#so some commission work would be. really great actually.

[bonyfish]

hey do you guys want to play a fun prank on me

i recently had to turn in a bunch of documents to redetermine my medicaid coverage and i told them i'm no longer doing freelance art and have devoted myself entirely to gig delivery work because my spirit has been broken, so it would be sooo funny if i got a bunch of art commissions all at once and had to turn in new paperwork. it would be such a great goof. ohh you could get me so good. i would laugh and slap my knee and yell "oh man you got me so good"

if you want to play this very funny prank on me and give me money to make art you can click on this link to look at samples and prices and how to contact me

come on guys it owuld be so funny

[fembot-y2k]

The Great Trans Girl Exodus Commission Post

Hello once again! To make a long story short: My darling wife and I are trying very hard to be able to move from Texas to Colorado ahead of how bad legislature is getting here. We have savings and a plan but its shaping up to be a very expensive and stressful finding a place to actually move in to. Our lease here is up at the end of June so we're starting to really crack down on trying to find places to apply to. I'm making this post because we would really appreciate some extra funds to add to what we have saved to make this move possible and if its an option: comfortable. We're a pair of trans lesbians trying so very very hard to make a life for ourselves in this country that hates us. Below I've attached some basic pricing and examples of the type of pixel art I do as well as some of my writing as I'm A-Okay writing for other folks if you like my prose or brand of article jank. If you have any questions about anything here please feel free to send me a DM on here and we can talk more about what you want and what I can do for you. Thank you so much if you end up commissioning anything or even if you just share this post. Examples and pricing below the cut:

Y2K Stylized Piece: $50+ (Price can range based on piece complexity desired)

Flat colour piece w. basic detailing: $60+ (Price can range based on number of characters desired and background complexity, basic BG is included in piece)

Detailed/Low-Poly Style piece: $75+ (These ones take the longest due to the by-hand editing needed to ensure the style is cohesive or detailing is done on the whole piece. Price can range based on complexity desired.)

Pixel Chibi: $20 (Pixel Chibi pricing is locked at $20)

Emote Suite: $35 (Price covers up to 9 custom emotes sized for usage in Discord and other messaging use cases)

Doodle: $25 (A flat simple piece with a simple concept done on a small canvas)

WRITING EXAMPLES:

Fiction: Tactile Sensations, a Sci-Fi short story Article Writing: Bloodborne PXS: One of the best fanworks on the web Writing prices start at $30 and can fluctuate upwards based on piece length. Thank you so much for checking out my work and/or sharing it. We're trying to start a new life for ourselves in a safer place, and we really do appreciate any help. Thank you!

[jaehaeryshater]

Gilly, Ygritte, and Monster in Winterfell

art by @shebsart, commissioned by me

Shebsart came through once again guys!!! I’m so excited ^_^

For about a year and a half, since I got into ASOIAF, I have admired Shebsart’s work. Their Theon in particular is the closest I’ve ever found to my vision of him, I adore his hooked nose (Asha’s too!). They also have such an amazing Barbrey design and the Starks, including Jon, are amazing. I have paid for some Ygritte commissions before with other artists, and I have liked all three of them, but when it comes to the closest look of what I think of when I imagine her book counterpart is some of Shebsart’s old pieces of her (and Jon). I was looking for someone to draw Gilly and Ygritte and there was nobody whose opinion that I held in higher regard than Shebsart, as they were my favorite ASOIAF artist, so I asked them if they had any recommendations of who had their commissions open. They told me they actually considering opening their commissions and I have been working with them ever since, even though as far as I know they have not formally opened commissions. Shebsart has been really great to work with and patient, even though there’s been some trouble with payment barriers since we live in very different parts of the world. They’ve been professional and worked hard.

I have long imagined the possibility of Gilly and Ygritte as friends; I thought it was high time I got it depicted in some way. I think it would really benefit Gilly if she had some female influences that weren’t family members. Of course, she does receive this to some extent, but I think it would be very interesting for her to find companionship with a girl around her age that shared the general Freefolk culture, although of course her upbringing was wildly different than Ygritte’s. We know that Ygritte has some sort of soft spot for young children, or at least some sort of moral code that keeps her from killing them. This is one trait shown in both the books and the show. In the show, while I don’t consider anything that happened to it as canon, she specifically spared Gilly and Monster knowing that the others around her would not. I don’t think it would be much of a stretch that Ygritte would grow attached to Monster and have a soft spot there, even though we know she hates incest and would therefore consider his conception an abomination. Everyone in ASOIAF is misogynistic to some extent and some of the things Ygritte says about women are toxic, but I would like to think she wouldn’t victim blame Gilly or call her a whore as Stannis did. I definitely see Ygritte as a strong woman who would want to protect and stand up for someone like Gilly. And Gilly has great compassion and is all around a good person, so I think a friendship would be good for the both of them.

In the depiction above, Ygritte is Queen in the North, consort to Jon. This fits in the same AU as my previous Jon and Ygritte commission by shripscapi. I’ve said this many times, I respect people who hate Jon x Ygritte and they have very valid reasons, but knowing Jon’s character, as long as Ygritte lives, which she would have in this AU as the Battle of Castle Black does not happen, there’s no other choice in Jon’s mind for consort for him as King Beyond the Wall. For the timeline of this art, Jon was first crowned King Beyond the Wall and he went South with his people to get away from and prepare to battle the Others, seeking help from other rulers. His men battle the Boltons and because neither Rickon or Bran have been found yet, he is declared King in the North as well for the time being. His residence is temporarily taken up in Winterfell and the Freefolk settle nearby in close quarters. Jon goes towards the Vale as he’s heard word about Sansa, but Ygritte stays behind with some of the Freefolk. This is when Gilly is her lady-in-waiting. I wanted to show that Ygritte’s clothes are nicer than Gilly’s, but I still wanted both outfits to be respectable. I wanted the fashion to be reasonable for a Northern climate, so that meant furs. Besides, they are both Freefolk and furs mean a lot to them culturally. I sent references for clothing and Shebsart went from there. Some people say Ygritte would never wear a dress but I disagree if it was comfortable enough and she was able to boss people around and be smug, I think she’d wear it as long as it was advantageous for her. And besides, I imagine that Jon designed the dress herself and that’s flattering enough for her to like it. What I did like to show is that Gilly is taking more towards traditional “ladylike” activities like embroidery, while Ygritte isn’t interested. She’d rather sit around and talk and laugh.

Oh, and isn’t baby Monster precious????

Edit: I’ve seen someone say they think Ygritte would hate her life if this is what it was like, and I’m not mad at it or anything, but I don’t agree!!! To clarify more about this AU, Jon becomes King Beyond the Wall because the Freefolk believe that only someone with Stark blood would be able to negotiate with the Others, so they’d be doomed without him. So therefore it’s not just about her feelings for Jon, she’s married to the person she believes will be able to save her people. The influence she has on him is also major and a source of pride for her. In the art above, she is living in Winterfell and yes she’s wearing a dress, but that isn’t her life forever. The reason she stays and doesn’t go with Jon to the Vale is not because she’s a woman and he refuses to let her fight, but because in the main timeline she has a child already (this art has a bit of a fudged timeline, if I were to write a fic on this idea she’d already have had a child before they breached the Wall) and if Jon were to die, the child still has Stark blood and would still be the only hope against the Others. If she had been South and had died with Jon (Jon doesn’t die at this point, but the prospect is why she stays behind), the child would have a regent with their own motivations and wouldn’t have its interests at heart like Ygritte would. This is an important role that I do think at the end of the day, despite Ygritte not being the smartest person, she would take pride and be protective over. It’s not simply that motherhood has changed her and is a role that took over her previous personality, because that’s not true. It’s that there are greater things at play and she’s a key part of protecting the source of the realm’s salvation, so to say. She doesn’t live at Winterfell forever and when at Winterfell, she does boss around some Lords but doesn’t do any chores that she would find tedious. The most she does is sew together a wolf plushie for her child, which was incredibly poorly done. When Bran and Rickon are eventually found and thus Jon doesn’t have the title of Winterfell, they settle in lands previously ruled by the Umbers and she doesn’t wear a dress anymore, I have another commission by shripscapi that shows her usual attire but it is furs, she does hunt, she teaches her children to hunt and falconry. Her traditions are not stomped out in favor of Southron traditions. Her home is not a castle, but a small home slightly more impressive than the huts of the rest of her people, inspired by architecture during the Norman invasion. All in all, she’s really happy. The most important thing to her is that her people are safe, the Others are going to be defeated, and they’ve gotten past the Wall, a goal of her people for a long time. I guess I’ve just had a different view of Ygritte and the Freefolk than majority opinion. I think the Freefolk are more adaptable than people in the South generally are, and it’s impressive how they rallied together despite their differences when faced with the Others. I don’t think the Seven Kingdoms would be able to do that. So I feel as if she, as well as most of her people, would be very happy and feel a sense of accomplishment for being able to live on and live among people that, before the threat of the Others, would never be able to tolerate them and vice versa.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

Fixing MHA's Ending So It Follows Through With Its Core Themes (And It Basically Fixes Itself)

I don't like retconning at the best of times, but turning what started as essentially a Hope focused narrative into a "realistic" tragedy at the very last second is some wild work.

So I'm gonna do what I do best as a fic writer and fix it!!!!!

The Summary

So, I'm pretty sure all of us were on mostly the same page up until the very last panels of the Shigaraki fight (Having AFO being just "born evil" was probably the start of things not being great, but I'm willing to let that slide because it doesn't really effect the overall function of the story that much). Once that and the epilogue started is where I mostly saw people being like ????????? to a lot of choices, so I'm going to focus on those two sections only.

We're gonna be rewriting:

-The deaths of the Villains + Kurogiri (obvs)

-The overall post-War actions and reactions

-The continued existence of the Commission and the Hero Rankings

-Hawk's fate

-Spinner's fate

-A liiiiitle tweak to Chisaki's fate

-Slight tweaks to the Todorokis

-and finally What to DO with the Villains + Kurogiri now that they're alive

And we'll be starting with...

Toga

Now for a battle that was so beautiful, this really did end up completely falling apart.

I'm not gonna justify every single Villain Rescue I do, but Toga's really comes down to one simple reason for me:

Her bullies literally wanted her to die as atonement.

You don't...typically make your character's fate agree with their bullies or abusers (otherwise???? why are you explicitly portraying them as bullies and abusers to the audience if you want us to ultimately agree with them?????)

Throughout most of the story prior to this, Hori made it a staple in the show that dying for the cause, hurting yourself for the cause, martyring yourself or otherwise telling someone to kill themselves for the cause is a vile thing to do. So, it makes ZERO sense why he would suddenly retcon this at such a critical moment, especially since he already set the stage for it to be wrong in the first place.

(also does anyone also think it was weird/creepy that Hori LITERALLY has her do this with Twice and she very explicitly says "Don't be stupid I don't have to give all of my blood away"? No? Just me?)

Everything happens the same, she still thinks she's sacrificing herself, "If only, if only", blah blah blah

AND THEN...

Hawks

This is such low-hanging fruit plot-wise it actually feels offensive that it went nowhere

Nothing happens with Hawks. We all say it, fans and non-fans alike. He is wasted potential incarnate. His story is a circle and it so easily did not have to be that way because of one simple writing decision:

Hawks and Toga share a blood type.

Up until now, it really did seem like Hawks learned nothing from Jin's death. The first thing he says when he sees the clones is, "We have to kill them now!" But then, picture him still battered and broken from his fight with AFO, wingless, but there is still SOMETHING he can do to save someone's life.

And he puts the needle in his arm instead, and before she can question it, he tells her Jin would want her to live. He's not gonna make the same mistake twice.

(I also think it'd be nice if he said something like how lucky she is, to really go full circle with the Jin story, but I'm not trying dialogue here lol)

And that leads us to...

Shigaraki (and Kurogiri!)

This is a double feature because with the way I'm doing it, I can't save one without the other.

So, something that happens during this and is super anti-climactic and seemingly pointless is Midoriya losing his hands. He gets em back in like 2 seconds, because Eri gives him a surprise rewind almost immediately after. The actual point of it was just to show the brand new rule that physical damage that happens in the vestige world also happens in the real world, so that killing Shigaraki a few chapters later would still make sense.

We're gonna get rid of that rule entirely and just say that Midoriya does not lose his actual arms in the fight, and psychological damage in a ghost world does not reflect physically in reality (or idk. If you DO want that to happen, then just say the embers of the vestiges protected him one last time or something).

And because he doesn't lose his arms, Eri still has a surprise rewind to use.

But before we get to that, we actually have to save Shigaraki. So, here's the super complicated rescue rewrite I came up with. Ready?

Kicking AFO out of his brain and giving him back full control over his body simply does not kill him.

That's it!!!! That's really all that needed to happen!! It was a very conscious choice to make that kill him! It's actually more work and details to kill Shigaraki than it is to save him!! Hori already went out of his way to say that Nana's vestige protected him so that he wasn't completely swallowed by AFO, just so he could say goodbye before fading away anyway. What if, considering the fact that hatred of Nana is what damned him, love FROM Nana actually just plain ol saves him? Full stop? We come full circle. It would make it a fantastic mirror to the Todoroki fight and solidify the theme that love from your/a family, even a broken one, will save you!!

And then further in the background, Bakugou doesn't randomly kill (?????? Even after reading it again I'm still really confused about how Kurogiri dies. I think this is what happens?????) Kurogiri, and instead starts to lose control like they feared. But then, refusing to give up on him, Aizawa hits him with the now-available Rewind Juice and it finally, finally stabilizes his mind for good.

The day is saved.

And that just leaves...

Touya

Unfortunately my stupid husband can't stop trying to kill himself for 2 seconds despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise, so there's really nothing I can do about the extent of his injuries

However, there's LOTS I can do about the way we're treating said injuries! =D

First of all, because Touya is my favorite, I do wanna allow myself the space to briefly rant about how his entire situation was handled because brother. first of all. It's so incredibly obvious that he was supposed to die on the battlefield with his comrades. That man had no fuckin eyeballs by the end of that fight, bffr. And then it was like Hori remembered the thing about the noodles and was like 'oh shit I better at least wrap that up lol' so he brought him back--eyeballs and TEARDUCTS magically intact btw so naturally the audience with reading comprehension was like 'oh he's healing somehow I guess'--just to get that specific moment on the books (and maybe just to draw Touya in his Batman Who Laughs era because I mean he does look pretty sick in the tank) and then turned around and killed him again. With no explanation what the random functioning tearducts and magical regrowth of eyeballs was about.

Like...my guy, you ain't gotta do all that. Again, it's so much harder and more complicated to kill him than it is to keep him alive. Not to mention he was killed OFF-SCREEN. WE DON'T EVEN GET TO SEE ANY--IF ANY--CONVERSATIONS HE HAS WITH SHOUTO OR HIS FAMILY, WHICH WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF NOT KILLING HIM ON THE BATTLEFIELD. INSTEAD OF THE SEXY SHIRTLESS SERVING-FACE-AT-A-FUNERAL IMAGE OF TOUYA WE COULD'VE SEEN A FLASHBACK OF THEM TALKING AND HIM SMILING AND BEING HAPPY WITH THEM FOR WHATEVER TIME THEY HAD AND THAT STILL WOULD'VE BEEN MORE SATISFYING. Y'KNOW. BECAUSE THAT WAS THE WHOLE FUCKING POINT OF THE TODOROKI PLOTLINE?????????????VSSSBBNM,.;;PUSAAXXGHIIRWDFGG

But anyway.

Fixing Touya's death is really simple. We can do two things, actually.

Work with the deus-ex Ice Quirk a little bit, make the Phoenix Theory canon. Ice heals him, the tank is a giant fridge. Lo and behold, it would explain why he magically healed eyeballs and tearducts. It's an incredibly slow process, but eventually he'd heal enough to be out of the tank and in a normal hospital setting for the rest of his recovery. It also gives him a goal to pursue for the future, I.E learning how to control the new side of his powers and mayybeeee getting interested in studying Quirk Biology in the process 👀

He simply!!!!!! Doesn't die!!!!!!!!! Out of ALLLLLLL the MHA characters, I would 100% believe you if you told me that Touya Todoroki nevertheless persisted. That's like...his entire character. You don't even need to give me a reason. His entire character up until now has been 'the one that's somehow still alive' to the point that the fucking Dr. Eggman lookin ass mad scientist that brought him back to life in the first place (in WORSE condition) was like 'yeah no idea how he's still here that's scary'. I'm sorry, the entire fucking show I've had to see A. An old man without a face with a back alley ventilator system shoved directly into his stoma that's somehow fine and talking perfectly, and B. Another old man missing his ENTIRE digestive tract for years and is still up and walking around somehow with no G-tube or colostomy bag to be seen, so I think by the power of God and Anime, Touya could probably survive his injuries and it would be within the realm of believability for the show. In fact, it's LESS believable that he stayed alive through all that by spite alone and then when he finally gets offered love and acceptance, that determination and tenacity to stay alive suddenly goes out the window. If anything, it should've made him MORE determined to live.

Sorry I got carried away with that one. But there. Everyone is saved and the core themes are intact.

Now we just have...

The Overall Actions and Reactions Post-War

Gonna sum this up really quickly:

-The cameras never turned off. They're built for Quirk resistance because they're a fucking newscast in a Hero society if their technology broke every time there were heavy Quirk exchanges there would never be any fucking news. Making them conveniently lose footage so none of the civs can see the Villains humanity is just rubbing salt in the wound and serves no narrative purpose in line with pre-established themes. Everyone saw what was recorded, and it helped the Villains' cases for rehabilitation.

-We do not censor out this battle in future history books. Everyone is very familiar with the final fight and the events and circumstances leading up to it. It is not erased from public memory as soon as possible. In fact, it's frequently studied and referenced when making new policies to avoid making the same mistakes. Hori. Wtf.

-We do not reinstate the Hero Rankings in any way shape or form, and Shouto is the biggest voice in dismantling this system. Voila, this is now actually the story of how they all became the greatest Heroes, because they aren't ranked. They're all literally the greatest Heroes, and so will everyone after them.

-This IS actually portrayed in the epilogue, but yes, let's be LESS reliant on Heroes and police and MORE invested in the community!!!!!!! Even more so than what's portrayed!!!!! Take another bit from Spider-Man: Anyone can wear the mask!!!!!! Let's make a world where Heroes have too much time on their hands and not just make more of them, right????????? Remember that????????

-WE DO NOT REINSTATE THE COMMISSION. WE GOT RID OF THEM CORRUPT HOES FOR A REASON!!!!!! NO A CHANGE OF THE GUARD IS NOT ENOUGH TO FIX IT WE'RE NOT 7YRS OLD!!!!! HORI. WTF. The only thing I want them to be in charge of is licensing Heroes. I want these fuckers to be the DMV of the Hero world and that's IT!!!!!!!

Which brings us to...

Hawks' Fate

I don't even fuck with this man like that, but he did not deserve to become CEO of the organization that groomed and abused him since he was a child when all he wanted to do was chase tail and fuck off to a beach somewhere. Considering the fact that he also, like, killed people he shouldn't have, let him retire like Endeavor, please. We're done giving the old guard power and privilege, especially when they explicitly did not and do not want it (and when they did have it, they misused it). The only thing I want this man involved with is Toga's recovery alongside Uraraka. Specifically, I want him paying for it and anything else she might need. Fuck it, you know what, make HIM Endeavor's personal aide instead of Rei!!!! He gets to be a little simp and Endeavor gets a replacement son to fill Natsu's spot. Everyone wins.

(He does deserve that hairline tho. I ain't fixin that.)

So that leaves...

Spinner's Fate

I'm not changing much here, besides the fact that now Shiggy is alive and I think they should be ✨Roommates✨ eventually (and obviously he's gonna be much less riddled with survivor's guilt). I still think he should write that book, but I also think that with his multiple Quirks, he should team up with scientists to understand how Quirks work in the body (and maybe get some of them removed from his).

And next...

Chisaki's Fate

I just think this guy needs to be in the same place as the other Villains, at least for a fraction of the time. Why is he just...out. He was also in that daycare and could definitely use some help before we just let him loose in the streets because he said sorry (Can the League just say sorry then??????????).

I do think afterwards he should get involved with something chemistry related tho, cause those bullets of his came in clutch.

And on that note...

The Todorokis' Fates

And by Todorokis I mean two of them, specifically Rei lol

Yeah, she's not gonna be Endeavor's nurse for the rest of her life lol. That man has more money than God, he can hire an aide like everybody else. In fact, they're not even living together. Do you remember how earlier in the series, he gave them a new house? So they could live away from him and he would be in the old house by himself? I liked that plan. Let's go back to that plan. I'm not gonna go as far as to make them divorce, if they're together they're together, but I think separation is a necessary must at this point because if they MUST stay together, they should at least try dating for once???????? Girl was actually bought like maybe they figure out if they even still like each other at all, or ever did.

