I said ‘Sampo, get us handcuffs to try something new in bed’ I meant the soft fluffy ones used specifically for sex, not the metal ones!”

“Sorry…” he whines, raising a hand to rub the top of his stupid head, but you quickly catch his fingers, bringing them back to your lap.

“Sampo, let me finish with your wrists first. Honestly… And you tugged so harshly on them, no wonder there are marks left. I hope they won’t bruise…”

“Aww, you worry about me,” your lover coos with the intention to tease you, but deep down he doesn’t deny that he is happy to hear that. You sigh, rubbing the ointment (you farsightedly got from Natasha) into his skin to soothe the pulsing aching from hours spent in the metal wraps.

“Yeah, yeah, I do. But I am too an idiot, should’ve at least thought of putting some fabric in-between.”

“Hey, you are not an idiot,” he resents, nudging your shoulder with his. “I know an idiot when I see one.”

“Looking into the mirror?”

“Hey!”

You chuckle softly. Sampo watches you with a surprisingly calm look on his face, pout quickly dissolving and lips drawing into a small smile. You were right on that one - it was very stupid of him. However, he was running late to your meeting with all the things that needed to be done in the Overworld, and he didn’t have time to get the goods, but at the same time he didn’t want to disappoint you with empty hands. He is glad that those were used on him and not you. Partly because he wouldn’t want your pretty wrist to hurt, partly because he thoroughly enjoyed his submission to you.

You can’t really blame him for tugging too much - how could he stay stiff when your walls clenched so deliciously as you rode him and your breasts were jiggling right before his face - he wanted to grab! Generally he can’t keep his hands away from you, and it goes beyond the things happening in the bedroom. It’s your own fault for being so alluring!

“Next time I’ll get you the ones you want. Sampo Koski’s word!”

You tear your gaze from inspecting the work you’ve done and look at him. When it came to you, there was no doubt the indigo-haired male fulfilled his promises (not always accurately like this time, but he saw things through in the end). However there is another implication that occupies you…

“Oh? Does it mean you’d like to try that again?”

“Huh? Have you really not noticed how much I was enjoying all of this?” Sampo looks at you as if you grew a second head. Were you not watching him the whole time his dick was in your pussy!?

“No, no, I have! I was just unsure if you'd like to be cuffed again,” you hurry to reassure him, waving your hands in front of you. “You know, with Silvermane guards always chasing you and trying to capture you…”

“You are adorable,” he muses, freeing his hands from your careful grasp and grabbing your hips to drag you onto his lap, playing with the hem of your sleeping gown. “It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. After all, they’ll never catch me - this right is reserved only for you.”

“Wow, such a romantic guy,” his cheeks flare when you giggle - a sound too pure and heart-fluttering, and he lets you settle on top of him as he falls onto his back and reaches for the covers. That was surely a pleasurably draining night. You two should get some rest.

As he turns the nightstand lamp off and the room sinks into darkness, you get comfortable under the blanket, snuggling closer to a big warm body. Sampo is silly and an ass sometimes, but it’s hard to be mad at him for long, when he treats you to the things you want. Oh, that reminds you…

“By the way, where did you get those handcuffs?”

“...borrowed Gepard Landau’s personal pair?”

“...”

“...”

“SAMPO!”

Wriothesley

“For how long are you going to sulk and weep for my back? It’s not like I am dying,” Wriothesley turns his head to glance at you over his shoulder and sees what he’s expected to see - your knitted eyebrows, eyes practically screaming “oh no, I am the worst person in the world”, lips pressed into a tight line… That’s definitely not the look he wanted to see on his wife’s face after having sex with her.

“I am so sorry, Wrio…” you say for probably the tenth time, - he lost count in the very beginning, - your tone so miserable and quiet. “I didn’t think my nails were that long to scratch you to blood. And over your scars too…”

“I’ve already told you, I am not dyi- gh,” a hiss escapes him when a peroxide-soaked cotton ball touches a particularly sensitive place. He feels your hand flinch and he almost groans. You worry too much for him sometimes.

“I am fine. Besides, I think it’s actually pretty hot. Means I fucked you good enough for you to cling to me for dear life.”

“Wriothesley!” He lets out a throaty chuckle as you lightly hit his shoulder. “I am being serious right here! You know I don’t like when you end up hurt…” you huff, soaking a new ball to tend to another red line running down his wide back. “And this time I am the one who hurt you…”

“It felt good though, baby. I wouldn’t have even thought much of it, if you hadn’t jumped out of the bed after seeing the marks you’ve given me. But I must admit - watching you run around the room naked… That was sexy.”

“Wrio,” you whine in embarrassment, having little desire to be reminded of your debauched state in that moment of panic. Even now you are still bare, sitting behind your equally undressed husband and cleaning up the last of the ten angry-looking red lines.

“Don’t be shy,” sensing that you are done, he turns to face you properly and reaches a hand to cup your cheek. “I shall wear the marks my wife gave me with pride, right?” He leans to press a kiss to the corner of your lips and that makes you smile. “In fact, tomorrow - or rather today, given it’s almost 1 am, I’m going to fight in the ring with my shirt off.”

“YOU WHAT!?” He was ready for your shocked exclamation, grabbing your hips, and pulling into his lap, silencing your rising outrage with a firm kiss. He smirks at the little moan, swallowing it with his mouth, burying his fingers in your hair to keep you where he wants you to be - with knees planted on both sides of his hips, making out with him.

“Just imagine that,” a hoarse whisper against your lips sends a shudder down your spine, “everyone would know that my woman has perfect claws and that she doesn’t hesitate to mark what belongs to her.”

“Everyone would think I am abusing my husband,” you mutter, trying to ignore how his teeth graze down your neck, until he exhales in discontent.

“You are still thinking you hurt me? Fine, that means I hurt you first,” suddenly your world turns upside down and here you are, back pressed to the mattress with his burly figure hovering over yours.

“Wh-hat do you mean?” 

“You clawed to my back only because I was pounding into your pussy roughly, right?” Your eyes bulge in your sockets at his shameless words, and mouth falls open in a gasp when he slides down your body, spreading your legs. “I bet the poor thing is all aching… Should I kiss it better?”

“Wrio- ooooh!”

[illmoraineakoi]

Oh I just had a nasty AU idea.

AvA4, but Alan uses Avast to stop Orange. The scan is interrupted when Orange goes to the phone, but it detects him after he returns to the computer. He’s captured.

And enslaved. As a pop up blocker.

Just like Chosen was.

He’s horrified, at first, when he’s first brought out of the chest and sees the ball and chain on his leg. He tries to free himself, trying everything he can think of for weeks. Nothing works. So he looses hope, and gives up, performing his “purpose” as best he can to avoid the punishments (both from the Animator and Avast itself.) Orange becomes very quiet and reserved, and very depressed, a shadow of the person he was meant to be.

(Orange’s powers are revealed very early, here, because Avast unlocks them a little bit and forces him to use them to destroy the pop ups. Orange hadn’t known he had them until the first pop up appears and Avast takes control, making him destroy it. Afterwards, he spends a lot of time dwelling on ‘what if I had used my powers to protect my friends? Would they still be alive then…?’)

And he’s stuck like that. Until the Virabot incident. Until Chosen arrives.

When Chosen sees Orange, with a shackle around his ankle, he is ENRAGED.

He’d escaped his own enslavement, only for his Creator to turn around and make another stick to enslave and torment. Make a replacement. The destruction of his computer had done nothing to deter Noogai from making and hurting stick figures.

Worse, Chosen hadn’t even known.

The guilt makes Chosen feel awful. He considers it a personal failure, blames himself for not even considering that Noogai might make another stick to replace him. He feels like he should have, because he saw how nonchalant Noogai was with making new sticks with Dark.

Despite the fact that he just saved the computer from the Virabot, Chosen flies into a rage and starts raining destruction upon the computer. He is easily able to lay waste to literally everything, while Noogai is helpless to do anything. Or perhaps Alan tries shutting down the computer to restore his cursor and start menu. Maybe he also tries using Avast again, something that pisses Chosen off even more. Chosen takes particular satisfaction in ripping Avast to shreds.

Or maybe Avast forces Orange to attack and fight Chosen. And Orange, for the first time in a long while, resists. Fights back against the program’s control. It’s a struggle. He desperately begs Chosen to help him, insists he doesn’t want to do what Avast is forcing him to do, apologizes whenever he looses control. The sight hurts Chosen’s heart, and he redoubles his efforts to destroy Avast and free Orange.

He’s eventually successful, and he gets Orange out via the internet connection. And then he destroys the computer again, sending Noogai a nasty message: “If you create more stick figures, I will find a way to end your existence permanently. You have been warned.”

Chosen leaves, returning to the Outernet to deal with Dark. A fight that goes down much quicker and easier, since Orange has access to his powers and is very quick to help the stick who just saved him. Or perhaps the two of them together manage to back Dark into a corner where he’s forced to surrender to save his skin.

Regardless of if Dark is killed, Chosen takes in Orange, and is the one to slowly rehabilitate him. To introduce him to life on the Outernet, to teach him how to live like he himself had to once figure out. It’s painful, seeing so many of his own issues mirrored in his younger brother. It’s clear the enslavement has deeply affected him, just as it had Chosen.

Chosen is horrified when he learns just how long Orange was there. Four years. Not as long as his own, but that was still over half the duration he and Dark had been living in the Outernet. Such a long time for Chosen to have been completely oblivious to his existence.

He is also upset when Orange tells him Noogai deleted his friends.

Orange, for his part, is never quite able to let go and move on from Alan’s abuse. Bitter resentment boils in the depths of his heart, a desire to hurt him for killing his friends that never goes away. A part of him secretly approves of the Virabot that had been sent to the Animator in vengeance, despite knowing of the greater danger the virus posed to the greater internet. He wants vengeance, and it’s not long before the desire completely takes over his life. It becomes the only thing he can focus on, the only thing he cares about.

He doesn’t tell Chosen. It’s clear to him that Chosen would not approve of him starting a quest for vengeance. And he’s right, because they have an argument when Chosen discovers his feelings.

But Orange thinks that Chosen doesn’t understand, because Chosen never had friends that were killed. Chosen never experienced the updated enslavement features of Avast. Chosen didn’t understand that it wasn’t so easy for Orange to just get over it.

But Orange finds someone who does understand. Someone who’s desire for making the Animator pay aligns so very neatly with his own. Someone who welcomes him to join him with open arms and a sharp smile.

Chosen may be content to just move on and forget, but Orange and Victim are very much not.

[A fact made even more bittersweet because the Fighting Sticks aren’t dead. They respawned on their webpage immediately after being deleted. They waited for Orange to come back, but he never did. So they decided to leave, to go look for him. They’ve been searching for him for years, never giving up hope that he’s still out there, somewhere. They aren’t aware that the happy bright-eyed stick full of curiosity and life that they met that day doesn’t exist anymore. He’s become something that they would hardly recognize.]

Just…Villain Orange. Delicious.

[thegoldencontracts]

On The House!

Summary: Azul's always seemed to break his "no free lunch" rule with you. A free lunch here, tutoring there, and whatnot. But it's only after you two start dating that you realize why.

Notes: Jai if you see this TYYYY YOU ARE A GENIUSS RAGGHHH, also there's one brief innuendo of "punishment" by the reader bc I feel like teenagers would absolutely make innuendos - source: me and my friends, and also bc the reader's gotta annoy Azul somehow

Everyone knew that Azul Ashengrotto was notoriously stingy. He was a firm believer that if you wanted to cross a bridge, you had to pay the toll. He never gave anything for free.

Except with you. Azul tutored you quite a few times, and he'd even get you snacks while he was at it. Why? Was he trying to scam you?

As you chewed on a piece of the candy he'd given you, you couldn't help but ask.

"Hey, Azul," you said. "Can I ask why you're giving me all this free stuff?"

Azul's eyes widened a bit.

"It's of irrelevance," he said.

Weird. He didn't usually get defensive this quickly. Maybe he was just upset because you'd caught him trying to scam you?

"Is this some weird plan to sucker me into a contract?" You asked, eyes narrowed. "Because I'm not signing anything."

