#she drank half a bottle of wine and got drunk

[lusanchromchinnn]

Viago De Riva your Undiagnosed But Extremely Obvious OCD is fascinating and so so revealing of your character and motivations ohh my gosh. Like of course your obsession is poisons and being poisoned! I refuse to believe that growing up adjacent to the royal court wasn’t the driving force behind this because literally where else would someone hear so many stories of people succumbing to assassination by poison. I bet nobles were dropping like flies to the crows every day. I bet he saw his father’s food taster (we know he visited during Viago’s youth) and realised how truly possible it was to die from a bite of food. Bonus points if he actually witnessed a food taster keel over in front of him. Paranoia through the fucking roof as he researches poisons for years on end before he’s ever presented with the option of joining the crows. Maybe he only drank out of clear glasses he could hold up to the light. Maybe he insisted on preparing all of his own meals rather than let servants near his food, much to the chagrin of his mother. AND OH GOD HIS MOTHER.

We know she was an alcoholic, and that Viago hated her drinking, it scared him as a small child. But what if his mind won’t let him watch her sip a glass of wine without the image of it being her last. She could be a target as a mistress of the king, just as he is as a royal bastard. Perhaps he becomes the one who uncorks her bottles and pours her glass after glass, because he’d rather her drunk over dead. Of course, there’s the very real possibility she succumbs to alcohol poisoning, which is so ironic and so fucking sad. He pours her final glass and becomes what he fears most.

It’s a no-brainer that he joined the crows later on. Not only does it give him access to the poisons and antidotes he’s craved for years, but it gives him a sense of control. He’s making himself less of a target than his half-siblings (and it’s more socially acceptable for a crow to wear gloves constantly lmao). He’s so skinny because he refuses to eat unless he’s 100% positive his food is safe, checking and double checking even if he prepares it himself. He knows, logically, that his fears are unfounded, that he (or someone he trusts completely like Teia) made this dish, or poured this drink. But he needs to be sure, or his brain won’t stop screaming that he’s going to die! Right now! God forbid he’s proven right too, like with the adder in the wardrobe that he survived because of his doses of antivenom. I just knowww his compulsions got so much worse for a while after that, it was so cathartic and miserable for him. I understand this freak and his freak ways. What a guy, thank you Courtney Woods.

[psin314]

some of murat's exes and "exes???". nico, ines and fargiz. (info and little pics under the cut)

nicole (or nico) de riva, 24 yo (murat's 22-23). elf, mage, healer. after the fights young murat run to her to heal his wounds, especially he cared about the ones on his face. murat still sometimes visits her. friends but not close, mean to each other as a joke. she has seen murat naked so many times and is not proud of it. yes, they slept together. she immediately said to murat that he's not her type. but ovulation leads you to places you wouldn't even go with a gun. + a bottle of wine, and they made out a couple of times. she healed not only his wounds but also hey i have this weird rush on my well yeah... someone had to treat his stds... alive in datv. still see each other sometimes.

ines, 19 yo (murat's 22-23). murat's nice ex. there was a real romance, like in books. he saved her from some bad guys in an alley, she gave him something in return, they went separate ways and then met by chance. they started talking, falling in love, all that stuff. everything was very sweet. then ines started noticing that murat was kind of downcast, sad and decided to find out what was troubling him. she really wanted to help him. in the end, murat got scared that she would find out that he's a crybaby, that he doesn't know who he really is, and that this charismatic cool guy is just a mask and inside he's just a loser. (murat's mental stability was very questionable.) so he lied to her. like i'm a crow this is very dangerous i love you and i want everything to be okay with you so we need to break up although i don't want this but i'm very sorry blah blah. they said goodbye to each other very tearfully. ines believed that she could be in danger because of him and let him go. murat then went on a drinking binge for a week as usual. in datv ines is happily married, 3 children, a nice house, everything like that. and she sometimes remembers her wild youth with a smile. she doesn't hold a grudge against murat and hopes that at least he's alive and everything is okay with him.

fargiz (his real name is fargat, likes -iz more), 27 yo (murat's 25). half-elf, but looks very human, bard, assassin, sometimes pirate. originally from rivain, spent half his life until adulthood constantly moving back and forth across antiva. plans to move to orlais (dreams of a luxurious life), but before murat hung out in antiva. murat fell in love with him as soon as he saw him. fargiz was playing and singing somewhere at the market. after the performance, murat offered him a drink. that's how they started talking. all murat did was confusing fargiz with his behavior towards him. murat was a big ass red flag here, but fargiz didn't want to notice it cus he fell in love too. murat stated at the very beginning that he's not into guys, he's just "quirky" and very passionate man. but murat kept flirting, casually touching and drinking with him. so fargiz thought murat was just joking. they probably kissed drunk, but murat added no homo after each time. they were "friends" like that for several months. then day x happened, they were drunk af again and it seemed like things were heading towards s e x. but at some point murat stopped it, said he's not like that, joked and left. fargiz got fucking mad at murat and the next day he yelled at him for hours on the street and then stopped talking to him. and a few days later he left treviso. murat learned from their mutual friends that he had sailed away to some other antivan city port with the first morning ship. murat didn't look for him cus well fuck him i dont need this *** anyway. the next week he drank, cried and hated himself. 🗿 in datv he lives in orlais, married a lonely rich widow. he holds a grudge against murat and hopes that at least he's dead and if not he hopes that murat is a drunkard with a miserable life and his dick has fallen off.

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

I love the when he gets drunk and is clingy! Can you do a reverse version (with the reader being drunk instead) :)))

When You get drunk and clingy

I only did Zayne and Rafayel since i only did them in original, hope you don't mind.

About Requests: if you suggest scenario ,please choose which lads men you want me to write for.

After tiring night you and Tara decided to have some fun ,and had girls night. few hours later when she left ,You found yourself sprawled out on the couch, a bottle of wine half-empty in your hand. The room was spinning.

Rafayel walked in, seeing you in your state, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone had too much fun," he teased, sitting down next to you. "Hey, babe" You slurred, trying to focus on him through the haze, "I missed you so much."

He chuckled, taking the bottle from you, his hand lingering on your arm. "Aww, I missed you, too cutie" he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. You snuggled closer to him, your head resting against his chest.

"You know, babe, I think I'm gonna marry you, maybe have your babies, and..." Your voice trailed off as you started to slur even more, enjoying the feeling of his warmth and the safety that came with being in his arms.

"Wow you've got big plans "Rafayel said, his face flushed,amused by your drunken ramblings. "Well, don't forget, we can't have babies here," he teased, his hand running through your hair.

You giggled, your face flushed as you wrapped your arms around his waist. "No, but we could go to our room, and I could practice being a mommy with you," you said, your eyes half-lidded. Rafayel chuckled, shaking his head.

"You're crazy, but I love you for it," he replied, gently lifting you to your feet. You leaned against him, your arms draped over his shoulders. "Let's go make some practice babies," you insisted, your words slurring.

Rafayel grinned, looking down at you. "Maybe later,when you are sober" he murmured, escorting you to the bedroom, you pouted but followed him anyways. "At least cuddle with me?"you slurr and he chuckles "of course baby".

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were at a friend's party, having a good time. Or at least, you thought you were. The more you drank, the more you realized you missed Zayne.

Soon enough, you were that friend who's had too much to drink. Your laughter was too loud, your voice slurred, and your attempts at dancing were more like flailing. It became harder and harder to keep your balance.

"Zayne..." You mumbled to yourself, turning to Tara "... I need... need..." Your words trailed off, your brain not quite registering what you wanted.

"Babe, Zayne's not here," she replied, concern in her voice as she watched you sway.

"No... No, I need him here," you insisted. "He's gonna pick me up..."

Your friend shook her head, her expression a mix of amusement and concern. "I'll call him for you, but you're going to have to wait here, alright?"

You nodded, slumping down on couch. Your eyes heavy

Some time later, you were awakened by the sound of the car door opening. Blinking blearily, you saw Zaynes concerned face, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance.

"Hey, baby" he said, gently helping you into the car. "What happened?"

"I... I missed you, and I needed you, Zayn-" Your words slurred, and you let out a giggle as you buried your face into his chest. Zayne chuckled softly his cheeks reddening, running a hand through your hair.

"It's okay, Y/n. I'm here now," he said, driving you home, the sound of your light snores filling the car.

Once home, he helped you inside, making sure you were safely tucked into bed. Tossing back your covers, you mumbled a sleepy "I love you," before drifting peacefully off to sleep.

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

[zyonicorn]

Tipsy

“Honey I’m back- honey?” you were back from work, happiness builds up and your heart races every time you think of tomorrow is your day off. You missed your wife, you’ve been rejecting her for so many nights already- you didn’t want to, but jobs are tiring.

Every time you say “Baby, not tonight” she responds with a weak “okay”, though she tried to sound normal, you could still sense the disappointment.

You put your bag and coat on the side tidily, just like how your wife told you to, and walked towards your shared bedroom in your suit. Jihyo, your wife, is sleeping. You sat beside the bed, kind of confused as it was the afternoon, why would she be sleeping? “Babe I’m back,” you said. Jihyo didn’t respond. You recalled what you saw when you came in, though your attention was on the bedroom door.

An empty wine bottle. An empty wine bottle? Did she drink the whole bottle? You know she’s an alcohol lover and you loved how she acts when she's drunk- clingy, silly, and all that.

“You’re drunk aren’t you” your voice pampered, pushing her hair behind her ears so you can have a better view of her face, blushing from the alcohol, gorgeous as always.

Your touches woke her up, she let out a soft whimper and changed her position from sleeping on the side to the back, reaching both of her hands out to the ceiling, like a baby requesting hugs.

“Hmm, my baby.. sorry for waking you up “You buried yourself into her embrace, though you felt her warmth through the blanket. You got up a little and looked into her half-closed eyelids, “are you naked?” you hesitated before you asked, but thinking that she was drunk, it probably wouldn’t be embarrassing.

“Mmm baby I was so hotttt”

“Cuz you drank a whole bottle of wine?”

“Yeahhh I missed you soooo much and I was masturbatinggg…”

You were shocked that she said it so directly, but giggled that she’s so horny because of you.

“Bad girl, thinking of me when you’re masturbating?”

“I’m a bad bad girl… only for you-“ she pulled you back on your neck to press you into a kiss.

Passionate, her tongue deep inside your mouth, you closed your eyes to enjoy her touch. Neediness was written all over her face, she cupped your jaw as you melted into the kiss. The air was thick, all you could smell was her scent, something uniquely hers.

You tasted the alcohol at the corner of her mouth, “so drunk and needy” you whispered between kisses.

“Tipsy” Jihyo corrected.

“You’ve been rejecting me every night.. how dare you..” she flipped you to the side, got rid of the blanket, and positioned herself on you in a swift motion.

Jihyo straddled your crotch, intensionally moving her hips, and unbuttoning your suit while she was still blushing, eyes half-closed.

You spread yourself, knowing that she has been sexually frustrated without you, ready to give all of you to her until she’s satisfied.

“Don’t you ever forget that I’m your wife..” she pushed the suit down your shoulders, and dragged it out underneath your back, throwing it behind without care.

She leaned closer as her face hovered above yours, finding her lips on yours again.

“It has been so long.. I can’t get enough..” her sloppy kisses make you breathless, your heart racing from the long-lost touches.

Her hands roamed over your body, every inch of your skin she could reach. Eventually, she took off your bra and fully lied onto you. Her chest pressed on yours, warm and soft, making you dizzy along with the kisses.

“I’m all yours tonight,” you said between kisses. You gasped as she positioned her thigh on your aching core, putting force just to hear your soft moans.

Jihyo sneaked her hand down your stomach, while the other one kept you in place. She started to circle her fingers on your clothed center, as you instinctively pulled her hair.

Feeling the sensation, your underwear got wet as Jihyo kept her pace steady. She started to grind her bare clit on your smooth suit pants, making the spot wet and turn into a deeper color. You felt the wetness through the fabrics, just like how Jihyo felt yours.

Her moans joined yours, not louder than you tho, her passion showing in the kisses, eventually breaking the kiss, focusing on rocking her hips and circling your clothed clit.

She moved to the side and took off your pants, leaving only your underwear on, and going back to her position immediately.

She didn’t stop staring at your face, so horny and beautiful. You know you should be obeying her now, but her slow circles and the wet sound you and her pussy made turned you on even more, you couldn’t wait.

“Hmph- baby please-“ you hold your breath every time the sensation enlarges. Jihyo pushed your clit hard suddenly. “Please what?” “faster.. please..” “I’ll let you feel my frustration for the past nights.” her tone dark, circling even slower now.

“No..” you almost cried. Her touch is soft but firm, every single movement is erotic, especially when it’s your wife who’s doing it. Her cheeks are red, looking sleepy and clingy, you love her when she looks drunk.

“Or maybe if you satisfy me.” seeing your weak horny expression, she melts. Whispering into your ear, her breath brushes your skin, making you shiver.

She planted a pamper kiss on your lips, and after hearing from her, you flipped her so you’re on top, the situation totally opposite. You leaned down for a kiss- firm, hot, intoxicating.

You backed up and leaned to her glistening pussy, “slut” you breathed out. “I’m so sorry for rejecting you all the time,” you said as you stared at her wet slit, licking your lips like you were looking at some kind of gourmet food (she definitely is one). “But I told you not to drink alone..” there was once she hit her head after getting too drunk, you’re always concerned about her.