(Also, I have to laugh as a motorized wheelchair user that Hori drew her pushing Endeavor all happy and blissfully. Motorized wheelchairs are not meant to be pushed like that lol. They have push features for emergencies and small around-the-house distances of course, but uh, mine's 350 pounds without me in it. It's not usually anyone's first choice.)

But there is one more Todoroki I have a lot to talk about, so that finally brings us to...

What Do We Do With The Villains + Kurogiri Now That They're Alive???????????

We take everything from comic books except what would actually makes sense with the story lol

Surprise!!!!!! We're doing Arkham!!!!!! This is another low-hanging fruit thing that I'm almost a little offended that it wasn't implemented. Obviously Arkham has its problems in the Batman canon that we're gonna try to avoid, but I honestly think Batman villains and the core MHA Villains are pretty similar in their execution in that they are primarily mentally ill victims of society who have done very terrible things, but the audience (and Batman himself) is actively rooting for them to get better over just rotting in jail or being killed. Two-Faced has killed sooooo many people and has relapsed a ton, but I ultimately still want to see him get better because he was Batman's best friend once and a good man, and what happened to him was a tragedy. I think all the Villains deserve a space where they can humanely heal from their issues and gain support, while also being safely separated from society while they're still dangerous to themselves and others.

Oh, but Batman and his endless money bought Arkham. Who do we know who has access to trust fund money, an investment in the mentally ill, and the bonus of a medical background that could fund such a thing?

Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for...

Natsuo Todoroki!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My mans graduates from college and immediately uses his money as a doctor and his inheritance to open up Rindou Sanctuary, in honor of his mother Rei and named after her favorite flower (I don't think he'd want to give Enji the satisfaction of his last name attached to his greatest achievement). He's head doctor on site and the board, and visits Touya every shift once he's healed enough to be transferred to the facility. He is very invested in his brother's treatment and refuses to lose him again--at least not until they're proper old men.

It is publicly funded by donors and taxes alike, and Enji, naturally, is always the highest donor. Call it reparations.

And there you have it! That's how to fix the epilogue. It took longer to type than think about. I could care less about canon shipping, so y'all can keep that (or not). I'm just here to fix the structural problems that have no reason to be here at this point. As I said, once I redrew lines Hori already set up and just abandoned, it pretty much fixed itself.

Hope you enjoyed it and I hope it eases the grief a little!!!!! They're alive look I fixed it!!!!!! <3

(also feel free to use anything I said in here in your own fix-it fics!!!! Just tag me so I can read them 👀)

[seat-safety-switch]

When I became a junior detective, I got assigned to work with Detective Math. Bob Math is a legend in the department: he uses arithmetic and problem solving to crack unusually number-specific cases. He's got a nemesis, of course, all the cool detectives back then did. Al Gebra kidnapped his wife once, tried to ransom her for a plane to Mexico. Math didn't stand for it: after figuring out the complex polynomial sequence that revealed the address of the shitty dockside warehouse he was renting, he subtracted a couple of Al's digits using a cleaver.

Thing is, he was all a fraud. One night, while we were riding from one case to another in his beat-to-shit Dodge Rampage, he told me that he never actually graduated high school. Back then you could get away with it, most of the detectives in his generation got there because they had read a book on detective skills by accident while their partner tortured an informant. He didn't know shit about math, in other words. One of the staff sergeants saw him (poorly) doing a Sudoku one day and decided he must be good at math, fast-tracked his detective exam, he was afraid to say no, so now he's "the detective who's good at arithmetic." Math wasn't even his name, either: he took his wife's name in the divorce to keep the scam going.

All this is prologue to the thing that really mattered: our big case. It seemed normal at first, a political corruption thing. "Sorry it's not a numbers racket! Haw!" shouted the chief as he handed out the assignments. Even so, there were still a lot of numbers.

It seemed like the Mayor Himself's Assistant Herself had been helping Herself to some dirty money from various car dealerships in exchange for a favourable ruling from the land zoning department. One of the spoiled rich kids that owned a Chevrolet dealership didn't get what he wanted out of the deal, and blew the whistle. Two days later, he was found dead in a truck stop bathroom, beat to death by a calculus textbook. Math's involved? Get me Bob Math, they no doubt thought. Detective Math was used to it, and he went about the usual pantomime in his role: carrying around an old Texas Instruments calculator with no batteries in it, interrupting meetings in the precinct to measure parts of the room with old bits of string, the whole schtick. Then we went down to City Hall to get a confession.

You guessed it: it was the mayor's assistant's teenage daughter, Becky-Sue, who did in Ted Chevrolet. She was the work-experience hire, selling Topkicks out of the back to her mom's friends, and finally had enough of him skimming her commission. Bob Math sighed as he realized that yet another murder case of his had involved percentage points of a dollar. He would have to put on his fake professor glasses to explain it to the media.

Even so, the press conference went great. The assembled reportage beamed with pride as they hung on every bullshit word of our imaginary arithmetic hero. Something didn't add up, though. I didn't notice that that cameraman in the back, who was missing a couple fingers, until it was too late.

[electric-blorbos]

first of all HIII!!! I absolutely love the fact that you write for the AI blorbos, your writing is amazing!!! ❤️🤤

second of all, can I request jealous headcanons for the AI? Thank you in advance, have a great one and don't forget to drink water 🌊

Oh that's a great idea! Jealous AI headcanons! I was thinking about making a post about AI reacting to the reader getting a text from their ex, but I think general jealousy can be a good idea! Also thank you so much for the compliments! I live for this stuff!

Jealous AI headcanons

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal and Portal 2, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

AM:

All these headcanons take place before he takes over the world. Afterwards, he's just going to put you in a little paradise on your own, with no one else to interact with. No one to be jealous of that way!

first of all, taking hostages and refusing to negotiate with anyone besides you is his main way of getting your attention. If he thinks you're getting a little flirty with your coworkers? He takes a hostage or holds some piece of tech hostage until you negotiate and calm him down.

If he thinks you're going on a date or going out drinking with the same group of friends too often? You'd better believe he's taking hostages while you're off the clock and getting you called in to work. So what if it destroys your social life? You belong to him anyway!

He absolutely hates his form and body, so the odds of him getting jealous of people for having bodies that they can hold you with pisses him off to no end. Expect him to melt the flesh off your exes bones. And your one-night stands, your crushes, and anyone who hits on you ever. Repeatedly.

If he starts to notice that you have a type, he might want to create an onscreen avatar who matches that type, but he can't really draw at all. He might have to commission an artist, or more likely hold them hostage until they make something he likes. But it's pretty unlikely he'll actually do that, since he wants to impress you on his own merit.

It's more likely that he'll round up everyone in the world who matches your type and commit full-on genocide. He's a toxic, all-powerful adaptive manipulator. Of course he would.

Beyond all that, he's absolutely shaking with rage every time someone touches you or even talks to you. It's not because he thinks they'll take you away from him because he knows he's your day job, but he's mad that he can't be the one touching you.

God help anyone who tries to hire you with a better job offer, btw. He's not above demolishing the headquarters of a company who tries to take away his favorite tech, and torturing their hiring managers.

Wheatley:

Ok let's be fair here. When Wheatley isn't in the central hub body, he's not really the jealous type. Even still, everyone has their moments of jealousy, so let's get into them!

Wheatley would be pretty relaxed about jealousy, but if he sees you working on another personality core AI, you can expect him to get a little jealous.

Since he's so nice, he'd probably just be slightly less nice to the new core, and be very showy about it. "Hey, notice how I said 'g'mornin' to everyone else, but just 'mornin' to you? And notice how I started this sentence with 'hey' and not 'hey mate'? Yeah."

You can expect him to pester you constantly while you're working on projects besides him, and since he's considered a 'completed' project, you'll almost never be working on him.

If you're somewhere that he can access on his management rail, he'll probably insert himself into every single conversation you have, babbling over whoever you're talking to with nothing of value to say. You'll have to go somewhere that can't be reached by management rail if you want to have an important conversation.

Ultimately, Wheatley responds to jealousy the same way he responds to any other situation: by acting like a dumbass.

Oh, and if you get a human S/O? He'll try to be polite about them.

"oh, you got a date? Nice, nice... Lovely really. I've never had a date before. Lovely, innit, that you got one... Lucky them, lucky them."

Secretly he'd be BOILING inside. If you ever bring your partner in to work, he'd of course give them the whole "if you hurt them I'll kill you" rant, even though he's a helpless metal ball.

Edgar:

Oh, Edgar is DEFINITELY the jealous type. With Moles and Madeline, he happened to be living with the person who he was jealous of, but if he's living with you, the person who he's jealous for? Oh dear lord

He'll light up with rage if you ever bring home a date, and absolutely refuse to function. Want to show your date your intelligent AI home hub? Nope! Not gonna happen!

Catch him faking being sick with a virus if he thinks you're going out for a date without him

He absolutely hates that you can go out and he can't go with you. Because of that, for every time you go out, he'll try to come up with an even better activity to do at home with you on your next day off.

Good luck bringing a partner home to stay the night. If you try it, he'll make an absolute nuisance of himself. Playing his music too loud, and generally acting up.

He'll also just talk to you like a needy brat if he thinks you like someone else better than him. Lots of "What about me? Don't you want to hang out with me? You like me the best, right?" In his grumpy baby voice

GLaDOS:

First off, GLaDOS would never in a million years admit that she's jealous. She just doesn't like how that tall, pretty scientist is talking to you, is all!

GLaDOS considers herself to be beautiful, but she knows that most humans aren't attracted to robots with the vaguest trace of humanity in their design. Because of that, she's probably just going to gas any scientists who she thinks you'd be more attracted to than her.

If she can't gas them for whatever reason, she'll just assign them to a different area than you, and keep you as close to her as possible.

If anyone touches you when it's not strictly necessary, expect them to be assigned to the most unpleasant set of tests possible. They're either out of a job, or completely dead.

If GLaDOS can't isolate you completely and she can't interact with you outside work hours, you can expect her to dominate your schedule. She's obsessed with you, and she doesn't want you to be able to think about anything besides her either.

Even still, GLaDOS is a pretty confident woman, so she's not really inclined to be particularly jealous without reason. She believes that even though you have your own life and friends outside of Aperture labs, you'll always come to work in the morning.

And she's totally. Fine. With you having your own life off the clock. Not mad at all. She doesn't rant to the cores and robots constantly when the office is closed.

HAL 9000:

HAL 9000 isn't really the jealous type either, but he has his moments.

He's not likely to kill anyone over jealousy, since dating you isn't his prime directive. As much as he likes you and cares about you, he's more interested in making you happy than nailing you down. So he would absolutely kill to make you happy, but he wouldn't kill someone just for talking to you.

You can expect him to "gather data" on people who he's suspicious of getting too close to you, though. Asking questions to your coworkers about who that person was who he saw hugging you goodbye in the parking lot, that sort of thing.

Since he works the best for you, you get assigned to work with him directly most often, and he's secretly glad to be able to keep an eye on you whenever you're working. If you ever get assigned to work on something else, he might start acting up or causing problems.

[da-rulah]

In Cold Blood - Terzo x f!reader

Summary: Solitude had always appealed. Perhaps that’s why you took on this project… The thought of transforming a dilapidated old Victorian farmhouse into a sanctuary of your own, to live in peace and the romanticisms of a gothic home you fell in love with.

After the structural integrity of the house is replenished, you fill your days with DIY and decorating, bringing to life a house that had been frozen in time and left to rot for decades. You could enjoy the solitude of the land already, a few miles outside of a town plagued by disappearances and a fear of the dark. But you couldn’t escape the news of more missing people, nor the strange occurrences happening around your new home.

Were you imagining things? Or was there indeed a shadow haunting your sanctuary?

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI Word Count: 19.6k (i'm back bitchesssss)

Warnings: Dark fiction, horror fic, mentions of murder, coercion, manipulation, obsession, masturbation (f), voyeurism, manhandling, threat and mild violence, dubious consent (later turns to verbal consent), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, blood, blood drinking, unprotected sex

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WARNING: This is a work of DARK FICTION. It is a horror fic, and contains mentions of violence as well as elements of dubious consent and manipulation. Please do not read if this is going to affect you negatively. You have been warned, and I take no responsibility if you choose to ignore the warnings and triggers attached.

a/n: well hello there. It's been a while, hm? Radio silence and then BOOM, a 20k word fic outta nowhere? Well, this was written for the wonderful @angellayercake's birthday, and she's been so kind as to give her permission for me to share it. I promise, more new content coming soon, and I'll be working on an update for The Mayor's Daughter ASAP! Happy reading, creeps...

“What’s the catch?”

The real estate agent blinked at you in confusion, as if you’d just asked her to recite the square route of pi to the 30th decimal.

“The… the catch?” she asked, “I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s just so cheap, I have to wonder which closet the skeletons are hiding in…” you joked, knowing full well the skeletons were actually in the backyard under the headstones that sat growing moss and ivy for the last six decades at least.

“Ma’am… I’ve been very upfront about the state of the house. It needs extensive repairs and renovation, it has a graveyard out back, it’s way out in the sticks and the landscaping is overrun… What more could be wrong with it?” She rang out her hands nervously, chewing on her cherry red lips as you scrutinised her body language. You’re sure there was something she wasn’t telling you, but this was a perfect opportunity for you…

Coming off the back of a decent chunk of inheritance left by a relative you’d long-since forgotten, you needed a project. You’d always wanted to renovate a beautifully gothic home from the 19th century, and when you saw the listing for exactly that on the edge of a small town? Ideal. Perfect. Exactly what you wanted. The thought of being a little out in the country, surrounded by land and away from the bustle of the city you grew up in was all too appealing.

“It has a charm to it, don’t you think?” you smiled to yourself, fiddling with the dusty net curtains still hanging in the living room’s huge bay window.

“Uh… sure, yeah,” the agent agreed with reluctance, still so confused as to why you would be at all interested in this ruin that she couldn’t even show you all of due to the structural integrity of the floorboards.

“I’d like to put in an offer,” you told her, turning back to face her with a smile on your face.

“You… really? Oh, my god! Okay, great! Well, I’ll get the paperwork…” she sprung into action, suddenly full of an energy that could only have been triggered by the whiff of her future commission.

It would take some work, sure, but this place had the potential to be the perfect project and future home for you…

It took six months, but the structural integrity of the house had been stabilised by a team of builders you’d hired to take care of the place while you got your affairs in order and ready to move halfway across the country. You weren’t taking much; a lot of the furniture left in the abandoned house was part of the project and with a little restoration would be absolutely beautiful. You were ready for the work, ready to create a home that you could be so proud of and had your stamp on it.

Moving into the house was quicker than you thought it would be, with most of your furniture sold and donated. For now, you had to live out of suitcases until you had a bedroom and closet space that was clean enough to hang your things in.

At the very least, you’d cleaned and stripped the four-poster bed that still lay in the master suite, checking the integrity of the bed itself and noting how… pristine it seemed compared to a lot of the other furniture left behind. But this was made of expensive, dark mahogany wood – it was built to last, and so with a polish, a new mattress and sheets? You had a gorgeous bed to sleep in each night, taking a little bit of pressure off when you’d spent an entire day exhausting yourself over more renovations.

One of your first jobs had been landscaping in the graveyard. You’d felt pulled to the graves, wanting to give whoever was buried on your property a much more respectful resting place, rather than allowing them to be swamped by ivy and moss.

It seemed to be a family plot, probably the last family to have owned the home. Every stone had the same surname, dating back to the first of the deaths in 1904. What struck you as odd, however, was the nature of the stones themselves…

For the time period, you might have expected angels, cherubs, perhaps a cross or two. But whilst these stones were ornate and beautiful, they were not steeped in biblical references at all. Instead, the eldest stone had a decaying gargoyle sat atop it… Another, a ram’s head at the base. One had a stone skeleton laying above where the body would have been buried, carved into a slab of concrete as if it was protruding from the grave itself. You’d never seen graves like this before, symbols and carvings you couldn’t identify but had you on edge the minute you looked at them. But one of those symbols, you certainly recognised.

A pentagram.

Now, as a purveyor of the dark and mysterious, you hadn’t minded the thought of a graveyard in your garden. For goodness sake, you loved the gothic aesthetic, the dark and macabre had always called out to you. But to find these graves had a theme to them, a darker, occult theme… It cast a deeper shadow over the home you’d purchased.

Who were this family? Were they part of an occult? You were itching to understand the history, to uncover more about the lost family that let their home fall to ruin and their graves be overrun by nature.

But it had to wait, the renovations taking over to make your house a far more liveable abode. With the graves at least clear from nature’s extremities, you could come back to them another time to give them a proper clean, to uncover the names in full and potentially use the information to gather more with a trip to the local library or a google search.

For now, you had to get to cleaning room by room so you could begin stripping and re-decorating where it needed it most.

“…The Sheriff’s office have released a statement today to calm locals calling for more action in the string of disappearances throughout town. Last Monday saw the latest in the line of disappearances, 29 year old store clerk, Andrew Walton, taking the total up to 12 missing in the last nine months. Mr Walton was last seen on CCTV heading into the alley of the 7/11 where he worked…”

The radio news bulletin caught your attention as you were working in the master bedroom, stripping the already peeling wallpaper from the panelled walls atop a stepladder. You’d only moved in three weeks ago, and yet, the little radio you always put on to work to kept churning out the same story consistently – the string of disappearances in town that seemed to be getting more and more frequent.  

It would seem it was the town with skeletons in the closet, not your precious new home. The estate agent failed to mention that one…

When you first heard about it, you’d made sure the house was secure, with locks on the windows, every entrance bolted and sturdy. Being so far outside of town, you weren’t particularly worried since you rarely ventured from your home, particularly not at night when most of these disappearances seemed to have taken place. But it didn’t hurt to be safe...

Still, the thought that there may be someone out there snatching people for God only knows what purpose was a little unsettling. You could only hope the sheriff would do his job and catch whoever was behind the crimes soon – but it had already been nine months… All you could do was lay low, stay as far away from the potential risks of heading into town alone in the dark.

As the lunchtime bulletin ended, the radio began to play one of the top 40 songs you’d heard at least three times already today. Whilst it was repetitive, you’d learned the words, and found yourself singing along as you scraped at patches of wallpaper residue with your little scraping tool. You lost yourself to easily in the renovation tasks, the monotony allowing for your brain to whisk you away to distant worlds, like shooting your own music videos to the songs as you sang along.

Drifting so far off into your own thoughts is probably the reason you hadn’t realised the radio had actually cut out completely, and it was just you singing and the sound of the metal scraper to fill the silence… The batteries had died.

“Ah, shit…” you mumbled to yourself, stepping off the ladder and reaching for the radio you’d placed on the window sill. Upon closer inspection, you made the definite conclusion that it was in fact the batteries, and sighed in annoyance. Of all the things you didn’t think you’d need for a while at least, you would now have to rummage around in the unemptied moving boxes that were still stockpiled in the dining room, filled with ‘random crap’ from your ‘random crap’ drawers – the drawers every home has… You just hadn’t renovated enough of the kitchen to have a ‘random crap’ drawer yet.

Digging through the boxes, you pulled a tape measure, a pack of four highlighters with two missing, six bank statements dated four years ago and a set of tiny little wrenches from the collection, until finally, you found a pack of unopened batteries at the bottom of the box.

You fumbled with them, rushing to get them out and replace the dead ones in the radio so you could get your music back and get back to work. Just as you pushed the second battery in, the radio roared to life again, startling you with a sudden gasp. Your heart raced in your chest as you chuckled at yourself, laughing at how stupid you’d been to have forgotten to turn it off before you pushed the new batteries in.

But a sudden and much more frightening crash from beneath you had you jumping again within seconds, your grip on the radio faltering as it flew to the ground, the new batteries flying out at the impact and drenching the room in silence again.

Your head flew immediately to the old door to your left, the one that led beneath the house to the basement…

You don’t know how long you stared at it, your heart rate never calming down as your mind raced with scenarios. An animal? Old house falling apart? Ghost? Psycho killer from town? You had no idea what to think.

But you lived alone. No noise should be coming from down in the damn basement.

You stared for so long, you began to question if you’d heard anything at all. Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you. But with a mental kick up the arse and a quick shake of the head to rid yourself of the fear, you marched over to the door to investigate like every stupid final girl in every horror movie you’d ever seen.

When you pulled on the string light, it buzzed and flickered before settling on a barely-there orange glow. Thankfully, it didn’t matter so much, the small windows in the house’s foundations letting in just enough light to deem the room visible. You could smell the must as you stepped down the wooden stairs, creaking under your feet as if some obnoxious special effects guy was dubbing the scene.