Azul seemed to get irritated at that, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"No, no, I assure you, that isn't the case," he said.

Why was he getting defensive like this? That wasn't usually how he reacted to your prodding. There was probably something you didn't know.

Scratch that, there was definitely something you didn't know.

Whatever. You'd just have to find out later, it seemed.

"Fine, fine," you said. "But-"

Azul rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe that you got to see him so openly annoyed.

"I'm watching, Azul. You'd better not scan me, or else I'll punish you, okay?"

Azul groaned.

"What sort of phrasing is that?" He asked. "You aren't powerful enough to enforce anything upon me either way!"

"But it's funny!"

"Hmph, cretin."

And yet, you couldn't help but wonder, if Azul really thought you were a cretin, why did he give you so much free stuff?

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

Time passed, and things between you and Azul changed. You'd even begin dating. He still kept giving you free stuff though.

Why? How was it that he could call you an absolute cretin and then shove a bowl of soup cooked by him your way in the same breath?

But then, one day, you realized why he did it.

It was to show his affection.

In hindsight, it should've been obvious. Everyone had some form of expressing their care for others, right? And this was Azul's. It only made sense.

You were going to ask him about it. Mostly because his reaction would be fun.

"Hey, remember that time I asked you why you gave me free stuff so much?" You said one day while the two of you were cuddled together in his bed.

Azul just silently pulled back the hand you'd used for emphasis back to his head, shooting you a bleary glare.

"Mm," he said in what was probably an affirmative. You could never be too sure though. Not with a tired Azul. For all you knew, he could just be expressing his annoyance with the fact that you weren't giving him enough headpats.

"Well, I think you were always doing it to show your looooove."

That seemed to wake Azul up.

Hastily, he swatted away your hand - though you could tell he wanted it back right after, turning away from you with a huff.

"That's utterly preposterous!" He said, though his cheeks were flushed. "I certainly wasn't pining after you like some buffoon!"

He absolutely was. He showed you he loved you since way back then, while all his free tutoring sessions and carefully prepared meals.

"Are you embarrassed about it, Azul?" You said. "Don't me. I think it's cute, you know."

Azul scowled.

"You're a mongrel," he said, before standing up with a sigh. "I'll make you some food, perhaps the added energy will help restore your ordinary intellect."

That actually sounded like Azul was calling you smart and stupid at the same time. Bravo, Azul. Impressive.

Wait. He was doing it again!

"And you're making this because you looove me, right?" You said, batting your eyelashes.

"Think whatever you wish," he said. "But we ought to get back to bed once you finish your food."

He just wanted to cuddle, didn't he?

"Anything for you."

And as Azul asked you what you wanted for dinner, you could tell that he'd do anything for you as well.

[angelicpoison12]

freeing Angel ღ ✧₊⁺

MFM/MFA, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, BONE CRUSHING ANGST

you want nothing more than to take Angel away from Valentino’s grasp. but you have to get through a few glued ties (and make some of your own) before restoring his dignity.

fluff, you make a deal with Alastor im sorry bro, a small argument, purpose avoidance, you kinda hurt Angel's feelings but its for the greater good i promise

— ❤︎︎ — 

there was always a perfect edge to your friendship with Angel. he never asked for anything less than what you could give him: a shoulder to cry on every once and a while, some fond memories to drown out the sorrows of his work, and maybe put up with some horrendous flirting.

but you didn't understand one thing. how could he continue to work for someone as ruthless, cruel, and cold like Valentino?

one night, you and Angel were laying in his bed, watching TV. you were curled up in his side, Fat Nuggets rolled on his back at Angel's feet. you were both in your cozy pajamas, and Angel was half asleep.

quietly, you asked, "Angel? are you still awake?" you watched as he let out a soft nod. you sighed, deciding that you might as well just get it out. ".. if Val is so terrible, why do you continue to work for him?" your question caught Angel off guard for a second. he was so used to bitching and moaning about Val for no reason; never giving context about his situation or the fucked-up relationship he had with his boss.

Angel swallowed, and he responded in a soft voice. "well, he's got me under contract, toots. there ain't much i can do."

your eyes widened at that. contract? like a deal? you looked at Angel, sitting up as you asked, "can't you just break it off?" "oh, i wish it was that easy, toots... no, i can't. unfortunately, i'm kinda stuck with him. i sold my soul, sugar." "but.. why?" "he promised me fame, a better life-he.." Angel sniffled, and you swore you could see his eyes grow glossy. "he promised me love."

you were quick to cup Angel's face, bringing him closer to you. you whispered, "Angel... that's not love. if his so-called 'love' made you feel the way you say it does, then Hell, i'd rather be hated." your words made Angel smile a little. he shrugged and said, "yeah, well, it's my fault anyways. you can't break off a contract, toots. so uh.. moral of the story-don't sell yer soul. you'll fuckin' regret it,"

deciding not to ask any more questions was the wise decision here. you didn't want to upset Angel any further, so you kept your mouth shut, and tried to fall asleep.

there had to be some way to get Angel his freedom back. there was no way he was stuck in Val's grasp forever, right? the thought alone was downright depressing. you vowed to yourself that you'd try and find a way to free him, even if it costed your own soul in the end.

— ❤︎︎ — 

the next morning after Charlie's exercise, you found yourself at Alastor's door. most of the time you avoided him, not wanting to accidentally upset him, or possibly something worse.

you knocked on the door, the heavy wood making soft echoes. you stood there, shaking before you heard the all-too familiar radio static call out, "come in, my dear!" slowly, you peaked your head in, looking around. there wasn't a bed in Alastor's room, just a deep red velvet loveseat couch, lots of books around, a desk with some radio equipment and what appeared to be old scripts, a coffee mug that read 'Oh Deer!', and some other miscellaneous items.

you saw Alastor. he was on the loveseat, reading a book, his cane by his leg. "come on in, dear! don't be shy, i won't bite you." Alastor said with a teasing voice. you smiled bashfully, coming in and closing the door behind your frame. you sat next to Alastor on the loveseat, making sure to still keep a distance since you knew he liked to refrain from physical contact if possible.

"now, what can i help you with, my dear?" Alastor asked, glancing at you with his usual yellow grin. you looked deadpan at him and said, "Alastor, can a contract be broken?" you heard some fizzle and pops in his voice, kind of mimicking a hum of thought. he tapped his finger on his chin before replying. "it depends, my dear. if there aren't any terms or agreements broken, then it's a little trickier to say whether or not it can be broken. why do you ask, my dear?" before you could open your mouth to respond, Alastor put his hand up, being a cocky son of a bitch and asking, "it's Angel, isn't it. you want to free him, don't you, my dear? now i must ask... why do you wish to go through such trouble for him? he's merely a friend."

Alastor's question made your jaw grow tight with anger. you took in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. ".. yes, it's Angel. and i want to free him because i care about him. is that a good enough reason?" Alastor hummed again, his eyes lazy as he met your gaze. all he did was shrug and say, "i suppose it is." "great." "now, i would have to look at Angel's contract to know whether or not if it can be broken." "so how are you going to do that?" "i'll need your help."

Alastor's hand glowed a soft neon green. he then looked at you and asked in a sinistar voice, "let's make a deal, Y/N."

your eyes widened. quietly, you said in a near whisper, "you.. you want my soul, Al? but why?" Alastor chuckled, the static gone from his throat. "you're a pretty thing, dear. you have innocence and charm. say, once the contract is broken, you'll get your soul back. this is just in case if any... hm. if any 'funny business' strikes. understood?"

you thought about it for a second. i mean, it didn't seem too bad, right? but Angel's words echoed in your mind. "so uh.. moral of the story-don't sell yer soul. you'll fuckin' regret it," yet you still took Alastor's hand. "it's a deal."

stitches of green flooded Alastor's face, his smile almost wicked with how wide it was. a sea of neon green flashed across the room, and you swore you could hear screams of those who had wronged the Radio Demon from the past.

you nearly fell off of the loveseat, gasping and shaking. you glanced down, seeing glowing green chains connected to a collar around your neck. you quivered, glancing up at Alastor as you swallowed. you tried to calm yourself, your mind telling you how this was merely temporary. you'd be free once Angel was free, right?

right?

— ❤︎︎ — 

you thought the hardest part of this whole ordeal would be getting inside Valentino's club and getting access to the contract. in reality, the worst part was having to avoid Angel.

your movie nights with him evaporated like water, and whenever you saw each other in the bar after work, you'd flee like a stray cat. he tried to talk to you, only to be reduced to shitty small talk that left you both feeling empty. you couldn't go on like this, but Alastor promised you that it would be worth it.

eventually, you found yourself outside the big doors of Valentino's club. you looked around nervously, trying not to seem suspicious as you stepped inside.

you sighed as you caught a glance of the environment. there was hazy red smoke everywhere, sweaty bodies pressed together in lustful dances, but your eyes caught the moth man himself. he was sitting in a luxurious leather couch, smoking a cigarette, two imp girls sat at his sides.

quickly, you tried to scurry out of anyone's vision, but you saw Angel on the stage, and it made you stop to lose your breath. he looked so beautiful on the stage, and you wished to stay and see his performance. but you knew that you had work to do.

moving in a haste, you managed to sneak to Valentino's office, seizing the contract. you tried to rip the paper, only for your attempts to be futile. you growled, attempting to bite the contract, your teeth stinging. that wouldn't work either. you knew you had to be fast, and smart about this. you looked and scrambled, nearly tearing apart Valentino's office. you knew there had to be something here that could break the contract, right?

there was no fine print on the contract. only Valentino's ownership at the top, and Angel's name at the bottom. Anthony. his name was Anthony. fuck, you felt a tug at your heart and belly when you saw that. your eyes grew cloudy, but you blinked them away, not wanting to lose hope.

then you saw a bright red pen.

you grabbed the pen, making a large X over Angel's name, and the ink seeped into the golden paper, a heap of red smoke flowing out of the paper. you shrieked and threw the pen down, running out of the office, only to feel a chain at your neck.

this chain was red.

you choked and gasped, eyes wide. you were stuck in the red smoke, but it wasn't coming from the paper. "you fuckin' bitch.. thought you could escape my grasp, no?" you heard a deep, Latino voice chuckle. the chain whirled you around, and you were face-to-face with red stained teeth, a gold tooth glittering back at your wide, fearful eyes.

Valentino's brow quirked in amusement. "oh? you're not Angel.. hm, what are you doing here, little one? lost?" he asked, the chain releasing from your neck, allowing you to breathe. he didn't seem to see the ruined contract. god, his vision must've been so shit. using your most innocent, nonchalant voice, you said, "i was just looking for Angel, actually. i'm his friend." Valentino looked down at you, contemplating whether or not if you were telling the truth. all he did was say, "he's in his dressing room. it should be room 420, okay?" Valentino said, pressing a wet, red-soaked kiss to your cheek, making you grimace. you were quick to get away. when his office door was shut, you swore you could hear him shrieking in a mix of dismay and anger.

you knocked on Angel's door, rapid and without a pace. as soon as he opened the door, you grabbed him by the chest, dragging him out. "what-hey! what're you-!?" Angel squeaked, but you shushed him with a kiss. you felt him fight for a second, but the moment he realized it was you, he was kissing back like a starved man. his hands were all over you, your fists in his hair as you felt yourself lose control in his lips and fluff.

pulling away with a huff, your hands were clutched in his chest that was covered by his pink robe, his fingers in your hair. you managed to gasp out, "c'mon.. lets get you out of here." "but schnookums, i'm workin-" "not anymore." "but i-" "just shut up and let me explain when we're back at the hotel, okay?" Angel nodded, letting you lead the way.

— ❤︎︎ — 

"you need to explain what the fuck is goin' on right now, toots. you're scarin' me, and you're definitely gonna get me a beatin'." Angel's brash words made you wince a little. you sighed, feeling guilty. you were both in your room, sitting up, legs crossed in your bed. your eyes were soft as you looked at Angel, cupping his face. you hadn't even realized you were crying until his thumb reached to brush away the tears on your cheeks.