“I’m sorry baby.. I just missed you so much.. I wanted you to touch me and fuck me and everything..” her voice sounded like she was going to cry, so you decided to stop staring. “That’s why you masturbated while thinking about me? Such a slut you are,” you said and buried your face into her pussy.

You first sucked on her clit and circled it with your tongue, familiar taste, familiar moans, you would’ve gotten used to it.

“Hmph- I’m a fuck I’m a slut.. I’m a fucking slut..” You have always been at the bottom, and now you feel how good it is to be at the top, taking control of everything. Jihyo is definitely drunk, she would never say something like this.

“So I’ll treat you like a one,” you said as you looked up, your wife’s mount built up but still showed her red face.

You grabbed her thighs around your arms, as she held your head to keep you in position. You pushed your tongue into her cunt, paying attention to her voice, and found her sweet spot. Your nose pumps on her erected bud every thrust, driving her crazy.

“Mm yes baby right there.. ah hmph” her moans and your slurps, everything sounded erotic. She pulled your hair and started to grind on your face, her pussy fitting into your mouth perfectly, you know she cumming although you’ve barely started.

Your moans sent vibrations through her spine, she couldn’t hold it anymore and fucked your face faster and faster, her breath unsteady.

“I’m cumming I’m cumming hmph-“ she held her breath before her juice spilled all over your face.

You licked her clean and slept by her side, she hugged you tight, panting. She found her lips on yours in an instant, tasting herself in your mouth.

“Feeling good so far?” you asked. “Yes.. so good.. and now it’s my turn,” she said, one hand holding your head so she could keep kissing you, another squeezing your ass. She smacked it playfully, as you whined into her mouth.

Her hand on your ass moved to your wet clit, your slick wrapped her middle finger immediately. “So wet already?” She breathed in the kiss, kisses were more than usual, probably because she was drunk.

She started circling your clit, not teasing this time, it’s clear that she wants you to cum. Two fingers moved to your entrance, “Can I?” she pulled away and asked.

You nodded in her embrace, so warm but nervous, it has been so long.

Her fingers slowly invaded you, joint by joint, until they were fully in. You gasped when she brushed through your sweet spot, but she kept her hand still for you to get used to the feeling.

“So tight and wet.. need me that bad?” you nodded again. You kissed her as you felt her starting to thrust her fingers, biting her upper lip playfully when she brushed through your g-spot.

“Hmph right there honey” you moaned to your wife, tears rolling down your cheeks to the pillow below. Her thrust was slow, searching for any signs of discomfort on your face, glad that you were enjoying it.

“Call me by my name” her voice low and steady, easing your nervousness through your ears. “Ji-jihyo” your voice so shaky, that her name was barely audible.

“Who am I?” she asked again. “My wife” you responded without hesitation.

“Good girl. Now turn around and let your wife fuck you nice and well.” she pulled her hand out before you could whine and complain.

Obeying her commands, you turned around on your knees and elbows, ass up just for her to see your dripping hole.

“So pretty down there..” she shoved two fingers in again, perfectly hitting your sweet spot.

“Hmph please..” you tried to hold your moan, not to act like a slut, but you failed under her touches.

“Tired at work aren’t you?” Jihyo’s voice is unclear, still sounded drunk. “How does it feel to be back home with your wife on your bed ready?” she sounded angry, somehow.

You heard her voice from behind, although it’s hard to talk, you still have to answer. “I feel so blessed.. and fortunate.. to have someone like you, taking care of everything and aghh-“

She angled up her fingers, making you so close to finish. “Then do you know how I feel when I’m so horny and frustrated, trying to hug you but you push me away?” she sounded even angrier now. “fuck” you cursed in your mind. You know something’s gonna happen when your wife is angry and drunk.

She suddenly sped up, and the sound of your wet cunt echoes. “Aghh hmph please jihyo I’m so close..” your voice hoarse, didn’t answer her question and tried to avoid it.

“You don’t get to cum before you answer.” she slowed down a bit, but was still able to hang you on the edge. You clenched around her fingers, juice leaking out and dropping onto the bedsheet. The smell of sex pheromones spread around the room.

“I’m so sorry I’m really sorry baby, I was just tired and all that- I want you but, my body is not letting me do so-“ you said, almost crying as you clenched your fist onto the bedpost, trying to move your hips to meet her fingers now.

She slapped your ass and left a red mark on your flesh, “who told you you get to move?” you couldn’t help but whine, “Hmph I’m sorry.. please just fuck me-“ your eyes teary, wetting the sheet below.

Seeing you actually started to cry, a sign of guilt flashed across Jihyo’s face, though you couldn’t see it.

“Just remember you’re always a slut for me.. I need you every single night from now on.” she finally sped up her fingers again and stared at your face on the side, checking if you were still crying.

“Hmph please jihyo I’m cumming- don’t stop right there- Aghh..” you clenched around her fingers, whole body tensing up, collapsing after your organism has finished.

Panting, staring at the ceiling as your vision was still blurred. The outside was still bright, but it was dark now. Jihyo wiped away your tears, caressing your face as she lay down next to you, letting you cuddle into her.

She whispered, “Baby, I know you’re tired, don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Do you want to fall asleep like this?” she asked while stroking your hair.

“But I still want more of you..” your face buried in your wife’s chest, speaking weakly.

“I’m always here for you, do whatever you want.”

Hearing from your wife, you started licking her nipple and sucked her chest, leaving bruises everywhere.

The next morning, you wake up with your body sore, it’s your day off, who knows how many rounds the two of you went through again? No one knows, not even yourself. Though Jihyo was pretty embarrassed by what she did last night.

But you know that from now on, you have to save energy for your wife every single night.

[straightcraig]

Nine Sols headcanons and scenarios.

My first post On tumblr. Joy. I suck at wording stuff so if something is misunderstood i'm sorry.

Headcannons(some of them were also written on Reddit almost half a years ago)

1 Eigong didn't understood that there was an actual hatred between Yi and Goumang. She just though it was a friendly bickering like the one she had before becoming head of tiandao council.

2 Lady Ethereal was a fan of horror genre. Either became a fan after Xiaohe showed her or even before.(That changed after the accident)

3 Yanlao was very good at all types of video games. His favourite were claw machines.

4 Goumang has issues with being left behind. Possibly abandoned by her parents. Which also translates to trust issues.

5 Ji could outdrink everybody.

6 Yi gets good at everything when he's drunk even things that he sucks at like cooking(Yi's diet consists of cup noodles and whatever his sister sends him).

7 Yi is THE densest guy on Penglai. He just doesn't understand romance except few romance novels he read and scientific explanations of it.

8 Fu Die and Kuafu tried playing cupid and help Yi find somone, there was alot of problems with it as most girls were very wary due to his status as a Sol and felt very inadequete or Yi being Yi said something that made other hate him. Lady Ethereal almost strangled him when he made another girl cry. She still picked him up like a toddler and shaked him while screaming at him.

9 Lady Ethereal found Yi endearing like a child pretending to be adult. He also made her realise she likes short people.

10 Jiequan is suprisingly a good motivational speaker.

Scenario 1 "mind to mind" (platonic/romantic?(I don't know how romance works.))

Goumang:Just my s$&@#8 luck to run into you of all people.

Yi:(just minding his own buisness while trying to ignore Goumang, which is hard taking into account she's sitting next to him. Why did he chose to sit next to her again)?

Goumang:What are you doing here?

Yi:Am I forbidden from drinking?

Goumang:Well you definitely don't look like you can. You don't act like it either.

Yi:(ouch an indult that strikes both of my insecurities. As ruthles as ever).

Yi:Listen I came here just to have a nice drink in possible quiet and outside of everyone's consistent nagging. So we can either make this a very s$&#@8 evening for everyone involved or we shut up, have our drinks and leave like nothing happened.(Yi wasn't joking Kuafu and Lady Ethereal already gave him a great headache when they tried to get him to meet with another "candidate" and no he wasn't interested in men Jiequan stop asking).

Goumang:Fine but if you pass out don't expect me to help you get back to dorms. You're on your own.

Yi:You think you can keep up with me?(Yi may not look like it but he did outdrink everybody. Ok, almost everybody, the amount of wine Ji drank is scientifically impossible and yet it happened. How did he drink 2 times the body weight of Kuafu is beyond him but honestly he's to scared to ask).

Goumang:Is that a chalenge, shorty?

Yi:I don't know, do you accept it?(Yi was honestly too tired to even question why did he agree to this. He already got stuck for several days while trying to fix many Bugs and glitches in the new systems. Overworking himself and when he was done the Kuafu asked him nicely to come help with something that something being Kuafu playing matchmaker with him. Kuafu might be one of the only friends he has in the council but sometimes his nagging reminds him too much of a mother hen.

Goumang:You're dead.

Spongebob narrator voice:3 bottles later

Goumang(absolutely wasted):I never envied somone as much as I envy you right now. That's why I hate you!

Yi(Dazed after Goumang rant about how much she hates him for taking away her teacher and a rolemodel she never had as a child):...I never felt like I deserved it.

Goumang:...Hah?

Yi(tipsy):I mean yeah I kinda understand that Eigong is interested in me but I never really felt as if I deserved to be in a council or rather not as fast as I did. Like everyone there feels like an hyperinteligent monster. Kuafu helped recreate entire rhizomantic tower system, a technology that was lost after Lear turned his back on science. We had next to nothing about them in terms of technicalities and we were left with their ruins and he reverse engineered entire thing. Jiequan is heir of the kingdom that sparked entire science revolution during the warring era and despite its falls from grace is still the country where science is most prominent(made it up but if we take into account that transmutation is legal in Jie Kingdom I wouldn't be surprised). Lady Ethereal helps created technology that can make mental images into computer ones many of the modern system run on her research. Fuxi and Nuwa basically financed the entire thing while supporting Feng clan which is quite a feat. Yanlao for as much as I hate him is very knowledgable about history and his collection has a lot of past technologies so at least he's useful. Eigong is the leader of entire council, my teacher and knows about science more then all of us. And as for you...

Goumang:...WELL?!

Yi:Your research into biotechnology did basically feed half the Penglai. And you were here before me. So lucky, you were already here making people life easier with science. While I was making small experiments surrounded by ignorant folk and my first experiment almost killed me. Taken under Eigong wings only becouse I survived.

Goumang:...Now you're just trying to make me feel bad about myself for bashing heads with you.

Yi:I see no point in lying about it. Also we should stop here before you forget how to walk.

Goumang(reaches for the fourth bottles):Is that a chalenge?

Yi:Well you said you won't carry me but I can't exactly carry you either.

Goumang:Hah weakling.

Yi(while taking bottle from her):Lightweight.

Goumang:Well now look at us, talking as if were friends.

Yi:Are we?

Goumang:I don't know you're still an annoying shortstack but at least I know you a little bit more then "mr. Steal your teacher"

Yi:...What does that mean?!

Goumang:Do you not know what is a meme?

Yi:(slightly embarrassed)...No.

Goumang:...huh...(hysterical laughter)

Yi:...Yeah that's enough wine for you today.

Scenario 2 "friendly rivaly"

Context:Its been two weeks since Goumang and Yi's heart to heart, and they haven't argued with eachother. No bickering, not even a verbal jab.

Yi:Huh...maybe Heng was right sometimes being honest can make miracles happen. I jinxed it didn't I.

Ruyi:Master Yi am I interrupting something?

Yi:You didn't Ruyi, what is it?

Ruyi:Eigong wished to meet you here in your lab.

Yi:Why my lab specifically.

Ruyi:she didn't mention a reason just that she wanted to speak with you. From her tone I imagine it to be rather important or maybe very personal.

Yi:...Ok, when?

Ruyi:Right now.

Yi:Wait, she's waiting under our door! Why didn't she knock?

Ruyi:She did. Four times infact. However you weren't reacting my Lord, you were just staring into workshop wall.

Yi(in a whisper):Why do I feel existencial dread, its like that one time my mom called me 3 times and I didn't answer.

Ruyi:...should I let her in my lord?

Yi: ah! Yes yes.

Eigong:Hello Yi.

Yi:Good morning, teacher.

Eigong:Its noon Yi.

Yi:Good afternoon then, what is it you wished to talk about.

Eigong:Lets sit Yi.

Yi:Very well. Abacus prepare tea.

Ruyi:Understood-

Eigong:It won't be necessary. I'm just here to ask Yi a question. ... What happened?

Yi:... Teacher may you elaborate?

Eigong:You haven't bickered with eachother and Im a bit worried for relationship of my Students. So what happened? Did you two fight.

Yi:Are you talking about me and Goumang? Nothing happened we just talked with eachother and came to an understanding.

Eigong:Was there a misunderstanding between you I wasn't aware of?

Yi:...Ok, with all due respect teacher. Relationship between me and Goumang was nonexistent up until two weeks ago.

Eigong:???

Yi:Frankly we hated eachother. Well more like she hated me but I was just adding oil to the fire.

Eigong:But you were bickering like an old married couple.

Yi:Yes we... Hold on did you think our screaming matches were just friendly "bickering".

Eigong:...(Nods).

Yi:...And Kuafu calls me the densest guy on all of Penglai.

Eigong:What Kuafu Has to do with anything?

Yi:Absolutely nothing. Going back to your question teacher all you need to know is that we explained stuff between eachother and we won't bicker as much.

Eigong:I'm unsure if that should calm me down or make me more worried.

Yi:...Anything Else?