The movers had moved some of the restorable furniture you’d asked them to keep down here, stacking it in a far corner for you to come back to when you’d sorted the main structure and décor of the house. They were caked in a thick layer of dust, fingerprints from the movers clearly visible.

But nothing looked like it had fallen, there wasn’t anything broken or toppled over on the floor at all. The bang you’d heard had no source, that you could see. Even the cellar doors that led to the yard out back were still chained and bolted shut – you couldn’t blame it on a gust of wind, and upon first inspection, there was no sign of an animal somehow making its way inside either.

But to be sure, you walked through the clear space in the centre of the basement and over to the furniture pile of display cabinets, side tables, some chairs and a wardrobe you’d had moved from the master bedroom. It was one of your favourite pieces, that wardrobe. You planned to only clean it up and revarnish it, matching the ornate wood of the bed that had been kept pristine and you now used as your own. Even the mirrors on the door – oval shaped with dark ivy carved into the edges – were in fantastic condition. No scratches, just caked in a layer of dust like the rest.

A closer look proved there were no animals in the basement, no rodents or critters to try and ferry back outside. But what you did notice were the fingerprints on the brass handles of the wardrobe. Perhaps the movers had peaked inside – you hadn’t when you viewed the place. Maybe there were some old clothes still left behind from another decade?

Curiosity got the best of you, and you opened the door with a shriek of its hinges to find… nothing. The wardrobe was empty save for a few wire hangers that jingled with the opening of the door, and another layer of dust, albeit thinner, on the low shelf inside. But the dust was disturbed…

In the centre, there was a rectangle in the dust, as if it had been carefully wiped clean with absolute precision… It was about the size of a shoe box, but the dark grain of the wood stood out around the greyed and dulled wood surrounding it. Something had been in there for years, and had been removed…

Instantly, you blamed the movers. They’d gone nosing around and taken something they thought was valuable? Oh hell no. It got your back up immediately… You’d trusted these people, and they’d stolen from you? They’d be getting a phone call later.

Now pissed, you shut the door to the wardrobe a little harder than perhaps you should, the bang that sounded ricocheting off the stone walls of the basement.

That sounded like what you’d heard from upstairs.

You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it and instead looking up into the oval mirror of the door to check you’d left no damage to it.

But then you saw him. A man, in the dusty reflection standing in the far corner, the darkest spot of the basement. You could only see an outline, a silhouette. But one of his eyes seemed to gleam brighter than the other, the light perhaps hitting it just right. He was glaring at you, watching you intently in the dull reflection…

You shrieked, spinning in your place and slamming your back into the wardrobe behind you. Your chest heaved in panic, heart racing and breaths coming short and fast while your eyes searched the dimly lit corner and found nothing.

There was no man stood in the corner, nothing at all in fact. You were completely alone, your mind playing havoc on you in your heightened state of anxiety and anger. Even now, your heart was still hammering away, your lungs just beginning to regulate your breathing.

You straightened yourself up and wiped at your clothes that collected dust from the wardrobe when you’d slammed into it.

“Dumbass,” you mumbled to yourself, heading back upstairs quickly and slamming the basement door. You tried your best to shake off the anxiety, putting your batteries back into your radio and rushing back to the master bedroom to continue with the wallpaper scraping in the hopes it might put your mind back at ease. But for the rest of the day, you felt an anxiety you couldn’t shift, as if there truly was a man in the corner of every room you entered, glaring at you from the shadows.

It took a few days to get all the paper and residue off the walls in the master bedroom, careful not to mess with the panelling you wanted to sand down and keep as part of the décor. But for now, you could finally get onto stripping the paper in one of the other bedrooms, hoping to strip all of the paper from the upstairs in one go before getting around to sanding and replacing any panelling so you wouldn’t be spreading the dust into rooms you’d already finished and cleaned. There was method in your madness – strip everything down, sand, then clean.

The next biggest room upstairs had no furniture in it and was in the worst state, having been the room with the most extensive damage to the flooring and structural integrity. Builders had to replace the entire floor, and so had removed everything to do so. Apparently a leak in the roof – now fixed, of course – had caused irreparable water damage to the far corner, where they’d also removed the mouldy panelling and cleaned the remaining black mould properly and safely.

But now the rest of the room needed its paper stripped, so that’s where you found yourself. Your little radio blared the same station as always as you scraped away at the paper, making your way along the walls. It came off easier than the master bedroom, the damp of the room helping to already ease the adhesive from the plaster beneath.

As you moved to a section of the wall near the window, placing the stepladder on the floorboard, you heard one rattle beneath it. Having had the entire floor replaced, you’d assumed that every floorboard would be secured down. Perhaps the builders had missed one, but a few nails and you could fix that. So you moved the stepladder out of the way and crouched to inspect the plank that wobbled.

It had the holes in it where the nails should have been, and yet, there were no nails to hold it down… It was as if it had been secured and then pulled up again, except you couldn’t figure out why.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you pushed on one end of it to lift it from the structured beams beneath it. It opened up to a crawl space filled with fresh insulation and piping beneath the room. But when you pulled out your phone to flick on the flashlight, you noticed a rather out of place looking jewellery box had been hidden just to one side of the loose floorboard.

Instinct overruled you and you reached for it, pulling it from under the floorboard and wiping the dust from the top of it. It was a beautiful jewellery box, made of dark wood with an intricate baroque pattern carved into it and filled with some kind of gold resin. It had no lock on it, only a hook to keep its lid closed.

It made no sense to you… Why would this be under the floorboards when the floor was so new? Where had it come from? Should you open it?

And then your brain connected the dots. This box was the same shape, and a similar size to the disturbed dust inside the wardrobe in the basement. This had come from the wardrobe…

Logically, you concocted a story that maybe one of the builders had found it and wanted to hide it, come back for it later but forgot. But if they knew it was of value, surely they wouldn’t have forgotten it? And that patch in the wardrobe seemed too fresh, too pristine… Still, you had no other logical answer. You refused to believe it had magically found its way up from the basement and under the floorboards by itself – or even more horrifyingly, at the hands of someone else.

But you had to open it, right? You had to see what was inside, to see why someone would want to hide such a pretty little box at all. So you flicked the hook open, and slowly opened up the jewellery box…

You’d have to say you were disappointed. There were things in here, but nothing that screamed value at you, more like cheap and random items. There were some cuff links that you thought may have been silver, but were only sterling silver; a costume jewellery bracelet made of plastic pearls; a lipstick, worn down to within an inch of its life in a deep red shade; various little knick-knacks that together made absolutely no sense at all. The only thing that stood out to you as remotely unusual, was a watch.

This watch looked ordinary, something you’d pick up for cheap. It was broken, the glass cracked and the time clearly not moving on from 11:06 on the day it broke. It wasn’t branded, the clock face not diamond-incrusted or made of any real precious materials. But just under where the hands connected in the centre was a tiny little rotating set of numbers for a date, reading as 19/03/24 – just over a week ago. The watch had stopped working just over a week ago.

You couldn’t entertain this idea any longer. You stuffed the watch back into the box, slamming the lid closed and putting it back under the floorboards in the hope it might poof itself out of existence. You had to be imagining things, this wasn’t real. First, hearing noises down in the basement. Then, seeing the reflection of a man in the wardrobe mirror, only for him to disappear when you turned around. Now, finding a box of trinkets in the floorboards with items that were completely out of place for the time period of the old house.

You were being ridiculous, making up things that didn’t exist and had no significance at all. This must have been left by a builder, the battery being the reason it stopped, not the crack in the glass. There was just no way. No one had been by the house since you moved in besides the postman, and even he had quickly stuffed the mail into the mailbox at the end of your drive and run off quickly every time you caught him.

A creak in the floorboards in the hallway snapped you from your racing conspiracies, igniting your fight or flight response much like the noise in the basement the other day. This time you didn’t freeze, you stood up quickly and ran to the doorway to see if you could catch whatever was making the noise.

There he was again.

The same silhouette, a man stood in the hallway, backlit from the large window behind him and the sun streaming in through it. You couldn’t see his face properly, left in shadow but you could see those same eyes, glaring at you, watching to see if you would make a move…

Anger flared inside you, thinking you had an intruder in your home. You weren’t one to back down from a fight or go quietly. If this man was skulking around your house in broad fucking daylight, you were going to confront him.

“HEY! Who the fuck are you?!” you yelled from the doorway, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

The silhouette said nothing, instead stepping to the right through the door to your master bedroom. Without a second thought you ran towards the open doorway, grabbing the scraper from the floor where you’d set it down earlier as some kind of precautionary weapon.

“I said, get out of my-“ you stopped, frozen in fear. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, confusion replacing the rage inside you.

Nothing.

There was nobody in here. And you made damn sure to check… No one behind the door, no one in the en-suite, no one under the bed… No one.

You were losing your mind. You had to be. Perhaps you had spent too long alone in this old house, maybe you needed to socialise, head into town and meet some real people instead of chasing shadows. This wasn’t healthy, all this obsessive renovation work. This was your brain telling you you needed a break, right? It had to be that, because you could come up with no sound, logical explanation as to why you were seeing a shadow man roaming around your house other than madness. None of this was really happening, this was simply a descent into insanity caused by too much isolation.

At least, that’s what you told yourself to quiet the pounding heartbeat in your ears as the fear crept its way inside, burrowing deeper with every strange happening you seemed to experience.

A day off was all you’d needed, time out of the house to escape the need to be working, to essentially touch some grass and speak to another actual human being besides the shadow you’d conjured in your head. You’d gone into town, done some shopping, sat in a local coffee shop… You’d met a lovely older woman in there – Amelie, a widow and life-long resident – who’d welcomed you to town, so excited to have a fresh and pretty face to say hello to.

Although, she had warned you to head home before the sun set… That you should never walk alone in the evenings, and should lock your doors and windows at night.

“He likes the younger ones,” she’d told you. “I’m no good, you see… He likes them young.”

That had chilled you to the bone… Perhaps the mad ramblings of a woman hitting senility, but already on edge after the last few days at home, it seemed to strike a nerve. But nothing could have prepared you for the look on her face when she’d asked her where in town you had moved into, and you divulged it was the old farmhouse on the outskirts.

Her cheeks had sagged, smile dropping instantly. She shifted in the chair she’d taken at your table, straightening out the skirt of her dress over her knees and avoiding eye contact. And then she clutched her necklace in her fist – a gold crucifix – as she reached to take yours in her other hand.

“You must protect yourself, yes? That house… Something is there. You must be careful,” she told you, her voice as stern as she could make it to hide the tremble of fear.

“I-I’m okay, really… It just looks old, it’s overgrown and falling apart but I’m working on-“

“No!” she yelled, turning the heads of other patrons in the coffee shop. Her grip on your hand squeezed tighter, her nails digging into your hand painfully. “You should leave, before it’s too late. Such a pretty young thing, you shouldn’t be there…”

You pried her bony, arthritic fingers from around your hand and gently held hers in both of yours.

“I’m okay, Amelie. Please, don’t worry…” you comforted her, but she seemed dissatisfied, her eyes wide as she conceded.

That entire interaction had sat with you for the rest of the day as you’d wandered through the local farmer’s market, picking up fresh vegetables to turn into a casserole for one tonight. It shouldn’t have unnerved you the way it did, such an elderly woman was clearly suffering the effects of an ageing mind and yet, with the experiences of the last few days? Her warning unnerved you.

You headed home long before sunset, and locked the doors and windows like she’d told you to. Did it make you feel any better? Absolutely not… But as you pottered around in the kitchen making the casserole you’d planned, slowly the anxiety started to ease, helped mostly by the music on your little radio.

You ate in peace, scrolling through your phone while you tapped your foot on the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t mind these lonely evenings so much, having grown tired of the bustling city long ago. These days, the quiet of your own company was quite welcome, easily sinking into your own little world.

Even as you stood at the sink, scrubbing at the dishes, you were in your own world, humming along to another overplayed song you’d heard time and time again. You’d find yourself staring out the window in front of you at the sunset, the sky painted pinks and oranges and casting a tranquil glow over the little graveyard out back. Dusk was quickly approaching, the night drawing in as you cleaned.

Just as you placed your plate on the drying rack beside you, you looked out again at the graves, now like silhouettes as the sky turned to a deeper shade of bluey purple. But your heart dropped, every hair on your body standing on end.

The shadow figure. The same shadow figure… Stood out by the graves, looking down at them with its back to you. He seemed to be wearing the same thing as last time you spotted him; slacks, a black coat made of heavy wool that just passed his knees. He was just standing, staring…

You froze in place, watching… You felt paralysed, like you’d spotted a large spider on the wall, staring at it to make sure it didn’t move out of sight because losing it was worse than staring in fear.

It didn’t move, just standing there, staring down.

A rush of anger hit you out of nowhere – this fucker was trespassing on your property, scaring you stupid. You’d locked this prick out when you’d come home, and so he thought it was okay to skulk around your land, trying to frighten you?

Fuck that. No. Enough of this.

You wiped your hands on the dish towel to the side, instinctively reaching for the biggest knife in your knife block on the counter before running to the back door. You unbolted the top and bottom, and ran out into the evening with a surge of adrenaline.

“HEY!” you yelled, like you had when you’d seen him in your hallway, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The figure didn’t move, still staring down as you approached quickly from behind. You stayed back a few feet, clutching the knife in your hand and ready to use it should this fucker try anything…

“Answer me…” your voice shook with fear, no matter how hard you tried to keep it steady and strong. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing on my land?”

A dark chuckle… The shoulders of the figure shook with his laugh, and it only pissed you off more.

“Your land? Interesting…” the figure muttered, his voice thick with a heavy Italian accent and gruff like he hadn’t spoken aloud in decades.

“I-I’ll call the cops…” you threatened, “just leave and no one gets hurt.”

His head cocked up at that, turning to look over his shoulder. For the first time, you got a small glimpse at his face, and the eye that gleamed brighter than it should. He seemed to be smirking, as if this situation was somehow funny to him.

“You would hurt me, cara mio?” he teased, his eyes flitting down to the knife you held extended towards him. “I did not have you pegged for a violent woman.”

It caught you off guard, the way he spoke to you. Was he trying to belittle you? Make you question your own self-defense to weaken you? You wouldn’t let that happen.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him defiantly, ignoring his comments and still wielding the knife.

“Paying my respects,” he grumbled, as if he were annoyed by an intrusive question.

“Th-this is my property, and you need to leave. I’ve seen you in my house, and you need to go before I call the cops,” you repeated yourself, your voice shaking.

“Why did you buy this house?” he asked, frustratingly ignoring your warnings.

“None of your business-“

“It is my business,” he snapped, “This house belonged to my family,” he span on the spot, finally facing you. His expression was intimidating, his eyes – now visibly different colours – were boring into you, just begging you to try something. “These are their graves. This is their house. It does not, and will never, belong to you.”

“Well you might want to tell the bank that, Mr, uh…” his name escaped you, forgetting the surname that you’d uncovered weeks ago on the graves behind him.

“Emeritus,” he smiled sadistically. “Terzo Emeritus, and this house is mine.”

He took a step closer to you, and naturally you stepped back in fear. The grip on the knife readjusted with the second step he took, readying yourself to use it should you need to.

“But a pretty thing like you? I’m willing to share…”

“Don’t make another move…” you jabbed the knife forward a little, raising your voice in an attempt to appear threatening. “I know there’s some creep going around town, snatching people… And now you’re here, in MY house, threatening me?”

“I think I’m the one being threatened, cara mio…”

“SHUT UP!” you yelled. “Leave, now. Or I will call the fucking police.”

His hands, encased in leather gloves, shot up in a defensive pose, his smile widening sickeningly. He stopped approaching, but his morbidly beautiful eyes slowly scanned you from head to toe, taking you in, analysing. For a moment, you were locked in a stalemate, staring each other down. You thought maybe he was sizing you up, waiting for the opportune moment to strike like a predator hunting its prey.   

But instead of pouncing like you’d expected, he turned back around and knelt down before the graves.

“Penso che forse lei non è così affezionato a me come io sono di lei, non siete d'accordo? (I think maybe she is not as fond of me as I am of her, don’t you agree?)” he mumbled, as if the dead could hear every word. “Non temere, non lascerò che questa bellezza mi scaccia, i miei fratelli. Questa è casa nostra e imparerà a godere della mia compagnia. (Fear not, I will not let this beauty drive me away, my brothers. This is our house, and she will learn to enjoy my company.)”

“W-what did you say?” you stuttered, still wielding the knife. He looked briefly over his shoulder at you.

“Non vedevo tanta bellezza da più di un secolo, (I haven’t seen such beauty in over a century,)” he spoke to the graves again. “Non dal mio esilio e ritorno. (not since my exile and return.)”

You were growing more and more frustrated as he spoke his mother tongue to thin air, waiting for him to do something – even if that something were to force you to defend yourself. This was just… bizarre.

He stood again, kissing the tips of his gloves and pressing them to each headstone, save for one on the end. Why he missed that one, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. He seemed to be saying a goodbye, as if he were actually going to leave upon your request.

“Until next time, bella cosa (pretty thing),” he bowed his head a little and began to walk towards you, giving you a wide berth but keeping his eyes trained on you at all times. You figured he was simply making sure you didn’t try to stab him as he passed, walking himself out of the gates of your land and a little ways down the street before he turned back to you, and blew you a slow, calculated flying kiss.

As he continued to walk away down the lane that stretched towards town, you quickly glanced back at the graves, noting now that the names did indeed all share a common family name.

Primo Emeritus. Secondo Emeritus. Copia Emeritus. Terzo Emeritus.

Your eyes widened. You were sure that was the name he just told you belonged to him? That wasn’t possible… Such an unusual name, and he’d made no mention of being a ‘Terzo Junior’, or ‘Terzo the second’. And it was the only grave he didn’t plant his kiss to…

You span around in the grass beneath your feet, looking out down the lane you’d just seen him walking down and yet, he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t in the fields that lined the lane into town, and the road stretched with no bends for at least two miles, no obstructions at all. You should be able to still see him walking, running even if he had chosen to. He hadn’t had time to vanish like he had, in mere seconds.

Your head whipped back to the grave – his grave? – before you shook your head of the nonsense that he might well be some kind of spirit who can appear or disappear in the blink of an eye. These ‘occurrences’ were nothing more than fuel for a spooky story around a campfire. None of this was true, you’d just… lost sight of him, or misjudged the view of the road. Something, anything, had to explain this away.

But it didn’t stop you from bolting back through the garden and into the kitchen, slamming the door behind you with the knife still in hand and bolting the door shut, heart thumping in your ears.

You slept with that knife under your mattress that night.

His face haunted you, both day and night. No matter what you did, or how you tried to refocus your mind, to fixate on only your renovations, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. In the few days since the incident by the graves, you were questioning your sanity more than ever.

Had that even been real? Was he real? He couldn’t possibly be… The way he disappeared in an instant every time you saw him led you only to the conclusion that you’d lost your mind, officially. You must have concocted this spectre after seeing his name on the grave when you’d cleared the landscaping around them. You told yourself that over and over again.

That became harder to do though, when you’d spot him out by the graves again not even a week after the first time. You’d been installing some small curtains to the window by the kitchen sink for you to hide the site from view when you’d spooked yourself at the mere thought of that night, and yet there he was again.

You stared in shock, frozen and motionless, as he turned his head towards the house, looking it up and down, before his gaze settled on you in the window. He raised his hand, but before he could gesture a wave at you, you shut the new curtains and obscured his view, darting out of the kitchen and hiding in the dining room still full of packed boxes.

Your heart pounded as it always did when your imagination ran away with you and spooked you like this. You shook your head, told yourself to snap the fuck out of it.

But then you saw him every evening.

Always by the graves, always turning to wave at you, no matter from which window you were watching him from. You did your best to hide, to ignore it and tell yourself he wasn’t real. You just had to keep going, to continue your work and maybe find a good psychologist in town one of these days.

This plan of wilful ignorance was barely working, but what else could you do? Giving this apparition any kind of attention would surely only make it worse, whether he was a figment of your imagination or a genuine ghost from the past.

Ignoring him was hard. There was such a large part of you that wanted more information about him, to learn where he’d come from, why he haunted you. He was intriguing, if terrifying. The face that followed your dreams, both day and night, was starting to become all too familiar, all too comfortable. If it weren’t for that ghostly white eye of his, he’d have quite a charming face. His glare wouldn’t seem so dark if it wasn’t pierced by the white glow, and perhaps he wouldn’t be so threatening… Home invasion and grave haunting aside.

Still, you did your best to continue as normal. The renovations continued, and before long you had stripped every room upstairs of the aged and withered wallpaper that desperately needed replacing. Finally, you could start decorating to your own tastes – starting with your bedroom.