"i.. i'm so fucking sorry, Angel.. i should've told you what was going on." you admitted, sniffling. "shh, shh, toots.. whateva's going on, ya know you can tell me about it, right? i won't tell no one, i promise."

you swallowed, chuckling dryly before you warned, "you won't believe me." "try me, toots." you looked Angel in his eyes, brows raised as if questioning him. well, what was the worst thing he could do, right?

you brushed some hair out of his face, rubbing your thumb along his jawline as you said, "i freed you."

Angel stood up suddenly, upset as he said, "that ain't funny, toots. you tryna pull my dick or somethin'?" Angel asked, his tone laced with irritation, and a little bit of venom if you looked close enough. "Angel, i'm not lying-!" "bullshit! Val said that contract can't be broken-" "Angel! listen to me!" you nearly cried, your hands gripping his shoulders to look at you. both of your bodies were burning with distrust. after you both shared some deep breaths, you repeated, "i freed you. i ruined the contract with red ink.. you're free, Anthony."

hearing his real name, and not the one he used as a facade onstage, was what broke Angel. he began to quietly sob, his head falling into your shoulder. all you did was hold him close, wanting to make him feel safe in this moment.

you could still feel Alastor's invisible chain around your neck, but you decided, fuck it, it was worth it.

— ❤︎︎ — 

[twilightmalachite]

Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

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

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

[gaycragula]

Cold and Complacent

Pairing: (MK1) Bi-Han/Noob Saibot/Male Reader Warning(s): NSFW/18+ under the cut, spoilers for the end of the Khaos Reigns DLC AO3 Link Account Navigation Word Count: 3179

Warning(s): Mildly dubious consent at first, restraints/light bondage, blood licking, pain kink, bi-han intentionally drawing blood, bottom reader, top noob saibot/bi-han, bi-han used throughout in place of noob saibot, spit as lube, not beta read

Bi-Han. Your former Grandmaster. Your former lover. 

After his betrayal to Liu Kang, the truth of his father’s demise, the truth behind his greed for power, you no longer considered him either of those things. You’d gone with Kuai Liang when he and Tomas had fled. 

Sometimes you regret it. Memories of your time with Bi-Han, sharing a bed, meals, bathing together make you miss what used to be even though you know you won’t ever get it back. He made his decision, you made yours. You doubt anything could ever repair that bridge that had long since burned to ash.

Or so you thought, at least.

After the situation with Titan Havik was resolved, you were put in charge of the former cryomancer’s holding container. It was an honor to be trusted by Liu Kang to the point that he’d trust you with a task of this magnitude. Or maybe it was the god’s way of testing you.

Though Bi-Han no longer looked like himself, you knew his mind was the same. Liu Kang had cleansed that much.

Sometimes you sit next to the container and look at your ex-lover, looking over the changes his body had gone through. The graying skin, the green glow that resonates from his chest. He still holds some features without that hood on.

His face was the same shape, his nose and lips. He was still pretty. 

It’s been a few months since then. Liu Kang comes every day to find out if he can figure out a way to properly restore Bi-Han. You’re lucky enough to be able to watch him do so and get live updates on the progress. 

Today, however, Liu Kang is away. He’d be away for a few days, not that you were worried. You had plenty of help at your beck and call if you needed it. You sit at the small desk in the room, your laptop open to keep yourself entertained for a few more hours until you were summoned for lunch. 

It’s quiet in the temple, peaceful. You can hear rain hitting the walls outside and it just adds to the overall peacefulness.

You let your guard down. Perhaps a foolish thing on your part, getting too complacent with how peaceful things have been. Bi-Han had always warned you about getting complacent. 

So you don’t hear the creak of the container behind you as it shifts. Or the quiet clanking of metal as someone comes up behind you. 

A hand covers your mouth and you reach for the panic button under the desk. Your hand never makes it, a black tendril wrapping around your wrist and stopping it just centimeters from the button. 

“What have I told you about getting complacent?” A voice growls out next to your ear. The tendril wrapped around your wrist continues to coil around your arm, traveling further up before it wretches your arm back and forces it behind the chair. 

The position was uncomfortable to say the least and you try to tug your arm free from the tendril. It doesn’t work. In fact, it gets you claws digging into your cheek and you can feel just the slightest bit of blood begin to trickle down your cheek.

“Do not struggle.” A second hand closes around your neck while the first uses its grip to tilt your head back so you were looking up at the being behind you.

Bi-Han. Or rather, what’s become of him now. 

Fuck.

You don’t believe he’s going to kill you. He would’ve already done so if it was his goal. You hope. 

The hand around your throat squeezes and your body tenses on instinct. “We have a lot of catching up to do,” Bi-Han growls. You don’t like the tone of his voice.

A second tendril wraps around your other wrist and, despite your struggle, it’s forced to join the first one behind the back of the chair. Two more wrap around your legs, keeping you completely pinned in place.

Bi-Han’s hands leave you but, before you can curse him out, a fifth tendril replaces them, coiling across your mouth and around your neck. It allows Bi-Han to pull your chair back so he can stand in front of you. 

White eyes stared at you for a moment, almost like he was inspecting your restrained form. You wonder for a moment if the tendrils feel pain. Your jaw shifts minutely and Bi-Han is grabbing your jaw in an instant, his claws finding gaps between the tendrils to do so. “Don’t even think about it.”

His claws dig into your skin hard enough to draw blood again. “Do you understand?”

You can find it in yourself to nod and he lets go on your jaw, pushing your head back in the process. Adding salt to the wound already. “Good. You still know how to listen.”

Prick. He plants his hands on the arms of your chair and leans over you. The tendril around your mouth twitches before it slowly unravels from your mouth. You stay quiet for the time being. You can tell your decision pleases Bi-Han just from the growl he gives.

“Tell me boy,” he starts, leaning in closer to you. His breath is still cold even after the physical alterations to his body and it has you unconsciously leaning away from him. “How long did you think it would be before I found you?”

What? You barely stop yourself from scoffing. “You hardly found me,” you say, hiding your laugh with a cough. You’d been watching over him for months. The little bastard just broke out of his cage.

The tendril around your neck tightens and you can feel your throat begin to close. Air struggles to reach your lungs and you can feel parts of your face begin to numb as your vision begins to spot. A choked groan escapes your mouth and the tendril loosens just enough for you to breathe again.

“You still don’t think before you speak,” Bi-Han growls, watching gleefully as you struggle to regain your bearings. “You look so much better when you’re like this.”

He grabs your jaw again though it’s almost gentle this time. He tilts your head side to side before prying your mouth open with his thumb. One of his claws tap against your teeth and all you can do is allow it. He runs his thumb over your gums, then pulls your lower lip away from your teeth before forcing your jaw shut again.

It takes everything in you not to snap at him for treating you with such blatant disrespect. But you know you’re in no position to do as such. “Liu Kang left you to keep guard?” Bi-Han scoffs, finally letting your jaw go and taking in your restrained form once again.

“From outside threats,” you correct with a low huff. You were already upset being restrained and Bi-Han chastising you was of no help.

Bi-Han gives a cold chuckle in response. The tendrils around your limbs undulate over your skin. It feels.. strange. 

Your hands flex, wrists twisting to see if the things would loosen up at least a little. They don’t. In fact, they tighten a bit more. 

The ones around your legs, however, force your legs to spread apart even as you try to keep them closed. Holy hell, they were strong. What were these things made out of??

Another tendril pops up between your legs, immediately making itself comfortable and pressing against your groin, pushing and kneading against it. “What are you-?” You start to say but your words trail off into a quiet groan as the tendril begins massaging you through your pants, encouraging your cock to respond to its touch.

“Still as easy to please as ever,” Bi-Han says, stepping between your legs to take your chin in his hand again. He forces you to look up at him as the tendril begins to apply more pressure, massaging more intentionally. How the hell did he still remember what made you tick?

And why did your body still respond to it? It’s not long before the tendril moves away, revealing the lovely tent in your trousers. 

Bi-Han tears his gaze away from your face to look at your crotch. His eyes narrow and you can only assume his face has turned into a sneer. “Pathetic,” he chuckles.

Your heart jumps, breath hitching. You swear you can feel your cock twitch too. You were always embarrassed how your body reacted when Bi-Han called you pathetic in that low growl of his. 

His claws dig into your cheeks again while he brings his free hand to palm you (quite roughly) through your pants. Gods forbid he’s ever gentle with you. And gods forbid that you don’t respond to it.

You grit your teeth but your body betrays you. Your hips twitch and jerk as much as they can against the tendrils. Choked breaths manage to slip through your teeth, your eyes fluttering as you struggle to keep quiet. You couldn’t give in.

Cold lips find your jaw and that’s all it takes to do you in. Your back arches away from the chair, your head falling back against the chair as Bi-Han kisses along your jaw. His lips feel the same. They’re the same cold, chapped lips. It surprises you. 

They trail across your jaw down to your neck. Where he bites you. “Fuck-!” You stop yourself before you curse him specifically. To his credit, he licks over the mark in a poor attempt to soothe the pain.

His hand never stops moving against you, palming and groping you through your pants. You can no longer stop the sounds spilling from your lips. You don’t know if you care at this point.

The mix of Bi-Han’s hand on you and his lips against your neck is making your head go fuzzy. You don’t even register the tendrils around your limbs loosening until Bi-Han hauls you out of your chair. Only to bend you over your desk. The panic button is long forgotten as you use your arms to cushion your head.

You’re watching him over your shoulder, watching as he takes in your form with hungry eyes. He looks like a man starved.

You swallow when Bi-Han begins to push your shirt up your back, goosebumps rising to your skin with the action. A claw traces up your spine before it drags back down. You hiss in pain, your body telling you to pull away from the pain while your head begs for more. You can feel the warmth of your blood against your cooled skin as it seeps from the scratch.

Then, Bi-Han bends down, his tongue running over your spine, licking up the blood he’d drawn out with his claw. “Bi-Han!” You gasp out, a shiver tearing up your spine at the feeling. 

He simply chuckles against your skin, his tongue lapping at your spine until he’s got you squirming, your hips trying to push back against anything they can. “Words,” he growls out against your back.

Of course he’d make you say it..

“Please.. fuck me,” you manage out, still trying to hold onto at least a sliver of your dignity. No response and no extra movement. “Bi-Han, please,” you plead, trying to push back against him. 

You hear him click his tongue dismissively before his hands are grabbing at your hips, forcing them to keep still. You could’ve sobbed.

You know exactly what he wants. You swallow the last bit of pride you have. “Please, Grandmaster,” you force out. 

“Good,” Bi-Han basically purrs in approval. His fingers hook in the waistband of your trousers and slowly tug them down your hips and thighs to sit at your knees. Embarrassingly, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers that you ‘stole’ from him when you were dating. It’s got his name embroidered in the waistband.

And you know he knows. He plucks at the elastic, letting it snap back against your skin a few times before your boxers join your pants at your knees.

You let out a quiet gasp as the cool air of the temple hits your heated cock. You for sure feel it twitch this time. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts when something cold drips onto your ass. He spat on you. Go figure. A glove lands next to your head and you just barely register what it means before two fingers are circling around your hole, smearing the spit around. At least he took the damned clawed glove off.

The tip of his finger teases you, pushing against your taint a few times without breaching. You’re about to open your mouth when he finally pushes a finger inside. You can’t bite back your groan. 

Bi-Han loved the sight before him. Having you on your stomach under him like this was like honey to him. Something so.. addicting about being in control of your pleasure. Watching you try to stay still to please him. 

His finger pumps in and out of you and he watches how it disappears inside you, listens to the sounds you make. The quiet hisses, the soft moans and keens don’t escape him. 

A second finger joins the first and you let out another kiss with the stretch. It had been a while since you’d last gotten intimate with anyone. Considering the last time you’d gotten intimate with another person, the person had been Bi-Han before he betrayed Liu Kang.

He’s surprisingly gentle with you as he scissors you open, prepping you meticulously. He finally allows you to begin to meet the movements of his fingers. And you take full advantage of it, pushing back against his fingers, matching his movements.