Eigong:No this will be all thank you for your time Yi.

Yi:No problem teacher.

[midnightdraftqueen]

“Je Suis Là”

Nixon x Reader One-Shot | Romantic & Raw

Warnings: None

As always, this story is based on the dramatized 2001 HBO series - Band of Brothers. This story is not meant to disparage or otherwise belittle the real stories of Easy Company and others that sacrificed their lives in World War II and armed conflicts thereafter.

Paris, 1944

The rain had just started when you stepped off the curb outside the Hôtel Pont Royal, the kind that begins soft and slow, more suggestion than storm. The kind that makes the cobblestones slick and the whole city seem to sigh.

Paris was supposed to be a dream. Liberation. Light. Music in the cafés and kisses by the Seine. But this week had been anything but. You’d patched too many wounds, seen too many wide eyes staring at the ceiling, heard too many voices say the name of someone who wasn’t coming back.

You were awarded a three day furlough to Paris. So you set out with no real plans, just a deep-seated to desire to remember who you were before all of it.

That’s when you saw him—leaning against the corner of the building, collar turned up against the chill, a bottle of something brown dangling from one hand.

Captain Lewis Nixon.

You’d seen him before. Knew him in passing. Intelligence officer with Easy. Always sharp. Always a little drunk. A little haunted.

But tonight, he looked wrecked.

You almost walked past. Almost let him vanish into the rain like the rest of your ghosts. But then he looked up—right at you. And his eyes didn’t slide away. They held.

“Rough night?” you asked, your voice low.

He gave a huff of a laugh. “Rough week. Rough war.”

You took a step closer, boots clicking on the wet stone. “You don’t strike me as the wine type,” you said, eyeing the bottle in his hand.

He tilted the bottle. “I’m not, but it’s what was available and I was hoping it would do the trick.”

You nodded, lips quirking. “Does it ever?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you for a long moment, like he was trying to decide something.

“Want some company?” you asked.

That surprised him. He blinked, then gave a half-shrug. “Sure. Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be.”

“I don’t.”

He gestured vaguely toward the alley beside the hotel. “There’s a little place down the block. Not much, but they serve it cheap.”

You walked with him in silence. The kind that wasn’t heavy, just… open. Like there wasn’t any point pretending either of you were whole tonight.

———

The bar was quiet. Low lights. A chipped piano in the corner someone had given up trying to tune. You slid into a booth across from him. He bought a bottle. Poured two fingers each.

You drank.

You didn’t ask why he was here. Why he wasn’t with his unit. You didn’t have to.

Instead, you asked, “What was she like?”

His hand froze around the glass.

You didn’t apologize. Just held his gaze.

He let out a breath. “Pretty. Smart. Bored, I think.”

You nodded. “She left?”

“Yeah.” A bitter smile. “Took the house. The kid. The dog she hated.”

He swirled his drink. “I’ve only seen my son twice. Once when he was born. Then before Toccoa. I was already in officer training when she found out she was pregnant.”

You listened. Didn’t offer empty condolences. Just let him talk.

“I think I got good at being gone and she got good at living without me.”

You reached for the bottle and topped him off.

He watched you. “What about you? You married?”

You shook your head. “Never found the time.”

“That’s a lie,” he said.

“Maybe,” you said softly. “Maybe I just didn’t want anyone waiting for me.”

He studied you for a long beat. “Smart.”

The rain thickened outside, misting the windows in silver. Inside, the bar faded until it felt like you were the only two people left in Paris.

“I keep thinking,” he said suddenly, “that when this is all over, I won’t know what to do with myself.”

“You will,” you said. “It’ll come back. You’ll come back.”

He looked at you like you were speaking a language he hadn’t heard in years. Then: “You really believe that?”

“I have to.”

Silence. Then—

“Come on,” he said, standing. “Let’s walk.”

———

You walked the river.

The Seine cut the city like a wound, quiet and glittering under the night. Nixon lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it.

“I used to think I’d really be someone,” he said. “That I’d matter.”

“You do.”

He scoffed.

“You matter to your men,” you said. “To Winters.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know,” you murmured. “But it’s still true.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. Eyes tired but sharp. Glassy from the drink. And something deeper, something flickering.

He stopped walking. You stopped with him.

For a moment, the world stilled.

Then he reached out—hesitant, gentle—and brushed a strand of wet hair from your cheek.

“I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.”

You didn’t answer. Just stepped forward and rested your forehead against his.

“I’m here,” you whispered.

“Je suis là,” he echoed, breath warm.

———

You didn’t sleep with him out of pity. And he didn’t kiss you like he was trying to forget.

He kissed you like it was the only real thing left.

Like maybe, for one night, he could come back to himself.

You stayed in his hotel room, curled beneath a threadbare blanket. His hand on your hip. Your breath on his neck. No words.

Morning came slow and soft. Pale gold on the wall.

He looked at you like he might say something, then stopped.

You didn’t push.

You got dressed in silence, smoothed your hair in the mirror, and looked back once before you opened the door.

“You’ll be okay,” you said.

He gave a slow nod. “So will you.”

And that was all.

———

Outside, Paris stirred.

The city was still broken in places. So were you. So was he.

But you’d seen him.

And for one night—that was enough.

[scary-noodlesblog]

I Like You Best

Eyeless Jack x Reader, based off of the song "I Like You Best" by Ella Red

TW: SUGGESTIVE THEMES, SUGGESTIVE SONG, NO SMUT THO, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ALCOHOL INVOLVED

It was finally Halloween. The one time of year everyone in the mansion could go out, as themselves, in public. Jeff and BEN almost always plan something. This year was a karaoke bar, and BEN called ahead to make sure "costumes" were allowed. Slender already gave everyone the okay and their day off, so everyone was getting ready to go.

Well, the human-looking proxies got ready, such as you, Masky and Hoodie. You dressed up as (costume choice), Masky was a zombie, and Hoodie was going as Scorpion from Mortal Kombat. The list of attendees were as follows: you, EJ, BEN, Jeff, Jane, Clockwork, Toby, Masky, and Hoodie.

Once you got to the room BEN rented you took in your surroundings. Alcohol was absolutely everywhere, everything from tequila, to gin, to whiskey, to beer. And there was at least a grand worth of it. Makes sense when your eyeless boyfriend needs probably 6 of them to himself just to get a buzz, let alone drunk. The couch on the right wall was a black leather, you can hear BEN yelling something about a "casting couch". In front of it was a dark brown coffee table with a massive bowl of candy on top. On the left wall was the counter lined with adult beverages. The wall furthest from you had a cooler, presumably with drinks other than alcohol. And lastly, there was a huge TV above the counter. Next to you and the door was the karaoke machine.

Almost everyone immediately headed towards the booze, EJ included, highjacking (pun intended) the Grey Goose. Being the gentlemen he is, he also grabbed you a shot of (alcohol choice, if you dont drink pick a soda).

First up on the karaoke list was BEN of course. He chugged half a bottle of tequila before singing "I Just Had Sex" by The Lonely Island and Akon. Because of course. Jeff tried to be all edgy and sing "In The End" by Black Veil Brides. Neither of them were really good. Jane went up to sing "Without Me" by Halsey and it was beautiful. She couldve been a singer if Jeff hadnt attempted to, ya know, kill her.

After a couple hours, you were cuddling up to Jack as everyone drank and had fun. Masks were off, everyone was chill. Any makeup was messed up. Jack, at this point, had drank approximately 8 or 9 bottles of various alcoholic beverages, he was just starting to reach drunk. BEN has been trying to force you to sing for about an hour at this point, everyone encouraging you, even Jack. Obviously he wont force you though. But Jack's encouragement was slowly giving you confidence.

You timidly stood up and walked over to the machine, you could feel everyone's eyes on you. You input your song of choice (the song above). Holding the microphone to your lips, you stutter, "u-um this is for Jack," a nervous smile reaches your lips. You get a few "aws" from your audience as the music starts.

Da do do do do do do do, do do do

I like you best, when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

And you whisper.

Thats when I like you best

Jack's face was so red you thought his head was going to explode. You couldn't tell if it was the song or the alcohol. BEN and Jeff wolf whistled, Jane and Clockwork cheered you on. Your confidence only builds more.

Hey, how you been? I've been thinking about your skin

When you're pressed up against mine

Word is on the street, chew up everyone you meet

But you take me to cloud nine

Jeff and BEN are teasing Jack now, but he couldn't care less. He was trying his damndest to not get hard. And he wasnt doing a good job at it.

Wine and dine, I'll make you mi-i-i-ine

You do a little twirl with the "mine", giving Jack a smirk. You knew you were in for it when you got home.

Tie me with a rope, no it isn't just a cope

I just like you better when you're cold

You give Jack the "bedroom eyes". Everyone else is cheering you on, even though you and Jack both were basically eye-fucking from across the room. The sexual tension was thick.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper again, staring Jack in the eye sockets.

Thats when I like you best.

Hes growling lowly, no one can hear it but you can tell, his teeth are slightly bared, a snarl forming. You move toward him to tease him as you sing the next bit.

Drooling like a dog, were you one of Pavlov's

On your knees begging for a taste

You gently grab his chin, getting close to his lips.

I'll take you for a spin, baby love isn't a sin

When you look at me, Im your saint

You turn around and saunter back over to the karaoke machine with a smirk, swaying your hips as Jeff and BEN only comment on how hot this is.

Wine and dine, I'll make you mi-i-i-ine

Lean in for a kiss, no it isn't only this

I just like you best that way

You turn around, hand on one hip as you give a big, show winning smile.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper once again.

That's when I like you best

An intrumental plays, giving you time to slowly make your way to your boyfriend, plopping into his lap. Oh its over. He's so hard it puts diamonds to shame. You can feel it, you're not going to be able to walk till New Year's. You lean back and belt out:

I like you best!

Leaning forward again you look into Jack's eye sockets.

I like you best!

Not taking your eyes away from him you close out the song.

I like you best when your head's between my legs

Wrap your fingers around my neck, try to ca-catch your breath

Send kisses down my chest, make the walls turn a bright red

I can't tell if it's a threat

You whisper the last line.

That's when I like you...best

[sloppysequinz]

Mommy Isn’t Home

By popular demand, a well behaved boy assaults his drunk slut mommy when she gets too zonked to know he’s even there.

This one has it all folks: noncon, fauxcest, cum eating, pill abuse, cuckoldry, peeping, piss—you want it, we got it. Read at your own risk for triggers tbh.

Inspired by this post of mine and this post by @soft-mommy-nb. Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your idea for inspiration :)

When Cal got home, the house was quiet. That was weird.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out into the house, dropping his backpack by the door. Usually Mommy would be staggering around the kitchen, gabbing on the phone with some date or friend, well into her pregaming for the evening. But there was no sign of her.

He rounded the corner into the living room and saw why. She was passed out on the couch, sprawled across the cushions with a bottle of wine clasped in her hands.

“Mommy?” He called out. She didn’t respond. He approached her and she didn’t respond to that either. This wasn’t completely unheard of, Mommy occasionally overdid it on her afternoon vodka, but usually her drunken sleep wasn’t this deep. She would rouse to his voice and grin and squint at him and slur and burble a greeting. But it seemed like today she was too far gone to even do that.

Reaching the sofa, Cal realized she was still in her nightie and bathrobe. She hadn’t bothered to dress. Drinking before she got dressed was normal, but never getting dressed? Mommy was proud of her appearance, she liked picking her clothes and makeup every day. This was new. He shook her shoulder, gently calling to her, and her head just nodded to the side. There was a puddle of drool on her chest.

Cal started tidying up. Maybe he could retrace her steps. He gathered the empty wine bottles from around the room, a couple had rolled under the coffee table. Lining them up on the mantle, he counted four empties, plus the one in her hand. That was pretty standard…unless…he turned back towards the couch and gently pulled the one she was clasping free. He held it to his nose and—ugh, yuck, it burned. Sure enough, she’d been putting vodka in the wine again. He hunted around in the couch cushions and found the bottle of Smirnoff 100 proof he’d been expecting. It was half empty. It went on the mantle with the wine.

Cal regarded the row of bottles thoughtfully. As he gazed at them, he lifted the half full bottle of red wine and vodka he’d freed from Mommy’s grasp to his lips and sipped, trying not to wrinkle his nose and cough. Mommy could practically chug this stuff, he didn’t know how.

He relished the heat that flooded his groin as he drank. He wasn’t supposed to, but Mommy looked so gorgeous when she drank…it was hard not to copy her. And when Cal drank, his head went fuzzy with thoughts of Mommy and his cock felt so good to touch….

Cal shook himself from his distraction and continued sipping and pondering. Four and a half bottles of wine fortified with overproof vodka was a lot, definitely more than she usually drank. But last week she’d had a whole box of wine and a bottle to gin and he’d still been able to rouse her enough to get her to stumble from the couch to bed so she could sleep some of it off before her date for that night showed up.

Cal decided to search the rest of the house, bringing the bottle with him. When she regained consciousness, Mommy would think she had drunk it, so he might as well take advantage. It wasn’t every day he got to steal something this strong.

He started with her bedroom. He was expecting to find another empty wine bottle on the nightstand or in the bed, but there weren’t any there. Instead, he found an orange pill bottle on its side on the dresser, rectangular white pills spilled around it. He picked it up and examined it.