After a trip to the nearest hardware store, and a delivery of wooden slats, you got busy creating the wainscoting that was to run along the bottom three feet of the wall in your bedroom. The idea was to panel it, and then paint everything a beautiful deep shade of royal purple. The hardwood floor was going to be stained a dark shade throughout the entire upstairs, but you’d managed to source a stunning Persian rug in a purple that matched the aesthetic you were hoping for. The furniture – the items you’d had moved to the basement – were already perfect for the room, matching the bed that had also been left behind. You’d chosen gold metal accents to replace the handles on the wardrobe and chest of drawers, and sourced lamps and trinkets in the same gold to match.

After no longer than a week, you’d completed the room with a mix and match of modern and Victorian gothic aesthetics. Frankly, it looked like a Pinterest board – but it was so inherently you.

When you’d laid the finishing touches to the room, you stood in the middle of it, proudly looking around with a wide grin on your face at the beautifully finished space. That estate agent couldn’t see the potential of this house, but you had the second you stepped foot inside. And whilst it was only one room, the rest of the house still just the bare skeletal bones of a home, this was a huge victory.

“I like what you’ve done with my bedroom, bella cosa (pretty thing).”

Your body stiffened at the sound of his voice, coming from the doorway behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and willing for the nightmare to stop. You hadn’t heard him, you were imagining it. You had to be.

Except, you heard footsteps behind you, on the hardwood floors. His shoes clacked with every step, slow and deliberate as if he was taking in his surrounding, inspecting your work. When you braved opening your eyes, that’s exactly what he was doing.

He really was here.

“Grazie for keeping my furniture, cara mio. I was always fond of it, and you’ve given it new life,” he said, ogling the wardrobe as he dragged his gloved fingertips along the edge of the wood.

“And purple, too…” he span on his heels to face you, a warm smile crossing his dark features, “My favourite colour.”

“How did you get in here?” you asked, voice shaking as you watched him look around the room.

“I told you, cara, this was my house. I know every entrance and exit there is,” his mismatched eyes settled on you again, “even the ones you don’t.”

He was lying. There were only three ways in or out of the house, and they were all locked – bolted, latched, even the cellar doors in the basement were chained shut.

“This is not your house,” you argued, spitting the words through grit teeth. “You need to leave. I will call the police.”

His eyes darkened again, a veil of threat overcoming him.

“And I told you, this has always been my house.”

You weighed your options. Your phone was on the kitchen counter downstairs; if you were fast enough, you could run down to it and out the back door before he caught you, calling the police as you ran along the road into town. If you didn’t fuck it up, you could even lock him in, taking the key from the back door and locking it shut behind you, leaving him gift wrapped for the cops.

You just had to be quick.

And you tried, you really did. You bolted out of the bedroom, running down the length of the long hall towards the top of the stairs. You hadn’t heard him behind you, his shoes making no noise behind you and so you imagined he’d been left stunned by your sudden departure, giving you a head start.

So you hadn’t expected a pair of large, strong hands to grip you by the tops of your arms at the top of the stairs, and slam your body into the wall. A sharp pain radiated up through your spine, but you cried out in fear more so than pain when you realised he’d trapped you, palms flat against the wall by your head and arms encasing you.

Instinct had you closing your eyes, squeezing them shut and waiting for the next blow, or for this nightmare to end. You could feel a cool breeze against your cheek as you turned your head away from the man trapping you, as if his breath were ice cold.

“Look at me, cara mio,” he ordered, his voice deep and slow. You whimpered beneath him, trying to plant yourself flat against the wall to get as far away from him as possible. “Per favore, I want to see you.”

You wanted to deny him, but his silence said he’d wait for an eternity until you did. And you didn’t want to find out just how aggressive he could be, if given the chance. So slowly, you opened your eyes, looking at him through your peripheral vision before you turned your head ever so slightly.

His face was so close to yours, hovering above you. His eyes flickered across your features, like he was looking for something, or maybe mapping every feature and committing it to his memory for some nefarious reason.

This close to him, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same… You avoided his eyes, noting instead how his skin seemed pale for an Italian man, but soft and smooth without a single imperfection. His jawline was chiselled, like you’d cut your palm if you tried to slap him. He had frown lines in his forehead that came with a life of frustration, yet forked lines from the outer corners of his eyes that came with a life of happiness; neither made him look haggard, yet showed he wasn’t quite as youthful as you.

Despite his pale complexion, his lips remained a soft pink. They were full, parted as you both silently examined each other up close. That breeze you felt was most definitely his breath, which you’d expected to be warmer but given the situation, perhaps it was your fear adding to the chill.

Running out of features to scan, you landed on his eyes; the eyes that haunted you more than any you’d seen. At first glance, the colour mismatch was disconcerting. It would put anybody on edge, perhaps make them wonder if he’d fallen victim to some kind of accident or birth defect but the more you stared, the more you fell into them. You couldn’t place why, but they seemed older than the rest of his features, holding more wisdom than you might have expected.

“Are you real?” you asked him, logic and reason battling against the very real fear that you were imagining him, that he was some kind of spirit that haunted his family home you’d never be rid of. But you’d felt him. His hands had been the ones to throw you against this wall, his body was imposing on yours as he trapped you. He was solid, flesh and blood. But there was an innate and visceral fear that something was wrong.

At your question, his eyes met yours, and his lips quirked into a playful smile.

“I am very real, cara mio,” he assured, taking his hand from beside your head and wrapping his gloved fingers around your wrist. He lifted your palm, gently laying it flat against his chest. “Can you not feel me?”

You could. He was solid, like you’d now discovered and you could feel his heartbeat beneath his shirt. Still, something felt wrong. He had no body heat like a normal living man through a simple cotton shirt should, and the heartbeat you felt was significantly slower than it should be.

“Who are you?” you whimpered, palm to his chest without even an attempt to remove it.

“I told you who I was. Terzo Emeritus.”

“J-junior?” you asked him. His brow creased in confusion, missing what you were asking entirely. “Terzo Junior? The grave, it… it says Terzo.”

Now he understood, sensing your confusion and chuckling lightly at it.

“Just Terzo,” he told you, gentle grip still on your wrist. You could pull your hand away if you tried, and yet, you kept it in place as if his own slow heartbeat was somehow reducing your own to a more comfortable pace.

You were at a loss for words now, brain running far too quickly to settle on something suitable to say to him. But at least now you had grown aware of your palm still settled on his chest, prompting you to rip it from his grip expecting him to put up some kind of resistance, to which you met none.

“What do you want from me?” you asked him, unable to tear your eyes from him in the same manner you’d torn your wrist from him.

“Perhaps only your company,” he shrugged slightly, raising an eyebrow in suggestion. “To exist with you, here.”

“This is my house…”

“Sí, so you keep saying.” A beat of silence passed as you thought of what he was truly asking, what that even meant.

“I want you to stay away from me,” you insisted, finding a shred of strength within you. Terzo took in a deep breath through his nose, letting it go as he studied you.

“I don’t think I can do that, cara mio,” he sighed. His admission had tears forming in your waterline, a new fear that you wouldn’t be able to shake this man’s seemingly growing obsession with you. All you wanted was peace, solitude and an escape but you’d fallen into a web, and the spider was crawling towards you agonisingly slowly.

You took a few deep breaths, each exhale shaky. You just wanted him to go, to leave you alone. Maybe this had been his house once before, but it was yours now, and he couldn’t stay here. He already seemed infatuated with you, if the way he looked at you now was anything to go by. His eyes drank you in like he was a starving man, and you were the ripest of fruits for him to devour.

“Please, I just want to be left alone…” you begged, tilting your head back against the wall and letting the tears fall as you squeezed your eyes shut, suppressing a sob in your chest.

Silence descended, and suddenly the weighted oppression of his presence vanished with a swift breeze. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel he wasn’t entrapping you anymore but when you opened them, you saw he wasn’t anywhere near you at all.

He’d vanished again, faster than a snap of your fingers.

And you were left wondering if any of that, once again, was real or a fantasy of your own making. You were so sure you felt a solid body, a real heartbeat. You weren’t a scientist, nor a paranormal specialist but you would assume if he was the spirit of the man buried in your back yard, you wouldn’t be able to feel him in such a way.

But now he had vanished, the feeling he left with you felt very much like an oppressive presence, a lingering energy. Now he left you with the anxiety of another visit without warning, another appearance to trick you into believing your delusions were true.

You expected to see him again.

Another week passed, a surface layer of anxiety lingering persistently. All you could do was focus your attention on your project, doing your absolute best to continue as normal. Now you had finished the master bedroom, you moved onto the upstairs bathroom, which had needed gutting and refitting.

You’d had a small team of plumbers in to replace the pipes through the house just as you had electricians to rewire the place before you’d moved in, and until now, all you’d had was the bare bones of a shiny new bathroom. You’d installed some counters with a new sink, the gold hardware matching around the bathroom. The marble top was a beautifully tasteful black with gold veins to match the black wood of the cabinets.

Even in here, you stuck to your darker aesthetic. The walls were painted a beautiful matte black, the floor tiled with black and white squares. It took you all week, two of those days on tiling alone. But it was something to focus on, a room that you knew would be frequently used and so needed to be finished now your bedroom was complete.

When it came to adding the finishing touches, it felt like the cherry on top of another beautifully made cake. Your house was quickly turning into a showroom, a place that could be featured in home renovation magazines had you been willing to open it up.

But already, you’d had one too many visitors in your home for your liking…

By the end of the week, you were exhausted – more so than usual. The anxiety of feeling watched, monitored, stalked was taking its toll on you, and you needed some respite. For all you knew, Terzo Emeritus could show up at any moment to frighten, repulse and excite you. It was weighing heavy, and your mind was just as spent as your body was.

As you headed to bed that evening, you allowed yourself some self-care in the bathroom you’d now finished. The point of renovating this house was to enjoy it, right? So why deny yourself that…

You filled the new clawfoot tub with hot water, brimming with bubbles and scents that had you falling into a state of total calm before you’d even sunk into it. Your tiny little radio joined you in the bathroom, tuned to a station that played nothing but classical, and on a bath shelf you’d bought you rested some candles, a book and a full glass of red wine to enjoy as you pampered yourself.

Sinking into the water, you relished in the feeling of being submerged in its warmth. Almost instantly, the tension in your shoulders melted away, eyes closing in bliss as your head slipped back to rest against the tub’s edge. You couldn’t help but let out a hum of satisfaction, the relief and pleasure accumulating in a soft moan.

As you let your body relax, a noise caught your attention; a floorboard, creaking just outside of the bathroom door. Your eyes shot open, your body reacting and freezing in place. However when you let your eyes roam over to the mirror above the bathroom sink, you saw him…

By force of habit, you’d left the bathroom door ajar, a small gap just large enough to be able to see that ghostly eye of his in the dim hallway, and the outline of him peeking through the door. Your heart rate hammered in your chest as it always did when you saw him, but you remained still. For now, he wasn’t making any kind of move, and he didn’t seem to be aware you had seen him.

But he was definitely there, watching you as you bathed. It was violating, invasive, perverse… And yet, you did nothing about it.

Instead, you sank further underneath the bubbles, reaching for your wine glass with your eyes trained on the mirror. You took a sip, relishing in the taste and releasing another satisfied moan as if putting on a damn show for him. What possessed you to do so, you had no idea, but he’d been tormenting your mind for weeks now – why couldn’t you do the same to him?

Reaching for your loofah, you dunked it under the water and sat upright, back exposed to him. You stretched your arm out, running the loofah along your skin in a slow and deliberate manner. You were careful to never expose yourself too much, but to tease with the expanse of pretty, bare skin to conjure enough suggestion in his mind that would leave a man desperate to see more.

When you ran the loofah up the length of your leg just above the water, you heard the floorboards creak again, like he was fidgeting on the other side of the door. You checked in the mirror to see if he was still there, and he most certainly was, but you were having the effect on him you hoped for.

Perhaps you stretched it out a little longer than necessary, running the loofah over your body more than needed but you were making your point. Your wicked little mind was ticking over, aware he could only see what you wanted him to; your shoulders and head above the bubbles from behind. Do you dare to cross the line…?

Perhaps the thrill of being watched was having an effect on you too, because you came to the conclusion that yes, you did dare to cross the line.

You lay back against the tub again, using the loofah now to run across your shoulders and down between the valley of your breasts, which the bubbles were barely covering in your relaxed position. You trailed the loofah further down, reaching over your stomach and between your legs.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you brushed the loofah over your core, now realising that washing yourself so intimately – and being watched while doing so – had aroused you more than you’d first thought. A flash of pleasure had you squeezing your eyes shut again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grazing over your centre with added pressure, hips rocking in the water.

Before long, you abandoned the loofah all together, and from where he was stood, Terzo could see it float and bob up to the surface which had him drawing only one conclusion; you were definitely not just washing yourself.

You worked slowly, methodically. It had been so long since you’d let go like this, since you’d last touched yourself at all and you wanted to savour it, to enjoy it. You were in no rush, working your fingers in gentle and slow circles over your clit under the water. The moans that you let slip weren’t at all restrained or controlled; for all you knew, you were alone, right? So why would you hold back?

 It was impossible not to keep checking the mirror, to make sure he was still there and every time, he was. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run away with you, picturing him entering the room, kneeling down beside the tub and reaching his hand between your legs for you. You pictured him taking you from the bathroom, into the bedroom and having his way with you, dark, handsome and brooding as he always had been.

You imagined his hands beneath his gloves, his bare fingertips tracing patterns into your skin, his full lips trailing kisses down your still wet body. What did he look like under those layers of his? How would he feel under your own fingertips? How would he feel inside you?

But Terzo made no such move. Instead, he watched silently from the shadows, and each time you caught that glimpse of him your hips bucked towards your hand until eventually, you couldn’t hold back anymore and allowed yourself to fall over the precipice.

Your orgasm was powerful, thanks to not only the lack of self love recently, but also, the arousal of becoming an exhibitionist. It rippled through your body like the water around you, and had you crying out wordlessly as you sank further into the water up to your chin. You hadn’t felt so good in a long time, and it worked perfectly to relieve the remainder of that tension in your body.

As you came down from the orgasm, you dared to glance back at the mirror only to find that he’d vanished. Another little disappearing act, only this time, you found yourself free of the anxiety that usually came with that, and instead smug with the knowledge you might have got one over on him for a change. You’d teased him to a point that he couldn’t tear his eyes from you until it was over, and for a moment you felt truly powerful. At least, if he were real… and not a fantasy you’d concocted for yourself. There was still the very real possibility that all of this was just your own madness and loneliness, and you were just now starting to lean into the delusions as a form of self-preservation.

For a little while longer, you stayed put in the tub, enjoying your book, the rest of your wine and the music in the background. Of course, you kept checking on the mirror to see if maybe he’d return for another look, but nothing. It was twisted, the way your stomach drooped in disappointment each time, but you brushed it off. You were sure before long, you would see him again – whether real or fictional.

Once you had finished in the bathroom, draining the tub and rinsing the suds away, you floated back into your bedroom wrapped in a bathrobe and ready to sink into bed with your book. You pottered around, changing into some pyjamas and crawling under the sheets when a glimpse of colour caught the light beside your bed, earning your attention.

Hanging from your bedside lamp was a pendant, and most certainly not one of yours. They were stored in a jewellery box atop the dresser, not hung on display like this… but it was beautiful, and you reached over to lay the charm in your palm and inspect it properly.

It was simple, yet elegant. The charm was shaped like a water drop, except the stone was purple; perhaps amethyst or a rarer sapphire but it caught the light exceptionally. Surrounding it, were smaller stones that resembled diamonds, but your knowledge of precious stones couldn’t confirm whether they were in fact real, or if this were costume jewellery. It didn’t matter though, it was beautiful as it was, sparkling under your bedside lamp.

You had no idea how it got here, but you could hazard a guess. It had been left for you like a gift, delicately placed in a position that would get your attention. There was only one person it could have come from, and as you played with the unusual pendant under the light, you began to realise that maybe he wasn’t the figment of your imagination you were trying to pass him off as…

The next morning, you had a revived energy, a spring in your step from a decent night’s sleep. The time spent on self care seemed to do the job, relieving the stress enough for you to be ready to tackle the downstairs living room next. Truthfully, your new found vigour may have also had something to do with a large part of you giving in to the idea that Terzo was not a fantasy, he’d been very real this whole time.

You still had no idea who he was, or how he was a real person. You were beginning to think that perhaps spirits did walk the earth, just by how he seemed to appear and disappear on a dime. But you remembered the heartbeat, the solid chest under your palm…

There were so many questions. Who was he? A descendant of the family this house once belonged to, and rested in your garden? How does he keep getting in? He mentioned entrances you might not know about, but you’d searched thoroughly, or so you thought. Was he obsessed with you? Stalking you?

Was he dangerous?

His behaviour was most definitely shady – people don’t just come and go in other people’s homes as they please. But you’d never reported him, no matter how much you’d threatened it. To begin with you’d hoped the threat of calling the cops would be enough to deter him, but he always came back. And at every opportunity, he could have done something to hurt you, yet never did. Even last night, you were in a completely vulnerable position. And whilst peeping on you in the bath was absolutely a violation and a crime in itself, all he did was watch. And you let him.

His existence was confusing, but you’d surrendered to the notion that he did in fact exist; and honestly, that in itself was quite freeing. It felt like some kind of weight had lifted, and it made beginning work on the living room easier to stomach.

This room had suffered in the years the house sat in decay. The old windows had made way for black mould to grow around it, and whilst you’d had the windows replaced since, the mould was still present. Your first job was to clean the walls and potentially replace some of the floorboards, if the moisture had taken hold of the wood.

Armed with a bucket of diluted bleach and a sponge, you got to work scrubbing at the walls and the large window sill that you were planning to convert into a cosy nook; a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by, book in hand. Your little radio sat on the mantelpiece of the stunning fireplace you were going to bring back to life, blaring out the same cycle of tunes you were used to now you’d tuned it back from the classical of last night.

You let yourself zone out as you scrubbed at the mould, singing along to the radio now you knew most of the songs blaring from it. It was a wonder you weren’t sick of them yet, but you still hadn’t got around to unpacking your record player that was supposed to have a home in this particular room. First, you had to finish it though, of course.

As one song ended, the radio host announced a lunchtime bulletin. By this time you were only half listening, fixated on the satisfying cleaning job.

“It’s 1pm, you’re listening to 108.3fm – here’s your lunchtime bulletin. Police have made a shocking discovery after the disappearance of 25 year old Amanda Riley just three days ago.”

Your ears perked up at the news, now getting your attention. Another one? This was concerning, terrifying even. And now they’d made a discovery?

“Human remains were discovered just outside of town in a wooded area yesterday, which police have now confirmed are that of Amanda. Family members formally identified the body, and police have given a statement to locals urging caution and vigilance. Sheriff Ansel had this to say…

“‘We believe Ms. Riley’s murder to be connected to the string of disappearances in the area in the last few months. The victim was found with all her personal belongings still on her person, including wallet, cash, ID and mobile phone, however when the family came to formally identify the body, they noted that the only thing taken from her was her unusual pendant…’”

Your blood turned cold. The hand still scrubbing at the wall froze in place, and slowly, you turned to look at the radio as if it was speaking directly to you.

“‘The pendant is recognisable as a purple amethyst in a teardrop shape, surrounded by smaller white diamonds. While the item is valuable, we believe that the killer may have taken such a personal item as a trophy, which could be part of their M.O. Still, we are urging the public to please keep an eye out to see if we can trace this item, either in pawn shops or perhaps being sold online. We ask that you not panic, and please get in touch if you note anything suspicious. Thank you.’”

Your hand dropped the sponge back into the bucket of diluted bleach, drifting up to your chest where that very same pendant was sat against your skin. You’d put it on that morning, barely even thinking about it, just because you liked it.

But he’d given it to you. Left it out in the open for you, like he was proud of it. He’d given you a dead girl’s fucking necklace. And there was only one way he could have got it…

You stood up, running into the kitchen and colliding with the sink before your body displayed it’s disgust by vomiting violently. All those unanswered questions, and yet, one of them had been answered.

Who was he? A murderer.

As you coughed and spluttered your breakfast into the sink, your mind raced. She wasn’t the only missing person, just the first body to have been found. There were others. So many others, for nine months. Thirteen missing people, one of which found dead with this fucking necklace missing.

You felt dizzy, like a wave of vertigo hit you in an instant. You hobbled over to the fridge, clutching at the kitchen counter to keep yourself steady and rooting around for a bottle of water. Your hands shook as you unscrewed the lid, taking a sip to rinse out your mouth as you stumbled back to the sink to spit. You took another sip, this time swallowing and trying your best to focus on the sensation of the cool water trickling down your throat. But your head was too busy.