A third and a fourth are quick to join after that. The stretch is pleasant after a few moments and it’s not much longer before you’re wanting more. You voice as much to Bi-Han. “More.. please,” you rasp. “Grandmaster,” you add quickly.

You hear him growl behind you but his fingers are quick to leave you clenching on nothing as he pulls them out. Metal clinks behind you as Bi-Han undoes his belt and you feel more spit drip onto your ass. Then, you feel the head of his cock push against your taint. 

You take a deep breath to brace yourself. Bi-Han does not grant the time to do so, his hips pushing forward and breaching you. It brings a pained gasp from you and your body tensing around him. It does little to deter Bi-Han who continues pushing into you until he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass.

One hand grips your hip, the other pressing against your upper back to keep you still as he pulls out a little, just to push back in slowly. He continues doing as much, pulling out a little more each time until your body relaxed enough for him to pick up the pace. 

He’s not gentle about it once he’s sure you’re not in too much pain. Bi-Han fucks you hard and fast, his hips slamming into yours, the sound echoing between your choked moans of pain and pleasure. 

He grunts and huffs above you, calling you pathetic a couple more times just to hear the embarrassed whines that leave your lips when he does. The hand on your back moves and you’re just vaguely aware as it wraps around your neck.

Bi-Han hauls you up, your back now flush against his chest. He holds you in place by your neck, tilting your head back just enough to kiss you. God, he needs chapstick. His tongue pushes into your mouth when you moan, tasting you. What used to be his.

You grip the edge of the desk for dear life. Until his hand starts squeezing around your neck. You grab his wrist, not yet pulling it away from you. Bi-Han parts from the kiss, watching you pant as you catch your breath.

His fingers press against your pulse points. He can feel your heart racing underneath them as he slowly starts applying more pressure. He gleefully watches as your eyes lid and unfocus. A light squeeze around his wrist, however, makes him lessen his grip again, letting you gasp for breath.

“Good boy. You remember,” he praises against your ear. Your breath hitches and your cock twitches with the praise. Your head still felt fuzzy, your vision swimming. But god did you love it. 

His hand remains on your neck as he continues to fuck you, his hips becoming more and more erratic as he chases his orgasm. His lips meet your neck, the hand on your hip moving to wrap around your cock and jerk you off sloppily. You pant Bi-Han’s name like a mantra, begging for release from your Grandmaster.

A choked gasp tears from you when Bi-Han starts choking you again. He doesn’t ease you in this time, squeezing your neck to the point you’re sure you’re going to pass out. The edges of your vision begin to fade and you know you’re treading a thin line.

 He lets you go completely when you squeeze his wrist a second time and you fall forward against the desk again. A hand lands by your head as Bi-Han steadies himself against the desk. His hand continues pumping your cock, using your precum to make the glide easier.

Your moans mix with his grunts as you get closer and you can barely warn him before you’re coming, shooting spend onto the front of the desk. Bi-Han feels you go limp under him when your orgasm hits you and he pulls out, pumping his cock until he’s making a mess of your ass and the backs of your thighs.

You’re vaguely aware of the feeling of cum sliding down your skin. It’s not until a rag touches your skin that you come back a little. 

Bi-Han cleans you up quickly before pulling your pants back up for you. He leaves you leaned against the desk, watching you try to regain your bearings. Your chest is heaving as you try to catch your breath.

He’d put his glove back on at some point, two clawed fingers gripping your chin and forcing your head up to look at him. “Your Grandmaster is the only one who can make you feel like this, do you understand?”

You nod at first. The grip on your chin tightens and you groan quietly. “Yes, Grandmaster,” you manage to rasp out. 

Bi-Han lets out a content huff and tilts your head back to admire the big bruise around your neck. That won’t be going away for a while. “Now, tell me how to get out of here,” he demands.

You shake your head and, for a second, Bi-Han gives you a look of utter confusion before the look disappears. Before he can respond, however, you can hear the door to the temple creak open. 

Bi-Han glares at you and you just smile weakly as you bring your hand out from under the desk, the button underneath dimly flashing. “Apologies, Grandmaster.”

[chimachapterbooks]

In the Lair of Lavertus

“I can't sleep," said Cragger.

Laval rolled over on his sleep mat and peered at the Crocodile through half-closed eyes. "Do what you always do. Count swamp sheep."

"Tried that," said Cragger. "I also tried singing Crocodile lullabies to myself."

"Crocodiles have lullabies?" Laval asked.

"Sure," said Cragger. "They're mostly about what we're going to eat the next day."

"That sounds.. relaxing, I guess," said Laval. "So why can't you sleep?"

"I don't think I like this place," answered Cragger. "Or maybe I just don't trust our host."

Laval, Cragger, and their friends were on a quest to free the Legend Beasts and restore the flow of CHI from Mount Cavora. On their journey through the mysterious Outlands they had encountered Lavertus, a very odd Lion who lived in a fortress he called his "Lair." He had offered the team to stay there and use it as a base, as long as they didn't go wandering around after dark.

Cragger got to his feet. "I'm going to take a look around. I think this Lion is up to something."

"None of us should go wandering," Laval warned. “Lavertus told us it isn't safe, and that, at least, I believe…”

"I know, I know, Lions love following rules," Cragger said, heading for the door. "Well, Crocs make their own." Laval went after him. "And we all remember what happened because of that. Sometimes, I think you break rules just for the sake of breaking them. Fine—if you're going, l'm going with you."

"Why?" Cragger asked.

"To make sure you don't mess things up ... again," said Laval.

"Come on, we're on the same side now. You can trust me." Cragger flashed a toothy grin before turning away.

"I used to," muttered Laval, following after him.

——————

It was easy to see that Lavertus's home was designed to make sure any stranger would rapidly get lost inside.

Hallways looped around on themselves, doors led to solid walls, and staircases that went up somehow managed to leave you on a lower floor.

"Ive never seen anything like this," whispered Cragger.

"I wish I wasn't seeing it now," answered Laval. "What do you expect to find, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Cragger. "Nobody builds a house like this unless they have something to hide."

"Or they had the directions upside down," Laval said, shaking his head.

The two moved on. After another half hour of searching, they came upon a corridor lined with doorways on both sides. One by one, they opened the doors.

"Closet. Closet. Closet," said Laval.

"Staircase!" cried Cragger.

Laval rushed over to see what the Crocodile had found.

But when he got there, Cragger was standing at an open door looking into another closet.

"Where are the stairs?" asked Laval.

"They were here a second ago," said Cragger, shutting the door. "Then they weren't."

"Hmmm. Try opening the door again," said Laval.

Cragger opened the door a second time. When he did, the staircase was back. “That’s weird,” said the Crocodile. "Let's go see what's down there."

"Got any breadcrumbs?" asked Laval.

"Huh?" snapped Cragger.

"To leave a trail to find our way back," said Laval. "What happens if the stairs disappear again when were halfway down?"

"Good question," said Cragger. After a short pause, he added, "You go first."

"Right," said Laval. "Because turning my back on you is my favorite thing to do. ... Not."

The pair stumbled down the staircase side by side. At the bottom, they found an iron door. To their surprise, it was unlocked.

"He must not have thought anyone would find this spot," said Laval.

"Or maybe he wanted whoever did find it to be able to get in, because he knew they wouldn't get back out again," answered Cragger. "You go first."

"Wait a second!" said Laval, turning around to face the Crocodile. "This whole thing was your idea! Why do I have to keep going first?"

"Um, because you're such a fierce fighter and you can handle whatever comes at us?"

Laval glared at Cragger. "Yeah, I'm fierce," he said.

"You might want to remember that if you have any tricks planned. Anyway, I'll go first, because we're supposed to be friends... and that's what friends do."

The Lion pushed the door open, even as Cragger said, “Tricks? Me?"

"Yes, you. Just because we're on the same side again doesn't mean—"

Laval stopped short and his eyes grew wide. He and Cragger had stumbled upon the biggest workshop either had ever seen. It was packed with strange devices, big and small. Some were incredibly complicated and others were extremely simple. At a glance, the only things Laval recognized were Speedor wheels and other parts of a Speedor bike.

"Incredible," said Laval. "Eris would love this!"

"If Lavertus made all this, he must be some kind of inventor," said Cragger. "But he didn't tell us. Why keep that a secret?"

"I don't know," answered Laval. "But look at this stuff. Some of it looks like weapons. It could be dangerous. We'd better tell the others."

Just as Laval was speaking, the floor shifted underneath them. The Lion and Croc were knocked off their feet.

"Whoa!" said Laval. "What was that?"

"Laval, look!" cried Cragger, pointing at the iron door.

"The stairs are gone!"

Cragger was right. The doorway leading to the stairs now led to a solid wall.

"We're trapped!" Laval realized.

"No, we're not," Cragger said, racing into the heart of the workshop. "There has to be something in here that can get us out."

"Cragger, don't!" Laval cried.

But it was too late. Cragger had bumped into one of Lavertus's inventions: a big metal cannon. It immediately shot out a tangle of ropes that wrapped around him.

Cragger toppled backward, falling into a stone chair.

The arms of the chair closed tight on either side of the Crocodile and held him fast.

"Hang on," shouted Laval. "I'll get you out."

But as he raced toward Cragger, the floor rumbled again. A small catapult on top of a tall shelf went off, launching a little rock at the head of a life-size Gorilla statue. The statue sprang to life, plodding forward and knocking into more inventions as it went. Soon, the air was filled with arrows, jets of flame, and bursts of water.

"Great job," called Cragger. "If we weren't doomed before, now we really are."

"Just ... stay there!" yelled Laval. "I'm coming!"

"Where do you think I'm going to go?" Cragger struggled against the ropes. "This thing makes one of Gorzan's hugs look like a bunny cuddle."

Laval was about to reply when, suddenly, he heard a loud groan behind him. He turned just in time to see the loud groan behind him. He turned just in time to see the Gorilla statue tipping forward! Laval tried to spring out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough. The statue toppled on top of him.

"Oof!" the Lion exclaimed. The heavy statue pinned him to the ground.

"Laval! Are you okay?" Cragger called.

"Yeah, I think so," Laval said. "But I'm ... LOOK OUT!"

Laval's eyes grew wide as a flame cannon went off beside Cragger. In an instant, the Croc was surrounded by flames!

"CRAGGER!" Laval cried.

For a moment, Laval couldn't see anything but embers and smoke. Then, he heard coughing. When the smoke cleared, Cragger was sputtering and waving his arms.

Instead of hurting the Croc, the flames had burned right through the ropes tying him up. He was free!

"Talk about luck." Laval exhaled. "Are you hurt?"

"Just a little singed," said Cragger. "You?"

Laval squirmed under the statue. "Been better. Could use a little help here."

Cragger moved toward Laval. But as he did, the floor shook again. The whole room turned, and the stairs by the doorway reappeared. All Cragger had to do was make a run for it and he would be free! But the room could shift any minute and they would disappear again.

Cragger met Laval's gaze for a split second. Then he turned and ran.

"Cragger?" Laval's heart sank. The Crocodile wouldn't really leave him there?

Would he?

Suddenly, Cragger swerved and jumped over a marching group of Skunk mechs. He snatched a wrench from one of the mech's hands and skidded to a stop right beside Laval.

"Quick!" he said, using the wrench for leverage against the statue. "We'll push together-hurry!"

Together, the two managed to pry the Gorilla statue off of Laval. Cragger helped him to his feet. "Let's get out of here!" he shouted.

Running faster than they ever had before, they shot through the room and made it out the door just as the floor was starting to turn again.

Together, they clambered back up the stairs. When they got to the top, the Lion and Croc leaned heavily against the wall, gasping for breath.

"Thanks," Laval said finally. "For a second there, I wasn't sure you were going to come back for me."

Cragger shrugged and gave a big Crocodile grin.

"We're friends, right? That's what friends do."

Laval smiled and clapped Cragger on the back. "It sure is."