“Xanax??!?” He cried in surprise. “Where did she get these!?” Mommy’s dates occasionally gave her presents like this, but she was usually not shy about bragging about them—if not to Cal, then on the phone where he could hear her. She hadn’t said anything about a pill plug. Had she hidden it on purpose? Last time she’d gotten coke, Cal had to hide it after her third night of not sleeping. She’d been mad, but he thought she’d forget, like she forgot most things…

Cal tidied the pills. It took him a minute. The concoction he’d stolen was doing its work. It was starting to get hard to grab things. He giggled and headed back to the living room, swigging as he went. He understood why Mommy did this all the time. It was irresponsible, but alcohol made him feel so good…

Back on the couch, Mommy had slumped onto her side. One of her tits had popped loose from her nightie. Cal stopped and stared. He wasn’t supposed to see this. He sipped from the bottle. He wasn’t supposed to…

Emboldened by the alcohol, he stepped forward and pulled on her nightie. Not much, but it didn’t take much. Just enough for her other tit to pop out. He stepped back quickly.

“I can’t believe I did that…” he mumbled. He took another drink and stared at Mommy’s bare tits. The cogs in his brain, lubricated by booze, slowly began to turn. God knew how many of those pills she’d taken…even half of one was supposed to be enough for the average person, and she didn’t usually do pills. He hadn’t seen any half pills when he cleaned up, so she had done at least one whole one. Knowing her, it was more likely she’d taken at least two.

He took another drink and knelt in front of the couch so he could watch her more closely. Her heavy tits had fallen to either side of her chest. She was drooling again, onto the couch cushions this time. There were hickies on her chest and neck and remnants of last nights makeup on her face. She must have taken the pills really early, right after he left.

Cal took another drink for bravery, then reached out to stroke her soft, squishy thigh. No response. This close, he could smell the booze and perfume and sweat on her, and it was almost as intoxicating as the contents of the bottle he’d pilfered. He leaned back, suddenly ashamed.

Cal would never have told anyone, but he had such dirty thoughts about Mommy. At night, when she was out, he would touch himself imagining the strangers she would let touch her, the drinks she would down. When she came home stumbling drunk with a random men bigger and older and stronger than Cal, he would stroke himself furiously to the sounds they made in the next room. Sometimes he would even sneak over and peek through the crack in the door to watch, touching himself over his underwear so as to not risk being caught naked. When he stole her booze and got himself tipsy, he would even imagine—even worse things, things he was too ashamed to even imagine sober.

Cal took another drink. He could sense the edges of his vision getting fuzzy and his judgement getting worse. Mommy’s body was off limits, but it was right in front of him, and she was so far gone…she probably wouldn’t be back for a while…

Cal chugged from the bottle and gave in. He leaned forward and began to suck on one of Mommy’s tits. His wine-stained saliva drilled over it, but he had drunk enough not to care, and it wasn’t like she would notice. He dropped the wine bottle to grab her other tit, eagerly sucking and massaging them, greedily making the most of what he could steal away from her drunken body. Her only response was to moan slightly and stretch out on the couch—she didn’t wake at all.

“Fuck, Mommy, look how wasted you got,” Cal whispered between desperately gulping at her nipples. He imagined her popping the pills into her mouth, chugging wine, shrugging and popping more. He imagined her washing it all down with vodka. The image made him rock hard and he couldn’t help but rub himself against the sofa, humping through his pants like a desperate puppy.

Mommy shifted again, causing her nightie to ride up and expose her pussy. Cal leaned back from her tits and stared, unfocused. Her bush was unshaven…he wiggled across the floor to get a closer look, still knelt in front of the couch where she slept as a worshipper kneels before an altar.

Fuck, he’d only seen her pussy through the door, or from a distance when her dress really rode up. It was fat and her hair was thick and he could see her slit glistening. He could smell her…it was too much. He buried his nose into her hairy mound, desperate for more of her musky smell. He huffed it like a dog, desperately nuzzling into her cunt. The smell made him drool and his tongue lolled out. He clumsily lapped against the wet folds of her fat pussy, drunk an inexperienced and desperate. She tasted so good. It wasn’t enough to hump against the couch, he felt like he was going to explode. He unzipped his jeans and fumbled for his cock, touching himself to the taste of his Mommy’s cunt.

As he rubbed himself, an idea spilled into his head. He could—no he shouldn’t—but—no this was Mommy, he should—shouldn’t—fuck. He could slide his cock into her exposed wet pussy. He could come inside her. He could fuck Mommy and she would never know.

Drunk on fortified wine and forbidden pussy juice, Cal climbed onto the couch with his Mommy. His cock rubbed against her thighs and he groaned at how soft she was. Unable to stop himself, he crawled over her and started rubbing his hard cock against her exposed pussy. His inexpert oral ministrations had somehow made her even wetter. “I’m sorry Mommy, I’m sorry” he whimpered into her ear. Then he slipped inside her unconscious cunt.

Fuck, she felt like heaven. Cal had never felt anything like this. She was burning hot and wet and tight. His hips jumped and twitched as he helplessly rutted into her like a needy little rabbit, moaning and whining above her. “Mommyyy, Mommyyy, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m drunk Mommy—you just feel too good…”

He wasn’t going to last long. He was going to spill his pathetic, disgusting seed inside of Mommy’s heavenly pussy. What if he knocked her up? The thought made his cock jerk almost painfully. She wouldn’t even know it was his. The men who fucked her, half the time they took the condom off partway through and she was too drunk to notice, and the other half of the time she was too far gone to even suggest a condom. “Fuck, Mommy, you’re such a slut,” he whined breathlessly, red faced and sweating as he spasmed, an orgasm wracking his body. He stayed inside her until his cock finally stopped twitching. Exhausted, he slid off of her and back onto the floor.

Sitting in front of the couch on his knees, he could see his white seed sliding out of Mommy’s cunt. Even though he just came, his cock twitched at the sight. He’d really fucked Mommy. Would she notice? The booze was still clouding his mind. He leaned forward and put his tongue out again, this time drunkenly eating his own cum out of Mommy until it was all gone. She probably wouldn’t notice now.

Cal staggered to his feet, belt and jeans clanking unclasped around his waist. He stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, bringing it back to the living room with him. As clumsy and drunk as he was, he did his best to wipe down and clean up Mommy. He always took good care of her. He loved her. He picked up the mostly empty bottle of red wine and vodka and drained it before setting it on the mantle, doing up his pants, and staggering out of the room, still in disbelief at what he’d done.

Two hours later, Cal was in the kitchen making dinner when he heard movement in the living room. A drunken but melodic voice cried out, “Ah fugg, Ah’m lade!!” Heavy, staggering footsteps thundered down the hall and Cal heard the shower turn on. Mommy was finally conscious—and it sounded like she hadn’t noticed anything. He breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t expected her to, but if she had…God. He would’ve been in trouble.

Half an hour later, Mommy came stumbling into the dining room in a spangly black dress and her silver stripper heels. Her hair was swept up, her makeup was done, and she was definitely still on the sloshed side of inebriation.

“Heeeey Cal!” She slurred, staggering forward to give him a hug. As her tits pressed against his chest, his cock jumped at the memory of sucking them and he ducked his head to the side in shame. She didn’t notice. “Shorry, I didn hear you *hic* get home. A nishe man ad *hic* worg gabe Mommy shome *urp* new……medishin, bud it makes me a lil shleepy.”

“That’s ok.” Cal replied, freeing himself gracefully from her sloppy embrace. He gestured towards the stove. “I’m just making some mac and cheese, do you want some?”

“Awww you’re SUSH a good boy, Cal!” She crooned, patting his cheeks. He blushed deeply, unable to forget how very much he had not been a good boy earlier today. He turned toward the stove and stirred desperately so she wouldn’t see his face.

She was glancing down at her phone anyway. “Ya know Ah’d lub *hic* too bud I can’t. I’be godda *urhp* date.”

“Oh, with who?” Cal asked, as nonchalantly as he could manage. He hated how much he hoped it was the pill guy again.

“Da nishe *hic* man who gabe Mommy the medishin!” She chirped back happily. Cal’s gut fell but his cock twitched. So she might be doing that more often.

A car honked outside. “Have fun!” Cal said.

“Ah will, I alwaysh *hiccup* do.” Mommy replied, heading unsteadily for the door. “Don wait up!” She called over her shoulder as she went out into the night.

But he did wait up. At 3am when the front door opened, Cal was sitting by his cracked bedroom door. He watched as a strange man carried Mommy down the hallway. He stuck his head out after they passed to look at her. Her bare feet dragged behind her on the floor, and her black dress had ridden up above her bare ass. She was making noises—it couldn’t really be described as talking.

“Ahhhhh woooo….heooo *hic*…..*hic*….all…” she mumbled.

“I know, honey.” The man responded. His voice was deep, his tone dismissive. “Don’t worry, we’re at your place.” He looked around, spotting the open door to her bedroom, and dragged her inside. Cal crept up the hall. He heard the shaking of a pill bottle and the man chuckled. “I guess you liked these, huh?”

“Issa….ezz *hic*….ooooo.” Came Mommy’s reply. The man laughed at her. Cal clenched his fist.

“Well, the stuff I gave you tonight is even better.” The man purred. Cal crept closer. From the bathroom hallway, he could see through the open door without being spotted. He hunkered down quietly. The man had thrown Mommy face down on the bed and was sliding her dress even higher up her hips. “C’mon, honey, how about one more for the road?” He said as he undid his pants.

“Uuuurrreeeehh…*hic*” was Mommy’s only response. Cal watched as the stranger freed his enormous cock and stroked it a couple of times before pulling up on Mommy’s hips and thrusting into her. He grunted as he fucked her. His thrusts were powerful, slow, and confident, not at all like the shaky bunny rutting Cal had done earlier that day. Cal’s cock grew hard as he watched. The man kept talking Mommy as he fucked her, even though she was in no state to respond.

“They were *ugh* right about you.” He panted slightly. “You’re an *ungh* miracle. You’ll fuck anybody anywhere, if they *urgh* get you high first. And you never seem to *ugh* get tired of it.” He slapped Mommy’s ass as he thrust into her and Cal’s fist tightened again. The stranger didn’t let up, jackhammering deeper and deeper into his Mommy. “How does your *ungh* cunt still feel so good after I *ugh* spent all night whoring it out?”

The animalistic sounds continued for a few minutes before Cal heard the man let out a visceral groan followed sharp bark of laughter. “Wow, fucking disgusting whore. No one does it like you.” The strange man zipped up his pants and turned away from the unconscious woman. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mommy didn’t respond, but Cal didn’t think the man really expected her to. The stranger strode down the hallway and out the front door, closing it firmly behind him. Cal grabbed a towel and crept into Mommy’s room.

Cal’s Mommy lay on the bed, hips up, arms and legs sloppily splayed out. A stream of piss ws flowing down her thigh into a pool under her on the bed. That must have been why the man laughed. Her dress had been hiked and pulled so her ass, cunt, and tits were all on display. Her eyes were open but rolled back in her head. Cal tiptoed up to her. “Mommy?” He whispered. She didn’t respond. He moved his hand in front of her face—her eyes didn’t track it. Mommy was gone again.

Cal climbed into the bed behind her. Her pussy was red and puffy now, and there was a glob of semen dripping out of it. Cal, full of shame and greed, leaned forward and started licking and swallowing it out of her. She smelled amazing, even stronger than she had earlier. Her cunt stank of sweat and cum on top of her smell. Cal loosed his hard cock from his boxers and humped her satin sheets as he tasted her pussy for the second time today.

It all snapped into being very real for a second. He was eating a stranger’s cum out of his piss-drenched Mommy’s drugged out cunt. The moment of clarity made him cum instantly, all over his Mommy’s legs.

When he had eaten her cunt clean, Cal wiped the cum off her legs and slowly dragged her dress off over her numb and floppy limbs. He would’ve changed the sheets, but he wasn’t strong enough to lift her off the bed. So he put her head on a pillow and pulled the covers over her before kissing her sweetly on the forehead.

“I hope you keep seeing this one, Mommy.” He whispered. “I like him.”

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 56 - Reap What You Sow

Summary: Josie has Deja Vu. Craig squirms at a sweet sight. The silence speaks volumes to Jo. She and Craig continue to bond. A past trauma is explained. Craig reels. A close encounter and some bacon rattles Jo. She soon takes another stab in the heart. Craig gets down to belated business and gives an ominous order. Jo spontaneously reacts to a dream. Lee sees the red.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, alcohol use, anxiety, kidnapping depictions, mob hit

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Salem, Massachusetts

March 23, 2022

You groaned as the sunlight and the sizzling sound and smell of bacon awoke you from your drug induced slumber. As usual, you felt hazy and drunk from the anxiety meds, hence why you never took them and you hadn't a clue how you got in your bed. As you sat up and let your eyes begin to focus, you saw Craig sitting on your couch, sipping on his beloved red wine.

"W...what...time is it??" you mumbled.

"Well hey there sleeping beauty. It's almost noon." he softly spoke with a sweet smile. "Welcome back to earth. How you feeling?"

"Like I went on a drinking binder till all hours of the morning. I'm so thirsty. Wait...have you...been here all night?"

Craig chuckled. "I have. You don't remember getting up in the middle of the night and drinking half a bottle of wine all by yourself as you sat with me and chatted my ears off for over an hour?"

You squinted in thought for a moment. "N..no? I..I did?"

"You did and I told you it wasn't a good idea to drink and you told me to...and I quote...shut my pie hole and use it to drink with you."

