#rn i'm watching what we do in the shadows

[forcebookish]

when dis+ is gone i promise i'll actually catch up on ptl

[bunni-v1]

May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Can we have Reader ovulating so she's VERY horny x Alastor? (I'm ovulating rn and ovulation hornyness is no joke)

The Best Medicine

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW:NSFW- MINORS GO- 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: As a transman- I totally understand Anon. I hope you feel better. ALSO SORRY I WAS STRUGGLING SO HARD TO WRITE A FIC- But I was only able to do headcanons- ALSO THIS AFAB GN!READER

-🦌 First off all let me say this, his mama raised him right. A gentleman and will love you no matter what. But he’s still a little confused about everything so if you don’t mind explaining it to him he’d be grateful. Don’t be embarrassed about anything he’s a serial killer and cannibal, he’s not embarrassed about a little blood.

-🦌 Now- He’ll help you in anyway you want. But he’ll stop you if it makes him uncomfortable so when you do ask for him to fuck you, he’ll most likely use his fingers more often than not. Don’t worry, he’ll be extra careful with his claws.

-🦌 If he doesn’t, don’t worry he’ll let his shadow take his place and man..it can do wonders. He’s still watching so it’s up to you if you feel down for that.

-🦌 But for this request let’s say he is willing to go all the way to help you out, he’s dicking you down until your nothing but a whimpering mess under him. Doesn’t matter which way you wanna bend, he’s not letting you up until you're a blubbering and whimpering tearful mess under him.

-🦌 His still fully clothed and if you do end up getting his clothes a little bloody (it happens, nothing to be ashamed of) don’t freak out he knows the easiest way to get blood out.

-🦌 Oh will definitely use his tongue as well, the taste of blood and the fact he’s pleasuring you? Making you happy and feeling better? This makes him happier than you, he just wants you to be happy.

-🦌 Afterwards? He’s running you a hot bath and running off to change the bedsheets, get you some warm clothes and some jambalaya. You need to eat and hydrate after such a long session.

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Eight

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 8.4k

💥TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains DARK THEMES. Please proceed with caution💥

A/N: Sorry in advance for any errors, I'm not feeling well rn

Sitting stiffly in the cramped office at the Hartford Police Precinct, Raquel’s hands gripped the edge of the chair so tightly that her knuckles were turning an ugly shade of white. Across from her, Officer Gable leaned forward, his elbows resting on the scratched desk between them. The overhead fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting harsh shadows over the stacks of paperwork and cluttered files. Raquel’s nerves were frayed, but she kept her composure—for now.

Beside her, her colleague, Kelani, was anything but composed. The young paralegal trembled, her hands clutching a crumpled tissue that she twisted mercilessly between her fingers. Her tear-streaked face was pale, and her wide eyes darted nervously around the room as though searching for answers on the scuffed walls.

“It’s been days, Officer,” Kelani said, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear. “Gemini hasn’t been at the office. She hasn’t answered her phone. This isn’t like her.”

Raquel cut in, her tone sharper but no less panicked. “She’s one of the most disciplined people I know. If she was going to be out, she would’ve let someone know. She’s not the type to just… disappear.”

Gable sat across from them, his notepad resting on the desk between them. His brow furrowed as he tapped the pen against the pad. “You’re sure you’ve checked everywhere? Friends, family? Places she frequents?”

Raquel let out a small, frustrated laugh. “Come on, Gable. She goes out like everyone else, but she doesn’t disappear like this. Everyone knows her—she’s reliable. This is different.”

Kelani, her voice trembling, added, “We’ve tried everything. Her phone’s been off since Friday. I…I can’t shake the feeling that something’s really wrong.” She pressed the tissue to her mouth as if stifling a sob.

Raquel reached over to squeeze her colleague’s hand, she herself barely keeping her emotions under control. “It’s not just us, Officer. I’m in the Neighborhood Watch, too. I know there’s been women going missing around here. We’re just scared that Gem could become another statistic.”

Officer Gable leaned back in his chair, exhaling heavily. He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, his features softening slightly as he tried to reassure them. “Look, we all love Gemini, alright? We’ll do everything we can to find her. This precinct takes care of its own, and she’s part of this community.”

Raquel narrowed her eyes slightly, her sharp mind already making connections. “What about Carmelo?” she asked. “He’s her man. Does he know anything?”

Officer Gable shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the weight of her question evident in his expression. He glanced down at his notepad, then back at Raquel. “He’s aware of the situation,” he said carefully, choosing his words. “And, yeah, he and Gemini were seeing each other, but…he’s just as in the dark as the rest of us right now.”

Kelani let out a shaky breath, her voice thick with tears. “But if they're dating, shouldn’t he have some idea of where she might have gone? Or if something was wrong?”

Gable’s jaw tightened, a flicker of empathy softening his tone. “He’s been looking for her on his own, calling her, checking her place. Trust me, he’s worried too. This isn’t easy for him either.”

Raquel leaned forward, her gaze sharp. “Then why isn’t he here? Why isn’t he the one leading this investigation if it’s personal for him?”

Gable hesitated before replying, his voice low. “Because sometimes when it’s personal, it’s harder to see things clearly. Hayes is doing everything he can, but he knows this can’t just be about him. We’re all working to bring Gemini back safely, and that’s what matters.”

Kelani sniffled again, wiping at her eyes. “Please, just find her. We’re terrified something’s happened.”

Gable nodded solemnly. “I promise, we’ll do everything we can.”

Meanwhile, Officer Hayes sat alone in his office, the walls seemingly closing in around him as dread knotted his stomach. His desk phone and iPhone sat side by side, both useless. He’d called Gemini’s number so many times that her voicemail greeting was burned into his brain.

“Where the fuck are you, Gem?” he muttered under his breath, his fingers tapping anxiously on the desk.

He’d driven by her house three times over the past few days, each visit more nerve-wracking than the last. The curtains were drawn, the lights off. Her car sat in the driveway, but there was no sign of life. He’d even called Ivy, hoping she might have some answers, but her phone went straight to voicemail too.

“Damn it,” he hissed, leaning back in his chair. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Gemini and Ivy hadn’t been on speaking terms for weeks, but now both women were unreachable at the same time. Something was wrong. And he had no idea where next to look.

A knock at his door interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Carmelo sat up as the door opened to reveal a red-haired woman with a concerned expression. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

“Officer Hayes?” she asked.

“That’s me,” he said, studying her. He didn’t recognize her, but her anxious energy put him on edge.

“I’m Becky,” she introduced herself. “I need to file a report about my friend, Ivy Jones.”

Carmelo’s heart sank. “Take a seat,” he prodded, drawing out the chair opposite his desk for her.

Becky sat down, clasping her hands together tightly. “Ivy’s little girl, Zaia, came to my house for a slumber party with my daughter, Lyra, over the weekend. Ivy was supposed to pick her up on Sunday, but she never showed.”

“Never showed?” Carmelo repeated, as he grabbed a pen and a notepad.

Becky shook her head. “I tried taking Zaia back to her house, but the doors were locked, and it didn’t seem like anyone was home. I called Ivy’s phone, but it went straight to voicemail. I’ve tried every day since. Nothing.” Her voice cracked slightly as she added, “Zaia is still at my house. She keeps asking for her mom, and I don’t know what to tell her.”

“Jesus,” Carmelo muttered, running a hand over his face. Poor girl. “When did you say you last saw her?”

“Friday,” Becky answered. “That’s when she dropped Zaia off. She seemed fine—completely normal. But now…I’m not so sure.” She let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping. “My husband, Seth, pushed me to come here. He thinks that if Ivy still isn’t answering, something’s seriously wrong.” Becky leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, eyes wide with worry. “He’s even starting to say it might be…kidnapping.”

Carmelo shook his head grimly, his gut churning with worry. “We don’t know that yet, but you did the right thing coming in,” he told her. “I’ll make sure this gets priority. In the meantime, keep Zaia safe. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

Becky nodded, though her worry was evident. “Please find Ivy. Zaia needs her.”

“I will,” Carmelo promised, though the words felt hollow.

As Becky left, he sat back heavily in his chair, his mind racing. His chest felt tight, his breathing uneven. The crime rate in this town was starting to climb. Three women in total were now missing, two of them connected to him in some way. And then there was Rhea, the pregnant girl who’d turned up dead weeks, her body dumped in the woods, the case still unresolved. Surely this had to be some kind of coincidence.

Right?

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, slamming his fist against the desk.

The door opened again, and Officer Gable stepped inside. “You good, bro?” he asked, noticing his partner’s agitation.

Carmelo glanced up, his jaw clenched. “How can I be good? Gemini’s missing. Ivy’s missing. The Belair lady, too. Something’s happening in Hartford, and we’re not catching it fast enough.”

Gable frowned, sitting down across from him. “You think this is connected to that girl, Rhea?”

“I don’t know,” Carmelo admitted. “But it’s not random. Too many women are disappearing or turning up dead, and now it’s hitting close to home.”

Gable nodded slowly, his expression serious. “This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

“Damn fucking right it’s personal,” Carmelo snapped. “Gemini’s my girl. I’m not losing her.”

Gable hesitated before replying, “We’ll figure this out, Hayes. But you need to keep a clear head. If you get too close—”

“I don’t give a fuck how close I get,” Carmelo interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m gon’ find her, and I’m gonna figure out who’s behind this. Whoever they are, they’re not walking away from this.”

Gable didn’t argue, though his concern was evident. As the two officers sat in tense silence, the weight of the situation pressed down on them both. 

Hartford wasn’t safe anymore.

Her body throbbed with pain, every muscle screaming, every bone she owned weighed down by exhaustion. 

Ivy had no idea how long she’d been trapped in this nightmare. Days? Weeks? Time blurred into an endless abyss of suffering. There were no windows, no clocks—nothing to anchor her to reality. Only the suffocating darkness, the damp concrete walls, and the slow, agonizing creak of the heavy door whenever he came.

Roman.

No. Mateo Hobbs.

The air mattress he had given her to be sleeping on was a mockery of comfort. She was too drained to move, too hollowed out to cry, but sleep was impossible. Every time her eyes drifted shut, she saw him. Felt him.

Instead, she tried to think of Zaia.

Was she still at Becky’s house? Had Becky noticed something was wrong? Or had Roman dispatched Becky too before she could get the chance? 

The thought made Ivy sick.

Because she knew what he was capable of now.

She had learned the truth in the most horrifying way possible—his real name, his real face beneath the mask of charm and seduction. Mateo Hobbs. 

He wasn’t just a liar. He was a monster. He had slithered into her life, invaded her bed, whispered sweet words in her ear while his hands were already stained with the blood of the people she loved.

Angelo. The father of her child. Murdered. By him.

Gemini. Her best friend. Murdered. By him.

He had pretended to comfort Ivy when Angelo died, holding her close as she wept, whispering lies while the blood on his hands had barely dried. He had stroked her hair, murmured reassurances, all while knowing he was the reason Angelo was gone. And when she had sobbed in his kitchen over Gemini’s disappearance, wracked with guilt and fear, he had watched in silence—because he already knew Gemini wasn’t missing. She was dead, buried just feet below, her screams long since silenced by the same hands that caressed Ivy with twisted affection.

How many more had there been? How many innocent lives had he taken before he turned his sights on Ivy?

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms so hard it hurt. Every nerve in her body screamed for release—for something, anything, to make this torment stop. She wanted to tear him apart, to claw at her own skin until every trace of him was gone. But it wouldn’t matter. No matter how much she raged, no matter how deep she bled, she would still be here. Trapped, with escape slipping further and further out of reach.

Twice a day, he came.

Bringing food.

Bathing her like she was his doll.

And then violating her.

He treated her as if they were lovers, whispering sweet nothings against her skin, kissing her tenderly while he took what he wanted. Each time, he made sure she climaxed, as if that made it okay. As if that erased the horror, the utter disgust of every moment he touched her.

He fed her himself now, having stripped away any semblance of autonomy after her failed attempt to stab him with a spoon. There were no utensils anymore—just his hands, his dominance. He pressed the food against her lips, his grip unyielding. When she resisted, his patience thinned, fingers tightening at her jaw until she had no choice but to open her mouth. Chew. Swallow. Submit. His to control.

“You need to eat,” he said, voice low, as if he were speaking to a frightened animal.

And today, when she stirred from a restless, hollow sleep, she knew before she even opened her eyes that something was wrong.

She wasn’t alone.

A breath ghosted over her skin. The weight of a presence beside her, unmoving, watching.

Her eyes snapped open, her body jerking in terror.

Roman was lying next to her, propped on one elbow, studying her with quiet fascination.

“Morning, my love,” he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction.

Ivy’s stomach clenched with revulsion. She scrambled back, breath hitching, but there was nowhere to go. The wall pressed against her spine, cold and taunting.

He didn’t react to her fear. If anything, he looked amused.

Then he reached for her, his grip unrelenting as he pulled her up and guided her toward the small bathroom. She tried to push him away, her hands weak against his chest, but he barely noticed. He was so strong. Unshakable. No matter how much she resisted, he always won.

She didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

She was breaking.

He was breaking her.

The water ran warm, and he bathed her with careful, practiced hands. He touched her, dragging his fingers over her skin, washing her hair, his touch sickeningly tender. He acted as if she belonged to him, as if this was routine, as if she wanted this.

Ivy stared blankly at the tiled wall, emotionless, frozen beneath his hands.

When he was finished, he dried her off and dressed her. A neat pile of fresh clothes and underwear sat in a corner.

Her fresh clothes and underwear.

Meaning he had been inside her house. Again. 

Obviously he’d been there before. More than once. So he knew how to get in. Where to go.

But now, he was an uninvited guest, walking through her rooms. Opening her drawers. Touching her belongings. Breathing her in.

She felt violated all over again.

He hummed under his breath, brushing her hair with slow, gentle strokes. His fingers grazed her scalp, gentle, affectionate. A mockery of care.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, tilting her chin so their eyes met. “Just like you always do.”

Ivy wanted to shatter into a million pieces.

Then, he reached for a paper bag, pulling out a wrapped breakfast burrito.

Her stomach twisted violently.

“Bacon and scrambled eggs,” he said, his smile almost warm. “Just how you like it. Because you’ve been such a good girl.”

It made her sick how stupid she’d been. Allowing this man to learn these details about her through their time together—casually, effortlessly, during the months he had spent pretending to be the perfect man.

And now, he was using it against her.

Her throat burned with bile.

She couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t scream. Couldn’t fight.

So she sat in silence.

Trapped.

Hopeless.

Drowning in this unimaginable nightmare.

Officer Hayes stepped out of the squad car, his dark eyes scanning the modest suburban neighborhood through his Aviators as he adjusted his holster. It was a crisp, gray morning, the kind where clouds seemed heavy with the promise of rain. He glanced at Officer Gable, who shut his car door and motioned toward the house a few feet ahead. The house was pristine—sharp lines, expansive glass windows, and a driveway that looked like it had been freshly hosed down that morning.

“Finance guy, no priors,” Gable muttered, looking through his notes as they approached the door. “Don’t see how he’s involved in any of this.”

Hayes nodded, his face unreadable. “Maybe. We met him at Gem’s Halloween party, remember?”

“Yeah,” Gable said, frowning as he adjusted his badge. “Big Aquaman dude, long hair, quiet type. Nothing that raises any alarm bells.”

Hayes hesitated, the memory of that party resurfacing in his mind. Roman had been polite, almost overly so, but there had been a moment—just a flicker—when Hayes had noticed tension between him and Gemini. He’d dismissed it at the time, chalking it up to a personal disagreement, but now? With Gemini missing, that moment gnawed at him.

“Something felt… off,” Hayes admitted. “I didn’t think much of it then, but now I’m not so sure.”

Gable shrugged. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

Hayes rang the doorbell, the chime barely audible from the outside. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Roman. He was as imposing as Hayes remembered—tall, muscular and broad-shouldered. His dark hair was tied back neatly, and he wore a black sweater that clung to his huge frame and dark jeans that seemed effortlessly stylish.

Roman’s expression oozed with polite curiosity as he took in the two cops. “Officers,” he greeted, his deep voice smooth but carrying a hint of confusion. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

Carmelo offered a small nod, his tone calm but professional. “How’s it going, Roman? Sorry to drop by unannounced, but we need to ask you a few questions. Hope this isn’t a bad time.”

Roman tilted his head, his brows furrowing with what appeared to be genuine confusion. “Questions? What’s this about?”

“We’ll cut to the chase to avoid wasting time. When’s the last time you heard from Ivy?” Gable asked.

Roman’s face softened into concern as he exhaled deeply. Tiredly. “Ivy? The last time we spoke was a couple of days ago. She seemed…distant, distracted even. She told me she needed some space, so I didn’t push.”

His answer rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, his tone smooth and sincere.

“Well,” Gable said, his gaze sharp, “no one can seem to find her or reach her. She and Gemini are both missing.”

Roman’s brows shot up, his expression shifting seamlessly to shock. “Missing?” he repeated, his voice low and steady. “Hold up…That…that doesn’t make any sense. I mean, Ivy’s been under a lot of pressure, but Gemini too? I—this is the first I’m hearing of it.” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as if he were processing the news. He shook his head, his voice filled with what sounded like genuine worry.

“When was the last time you saw them both?” Hayes asked, watching Roman closely.

Roman exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. “Ivy was a few days ago. She’s been under a lot of stress. She hasn’t really been the same since Angelo’s death, it’s been so hard for her. And Gemini…I haven’t seen her since last week.” He paused, his gaze lowering. “God, this is awful. I care about both of them. What can I do to help?”

Hayes exchanged a glance with Gable before pressing further. “Speaking of Angelo, we heard you and he had some disagreements before his death.”

Roman looked up sharply, his expression briefly guarded before softening into something more regretful. “Angelo and I… yes, we had a disagreement. Just one. It was stupid, really, a misunderstanding. We hashed it out the next day, and that was that.” He sighed deeply, his tone lowering. “He was a good man, and what happened to him was tragic. A car accident…it still doesn’t feel real.”

Hayes studied Roman’s face, his smooth answers and calm demeanor making it difficult to gauge anything beyond what the man wanted them to see.

“Angelo was a great dad,” Roman continued, his voice thick with emotion. “Zaia adored him. This must be so hard on her. Where is she?”

The question came out casually enough, but something in the way Roman asked it made Carmelo pause.

“She’s safe,” he informed, his instincts urging him to keep it vague.

Roman nodded slowly, though his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. “That’s good. She’s a sweet kid. I’d hate for her to be caught up in all of this. If it helps, I’d be happy to take her in while you figure things out. She knows me; I can keep her comfortable.”

His voice was calm, measured, but Hayes detected the faintest hint of desperation beneath the surface. Roman’s mask was flawless, but something about the offer didn’t sit right.

“That won’t be necessary,” Hayes said evenly. “We’ll make sure Zaia’s taken care of.”

Roman gave a tight-lipped smile, his eyes lingering on Hayes for a moment longer than was comfortable. “Of course. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

Gable nodded, stepping back slightly. “We’ll keep you in the loop.”

Roman watched them retreat, his expression unreadable. “Thank you, officers. Be safe out there.”

As the door closed, Hayes felt a wave of unease settle over him. Gable glanced at him as they walked back to the car.

“Well, he’s convincing,” Gable said.

Hayes didn’t respond immediately. He glanced back at the house, his instincts buzzing. Roman’s answers had been smooth—too smooth.

“Yeah,” Hayes muttered, sliding into the car. “Maybe a little too convincing.”

As they pulled away, Hayes couldn’t shake the feeling that Roman knew far more than he was letting on. But he had no proof.

Over the days, Roman spoke to Ivy with a chilling casualness, recounting his killing sprees as if reliving fond memories. Antonia. Elesha. The two murders in Hartford’s  neighboring counties. Rhea. Bianca. Each name was another knot in Ivy’s stomach, another weight pressing against her lungs.

He pointed at the second barrel beside the one he had stuffed Gemini into. “That’s where Bianca is,” he said, his voice devoid of remorse. “I killed her because I could.”

A silent sob wracked Ivy’s body, hot tears streaking down her face. He had no reason. No twisted justification. Just power—the pleasure of taking a life simply because it was his to take.

But she was starting to see the pattern. The obsession. Roman needed control over the women in his life. He demanded devotion, compliance. When he felt disrespected, when they defied him, he ended them. And then, he moved on to the next.

“Those bitches got what was coming to them,” he muttered, referring to Antonia and Elesha, his voice as steady as if he were discussing the weather. “I moved heaven and earth for them, and still, they decided it wasn’t enough.” He smiled. “But it’s all good. I got you now.”

Ivy swallowed the bile rising in her throat.

It always came back to betrayal for him. He had been cheated on. Lied to. Abandoned. From his mother, who picked the lifestyle of a mob boss’ wife over nurturing her son, to Antonia, who left him for her college professor. And Elesha…his wife, the woman he had vowed to cherish, had been carrying another man’s child. His own cousin’s child.

Everything she heard made her physically ill.

He spoke of the future as if it were inevitable, as if she had a choice. “Once everything settles down, once them cops get off my back, I’m taking you out of this town,” he murmured one night, his fingers brushing damp strands of hair from her face with eerie tenderness. “We’ll go somewhere far away, somewhere quiet. Where no one can find us.”

Oh god.

“But what about Zaia?” Her voice cracked. “I need my baby, Roman. Please.”

Roman didn’t hesitate. “She’ll come with us, of course,” he said smoothly, “Once I convince those two idiot cops that I can take her.”

Desperation clawed at her chest, her mind a whirl of frantic thoughts. She couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let Roman get his hands on her baby. Couldn’t let Roman take both of them away. But what could she do now that she was stuck here?

One evening, he entered the room, the scent of warm food trailing behind him like a ghost of normalcy. But there was something off—something in the way he moved, the unsettling lightness in his step. Ivy tensed, her unease sharpening as he set the food in front of her, his gaze locked onto hers, unblinking. Then, gently, deliberately, his hand dipped into his pocket. 

The air seemed to thin as he withdrew a small velvet box. Ivy’s breath caught and not in the romantic way, her stomach twisting into a tight, suffocating knot. Roman flipped open the box, the diamond ring catching the dim light like a cruel joke.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment since I first met you,” he murmured, his deep voice rich with certainty. “We belong together, Ivy. I want you to marry me.”

The walls seemed to close in, pressing in on her. Her pulse hammered in her ears as her gaze locked onto the ring. 

“Where did you get this?” she whispered.

Roman tilted his head, studying her reaction. Then, with a slow, sly smirk, he said, “It was Elesha’s.”

The words hit her like a blow.

He let the silence stretch before adding, almost casually, “I pried it off her fingers after she died.”

He had kept it. All this time. After he killed her.

Revulsion burned through her like acid. Her vision blurred, a red haze creeping in at the edges.

“What—” Her voice broke, strangled with horror. “What is wrong with you?”

Roman watched her, calm as ever. Like this was nothing. Like he hadn’t just confessed to something monstrous.

Her entire body trembled. The walls felt like they were closing in. The ring—the proof of his cruelty—gleamed in its velvet jail, a sickening symbol of everything she wanted to escape.

“I can’t marry you,” she choked out, shaking her head. “I won’t.”

Roman stilled. Blinked, as if processing an impossible concept. The warmth in his eyes flickered out like a candle snuffed by the wind.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, stepping toward her.

She lurched back, chest heaving. Her voice cracked, raw and ragged. “Yes, I do! You—you killed her! You kept her ring like some kind of trophy, and you expect me to wear it?” 

Roman exhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the box before he snapped it shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the suffocating silence.

“Ivy,” he said, voice low, warning. “You need to calm down.”

She let out a hysterical laugh, hands shaking as she raked them through her hair. “Calm down? You’re insane!”

His jaw clenched. “I love you.”

She shook her head, chest burning with fear, anger—despair. “No! You don’t know what love is! I’m sorry, but I’m not marrying you. Period.”

Something flashed in his eyes—something dangerous. Then, his jaw tensed, his fingers tightening around the box. His eyes turned cold, lethal.

The transformation was terrifying.

His voice dropped into a low, guttural snarl.

“If I can’t have you…then no one else will.”

Before she could comprehend what was happening, Roman grabbed her, dragging her to the far corner of the room. Her heart sank as she realized he was taking her to the trapdoor, the heavy metal latch gleaming ominously.

“Roman, no!” she cried, her voice raw with terror. She clawed at his arms, kicked her legs, anything to break free, but he was too strong.

He yanked the door open with a deafening creak, revealing the gaping black pit beneath, where Gemini had laid dead. Ivy’s blood turned to ice.

“No! Please!” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “Don’t put me in there! I’ll do whatever you want! Just don’t—”

Her words were cut off as Roman shoved her forward. She screamed, her nails scraping against the edge of the trapdoor as she tried to stop herself, but it was no use. She fell, hard, her scream piercing the air as she tumbled into the darkness.

Roman slammed the trapdoor shut, her cries muffled but still audible through the thick metal. He stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as he stared at the closed door.

Then, without a second glance, he turned and walked out of the basement, Ivy’s screams fading behind him.

The search for Ivy and Gemini had consumed the town. Days had passed since they were declared missing, and the air had become thick with desperation. Everywhere you turned, there were posters of their faces—on lampposts, in store windows, on every corner of the neighborhood. The words MISSING screamed in bold red ink, and beneath them, the faces of two women who had been loved by the entire community. It was all hands on deck now: the local Neighborhood Watch, volunteers, and the police were combing through every lead, no matter how small. Still, no trace. No sign. Nothing.

Officer Gable walked into Carmelo’s office with a grim expression, holding a manila folder in one hand, his other hand pressed against his forehead as if trying to hold back the weight of the investigation.