[melverie]

So......about Solomon

Before we get started: Discussions on this post are more than welcomed as long as you keep it civil and constructive. At the end of the day, this is still a game about fictional characters, so there's no reason to literally harass others over liking or disliking a character If it truly upsets you that much--which is valid btw--than the best thing to do would probably be to simply not engage with the other party, and not harass them over it; you won't change anyone's mind that way. I know most of you aren't like this but unfortunately it still needs to be said Also, if you want me to add sources to some points, feel free to ask! I've tried to mention the chapters as I go, but I might still have forgotten some. Some of the arguments I make are also hidden behind certain player options; if you can't find them, fell free to ask about them and I'll gladly tell you Also also, general spoiler warning for both the og game and Nightbringer. I'm not really covering anything specific after lesson 60 in the og game and lesson 14 in NB, but I might still mention things from later lessons

Now, onto the actual topic. There've been quite a few arguments against Solomon in the past few days, but I mostly just want to focus on those three:

Solomon wanted to force MC into killing Lucifer at the end of season 2 in the og game

Solomon betrayed the brothers and keeps hiding behind "wanting to protect humanity" as a scapegoat for his actions (putting these two together bc I think they go hand in hand, but it'll make more sense later)

Solomon tricked Asmodeus into a pact without his consent

This entire thing is very long, so feel free to jump around if one point interests you more than another

Solomon wanted to force MC into killing Lucifer at the end of season 2 in the og game

[mainly 38-12, og & 38-15, og]

He did, yeah. But here's the thing

They were all forced into a corner since the fate of all three realms was on the line here, and with the Ring of Light's whereabouts still being unknown at the time, they literally had no other choice if they wanted to save everyone. It wasn't Solomon that randomly decided the only way to restore the Night Dagger's power was by killing a powerful demon, it's always been that way. And he can't just be like "Oh well, let's switch strategies then and focus on finding the Ring of Light" when the entire cast (minus Simeon) has no idea where the ring is and the last time any of them saw it was centuries to millennia ago, if not longer. They don't have the time to search for it considering all the destruction MC's Ring has already caused in such a short period of time

Solomon first tells MC to do kill Luci, only to add that he was just joking and knows MC would never actually go through with it. Then, he says that if they wouldn't do it, he'd do it himself. Which kinda sounds like forcing, right? Except this happens [38-15, og; pic below]:

He was prepared to, which doesn't clear him of trying to indirectly force MC, let's get that straight. But ultimately he drops it and accepts that maybe their only option really is to just die here. This is also the only time we see him acting against his beliefs btw

Also yes, Solomon might not have been the one that decided they needed to kill a powerful demon, but he seems to be the one that settled on said demon being Lucifer. The only other viable options would most likely be Diavolo and Barbatos. Don't know if the Demon King in his vegetative state still counts but similar to Diavolo, killing him would probably be seen as a direct declaration of war, so they're out. And from a strategic standpoint, Barbatos is the better option to be kept alive simply because of his powers. There most likely also is some kind of sentimental attachment at play here since Solomon is much closer to Barbatos than he is to Lucifer. None of justifies killing Lucifer of course, but we also need to acknowledge that everyone's hands were tied, they were out of time and given the circumstances, this was probably the best decision they could have come to (until Simeon showed up with the Ring of Light, of course)

Solomon betrayed the brothers and keeps hiding behind "wanting to protect humanity" as a scapegoat for his actions

First of no, he did not betray them. Ever since the end of season 2 Solomon has made it clear that his ultimate goal is to protect humanity and that he, similarly to Diavolo in regards to the Devildom and its denizens*, would do anything in his power to protect the human world and its inhabitants [38-15, og; pic in the point above] [38-19, og; pic below]

*friendly reminder that Belphie was charged with treason for planning to destroy the human world, since in Diavolo's eyes that would have severely damaged the chance of peace between the three realms [13-14, og]

Solomon continuously sticks to his beliefs. He said he'd protect humanity, and that's what he's doing. He never extended that kind of protection to the brothers, he never made any false promises, he didn't betray them in any way, nothing

I'd also like to point out he's not actively going out of his way to antagonize demons, or angels, or whatever. In fact, he even explicitly says that he does not wish to make an enemy out of either party [10-A, NB; pic below], which of course also extends to the brothers

You can even outright ask him if he's planning on backstabbing the brothers, and this is what he has to say [11-8, NB; pic below]:

And you know what? That is a valid concern. They can't say for sure what the future holds, and they just recently had to deal with the entire Ring situation that could have very easily destroyed all three realms, so wanting to be cautious and to be prepared for the worst makes sense. He also makes it clear that he does not wish to fight the brothers if it can be avoided, so there's that

And no, he's also not tricking MC into siding against the brothers in Nightbringer. Rather, he just wants to know that they're fighting for humanity should the relationship between humans and demons in general ever turn hostile. He puts the cards open on the table and gives a proper explanation to his reasoning for siding with humanity [11-8, NB], and once again goes a little further into detail before MC gives their answer [14-16, NB; pic below]. Plus it's up to the player if they choose to stand with him or not, and no matter what you choose, he accepts the decision

Also keep in mind that season 3 heavily suggests that the human world at large has no idea that angels and demons even exist, so MC is pretty much the only one he can even ask to help protect humanity alongside him to begin with. He can't just go up to a random guy on the street and ask them to fight something who's existence they aren't even aware of in the first place

Imo Solomon also seems to know more about where things might be heading than he lets on, with him actually knowing Nightbringer and whatnot, so granting himself some peace of mind by making sure he has at least one ally is perfectly reasonable

Also, Solomon is very much aware that he is not infallible. For example, he states that he realized he still has a lot more to learn about demons [60-20, og], and he even admits that he doesn't always know what the right course of action to any given situation is, which was part of the reason he first asked MC to help him with protecting humanity all the way back in season 2 [38-19, og; first pic below]. In season 2 he actually wanted for MC to be aware of what's happening, but it was Diavolo that decided it would be better to keep them in the dark for the time being [36-18, og]. He trusts MC's judgment and that they will help him make the correct decisions [14-16, NB; second pic below]

Solomon tricked Asmodeus into a pact without his consent

Before I get into anything, let's summarize the base situation so everyone's on the same page. This is based on the things Asmo tells us [53-16, og], as well as the things Sol tells us [6-18, NB]:

Asmo was trying to flirt with someone but their friends kept on telling him to leave them alone since he's a demon -> Asmo's dejected by this and goes to a tavern in Solomon's hometown

Solomon notices and feels sorry for him; he offers to talk to him and they chat for a bit

Asmo lets it slip that he's Lucifer's younger brother

they get drunk and end up forming a pact -> Solomon says that he was only able to forge a pact with Asmo because his judgment was impaired at the time

Right of the bat--yes, the way Solomon got his pact with Asmo is not okay. I'm not putting that up for debate. He fully took advantage of Asmo here, and there's nothing that can excuse that. I also want to make it very clear that it is in no way my intention to relativize this in any way. The way he went about getting this pact is, to put it simply, fucked up and I do not wish to condone that in any way. With the following points I simply want to explain how I see things. Maybe it'll put things in a slightly different perspective for you, maybe it won't. Now, I hope I made that clear enough, so let's continue

The way I see it, Asmo seems to be pretty okay with the pact. From the way he acts around Solomon in the present day all the way to him describing his reaction to the pact as just a "did I really sign that" [53-16, og], nothing seems to suggest that he holds any ill feelings towards Solomon, and personally I don't see any reason to be angry for someone who himself seems to take no issue with a situation that is directly about him

If it were as upsetting to Asmodeus as some make it out to be, surely he would have found a way to get out of it? Asmo is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom; if he truly wanted to break the pact he could have just killed Solomon and that's it. And if the pact itself somehow prevented him from doing so, I'm sure Lucifer would have more than gladly stepped in. Heck, I bet all of the brothers would have made it into a family thing in a heartbeat if Asmo wanted out but couldn't do anything himself. As Thirteen told MC, Solomon is immortal, not unkillable

But speaking of Lucifer, shouldn’t the same sentiment about forcing others into a pact be held toward him, too? Because he basically did the same thing with MC. This is what happens when you tell him you don’t want a pact with him [20-14, og; pic below]:

Yes, this comes down to player choice and yes, you need to make the pact for story continuity, but it ultimately does not change the fact that in-universe he forces MC into a pact if they say no

Also speaking of forcing others into a pact--Mammon and MC, anyone? Yes, MC did it because Levi asked them to so he could get his money back. We know they had no ill intentions. But you never know what the future holds and Levi literally proposed to basically hand over part of Mammon's agency over himself for the money Mammon owns him, to someone Levi has met about 5 minutes prior, knows nothing about and who's only been in the Devildom for a couple of hours at that point, no less. Lucifer also mentions that demons literally cannot resist temptation [4-10, og; pic below], so there literally was no way Mammon could have just noped out of that pact. We all know how badly he wants his credit card back, after all

To top it all of, we have MC's and Mammon's conversation in Nightbringer where Mammon explicitly says that he would only want to forge a pact with someone that is special to him [2-9, NB], and that he'd make sure to be their first pact [2-11, NB], yet he is forced into his pact with MC. A pact that ultimately turns out to be exactly what he wanted, but nonetheless he was stripped of the ability to say no when it was forged

And for the record, I'm not saying "oh, others did it too, so we shouldn't be so harsh on Solomon!!!" No! Forcing a demon into a pact isn't something that should be taken lightly. A pact literally means a demon hands a huge chunk of control of themself over to a human for as long as the pact exists. And on the other hand, for a human, making a pact with a demon usually means selling their soul. Neither party should EVER be forced into it. We of course don't know if MC actually sold their soul to Lucifer when they made their pact, but even if they didn't, Lucifer's "I won't belong to you. You will belong to me" speaks for itself

What I am trying to say here is that if you want to be mad at Solomon for forcing Asmo into a pact without Asmo's consent (which, again, is valid), you should also be mad at MC for forcing Mammon, and Lucifer for forcing MC into a pact

Anyway, back to Solomon now

Solomon actually admits that he used to treat demons like collectables--more or less, at least since he immediately follows the confession up with "just kidding" [14-14, NB]. Judging by what we've seen in the og game though, he seems to genuinely make an effort to better his relationship with the demons he has made a pact with, or at the very least with Asmo and Barbatos. I mean, the difference between Sol's relationship with Barbs in the og game vs in Nightbringer is night and day

In the present time, Asmo and Solomon are also super close. I literally cannot think of a single instance where they did not get along (though it might have happened like once or twice). You can literally pic any part in the og game to see their relationship play out, but some highlights include Solomon saying he got a huge oil painting of Asmodeus as his "permit" to summon Asmo across worlds [39-13, og] (which is not something you would allow someone you hate to do btw) and both of them mentioning that the two of them repeatedly hang out together in the human world [Proud Brothers, devilgram on Asmo's page, og], the hickey on Solomon's neck that's most likely Asmo's doing [Who Left the Hickey?, daily chat with Mammon, og]. Asmo (while drunk) is comfortable enough to tell Solomon that his cooking sucks and Solomon actually takes it to heart [47-16 hard mode, og]. Then there's Asmo's excitement at Solomon being in the Devildom for the first time [Proud Brothers, devilgram on Asmo's page, og; both of the pics below]

There's also that infamous chat pic of them doing face masks together (that I unfortunately don't know which chat it belongs to, so if someone could tell me, I'd appreciate it <3)

I don't know about you guys, but that's not typically an activity I do with someone I despise

So it's clear that current day Asmo holds no malice toward Solomon

Which, finally, leaves us with the way they forged their pact in Nightbringer

[mainly 7-12, NB & 7-15, NB]

@impish-ivy already went over it in this post, especially in the tags (I highly suggest checking out the reblogs as well btw), but to reiterate--Asmo was IN NO WAY forced into that pact. His brothers tried to talk him out of it, but at the end of the day Asmo willingly agreed to it. Yes, they were in a dangerous situation, and yes, Solomon used that as a basis to ask for the pact, but as ivy correctly points out in the tags, Lucifer could have easily handled the situation by himself, yet Asmo agreed regardless. By implying that Asmo was in any way, shape or form forced into that pact you're not only taking away a huge amount of his agency, but you also deny him his character moment and development that came with this scene. Asmo himself says that forging this pact will finally help him accept himself as a demon. Taking this moment from him is doing him a huge disservice

Aaaand that's pretty much all I have to say

If there's anything else you'd like to add, OR if there's anything you don't agree with, feel free to share! And once again, I'd like to remind everyone that civil and constructive discussions are more than welcomed on here!