Your eyes widened as whispered words slipped through your lips. "Oh my god...it happened again."

"What's that sweetheart?"

"Oh uh...n..nothing. So uh, what exactly did I talk about?" you asked as you began to get out of bed.

Craig swiftly stood in a panic with his hand up in a stop gesture. "No...don't do that! You...you're only wearing some flimsy nightgown. Here, let me get you a robe or a t..towel or...something er other." he rambled with cheeks as red as his wine as he scurried off to the bathroom.

As the sounds of Craig opening and slamming drawers pounded through your apartment, you placed your hand on your chest and looked down, mouth gaping at your attire that bore an eyeful of cleavage and judging by Craig's reaction, he certainly didn't dress you.

He came out empty handed, feeling the heat of his flushed face and sounding as if he had just ran up a flight of stairs. "Yeah so...there's nothing...nothing at all in there Jo, NOT... even... a clean towel."

Holding your sheet over your chest, a curled smirk arose on your lips as you giggled at the big bad mob man who, in that moment, resembled a nervous teenage boy. "I packed most of my stuff remember? and it's still in my car. I think there's a robe behind the door though."

"Oh...right!" he panted and zipped back to the bathroom, leaving you giggling again.

"I take it I put this on last night?" you hollered.

Still panting, he jogged back, held out the robe and looked away. "Yessss. You woke up, said you were hot and went to the bathroom, then came back with...th...that th...thing on...and you refused to cover up saying things like, It's my apartment, I can dress how I want and...stop being a big baby Craigy, it's just like a dress and I argued that it was a very SMALLLL dress."

The memory suddenly surfaced, but the rest was still foggy, such as the so called long conversation you had with him, hoping to god it didn't involve Lee. As you spaced out, trying to remember, your phone beeped from somewhere in the apartment.

"GAHH!" Craig puffed and spun around with his eyes closed as you hopped out of bed, forgetting all about the robe. "COME ON! Jo, put the robe on."

You heard him but you inattentively countered his request as you incautiously bounced around the room, searching for your phone in case it was your mom...or Lee. "Craig, apparently we sat and drank wine and talked for a long time while I wore this, so what does it matter now?"

He turned partially around to side eye you, hands on his hips. "Yeah well, I wasn't comfortable then and it's no different now. In fact, just so you know, I didn't even look at you while we talked. Just stared straight ahead."

Ignoring him as you found your cell, the knife that Lee had plunged deep into your heart twisted. There was not one call or text from Lee. The one you just received was from Landy asking how you were and informing you that Lee finally replied to his well check on him from yesterday with a text at 10 a.m. this morning that simply stated "she's all yours now."

Your prolonged silence and stillness forced Craig's eyes to look at you. "You...ok?"

"Fuck forever it is then." you mumbled and carelessly tossed your phone on the coffee table., then looked right into Craig's eyes. "So, refresh my memory. What did I talk about last night?" you asked, deflecting with a smile as you roughly grabbed up some old flowers from a vase that were from Lee and took them straight to the trash, for your sadness over him was slowly turning into anger.

How could he just walk away like that? To get you back for the time you RIGHTFULLY did it to him? Your head was still spinning as to how quickly the entire conversation with him at the cemetery went sour. Was it your fault? You never planned on telling him all that extra stuff until later, but when he overheard your mom's call about Gerry, everything just blew up. Maybe it WAS your fault. Maybe you shouldn't have went to see Gerry and that kiss would never have happened. Maybe Lee was right, of course he was right, HE was supposed to be your priority, but regardless, you were still extremely hurt and angry that he just abandoned and avoided you and then said what he said to Orlando as well. You thought that maybe the dawn of a new day would have changed his thoughts, that maybe he would regret what happened, but it was now crystal clear he was not budging. Was it really...over?

"Wellll..." Craig began, trying to mentally block the glorious vision of you in the skimpy satin nighty. "It was a mixture of things, mostly about Megan and what she did to you and then you kept apologizing to me again, over and over about Blaise and you cried and then you randomly said something about being locked in a morgue or something? And you also said you were going to go see Peter to tell him his brother got what he deserved, which I HOPE to god you aren't seriously thinking of doing something so insane! Jason would lose his shit! And after that, you didn't want to talk anymore and just got back in bed. Soooo...what was the morgue thing about?"

You froze in place as the entire conversation came back to you. "I...I can't even believe I mentioned that. It's not something I talk about...to anyone."

"Well, you WERE a bit sloshed on the alcohol and anxiety meds cocktail."

"Yeah, true but...if I'm being honest, I'm comfortable with you Craig. I kind of feel like I can tell you anything. I trust you."

"Comfortable....CLEARLY." he stressed with a smirk. "But...that umm, that means a lot Jo, that you trust me after the whole Jason thing."

"Water under the bridge Craig. Speaking of my brother, have you heard from him? He took off with Britt and just vanished. Do you think he may have found Ethan and that's why he's missing too?"

"I haven't, no. Jo, I'm sure if he found Ethan, I'd have Blaise back already."

"Assuming Ethan even has or had her."

Craig sat down and gulped the rest of his wine. You could tell your words upset him.

"I'm sorry Craig. I shouldn't have said that."

"No Jo, you're right. It's all just an assumption. One that makes the most sense, but maybe Liz had someone take her, or maybe Ethan's POS father is involved. Believe me, I've already thought about all this and have some men tailing him and also watching some people Liz knew."

You sat down beside him. "God I wish I could do something. I'm always going to feel like it's my fault, no matter what you say."

Craig smiled his sweet smile and poured more wine. "You ARE doing something. You care for one thing and that means the world to me and...you're here for me too. You have no idea how much that helps me."

You gazed at him for a moment as you made a difficult decision. "Peter....Peter is the one who locked me in the morgue drawer."

Craig nearly choked on the red vintage as he simultaneously swallowed. "Umm, say what now????"

"Yeah, it was years ago. Shortly after we first met and he became dangerously infatuated with me and..."

"I know all about Peter and his psycho daddy because of Jason and he never mentioned that."

"Because it really fucked me up and I made him promise to keep it to himself. I was traumatized enough and didn't want people knowing for many reasons. It's where I developed my fear of small spaces, storms and anxiety and easily blamed a lot of that on Megan."

"I understand that. Storms?"

"Yeah, you don't even want to know what it sounds like inside one of those during a hurricane. I'll just start from the beginning."

Craig put his glass down and took your hand. "You do NOT have to tell me all this Jo."

"I know but...I...I want to. I need to talk about it before it drives me crazier than I already am and like I said...I feel comfortable with you."

The sweet smile came back. "Well, for the record my dear girl, you're not crazy."

He patted your hand and sat back with his wine. "Alright...fire away sweetheart."

"Well, I'll make it as short as possible because as much as I need to talk about it, I don't care to....but maybe if I confront it, the nightmares will stop...maybe even my fears will lessen or go away completely. Jason told me that once."

"Well, if anyone would know about that, it would be him."

"SO..." you began with a heavy sigh. "Once I found out who Peter truly was as a person, I immediately broke off the short and very stupid fling I had with him, but he wouldn't let me cut him loose. There was a bad storm and I was at Gerry's, who was at work. I remember the power had went out and the next thing I knew, I woke up in a dark space that I could hardly move in and it was hard to breathe. The air was tight and I...I could smell the chloroform that Peter used on me. I began to panic as the thunder shook and pounded the cold metal beneath me and then...I felt the vibration of my cell. It was in my pocket and not only was I surprised that Peter missed it, but that there was even a signal inside there. I was able to maneuver myself just enough to pull it out. It was Gerry and answered and told him I didn't know where I was but I was able to describe just enough to him before Peter yanked me out and grabbed my phone.

He wasn't angry, but more in a panic himself and it wasn't because of the phone. It was because I then realized I was in a fucking morgue and I started crying, but I was too weak from the chloroform to get up.

He stood over me and said I had to be quiet or his father would kill us both since Faison hated anything and anyone that involved Jason and he considered me a betrayal by Peter. I guess Faison's father owned the funeral home which was counties away from Salem and he used it for refuge. Peter's plan was to ride the storm out there and then take me away to another country but he didn't expect his father to be there. He told me he was sorry for what he did but he knew I'd never come willingly. He then said I'd have to stay in the drawer until he could figure something out and he put me back in it and said he'd be back soon....but he never came back. I couldn't open it from the inside and I was running out of air and then....I woke up, choking for air in Gerry's arms. I never saw Peter again until the night I was shot and he was finally caught."

Craig stood up and began pacing and ranting with that one little vein popping out of his reddened forehead. "That son of a bitch, waste of space motherfucker! He should have never made it to prison. I always believed Jason would track him down, but the snake always slithered through the cracks. They need a death penalty for kidnapping! Believe me you, there will be no jail time for who took my daughter! I'll be judge, jury and executioner....the grim fucking reaper!"

As Craig turned to make another round of angry steps, you were right there to stop him, placing your hands on his. "Hey...try to calm down before you get a stroke or something."

"Calm down? Jo, all I see is red right now. I can't even imagine what you must have went through but seeing the attack you had last night sure says a lot and now I can't get the image out of my head of how frightened Blaise must be. She's only 4 for fuck's sake and she's with someone she don't know. What will this do to her?? I mean, this happened to you a long time ago and it still affects you."

"But that's the thing Craig. She's so young. There's a good chance she will forget it over time and who knows? Maybe she does know them and she's not scared at all? IF it's Ethan, do you really think he would hurt her?"

"Maybe not, but it doesn't stop my brain from imagining the worst."

"I know. Ughhhh, if I just would have told you right away where she was, you'd have her here right now."

Craig released a breath full of tension and then became calm as he fixed his blues on your teary eyes. "Once again, this is not your fault sweetheart. You had your own shit going on. I'm going to say this one last time and I want you to hear me ok? I don't blame you and I do not think you did it because I kept Jason a secret from you and I am so sorry that I ever accused you of that in the first place. I was out of my mind with grief and 3 bottles of wine."

"THAT you were." you lightly chuckled.

"AND...even then, after how horribly and unforgivably cruel I was to you, you stayed right there and tried to help me. Why...why couldn't we have met sooner?"

A mutual moment of gazing silence occurred and his hand came up, letting his fingertips lightly trace your neck as he pushed your hair back from your shoulder.

"W...what are doing?" you asked as you nervously angled your shoulder away from him.

"Just admiring a very beautiful vision."

You felt your body involuntarily tingle from his touch. He was so close, you could smell the sweet wine on his warm breath and then, maybe it was fate or a sign when the next thing you smelled was burning bacon.

You jumped back, staring at the smoking skillet. "Oh shit, Craig. You forgot about the bacon!"

As he ran to take it off the stove, you just stood there in severe mental anguish, thinking of how the same thing happened with you and Lee more than once when you had became lost in each other.

"Welp, those little piggies went to the market and back again." he jested as he came back to you, noticing how you were fighting back tears. "Hey, what's wrong love?"

You went right for the robe and put it on as you told a white lie. "Oh, uh...n..nothing. It's just the smoke. Burns my eyes."

Craig saw right through the lie. "Seems it is burning more than your eyes. I um...I better get back and let you go about your day. Sorry about the bacon. I'll buy you some more."

"No, don't be sorry." you softly laughed and meant what you said next with a passion. "It's just bacon."

His eyes were sad as he smiled. "Oky doky. I'll...see you later or whenever. And please, whatever you do, please do not go see Peter. It's what he wants and it will just cause you more pain."

"Hey!" you shouted as he turned to leave and pulled him back to hug him. "Thank you. Thank you for what you did. Staying by my side and all. You saved me Craig. I will never forget that."

Shocked like he was that day in the brush when you hugged him, he allowed his arms to return the embrace, only a little bit tighter than before. "You're welcome sweetheart. Just don't forget me either."

He released you, softly stroked your cheek as he smiled and then left.

Once Craig closed his apartment door behind him, his entire demeanor changed. He hurled his jacket across the room, opened another bottle of wine and took out his phone to make a call.

After a few hours of moping in your bed, you retrieved some luggage from your car, took a rust free shower, ate three bowls of honey nut cheerios and a banana, then sat down with the last of Craig's wine and your laptop to release some feelings on your Facebook, in hopes that Lee would see it since he was dismissing your texts and calls.

But as you opened your profile, one thing stuck out to you like a sore thumb. Your relationship status now said single. Immediately, you went to his profile and it said the same and not only that, he had unfriended you.

That knife that was lodged in your heart was ripped all the way out and thrashed right back back in. "Oh my god! You've got to be joking Lee!!"

You slammed the laptop shut and gulped down your wine, but when you went to refill your glass, the bottle was empty and you didn't have any more so now, you stared at it, contemplating if you should go ask Craig for another bottle...or maybe share one with him instead. Why not? You were now single.

Don't fear the reaper eerily echoed through Craig's studio as he poured his wine and gave a merciless command to Jeffrey. It was simple and straight to the point, for Craig was in no mood for chit chat and Jeff knew it. The mobster mostly known as Negan and sometimes John, comfortably kicked back in the chair, intrigued and enthralled, diligently listening as his hazel hues deviously slitted. He was all up for the job.

"It's time for Peter August to be handled. Make it as painful as possible. Fix him." he casually expressed with a matching smile, then knocked back his wine and left the room.

Three minutes of dozing off was just enough to invite the bad dreams right in and prove to you that talking about your traumas only made them worse. Once again, you were back in the cold, black box as the grim reaper slowly stole your breath, waiting for you to take his hand and suddenly, there was panting Peter towering over you, swearing it would be you and him forever. You could still smell his sweat.