“Anything?” Carmelo asked, glancing up from the pile of papers on his desk. His eyes were bloodshot from sleepless nights.

Gable dropped the folder onto the desk with a heavy sigh. “We’re running out of places to look, but we’ve got more volunteers. The whole town’s on it. People are offering tips, though some are…fucking useless.”

Carmelo rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion evident in his every movement. He leaned back in his chair. “Any solid leads?”

Before Gable could respond, the door to his office opened, and in walked Becky and her husband Seth. Both of them looked like they hadn’t slept in days, their faces drawn with worry. Holding Becky’s hand was Zaia, whose tear-streaked face registered the chaos that had plagued her young life.

Zaia’s sniffle shattered the heavy silence, her small voice trembling. “Where’s Mama?” Her wide, confused eyes darted around the office, searching, desperate, as if expecting Ivy to walk through the door at any second. “Is Mama here?”

Becky knelt beside her, tucking a stray curl behind Zaia’s ear, though her hands were shaking. “Sweetheart, we’re looking for her, okay? We’re gonna find her.” She forced a smile, but her voice wavered, betraying the fear she was trying so hard to hide. “She’s gonna be alright.”

Zaia swallowed hard, blinking up at Becky. “And Duchess?” she whispered. “Mama said she’d pick her up from the groomer.”

Becky’s breath caught. She glanced at Seth, whose jaw clenched as he looked away.

Carmelo stepped forward, his expression carefully measured. He had seen this before—too many times. A child clinging to hope that might not exist. “Thank you for bringing her,” he murmured to the couple before crouching down to Zaia’s level, his voice turning soft. “Hey, sweetie. You wanna take a seat? I just wanna ask you a few questions, okay?”

Zaia hesitated before climbing onto the chair, swinging her legs slightly. Carmelo exhaled, steadying himself. “Zaia, do you remember the last time you saw your mama?”

A slow nod. Her bottom lip quivered, and she clutched the hem of her t-shirt. “She took me to Lyra’s house for our slumber party.”

Carmelo nodded. “Okay…Do you remember anything else about that day? Did you see anyone you didn’t know that could have been following you?”

Zaia sniffled again, her voice growing even smaller. “I remember…Roman was with us.” 

“Roman? Your neighbor?” Gable prodded gently.

Zaia nodded. “He’s Mama’s boyfriend. He drove us to Lyra’s house.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I like Roman. He buys me toys. But…” Her fingers curled into the fabric of her t-shirt, gripping tight. “He yelled at me.”

Carmelo exchanged a glance with Gable, something unspoken passing between them. A shift. A new crack in the picture. And this one? It felt important.

“He yelled at you? Why did he yell? What happened?” asked Carmelo.

Zaia hesitated, looking down at her shoes. “I was playing my music, but I kept playing the same song over and over. He didn’t like it. He got real mad. Told me to shut it off.” Her eyes filled with tears again, her voice small and unsure. “I didn’t like it. It made me upset.”

Carmelo exchanged a quick glance with Gable. There was something cold about Roman’s behavior. That wasn’t just yelling. That was control.

Hayes knelt in front of Zaia, his voice gentle but stern. “Zaia, I want you to listen to me. No one’s gonna yell at you again, okay?”

Zaia nodded, though the sadness in her eyes was still there. Then, in a voice so small it nearly broke all their hearts, she murmured, “I just want my Mama…and Duchess.” Her lip quivered. “I wanna go home. Can we go home? Maybe they’re back.”

Carmelo placed a gentle hand on her small shoulder. “You might be right. Ya know what? I will take you home. Hopefully she’s returned, just like you said. Is that okay?”

Zaia nodded eagerly, hope brimming in her eyes.

Becky looked to Carmelo, uncertainty swimming in hers. “Are you sure? Can you…can you make sure she’s safe?”

Carmelo nodded, his expression hardening. “I’ll make sure. I won’t let anything happen to her. I’ll take Gable with me. If we get there and she hasn’t returned, we’ll bring her right back to yours.” He gave a small, reassuring smile as he crouched beside Zaia. “We’ll bring her back. I promise.”

When Becky and Seth left, Carmelo pulled Gable aside, his jaw set with determination. “We’re checking Ivy’s house again. Top to bottom. Then, Reigns’ place.” His eyes darkened, his voice edged with certainty. “That guy is bullshittin’ us. I can feel it.”

The dark had weight. It pressed against her skin, thick and cloying, seeping into her lungs like smoke. There was no beginning, no end—just the pit, just the silence, just the endless, gnawing void.

She’d stopped counting the hours. Time wasn’t real down here. Only hunger, only cold, only the bruises blooming along her limbs from when he threw her down and locked the world away. She had lost count of the minutes, the silence pressing in on her like a living thing. Roman had thrown her down here like she was nothing, like she was his to punish. And for what? Because she wouldn’t marry him? Because she wouldn’t legitimize his sexual violence?

The whispers began.

At first, they were soft, curling around the edges of her consciousness like a song half-remembered. They spoke in fragments—slippery syllables, broken thoughts.

Then they grew bolder.

They spoke Zaia’s name.

Whispers in the dark, so faint she almost missed it.

She pressed a trembling hand to her ears. No, no, this wasn’t real. Just exhaustion. Fear and loneliness stretching itself thin.

But then—

Zaia…

Her daughter’s name, floating up from the depths, whispered with the same gentle cadence Ivy used when tucking her in at night.

She swallowed hard, squeezing her eyes shut. This was the trap. This was how the dark got inside you—by making you believe.

But the dark was patient. It slithered into her bones, weaving its way into the fabric of her mind. She felt it shifting in the walls, crawling beneath her skin, threading itself through the marrow of her ribs.

She started muttering to herself, rocking slightly, her voice hoarse and uneven. Zaia. Zaia. Her baby, her anchor. If she said it enough, maybe she wouldn’t lose herself to madness.

Maybe.

The walls whispered—no, breathed—around her. Shapes slithered in the black, shifting in the corners of her vision. Shadows with no bodies. Voices with no mouths.

Then, suddenly—light.

Ivy gasped, her eyes flying open as the trapdoor groaned above, spilling a blinding light into her prison. The sharp contrast burned, sending white-hot pain lancing through her skull. She flinched, but her body barely moved, too weak, too stiff.

And then he was there. A figure in the light, his shadow swallowing her whole. Roman. She blinked, but he didn’t change. He loomed above like an eclipse, food in tow.

Her gaze drifted up to him, unfocused. Wide, hollow eyes stared at something only she could see. The ghosts that had kept her company in the pitch darkness.

She flinched when he reached for her, but didn’t resist as he dragged her out of the pit, her limbs limp and useless. The world tilted, and suddenly she was back on the mattress. A flash of panic engulfed her, praying he wouldn’t touch her this time.

Roman remained silent, choosing to stand there quietly and observe her, jaw clenched as he set the tray of food between them. “You should eat.”

Ivy said nothing, merely drew her knees to her chest and slowly rocked herself back and forth.

Roman dipped a piece of bread into the thick bowl of soup, swirling it around. “So…have you had time to think about my proposal?” he said.

She tilted her head at him. Slow. Mechanical. Then—

A sharp, breathless laugh.

Roman’s expression hardened. “Ivy?”

She didn’t answer. Just lifted a hand, her index finger tracing something unseen in the air.

“The walls are breathing,” she murmured. “Did you notice?”

A pause. Then, softly,

“They don’t like you.”

His eyes narrowed. Suspicion. “What are you doing?”

“Listening to the voices, silly.” Ivy shifted, her body folding in on itself, arms wrapped tight like she was holding herself together. “They don’t like me either, but you? Ooh, they hate your guts, homie.”

Silence.

She let it stretch. Let it coil between them like a living thing. Then, she shivered, rubbing her arms, fingers twitching like she could feel something crawling beneath her skin.

“They move in the dark,” she whispered. “I hear them when I’m sleep. You shouldn’t have put me in there, Roman. Now I’ll never be free of them.”

Roman exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. Frustration. But underneath it—hesitation. 

He chose not to feed her this time, leaving her and walking out of the basement to fend for herself.

By evening time, she was singing.

Soft melodies, eerie and wordless, weaving through the dark, cold basement like something ancient, something wrong. Sometimes she hummed lullabies, sometimes she whispered nonsense, with Zaia’s name woven between.

Roman ignored her, continued his routine with her, seemingly unfazed.

The next day, she was clawing at the walls, nails dragging slow, deliberate lines through the concrete ground.

Roman watched her, the concern starting to emerge, lining his sharp features.

She gasped—sharp, wild—and her eyes locked onto his with something close to delight.

“They’re in the walls,” she whispered, pointing. “I feel them.”

His breath hitched. Just for a second.

Her grin was wide and content.

Later that night, when he showed up to take her, Ivy was laid in the fetal position, her back to him.

Roman sighed heavily and stood over her. “Ivy! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Rolling into a seated position, she blinked up at him. 

Then, out of nowhere, she sobbed.

Guttural. Anguished.

Loud. 

She collapsed against him.

Fingers clutching his shirt, burying her face against his chest, body trembling like something fragile, something broken.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her soft voice fractured, splintered at the edges. “I can’t…they won’t let me sleep…I can’t—I can’t—”

She looked up at him, tear-streaked eyes wide, pleading. “Please stay with me. Please, baby. Just for one night. Stay with me. Don’t leave me alone again.”

Visibly taken aback, his hands hovered. Then, slowly—hesitantly—he gripped her shoulders. Just for a moment.

“Try to get some sleep,” he muttered. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Another morning, another sign that Ivy was having a breakdown.

This time, when Roman appeared in the basement, there was utter silence from her. Not a word, not a sound. Just her, lying on the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Roman set the tray of food down carefully, the way someone might lay an offering before an altar. A steaming bowl of chicken soup. 

Ivy didn’t move. She just stared.

Roman sighed, raking a hand through his long hair. There was something else in his eyes today; something softer, vulnerable.

“You must be hungry.”

Again. Silence. Then, her breath caught, her lips parting. 

“You threw me in that pit like I was nothing.”

Roman didn’t respond.

Ivy let out another shuddering exhale. Her fingers curled inward, like she was afraid to touch the bowl, like she thought it would vanish.

Her voice broke. “You hate me, don’t you?”

A flicker in his eyes. Guilt? “You know that’s not true,” he murmured.

Ivy let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Liar.”

Her fingers skimmed the edge of the tray, staring at it as though deep in thought.

“Roman…” Her voice was smaller now, softer. Frightened. “I…” Her throat tightened, and then she laughed again. Quiet. Fractured. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

She watched the way his shoulders tensed, the way his eyes searched hers.

“You need to eat,” he said.

Ivy looked away, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him. 

Settling down quietly beside her, Roman’s hands rested on his thighs as he studied her for a long moment. “I’m sorry I put you in there,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of disheveled hair behind her ear. “I did it because I love you, Ivy. I just needed you to understand, to see sense.”

She exhaled shakily, allowing herself to tremble under his touch. “I was scared…at first,” she whispered, eyes welling with tears as she leaned closer to him. “But now that I’ve had time to think, I—maybe I understand now.”

His gaze darkened, but the doubt still lingered in his eyes. He felt her breath against his lips before she kissed him—slowly, hungrily. He felt her melt into him, felt her surrender, her fingers cupping his jaw to hold him close as their mouths moved together. And for a moment, just a moment, all felt right with the world again.

Then, she pulled away. Just a fraction. Just enough to whisper, “I think I’m hungry now.”

Roman nodded, placing the tray in her lap. The steam curled up between them as she wrapped her fingers around the warm ceramic bowl. She lifted it toward her lips, breathing in the rich scent.

Then, in one swift motion, she hurled the scalding soup into his face.

Roman roared, staggering back, hands flying to his burning skin. She didn’t hesitate—she smashed the bowl against his head, the ceramic shattering on impact. It knocked him off the mattress with a groan, dazed. He was still moving, still too strong, so she grabbed the tray and swung it with all the strength she had left.

The metal cracked against his skull.

He went down. Collapsed like a rag doll. His huge body going stock-still.

For a horrifying second, Ivy just stared at his unmoving body, chest heaving. Then survival instincts kicked in. She dropped to her knees, hands shaking as she frantically searched his pockets. He always kept the keys on him—she had watched him, studied him, memorized the little habits that he thought went unnoticed.

Her fingers found the cool metal. Heard the faint jangle.

Yes!

She limped towards the basement door as fast as her bare feet could carry her, forcing the key into the lock with clumsy, trembling hands. The mechanism clicked, and she wrenched it open, stumbling up the stairs. Her bare feet barely registered the pain as she reached the second door, fumbling with the lock.

“Come on,” she breathed, turning the key desperately.

The lock gave.

She shoved the door open and sprinted out of the basement, breathing in the air of his home. She knew she wasn’t safe yet. Not until she had Duchess.

Duchess.

Panic seized her chest. Where could she be?

Almost on cue, a faint whimper reached her ears, and she turned toward the sound, dread curling in her stomach.

The laundry room.