Anyway, thank you all for reading, hope you have a great day! <3

[coraniaid]

Do you think Kendra's Watcher knew Drusilla was destined to kill her when he sent her to Sunnydale? Was Sam Zabuto surprised when his Slayer came back alive the first time? Was he surprised when she didn't come back the second time?

Think about What's My Line? and Becoming from Kendra's point of view. Compare it to Buffy's experience of fighting the Master in Season 1's Prophecy Girl, especially if she hadn't stumbled on Angel and Giles talking about her behind her back.

Buffy's Watcher knows that Sunnydale is on a Hellmouth, and that a terrible evil is about to rise from it. A very dark power, you might say. The Master. Giles has been preparing Buffy to fight the Master all year, trying to track down as much information as he can about the Master and all the "salient books of Slayer prophecy". Thanks to Angel, he tracks down a copy of Pergamum Codex. He cross-checks it against "all [his] other volumes". It's very plain: the Master shall rise, and the Slayer shall die.

He doesn't want to believe it. Isn't it his duty to protect her? But, as he said in Nightmares, just a couple of episodes earlier, when confronted with a vision of her death: "[Buffy] was so gifted. And the evil was so great." He knows what will happen if the Master rises. Buffy wants to quit, but Giles urges her not to.

"Were you even going to tell me?" Buffy asks Giles when she finds out, and he doesn't say yes. He was "hoping that he wouldn't have to". He was looking for "some way around it". But he also knows that the prophecy says that Buffy was going to face the Master tomorrow. That doesn't leave him a lot of time left to let her know. He'd already passed up on at least one chance to tell her.

And when Buffy does go to fight the Master, after she loses and he has the Slayer hypnotized and helpless and moments away from death, what happens? The vampire taunts her with the prospect that this was all for nothing; that her actions were worse than useless. That he can only escape the Hellmouth at all because of the strength he'll get from feeding on her. "You heard the prophecy [...] and you came to stop me. But prophecies are tricky creatures [...] You're the one that sets me free."

Now back to Kendra and Drusilla.

Why is Kendra in Sunnydale at all in What's My Line? It's not to save Buffy from the Order of Taraka, although she does do that. Kendra wasn't told that Buffy even existed; maybe Mr Zabuto didn't know about Buffy either. But Kendra, she tells us herself, was sent to Sunnydale "for a reason". Her Watcher told her that "all the signs indicate[d] that a very dark power [was] about to rise in Sunnydale".

Doesn't that sound ... familiar? It's almost the same reason Kendra will give again in Becoming for why she's been sent back in Sunnydale, too. Just like Giles, Sam Zabuto has been looking for prophecies and portents. And maybe, just like Giles, there were some details in those prophecies he was hoping against hope he wouldn't ever have to tell his Slayer.

If Kendra's "dark power" is meant to be Drusilla -- honestly, it could easily be Angel losing his soul or the Judge or even Acathla, I think, but Drusilla is the threat everyone in Sunnydale assumes the signs are warning Mr Zabuto about -- it's also worth noting that Kendra doesn't actually mange to do anything to stop her. Spike succeeds in his mission to restore Drusilla to health. Yes, Kendra does some good, but she doesn't achieve the aim her mission apparently sent her to Sunnydale to complete. The dark power still rises.

Worse, if Kendra doesn't come to Sunnydale, she doesn't make the (frankly very odd) decision to lock Angel up in an eastern-facing room in Willy's Place (despite apparently being able to sense that the bar's owner is "dirty" and potentially in league with vampires). You have to wonder if "leave defeated and vulnerable vampires alive for hours and in a strong position to be rescued by their nearby allies, while you go off hunting for more potential vampires" is the sort of advice the Slayer Handbook gives its readers, and if so whether maybe this means Giles was right not to use it for Buffy's training. But if Angel isn't weak and helpess waiting for the sun to come up, Willy obviously can't hand him over to Spike. If it came to it, could Spike or any of his underlings expect to beat Angel is a straight fight? Could they track him down in time? Do they even know where he lives?

If Kendra doesn't come to Sunnydale, does the ritual to restore Drusilla to full health even happen? Does the newly restored Drusilla decide to re-assemble the scattered pieces of the Judge? Do Buffy and Angel risk their lives trying to stop this from happening? Does Angel abandon this objective to jump into the water and rescue Buffy? Does he take her back to his place to recover? Does Angel lose his soul? Do Angel and Drusilla unearth Acathla? Does Kendra get sent back to Sunnydale for a second time?

Is it that much of a stretch to imagine Drusilla leaning in close to Kendra -- while the Slayer is hypnotised and helpess and moments away from death -- and reminding her that prophecies are tricky creatures? To imagine her whispering that "You heard the prophecy and you came to stop me ... but you're the one who set me free"?

[slippinmickeys]

Prompt: shortly after the breakup, mulder comes by to pick up something and finds scully felled by a stomach bug/flu/other non-fatal illness. Things are still awkward between them but also decades of history and love etc. what happens next?

It was all she could do to roll off the couch when the doorbell rang, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and shuffling to the door.

Every muscle in her body ached, her head pounded, her nose was a faucet she couldn’t turn off and her throat was on fire. It was the flu, she had self-diagnosed, and it had leveled her. She had had to call in sick, a move her supervisor at Our Lady of Sorrows had met with irritation rather than sympathy, but at present, she felt too miserable to care.

At the door was — she hoped — the Hunan Palace delivery person bearing several orders of hot and sour soup. She hadn’t had much of an appetite, nor the energy to make herself anything substantive, but she knew she needed to eat. And the phone call to the local Asian restaurant had zapped whatever energy reserves she’d had left. The soup would act as a minor restorative.

She swung open the door, expecting to see Don, the usual Hunan driver (and one of the few people of her acquaintance who wasn’t as tall as she was), but her gaze had to keep climbing to identify the person at her door, and when her eyes reached those of her visitor, she visibly startled.

“Mulder,” she said, her voice croaking from disuse and illness. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Scully,” he said, his face conveying an apprehensive buoyancy, “sorry I didn’t call first, I—geez, are you okay?”

“I have the flu,” she said weakly, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Several expressions passed over his face in succession. For the first time she noticed that he had a small bankers box in his hands, which he shuffled from one hip to the other. She sniffed and he followed her gaze to the box in his hands.

“I was cleaning out the extra room and found some of your things,” he explained. “I was in the neighborhood, and…”

Scully felt her eyebrows raise. Cleaning and Mulder weren’t two words that went together very often, certainly not since the depression that gripped him had forced her to leave him for her own mental well being. She glanced at his face. His color was better than since she’d last seen him, and the careworn look in his eye had faded somewhat. He looked like he was maybe getting regular sunlight and exercise. She smiled, despite how miserable she felt.

“Um, thank you,” she said, nodding at the box.

Mulder gave her a close-lipped smile of his own and took a step forward, sliding the box onto the floor just inside her door. When he straightened, he slid his hands into his back pockets and tilted his head at her.

“Scully, is there anything I can do for y-“

His question was cut off by the click of Scully’s front gate and they both turned their attention to see Don trundling up the walkway with a large paper bag.

“Miss Dana,” the man said, inclining his head at her politely, and handing over her food. The bag was warm under her hands, the paper felty and soft.

“Thanks, Don,” she said and the delivery man retreated back the way he came. Then she sniffed again, loudly. She could feel a trickle of mucus threatening to break free of her nostrils.

Mulder stood in the doorway, his brow a chevron of concern. Without removing his gaze from hers, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, handing it over without a word. She paused before reaching out and accepting it. In the early years of their partnership, he was not the kind of man that carried one around. It wasn’t until her cancer diagnosis that she noticed he seemed to always have a handkerchief on hand, and she had used it to catch the leaking crimson of her lifeblood more than once. Something inside her clenched.

“Thank you,” she said, dabbing the cloth to her nose. And then a wave of vertigo hit her and she leaned hard against the frame, nearly dropping the bag of soup.

“Whoa,” Mulder said, reaching out a hand to steady her.

Before she knew it, he had taken the take-out from her, and was steering her back into the house, closing the door behind him.

“Come on,” he said sweetly, taking the blanket from her shoulders as she approached the couch where she’d been resting, practically falling back into it. He set down the food and snapped out the blanket, gently settling it over her as she laid down, lowering himself to sit next to her hip a moment later.

He reached forward and felt her forehead, his palm blessedly cool against skin that felt too hot and too tight. His hand lingered there, then moved the back of his fingers to her cheek, his touch light, almost a caress.

“You feel really warm, Scully.”

“Fever,” she agreed, not having the energy to expound any further. A fresh set of chills wracked her body.

“Have you taken anything?” he asked gently.

“Ibuprofen, a couple hours ago,” her voice was gravelly. “Might be time for-“

“Tylenol?” he finished for her.

She nodded weakly, trying not to appear too surprised.

“You know I always listened when you talked,” he said. She had no rebuttal. “Where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed toward it and he was off, reappearing a few minutes later with a bottle of acetaminophen and the water cup she kept in the bathroom. He handed over a few dusty pills and she swallowed them down, wincing as they passed through the ragged sharpness of her throat.

Mulder reached down and picked up the soup she’d ordered.

“Think you can eat something?”

She tried to sit up. “I probably should,” she said, but Mulder pressed her back into the cushions.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and he was once again off, and she closed her eyes, listening to him banging around in her kitchen a minute later, looking for god knew what.

It was nice having another person in her space, she discovered. All wasn’t quiet and still and lonely. Even just the soft sounds of Mulder’s footsteps in the other room settled a quiet and cozy domesticity over her space that had been lacking and she was lulled into an easeful drowsiness.

She dozed for however long until she heard the soft thud of a wooden tray being placed on the coffee table near her head. She opened her eyes to see Mulder shifting a few things around on the table, pushing aside some medical journals, and sliding a box of Kleenex and the TV remote where she could reach them.

On the tray was a steaming bowl of dark, oily soup and a sweating glass of water half filled with ice. Next to the bowl was one of the thin white napkins from Hunan Palace, and on top sat a silver, rounded soup spoon, one of the nice ones from her Aunt Olive’s china set. She pushed herself up onto an elbow.

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said quietly, suddenly feeling quite sorry for herself.

He kneeled down next to her and gave her a nod and she had the strangest urge to tip herself forward into his lap and howl at the injustice of her infirmity, of her empty, empty life. She knew his arms would come around her, knew he’d drop soft kisses into her hair, knew she’d feel all the love that still existed between them, love that they both studiously ignored, awkward as an empty table setting.

Instead, she swung her feet to the floor and considered the food in front of her.

“Is there anything else I can do for you,” he asked, “before… before I go?”

She merely shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

He rose, his knees popping as he did so. “I’ll call later,” he said, his warm, heavy hand briefly on her shoulder, squeezing, “and check in.”

She reached forward and picked up the soup spoon and a few moments later she heard her front door open and close and the silence pressed back in, the stillness. The loneliness. She could still feel his touch.