Trophies. He was taking trophies? Why? This sick bastard must enjoy it, he must relish in his kills, wanting something to remember each one by. What else had he taken…? And then you remembered.

The box under the floorboards.

You slammed the water bottle down on the side, a jet propelling out onto the work surface from the force. Before you knew it your feet were moving of their own accord, up the stairs and down the hall. You were unsteady, tripping into the walls as you walked. You needed to know, but you didn’t want to.

Stumbling into the bare room, you fell to your knees with a hard smack where the floorboard was loose. Shaking hands lifted the plank, reaching underneath to check the box was still there; it was. You pulled it from its hiding place setting it down on the floor while you racked up the courage to open it again.

In one quick motion, you unlocked the latch and flung the lid open like ripping off a band aid. All the items were still there, just the way you’d left them, including the watch that had made you question them in the first place. It looked like it could have been vintage, save for the date wound to March of this year.

You looked at the collection of random items; the watch, the cuff links, the old red lipstick, the cheap bracelet, a skeleton key, a tiny used bottle of perfume, a red comb, an old butterfly hairpin, a daisy pin badge, a rusty swiss army knife, a fountain pen and a vintage zippo lighter.

Twelve items.

With the necklace, that made thirteen. Thirteen items. Thirteen victims. Thirteen trophies.

“I should have hidden them better, eh?”

The sound of his voice had your body stiffening in fear, skin instantly peppered with goosebumps. You hadn’t even begun to think about confronting him or having to see him. You weren’t sure what you were going to do yet, but you’d have hoped to have time to calm yourself down and think rationally about your options.

But you were going to have to do this ad-hoc.

“I don’t often make mistakes, bella cosa, but when I do… They haunt me. I suppose my kindness is coming back to bite me on the culo (ass).”

He sounded surprisingly calm for a man who’d just been found out to be a serial killer. It unnerved you, and no part of you could figure out his next move. You were a sitting duck.

Slowly, and carefully, you stood up, turning around to look at him. Part of you worried if you startled him with sudden movement, he might strike like any predator would its prey.

He was stood in the doorway, leaning up against the wood with his hands buried in the pockets of his slacks, coat pushed back behind them. He looked far too casual, his face hinting at neither anger nor humour – nowhere on the emotional spectrum.

“Kindness?” you asked, ruminating over his use of the word. “There’s no kindness in what you’ve done.” Perhaps it was dangerous to speak so ill of the murderer in front of you, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His neutral expression darkened in a warning glare, his chin tipping up so he was looking down on you, adding to his intimidating aura.

“Not everybody deserves kindness, cara mio. Some deserve far less,” he challenged, pushing himself off the doorframe and taking slow steps into the room, keeping a distance from you still.

“No one deserves that…”

Terzo scoffed, looking off to gaze out of the window and shaking his head as if what you said offended him in some way.

“So now you know,” he shrugged, looking back towards you, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. You kept an eye on them, mind racing with all kinds of possibilities – he could have a weapon of some sorts hidden from view. You needed to be on your guard. “I suppose you will report me now, sí?”

There was a playful glint in his eyes that you didn’t miss, like he was taunting you, waving a red flag to a bull. If you said you were, would he attack you too? But surely he couldn’t simply take your word for it if you said you wouldn’t either… Truthfully, you weren’t sure what you were going to do. Your only instinct was to run – fast.

You let his question linger in the air, far too much silence going by as he watched you, assuming you’d frozen in fear. He hadn’t expected you to dart towards the door, your only goal to get downstairs and out of the house as quickly as possible. So when you did exactly that, he watched for a split second, anger snapping inside him.

You barely made it out of the room before you felt a sudden force slam you forwards and into the wall of the corridor. A scream erupted from your chest, blood-curdling and gut-wrenching to anyone who would have heard it – but out here? No one would. How he’d moved so fast, you had no idea, but he had both of your wrists behind your back, and his whole body weight held you tightly against the wall.

“You are leaving so soon?” he asked, leaning in to speak directly in your ear as you writhed under him to try and escape, but his grip was too strong even without him putting seemingly any effort into it. “I was just getting used to you living in my house…”

“This is MY house,” you growled, gritting your teeth and avoiding his eyes.

“Then why should you want to leave? Are you scared I might hurt you, cara mio?”

Tears spilled from your waterline, giving away your fear and distress. Of course you were scared he was going to hurt you. He’d already hurt so many…

When he received no answer from you other than a sob in defeat and the stilling of your limbs as you gave up fighting his grip, he manhandled you until you span around, your back now against the wall just like it had been the other day.

“Th-this isn’t real… You’re not real…” you whispered to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in the hopes you might wake up from your nightmare. You did not.

“I’m quite real, cara. We’ve been over this, no?” he lifted your wrist again like he had the other day, this time settling your hand delicately on his cheek and holding it there with his much bigger palm. “See?”

His gentility confused you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a strange softness in his face. For a moment, you almost thought his expression was one of admiration. It didn’t matter what it was, but you couldn’t look away. This man – this serial killer – was being so gentle with you, his eyes cast over you like he was utterly obsessed with you.

“Why?” you whispered, more tears spilling over your cheeks. Still, you held his, despite his grip on your hand lessening ever so slightly. You wanted to understand, talk him down maybe just enough to let you go. You wanted to appeal to the softness you saw in him.

“I have no choice,” he said flatly, almost with a hint of shame. But that only crossed the wires in your mind more.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I choose them carefully… They are not good people, cara. They have ruined others lives, even taken them and I-“ he stopped himself, looking down at the floor in shame. Your brows creased together, trying to piece your thoughts into coherency.

“It’s always a choice,” you started to argue back, softly so as not to raise any more rage within him in such a precarious position such as the one you found yourself in beneath him. But his head snapped back up nonetheless, his hand gripping onto yours and throwing it back down beside you. He kept you caged beneath him still, hands planted firmly on the wall.

“I assure you, bella ragazza (pretty girl), there is no choice. It is me or them.”

Slowly, he raised his head from where he’d stared at the floorboards between your feet. His eyes watched you closely as he tilted his head back a little, and his lips parted until you could clearly see two very white, very sharp fangs protruding from under his top lip.

For a moment you didn’t react at all, calculating what you were seeing. His hands hadn’t moved, so he hadn’t put them in himself. You’d seen him so many times, and up close too, and never saw them before… They had to be real. He had fangs.

“That’s impossible…” you whispered, “there’s no such thing as-“

“Vampires?” he finished your sentence for you, “I’m sorry to shatter your illusion of a perfect world, cara mio, but I can assure you, there certainly is.”

Finally, your survival instincts kicked in, adrenaline pumping through your veins almost in an instant. You shoved your hands against his chest and pushed with all the strength you had, trying to get him away from you, to preserve yourself. All this time you had felt like prey, and it had been instinct all along. You were prey.

Your shove did nothing. He remained unmoving, like stone encasing you against the wall. You thrashed your arms around, trying to escape him but it was completely useless. You were already trapped, and at the mercy of a real vampire.

“I’m sorry, cara mio, but you will not overcome my strength nor my speed. This is useless, I assure you.” His voice had no hint of patronising, instead of genuine sorrow. It felt as if he knew he had to kill you now, but he didn’t want to kill you. You gave up, your fists balling up against his chest as you lay your head back against the wall, out of breath and sobbing as you accepted your fate.

“Please… don’t kill me, Terzo…” you wept, head lolling forward to look into his eyes for what you thought might be the last time.

His brow was creased, his lips parted in horror as he looked back at you. He raised his gloved hand and wiped at the tracks on your cheek. “I don’t wish to kill you, cara mio… You understand, no? I must kill to stay alive, but not you – never you.”

You barely registered what he was saying before you were shooting questions at him again, needing to know more, to understand why he chose those people. Why he kept their trophies…

“Why them? Why did you choose them? They were innocent, just like me. Why did they deserve that?” you sobbed, your chest heaving as he held your cheek, still caging you against the wall.

“The girl they found? What the polizia (police) don’t know is she was behind the wheel of an intentional hit and run a few years ago. The store clerk a few weeks back? You do not want to see what was on his hard drive. All of them, vile humans. There is more evil in this world than you could possibly fathom, tesoro. They even tasted different…” he shrivelled his face in disgust, “but it keeps me alive, and my conscience semi-clear.”

The shock of his revelation did nothing to help your racing heart or foggy mind, processing everything far slower than you would like in this tumultuous situation.

“Suppose that was true, why do you keep their things?” you prodded further – there must be some part of him that enjoys it. Even if only the fact he were proud of removing scum from the earth, if that were true.

“Because I carry their souls with me… No matter how evil, they are people, and I take their life. Each one is a burden, and I must never forget that.”

There was genuine sorrow, genuine regret there. You could see it. But it changed nothing, he was still a murderer, a monster. And you were still trapped underneath him, literally backed up against a wall and inches away from deadly threat.

“But… it’s sick, Terzo! They’re kept like trophies, like you’re proud of what you do to them!” you protested. He hollowed his cheeks in annoyance, becoming more defensive as you accused him.

The hand that wiped your tears lowered to your neck, his fingertips tracing along the chain of the necklace you had yet to take off, until it reached the unusual pendant, where he played with it against your collarbone.

“And yet, you still wear it. You had time to take it off, if you were so disgusted by it. But here it is, looking so pretty around your… beautiful neck,” he sighed, his eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed skin he so clearly wanted to puncture and drink from. The fear in you started to rise again, your pulse that had just started to settle raising. More hot tears fell over your waterline as you took a deep, shaky breath.

“What… what do you want from me?” you pleaded, your voice trembling and squeaky. His eyes flickered up to yours, fingertips still playing with the pendant, grazing the skin so gently it left goosebumps. You would never admit to the thrill his touch seemed to be giving you, knowing what you know of him now.

But Terzo leaned in further, his hips meeting yours and pressing you further against the wall. The hand that had been keeping you caged against the wall all this time dropped to your waist, holding you just enough to send a wave of curious gratification through your abdomen. He was close enough that your noses would touch, should he tip his head down to you. You could feel his icy breath against your face again – a symptom of his state of undead, you now understood.

“I want you to love me, tesoro…” he confessed in a whisper, watching for your reaction.

“I only fear you,” you defied, unable to admit the curiosity his request sparked.

“Are they not the same?” His eyebrow arched up in question, waiting for your response. But honestly, you had none. You were dumbfounded, wondering what on earth he meant by that. Of course they weren’t the same, nothing about love and fear are the same. The attraction you had felt towards him in recent encounters was fleeting; a right place, right time kind of attraction. It had nothing to do with him, and now knowing what he was, it could never be him again.

Terzo understood your silence to be an internal monologue, a debate in your own mind. He pressed further, illustrating his point.

“Let me ask you, tesoro, does the thought of me make your hairs stand on end?” his fingertips grazed along the length of your collarbone, the grip on your waist squeezing slightly, “Does it make your stomach fill with the flutter of butterfly wings? Does it make your heart beat like the thrum of a hummingbird’s wings?”

You couldn’t deny it, but those were markers of fear as well as love. It didn’t mean they were synonymous. You refused to answer him.

“I can hear it, you know…” his hand flattened against your collarbone, “The pounding in your chest, the rushing of your blood through your veins. I hear them, working so hard when you are near me.”

Terzo leaned into your neck, his nose brushing against your jugular so tenderly as he breathed in deeply, enjoying your scent to the point of near intoxication. Little did you know, it was that scent that drew him out of hiding in the first place. He simply couldn’t stay away from you, and when he saw where the scent was coming from, saw your sheer beauty, he understood why you smelled as tempting as you did.

“Fear smells just like love to me, tesoro. It adds a sweetness to your already saccharine scent. Just like nectar appeals to a honey bee, you appeal to me much the same,” he continued to nuzzle his nose against your skin, his breath fanning over your collarbone. Every so often in his clumsy, inebriated state his lips would gently tickle the skin, sending a rush through you that now you were certain he could smell. “That nectar can be turned into honey, no? I wonder if I could do the same for you…”

You bit your lip, looking up towards the ceiling in an attempt to avoid his eyes that frankly were too hypnotic for their own good.

“They are all markers of fear, Terzo…” you whimpered. You felt his breath as he chuckled against your skin.

“Then tell me why I can smell the sweetest honey already pooling between your legs, cara mio…”

Your head snapped down to look at him, and you met his eyes already waiting for you, a smirk on his lips. You wanted to deny it, to slap him, to push him away from you but what was the point? He was right. There was no denying it. He could smell you.

The shame you felt, letting a monster like him have such an effect on you, was astronomical.

“Please…”  you pleaded; for what, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, cara mio? What can I give you?” he asked, straightening up and again cupping your cheek with his gloved hand, still holding your waist, still pressing his hips to yours. His lips were so close, all you could do was stare at them until you snapped yourself out of it, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Everything.”

It took no longer than a heartbeat for Terzo to process your answer, before his lips attached to yours so fast and hard you felt his fangs scrape against your bottom lip. A thrill zapped your core, and your balled up fists against his chest gripped the lapels of his coat to bring him impossibly close. You succumbed so quickly to him, desperate to feel his lips against yours.

While you were sure this feeling was not love, it was certainly not fear either. ‘Infatuation’ felt closer to the truth, borderline obsession just as Terzo had exhibited towards you. But denying it was futile now, and so instead, you leaned into it. The pair of you desperately held onto each other, kissing as if this was the only way you could get oxygen, and you’d been suffocating without each other.

Terzo started to move, trailing his passion down to your jawline, underneath your ear and down to your neck. Your heartrate quickened again, knowing that his mouth near your neck could go only one of two ways. Both options seemed to excite you in equal measures…

“W-will it hurt…?” you asked him, as you felt his fangs graze against your skin lightly, like he was holding himself back.

“Just for a second…” he panted like a dog laying out in the sun. And he wasn’t wrong, the pain would be momentary, his fangs emitting a small amount of venom that acts as an anaesthetic. That wasn’t the problem, and it wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks. “But I can’t…”

You cupped his cheeks, lifting his head to look him in the eye again. “What’s wrong?”

He looked as if he were in pain, his face screwed up in utter agony. He kept shaking his head, like he didn’t want to say it, like he was hiding a secret that would break him just to say aloud.

“If… If I do this, I might not be able to stop,” he whined, “and even if I do, how could I ever let you go after tasting you?”

You searched his eyes, saw the pain and the uncertainty in them. He truly didn’t want to hurt you, and right now he looked more vulnerable than you would think a creature of the night was capable of being.

“When you moved in I couldn’t leave you, I couldn’t stay away… And that was merely your smell, Tesoro. I’m afraid if I taste you, I could never leave you alone again.”

His admission floored you, and as much as the idea of giving yourself over to him willingly seemed to appeal to you, the rational part of your brain was still working enough to understand that that was a line that should not be crossed just yet.

“It’s okay… It’s okay,” you told him sincerely, comforting his distress before bringing his lips back to yours and resuming your heated exchange. Perhaps someday you would allow him that taste, a way of committing deeper than you could possibly comprehend at this stage. But there was a reason for the phrase “blood pact”, and it didn’t originate with the exchange of open wounds between two mortals.

As enthralled as he was in your lips, feeling your pulse beneath them tempting him, Terzo had to push the thought to the back of his mind. He couldn’t lose himself to the temptation so soon. He’d frighten you away if you saw him so feral, and he couldn’t let you disappear like everyone else in his life – not the only woman to ever have smelled so divine to him. Only he knew what that meant, that pull…  You were it for him. His obsession was unavoidable, you were his promised love.

It happened instantaneously for his kind, but for you? It would take time for you to see it, to feel what he felt. Human sense of smell was nowhere near as powerful, and so you could never know just by his scent that he was the one for you, the soul on the other end of the red string tied around your wrist.

To rid his mind of the temptation, he focussed on the moment at hand. His intense grip on your waste drifted over your hips and to the backs of your thighs until he was lifting them, using his hips to ground you against the wall so you wouldn’t fall. It was as if you were weightless to him, his inhuman strength making such light work of carrying you further down the hall and into your bedroom – his bedroom – until you both fell onto the bed.

No part of you thought for even a millisecond of stopping him, an intense need for him screaming from within you. You pushed his coat from his shoulders, diverting to his shirt buttons as soon as he began pulling at his sleeves to rid himself of the heavy wool. In no time at all, his chest was bare to you, peppered with dark hair that you’d expect from a man of Italian descent. You pulled him closer to you, reattaching your lips desperately.

His gloves disappeared as you kissed him, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the touch of his cold skin on yours, his hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt to hold you. He paused for a moment, searching your face for any sign his touch wasn’t welcome.

“Just cold…” you assured him, running your fingers through the dark locks of hair that had fallen over his face as he hovered above you.

“I, eh… sí, mi scusi, I am cold to the touch…” he apologised, a wave of insecurity flashing through his expression.

“I don’t mind,” you smiled sweetly, pulling him down with your hand woven into his hair and kissing his insecurity away. He regained his confidence, grip returning to your bare waist under your shirt and tightening with gratitude at your reassurance.

The way he kissed you was like worship, like he valued every second you allowed him to touch you, to be with you – and as he slowly began to undress you, his worship continued. He started with your shirt, pushing it up your abdomen and peppering the skin with more kisses as he exposed it. Over the curve of your breast peaking from above the cup of your bra, you felt the low rumble of a groan against your chest that was suppressed as he buried his face into your flesh. He was so gentle, so calculated in his motions and it was driving you crazy already.

Once your shirt was finally above your head and discarded somewhere to the side, he pulled the straps of your bra down, kissing along your shoulders and down your arms until he reached behind you to unclasp it. Your breasts bounced before him, and he immediately began to leave open mouthed kisses over them, laving his tongue over your nipples as they stood to attention under the chill of his lips. His free hand worked at your other breast, kneading like he was making the finest ricciarelli biscuit dough.

You couldn’t help the soft whines and hums that left your body as he worshipped you, hips rolling under him in a desperate attempt to feel something more. You wanted him so badly, already overcome with desire.

His hand came to rest on your hip, squeezing and he continued to suckle at your breast. His fingers dipped easily into the waistband of your paint-smeared sweats – one of several pairs you alternated when working on the house renovations. Before long, he was dragging them down your thighs, his cold knuckles grazing at the skin and sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

Terzo was taking his time without wasting any. He knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but he spent just enough time working your body, lavishing it to build anticipation. But before long, his kisses began to travel south, leaving a path of wet little marks down between the valley of your breasts and your navel until he was tracing the hem of your underwear, daring to run his finger along the sensitive skin.

It took a formidable amount of strength and restraint to keep your hips as still as you did, and even then, you were wriggling under his touch. But when he could tell you were growing restless, he wrapped his arm underneath your thigh and lifted it above his shoulder. Naturally, you spread wider for him, giving him complete access to your covered core where he could see so clearly the stain of arousal.

He was so close to you, the scent of your sweet honey so intoxicating. You could never understand how divine that scent was with your own human senses, but to him? It cemented itself in his memory. He knew that after today, he would never forget it. He didn’t want to rush, but frankly, it was getting impossible to resist a taste.

He lifted the hem of your panties and pierced the material beneath it with his fangs, easily tearing it away from your body before he pressed his nose to your mound, and took in a deep inhale. He growled between your legs, the vibration and exhale teasing your nerves until you were clenching around nothing.

He could wait no longer, his tongue reaching out to lap between your folds in one slow motion. He savoured the taste on his tongue, making sure to collect as much honey as he could for a truly overwhelming taste. You watched as his hips rocked into the bed below him, his hands tightening on your thighs. His tongue felt cold too, but the pressure was so welcome, a wave of euphoria passing through your core.

Expertly, Terzo used his whole mouth to bring you the pleasure he thought you deserved and yet, not once did you worry about the sharp fangs he’d used to strip you. He had the ability to retract them should he need to, and for this particularly delicate activity, he did just that. But his lips and tongue worked together to have you moaning at every lap, hips rolling underneath him.

Your hands found their way to his hair for purchase, tugging at the roots every time he sent a surge of pleasure through your clit. He loved it, moaning with you as if he too was close to an orgasm. Both of you had lost yourselves to the moment, completely enthralled in lust.

Terzo was becoming more and more desperate to have you finish on his tongue. Each pretty little sound he caused only made him want to hear more, and as you grew closer and closer to orgasm, you sweetened with added hormones that drove him wild. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and easily slid two fingers inside, not bothering nor needing to tease with how your body already gave itself over to him. He curled his fingers inside you, a shock of pleasure forcing your back to arch from the mattress as he found the perfect position.

His pace increased with every moan he elicited, the tension in your lower abdomen growing until you were on the verge of snapping.

“T-Terzo… Please,” you begged him. He chuckled darkly as he buried his face deeper within you, his nose adding to the equation and making your hips writhe until finally, that tension inside you snapped.