She ran, bursting into the small space and nearly sobbing when she saw the kennel tucked in the corner. Duchess was inside, her tiny body unnaturally still, a muzzle strapped around her snout to silence her cries. But the second she laid eyes on Ivy, the whimpering turned frantic.

“I’m here,” Ivy gasped, falling to her knees and wrestling with the latch. “I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

The moment the latch opened, Duchess tumbled into her arms, barely able to stand on her own. Quickly relieving the puppy of the muzzle, Ivy cradled her close, pressing kisses to the soft fur on her head.

“I’m getting us out of here,” she swore, holding Duchess protectively as she staggered toward the front door, her heart hammering.

The police cruiser sped down the quiet street, its tires humming against the asphalt. In the back seat, Zaia pressed her small hands against the window, wide eyes scanning the darkness, hoping—praying—to see her mother. Every shadow, every movement made her heart lurch.

In the front, Carmelo’s phone vibrated against the dashboard. Without missing a beat, Gable snatched it up, glancing at the screen.

"FaceTime," Gable muttered. "The number’s from Florida."

Carmelo frowned. "Answer it."

Gable swiped the screen, and the call connected. A sharp-jawed man with piercing blue eyes appeared on the display. 

"Officer Hayes?" His tone was clipped, urgent, with an edge to it. "I’m Detective Cody Rhodes from Orlando PD. You don’t know me, but I know what’s been happening in your town."

Carmelo tightened his grip on the wheel. "The hell is this about?"

Cody exhaled sharply. "I need your help. I’ve been tracking a man—Mateo Hobbs—for over a year now. He’s responsible for multiple murders and disappearances down south. And I just found out he's in your neck of the woods, Hartford."

Gable shot a glance at Carmelo. "Never heard of him."

"You have," Cody corrected. He angled his phone, showing a grainy photo of a man with long, dark hair, piercing eyes, and a sharp, calculating expression. "You know him as Roman Reigns."

The car went dead silent.

From the back seat, Zaia let out a small gasp. "Officer, that’s Roman!"

A chill slithered down Carmelo’s spine. He felt his pulse hammer in his throat as he exchanged a look with Gable.

"Son of a bitch," Gable gaped. “It is Reigns!”

Cody continued, his voice edged with urgency. "Me and my partner, Lieutenant Cargill, just landed in Hartford. You’re gonna need backup before you move in on him. He’s dangerous as hell, and if the woman you’re looking for was taken by him, she’s in immediate danger."

Carmelo’s jaw locked. There was no doubt in his mind now—Roman had everything to do with Ivy’s disappearance. Maybe Gemini’s, too.

"We’re headed there already," he said firmly. "There’s no time to waste. We’ll send you the location. Meet us there."

“Wait! Hayes, don’t—”

Gable hung up abruptly, and Carmelo slammed his foot on the gas. The cruiser lurched forward, sirens off, the tires screeching as the cop’s mind raced. It was more and more evident that they were about to step into the heart of something far darker than they’d imagined.

As they reached Roman’s house, Carmelo slowed the car, his mind sharpening into focus. He looked over his shoulder at Zaia, who was still staring out the window. 

“Zaia, stay in the car, okay? Don’t move unless I tell you to,” Carmelo said gently, his voice full of a calm he didn’t feel.

Zaia nodded, though the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

Gable was already out of the car, his gun drawn, his movements sharp and precise. Carmelo followed suit, every muscle in his body taut with readiness. The air simmered with tension as they moved toward the house. They weren’t just confronting some local thug. For all intents and purposes, they were dealing with a predator.

As they neared his front yard, the door swung open.

Ivy staggered out, clutching Duchess tightly to her chest. She looked ragged, her hair disheveled, her face drawn and bruised, eyes wild with desperation. Her breath expelled in short, frantic gasps as her eyes darted wildly around the street. 

Then she saw Hayes and Gable.

But even more importantly, across the street, inside the police cruiser, was her daughter.

Her baby.

Her little face, pressed against the window, wide-eyed and terrified, her tiny hands splayed against the glass.

"Zaia?!" Ivy screamed, her voice ripping from her throat like it was torn from her very soul. "Baby!"

Zaia’s eyes snapped to her, her face lighting up with unbridled excitement. Without thinking, she fumbled with the door handle, trying to push it open.

“Mama!”

Carmelo’s heart slammed in his chest. “Zaia! Wait!”

Zaia bolted out of the back seat, running toward her mother. "Mama!"

Desperation surged through Ivy like a tidal wave. Her feet stumbled forward, every instinct in her body commanding her to run. To reach her baby. To wrap her arms around her and never let go.

"Zaia, no!" Carmelo lunged forward, grabbing her just in time.

At the same time, Gable rushed toward Ivy and Duchess. "Come on, we got you—"

A gunshot split the air.

A sickening crack rang out as the bullet ripped through Gable’s skull. Blood and brain matter splattered the green grass below. His body went limp, crumpling on Roman’s front lawn.

Ivy let out a piercing scream.

Behind her, Roman stood, gun raised, eyes wild. The side of his head was dripping with blood from where Ivy had struck him, but he didn’t seem to care. His breath was ragged, unhinged. He looked deranged.

Carmelo’s stomach dropped.

"Fuck," he hissed, yanking Zaia against him, shielding her small frame with his body.

Roman didn’t hesitate. He fired again, bullet after bullet.

Carmelo ducked, his arms tightening around Zaia as he carried her behind the police car. "Shots fired, officer down!" he roared into his radio. "We need backup now!"

"Zaia!" Ivy barely had time to take another step before Roman’s huge bicep wrapped around her throat, constricting her airflow. She fought against his grip, kicking, gasping for air. But Roman didn’t let go. He yanked her back across his yard, ignoring the pain of her fingers desperately clawing at his grip.

“Mama!” a despondent Zaia wailed, struggling in Carmelo’s arms. “Let me go, I have to help her! Mamaaaa!”

In all of the chaos, Ivy managed one final act of defiance—she released Duchess. The injured puppy stumbled to the ground, whimpering as she limped down the yard, across the street, moving toward Zaia before collapsing into the little girl’s lap.

“Get your ass inside! Now!” Roman’s voice was wild, manic. He dragged Ivy through the door, slamming it behind him with a force that rattled the house. Inside, he shoved her to the floor of the foyer. She hit the ground hard, her body numbing with shock.

“You fucking monster,” she spat, “you psycho!”

Roman wiped the blood from his face, breathing heavily, his countenance even more unstable. He spun around and trudged through his house, bolting every possible entryway, locking it all down and sealing them inside, as if preparing for a siege. 

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you," he muttered when he was finished, shaking his head. "Well played, baby girl. Well played."

Ivy stared up at him in horror as he stepped back, chest rising and falling erratically. Then he gave a slow, twisted smile.

The next words he uttered sent Ivy’s heart plummeting into the abyss.

"Fine," he said, his voice was a deranged whisper. "Ya know what? Fuck it. I’ll push the ‘wedding’ forward. We’re getting married right now."

2 chapters to go.

Your comments and reblogs are so much appreciated! Please keep your Asks coming, we’re loving all the theories!

Please remember that this is FICTION and nothing more. Thank you so much for understanding!

🏷️: @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @vebner37 @thewarlordsworld

@dreamsinfocus @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @jeyusos-girl @iguessilikewrestlingnow

@purplehairgawdess @mohawkmama @po3ticb3auty @alyyaanna @murrylove @tribalhoochie @wrestlingprincess80

@papireigns-05 @vintage-pvssy @bebesobrielo @urasunflower @unfriendly–blvck–hottie

@theninthwonder @tabletheofhead @venusesworld @ariieeesworld @sassginaswanmills

@theglamclosetsl @empressdede @woahdude9481 @browngalmal @crxssjae

@twocentuar @surdelcielo @althegreat33 @alichesmi @eclectic-tee

@joannasteez @whatdoeseverybodywant @puppetmastermya @caramelcleopatraa @femdisa

@megamindsecretlair @headoftheetable @brwnsugababe @heauxvibez @christinabae @potatosackk

@raya-hunter01 @lilucey @aisharmi @neverlookatthisblog @dayaimonee @nayys-world

@kianaleani @digidestned @marasdeathnote @msbluehaz3 @hunnidmilly

@worldwidehoodrat @ariiaeltheedonn @wanderingreigns @sisinever @jaza23

@wrestlingbaby @amandairene88 @romanreignsbae @li-da-savage @thickbihhwitdagapp

@cry1nwhileimcumm1n @2-muchsauce @usoholic @dontcomplicateit @rihanna0607

@jimingotthajams @happy-princes @nymphobabyyx @authenticallymisfitted @sageispunk

@bxrbie1 @octaviastargirl @skyesthebomb @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @blueki16

@slutouttanowhere @zabwlky1999 @ayeeitsali @shamaness1171 @mainlyy-danae @mzv11

@misslackey @sayyestoheav3nn @dyttomori @dyttomori02 @kat3457

@zillasvilla @smile1318 @prettyfilmz @trippinsorrows @romansthrone

@wwecrazed2010 @xbriexx @ashyknee @katrinnnn @thedondada05 @luvrsluxe

@shes2real @aldrigmer444 @rose-bliss @jxtina-86 @that-one-anxious-mango

@fearlesschimera @kuromiish @vampygomez @tshepisho @magnificentbouquetmusic @4milly

@disc0fairy @prettybitxhnica @mellybandzz @blveeeeeee @taytropicana @planetch1ld @mayasopinions @tribalchief2112 

@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @callmekayd @partypoison00 @originalgeezyy @muzaqueendom @naturally-nikkilynn

[harleehazbinfics]

OMGOMGOMGOMG HOW WOULD CHIEF CANNIBAL READER X ALASTOR REACT TO CHARLIE DAD COMING TO THE HOTEL

Love Rival??

A/N: POLLING IT RN, ARE WE MAKING THEM THE OFFICIAL RIVALS??? AND ALSO DO WE DESERVE A KISS? CUZ THIS CHAPTER IS THE CLOSEST WE WILL EVER GET TO INTIMACY

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

The day finally came when Lucifer, Charlie's dad, would come to the hotel. So, out of consideration for your friend, you hosted a dinner party to leave a good impression on Hell's King himself.

So, you busied yourself in the kitchen for the past hour trying to whip up as much and as fast as you could, given the limited time you had been offered.

Everyone was gathered as they would on any regular day since you had started preparing breakfast. However, today they brought a little bit of... class~. They wore their best outfits seeing how special this event started to be and wore suits and dresses to dinner.

After everyone was present and settled themselves down. You appear before them donned in your chef's uniform, an apron wrapped around your waist stained with sauces and your hair curled, tied into a bun inside a hairnet. You introduce each dish that was placed down in front of them by Alastor's shadow puppets.

"Ooh! This pasta are incredible! Compliments to the chef!" Lucifer exclaims lifting his head and grinning at you.

"Oh, thank you!" you replied while gave him a polite smile and nodded your head.

While you we were wiping Niffty's face that was covered in the ragu with a napkin. Lucifer turns to Charlie and says, "Say, do you always eat together like this? I wouldn't mind staying here if that were the case."

While he was laughing at his own jest. Alastor, who sat opposite of him, glared at him not even being subtle about it. "It's a shame that his majesty has so many important matters to deal with. He hasn't even come to see how his daughter was in a while and finds his only reason to stay is through my companion's cooking," Alastor jabs at him while delicately cutting the meat on his plate that you especially made for him.

Lucifer splutters nervously as he aggressively denies the deer's claims. Lucifer watches as you approach Alastor's side and pour him his drink, seeing your heart shaped manic eyes ogling him while Alastor exuded a softer aura around him.

"Hohoho," Lucifer laughs in revelation before raising his own glass, "Uh, chef dear? Could you also pour me a drink?"

You raise eyes towards him, eyes turning normal before giving him another smile before coming over to his side. Lucifer gives Alastor a smug grin as you poured him the wine and sees how Alastor narrows his eyes at the blonde, as if asking him what the hell he was doing.

"So, you uh.. you made all of this by yourself?" Lucifer trying to start a conversation with you and keep your eyes off Alastor.

"Why, yes! Given I only had an hour to prepare, this is the least I could do," you reply with a small smile.

You didn't find it odd that much that this very important person was talking to you so candidly. You didn't really mind that much given how well he complimented your cooking so, all of his antics flew passed you head as he continued conversing with you.

By the time Lucifer decided to go home, you all gathered at the door to send him off. After he gives Charlie one last hug, he steps closer to you. All of you were confused at his actions especially what happens next.

"I'm sorry for my sudden intrusion then. I'd love to try you cooking some other time," he says with a flirtatious smile after he kisses the back of your hand.

Your eyes widen open as Alastor's ears peel back while giving the blonde a snarl. After he disappears, Alastor wipes the back of you hand on his coat and takes you to his quarters to get rid of the outrageous' sent off of you.

While in the bath as he scrubbed you down without batting an eye at your naked form. He takes the stained hand of yours and bites down on it with his sharp fangs deeply causing it to bleed.