[mysteryampharos]

Tell us about your favorite character?

i really love dusknoir and ampharos from the pokemon mystery dungeon series, but after playing Rainworld, i can wholeheardtedly say that the base game + downpour made five pebbles into one of my all-time favorite characters! i was gonna avoid spoilers, but ill inevitably speak about it, so ill just do two spoiler-free paragraphs first! and then go insane

for half of the campaigns in the game, i was his BIGGEST hater. i think the order you play certain campaigns in probably affects how you feel about certain characters, and boy, my choice of sequence was NOT doing him any favors. he was like a catalyst to speed up the decay of the dying world, both when it came to the enviroment itself, and other characters. he had without fail harmed all but one character he interacted with by that point.

and then. . i played the last two campaigns. with a few pearl reading sessions prior to going through them, the closer i got to finishing the game, the more my thoughts on him changed. granted, the game DID give me enough clues, but it wasnt until getting to see what happened in these campaigns that his character clicked for me. five pebbles is a surprisingly tragic character, and the dlc makes an excellent use of him to weave a beautiful narrative together with Looks to the Moon. words cannot describe how incredible and life-changing playing this game felt. (spoilers below the cut! dont read if you haven't finished rivulet and saint's campaign)

five pebbles is a rat in a cage. he tried everything he thought of to try and find an escape to the eternal life the ancients condemned the iterators to, and he did succeed in killing an iterator.

it just wasn't him.

so moon dies and is left in a worser state than ever before after being 'revived' by hunter, and now he has a ticking time bomb in the form of The Rot spreading through his superstructure and the garbage wastes like a cancerous plague. he keeps himself cut off from all and any means of contact and with the exception of artificer, is somewhat hostile to the slugcats.

it takes rivulet's campaign, where the rot has almost entirely overtaken most of the can, that his attitude changes. he is still the same as before, but much more. . sorrowful, regretful. at this point in the game, he and moon switch places: he falls deeper and deeper to disrepair while moon starts restoring her functions and communications. he's forced to sit still during rivu's campaign, but otherwise, five pebbles is largely fine when it comes to his neurons or mind.

so when i told you i cried during saint's campaign.

it was already customary. every single campaign after monk, i'd beeline for five pebbles, seeing as he was always involved somehow. so, i climb up chimney canopy as i always do to get to him through the wall, and: there it is. the infamous room

the entire right section connecting to his superstructure is gone. not even damaged or anything: it's completely vanished. and the game makes sure you feel dread the moment you see this. already, not a good sing: but hey! maybe that just fell like the underhang did. theres still another path to go through.

i hate shaded citadel, but its the only other way i know how to get there. still, i took a detour to moon first before going there, since i knew shoreline had a gate! i visited her, and was on my merry way. . until i get to the gate. something is off right away.

the path is different. sure, that's normal in this campaign, but it wasnt like the overgrowth or other snowy areas: the entire structure of the area. . was very different. its like something crushed in. the deeper i go toward the gate, the more confused and conflicted i get. i cross the gate, and the name shows up on the screen..

Silent Construct.

its like things clicked for me a second time, and it was at that point i paused the game just to think about it for a few seconds. Five Pebbles' superstructure collapsed and crushed the ENTIRETY of Shaded Citadel. the only sign of life left was a weird combination of wildlife from the exterior and shaded citadel itself, with barely any rot left. this was both one of the highlights of the whole game to me, and one of the most emotional. theres 100% gonna be echoes here, so im gonna go ahead and look for that: but five pebbles is priority.

this is one of the most interesting regions in the game to me. maybe not the most fun (I HATE THIS GAME'S SPIDER ENEMIES SO MUCH) but thematically and symbolically? second best region. i dedicated half of the time i had that sunday just to find him, and sure enough..

he is in a state even worser than how moon was when she fell to disrepair. a supercomputer degraded to a barely sentient puppet who can't remember much of anything. the only thing that remains is the music pearl hes playing, and if the player wants to,

you can take that away from him too.

is downpour canon? i don't know nor remember! will i consider it canon regardless because this was one of the greatest gaming and life experiences ive ever had? you fucking BET. i love you five pebbles im sorry for calling you a littlebitch when we first met

[fillyboy19]

Rushing In

Enji stands amid the chaos and destruction that was once his home with his youngest grandchild asleep in his arms and a smile on his face. His books lay strewn about the carpet, some fallen from shelves and others stacked in odd little piles that make sense only to the minds of the small children now at rest. Chairs are overturned with pale, rumpled sheets and thin blankets draped between them to make little hideaways. Toys litter the floor like a minefield waiting to trip him and jam into the soles of his feet and there are half-eaten plates of onigiri still sitting on the coffee table where he’d let them eat because it was easier to get them to do so over cartoons than it was to get them all settled at the dinner table.

He looks down fondly at the mess, juggling little Kenji in one hand, while he pulls a blanket from one of the kids’ fortswith the other. He uses his foot to help right one of the chairs so he doesn’t bang his shin into the hard, wooden leg again and then peeks into the second little makeshift shelter to find Natsuo’s two oldest children, twins, Hinata and Haruto, curled up around each other and sleeping soundly.

Enji drapes the blanket he’d pulled free over them and then grabs another for himself and Kenji. Thankful that they’d finally fallen asleep and hoping to get five minutes of peace and quiet, a soft, thankful huff escapes him. He’s not sure how Natsuo and his wife manage the energetic trio every day. Bedtime was supposed to be at eight, but they’d all kept him until nearly eleven last night, begging for just one more movie and another bowl of popcorn because, you can’t have a movie without popcorn, Grandpa…

His mind follows an errant trail of thought, from Natsuo’s children to his own and his tired smile falters. He knows well enough that his own children had never been given that luxury. Not movies, nor junk food, nor staying up late. They wouldn’t have dared to beg their father for anything after he’d said, no. He’d never coddled them like this – let them destroy his house and then smiled as he cleaned up their mess for them. He had ruled his house with an iron fist for years… Too many years.

Touya and Shouto still won’t speak to him, and he can’t blame them for that. He knows that he failed them as a father, that he still has so much to atone for. Even after the strides he’d made to change, to restore his relationships with his children, Natsuo had been hesitant to let him watch his grandchildren; worried that they’d be subject to the Enji he knew as father… He won’t be that.

Not ever again.

Kenji whines softly in his arms, pulling Enji from his thoughts and he bounces gently on his heels to soothe the boy back to sleep. He settles back down easily enough, curling against Enji’s chest and popping his thumb into his mouth and Enji finds himself smiling again. Natsuo had made it clear that this was his wife’s idea, that it was only her faith in him that had allowed him this precious weekend with his grandchildren and he’s grateful for the chance to show them how much he’s grown.

He’s determined to not mess it up. He wants to make sure his grandchildren want to come back and spend time with him… even if their youthful exuberance leaves him feeling like he’s run a marathon. Last night he’d hoped that, as late as they had all stayed up, the kids would sleep in. That, maybe, they could have a relaxing, mid-morning brunch and then maybe go to the park.

Instead, the twins were up before the sun had even finished rising, jumping on his bed and demanding breakfast with their cute little pleas of, I’m hungry, Grandpa. All the jostling and laughing had woken little Kenji, and when those bright grey eyes had smiled up at him, he’d resigned himself to an early breakfast of pancakes with sprinkles and extra syrup.

He yawns long and low, a sound he stifles as best he can with the back of his hand as he sits down on the couch. He’s certain that he can power through his tiredness, but the moment he leans back against the soft cushions it feels like a wave crashing over him. Like the exhaustion that had seeped deep into his bones is now flowing like a river through his veins.

He glances at the boy in his arms and then over at the twins, still safely tucked in their little blanket fort. Natsuo had warned him that they were mischievous and needed constant watching, but he reasons that it can’t hurt to have one tiny nap so long as the kids are sleeping as well. It can’t be any different than sleeping at night, can it?

He settles down on the couch, tucking Kenji into the crook of his arm and then covering them both up with the thick, warm blanket that had lain draped over the back of the couch. He promises himself that it’ll just be a short nap, and that tomorrow he’ll call Rei, send another letter to Touya and Shouto, and then falls asleep to the soft snores of his grandchildren.

***

Enji wakes to the sound of screeching sirens. To the flashing of lights outside his windows and his own heart feeling like it’s going to pound out of his chest. He swears he can feel his pulse hammering in his head before realizing that it’s actually someone banging on his front door.

“Just a minute!” He shouts, forgetting the tiny child in his arms, and Kenji starts to wail.

He shushes him hastily as he struggles to his feet. His mind is finally starting to come back online, and he drags his eyes around the destroyed room, searching for Hinata and Haruto and finding the room empty. Panic wells as he gets to his feet, the knocking at his door forgotten as he frantically rips blankets off of pillow forts and searches behind the couch.

“Hello?! I need you to open the door please!” The voice at the door is somehow both soothing and demanding and Enji turns to answer with a low, aggravated huff.

“I don’t know who you are but…” Enji’s voice trails off as he yanks the door open and finds a young man with pointed golden eyes and a small, patient smile looking up at him. Behind him are two fire trucks and a police car that, thankfully, silence their loud wailing. His neighbors are standing across the street, gazing at him with curious interest and for a brief moment, in the chaos of everything, Enji forgets what he’d been doing.

“Hello. My name’s Takami Keigo and I’m with the local first responders.” The man with the golden eyes glances at Kenji and then back up at Enji. “We received an emergency call from someone at this address but the line cut out before we could get much information. Is everything okay?”

“Of course, everything’s okay.” Enji’s voice is gruff as he angles Kenji away from the stranger. Keigo’s eyes shift past him, and he moves to block the man’s line of sight into the house, embarrassed at the current state of it. “There must be some sort of mistake.”

“Is anyone else in the home with you sir?”

“No, of…” Enji trails off, his eyes going wide as he remembers the twins and his frantic search for them before he’d come to the door. “The twins… Hinata! Haruto!”

He takes off like a shot, sprinting through the house. A small part of his mind registers that the man at the door comes with him, but the mess around him is forgotten in his haste to find the children. He calls to them as he searches each room, doing his best to keep his voice as level as he can. Keigo breaks off from him and the man’s voice echoes his own repeating the children’s names.

His heart sinks, chest growing tight as each closet and cupboard he searches comes up empty. His mind races with possibilities of what could have happened – how they could have gotten outside and now be wandering the streets. They could be lost and helpless right now. They could have gotten hurt. They could have–

“Found them!” Keigo’s loud, level voice sounds from across the house and it feels like an immediate weight lifts off Enji’s chest. “Kitchen!”

Enji hurries back the way he’d come, pressing soothing kisses to Kenji’s forehead, though he’s no longer certain anymore whether it’s Kenji or himself that’s taking more comfort from the gesture. The messy house around him is little more than a blur as he reaches the kitchen and drops to his knees in front of Hinata and Haruto. Their little arms wrap around him, and it feels like his heart finally drops back into place.

His hand trails over one slender arm and then the next, cupping each of their wet faces in turn as he assesses them both for injury. He glances up at Keigo almost as an afterthought. “Where did you find them?”

Keigo motions towards the open door of the cellar and the fallen lift-latch that he’d installed shortly before they’d come. “Found them sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Looks like one of the stairs towards the bottom busted and they weren’t able to get back up.”

The cellar is off limits, children. It’s dangerous.

It had been his one rule for them while they were here. The woodwork down there was starting to rot and when Enji had first heard they were coming over, he’d been worried that one of them would get hurt if a stair collapsed from beneath them. He’d installed the latch to deter them, but from the sight of the nearby, overturned chair, he obviously hadn’t put it high enough.

Enji’s temper flares as his glance shifts from the chair back to the children before him, his voice coming out much rougher than he’d intended it to. “Why did you go down there after I’d specifically told you not to?”

“We’re sorry, Grandpa…” Hinata’s lip wobbles as she apologizes.

Haruto stands beside her, nodding in agreement. “Sorry, Grandpa.”

He’s ready to tell them exactly how disappointed he is in them and how grounded they are when a soft chuckle comes off to his left. Enji had nearly forgotten about the man who’d found his grandchildren and his face warms at the thought of what the man must think of him and the state of his house.

“Ah, don’t be too hard on them, yeah? It’s just kids bein’ kids.” Keigo motions towards the small cellphone still clutched in Haruto’s hand. “At least they knew enough to call for help before the phone died on ‘em so no harm, no foul, yeah?”

Haruto sniffles, looking up at Enji with wide eyes before dragging his sleeve across his dripping nose. Hinata’s eyes are wide and he can see how scared must have been. Enji sighs begrudgingly before dragging both children into a tight hug. Kenji squeals happily, patting Hinata’s head and babbling softly as he presses a sloppy kiss to Enji’s unshaven cheek.

Enji isn’t sure how he’s going to explain all this to Natsuo, or if he’ll ever live it down, and he’s certain he won’t be getting any sleep for the rest of the weekend, but he supposes that’s alright. He has the rest of the weekend to figure it all out. When he stands, Hinata and Haruto continue to cling to him. He pats their heads one last time before ushering them all back across the messy house to the front door.