Saved by the beep of your phone, you gasped awake. It was Jeffrey, who paused at your door, wanting to stop and talk to you in person, but he had arrangements to make, for Craig's directive wasn't going to be a simple task to pull off. Not even for him.

"Hey darlin. Sorry, something came up. Tail light and the hunting trip will have to wait. Hope you're ok. You never texted me back. talk soon. - J"

"Ok. and I'm fine. Just busy." you quickly replied and then with a spur of the moment decision, you grabbed your keys, feeling that maybe you needed to face the trauma instead.

Lee gulped down his go to Red Bull and hopped in the shower, running late for work due to his late night of consuming the wicked whiskey. Three hours sleep was all he managed to get as he had tossed and turned, unable to erase the vision of your face when he told you goodbye in the cemetery. And then there was Peter. He had seen him walk up to his parent's graves and just stood there....laughing, over and over and over.

He scrubbed faster and harder as the anxiety clawed at him from the inside out. In an effort to kill it, he cranked the water to a scalding temperature. When you had told him Peter wanted you to go see him, it was like someone had thrown red paint in his face because red was all he could see. Peter wasn't responsible for what happened to his parents, but he despised him nonetheless and he wanted him to pay and his idea of that was for Peter to be reunited with his father and brother in hell.

As he finished rinsing the soap from his overly heated skin, he heard laughter again, but this time....it was Jacob's. He spun around and stood frozen.

"J..Jacob? Is that you buddy?"

Silence then filled the bathroom except for the sound of the shower. As he turned to shut it off, Lee witnessed rust water pouring all over his chest. Gasping and yelling, he jumped back, frantically swatting it off of his body. "What the fuck!!"

He quickly shut it off and just stood there, watching the red water swirl down the drain as he remembered you telling him about experiencing the same thing. Was Jacob trying to tell him something just as you had believed he was?

His entire plans for the day had now changed. Lee was no longer going to work. He hated the place anyways and could not have cared less if he was fired. There was somewhere else he wanted...needed...had to go. Someone he needed to finally see face to face and settle the score.

"See you in hell Sam." he whispered to his reflection in the mirror and went on his way.

@redeemer46

[the-font-bandit]

Happy Friday/DADWC! I prompt you with: Rook de Riva/Illario and "You're a liar."

For @dadrunkwriting - Veilguard content!

Rating: Everyone (maybe ever so slightly a pinch of Teen)

Ship: Felana de Riva / Illario Dellamorte

Word-count: 654 words

Content Warning: Alcohol mention

Another Crow party. Maker, Felana de Riva had forgotten just how many of these there were. And how little one could trust anything they poured into a glass. Or the glassware itself, for that matter.

At least this one was to celebrate Viago’s birthday, meaning it was marginally less likely someone would try to poison her.

Slightly.

Still, she brought her own bottle of wine and never let her glass out of her hand. She wouldn’t put it past Viago to poison her himself, with something that was more unpleasant than lethal, as a welcome-home gift now that she was visiting Treviso again.

But the initial merriment had now faded, most of the partygoers heading to beds—alone or together—over the course of the evening.

Only a handful remained, seated in a cluster of chairs in a small side room of the Diamond. Viago seated in a chaise lounge, Teia’s legs draped across his lap as she lay across it. Lucanis leaning against the wall, who seemed to have stayed more for propriety’s sake than anything else while Rook still remained. Or maybe he was keeping a second eye out on both of their glasses.

Neve, Rook’s guest (and a bit of a spy, here to eavesdrop on the other guests while Rook mingled) rested on the other cushion of Rook’s loveseat, looking every bit at home here as she did anywhere.

And impossibly, irritatingly, Illario, in his own armchair.

He kept casting smirking glances at her while no one else was looking. Rook strongly suspected that her presence was the only thing keeping him here, enjoying watching her squirm.

“Let’s play a game,” Teia said, sitting up and stretching.

“It’s getting late,” Rook said, but Teia shook her head.

“Nonsense. There are a few hours until dawn. Viago?”

He looked pained, but seemed to know better than to argue. “One game. But nothing with a board or complicated rules.”

“Of course not.” She picked up her half-drunk wine from the side table where she’d abandoned it. “Something simple. ‘Never have I ever.’”

Rook groaned. “We exhausted this one years ago.” It had been a favorite of Teia’s when they were younger.

“And that was years ago. Just a round or two, then you can all go pour yourselves into bed.”

Surprisingly, it was Neve who shrugged and lifted her own glass. “I’m in.”

“You know it?”

The detective snorted. “I’m fairly certain this game is universal.”

Teia gave a mock toast. “Then you go first.”

Neve grinned. “I’ve never taken a dip—willingly or unwillingly—in the canals of Treviso.”

Viago scowled, Teia laughed, and all of the Crows drank.

The rest of the questions ranged from how many bed partners at one time each had experienced—and wow did Rook not need to know Viago’s answer to that one—to unusual foods they’d tried.

Then it got to Illario.

“I’ve never had indecent thoughts about anyone in this room.” He toasted the air, then drank.

Rook ground her teeth together as Teia’s infectious laugh once more rang out and she clinked glasses with Viago before they both sipped. When Neve drank and Rook gave her a wide-eyed stare, the detective gave her trademark lopsided smile. “What? Have you not seen the rest of the Veilguard?”

Felana hadn’t been watching to see whether Lucanis drank, but they were all watching her too closely. Especially Illario. Her hand stayed still.

“You’re a liar,” Illario said smoothly. And he of all people would know it, after last night. And the one a few weeks before that. And...

She sighed and drank. “Fine, but I’m not saying who. Except that it’s not Viago.”

“Thank goodness,” Viago muttered.

Meanwhile, Illario hid his grin in another sip while he held her gaze with those dark, stormy eyes. He shifted to lean back in his chair, stretching his long legs before him in a carefully crafted idle sprawl.

Ugh.

Indecent thoughts, indeed.

[unreadpoppy]

That Which Lies Beneath - a Minthara x Galatea Medieval AU (Chapter 5)

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

After a few rounds of cards, and many bottles of wine that had been stolen from the cellar, Galatea was positively drunk. 

“I don’t…I don’t know how you’re still…up.” She said, in a slurred speech. The two were sitting on the floor, by the fire, surrounded by pillows, the cards spread in between them, long forgotten. Minthara could not even remember how they got there. 

“The beverages of Menzoberranzan are stronger. This is nothing.” 

“Well, if I ever…go there or…visit your house, remind me not to drink the wine.” Galatea chuckled. “I’d pass out instantly.” 

She smirked playfully, lifting a brow. “Visit my house?” 

“Why, yes…it’s what friends do” she hiccuped “isn’t it?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a lot of friends.” She shrugged. “Do you consider us friends?” 

“Yes. I mean… we have played cards, drank wine and shared stories. That has to count for…for something.” She picked up the rest of the bottle and raised it up. “One last drink. To friendship.” 

Minthara picked up her glass, and raised it too, downing the rest of it in one go. Galatea did the same, but in her state, half of the drink spilled down her face. 

“Oh, fuck me.” She said, trying to wipe the drink from her chin but making more of a mess. 

“Allow me.” Minthara chuckled and crawled over to her, grabbing one of the trains in her dress and dabbing her face with it.

Galatea inhaled deeply, realizing how close they suddenly were. “But…your dress…it’ll stain.”

“I’ll burn this blasted thing once I’m gone. A wine stain will not be a problem.” 

“Okay.” She breathed out, a blush forming on her cheeks and she hoped Minthara wouldn’t notice it. She lifted her hand and traced the tattoo on her neck. “What…what does it mean?” 

Minthara sighed at the touch, Galatea’s sharp nail causing goosebumps. “It’s the symbol of House Baenre.” 

“It’s very pretty…it looks like a-a spiderweb.” She looked into her eyes. “Fitting.” She chuckled and then looked down as Minthara stepped back. 

“Done.” 

“Thank you.” Galatea whispered. 

She nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Galatea. “You should get some sleep. I’ll be on my way.”

“Good…good idea.” The tiefling nodded and took her hand, standing up and stumbling on the bed. Minthara was almost out when she lifted her head to say “Thank you…for tonight.” 

“Of course.” 

She closed the door gently behind her, and when she turned around, she was face to face with Galatea’s younger sister, Briseidas.

“What are you doing here?” The young princess asked, crossing her arms. 

“We were playing cards.” Minthara said plainly, holding her hands behind her back. 

Briseidas eyes narrowed. “Why would you two play cards?” 

“Is she not allowed to play cards?” 

“No.”

“Then why do you care?” 

“Because she’s my sister. And no one’s supposed to be in her room.” 

Minthara eyed her, noticing the uneasiness she had and smirked. “You think I hurt your sister.” She chuckled. “Don’t fret. The times I’ve poisoned entire families, I always began with the annoying little sisters first.” 

Briseidas gulped and her eyes widened and Minthara took a step closer and whispered in her ear “Now, go to your room and leave your sister be. You can talk in the morning.” Minthara brushed past her and marched towards her chambers. 

. 

Galatea woke up the following morning with a splitting headache. Everything hurt: the sun peaking through the window, the sound of the maid entering her room, even the smell of the wine that still clung to her felt like an attack on her nostrils. 

Were it up to her, she’d stay in bed for the rest of the day, but a hand nudged her shoulder. 

“Your highness, the bath is prepared.” The maid said. “You have to go while the water’s still hot.” 

“Let me sleep.” She said, covering her eyes with her arm. 

“I cannot. You’ve already missed breakfast.” The covers were ripped from her and before she could react, the maid beat her with the pillow, like a child would to their sibling. 

That got Galatea to sit up. Her maid, Jenevelle Hallowleaf, looked at her with a mischievous smirk on her face. She had been hired a few years ago, after the princess’s nanny had passed away. Little was known about Jenevelle’s past, as she came from a small village of Selune worshippers, but that hadn’t mattered much to Galatea’s family, so long as she did not speak about Galatea being a tiefling. 

“You do know I could have your head for that.” 

Jenevelle shrugged. “You could, but I doubt you would. Besides, if you don’t bathe, everyone will know you snuck out last night.” 

“How do you-”

“Besides the fact you slept in your costume, I can smell the wine from here.” 

Galatea grumbled something under her breath before standing up and discarting her clothes before walking to the adjacent bathroom where the tub filled with steaming water was. She sighed at the feeling of the water on her skin, and a few seconds later, Jenevelle was beside her, washing her hair. 

“So…how was the ball?” She asked. 

“Curious, are we?” Galatea turned around to look at her with a raised brow. 

“What can I say? I like knowing what happens in these events.” 

“Very well. I didn’t stay long but it was like most balls. Nobles dancing and drinking and young men hounding my sister to get her attention. I was barely able to speak to her.” 

“Speaking of her…I heard a rumor in the servants quarters today-”

“Heard a rumor is your way of saying you were eavesdropping on the other maids?” 

“It’s not my fault they were speaking so loudly and I just happened to be nearby. Anyways, they said that the princess was quite upset.” 

Galatea turned fully around, a frown on her face. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t hear the rest because I had to come here, but the princess was seen crying.”

“Oh, for hells sake.” Galatea sighed. “Hurry up. I have to speak to her.” 

“Of course.” 

. 

Once she was ready, Galatea made her way to Briseidas room. She knocked on the door three times and one of Briseidas lady-in-waitings opened it, letting her inside. 

“Sister.” Briseidas said. She was sitting next to the windowsill, a book in her lap. “What are you doing here?” 

“I want to speak with you. Alone.” 

“Can’t it wait?” 

“No.” 

Briseidas sighed, dismissing her ladies. Galatea walked to her, sitting in an empty space near her, and pushed her veil aside to look at her sister.

“What do you want?” The young princess asked. 

“I was told you were crying. I got worried.” 

She crossed her arms, looking out the window. “What did you hear?” 

“Only that you were upset.” Galatea inched closer to her. “Did something happen last night?” 

“Why do you care? It’s not a matter that concerns you, anyways.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, the gods cursed you with a sister that cares a lot about your well-being.” She reached forward, placing a stray hair of Briseidas’s behind her ear. “Besides, it is unlike you to be like that after a ball.” 

Briseidas looked at her, conflicted. “I…I can’t say what happened.”

“Why not?” The girl shook her head. “Briseidas, if you tell me, I can help you.” 

“You don’t understand, Gal.” She took in a deep breath, and Galatea could see the tears forming in her eyes. “If I say anything-” she hid her face behind her hands as she began to sob, and Galatea brought her close to her chest, shushing her and rubbing her eyes soothingly.  

“Yo-you have to promise me you tell anyone.” Briseidas said, her voice wavering. 

“I promise, now tell me what happened.” 

“That…that drow woman…I-I saw her, walking out of your room.” She sniffed, and Galatea tensed. “Sh-she said she’d poison us all if I said anything.” 

“Minthara said that to you?” 

Briseidas gave her a small, quizzical look before saying “Yes…Lady Baenre didn’t like me questioning her presence.” 

“What did you ask her?” 

“I wondered why she was leaving your room. She said you were playing cards, and then threatened to poison us all if I said anything. I-I got scared.”

Galatea cupped her cheek and smiled softly. “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll make sure of it.”

Briseidas nodded, and hugged her sister.

.

It did not take long for Galatea to find Minthara, as she was in the garden. What she did not expect was for her to be accompanied by Erzoured. 