"You belong to me. Got it?"

🔗TAGLIST:

@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part one

summary : 3 sisters for 3 brothers....right? Azriel believes wholeheartedly that Elain should be his mate and in doing so ignores his deep feelings for you.

🧚‍♀️

a/n : I haven't written in like 6 years since my draco malfoy and kpop fanfictions HAHA so please forgive me I am rusty!! Also I wrote this on my phone eeee

but finally eee I'm so excited to post my first writing on tumblr !! I was always a quotev and wattpad girly but here I am finally... 💗

just writing some rough short stories rn but I'll def write more as I get more comfortable again and into the rhythm! let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

ps: it's not proof read cuz I'm lazy I'm so sorry so please ignore mistakes dearies

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You watched as Azriel bent down to whisper something into Elains ear and you felt a growl beginning to build up in your throat.

You didn't know the mating bond did this ; make one so possessive and jealous that the half-moon nail marks on your palms had become blood red, from gripping your fists too strongly.

"I just don't understand why you can't tell him," a voice whispers next to you. You turn to acknowledge Mor, as she slips in next to you into the booth.

"Because the moment I do, this whole dynamic changes Mor," you whisper back, indicating to the sprawl of people around you.

You guys had come to Rita's once again, to party, drink, kiss and do other nonsense things Cassian had eagerly talked about, whilst pitching the idea to the group. It had started off fun, with everyone talking together but as the night had progressed, they had all paired off. You could see Feyre and Rhys making out in the corner of your eyes and Nesta and Cassian dancing around each other on the club floor. Elain and Azriel had also innocently gotten up and moved to another table, using a range of excuses you hadn't bothered to process.

Even Mor had a female making eyes at her from afar.

"Then change the dynamic, Y/N. I need some excitement in my life," she whispered furiously again and slid out, stalking to the female at the bar.

Groaning you sunk into the booth, left alone to your thoughts plagued by one thing only, Azriel.

The repetitive music slowly faded out, as you downed drink after drink, watching the others around you mingle and grind away into the depths of the night. They would come past your table and say a few words before being dragged away again.

But not once did he come. Not once did he even look in your direction... and it infuriated you.

"You look more miserable than me,"

You blinked, looking up to focus in on the flop of red hair, braids and whizzing metallic eye and a handsome jawline.

"Lucien!!!" you let out a whine, attempting to get up but falling back down in the process, not having realised how much strong alcohol you had consumed in the last hour.

"Woah there stargirl," he slipped in next to you, using the nickname only he used for you.

Lucien and you had met on Starfall, as you had been leaning on the balcony, apparently being half a second from falling over because of your drunk eagerness to "catch one of the stars", and since then, he had named you Stargirl. Your friendship had blossomed due to your matching humour and desire to travel the realms.

His shoulder pressed up against you, his warmth spread through you, making you feel giddy. You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or your desperation, as you abruptly laid a hand on his thigh.

If he noticed, he didn't show it as he took a swig of one of the elixirs that you had in your hand.

As he drank, you watched his eyes zero in on his elusive mate and you swore you saw them darken.

His scent visibly changed as he placed the now empty cup back on the table with a lethal fluidness that had you wondering how good he was at controlling his emotions.

"Its a shame we are mated to the wrong people, otherwise you and I would have ruled the world" he whispers, still not looking at you.

Your breath catching in your throat, your heavy heart pangs with emotion, exaggerated from the effects of the ethanol.

"At least she knows you are her mate Lucien... he doesn't even know about me," you miserably mutter.

You feel Luciens hot gaze rest on you as you look up into his deep eyes.

There's no doubt the turmoil of seeing each other's mates together shines in both of your eyes, but behind the pathetic nature of the situation, a force glint shines through his.

"Then why don't we tell him, Y/N," he urges, a smirk growing on his face.

Your heart drops as you make eye contact with Lucien, his eyes glinting with jealousy and anger.

You had never seen Lucien ever break his calm facades, he always would take whatever Elain would throw at him ; why was he so fired up tonight?

"You have always been so kind to Elain and given her time Lucien, why do you want to make her jealous now?" you voice your thoughts, causing him to look away, as you attempt to search his eyes.

Little did you know or feel, the dark cool gaze that had been assessing you since the moment Lucien had slipped in.

If one were to look through your party at this moment in time, the looks of longing and jealously swirling between you and Lucien could easily have been interpreted as longing and hunger for each other. With now, your full body turned to him, intimately touching him, shoulder to shoulder, anyone could mistake you as a couple.

---

Azriel nodded patiently as he listened to Elain talk about the new plants she wished to acquire from the Dawn Court for her garden.

He was trying so hard to listen and be attentive, but it was difficult when his shadows were buzzing about him, even more frantically, with the effects of the alcohol he had been consuming throughout the night.

He knew the amount of pumps of the vanilla perfume you had sprayed onto yourself, he knew how many times you had sighed throughout the night and he knew of the half-moon marks on your hands. His shadows told him everything, even when he didn't want to know.

For he didn't want to know the looks Lucien and you were giving each other, he didn't want to acknowledge the clenching of your thighs or the hand on your thigh or the-

"-So what do you think Azriel?"

Elains sweet voice cut in deeply through his silent spiralling, as he hummed coming back to the present.

Her big doe eyes innocently looked up at him as he racked his brain for what she had been asking about.

"YES I think the plants would be wonderful-," he began, when his shadows started screaming, "Elain excuse me one moment."

He quickly got up, his eyes narrow and jaw clenching as he went to get out of the booth in haste.

Elains eyes followed him and they widened slightly.

Luciens' hands were on your waist, holding you up from behind, as you both made your way to the dance floor, giggling.

---

read [ part two ] here deariess <3

[fount-of-knowledge]

kye's shmilk trailer Nooticing compilation

The Keys

if you've seen the leaks from a while back, we already know that one of the stage assets for shadow milk's update is a room with an extremely big key hole dead center of it. here in the trailer we can see more key imagery! in the first shot, we see the white pillars have a keyhole, and the gold ones have a key shape on the bottom of them. when we finally see the depiction of past-sm, his staff has a key shape on the bottom!!!!! also in the bottom right, you can also see a pillar that seems to be a key as well. (edit: ALSO THE KEYHOLE ON HIS CHEST idk why i forgot to mention that)

as for what this could mean, i mean my best guess is that they key symbolizes unlocking more knowledge, as we know from the 4th anni description that shadow milk was very curious and tried to learn everything there was to learn. the fact that it's a key also gives us a sense of mystery and secrecy although, and may tie into unlocking hidden/forbidden knowledge?

different soul jam design

so this is most definitely a different design from what we saw in both the beast-yeast trailer even past-sm's staff in the image above. i'm not entirely sure why this is, but i'm just gonna throw out another idea.

if the soul jam physically change upon the user's emotional state/will (dark cacao's soul jam turning white when he became apathetic in ep. 4) then it's possible that past-sm's soul jam changed into this very obviously darker and corrupted form once he began to embrace deceit. this could be wrong though and it's just a cool visual thing for the trailer *shrug*

Pondering His Orb

so this is very obviously pure vanilla (same skin tone and his chin is being covered with the same fabric) but why the hell is he pondering his orb rn. and why is he in a shady ass cloak and watching himself go to the spire of knowledge ?? is this like him in the future or... idk. WE'LL SEE I GUESS cuz idk what to make of this

interesting thing to add, past-sm is holding an orb. they're both orb ponderers

(this makes me think he might have had the ability to prophesize the future with a crystal ball or some shit. we already know he likes tarot cards so... Btw i already had this idea so devsis needs to pay me again.)

Let's play a homoerotic game of chess

board game time! not sure if it means anything, but shadow milk is initially holding a bishop, uses it to attack a pawn, and then picks up the king piece and uses it to attack pure vanilla cookie. the pawns on the white team are pv's friends... so he's calling them fodder basically

(also, side note: he changed the queen piece to what looks like a jester. is he calling himself a queen? LMAO)

WELCOME TO THE MINDFUCK!!!

multiple things to be talking about right here!! 1) when shadow milk seems to be gaining control over pure vanilla, pure vanilla's third eye/star marking melts

2) interestingly, as he does this, shadow milk doing his little cool animation also melts into pure vanilla. this could be a way to show him getting inside of pv's head i think. btw i drew this already like 11 months ago so. Devsis pay me.

"It's time to accept the truth you like so much! You, you are merely following in my footsteps. Oh, but it's inevitable. In the end, you will become me!"

3) extremely interesting of them to show past-sm, then show pv looking into the reflection of seemingly his own future corruption (btw it's the same silhouette as the pv costume from the livestream). we all already know what this means guys!! we're going to see the cycle that both shadow milk and dark enchantress went through happening to pure vanilla as well!!!! yippie!!!!!!!!

FUCKING BLUEBERRY YOGURT ACADEMY FINALLY MAKES AN APPEARANCE

EVERYONEEE WOULD YA LOOK AT THAT. WHO IS THAT? THE FIRST HEADMASTER. NOW. this doesnt confirm that shadow milk is the first headmaster BUT now we know that there is canonically a very real connection between him and the first headmaster!!!!

oh yea theres also this weird fucking sun/moon thing

ok what we can currently piece together about shadow milk's lore

"You know, I've always dreamt of a beautiful world of perfect chaos, where lies and truths can't be told apart!"

this isn't gonna be a deep analysis bc we don't know anything yet, BUT, from what i can gather, shadow milk cookie was a very curious god who was always in the pursuit of more knowledge. we know now that CANONICALLY he has ties to the blueberry yogurt academy, and at some point (if not from the very start) began to use the forbidden dark moon magic.

based on the 4th anni description alone, we can see that the or one catalyst for his corruption was the fact that... people were just stupid, and listened to him no matter if he was telling the truth or not (i assume it's deeper than that, but this is all we know rn). after learning this, he began to spread lies, using his knowledge to sow chaos and confusion.

also WHY ARE ALL THREE OF HIS DESIGNS FUCKING DIFFERENT

DEVSISTERRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[n0tamused]

*holds u at gunpoint* dr ratio helping u study for an exam/ quiz. Am i going through an exam rn? Yes. Will it stop me from reading ratio fan fics? No

A/N: *points a second gun at you* better watch where you're going cowboy. And felt this so bad, procrastination is killing me too, but Dr. Ratio fics never fail to make me feel something again, delulu is the solulu but only for a moment. Anyway, anon, hope you enjoy this blurpp, I wish you luck on your exams! <3 Wrote this while procrastinating myself, I gotta lock in tomorrow hhhhhhh

Contents: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader, can be read as modern au, fluff, possible grammar mistakes (I'm about to pass out)

“Here” A porcelain cup slid your way over the polished wood desk. It was a pretty off-white, rimmed with a golden line and another purple one, thinner than the gold. Tea steamed from within, wafting off the soothing floral smell. You sighed, quickly averting your glance back at the books open before you. There were two books, thick and intimidating, and your open notebook you were reading your scribbly notes from. 

Circling around you Veritas’ looming frame cast a shadow over your papers for a moment before he seated himself in the chair next to you, his own cup in hand. “You're still on the same problem as when you started?” He clicks his tongue, nursing a sip of his tea before setting it aside when he appears satisfied. You didn't have it in you to respond, wishing to avoid any form of an outlash, especially taken in the fact you had already told him how you struggled with procrastination for quite a handful of days. He has given his advice, but they failed to make the spark with you last long enough to properly sit and study, and that all caused guilt to claw at your belly from within.

Veritas, on the other hand, didn't seem half as phased as you thought he'd be, at first he didn't even notice how your eyes looked at him in a silent plea for mercy. His amber eyes looked over your notes, at all the scribbles and marked words, letting out a low “hmmm”.

“And tell me, what is it that has you so stumped about this? It's quite an easy equation” he wondered, a little taken aback it was taking you so long on this, yet he had to remind himself that this material was new to you, unlike him who has seen this material countless times over. You weren't dumb, however, so what is it..?

“I.. don't know... The results I've gotten previously make no sense and they do not match the one the professor got in class. His is the right result, and I don't get how every time I did the problem, I got a different result” you began, voice initially quiet as if begging his ears to become deaf to your words, but your plea went unanswered. His keen eyes regarded you with a strange curiosity, his chin leaning on his hand.  Only now did he realize how tense you looked. He blinks at you owlishly, studying your features for a brief moment before turning his gaze back towards the papers. “That is a problem.. Where is the formula your professor used? Do you have his equation as a whole written down here?”

You looked at him and then at the papers, eyes flickering all across the written words and printed text.  “I.. I do.. Yes, why?”

A scoff came first, “Why, so I can take a look at it so I can help you. You did ask me to help you, did you not?”, then his large hand picked up the pen you had abandoned on top of your notes, motioning for you to show him the notes. “We can go step by step and then compare the progress to see where your problem lies” 

Nodding, you were quick to breeze through the old notes, paper pages fluttering as you went over each one until finally reaching a page so full of equations it made your head hurt. With your finger you point to the one you were currently trying to figure out. “This one.. This is just a copy of what the professor did on the white board.. and this is the formula he used '' you showed him, letting him slide the notebook to his side of the desk when his fingers pinched the corner.  