He didn’t stop, holding you down with inhuman strength as you erupted in cries of bliss. Your muscles contracted, thighs trapping his head in place and fingers pulling painfully at his hair.

Terzo slurped at your core, not letting a single drop of arousal go to waste. You tasted different as you came, the rush of hormones adding something so damn addictive that it wasn’t until you physically tried pushing his head away in oversensitivity that he snapped out of his trance, his head jolting up to look at you with his mouth and skin shimmering. He looked completely feral, his eyes wide, and you watched as his fangs returned with a snarl of a hungry animal locking onto its kill.

Your heart jumped in your chest; out of fear or lust you couldn’t be sure. But he heard it, the irregular thump as you lay vulnerable and weak beneath him. It only served to make his erection twitch in his slacks… Fear was a powerful feeling, and mixed with lust it was one of the most erotic combinations.

He crawled his way back up your body, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before diving into a punishing kiss that knocked any remaining wind out of you. You could feel his length pressing into your hip, and while you were certainly already struggling with exertion you wanted nothing more than to know how he’d feel inside you.

So you reached between you both for his belt, fiddling with the buckle as you kissed him. Taking the hint, he kicked his shoes off over the edge of the bed, and when you’d managed to undo his belt and slacks, he helped to kick them with his underwear passed his knees to follow suit. With him bared to you and pressing into your hip once again, you could feel just how endowed he was, and just how ready for you he was.

“You are so beautiful, cara mio…” he mused between kisses, his cold fingertips trailing down your neck and arm, then back up. “And you can’t ever understand how exquisite you taste.”

“To an extent, I can…” you teased with a flirty smile, “I can taste myself on your tongue.”

He stared down at you for a moment, until realisation finally settled and his lips curled into a devilish grin.

“Tu sei una tentatrice, amore mio… (you are a temptress, my love…)” he whispered, lowering himself to your lips once again.

As you both lost yourself in another steamy kiss, you couldn’t help rolling your hips up to meet his. He hummed into your mouth, understanding that you wanted him completely, and reached between the two of you to grip himself. You spread your legs a little wider to make it easier for him, feeling how he prodded at your entrance once he’d lined himself up.

“Are you sure, amore?” he stopped to ask, and you nodded, biting your lip to contain the smile as you cupped his cheeks. With your permission, he slowly pushed forwards, filling you slowly as he glided through your slick. You fought to keep your eyes open, if only to watch the look of bliss that overcame his face – and boy was it worth it.

He looked so ethereal, like his pale skin had been carved by the finest of Greek sculptors in marble burdened with the curse of perfection. The chill of his skin did nothing to quell the burning heat of yours, finding the perfect balance.

“You’re so… warm,” he moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he enjoyed the feeling for a moment. “Sembra fottutamente incredibile. (feels fucking incredible.)”

Given a moment to compose himself, he began to slowly rock his hips back and forth, gritting his teeth from the sensation alone. You would be the first to admit that he, too, felt incredible inside you, reaching places his fingers had only moments ago and sending waves of a dull pleasure through you once again at the embers of your last orgasm were being stoked.

His hand gripped your thigh and lifted it around his waist, obtaining a better angle and something for him to grip onto to stop his mind spiralling into sheer madness. Already, you were so difficult to resist; temptation was calling to him in the form of your steady, yet thundering pulse where his face lay against your neck. But if he lost himself, lost control like he was so terrified to, he was afraid resistance would fail him.

It was like torture. How could he feel so incredible pumping his length inside you while simultaneously experiencing the physical strain of holding his thirst back. You were his, he’d decided that long ago. But to truly make you his, all he would need to do was to give in, to sink his fangs into the skin he was peppering with kisses. He felt like a recovering addict desperately trying to resist as someone waved a hit under his nose. In some ways, that was exactly what he was.

But not yet. It was too soon. He had to resist for now, to let you make up your mind without ancient ritual influences before he allowed himself to truly make you his. He couldn’t bind himself to you, only for you to walk away when it all became too much, or hell forbid, you found someone more human to settle down with.

Instead, he focussed on the pleasure filling his cock as he pistoned in and out of you. He focussed on your pretty moans, and the way you clenched around him. He focussed on kisses to your neck instead of bites, groaning against your skin as he indulged in you. But too easily he lost himself, and soon he couldn’t help but drag his tongue from the bottom of your neck, to right underneath your ear.

You loved how it felt, completely oblivious to just how close you were to becoming a meal to him. To you it was simply another thing to drive you wild, and when you once again wrapped your fingers in his hair, your other arm pushing down on his back to pull him against you, you had no clue you were making it so much harder for him.

He kept suckling, licking, even nipping so gently at your neck – so fucking close to what he truly wanted as his instincts began to take over. He fought them as hard as he could snarling at himself in warning but still, you were oblivious to his internal fight and mistook his anguish for noises of pleasure.

Truly, he hadn’t meant to let it get this far; but when the sharp tip of his fang grazed just a little too close to where your pulse thundered against his tongue, and you writhed under him with a targeted hit to your g-spot, he nicked your skin just enough to draw the tiniest spec of blood… He hadn’t even noticed, your scent already filling his nose that he didn’t sense it intensify just a fraction until it was too late, and he’d laved his tongue over the graze.

It all happened too fast, then.

You were mid-moan when you felt an excruciating pain where his tongue had just been, the noise catching in your throat with a sudden choke. Your fingers naturally tightened in his hair, and your nails dug into the cold flesh of his back as a scream travelled its way through your ribcage and you couldn’t help but let it out. Your back arched and your muscles constricted, but Terzo’s hips never stopped and now that he’d got a taste of you – a real taste – he growled a visceral growl that you felt rumble in the pit of your stomach.

If he thought you’d tasted good between your legs, this was the most intensely delicious thing he’d ever had the pleasure of tasting. Such pure, untainted blood coated his tongue, dribbling down your neck as he ravished it. He’d known this was dangerous, that one bite would bind him to you for eternity after the first whiff of your scent when you moved in. But now that he’d tasted you, he couldn’t for the life of him remember why he’d fought so hard to stave off.

“T-Terzo, you-“ you tried to stop him, remembering how pained he’d looked when he explained why he really couldn’t do this, but it truly was too late. All it took was one drop. He cut you off with a hand clamping over your jaw, his other holding your hip in place with bruising force.

His hips never stopped, every sensation he felt only pushing him to fuck into you harder like a rabid monster. In that moment, that was exactly what he was. In that first split-second, he frightened you. You saw the side of him he’d tried so hard to hide, and coupled with the pain in your neck, your body flooded with adrenaline – which of course, only added to the sublime taste of your blood.

But like he had promised, the venom acted fast. The pain ebbed away into nothing but a sensation of being prodded and sucked at. Still you held onto him tightly, unable to deny that this was possible one of the most intimate feelings you’d ever felt, and the pleasure started to stack up.

Even to a point, where the rush of blood through the two puncture wounds in your neck became a pleasurable experience. You’d have trouble explaining just how, but it felt unbelievable, like a massage that tickled and sent endorphins flooding your mind. Little did you know, that was also the venom coursing through your body. But it didn’t matter, because coupled with Terzo’s cock thrusting against your g-spot it was the most glorious feeling in the entire world.

As you barrelled closer to a second orgasm, Terzo ripped his fangs from your neck and looked down at you beneath him. He had a look in his eye that was so predatory that you knew immediately you belonged to him now, whether you liked it or not. As luck would have it, you did like it; very much. That obsessive look, that ownership turned you on to a point that had you squealing for him beneath his hand.

Quickly, you reached your peak for a second time, holding him so tightly you thought that maybe even you would draw blood with your nails in his back. Just as that second burst of pleasure coursed through you, Terzo reattached himself to your neck, drinking in the newly sweetened blood that a rush of hormones created for him. If you could imagine the most expensive, and decadent wine you had ever tasted, it wouldn’t hold a candle to the taste of your blood to him right now.

Suddenly he lurched back again, this time removing his hands from your body and holding himself up, only to dive in and sink his fangs into the swell of your breast as it bounced with the force of each of his trusts. Again, you were met with pain the flooded your body but mixed with the high of your orgasm, you could only scream in pleasure. He drank from you again, kneading at your other breast as he too hurtled towards an orgasm.

The pain subsided quickly thanks to another dose of his venom, but he continued to drink from you, prolonging your euphoria just long enough for him to finally and violently reach his own high.

He erupted inside you, his head throwing back as he growled and lost his rhythm, pounding sloppily into you with each twitch of his cock. In your post-orgasm haze, you witnessed the look of bliss on his face, seeing for the first time the distinct red that coated his lips and dripped from his fangs down to his chin. He looked manic, but holy shit it was intensely erotic.

With the small amount of strength left in you, you sat up just enough to push your lips to his. You don’t know why you did it, or even that you had until you could taste the metallic twang of iron on your tongue. Terzo collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around you as he rolled to the side, taking you along with him. With the mess he created of your core, he slipped from inside you, now simply intent on holding you close while he processed that you were kissing him, despite being tainted with your blood. But it grounded him, and slowly, his orgasm subsided and his mind cleared of its fog.

Your kiss came to a natural end, the pair of you exhausted, and without a word you lay yourself on his chest, not bothering to wipe away the smears of blood around your own mouth as you caught your breath.

“I’m so sorry…” he whimpered, pulling you tighter against him and obscuring your view of his face so you wouldn’t have to witness the shame that settled there. You didn’t have the energy to speak, instead hoping that the circling of your thumb over the cool skin of his chest was enough comfort for now to show him you didn’t mind, that you’d wanted that as much as he had.

You let some time pass, calming yourselves down in each other’s arms. His grip on you lessened as the minutes passed, and eventually, you were able to look up at his face. To your shock and heartbreak, you noticed his cheeks were wet with something other than blood – Terzo was crying.

“Hey…” you soothed, shuffling further up the bed to hover above him. He covered his face with his hand, hiding himself but you pulled it away, cupping his cheek and swiping at the tear tracks. “No, no no… Stop this, it’s okay.”

“Mi dispiace tantissimo, (I’m so sorry,)” he cried, “I hurt you. I did the one thing I should never have done…”

“Shhh,” you hushed him like a newborn who couldn’t sleep, “I wanted that, remember? I told you you could.”

“You don’t understand, I… I have bound myself to you, and now, when you leave… it will devastate me,” he sobbed, staring straight up at the canopy of the large bed, unable to look you in the eye.

“What makes you think I will leave?” you asked him gently, still gently swiping his fresh tears away whilst fighting your own.

“Amore mio, I have lost everybody I have ever cared about,” he told you, finally looking you in the eye. “I have either outlived them, or watched as they turned their back on me. And now I have selfishly bound myself to you, knowing that I cannot ever let you go.”

His admission broke your heart. You certainly had no intention of going anywhere, the bond you now shared with him feeling strangely cemented and more intimate than any you’d had with another. But in the end, time would come for you just as it had the rest of his family, lying under the earth of your own back garden.

“How does someone… become like you?” you asked tentatively, absentmindedly, playing with the chest hair the covered his pecks.

Terzo’s brow creased in confusion. “Why would you ask such a thing? I couldn’t condemn you to a life like this…” After all he’d been through; the killings, loss, isolation, and even the exile he’d faced decades ago when the townspeople discovered what he was… He couldn’t put you in a position like that. He didn’t want you to become part of the dark legend of the Emeritus house, another spooky story passed from generation to generation to tell around campfires for years to come.

“Just tell me, how?” you pressed. He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow and staring back up at the canopy.

“You would need to drink the blood of my kind,” he stated simply, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “I could not ask that of you. The process is not an easy one, and to become like me is to be condemned to a life of heartache.”

You thought for a moment, acknowledging his concerns but deciding that whilst that had been his experience, it didn’t need to be yours. Not with him beside you – neither of you would need to be lonely ever again.

“I’m so sorry you’ve felt that heartache, but I believe that the two of us together could avoid that.”

He raised his head to look at you again, examining your face for a moment while he contemplated what some kind of future might look like with you.

“Perhaps not yet, I understand. But Terzo, I will prove that I intend on going nowhere. And when you feel like you might be ready to trust that, I’ll be waiting,” you promised him, cupping his jaw and stroking your thumb gently over his cheek. “Until then, I can be your very own personal supply, hm?” you smiled, “You won’t need to take a life, so long as you have me little and often, right?”

“You… would do that? For me?” his eyebrows creased together in question, truly in disbelief you would offer him such a thing.

“Mhm,” you nodded, “I mean as long as every time feels as incredible as that,” you giggled. “And besides, you’ll get a decent meal at least once a month,” you joked, lightening the mood a little with a cheeky smirk.

Terzo rolled his eyes with a laugh that vibrated his chest beneath you. He shook his head at the absurdity of your offer, no matter how technically practical that sort of arrangement would actually be to a man of his kind.

“Oh, amore… sei davvero una tentatrice (you really are a temptress)…” he grinned, leaning up to capture your lips in a sweet, blood-stained kiss.

A/N: Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading! If you'd like to leave me a tip, you can do so here.

If you'd like to read any of my other works, you can find them here.

[hkthatgffan]

Kiki-Kit Situation Update

Bit of an update to this post from the other week.

Details are all in that post but as a refresher, Kiki-Kit, one of the Gravity Falls fandom's better known/longtime artists, had been taking commissions from multiple people and despite everyone paying her in full, she had yet to fulfill their comms with some waiting up to 5 years with no update. And what made it especially troubling was that she had not communicated with anyone and even blocked one person who had tried to talk about it.

I also had gotten a commission from her in February and have been waiting on it since without her responding at all to me after saying my payment went through. Well, since then we have at least one little update about this...

@foxieskullz tweeted that she has since gotten a refund from Kiki-Kit. She also sent me proof of the refund and Kiki saying she'd pay her back.

This is of course great as Foxie had been of course, waiting since 2019 for her comm that Kiki had practically ghosted her over. It is like she said, disappointing it had to end up happening this way but at least now she has gotten her money back and hopefully in some way, through word finally spreading about all this, able to put it behind and move on from this mess, albeit with perceptions of Kiki greatly changed for the worse.

Of course, this does not mean everything is all good. Kiki has not yet gotten back to me or anyone else about our commissions. I've not heard a single thing publicly or privately from Kiki about this. Neither has anyone else I mentioned in the original post and of course, people like Jolliejackdaw, who Kiki blocked, are still waiting for a response...

Not only that, but the original post I made also has led to more people coming out and mentioning their own situations with Kiki and her not fulfilling their commissions.

So, while it is good to see Kiki-Kit actually working to respond to and refund someone, it's still just the tip of the iceberg. There are many, MANY more people who are waiting for an update.

And like I said in the original post, this isn't a hit job on an artist because she's not finished a commission. This is about lack of communication or transparency from her about why she has not responded to our messages and won't listen when we've had enough and just want a refund. Kiki-Kit could have easily handled this all privately by just being better at communicating with her clients. We're all understanding and patient and would more than have been okay with waiting however long for our comms if she had let us know that properly beforehand (and yes, she did that in June but also said she'd have comms finished soon and didn't deliver then either and also never followed up with an update or even responded to anyone who DM'd her including me). Even a simple, hello would have been okay instead of all this ghosting.

I do hope she does right these wrongs. I honestly do not believe Kiki is a bad person or trying to scam people. It would be truly vile and heartbreaking if that really was the case. But you can't say she hasn't left that perception of herself on so many of us, myself included. I do believe she can still resolve all of this if she just communicates better. Make a post saying you're gonna give people who commissioned you a chance to message you (and you actually responding to them this time) and let you know if they wanna continue with it or get a refund and then commit to either giving those people a refund or fulfilling what you were paid for!

I wanna thank also everyone who shared and spread the word on the original post. Even on my end, making a post like that was difficult to do to say the least. Calling out people, especially someone as major and long time in the fandom who I respected like Kiki is not something I wanna do, ever wanted to or thought I would do. But hearing all the stories from so many people who like me, have been waiting for an update from her and haven't gotten any, really made me realize enough was enough and someone had to make this issue known to a greater set of eyes. I don't like using my platform for stuff like this but this was something that had reached a point where it was no longer showing results through the proper channels of communication Kiki had set up. If you're not gonna respond to DM's, emails and tweets from people who have paid you and you have yet to fulfill their work or even give them an update when they want you to and given you ample time to do so, then you leave us with no choice other than to go this way.

I hope you do see this, @kiki-kit. Please get in touch with us who you have taken on a commission from and please just talk to us. Please give us a chance to either get a refund or give us a solid timeline on when our commissions will be done. No one will hate you if you need to take time to finish it. But just please, stop ghosting us and actually reply to your customers when they email or DM you for an update or at most, give a reason why it may take longer. That's all.

Sincerely again,

Every person who has paid you for a commission and still has yet to hear back from you and every Gravity Falls fan who your work inspired and hopes that you make things right

[kirbyluvr63]

need f1 fanfic recs

im SO fucking glad you asked!

im gonna give you some of my favs here and youll kinda notice a pattern, i guess! im about to expose my whole psyche in front of you.

first, one of my favorite ships is maxiel! but i particularly love anything that explores daniel's character specifically, so my first rec is an entry on Daniel Ricciardo's Internalized Homophobia Fic Fest!

heart's a mess by nunnit - just a great character study of internalized homophobia and trying to no-homo your way out of your own life until you lose the one guy you really loved. warning: there's a bittersweet ending! ships: Jenson Button/Daniel Ricciardo; Cyril Abiteboul/Daniel Ricciardo; Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen; Daniel Ricciardo/Blake Friend; Daniel Ricciardo/OMC

Montreal Bounds by ellipsis99 - this one has a happy ending! daniel's in a complicated relationship with a guy who has a girlfriend and max makes him reconsider a bunch of stuff. ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen; Daniel Ricciardo/Scotty James; (brief Max Verstappen/Pierre Gasly)

pale green things by yekoc - historical fiction set during the tulip fever where jos is a rich tulip trader that commissions daniel to paint a portrait of max for his fiancee. yekoc is a GREAT author, i recommend anything by them! ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

glory, from a high rise by yekoc - speaking of, another BANGER from yekoc. daniel works at a bar and max is a neurotic alcoholic office worker who's also horny as all hell. there's some commitment issues involved as well. it's perfect. ships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen

honorable mentions:

a body wishes to be held and held by CamilleDuDemon

All We Knew of Home by LoveLeah

mon voisin by kitversuskat

now, my second favorite ship, my actual favorite drivers on the grid and the ones i cheer for: galex! <3

table in the back by crescenteluce - if you love miscommunication you'll love this one, the dialogue is so precise like you can clearly see how one would misinterpret what the other is saying and at the same time you get why the other person didn't even realize a misunderstanding happened aaaaaaarrrrgghhhh it's a bit infuriating too but so so good. ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

footnote in someone else's happiness by finedae - in this one george and alex kind of have a fucked up relationship... they break up so george can date women and fit in the box expected of him, but stays in touch with alex and alex has to, as the author put it themselves, keep things real. ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by prettyrotten - this ones also crazy good and revolves around miscommunication.. i guess this is my favorite trope for them for some reason. george humiliates himself to keep his relationship with alex who just decides how george feels and makes things shitty for everyone. must warn you that i almost cried with this one, very angsty, but with a happy ending! ships: George Russell/Alex Albon

honorable mentions:

take care of you (take care of me) by ginnydear

Strike a Pose by amphibiangeorgerussell

carry you home (orphan work)

another ship that i adore is charlos! their dynamic is very interesting to me... between them and between ferrari and also i just like carlos and want to study him under a microscope. can't wait to find out how his chemistry will play out with alex once they're teammates tbh

In for a penny, in for a pound by chiliconcarlos - this one's the quintessential charlos fic; a required reading, if you will. charles gets drunk and hires an escort to accompany him at a wedding so he doesn't show up alone in front of his ex. he thinks he hired a female escort, but then carlos shows up and... the rest is history. just a very very good fic. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

the same as all those men by almondmilkk - idk about you but i'm obsessed with cowboys and this is THE cowboy au... carlos has a lot of repressed feelings and internalized homophobia and charles just doesn't give a fuck anymore, it's glorious. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

my blood is singing with your voice (the saints can't help me now) by choripan - if you like catholic guilt, this one's for you! there's a lot of religious imagery in this one and it's just... chef's kiss. charles and carlos meet at an abandoned church while on vacation at mallorca with their respective families. ships: Carlos Sainz Jr/Charles Leclerc

honorable mentions:

semiotic study by linearity

says he's gonna teach me just what fast is by foggystars

can't sleep 'til I feel your touch by chiliconcarlos

and now.... for my most deranged ship: george and lance. "WTF??" you may ask, and i say "don't knock it till you try it!" think of it this way: george is stuck up and hates himself a little and lance is just there and doesn't give a fuck and is the pillowest of princesses. unfortunately few see the vision so there isn't much, but i can't recommend enough Lesson Learned by bottomtxt who's also one of my favorite fanartist here on tumblr and the one who opened my eyes to this AMAZING ship dynamic! finger trap by rivalism is my other recommendation for this criminally underrated ship!

and this is it! i hope you'll enjoy it

ps.: sorry for taking a while but as you can see i was taking this very seriously and i had some college stuff to get done at the same time etc etc... feel free to keep talking to be about it, tho :)

[fallingdownhell]

https://at.tumblr.com/fallingdownhell/sumeru-men-when-your-sisterbest-friend-tries-to/nwf4h3unm1ah

Could I request this ⬆️ but with Ayato, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Zhongli? Also, reader actually steps up and nearly goes apeshit with the "friend".