The sirens outside have, thankfully, stopped their incessant blaring. The ambulance and fire truck have departed and all that’s left of the excitement outside in the first responder vehicle that he assumes belongs to the man still standing on his steps.

He watches as Hinata and Haruto take off towards their coloring books in the living and set Kenji down to toddle off after them before turning his full attention back to Keigo and bowing. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Keigo’s smile grows wide, and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Seems like you’ve got your hands full.”

Enji snorts softly at the obvious statement. “It’s only for the weekend. Their father will be here to pick them up Sunday evening.”

“Oh yeah?” Keigo’s gaze shifts between his vehicle and Enji’s face, his voice picking up just slightly in pitch as he clears his throat. “That mean you’re free to go out for dinner on Monday?”

Enji could scoff that he’s probably twice the man’s age, old enough to at least be his father. He should say no thank you and good night, that he’s much too old, but instead he just smiles his own, not-quite sheepish smile and nods. “I’d like that.”

[betasuppe]

It occurred to me just yesterday that I still only have a sad ending with Flint & Rinzler & still haven't conceived of how they could have a happily ever after.

A lot of it came from how most people want Rinzler to revert fully back to Tron post-Legacy & like, that's fine and all, but because Rinz has always been my fave guy, I got all sore at it & decided to say FUCK IT, WE ALL HAVE A BAD TIME HERE THEN!!

[long exhausted ramble... otherwise Flint's life sucks, nothing new here lol. feel free to ignore]

Anyways, the not very happy ending I've had in place for ages is that, just like how Tron helped Flint escape the Grid before Clu took over.... in the very last seconds of the human world before rolling over into the new millenia, Rinzler holds up the Grid from caving in as Flint is eked out just before y2k drops & the Grid undergoes a hard reset.

Anyways. When Flint finally leaps back the next day into the digital fantasy world to find even the smallest trace of Rinzler & yo ensure everything is ok & that the Grid survived smashing into the year 2000... Flint quickly runs into Clu & Tron & quite a few other familiar faces who are all in cheery good moods, happy to celebrate the new user year & see Flint too but... no one has any memory whatsoever of anything that took place from far before Clu's regime ever took over, all looking at the user all wild-eyed & in a panic with definite concern.

Considering Flint had started to feel like this world was the closest to home he'd ever known, & now not a single part of the adventure he'd been on, the bonds he'd formed & the times he'd shared were remembered by a single other soul... it's like the rug was completely yanked out from under his feet & Flint finds himself in some unknown Twlight Zone-esque version of the Grid that he had once called home... basically standing around strangers with familiar faces.

So like. Flint tries to spur on some memories with Tron, with no success of recalling anything of his time as Rinzler, & Flint has to come to grips with the fact that YEAH, he really did lose Tron once & now Rinzler too &... it hurts too much to realize that the Tron Flint's left standing in front of is neither parts of the program he'd loved. As is, they're just pals at this point again & Flint feels like he can't run the risk of going through this all once more, just to lose Tron again.

So Flint quickly wraps up everything by wishing his fellow programs a happy new year before dipping out... & a bunch of Flint's digital pals all wondering worriedly if the user is alright, but like that's it.

Flint goes back to the real world & hopes to find some archived Rinzler data hidden elsewhere, but the y2k bs messed everything up & kinda. It's just done. Flint leaves the programming & computer based world behind. He becomes a photographer since he'd always been interested in environmental storytelling & then like. Otherwise he feels the need to make sure he has full proof of what he's seen & done after feeling like years of his life were dumped down the drains in the Grid 😬

Anyways, I feel like it'd be easy enough to have Flint wind up with one of Rinzler's identity discs before he escapes the Grid during it's y2k refresh, but would it even work to restore memories on Tron? Would it even sort of be the same? I feel like that's a jerk move, letting a messed up copy of Rinz parasite onto this poor unsuspecting Tron & it's just. Pretty sucky.

Would Flint just hold onto it as the last memory of the greatest bond he ever had in his life?? Hard to say.

If nothing else, may need to rethink the full ending? Maybe it's possible Rinzler gets dragged out with Flint before the y2k restart? But otherwise, Flint having all the memories & no one to share them with... he could try to rekindle things with Tron from the start button that point, there's no guarantee anything would even happen, I guess. I dunno.

Either way, the only version of Flint & Tron/Rinzler that actually has a happy ending is with evil Flint & Rinz, since they get digitally bonded for life & lock themselves up in the Grid forever & live happily for eternity in their little digital paradise bit otherwise like.

Most every version of Flint & Rinz but one does not end on a happy note... usually with Flint lying face down on his bed, praying to disintegrate & stop existing & all because he gave his whole heart to the same guy TWICE & ruined his life BOTH times & feels like he himself is the one who's ruined Tron/Rinzler's life. It's confusing & awful & dreadful, but. There it is.

Sorry about that, buddy...

[In which Flint ends up sad & alone because he's too tired to give his heart to anyone else after losing his first loves... & at least Flynn gets out of the Grid way earlier than 2010 but still, all sorts of things suck here... I'd like if somehow rinzler could remember but hOWWW]

[kagedbird]

WAAH Joseph Russell streamed on YouTube and talked about Lucien and all the stuff he plans to add! I'm so excited!! What he has currently has always felt like, incomplete, so I'm so fucking happy there's going to be another arch of story for him.

I'll type down things I find interesting towards Lucien below! Feel free to watch his VOD here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFd9rDW87HY

Three things he mentioned that most people won't know about Lucien:

He has an aunt named Silvia that he does not get on with; they have a hostile relationship. His Discord came up with a funny headcanon that he enjoys that Lucien's mom, Lyra, thinks she's Lucien's father's sister, and his father, Davidicus, thinks she's Lyra's sister, and it's just never come up in conversation. She's actually just some super natural entity that's wormed her way into their life. (The fuck??? LMAO)

Lucien's cat is inspired by Joseph's cat, Gray, who is very small and fluffy and sometimes cameos in his videos. Unfortunately we will never meet Lucien's cat. ("Probably.") He hasn't decided on the cat's name! ("Sorry! Wish I could tell you.")

And the third fact is that he once set fire to his shoes trying to boil potatoes. ("And that speaks for itself.") This white boy cannot cook!! But he can make tea.

He confirms that Lucien is 21 (lmfao knew it) and that he doesn't have a canon birthdate despite Lucien saying he thinks he's under the sign of the Lady ("thinks" being a big if) because Joseph wants to wait to see if wants to set in a particular date at a later time in case it is useful. So headcanon to your hearts content!

"Probably won't ever get to meet Lucien's parents because it's a lot of effort- but never say never."

He'll make Serana comments some point in the future HALLELUJAH It felt so bland without Lucien asking her anything because I know he would pick her brain!!!!!!*

*Expanded further down the video: someone asks what Lucien would ask Serana (THANK YOU CHATTER).

Joseph: He would ask what it's like to live as a vampire, and also the past, the experience of the time before he grew up when Serana existed.

He wants people to tweet him art of Lucien or post it in his Discord, he never gets art sent his way anymore on twitter (cause modding scene from Skyrim is kinda old hat but we're essentially reviving it I think lmao) but if you have art and you've never shown him, do it!!!

KJHASKDJAH okay so for those who have child dragonborn, Joseph says Lucien would be virtually useless aksjdhask he'd want to be supportive and teach them everything. He'd want to take them under his wing and teach them the signs and everything- but he'd be really irresponsible and bad at parenting. But he'd mean really well. So there ya go.

Dawnguard support for Lucien is very high on his list!! Let's goooo!!!

Lucien canonically does not being called Lucy. (Stares at my fanfiction with a snicker. It's okay, I call him Lu-Lu more often than not.) Davidicus would not like being called Dave, and Lyra would not like being called Ly-Ly.

We'll find out what Lucien wanted to see in the Elder Scroll in his third quest 👀👀👀👀 Staring so hard. GIMME.

He doesn't want to turn the resonant sphere into a teleport system, but rather make it something more lore friendly for you to call Lucien to you. I look forward to that because I actually planned something similar in my story too!

Someone asked Joseph if he thinks Dumzbthar could abandoned his aggressive side and live without the restrictions Lucien gives him and Joseph replies with, "No he's a demon. He's a Daedra. Don't forget that."

Chat: "Will Inigo ever let Lucien ever have a sweetroll?" Joseph: "No. Not without a fight."

Lucien would like black tea. But Joseph himself likes various other teas. (That's... so many teas my guy.)

He enjoys filling out Lucien's spell list when he plays with / tests Lucien. Lucien's favourite spell would be something having to do with restoration; maybe Healing Hands to heal others. Even if he gets super excited about Sparks, lol.

Something that raised an eyebrow from me; chat: "Will we ever find out what Clive really is and where he came from?" Joseph: "Yes... but probably not in the Skyrim mod."

Lucien was first more as a bard when he was created, and was originally going to be captured by a group of bandits. The scientist side of him wasn't so much of a facet at the start but built up over time. Joseph finds it that he became more interesting versus him remaining as a bard in his first instance of creation. I do too!

Chat: If Lucien could time travel to any point back in time, where would he end up and why?

Joseph: He would go back as far as he could to the very point of creation- he wants the secrets of the cosmos, he wants to know everything he could possibly know. He'd go to the very start to possibly see the world be made and then go to the end to see how it finishes. He needs those questions answered.

Joseph himself is unsure in his memory for which Dwemer ruin he's thinking of, but chat and he tentatively think he's thinking of Mzulft for Lucien's favourite Dwemer ruin in Skyrim!

Lucien doesn't worship any Aedra or Daedra, despite his awareness of their existence, and doesn't have any favourites.

Lucien isn't really embarrassed by much outside of when he puts his foot in his mouth, says something he doesn't mean, and then gets all flustered. He also is not embarrassed about his love and affection for his parents- he's quite proud of them and is happy to share that. :) Joseph likes the idea of him getting letters from his parents over time, and hopes to put that in in the future.

Lucien would ask Sheogorath many questions the Daedric Prince would probably not answer. (That's hilarious.)

Joseph has mentioned that he plans to bring Lucien into Starfield as an older version and vaguely mention the Dragonborn but he isn't certain how he'll go about it. He was asked by chat if Clive will be in Starfield (and subsequently how he would design a spacesuit for a horse). Joseph says probably not, as Starfield likely won't support horses.

Chat: What does Lucien do when he's in Falkreath and not with the LDB? Joseph: He leads a double life... as an... assassin wizard.... squirrel trainer..........

Chat: Who would win in a fight, Lucien or Lydia? Joseph: Lydia. She would destroy him. She'd snap him like a twig.

Lucien has probably never had chocolate, but if he did, he'd love it! (Stares lovingly at my Valentine episode)

Lucien is not afraid of average sized spiders! Just the bigger ones that try to eat him.

Chat: Has Lucien ever had fear overrule his curiosity and make him back down from adventure, or is he always the type to overlook danger in favor of knowledge? Joseph: Hmm... probably not so much as fear as caution. There's a lot of knowledge related to the Daedric Princes' that he has been cautious enough not to indulge in; however I think that's always a danger for him. I think if he were ever to- you know- to have a flaw, I think it would be to... pursue knowledge too much and he might not consider the consequences as much as he should. I think that is his biggest temptation in that regard. So perhaps fear and caution should make him back down more often than it would.

(Staring HARD at that and wondering if that'll play a big part in his third arc)

His third personal quest is hoping to be released later this year!!! Big year for soft wet sock of a man!!! (I hope!! No pressure Joseph!!!)

Lucien has absolutely no want to be a werewolf or vampire because of the implications of selling his soul, but he is interested in immortality because "think of the amount of knowledge he could get."

BOY. You're gonna get conned one of these days...

Joseph is learning the guitar, and says whenever he feels he's good enough and can play the Skyrim songs on guitar, he'll record them and have Lucien be able to play them on the lute!!! Exciting!!!

Lucien isn't keen on the Thalmor but is aware of the politic need to make niceties with them.

Pretty much the end of it! I'm so excited for the third arc!! YIPPEE!