Silence engulfed the room, and for a long while you could only watch as Veritas’ expression changed from focused, to confused and then to frustrated. 

“Are you sure this is what the professor wrote down? This is entirely incorrect. The formula alone is wrong, and the process of his calculations is just abhorrent.. What is this-” he slightly nudged the notebook away from him, offended by its contents, to say the least. 

Like a little wet rat, you held your hands together, feeling guilty for all reasons you shouldn’t, a pout playing about your lips as you nodded. “Yes.  That is what the professor wrote! One of my colleagues even took a picture at the end of the class since she was too lazy to write it all down herself, so I know for a fact I didn’t copy the notes wrong” you rushed to explain as your eyes glared at the offending problem. 

“That is ridiculous” Veritas grumbled as he opened the big math book a few pages back from where you had opened it, searching for the formulas, and pointing towards one he softened his tone. “This formula should have been used in this problem. It is similar, yes, but the functions can’t be any more different from what your.. professor used” looking down at your notes and at the problem afterwards, he sneered, seeing that the formula was used once again in the next equation. “I don’t know what your professor was thinking, but repeating the same mistake twice is beyond ignorant..” 

“What..? So..? So he is in the wrong?”

“Yes. Now.. show me the way you did it. And do it with this formula I just showed you” Veritas instructed, his nose scrunched up in disgust, although none of it was directed at you but rather at this person he didn’t even know. Perhaps he should go and meet him, just to see the face of ignorance and negligence in human form. 

Following his advice, you did as he asked, working on the problem with Veritas sitting at your side, his eyes occasionally flickering to the remaining problems that would follow this one.

“There… Is this right..?” You pulled back to allow him a better view of your writing, and it didn’t take the brilliant Veritas Ratio too long to check that you were - in fact - right.  His face eased slightly from its previous tension, sighing he gave a nod of satisfaction and acknowledgement. 

“That’s right. Well done” Veritas says, voice significantly softer as he addresses you, before turning sharper once more. “I knew something was wrong when you got stuck on this for so long. You managed to solve all those problems I gave you yesterday, which are arguably much harder than this and much more complex with extra steps.. Hmph, can’t believe someone didn’t point out this error in your professors work” 

Veritas leaned back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest in a comfortable fashion in which he usually sat around you, his whole composure softening, but through and through, it was the Veritas Ratio you always knew. Hope lit up in your eyes at the unraveling of this problem that nearly had you sick to the stomach for this whole day.

“So..I know this?..Does this mean I won’t fail..?

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, of course you won’t! You’ve got me to teach you, and let me be damned if you fail”

A victorious cackle left you as he said so, feeling free of the clutches of madness this exam has put you into, and as to celebrate you all but flung yourself onto Veritas, hugging him.

The sudden embrace surprised him and made him stutter, but his arms were quick to find their place around your body, scoffing, even as he tucked his face into your shoulder.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[meruz]

hi meruz please tell me all your thoughts on outer wilds I am absolutely Living rn

HI oh my god i have so many thoughts. I think I'm gonna keep posting fanart so this definitely isnt gonna be my last word on the matter but wow what a game! um... idk if I wanna just type forever but I can give you at least a few key thoughts I had...

It took me a second to get into! I had been waiting for the switch port so I was really excited starting out but there were a couple early play sessions months apart where I was struggling with the controls and overwhelmed with the openness...I have a hard time with a lot of open worlds games because I just..dont have a lot of free time LOL. But I was complaining abt this to my brother and he was also having a hard time rly digging into the game so when he flew over to visit me a couple weeks ago I was like ok lets do this together (incentivizing gaming by making it social/co-operative). And we had a blast!!! it rly is the type of game you can play as co-op just by having someone else on the couch or on stream doin the thinking alongside you or bouncing theories off of. I do think he's a much better puzzle solver than me though lol (he works in research, so he's got that researcher brain), he made a lot of the leaps of logic way early while I was still turning things over in my head lmao.... AND he's better with the controls because he plays a lot of flight sims?! i think he got annoyed watching me bumble around anytime i had the controller. my sole contribution was doing the stealthy parts in the dlc because im stupid and consequentially lack fear.

I kind of grew up playing majoras mask and windwaker like that was the era of zelda games I was rly activated and engaged for as a kid and I didn't realize how much I was missing and craving that type of experience again LOL. I think especially with how I personally felt that tears of the kingdom was narratively and structurally a step down from botw... idk... i mean you can tell from interviews abt Outer Wilds that the devs clearly have a lot of affection for and thoughts abt the Zelda series as well and I think Outer Wilds was like such a good encapsulation of everything I loved abt those games and also everything I wish they would do lol!! IT ALSO kind of solved a lot of my pain points with open world games and did it in a way that was so elegant... like I think i initially recoiled at the openness but then when i started exploring and realized the scope and level of detail it rly clicked into place.. im just in awe.

umm i love every hearthian they were all so charming. it rly did feel like an older school of nintendo rpg where every npc has so much personality lol. i loved that every alien race in the game was some weird animal like the designs for all of them were rly good. i love that it was a "worn" universe and that everything looked old or used. I love astronomy and space and space concepts but I don't really like really lofty and impersonal/minimalist scifi so i feel like this was a great and accessible art direction for me personally. i especially thought the backpacking/outerdoorsy aesthetic was really inspired! I think "exploration" sometimes exists on a spectrum where one end of it can be really colonialist/militaristic LOL... UM which im not like. fully against i think it can be an interesting idea to dissect? but i feel like we see it a lot and it was neat to see this which felt like the complete opposite end of that spectrum. weirdly enough playing Outer Wilds made me immediately go and finally finish Firewatch right after but I felt a little spoiled I was like ehh..that was good but it wasn't Outer Wilds LOL.

i think a lot of the themes reminded me of lord of the rings/tolkien lore LOL IDK. I GUESS THIS IS LIKE BIG SPOILERS SO if you havent played dont read but like. the entire concept of being born at the end of a great and enormous world/age with a rich history and you only getting to see the end of it, living in the shadow of great civilization...keeping your humble home in your heart idk. but then also the new world being a song ... I'm a sucker. I love it.

yeah sorry only compliments. anyways yeah i want to do more fanart... soon!! hopefully!

[welcometogrouchland]

An aspect of the comedy would, I believe, be Bruce and Dick's rampant hypocrisy regarding both these relationships. They like Bernard. He's nice! He's a great cook and he makes Tim happy :) and he's not a murderous gothy teenage crime lord :) unlike one of their sons dinner guests :) not to name names :))))))

The fact that no one across all of DC fandom (as far as I can tell) has mined the beautiful comedic potential that is the night and day difference between Tim and Damians current canonical love interests

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

remember how i said an old AU i had might be kicking my ass rn enough to make a fic?

out-of-context preview of one of the chapters i'm working on. would you guys be interested in what i've got going on here?

--

Sonic gasped, dropping to the floor and putting a hand on his chest.

“Left yourself open.” Shadow said, dropping his own fist and rolling his shoulder. He waited a moment for the other hedgehog to recover, before holding out his hand to help him up. 

The room was empty, aside from them. Their spars were usually supervised, but recently they’d been getting into fighting one-on-one without the scientists present. It had started when Shadow noticed Sonic falling behind in… pretty much every combat test presented to him. He’d suggested they get some extra practice in, and now here they were, meeting up whenever they got bored.

“I don’t get it,” Sonic hissed, shakily getting back to his feet. “How do you even catch me at that speed?”

“I don’t. You’re predictable, I know where you’re going to be. Soon as I’ve got a handle on your speed, I can figure out when to attack.”

“Predictable? Me?” 

“You rely too much on the moves you’ve been taught.” Shadow shrugged. “In a battlefield, enemies aren’t going to be challenging you to a supervised fencing match. They’re going to do whatever they can to kill you, so you have to do whatever you can to get to them first.” 

“I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“You might not have a choice.” 

“This is stupid.” Sonic crossed his arms, turning to glare at the wall. “The Professor told us that we’re meant to heal. Why do we need to train to fight, anyway?” 

Shadow watched him for a second. So that was another thing he hadn’t been told. Trying to figure out how best to word things, he eventually settled on, “Sometimes things aren’t so black-and-white. Sometimes we may have to fight to defend peace.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“A lot of things don’t.” Shadow sighed again. “Look, maybe one day you won’t have a choice. You’ll have to fight or die. And I’d rather you have blood on your hands than lose your life as pathetically as you lose every match with me.”

Sonic snorted, turning to glare at him. “Is that so, Ultimate Lifeform? You think I’m an easy match?”

There it was. A simple challenge was enough to bring Sonic out of his funks, at least for a moment. Shadow smirked and shrugged. “I know you are. Why else are we here?”

Sonic spun, his speed carrying him quickly to the other side of Shadow, where he laid his elbow on his shoulder. “So that one day I can kick your butt so thoroughly in tests that they’ll have to notice.” 

“You can keep dreaming.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sonic did a loop around Shadow, and then held up his fists. “How bout a rematch right now? I try that ‘thinking on my feet’ kinda thing, and you try not to slap me hard enough to make me black out.” 

“I’m not going easy on you.” Shadow smiled. “That’s the whole point. You learn how to match with me, you can match with anyone.” 

They smiled at each other for a moment. And then Sonic said, “Except [redacted].” 

“Oh, yeah, neither of us are beating [redacted], like, ever.”

[luckysupercatgirl9]

Update Rambling PT (2/2)

AUGH THE LEVEL CAP IS INCREASING AGAIN :( at least older stages will get easier

Hold up they're IMPROVING the hall of ancient heros?? That thing is already carrying me as is?? Lookig at the symbols maybe it'll also start increasing skill level???? Waaait thats awesome, on top of that, they're improving the toppings??? Not sure what their plans are, I just hope they make it cost less coins cuz I go broke when I'm upgrading those things. There's also another bit that was posted in the discord where they said all resonant toppings are returning

A new layout!!??? The current layout feels kind of cluttered cuz they just slowly kept adding stuff

Aaaauugghh i love milky way so mucj... I remember seeing this even in previous updates? I also remember straight up ignoring them tbh.. if I remember correctly I saw that milky ways new costume will be free?? So I assume it's part of this event so I'm gonna lock in this time (I will die if I dont have this costume...)

Boss rush!? I'm looking at it in the event video, its hard to say cuz the stuff's in Korean, but its gonna be a 7 cookie team, and it looks like we're getting buffs depending on the cookie types?? Like you get a magic buff if you have multiple magic cookies.

New special costumes!? Personally I don't think I'll pull for these, I like them but I'm saving rn.. for a certain legendary set that was promised in one of the live streams.. (I need them)

The shadow milk will def be a part of the beast raid like burning spice. Will Mystic flour ever get one??? Or are we just gonna ignore her?? I'm ready to sit in the town square and watch people dressed as shadow milk hanging out with people dressed as burning spice

We're getting new treasures??! And it looks like they're based off of pure vanilla instead of shadow milk. How many PV toppings do we have?? Only one, but now it's gonna be 3.. geeze

Not exactly sure what this entails, but I think I've seen this in other games? Only on the side of being a new player, though. Basically got to borrow someone's cookie, and they carried me kn the gane

[sophrosynesworld]

Community Service (Pt 3)

This is sticky sweet fluff and I'm kicking my feet over it rn.

"Are you ready?" Bakugo grumbles as I approach the campus edge, his trademark scowl in place. Despite his rough demeanor, he's become slightly more approachable since we started this community service project together.

"Yeah," I reply, adjusting my bag and falling into step beside him. The morning sun filters through the trees, casting shifting shadows on the sidewalk as we head to the bus stop. Our destination today is a surprise for him: the local children's library.

We board the bus, and Bakugo sinks into his seat, arms crossed and gaze fixed out the window. I sit next to him, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness about our task today. The library project is much different then our previous weeks.

As we get off the bus and approach the library, Bakugo's brows knit together. "What are we doing here?" he asks, suspicion lacing his voice.

"You'll see," I say with a smile, pushing open the library door. The smell of books and the sound of children's laughter greet us. A librarian waves us over, and I can see Bakugo's confusion deepen.

"Good morning! Thank you for helping us today," the librarian greats us warmly. "Our afternoon reader had to unexpectedly cancel." Her eyes flicker between us before settling on Katsuki. "Would you be willing to read for them today?"

Bakugo's eyes widen slightly. "Read to the kids?" he echoes, looking at me as if I've just plotted his murder.

"Yes," I reply quickly, cutting him off. "He would love to do that."

We follow the librarian to a back room where boxes of new books await shelving. She shows us the proper categorization for each section and then leaves us alone with the mounds.

Bakugo grabs a box and starts sorting through it with a scowl. "Did you have that planned all along?"

I chuckle, picking up a stack of books. "Surprisingly, no. I just signed us up for book duty. Who knows, you might actually enjoy it."