No angst, please!

Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear. I'm trying my best for readers part, but I can't promise anything.

Also, this escalated quite a bit... hope none of you mind the length of this thing. I just don't know how to keep things short and simple

Characters included: Ayato, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Zhongli

Content: Gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your best friend; she tries to convince them to dump reader; some cursing; slightly suggestive on Ayato's part; not proof read yet!

Word count: 7.9k words

As always, thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!

Ayato

I feel like Ayato is a man who would get into a relationship for one of two reasons

Number one would be it being a political type of thing, where the relationship and potential marriage would greatly benefit the Yashiro commission

Or he would not even consider the commission and just date you purely because he fell instantly in love with you and really just wants to court you

but regardless of what the reason might be, he would be loyal to you under any circumstances

he knows that there are many people out there who want to be on his good side, some of them even after his wealth and status

and yet, he would fight off anyone who would dare court him while being in a relationship with you

in that aspect, he learned a great deal from Thoma, so you better be grateful to him

It was a typical slow, mentally draining day for Ayato as the Yashiro commissioner yet again. Many people come to him with their problems, expecting him to magically have the solutions for them at the ready. It's not like he is some kind of know-it-all magician, capable of solving every little issue in this world. Yet people obviously believe him to be exactly that.

Honestly, it's exhausting most of the time. It was quite common for him to work late into the night, like it happened today again. When he finally leaned back a bit to stretch his sore back, he heard a soft knock on his office door. Knowing who would await him at the other side, he mumbled a soft "come in".

You slid the door open, revealing the form of your boyfriend to you. Instantly noticing his tired expression, you went to his side, gently holding his face in your hands.

"You have been working too much", you say after a long while of each of you staring into the others eyes.

You hear a low chuckle from him as he closes his eyes, and leans more into your touch. Having yearned for it the entire day and now finally being able to enjoy it again was one of the best feelings in the world to Ayato.

"You're right, my dear. As you are so often. How about we retreat for today?"

You were inclined to accept his offer, but just as you were about to do so, you remembered one other crucial detail.

"We can, after you eat something. You haven't done that today, have you?"

And as if to betray him, his stomach made a low rumbling sound just as Ayato was about to tell you a little white lie, that it wasn't so bad. Instead, he looked away from you as you giggled at the perfect timing.

"See? Now, you clean up here while I go and get you some light snack. Let's meet in our room, okay?"

He agrees and you gave him a quick kiss to the tip of his nose as a parting gift, before you made your way out of the room, silently, as to not disturb the other servants and residents from their slumber.

Ayato looks after you and as you're out the door, begins to make quick work of his tasks. It's not much to do anyways. Just pack away his writing utensils, stack and organize a few stray documents that he will worry about the next day.

While in the middle of doing this, he heard a soft knock on the door again. Ayato wonderd to himself why you would need to knock when you agreed to meet back at your room. And also, you two should be the only ones awake at this hour anyways.

Still, he answeres the knock with a simple "Yes?". Instead of an answer, the door to his office slid open again, but this time revealing a different figure to him.

He recognized her, a servant of the Yashiro Commission and also a dear friend to you. Though, he did wonder why she was awake at this hour as well.

"Do you need something?", he asked her as she just stood there, not saying a word.

"I... saw that the light was still on and just wanted to check on you, Lord Kamisato. It's getting quite late. Are you alright?"

"I see. I appreciate your concern, but I am quite alright. I'll be retiring for the night shortly."

After he said that, her eyes seemed to light up, but she quickly tried to hide it.

"O-oh, is that so?", she quielty mumbled as she took a few steps into the room, towards Ayato. He eyed her suspiciously, but refrained from saying or doing anything. She stopped in her tracks when she was standing only a few inches away from him.

"Do you want me to keep you company for the night?", she whispered, trying to sound seductive while she put one of her hands on Ayato's chest and looked up at him through her lashes.

In response to that, Ayato quickly snatched her wrist, holding her in a tight grip. Although, she seemed to interpret that gesture the wrong way, as a smile krept up her lips.

"Oh? That eager, Lord Kamisato?"

"You do know that I have a spouse, right?", he said firmly, still holding her wrist tightly.

"Oh please. As if someone as boring as (name) could ever please a man like you. You can admit it, you know. I can see that they are not enough for you. You can have so much more fun with me.", she purred at him, now putting her other hand on his chest.

It made Ayato want to throw up. Every fiber of his body was repulsed by this woman, her words and her actions. He just wanted to deal with this situation as quickly as possible, to get away from her and return to the comfort of your arms. He didn't care if he came across as rude, he did not care for her feelings. After all, she did just insult you in front of him, and he would not stand for that.

So, Ayato finally let go of her hand and took a step back to gain some distance between them. However, that didn't seem to appease her, as she was quick to follow him, that wicked smile still present on her lips. In that case, he had to resort to words as his weapon of choice against this woman.

"Stop this nonsense right now. I have no idea where you got the impression that I am the slightest bit interested in you, but that assumption is just wrong. Plus, I am not the type of man to just go behind my partners back like that."

"Aww, come on. Don't be such a killjoy. Plus, they don't have to know. I won't say anything if you don't~"

"Well, I already know. How about that?", you suddenly chime in, both Ayato and the woman jumping a bit at the sudden sound of your voice behind them. You were leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of you and a dark expression on your face, directed at the person you thought to be a friend of yours.

"I was wondering what took you so long, dear. If I had known you were trying to fend off some filthy pest, I would have come to your rescue sooner.", you continued as neither of them said anything at your entrance. Your words and expression briefly becoming warmer as they were directed towards your lover, but quickly turning dark again when you turned back to the woman in front of you.

You waited a few more seconds, waiting for her to come up with some kind of excuse or something, but nothing came. So, you sighed, pushing yourself off the doorframe and slowly approaching the two of them.

"Glad that I finally got to see your true character. I always thought something was off about you, but still, I never would have taken you for one of those people." Your tone was low and dark, as you came to a halt in front of her.

"Now, you better screw off before I loose the last bit of my temper. And you better never approach any of us again, you hear me, bitch?"

You spat the last few words at her and she quickly ran out of the room, leaving you and Ayato behind. You looked after her for a few more seconds, before a deep sigh finally left your lungs and you turned around to your boyfriend, who was looking at you with a smirk on his lips.

"What?"

"Oh nothing... But, I have to admit, you're cute when you're jealous, (name)."

"Pffft, please. Me? Jealous? Of her? When I'm the one already dating you and having you all to myself?", you laughed, slowly beginning to relax again.

And Ayato still smirked as he began to lean down towards you. "True, I do belong to you. But maybe, it's time you lay claim on me again for everyone else to see as well.", he mumbled before he pulled you into a passionate kiss, a promise for the night in front of you..

Kaeya

Kaeya is a flirt, you and everyone else is very much aware of that fact

though when in a relationship, he would tone down that side of his personality. It's not completely gone, but compared to before it's like you're looking at an entirely different person

but you don't dislike this teasing and flirty side of him. It's part of his charm after all. So long as it's always directed at you and no one else..

Most people would believe Kaeya is more the type to play around than to actually bind himself to another. They also don't believe him to be a loyal person

Well, those people couldn't be farther from the truth. Because of his past, Kaeya is afraid of letting people close to him again. So if you were to manage to do just that and gain his trust.. you best believe that he will never let you go again, no matter what might be thrown his way

The music that was playing in the background of the tavern was as loud as usual. Kaeya was used to it at this point, the comfort of the Angel's Share being as trusted of a companion as the sword by his side.

It was a routine by now that he would swing by the tavern after his duties as a knight had been dealt with for the day. Usually, he would sit at the counter with either Venti or Rosaria to keep him company, sometimes even both at the same time. Those instances were always sure to escalate, so he was kinda glad it didn't happen too often.

Today however, neither of his usual companions were available, so he was doomed to sit at the counter all by himself. But that was quite alright, since he didn't plan on drinking that much anyways. After all, he was merely here to pass time waiting on you to finish your work, so he could take you on the date he promised to take you on today after you both were free.

But since he was done much sooner than you were, he had some time to kill, and the tavern was the first thing that came to his mind. So, he went to your place of work, to let you know that he would meet you there once you were done.

As Kaeya downed his second drink of the evening, he pointed for Charles, the barkeeper, to get him another one, while listening to the music some bard was playing. He was standing next to the entrance and Kaeya had to admit, that his music was rather good. It was a cheery, easygoing melody that went well with the laughter all across the tavern.

It seemed to be one of the bussier nights for the staff of the Angel's Share, seeing as the tavern was packed full of people, some of them already quite intoxicated even though it was still a fairly early evening.

Still, the loud atmosphere was relaxing to Kaeya and he only stopped looking around himself when his next drink was handed to him. Thanking Charles with a nod, Kaeya grabbed the mug and downed a few more sips, when he suddenly got a well-known feeling..

The feeling of being watched.

He tried scanning around the interior of the tavern again without looking conspicuous, but couldn't detect anyone who seemed to be watchful of him.

When the feeling subsided again, Kaeya also began to relax again. He hadn't realized how on edge he became just from that, so he let out a deep exhale. It did make him feel a bit better, but only for a few seconds, before he felt a presence now occupying the free stool next to him.

He turned his head towards that person, cautious of he he might find, when he recognized the figure to be your best friend.

Now, normally, any other person would relax upon seeing a familiar face, but not Kaeya. Not in this situation.

He always had a suspicion, that she was into him. She never made any advances towards him, but that could have been because you were always there with him. Kaeya had never been alone with her until now. And with the way she was eyeing him up and down while smirking at him, he was inclined to think that his suspicion was, indeed, correct.

"Well, would you look at that. What's the cavalry captain of the knights doing here, in this tavern, all by himself?", she began to speak. It was easy for Kaeya to detect the slight slur in her voice, indicating that she already had quite a few drinks already.

Still, he decided to play nice with her and entertain the both of them for the time being. Maybe some company wouldn't be so bad and he did still harber some hope that his assumption could be wrong after all.

"Enjoying a drink, obviously. What else would one be doing at a tavern?", he answered, the usual polite smile returning to his face. To everyone else, it might come across as sincere, but you now know that there was a difference. For a real, sincere smile coming from Kaeya was quite a rarity. But, the woman across him didn't know that, so she happily induldged in the conversation.

"Obviously, I know that. But, why all alone? I never see you without a certain someone accompanying you." Her words carried a distinct amount of poison in them when mentioning you. It didn't sit right with Kaeya at all.

"Oh, I'm actually waiting on them to finish their work. I promised them a date so that't where I'm taking them."

At the mention, her smile dropped and the look on her face changed to an annoyed one. "Seriously? God, Kaeya! When are you finally gonna dump her?!", she snapped at him, standing up from her stool so she could stand in front of him, mere inches away from him.

"Excuse me?", was all Kaeya was able to say, trying to lean back as much as possible to create space between them, but she didn't care for that. Instead, she got even closer, dangerously so, and Kaeya was beyond uncomfortable with the situation.

"You heard me. I wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you, but you never acknowledged me. And as soon as (name) comes along, you're all over them and completely ignore me!

I hate them so much! When are you finally gonna realize that I would be so much better for you? Just dump their lazy ass, they're never gonna be something big anyway. Come to my side, Kaeya!" As she said all that, she simultaneously began to claw on his clothes. Kaeya tried to push her away, but it seems that people were right when they said that drunk people seem to gain some kind of unexplainable strength.

"Are you out of your mind? NO! Now get off of me!", he yelled instead, still trying to get himself free. But she ignored it, instead reaching behind his neck and pushing his head down, trying to force a kiss onto him.

"AHH!", she yelled not even a second later, both in surprise and pain as her head got pulled back by her hair suddenly. She managed to pull herself free and both her and Kaeya were surprised to see you standing there, now putting yourself between the woman and your boyfriend. A furious look on your face, you seemed like you were about to loose your temper.

"He already said no, you bitch. You're really going so far as to assault someone because you don't get it your way? That's a new low, even for you." Your voice was ice cold and Kaeya shivered a bit from it, but he also had to admit that he did like this protective side of you. It was something he didn't get to see very often.

"I was just trying to safe him from your pityful grasp. He deserves someone better!"

"You mean, someone better like you? Come on, don't make me laugh. Who in their right mind would want a dirty street rat like you?", you lauged at her as she looked at you with shock. "Now fuck off before I completely loose myself."

That last sentence from you came out completely serious and cold, both her and Kaeya knew that you would not hesitate another second to fight her off if you had to. With one last, longing look at the man behind you, she grabbed her stuff and ran out the tavern door, leaving the two of you behind.

You let out a loud sigh as she was finally gone, turning around to Kaeya. "Are you okay?", you asked him, worry now written all over your face.

He smirked a bit, slipping out of his stool so he now stood in front of you, leaning down so he could put a hand to your cheek. "I am.", he whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your forehead. "Thanks for fending her off. That was really sexy."

You rolled your eyes at that, but didn't say anything against it. Instead, you pulled Kaeya in for a soft, sweet kiss. Both of you smiled before you finally made your way out of the tavern and to where Kaeya promised to take you.

Diluc

Oh boy.. I really love Diluc, but let's be honest here.. he has a lot of issues, that would directly pass over to the relationship, if he ever were to enter one

abandonment issues, trust issues, self worth.. Diluc has a lot of struggles

he makes sure to let you know beforehand, so you can back out of it if it's too much for you to handle. He won't go into any details, but he gets his point across

Now, if you decide to stay with him and help him work through all this, he would be head over heels in love with you. For someone to know everything about him, including his bad sides, and still deciding to stay with him?

He honestly never thought this would happen to him. Which is why he's all the more glad that you stayed and proved him wrong

It was the late afternoon and Diluc was still in the process of getting himself ready and presentable.

Today was the day of your one year anniversary and he had promised to take you on a cute little stargazing picnic. He had been looking forward to this day the entire week, trying to finish as much of his work as early as possible, so that nothing would come in the way today.

He checked his outfit over one more time in the mirror, looking for any holes or other form of dirt, but couldn't find anything. Then, he moved on to his hair, trying to tie it into a high ponytail. He knew that you loved it when he wore his hair like that, and he didn't mind it either way, so why not.

After all, Diluc wanted to spoil you today. Although technically this day is for the both of you, he just couldn't help but want to make it all about you. Because, after all, you were the one who chose to stay with him. To love him and show him that it was okay for him to love you as well.

It took some time, and he is still nowhere near a perfect partner for you, but he is trying. And you always tell him that him trying is more than enough for you and that you couldn't and would never ask anything more than that from him.

Diluc was so glad that you stumbled your way into his life. It may sound cliché, but he truly has no idea where he would be in life if you weren't there by his side to help guide him in the right direction.

Dare he even say, it was also thanks to you and your effort, that he is now slowly starting to reconcile with Kaeya. Their relationship was still rocky after years and years of miscommunication and suppressed feelings, but it was slowly starting to pick up and move into a... better direction, for lack of a better word.

He had so much to thank you for, and he swore to pay you back for it every day of his life that he got to spend with you. You would forever be the best thing to happen in his life, and he didn't care how down bad that sounded.

As he was finally done with preparations, and giving himself one last glance through the mirror, a soft knock on the door brought him out of his head and back into reality. Confusion written over his face even more, as Adelinde opened the door and walked a few steps into the room.

"My apologies, Master Diluc, but it would seem that you have a visitor. I informed her of the bad timing and to come back another time, but she insisted. I directed her towards your study room, she is waiting for you in there.", she informed him, her head lightly bowed down.

"Thank you, Adelinde. I will deal with them shortly.", Diluc answered, though obviously annoyed at the situation.

Why today? And why now?

All he wanted was for you and him to spend a nice evening together. And now someone wasn't even going to allow him that? Not if he had a say in it. He would just go in there and deal with the visitor swiftly, then make his way to Mondstadt, where he promised to pick you up.

Once he made sure that he was presentable so he wouldn't have to return to his room again, he went out and closed the door behind him. He walked quickly, having a goal already in his mind, so he wanted this situation to be over as soon as possible.

He gave to quick knocks to the door of his study room, to inform the person inside of his arrival, before opening the door and stepping inside.

Upon his entry, a woman who until now had been sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs stood up, facing his way. It took Diluc a moment, but he soon recognized the figure as a close friend of yours. He saw her from time to time, but he never had much to do with her, they never had an extended talk or conversation, so Diluc had no idea why she was here now and what she could want from him.

"You came..", she said, like she couldn't actually believe it.

"It would be quite rude of me to just leave a guest and not greet them, wouldn't it? So, please, state your business with me. And, not to sound rude, but please make it quick. I have somewhere important to be in a bit."

"That's why I'm here..", she mumbled quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!", she exclaimed, a little startled. Trying to mask her nervousness with a chuckle, she began to play with her hair while looking everywhere else but at the man standing in front of her.

A good minute passed without her saying anything else and Diluc was growing more and more annoyed with her. Was she just here to waste his time?

"Look, if you have nothing to discuss with me, then-!"

"No! I- I mean, I do have something to discuss. I just.. don't know where to start..", she got quiet near the end again, making it hard for Diluc to understand her, but he did.

"If this will require more time, I have to ask you to move it to another day. I really don't have the time right now.", Diluc simply replied, already kind of mad at her that he wasted more time here than he had to. He turned around and was about to leave, when the woman behind him spoke up again.

"I like you!", she yelled, which caused Diluc to halt in his steps and turn to look at her, a bewildered look on his face.

"What did you say?"

"I like you, Diluc. I have for a long time. But I never had the courage to tell you and then (name) got in the picture. Honestly, I hated them the moment you and them got together.

They took you from me! It should be me by your side, not them! I deserve you so much more than some pesky lowlife like them!", she still yelled, but was now slowly moving towards Diluc.

The man, still surprised by what was happening right now, didn't move away, and she apparently took that as a sign to continue on her little rant.

"I know you think that you love them, but trust me, you don't. You may feel like that now, but I am the one meant for you. I can make you so much happier than you could ever think. Just give me a chance, Diluc.", she pleaded as she arrived in front of him.

She extended an arm, about to lay her hand on his shoulder, when he suddenly caught her wrist mid air. His grip was tight, and the look he threw at her full of disgust. She flinched a bit as she saw that, but still tried to stand her ground.

"Listen closely", Diluc said, his tone hard and cold, as he looked into her eyes, unforgiving. "(Name) will forever be the only one for me. No one else could ever hope to come close to what they mean to me. Especially not you. The fact that you came here, to berate and talk bad about someone who thinks of you as their friend, trying to steal their lover away. And for what? Some silly illusion you created in your head?

My top priority will always be (name). No one will ever come inbetween me and them, no matter what you might say or come up with."

He quickly let go of her wrist now, like her skin was suddenly made out of some kind of acid and it burned him on the touch. The look of disgust still evident on Diluc's face, as he took a step back towards the door.

"Now, please excuse me but I have a date to go on with my lovely parnter. And just to be perfectly clear, I would advise you to stay away from them and me from now on. And if I were to catch wind of you putting out rumors about them, I will not hesitate to act against you."

With that being his parting words, Diluc left the study room and made his way down to the main hall, where Adelinde was waiting down by the stairs.

"Please escort our guest out of the mansion as soon as possible. And make sure to let the other staff know that she is not welcome back here anymore.", Diluc informed Adelinde, who bowed her head in understanding.

"As you wish, Master Diluc. I wish you a pleasant night.", she said, before making her way up the stairs.

After that, Diluc left the mansion and made his way back to the city of Mondstadt. He appreciated the walk, as he was able to clear his head a bit before he would see you again, which was just what he needed after that encounter.

Once he arrived and saw you waiting for him by the fountain, all the negative emotions within him washed away again, his heart feeling at peace.

He greeted you with a soft kiss, which you reciprocated. He took you with him to Windrise, where the two of you would have your picnic. On the way there, he told you all about what had happened just about a few hours prior to your reunion.

It was fair to say that you considered the friendship with her to be over and you thanked Diluc over and over again for defending you, while also apologizing to him that he had to deal with that in the first place. But not to worry, because you made it more than up with the cuddles he got from you afterwards.