“What are you doing out of your room, Galatea?” He asked harshly. 

“Father.” She lowered her head. “I need to speak with the Lady Baenre.” 

“And what in the hells could you want with her?” 

“Actually, it was I who sent for her, my lord.” Minthara said. 

He raised a brow. “Indeed? And why have you?”” 

“I, well-” “Lady Baenre is having issue of the…female persuasion, father. You would not understand.” Galatea took a step forward, linking her arms with Minthara and bringing her under her parasol. 

“I see…and was Briseidas not available for that task?” 

“Tis the sort of thing your youngest would not understand, my lord.” 

“Indeed. Besides, my sister is quite indisposed after last night’s ball, we must let her rest.” 

He narrowed his eyes, looking at both of them before rubbing his forehead and sighing. “Alright. But be quick. Lady Baenre and I have much to discuss.” 

“Of course.” Galatea bowed her head and walked away, bringing Minthara along. 

“What is so pressing?” The drow asked, once they were out of earshot from Erzoured. 

“My sister told me she saw you walking out of my room and that you threatened her and our family. Is it true?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea sighed. “What happened, exactly?“

“Does it matter?” 

“To me, yes.” 

Minthara huffed. “Very well. I exited your room and she was outside of it. She thought I had caused you harm and did not believe when I told her we were playing cards. I then said that if I ever decided to poison your family, I’d begin with her, especially if she mentioned it to anyone else.” 

“Minthara.” Galatea said in a scolding tone. “You can’t say things like that to her, she believes them. Had father visited her first, you could have been in trouble.” 

“Your father’s a weak man, he wouldn’t have done anything.” 

“If it were anybody else crying, perhaps. But for her, he’ll do anything.” Galatea sighed and turned to look at Minthara. “I just…we have important plans set in motion. I wouldn’t want them to be compromised by you getting in trouble.” 

Minthara raised a brow. “I do not get in trouble. But…I’ll try to mince my words next time.” 

Galatea smiled, although Minthara could not see due to the heavy veil covering her face. “Thank you. I’ll retire to my chambers, but we can speak after supper.” 

Minthara nodded, with a small smile on her face. “Of course.” 

And with that, Galatea left.

. 

Later that evening, Minthara was sitting in her chambers, after having dinner, waiting for the princess to arrive. She looked at the fire, thinking about what she had to say. 

It didn’t take long for her to hear a knock on the door and to Galatea make her way inside, sitting next to her.

The two stayed silent for a moment, before Minthara said “I shall return home in the next few days. I had already overstayed my welcome and there’s business there I must attend to.” 

“Oh.” 

Then, Minthara added “However, I do want us to continue our conversations, even if it is through the written word.” 

Galatea raised a brow. “Is that your way of saying you want to exchange letters?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea chuckled. “Is there a particular reason for that? Besides keeping each other updated on our plans.” 

She hesitated before answering. “I…enjoy our conversations. I would not like for them to end simply because of distance.” She smirked. “Besides, isn’t that what friends do?” 

“Ah, yes. Friends.” The tiefling smiled and shook her head. “Alright. I’ll write you letters.” 

“Good.” 

[phoenix-and-found-family]

Context: This angsty train wreck right here

Reginald Crane knew that he was drunk. Or, if not drunk, dangerously close to it.

So many different people had sent him alcohol, all of them different varieties and quality. It was probably meant to be a consultation, but every drop just reminded him of their face. Of how happy they were whenever a new agent thought they could out-drink them.

His other selves had chewed him out, saying he shouldn't have taken their agents with him. Incredibly irresponsible, one had said. Why didn't you tell them not to come?

He tried to explain his motives, but the other him cut him off. Look, I understand you care for your agent. We know what that's like. But involving our operatives is against so many protocols that it isn't funny. And they got seriously hurt.

In retrospect, he understood their message. He would have made the same argument if he was on the other side of this. But he remembered how angry he felt, how pissed he was that these other versions were lecturing him about this situation.

What would you have done?! If your agent was the one who got taken, would you have let them go without a fight?! Would you listen to protocol over trying to save them?! Would you just write up their kidnapping as an incident report and then move on?!?

He took another sip from his wine glass before he stopped kidding himself and took a large swig from the bottle.

He didn't notice the door opening until someone walked in.

"Reginald, have you seen Phoenix lately? They aren't answering my calls-"

She stopped when she saw the three open half empty bottles.

"... something... happened to them, didn't it?"

"What makes you say that?"

He replied dryly as he put the bottle down.

"You haven't drank that much alcohol in one sitting since Rising Phoenix."

He sighed.

"They... I messed up, Roxana. They got taken by this woman named Vadas who disabled their tracker and nearly killed two agents who weren't supposed to be there but were because I didn't tell them to leave and now I have no idea where they are or if they're even still alive-"

Prism snapped in his face to get his attention.

"Hey, earth to Crane."

She had a look of fierce intensity, the same look she got whenever she was trying to solve a problem. She saw this as an equation.

"What would they say right now?"

He blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me. If they walked into this office right now, and saw you like this, worried about them, chugging wine, what would they say to you?"

He looked at his desk and smiled against his will.

"Probably ask if they could have some, too."

She smiled.

"Okay, you got me there. But you know what I mean."

He thought about it a moment before answering.

"They would ask me what was wrong. Then they would help me up, talking about something they knew I wouldn't understand just to keep me awake until they got me to the medical wing."

"Would they let you sit here, giving up?"

"...No."

She grabbed his arm with a determined look on her face.

"Then neither am I."

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

@wyvchard guess wat :3

@the-one-and-only-043 it's Reggie having a depressive episode with alcohol involved because idk

[ipostdumbthings]

To Be Cared For

Pairing: Astarion/Tav

Characters: Astarion, F!Tav

Rating: G

Genre: Romantic Fluff

Summary: Tav tries a new way of showing Astarion how much she cares for him.

-----

When Tav had told him that she wanted to surprise him with something, Astarion had thought he had some idea of what it would be. She did like to spoil him when she could, finding fun ways for him to indulge his appetite for blood or nice things. One night she’d offered to get drunk on wine before he drank from her, to see if he could get a little tipsy off the effects in her blood. He somehow didn’t think it all too wise to have a half-drunk on wine Tav half-drunk of blood. Seemed like a recipe for waking up Shadowheart for some emergency healing.

Tav had managed to surprise him today though, or more accurately: baffle him. She’d led him to a secluded room that was almost completely empty save for several buckets, most of which were full of water, a chair in the middle of the room, and a few bottles full of unidentifiable potions sitting nearby. She stood before him positively beaming at him with a ladle in hand. What in the hells was she planning?

He tried to connect the dots, really dug back in the memory to see if any combination of these things could spark some concept of what she had in mind, but he found nothing. Nothing but Tav smiling happily at him, wiggling the ladle a little to get his attention.

“You’ll most definitely want to take your shirt off, just to keep it from getting wet.” She finally spoke after several minutes of his confused expression and her all too eager one. Another moment passed between them before he sighed and tugged his shirt off, which he laid carefully on the ground. 

“What exactly are we to be doing in here, darling?” He asked, his tone curious in a way that made it clear he was prepared to deliver a playful insult based on whatever came out of your mouth next.

“Is it not obvious?” She asked, looking genuinely surprised. She stopped, turned, looked at the buckets, potions, and the chair, then turned back and wiggled the ladle again like that meant something. What did she mean “is it not obvious?” What weird series of firings in that brain of hers had ever led her to this? Was it a sex thing? He banished that thought quickly, not because he didn’t think she was capable of indulging in some strange things, but because she knew he wanted to wait. Ugh, almost made him want to gag from the sheer sentiment, he trusted her too much. 

“Obvious? You’ve got six buckets, a myriad of mystery potions, a shirtless vampire, and a chair. What conclusion am I to draw?” He asked, pitch rising just enough to get across his incredulity.

“You’ll be one step closer to solving that and other mysteries when you take a seat,” she said and paused dramatically, “… in the chair!” With that she stepped to the side and held out her arms  presenting the plain, boring, wooden chair like she’d completed a magic trick. Gods, when did he become this person? The one that actually enjoyed following around some insufferable do-gooder, positively charmed by frivolous her antics?

“I didn’t know it was possible to be affectionately annoyed by someone until I met you,” he said, but he did take the seat so dramatically offered to him. Once he sat down she moved an empty bucket directly behind the chair, then started laboring over a couple of the buckets with water to sit beside him. He’d have offered to help, but he was going to enjoy watching her struggle just a bit, it was a little funny the way she had to almost waddle to get them in place.

“Oh, the decisions you’ve made, Astarion, that have led you to a long future of precisely that,” she said with a feigned ominous air. He was going to be stuck like this for a while wasn’t he? So miserably pleased by how silly she was. Then she rested a hand on the top of his head and gently pushed until it was draped back over the chair. That opportunity was pounced on in the form of a very sweet, upside down kiss. She parted from him and immediately dunked the ladle into a bucket of water, and it suddenly clicked. She was going to wash his hair. 

That was unexpected, a genuine surprise, really. It gave him a weird feeling in his chest that he couldn’t quite place, a feeling that seemed new to him. Not an unwelcome one either, it was comfortable. Safe, even.

“Would you indulge my curiosity? I’ve had a burning question in my mind since the second you buried your fangs in my neck.” She asked and used her free hand to guide the water she poured into his hair away from his face. He was surprised it was still warm, must have had it burning hot when she set all this up to make sure it would be comfortable for him by the time she got started. She worked the water through his hair, and he felt that playful irritation he’d indulged in earlier melt away. He watched her, though she was too busy paying attention to what she was doing to return the gaze. There was tenderness in the dutiful way she took to the task.

“And what would that be, my sweet?” He asked. She flicked her gaze to him with a small smile on her face, and he knew whatever burning curiosity she had, it was not over pressing or dramatic matters. He wasn’t yet sure why, but he found that to be a great relief. With his hair well saturated, she took one of the potion bottles and poured a viscous, yellow fluid onto the palm of her hands.

“How do you manage to style your hair so perfectly without the use of a mirror?” Her question was rewarded with a light laugh. She was far from the first to ask that question, but the truth was rather boring.

“With 200 years of practice, any skill can be honed,” he said simply. She rubbed the liquid between her hands before her gentle fingers worked between the strands of his hair to find his scalp. If he hadn’t already loved her before, that would’ve been when he fell for her. The careful way she massaged the potion in, taking such sweet time to go over every available inch. It wasn’t enough to do it for him, she was making sure to do it right. She was taking care of him.

And in that moment he realized why he hadn’t wanted any serious questions from her, why he hadn’t wanted to dwell on any misery or challenges. This small act of care had rendered him vulnerable in a way that was brand new to him. He’d been forced into vulnerable positions for most of his life, and intimacy was something he’d always traded for security. He hadn’t really ever considered a scenario in which vulnerability might actually be enjoyable, or intimacy free of the baggage of sexuality and transactions.

“I suppose that’s true,” she said, nodding with a smile. She didn’t seem to notice he was staring at her again, watching her and the peaceful joy she wore as she worked. He swallowed hard, a strange lump forming there. 

“Why are we doing this?” He asked in a tone that completely betrayed how fragile he felt this moment was. Her hands froze and she turned her eyes to his concern knitting on her brow.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked and began to pull her hands away, he was quick enough to snatch one by the wrist to stop her. He pulled it close and gave her a soft kiss on the inside of her forearm before directing her hand back to his hair.

“No, please,” he said ever so gently, “I want to continue. It’s just that, well, no one’s done anything like it for me before.” Had he signed up for this too? Along with the affectionate annoyances? Not the shampooing specifically. But… this? He couldn’t think how else to phrase it, even to himself. It felt like an eternity stretched into a moment where he peered into her eyes looking for some kind of assurance. Her hands went back to work, and he knew the answer before she said it.

“I’d be glad to do this sort of thing often if you’ll allow me,” she said, sounding a little tentative. Like she wanted to give him space to assert a boundary. This required none though.

“I would love nothing more, Darling.”

[beatricebat]

for josie/reiner 🍒🍎🥥🧅🫛

‼️👀👀👀‼️ anonymous asks are so intriguing! Thank you.

So, the quick lore is that Miss Josephine Braun is my AOT OC. She does happen to have the same surname as Reiner because that’s what happens in real life, especially with a name that’s as common as dirt. She grew up in a bakery right outside the inner gate of Shiganshina, which I’m sure nothing bad happened to ever. Definitely no dramatic irony in her connecting with Reiner as a cadet, no sirree. She’s from a Quaker-y, Digger-y background - very much about peace and providing and community. She joined the army to become a combat medic with the hopes of eventually saving up enough money to start a family and open her own bakery one day, and…well…that does happen, but there’s a lot of stuff that happens before AND after that to render it kinda moot.

“Quick lore,” I said, like that wasn’t a whole essay. That’s not even all of it. Jesus Christ, this girl is half my age and has deeper lore than I do.

🍒- if your f/o and you spend a day doing anything, anything at all, what would they do and why?

Reiner and Josie are sickeningly basic as a couple. Their perfect day is a hike that involves a section of walking on a beach, where they stop for a picnic. After they finish their hike, they’ll go back to whatever charming cottage B&B they’re staying at, have a shower, walk to the local pub for a hearty meal, and then lay down and look at the stars on their way home. They’ll say “we should do this more often” even though they do it at least once a month.

🍎- what's your f/o's favorite drink? any drink, alcoholic or non alcoholic!