"Yeah, right," he mutters, placing books on the shelves with more force than necessary. "I’m not exactly the storybook type."

"Maybe not, but the kids will love it," I praise him, trying to offer some encouragement. "You’ve got a way of commanding attention. " my arms move as I talk. "They’ll be hanging on your every word."

He snorts but hesitates, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. "You really think so?"

"I do," I answer truthfully. "You're something special, Katsuki."

We work in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sound of books sliding into place filling the room. I glance over at Bakugo, noticing the way he’s starting to relax.

"Hey, thanks for not bailing on this," I say, giving him a smile. "I know it’s not our usual thing."

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "Dog's don't need washed every week."

We finish sorting the books and make our way to the reading corner. The children are already gathered, their eyes wide with anticipation.

I lean against the back shelf of the library, watching Bakugo with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. He takes a deep breath, then sits down in the oversized reading chair, book in hand. His steely eyes scan the room, and he looks almost annoyed to be there.

"Alright, settle down," he barks, his rough voice causing a few kids to jump. "I'm only doing this once, so you better listen."

The kids exchange nervous glances but lean in closer, their wide eyes fixed on Bakugo. I can’t help but roll my eyes a bit, wondering how this is going to go.

"This story is about the greatest hero of all time, All Might," he begins, his tone still harsh. He flips through the book slowly, taking a moment to let the children see the pictures before turning to the next page.

As Bakugo reads, something surprising happens. His voice gradually softens, offering different voices for each character. With every page, he gains confidence, slowly becoming more engaging. The kids, who were initially tense, start to relax and become engrossed in the story.

A little girl with pigtails raises her hand shyly. "Mr. Bakugo, what did All Might do next?"

Bakugo's lips twitch into a smile. "With a single punch, All Might sent the villain crashing into the ground. 'You won't harm anyone today,'" Katsuki mimics All Might with a pretty spot-on impression.

Another boy chimes in, eyes wide with excitement. "Did he save everyone?"

Bakugo nods, his tone growing even softer. He's not looking at the book anymore. "Yeah, he did. All Might always put others first, no matter the cost."

Bakugo returns to the story, his voice more animated as he reads the final pages. The children's eyes are glued to him, hanging on his every word.

"And that's how All Might became the symbol of peace," Bakugo concludes with a dramatic finish, closing the book with a gentle thud. He pauses for a moment, looking at the eager faces before him.

"Being a hero isn't just about strength," he states. "It's about heart, courage, and the will to do what's right."

Katsuki's gaze wanders from the children to me. He looks at me for a moment, and I can’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me at seeing this different side of him.

The room is silent for a heartbeat before the children erupt in applause, their faces lit up with admiration and excitement. Some of them are on their feet, clapping enthusiastically, while others cheer and shout praises.

Bakugo stands up, slightly uncomfortable under the attention, his usual scowl returning to a more neutral expression. However, I can see a faint hint of pride in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

One little boy tugs at Bakugo's sleeve. "Dynamite, can you read us another story sometime?"

Bakugo looks taken aback for a moment, then glances at me. I give him an encouraging nod. "We'll see," he grumbles, ruffling the boy's hair in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture.

As the children disperse, returning to their play areas or parents, Bakugo and I start to gather our things. The librarian approaches, a broad smile on her face. "Thank you so much for helping out today. You were wonderful."

Bakugo shrugs, looking a bit embarrassed. "It was no big deal," he mutters, but I can tell he’s pleased by the praise.

As we leave the library, the morning sun has shifted, casting longer shadows on the sidewalk. We walk in silence for a while before I turn to him.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" I tease, nudging him lightly.

He snorts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get used to it."

"The kids really liked you."

He glances at me, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "Maybe," he admits. "But can we do something else next week?"

I grin. "Sure. But you have to admit, you were pretty great in there."

Bakugo rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, as we continue our walk back.

[nightshade-error]

I have so. Much. To. Say. About the supercut, I'm losing my mind. SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY❗️❗️❗️

We got to see Williams death. Poor wet cat mf, he just wanted to help that child and probably go home. He was also probably thinking of his own kid when he was helping him leave :( Man, Williams character has ALOT of potential, especially for headcannons since we know so little about him.

Is that fucking dawko. NO FUCKING WAY THEY GOT DAWKO PLAYING MADPAT.

Mike and Lizzy, omg :((( they're so supportive of each other, Mike seemed so happy about the job (his dream job, mind you) only to be told the location closed, then he gets promoted to manager, then he dies supposedly following in his uncles footsteps.

Elizabeth seemed so crushed about it, too. She's litterally grieving her brother throughout the musical. It's the entire reason she becomes the server manager and accidentally released glitchtrap...WAIT THEY COMPLETELY REMADE THE SONG???

HOLY SHIT AND ITS STILL GOOD?!?!?!?

Shadows of Agony and Dark Remains still slap. All of the songs in the new saga are really good, honestly.

Glitchtrap gets crushed by a car and gets a drill pushed through his face lmao...wait what's CB doing?- 😨

LIZ NO NO NO NO NO. OMFG NO. CIRCUS BABY HAVING PTSD IS SO SAD I CANT BELIEVE LIZ FUCKING KILLED HER WITH A LIVING TOMBSTONE REFRENCE ARE YOU KIDDING ME RN????

And to top it all off. The ending. Glitchtrap, you are a sadly very well written villain, and I'm so mad at you. Elizabeth went through all that just to be blow up with Circus baby and Glitchtrap. The poor animatronics had to watch, too. I'm so upset.

Dad!Nate for the win yall, he has to go pick up his traumatized animatronic kids from their burning down home :( (we now know how Nate got his hands on BB now)

ASH?!?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK, WE WERE RIGHT, OMFG MATT HAS ROBO HANDS LETS FUCKING GO CHAT!!

And we end with Nate and AJs promotions and one of the best credit sequences and the greatest remake of Baby I love you. This musical has a special place in my heart, and I am planning on posting some of my own art sometime soon. Can't wait to see the next RE video and what else the Fandom is going to create. Thanks RE for everything!!

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love, chapter 5

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter six ♥ summary: a cute comfort fic teehee and featuring their playful bickering ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: 4.3k ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: so essentially my concept is that reader isn't a 'sinner' at all and is just a gentle girl who has these abilities just because of a vengence she has + also i hold onto my thoughts that her radio shit is genuinely a curse because of her actions. not really within context of this story but i wanted to add that to emphasize that that is why alastor doesn't know how to talk to her sometimes. ♥ no tag list rn :3

You can't ignore him, especially when he pops into your room. He didn't want to, but with Charlie asking nicely and Vaggie threatening him, he rolled his eyes before giving in. You were the last person he wanted to see, and everyone knew that Charlie asked Husk first.

But nobody wants to get close to you when your songs are so miserable.

Angel walked by your room and burst into tears, as did Charlie when she went to knock on it. Even she couldn't overcome the nightmarish visions you forced into her head.

She gets it now, how terrifying you make people. She understands why you isolated yourself.

Alastor's first thought was to ask you to leave, especially since you brought despair to his employees. But after putting his fingers on his temples, he realized he needed to put his stubbornness aside and be a friend (in actuality, Charlie got mad when he talked about it).

He's never had to comfort you before. His eyes dart around the room, avoiding your saddening form. What does he say? The whole thing was somebody else's idea; he didn't have the time to think about something to say.

What would make you happy?

He sneaks up to you, hiding his static, wanting a second to see how you pose yourself in isolation. The eerie violins show no signs of dissipating; you keep still under your blankets; anyone could have mistaken you for sleeping, but he's watched you long enough to know the difference. Deep down, he is grateful that you won't show him what true terror is the way you do to others; he can't even imagine what his version of torture would be.

Should he say that you can ever push him away? That must be it...it's what you would only dream of him saying.

The first thing he does is have his shadow travel on the wall attached to your bed, where you can make eye contact with it. A bit of static joins your music. It's pretty endearing.

When you reach out to touch it, he's seized by the urge to leave the room and ditch it there to comfort you. Is that all it would take? Judging by your music's influx, he may still sense the harmful waves.

A chill seems to run up your spine, and to your shoulders, and in a slow turn, you look at him. What a sweet girl, he thinks. But then you whip your head back towards the wall. His eyebrow twitches.

Alright. Playtime.

He emerges from his shadow in the blank of an eye and lays on the bed next to you, on his side, propping himself up by the elbow. Your eyelids flicker at the sight of him.

Your hand noses between your bodies, and in a careful push, you shove his face away from you. He stares at the wall. When his eyes meet yours, there's a warning, and you pull away.

You strain and turn around, but his hand yanks you back to face him.

"Stop trying," you sign.

'You've changed so much,' he said yesterday, facial expression portraying nothing but disgust. And with his prideful smile, 'Overlords rise and fall, and I remain through it all.'

With your signs, he stays still, brain racing. "I'm not trying anything."

"I know you don't care, who asked you to be here?"

He almost responds with an answer. He lifts his hands to his shoulders, the ghost of 'princess' on his hands, before he transitions it to, "We all care about you, my dear."

He struggles. "I care for you."

"You're lying."

When you turn away, he lets you. But that doesn't mean he doesn't grab your waist and pull you against him, making room for him to transport right in front of your face again.

"Why don't you stop trying to drive me away? It's not going to work. I'm not going anywhere. I never have."

Except for the years he left you alone, you retort only with your expression. You both skip over that conversation.

"You always came back." You sign.

Alastor is winning you over. He knew that would work. Even your music has started to lighten up, though the minor key is still prominently lingering.

"Of course I do, darling."

For a simple test, you lean your head forward, and with an instinct he regretted, he presses his forehead against yours. But it's not enough to calm you down. He notices the lack of motion in the room, how still your hips are, and how small your breathing is. Your neck, as gorgeous as it is, is bent at an uncomfortable angle to match him. He knows it hurts you, so like the gentleman he is, his big hands cup your neck and cheek, letting you rest against him.

There you go; your music calms completely. Was it that easy for you to forgive him? You must genuinely relish him. You couldn't process the next several seconds. His forehead pulls away from yours, and your eyes widen when he moves closer and presses his lips against your forehead. They don't perk like a kiss but rather brush against you.

And then he disappears, his task considered done, and he leaves you flustered (on purpose). That asshole. Lukewarm air passes over your shoulders. Hell's days are always warm, but you find yourself shivering uncontrollably. He's only held you like that once before, the last visit before he left for what felt like an eternity. His lips felt like Heaven then, just as they do now.

After a few minutes of lying in your bed, exasperated at his fleeing, especially after holding you in your bed like that, you try to grasp how much he probably disliked doing that (unbeknownst to you, false, it was just the uneasiness if you were going to do something).

Flickering lights grab your attention, and you turn around to see Charlie flicking your light switch, already half inside the room. With an awkward wave, she invites herself in, fiddling with her hands. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Your eyes widen. You're in trouble, aren't you? Will they kick you out? Is this the end of everything? "I'm sorry for all that," you try to act casual, "Sometimes it happens."

Which is the most dismissive way to describe it.

Charlie just smiled softly, shaking her head. She keeps walking into the room, perhaps because of the urgency, which explains her bad manners.

"No, no, you don't have to worry about that—this isn't about you," she reassured you, resting a hand on your shoulder. "I need to ask you something."

Even more ominous.

"What possibly?" You sit up in bed properly, letting your legs dangle from the side. "Am I supposed to be keeping a secret? Is it about Alastor?" The words slip. Those sentences together are the worst combination.

"It's... Partially about him, yes." She responds, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was even holding. How is she going to explain this? You look her up and down, taking in every bit of her body language.

"Partially?"

She nods, beginning to fumble her hands together as she tries to form words. You stay patient, letting her figure it out for herself while at the same time screaming inside. Even your music starts to change.

She forces out whatever she can muster. "How long have you known him?"

"Since the moment he entered Hell we've known each other. Now tell me why you ask?"

Charlie begins to fidget as soon as you confirm, almost like she doesn't want to continue that conversation. She took another deep breath before responding. "Has he always acted like this? Did something change him?"

"Goodness gracious, will there be an overall point to this? He maintains his ideals, yes." You put a hand on your forehead to calm yourself down.

"That wasn't what I asked you."

Your eyes pierce hers, the look in your eyes reminding her that you were an Overlord, while the stare she has reminds you that she could kill you in an instant. Charlie Morningstar is glaring at you.

"He hasn't changed." You start off slowly, making sure she can understand. "You can trust me on that. There isn't any drastic events in his time in Hell and he will never change."

You say the lie as if it's second nature. From the time you left, something could have happened to him. With the differences in his composure, having less goofiness than you once remembered, you know it must have been something.

"That's exactly what I'm concerned about."

"Oh, he's not going to hurt anyone here." Your laugh doesn't comfort her. "If he wanted to, he would have already."

She has always assumed that, but hearing it from one of his closest friends makes her feel better.

She needed to come to you to confirm her beliefs. She trusts Alastor, but only to some extent. His motives are questionable. However, if you trust him, then why shouldn't she?