Neither of them really drink alcohol. There’s an SNK Smartpass story where Reiner once got drunk and almost told everyone he was the Armoured Titan (and Bertholdt was the Colossal Titan), which I have adopted into my canon. To me, he didn’t really drink after that. Post-Rumbling, he was tempted to start, but he saw how much Jean drank, and was put off.

The building behind Josie’s family bakery was a brewery, and the smell always made her sick. Instead, she likes ginger ale, and any ginger ale based mocktail. Reiner likes the feel of a beer bottle in his hand, but will usually drink alcohol free versions. They might respectively have a glass a wine and a beer with their pub dinner, but that’s about it.

🥥- what hobbies does your f/o have? is there any hobby they would like to get into that they haven't tried out yet? what is it?

Reiner likes wood. Not a euphemism; just all his hobbies revolve around wood. He’s the one that chops the firewood, that builds the fire, that sits beside the fire to whittle something, that built the shed in the garden, that’s planning to build a log cabin from scratch for them. He’d like to give axe throwing a go, and he’ll probably love it when he does. I don’t think the Scouts are full time diplomats after the Rumbling, and I see Reiner doing something forestry-related too.

🧅- what makes your f/o cry? do they get emotional at sad movies or books? do they only get emotional under very rare circumstances?

Reiner Braun? Crying?

Reiner rarely does a full on weep, but he’ll have to wipe away a tear and do a deep manly sniffle over just about anything.

Reiner in my headcanon is being super into their world’s version of Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table - tales of chivalry and adventure and whatnot. That’s the only fiction he really reads, and it doesn’t make him teary. It’s a little world he can escape into where things are simpler and he’s safe, so he doesn’t want to cry even if a story is sad.

I see Reiner as having a slightly difficult relationship with movies for a few different reasons. I reckon Marley had old school cinemas, where they didn’t do timed screenings of just one film, but they’d have a loop of news and cartoons and shorter and longer films running where cinemagoers could come in and stay as long as they wanted. Reiner liked to go in for a while to sit alone in the dark and not think too hard, but he always ends up leaving whenever the news reels talk about the war or a movie’s plot point hits too close to home.

Also, Karina wouldn’t take him as a kid because she was snobby about it; she would take him to the opera, though. Reiner’s favourite is the Marleyan version of Tristan and Isolde. He adored it as a kid because of the Arthurian stuff, and then as an adult he related to all the stuff about forbidden love and separation. When he finally got a chance to introduce Josie to it, she didn’t quite get it. The details of that story don’t match up closely enough with the details of their own history for her. Nevertheless, she loves that he loves it.

🫛- how does your f/o feel about pet names or nicknames? do they like them? hate them? what are their favorites and least favorites to be called and to use?

These people are, once more, painfully basic. If they use a pet name, it’s mostly either “babe” or “baby.” Reiner does do this thing to make Josie laugh where he’ll call her “my little … [baked good],” but he never prepares what pastry he’s gonna say first so there’s always thinking time baked into his words, which is what really cracks her up.

Reiner started calling Josie “JoJo” back in training when they were just starting to flirt with each other, and it caught on. No one else remembers he started it apart from them, which is their special little secret.

Reiner also despaired when the Paradisians discovered animals, because they wouldn’t stop with reindeer and rhino jokes. However, he always melts a little bit when Josie does her lovebird voice and calls him “my reindeer.”

Now, there are two other little tidbits about nicknames that require some massive LORE DROP to explain. I could leave it out because there’s already three paragraphs up there, but I don’t wanna.

So, you know that Friends of Eldia conference where Eren went AWOL? Well, at the same time he was sloping off, Josie was making her way down to the front and demanding to speak and then announced herself as a Paradisian. Big fuss, whole saga there, ultimately resolved in Josie setting herself up as the Ambassador from Paradis to Marley. There were occasions where her path had to cross with Reiner during this time, and it was a lot of intense period-drama-style icily civil exchanges and fraught looks, and loading all their emotion and drama into the words: “…Ambassador.” “… … …Vice Chief.”

They could not bring themselves to use each other’s actual names again in public until after the fireside chat.

The exception was the one time Josie had to introduce Reiner to someone in Marley, and that someone was her three year old DAUGHTER Nina. The maths on Nina’s conception are extremely fuzzy, and Josie always pointedly says “she’s MY child” whenever anyone tries asking about the paternity. It’s a whole other saga. (These people are basic but DRAMATIC.)

There came a point where Josie couldn’t avoid Reiner and Nina meeting any longer, and she very stiffly told Nina his name (first time she’d said it aloud in a while, ayo) and Nina took to calling him “Mr Reiner.” Nina’s a precociously polite child, mimicking mummy’s diplomatic act because that’s what kids do, and then doubling down when she realises how much praise and attention it got her from the other adults around. Anyway, “Mr Reiner” melted him into a pile of goo to the point where he was like: yeah, that’s my baby now whether she’s mine biologically or not.

[aziraphalalala]

Hey :)

Ask you anything? Okay :D

If you would fall into the back of the bookshop right now and Crowley would be there, staring you down, unblinking, what would you do?

This poured out of me. Thanks, @nerdypixel

--

Aziraphale was gone.

Well, good riddance. Better to have the ugly truth of him come out now, rather than later.

He gave it his all, but it was in vain.

The “I forgive you” still trembled in him, like a wild, hungry thing. It ate at him. It carved him out, left him brittle and broken.

Aziraphale was gone. The fucking Supreme Archangel Aziraphale had fucked off to fucking Heaven and left Crowley alone.

From the backroom sofa, Crowley extended his hand petulantly. Another bottle of Château-neuf-du-Pape 1921 floated unsteadily to him. He uncorked it with a vicious gesture (which was considered rude in the extreme in several cultures, including this one), and drank deeply.

He didn’t need that fucking angel—

“Excuse me?”

“Wot?”

There was a lady. A lady had entered the bookshop. Hadn’t he closed the door? Crowley couldn’t remember.

“Excuse me. Are you Mr. Fell?”

“WOT?”

“The door was open, and it started pouring like the end of the world out there, and me with no umbrella, so I thought, ‘Why don’t I drop in that delightful bookshop in the corner, I’ve always wanted to see it’, and—“

“Do I look like I run a bookshop?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I ssssaid, do I look like I run a bookshop?”

“Um, well. Don’t you? It kinda looks like you do.”

Crowley heaved a heavy sigh, and wobbled up to his feet.

“Nggyyeeeaaaah. I suppose I must do.” He picked up a stray book off the table. Jane Austen. Of course it bloody was. “Umm, so, what was it you said you wanted, exactly?”

She squinted, looking suspicious, and asked: “Are you drunk?”

“No. Yes! A little. What of it?” stammered Crowley.

“Nothing! I don’t mind a tipple myself, now and then.”

She looked half-intrigued, half-ready to escape back into the safety and predictability of English weather. Having been raised with three brothers and a mother with a penchant for bra-burning, she wasn’t easily intimidated. She could deal with a moody bloke. She resolutely stood her ground. 

“Lost someone, did you?”

Crowley’s head snapped up. His mouth was opening and closing, like a fish on dry land, struggling for breath.

Any other day, he would have snapped his fingers, and slung this nosy, too-curious-for-her-own-good insolent woman straight into a vat of acid.

This was not any other day.

This was this day, and he was a post-heartbreak demon, attempting discorporation through tears and extraordinary amounts of alcohol.

“Yeah,” He sighed with visible exhaustion.

“Was he the blond one?”

“Coulda been a she,” he retorted, cheekily.

She levelled a gaze at him, utterly unimpressed.

Crowley stared back, mutely.

“Yeaaahh, the blond one.”

“Was it your fault?”

“Was it my fault?!” he blurted, like spitting out food that tasted rotten.

“He wants to save the world. I think he can’t, and shouldn’t try. I wanted to run away. He wanted to stay. End of story.”

He sat back, indicating he was done arguing, and that he was undeniably right.

She stepped closer, understanding in her eyes. “So, he left you… for a job opportunity?”

“Nngggghhhyyeeaaaah, you could say that.”

“Well, good riddance. If he didn’t choose you, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“He kind of does, you know.”

“Rubbish. I’ve been there, you know, it’s absolutely not worth it. If he’s got an ounce of sense in him—“

“He really kind of doesn’t.”

“—then he’ll come to realise his mistake soon enough, and come crawling back.”

Crowley slumped even deeper into the sofa. Staring at his shoes, he poured himself another generous helping of wine.

“I… hope so.”

“He will, or damn him.”

“He’s just, he’s an angel, you know?”

“He’s really not, if this is how he treats you.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he paused. ”And, if he does come back, I’m gonna make him do the apology dance for a century.”

“Do what now?”

“He will watch the entirety of Golden Girls with me from start to finish. Twisssce,” he hissed.

She looked a little confused, but decided to show support. “Attaboy.”

“Not a boy, but thank you.”

Crowley stoop up abruptly, wobbling a bit, and went to pick up another glass from the tray on the side table.

“He’ssss going to hate it, and he’s going to remember he misses m— sushi, and Shostakovich, and the bloody Sound of music!”

She stepped closer again, pleased that this strange, dark not-a-boy before her was emerging from the worst of his gloom. The rain had stopped.

Crowley wielded the bottle of wine at her like a sword.

“Care for a tipple?”

[dreamersinthedaylightinspo]

Conversation that might happen when Lucien and Helion finds out

- I saw people talking about the nuance of Helion and Lucien being father and son so - here ya go!!

Lucien knew that Helion would come. He waited, watching the sun's lazy journey across the sky. He drank a bottle of wine in his suite, but he didn't leave. He was not going to Helion. He was done groveling in other courts for scraps of belonging. This time, he would not be the victim of his circumstances. Let the High Lord of Day come to him.

The afternoon faded to goldenrod, and the wine was gone, and Lucien was beginning to think he'd miscalculated - when there was a knock at the door.

Lucien got to his feet, half out of habit, and half out of curiosity. Helion was his father, or had fathered him, or something of that nature. He'd seen Helion perhaps a dozen times a week since he'd come to the Day Court and though their conversations were never long or friendly, it was like they were meeting for the first time now. He wanted to know what Helion would say to him. If he'd explain himself. Perhaps he'd embrace Lucien. Perhaps he'd throw Lucien out of the palace and tell him to forget the whole incident ever happened.

After a pregnant pause, Helion stepped into the suites. His eyes were bruised with sleeplessness, his robes slightly disheveled.

"So," said Lucien.

"So," said Helion, in much the same voice. He closed his eyes for a moment. "I suppose you must have a lot of questions for me."

"No."

Helion raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Lucien grinned. He wasn't drunk but he felt like it - he felt -

"I don't give a single solitary shit what you have to say to me," said Lucien. "You're a selfish piece of shit. You care only for yourself. Why should anything change now?"

It was rage. That was what he was feeling. White hot, blinding rage, pulsing in his chest, thrumming in his veins, ringing in his ears. Lucien could not remember the last time he'd been angry. Even when his father - Beron - when they had murdered Jesminda for the crime of loving him. He had never felt so angry as he did when Helion simply folded his hands behind him, and tried to apologize.

"I've treated you poorly," he was saying. "I invited you here as a courtesy and yet -"

"You didn't even bother to speak to me. You treated me like dirt."

Helion’s eyes flashed with irritation. "Oh, come now."

"No, don't be modest." Lucien grinned, and wished that he could grow fangs as Tamlin did. "Admit it. You care less about me now than you did before you learned that you fathered me! You're here saving face. Well, now you can tell everyone that you spoke to me. Go on and lie and tell them about how pleased I am to be part of your little family. Lying is what you do best."

It was gratifying to see how upset Helion was, how hard he was trying to keep his cool. The High Lord of Day barely concealed a sneer as he snapped, "You would rather be Beron's son?"

"I'm my mother's son," Lucien replied. "As far as I'm concerned, I have no father."

At this, Helion's expression darkened.

"You have no right to blame me -"

"You used her," Lucien snapped. "Used her and tossed her away like so many other females before!"

"DO NOT," Helion thundered, "PRESUME TO TELL ME HOW I FEEL."

He had gone too far. Perhaps if he'd had less wine, Lucien would have stopped. His fury burned brilliant within him; he stood, and shouted back: "Was it fun for you!? The chase, the conquest? And when you were done, you threw her back to the wolves like -"

"I loved her."

Though his voice was still harsh, his eyes were far away.

"From the time I was a boy. She was the first person I ever loved. More than anyone."

The emotion in Helion's eyes was genuine. Lucien hated him.

"Oh! Isn't that just wonderful?" Lucien's voice rose to a shout. "Don't lie to me, don't pretend. If you had any -"

"Do you have any idea of hard it was for me?" Helion snarled. "I had no choice! She could not leave and I -"

"For you!? How hard it was for you!?" Lucien roared back. "You self-important piece of shit, you have no idea! You have no fucking idea what my father put her through!"

His voice nearly broke with the force of his anger. Helion seemed slightly stunned - and then, he was resigned. A coldness passed into his features, until Lucien was gazing at a marbled impression of a man.

"Yes," said Helion. "In fact, I do."

And with that, he turned, and walked back out the door.

Lucien turned to the table behind him, seized the empty wine bottle, and hurled it as hard as he could. He hit the door frame and glass rained down around Helion’s heels but the High Lord of Day did not look back. The door to the suite boomed shut, and Lucien was alone in the fading afternoon light once again.