"Do you really think so?

"I know so. Don't you go worrying about it, princess."

She takes a deep breath, her smile returning. "Thank you. And-And thank you for being here! I gotta tell Vaggie."

The interaction ends with her grabbing your hands, nodding, blushing, and turning away with excitement in her steps. So delighted to keep her lover happy.

You look around your room, searching for any clue of Alastor's shadow. You wouldn't want him to know you were just talking about him. With no sign of him, the privacy offered calms your nerves.

You strip off the nightgown, definitely shooing away any of his shadows that could have been around. Brush your hair and tie lace layers to your waist before putting on the final layers of your dress. You look just as you did those bizarre years ago. A smile reaches your face, one that only you have witnessed.

.

"You keeping yourself busy?" You sign, sitting down at the bar. The slight ting of melancholia in your music makes Husk's eyes water, but he swallows the lump in his throat so as not to make you feel guilty.

"You could say that."

There's a childish kick of your legs. "Did you know I was coming?"

"Of course I did. We can hear you from a mile away."

"Not like that, Husk," you laugh and wave at him. "I meant when Alastor left."

But the conversation is closed before it can even start.

"Ah, finally, you've joined us!" Alastor's shadow dances across the walls before Alastor sits next to you.

"Yeah, I had to eventually." You give him the most comforting smile.

"What have you been doing since this morning?"

You give a joyous smirk, sarcasm evident. "I can ask you the same thing."

"Oh, you know," he plays along, "the usual. Nothing. Nothing here satisfies my interest."

“Interests like cannibalism? Gruesome murder? Your boredom must be unbearable! Were you waiting for me to join you?”

“Oh my, how sadistic of you. Are you a glutton of violence and murder, my dear?”

"Maybe I am, everybody loves letting off a little steam."

He laughed softly and stood beside you after you sat at the bar. His smile never left his face, even as he gave you a look that screamed oh, bullshit. You still have those tendencies?

“Oh yes, of course. A very common thing, letting off steam. So tell me, my dear,” he leans forward against the bar, "How do you like to let off steam then?”

You avoid his question for a few seconds as you point to a bottle on the shelf, Husk throwing a thumbs up before treating you. You lick your lips. "Going around luring people in, I suppose. Showing people their true weaknesses. The same old, same old, ah, do you remember?"

His smile widens, and his movements grow almost excited and cheerful. “Ah yes, what a pleasing reminder. I vividly remember you tearing hearts out of people,” he says with a soft chuckle. His eyes look you over once more before signing speaks again. “Though, I also recall how you hated getting bloody."

You laugh. "Ah yes, it was the stickiness. I used to ask you to poof it off for me." You wave a hand dismissively, a small smile growing. Husk stares at you two and the joyous banter between friends and he gets a sick feeling in his gut. Two dangerous and terrorizing overlords laugh as if they're humans again. There's no worse thing in Hell.

He chuckles once more and gives a small roll of his eyes before leaning forward and putting an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you closer gently, making sure you didn't topple over.

“Oh, and how you'd hate touching me whenever you saw me after a meal. You wouldn't even shake my hand!” He continues as he moves his hand and fiddles with a strand of your hair. “Though, I suppose it’s quite ironic.”

"Ironic?"

His smile turns into a smirk, his hand still gently playing with a strand of your hair as he signs sarcastically.

“Oh my dear, you really are quite simple sometimes, aren’t you? You can incapacitate anybody to the point of unrecognition right in front of me, yet you never seem to enjoy seeing me when I do. Quite ironic, don’t you think?”

"You're a tad bit scary, and I wouldn't consider myself as scary as you. You looked frightening, and I'm afraid I looked beautiful." A small laugh leaves your lips. Your thoughts flicker through all the moments you've seen him covered head to toe in blood, the moments where he'd just smile and address you like nothing was wrong.

He continues to smile without faltering, his head tilting, and he sits so close to you that Angel starts paying attention with wide eyes.

“And too beautiful, I’d say. Your victims just fall into your lap, imagine a world where mine would! But of course, I find myself enjoying the chase."

Great, Husk thinks, now they're bantering like serial killers.

"Alastor, all of Hell would be extinct if people just fell into your lap."

His eyes were locked on yours, a soft and almost mocking expression on his face. “Let’s be honest, darling. I doubt all of Hell would be gone.”

"You'd save Rosie," you list off people. "Mimzy, of course, if you're considerate enough. Hmm, who else? Nifty, what a charming woman."

He gave a soft roll of his eyes and decided to list more names.

“Ah yes, you can’t forget old Husker at the bar can you! After all, he does keep me entertained with all his sarcasm and wit." His eyes slide over to the cat in question, who avoids his gaze to pretend he's having a deep conversation with Angel.

"That's all I can think of!" You smile to yourself, both of you playing around with the apparent other option. "But I doubt you'd enjoy life without victims. That's your forte down here. Or... most certainly ever."

All he offers is a slight nod in agreement. “That’s absolutely correct, darling. I would probably be dreadfully bored without all those wonderful victims to have my fun with, and my dear, you'd never become one of them. I'd keep you here.”

"What if you get too bored and decide to kill me off?" Your smile becomes lopsided when you try not to laugh. The drink before you finally gets touched as you bring it to your lips, continuing to sign with the other hand. "I'd leave your little party."

“Oh, please. As if I would ever kill you. After all, you keep me entertained when you're near.” He says, eyes gleaming in amusement as his eyes lock onto yours, his smile growing wider as he rests an elbow on the table, his entire body facing you.

"What a compliment," You put the drink down a little too hard. "You know how to make a lady blush."

The same smile stays on his face, not faltering as he lets out a soft, almost ridiculous chuckle, knowing you can't hear it. He replies as if you weren't being sarcastic.

“Oh, I always knew how to properly flatter people!" He pauses for a moment, grabs your drink, and cheers to you. “Though I do believe I like it when you blush more.”

He downs it as if it's nobody's business.

"I can tell," and that's the only response you give to that. "Has Charlie given you any demands today?" You quickly change the topic, trying to keep the casualness from becoming something more.

He leans back from the bar, shaking his head. "Oh, I wish she gave me something fun to do. Something to keep me preoccupied, but I was once again given nothing.”

"Do you have any plans, then? Something to help your forever boredom?"

He pauses, simply sitting in place with a smaller smile as he seems to think for a moment. “Hmm, not a single thing, I suppose. My only plan for the evening was to see you again! That lovely music of yours tells me that you feel much better.”

"Always better when I see you," you try to say but end up rolling your eyes sarcastically, turning away. "Thank you for that. I know I scared the others."

“Oh, please. You scaring the others is quite the common occurrence at this point. I doubt it surprises anyone anymore.” The loud laugh you give him helps him continue, “And of course! No need to thank me, I'll always be here now.”

"Very funny, what a comedian you are." The looming sensitivity of the topic doesn't fail to make me feel a twinge of guilt. It's embarrassing how much you depend on him, though he must enjoy it greatly with how much he edges it on.

“Oh my, my dear, always getting sarcastic with me, I do wonder why.”

"Do you like?"

“Until the day we die."

"How sweet!" It's your turn to cheer to him. "If we died together, I'd be such a winner. Or would you?"

Angel puts a hand between you two and signs the few sentences he knows. "Get a room."

Alastor barks out a laugh while you just smile.

"This is a room! How witty you are, Angel Dust."

He turns to you for approval, and his smirk grows wider when he sees your smile and the hint of genuineness in your eyes; his lids fall down almost teasingly. You focus on Angel's glance at you, where you just give the smallest shrug at him. Alastor continues the chatter and pretends Angel isn't even there. Husker tries to wave Angel away with a warning. If you're going to piss off anybody, don't let it be those two.

“Oh, I always win, darling. You really should know that by now.”

His signing is filled with gliding in a way that only an old-fashioned man can manage.

"You won me over." A blatant confession, but you pretend all it is is a friendly remark. "And you won the trust of the princess of Hell! I guess that's just the charisma you're known for. I always knew you would accomplish something great. When you first arrived, I remember how you started your reputation by picking off overlords like they were flies. You should have heard the gossip Zestial started!" And the most impactful change of tone, "Can I ask a question?"

His smile grows almost wider at your acknowledgments. Good to know he left an excellent first impression. His response lands in his brain, but he considers communicating it, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes as he slowly nods once, signaling for you to go on.

“Of course you can ask a question, dear.”

"Why didn't you kill me?" Your smile seems to grow. A few days ago, if you were to ask, you would be frowning and nervously looking away. But the rather blunt words he forced you to comprehend last night cause you to realize just how much you've lost the attitude you were known for. When did emotions get ahold of you?

“Now, now, dear, you didn’t seriously think I’d kill you, did you? You should know that the day we met, you have captivated me. I wouldn’t simply kill you after being so captivated by you. Now, why didn't you try and kill me?”

His question has never crossed your mind. Your eyes widen a bit. Alastor relishes in catching you off guard.

"For the same reason, of course. There's nothing better than someone bewitching." You place a hand on your cheek.

"Well, I’d consider it fair, seeing how you haven’t tried to kill me.”

The huff Husk gives doesn't go unnoticed by either of you. You turn to him, a silent notion that he's been counted, and gesture back up to the drink he poured for you again. This time, he makes another one for Alastor. "Oh please," Alastor pushes the second drink towards you. "It was absolutely disgusting."

You roll your eyes, taking a painfully loud sip from the glass and letting out an 'ah' when finished. But then your eyebrows furrow, processing the sentence he had previously said.

"Haven't? Don't you mean hadn't? I wouldn't even think about killing you now." Once again, you shrug, but lighter this time. "Young man, you know that you'd win."

"Well, I'm certainly glad you've realized that your taste in drinks is absolutely dreadful.” His ears flatten on his head. "Did you seriously just call me a ‘young man’? Really, darling?”

"I'm older," you remind, playfully shaking your shoulders, tilting your head back and forth as you do so. "You're a young man to me, never forget. I could just almost pinch your cheeks."

“Oh, well, excuse me, grandma.” He says, mocking your gesture. “Never say young man ever again. Or that you can ‘pinch my cheeks.’”

"So defensive." The drink once again finds its way to your lips. "Next time I hold your face, I'm going to pinch your cheeks. I got to catch you by surprise."

"You'll never be able to touch me again."

"You wouldn't be able to live without it. Don't pretend not." You swivel the stool, ensuring one of your shoulders blocks Husk's sight. "I know your secrets."

“What can I say, darling?" Both of his hands go up as he shrugs. "You're getting rather confident, aren't you?"

Is that a threat? You lean back, eyebrows furrowing. "Aren't you the confident one here?"

His fingers gently grab your chin and pull your face closer to his, his eyes studying you closely. “My, what a cute question, darling."

You two should definitely get a room.

"Maybe not confident," you tease, "Perhaps passionate? I would never want to be in the way of your passions. What would I do if you went all big scary monster on me?"

What a curious way to phrase it. Do you consider it a 'big scary monster' when his limbs contort and his bones crack? That's the charisma he's always loved.

"Do I not scare you, my love?”

The question surprises you a bit; the tone of it unmatches the previous tension. "No, of course not."

His once-consistent smile grows enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. He shakes his head slightly in a soft yet sarcastic manner.

“No, of course you’re not afraid of me, darling. You’re never afraid of me. Always so fearless when you’re around me, isn’t that right?”

His cracked, sour casualness gives a dynamic much love when side by side with your relaxed attitude. You smirk and shake your head. "I'm as brave as a lion."

"Of course you are."

"Then it's settled, I should have no reason to be scared of you. Case closed." You stand, extending your hand to shake his. "To mutual respect." He stares at it, wondering if he can trick you into a deal at this very minute. He glances up at you, eyeing you closely as he slowly and gently takes your hand.

“Ah, yes. To mutual respect." He shakes your hand firmly and politely. Another day.

"Perfect." You pull away, looking around the room at where to go next. Sit on the couch? How boring. You can slide down the stairs railings; that would be more exhilarating. "You said you wanted to see me this evening? Is there really anything to do around here? Do you just sit and dissociate all day?"

He sighed when you pull your hand away from his. His eyes still follow you closely. His smirk dropped slightly, misperceiving your words.

“My, how cruel. You really think all I do is sit and dissociate all day?”

"It's what you do instead of sleeping. Quite unsettling, Alastor."

"Always awake, my love. Always awake."

"Definitely. Yeah, my mistake."

Your smile reminds him of the decades you've spent together just having a long conversation. It's the type of conversation two married people would have when they get ready for work in the morning.

Sitting on the couch ended up being a good idea. You miss making him laugh. Alastor always looks at you as if he wants your blessing, his eyes remaining on you, watching your every expression and reaction to his words.

It's a unique type of interaction with The Radio Demon, but not a bad one. There's nothing that makes you feel more special than the way he looks at you.

Stop doing that. You plea in your head, and you drive me insane. How else am I supposed to feel?

He crosses his feet when he hears the jazz finding its way into your music. He leans into the couch, smile growing, not letting you know why he's smiling.