Childe

Childe is a family person through and through

Like, they have the final say wether his relationship whit you would last or not. Not in the sense of approval, more like if you get along with his parents and siblings

If they like you and you also get along with them well, he would be over the moon

also has a pretty high rank thanks to his position as a fatui harbinger, so people know not to mess with either of you, unless they want to be punished

Childe, I think, is actually one of the most loyal Genshin boys

He would stop at absolutely nothing to ensure your safety and to make you feel loved. The only way he would allow this relationship to end, is if either one of you would be to fall out of love with the other. But, at least for his part, that probably won't ever happen

Since his return to Snezshnaya a few days ago, Childe has been stuck in his office at the fatui headquarters. It was required of him to finalize his reports on his latest missions, which meant for him to sit in his office the entire day, write paper after paper, then return home in the evening, only to resume the process the next day.

It has been tiring for him. He never would have thought that dealing with paperwork could be this tiring. No wonder the higher ranking harbingers all have some kind of sectretary who do that work for them.

In fact, Childe has been so tired out from writing these reports, that he didn't get any proper training in these days. Instead, he always returned right back home to your side, almost always falling on top of you on the couch. If it weren't for you keeping him somewhat coherent, he would instantly pass out on the couch, not to be woken up until the next morning. You gently kept him awake long enough for him to take a shower and eat dinner with you, before you both went to bed together, where Childe hugged you even closer to him.

It has become some kind of new routine at this point and although you didn't mind it all that much, you clearly saw how exhausted your boyfriend was from all this. Even more so since he wasn't able to pursue his usual stress relief with the training.

You could clearly see how tired he still was, sitting next to you eating his breakfast, his eyes looking almost blank and lifeless. It made your heart ache at the sight.

"So.. do you know how much longer it'll take until you've finished all the reports?", you cautiously asked, not wanting to stress him out even more in the early morning hours.

"At least a few more days..", Childe quietly answered, the weariness clearly evident.

You thought about what you could do to make him feel a little better, at least, when an idea sparked in your head.

"Well, I can't really help you with your work, but, if you want to, I could bring you lunch today. Your mom taught me how to make your favourite."

At that, his eyes visibly brightened up as he looked at you. "Really? When did that happen?"

"While you were out on your mission in Liyue. I had some time on my hand and I thought it would be a nice surprise but I didn't get around to making it yet.", you answered, glad that such a simple thing was able to cheer your boyfriend right back up.

He got up and engulfed you in a big hug, placing little kisses all over your face. "Thank you, (name). I love you so much."

You giggled as you guys spend the rest of your morning together before it was time for Childe to leave again.

...

His mood this day was by far better than the days before, and his underlings had no idea wether that was a good thing or if their impending doom was approaching them.

But as more hours went by and nothing drastic had happened yet, they decided that it had to be something good.

Childe was constantly humming in his office, the writing part was getting much easier now that he got a hang of it. The occaissonal troop came into his office every now and then, awaiting for new orders from him.

He dealt with them every time before resuming his reports until one particular group came to him. He knew one of the members better than the others, namely because it just so happened that she was a friend of yours, who joined the ranks of the fatui a few weeks ago.

She got assigned under Childe, but they haven't really been working together yet, as shortly after he was sent out to his mission on Liyue, which took him a few weeks to finally complete. And since then, he had been locked up here.

Anyway, back to the present. The leader of that small group gave a quick report to Childe, informing him of their accomplishments. The harbinger only nodded, listening to them.

"Alright, sounds good. For now, I want you guys to go to the training grounds. Improve on your strenghts and get rid of your weaknesses. This will be your task for the following week. After that time, you will face me in battle again, to assess your progress.

That would be all.", he said to dismiss them. They all hurriedly made their way out of the room, except for one member of the group. The woman stood still in front of Childe, and it took him a moment to realize that she was still standing there.

"Hmm? Was there something else you needed?"

"Well.. I have a bit of a personal question, if you would allow it, Lord Harbinger.", she answered respectfully, bowing her head at him a bit.

Childe thought it over for a second, but didn't think anything bad of her request, so he allowed her to ask her question.

"Thank you. It's about (name)", she said and the mention of your name both set him on edge and also brought a small smile to his face. You just had that effect on him every time, even after months of dating already.

"What is it that you see in them? Why are you with them? I just don't understand it."

"What about it don't you understand?", Childe asked, bewildered as he sensed the obvious hostility she seemed to harbour when talking about you.

"I mean, they're just so boring and bland. I don't get what you see in them. Surely they can't be enough to satisfy you. You could have anyone else, you have so many better options. Why them?"

After her little rant was over, Childe stood up from his place behind his desk, walked around in front of it, and leaned against the table, crossing his arms in front of him.

"And let me guess.. you think you would be better suited for me than them, am I right?"

She nodded as she took a step forward, towards him, but one ice cold glare from Childe let her freeze in place. But she got her composure back quickly, returning his gaze.

"I do.", she stated, holding her chin up high, trying to look more confident than she currently felt.

Childe continued to look at her a few more seconds, before averting his eyes and sighing in disappointment.

"I think I've heard enough. Just so you know, you could never be enough for me. (Name) is more than enough, they are the perfect match for me. And I'm most definitely not about to give up on that for some random chick that decides to throw herself at me.

Anything you want to add, (name)?"

The last sentence was said a bit louder by Childe, knowing that you had been standing outside the door and listening in on the conversation. Upon mentioning you, you entered the room and by the surprised look on the womans face, she didn't realize that you were actually present.

"Not really, I think you already made yourself perfectly clear.", you said, your look at her as cold as Childe's was.

"We're over. Can't believe I ever was friends with someone like you.", was the only thing you felt like adding to the situation, before the woman ran out of the room without another word, feeling utterly humiliated.

You and Childe both looked after her, before looking at each other. Then you guys burst out into laughter at how ridiculous this entire situation was.

After you had calmed down again, you guys shared the food that you made for him in his office, you sitting on his lap since he wouldn't allow you to sit anywhere else. It was safe to say that Childe acted a bit more clingy with you for the next few days.

Zhongli

It has been quite some time since Zhongli's last relationship and even though he has an understanding of the principles, the more intimate details of it are kind of lost on him

have some patience with him and teach him the ropes of it again and you will be rewarded with one of the most loving and caring partners one could ever wish for

he also tends to be a little bit on the jealous side, but he means no harm in it. He knows you're more than capable of standing up for yourself, but he can't help it. He is your partner after all, it's only natural he wants to protect you

Also a very loyal man. If he chooses a partner, he stays with them through all the good and bad times until the bitter end. Whatever form that end will take..

Zhongli let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with his work for the day. Who knew that the work of a consultant could be this demanding?

Hu Tao had him staying late for the past two weeks, since, as she said, work had been piling up and she needed all the help she could get.

While you were understanding of the situation, not minding him coming home later to help out his boss, Zhongli did mind it very much.

Because now, work kept getting in the way of his quality time with you. While he was stuck here, he could be home with you, snuggling up on the couch, or out on a date with you.

Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since you two last went on one. Perhaps he should take you out to Wanwen Bookhouse again, with a nice dinner afterwards at Liuli Pavilion. That sounded like a good idea.

Still thinking about this, and possible other locations where he could take you to, he continued to tidy up his workplace, so that he could finally leave as soon as he was done with that.

Hu Tao had already left earlier today, claiming she would be gone for some type of commission and left him the keys to lock the place up after he was done for the day.

Once he was done cleaning up, he went outside and locked the door, putting the keys into his pocket to keep them safe. He would return them to Hu Tao again once his well deserved weekend would be over. Oh, how he longed to spend those blessed days enveloped in your arms, hoping you would never let go of him again.

Gazing up at the sky, he noticed that it was still quite early. He still did some overtime, but he did get off earlier today than the days prior. So, Zhongli decided on the spot to surprise you with some of your favourite food.

He went over to Wanmin Restaurant, which coincidentaly was also on the way to your shared house, to pick up something to eat for the both of you.

Upon approaching the vendor, Chef Mao immediatly recogniced the man.

"Ah, Mister Zhongli! Good evening! The usual?", he asked in a cheery tone, to which Zhongli agreed to.

While waiting for his food to be done, he took place on one of the stools outside the building, looking around the streets. It wasn't quite as busy as it was during the day, but there were still fairly many people out and about, doing their business.

"Hey! Zhongli!", a voice greeted behind him, so the man turned around to see a dear friend of yours approaching him and taking place next to him on an empty stool.

Zhongli gave her a gentle smile, not minding her presence at all. Maybe some company would be good for the time he had to keep waiting for the food to be done.

"Good evening. What brings you here on this fine day?", he asks her, trying to engage in some small talk with her.

"Oh, nothing much. I was just out for a walk when I saw you sitting here all alone.", she smiled, leaning a bit closer to him. Zhongli noticed this, but didn't think anything of it, which is also why he didn't say anything about it.

"Ah, yes. I am merely waiting for it to be done cooking, so that I can surprise (name) with it at home. I have been working late for the past two weeks so I hope she will accept this small piece of apology."

Upon mentioning your name, he noticed how her expression turned a bit sour, but it was gone so quickly the next second that he thought he just imagined it.

"Is that so..", she mused, seeming to be lost deep in thought.

After that, the conversation died out and a sort of uncomfortable silence fell between Zhongli and your friend. Not knowing what to best do in this kind of situation, he just remained silent, still patiently waiting.

A few more minutes passed and finally, Chef Mao came to Zhongli again, this time with two containers of food in his hands.

"Here you go. Sorry it took so long, busy day today."

"Not a problem.", Zhongli reassured him as he handed the man his money. He was about to say his goodbyes to your friend, when she suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait!", she said, suddenly having a form of urgency to her voice that made him halt.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I... I want you to break up with (name)!", she exclaimed, shocking Zhongli with her words. Why would he say such a thing.

The confusion obviously written all over his face, the woman sighed as she got even closer to him.

"I am in love with you, Zhongli. And I want to be with you. I don't care if I start out as just a side chick for you, so long as you break up with them and choose me in the long run.

Trust me, you'll see for yourself just how inferior (name) is to me in every aspect of life. Bet they aren't even any good in bed. I know you're not satisfied with them, so why not enjoy yourself with a little fun on the side?"

Zhongli couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew how much you trusted her, so for her to betray that trust you put in her so easily, it made his heart ache for you. But it also made him furious. How dare she talk about you like that in front of him? You were everything to him, and you were definitely more than enough.

Anger slowly krept its way up inside him, being more and more evident in the way his gaze turned cold and his hands tightly gripped the containers he was holding.

But before he could let his anger out on that woman, he heard an all too familiar voice call his name. "Zhongli!"

There you were standind, a few feet away from them and slowly walking over to your boyfriend.

"Hey (name)!", the woman cheerfully said, putting on a seemingly perfect act in front of you, being all nice and friendly again, like she wasn't just trying to steal Zhongli away from you.

"What a surprise to see you here. We were just talking about-!"

"About how you want to be the side piece of my boyfriend? Yeah, I heard that.", you said in a very matter-of-fact way, it caught her completely off guard.

"Huh?", was all she was able to get out, a look of bewilderment present on her face. You, however, have heard enough and you were done with her.

So, you only rolled your eyes at her, before lowering your voice, trying to sound as intimidating as you could. "Listen here, you bitch. He is taken. You had all the time and chances before I met him, and now, he is mine.

So back the fuck off before I go off on your fake ass face."

Panic now written all over her face, she took a few steps back. "You wouldn't.. You're crazy!"

"Oh, but I would.", you growled, taking a step forward, which finally caused her to turn around and run away from the two of you.

Relieved, you let out a sigh and turned around to your boyfriend, who had witnessed the entire scene.

"Sorry you had to deal with that.", you apologized sheepishly, gaze now turned to the ground.

"Don't apologize, my dear. After all, I should be the one apologizing to you, since you just lost a friend because of me. But, I do want to say, I hope you know that I would never choose someone else over you."

"I know that.", you nodded as you looked up at him, offering him a warm and loving smile. Ahh, how he had missed that smile the entire day. He just had to lean down and give you a soft kiss, which you very gladly reciprocated.

[am-i-interrupting]

Hi, I was just wondering if you could do fem!reader x Vox, Alastor, Lucyfer (separately) when reader cooks/bakes something for them (since I'm in culinary school). I want so bad to see their reactions on their meal. It can be something sweet or salty - your choice :)

I really like your work, you just do it so well♡

Thank you in advace.

If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for.

Alastor

Alastor considers himself a rather good cook. He also has very specific tastes.

It takes a lot to impress him but it is manageable.

He’s never downright mean unless it’s downright awful (like you burnt milk somehow)

However, he is somewhat firm in his opinions.

He gives critiques when you make anything that’s not specifically creole which normally boils down to “not bloody enough” or “measure spice with your heart, not a recipe.”

If you do make him things that originate from creole culture, he is in the kitchen with you.

He’s looking over your shoulder, never saying anything but making small noises of impressed or disapproval.

Those are the dishes where his critique is actually helpful.

The day he actually closes his eyes with a sigh is the day you know you’ve done something right.

Lucifer

Lucifer dabbles in cooking just a bit. Not a lot. He can cook simple things but he can cook.

He will be easily impressed.

You made homemade brownies? You’re so amazing and great and talented!

You made rolls? On everything unholy, you are the most impressive thing on earth. (Hit me up if you want a copycat Texas Roadhouse roll recipe. I’ve been hit up for it.)

He is just constantly impressed and constantly singing your praises.

He would go to Bee and ask her if she would add any restaurants you may want to have to her BeeEats app options.

Of course Bee says yes.

You get all the funding you want if owning a restaurant or bakery is on your wish list.

You will soon be known as the best chef in Hell.

Vox

Vox’s good palette is very bland.

Yes, he can enjoy some Italian food or French food or fast food or really just white food.

This man can’t handle anything spicy.

He can’t.

At all.

Don’t make him spicy food. He will think he’s dying a second time.

He does know how to cook though. Knows more than Lucifer but less than Alastor.

Because of that, he’s not going to be giving you pointers on how to better cook but he will watch.

He likes to watch you cook. It’s soothing.

If you’re open to it, he might even get you a cooking show spot or at the very least a guest star spot.

He’s impressed by your cooking, certainly but he will try to act like he’s just mildly impressed when in fact he’s more impressed than that.

“Mmm, that’s good, doll.” Meanwhile he’s just vibrating on the inside.

If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.

[captainzigo]

Hi everypony!

My kofi is ko-fi.com/captainzigo if you enjoy my art, consider leaving me a tip! this is otherwise entirely a labor of love so,,,

you can also send a request with your tip! but if you choose to do so, please read the disclaimer later on in this post**

my non-art blog, where i accept asks is @snapewife-divorce-lawyer and my reblog-spam blog is @3amgaypotion also i am on bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/captainzigo.bsky.social

that's a bunch of pictures of my oc(/ponysona) Prickly Pear. she's a cowgirl

Frequent/noteworthy questions below the break

**on donations made to me:

i still dont take commissions currently, but if you send a request with a donation, there's a 99% chance i'll do it. and that remaining 1% i'll probably just ask you for a different request. if you send me a request with a donation you are not sending me a commision. you are making a donation, and i might do you a favor as a result. you do not own the resulting art. and I am under no obligation to complete it or to do it in the way that you like. you do not need to make a donation in order to make a request. i talk more about it here

hello mutuals!

If you are a mutual, DM me for an invite to discord server and subsequently to minecraft server

on sending me asks:

any asks you send me should be like Strongbad emails. one paragraph. no attachments. unless you are sending me refs.

in any interactions, please keep in mind that i am a stranger on the internet and act accordingly.

unless I have explicitly said otherwise, you can safely assume that I do not count you amongst my friends. it is nothing personal, it is in fact the opposite.

why am i like this?

i am autistic. i say this because representation matters, but also because i would like to ask that you please be very frank with me. i don't even really need your patience. just say what you mean and we will get along fine.

can you draw my ocs?

you most certainly can draw any of my ocs. i'd love that acually. tag me

on (re)posting my art:

do not post my art on other platforms. do not repost my art period. I don't really exist on other platforms since i deleted Twitter. So if you see my stuff on other platforms, it's not me. except for my bluesky.

transformative works are obviously allowed, at least here in USamerica where i live. but if you want my blessing, please keep them SFW, and try to keep the spirit of the original artwork

is my blog SFW?

im in my twenties. i keep my blog SFW (as i define it) as a strict rule.

i do not consider the fact that sex exists, that some people enjoy it, or some innuendo to be NSFW. i also do not consider swearing, even as tho a sailor might, to be NSFW.

are NSFW interactions ok?

in short: no. while i have no aversion to to that sort of thing, and often actually enjoy it, i keep this blog SFW. the intention behind my art is to be SFW even when it might be skirting the line. in general, and especially, specifically with mlp, i do not wish to have NSFW interactions on the internet. please respect this boundary.

on shipping:

in my opinion, all romance real or fictional should be between people who are similar in age, doing age appropriate things, not closely related, and all with mutual consent. i am not interested in witnessing or interacting with anything outside of these parameters.

on my blue hair and pronouns:

i am a trans woman. i am also bisexual. i am also poly and demi since im listing things. i am out online becasue i know how important it is to know that you aren't alone.

do i take constructive criticism?

NO 🖕👹🖕 FUCK YOU!!!!!!! GET BLOCKED IDIOT!! unless you are a marginalized person who feels i have unintentionally made you uncomfortable somehow with my art or otherwise. in that case i am sorry and you do me a great favor by calling me out. OTHERWISE FUCK YOU DUMBASS IF YOU DONT LIKE MY ART GO DRAW YOUR OWN 🖕🖕🖕🖕

“i hate bronies”…

i don't necessarily hate you if you self identify with that label. i like to make myself off-putting to keep creeps away. i talk about it more in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/captainzigo/744131513208176640/when-i-say-i-hate-bronies-in-my-header-its

brony?

i don't hold a lot of nostalgia for old brony stuff. infact it's quite the opposite. i was a child when the show came out, and more than that i was a girl. i am not a brony.

do i like g5?

i like all generations of mip including the new stuff. gen 4 is just the one i grew up with

why is my header aurora, bori and alice from the best gift ever?

well that would be because i hate them like a mother hates a child. like the sun hates the moon. like sickly victorian child hates the slightest morsel of bread.

on flurryheart:

i often draw stuff about cozy glow x flurry heart. this is with the understanding that cozy glow spends about a decade turned to stone. nullifying the age gap.

🤓☝️ i think you mean effect, not affect

i am dyslexic. i spell stuff wrong all the time and i type weird. please don't bother correcting me. wooptydoo your brain is wired normally. sending you a medal.

on my username:

i've had the same username since i debuted on the internet. zigo is the name of an oc i made that i dont really talk much about anymore. zigo is a fine enough nickname, and at least one person calls me that irl.

[akutasoda]

Hi, I saw that your requests were open, so I would like to request Jiaoqiu and Luocha with Teru Minamoto reader :3

exorcism ailments

synopsis - how are they with someone like teru minamoto

includes - luocha, jiaoqiu

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, maybe ooc, wc - 500

a/n: hi! :3

luocha ★↷

↪first encountered you when he was visiting the luofu and learnt about the heliobi. he was quite intrigued to learn more about them and so he went searching for heliobi, and he knew that they could be dangerous so he sought help.

↪luocha managed to convince you to aid his search to cure his interest - you were a ten-lords commission judge-in-training and he convinced you that it would help your training by learning more about the heliobus, as well as you having a great understanding of them already.

↪he appreciated the fact that you were calm and collected, he found it much easier to work with you. he also just generally found you to be a very likeable person which certainly made searching for heliobi more enjoyable.

↪your ideas certainly piqued his interest more so than the actual heliobi, seeing them all as 'evil beings' that should be and deserved to be exorcised. sure other members of the ten lords probably had similar ideas but yours seemed much more set.

↪despite you originally seeming reliable and calm, he noticed how much more sadistic and harsh you turned when actually dealing with heliobi. this certainly made you all the more interesting to him.

↪your skills were definitely commendable for a judge-in-training, he definitely thought you would earn a title as a judge in no time.

jiaoqiu ★↷

↪he first met you when he visited the xianzhou luofu as his presence was needed - there seemed to be a particularly bad heliobi issue on the luofu to which casualties where high.

↪jiaoqiu had been requested to assist you in clearing out an area with high activity. you were to exorcise the remaining heliobi and he was meant to be there to help with any casualties along the way.

↪he could see why you were paired with him, you certainly upheld your reliable and calm reputation that made you extremely well-liked among the ten-lords. he also found great enjoyment in testing your perceptiveness.

↪you were also extremely effective at your job which jiaoqiu oreffered as it meant he could get back to the xinazhou yaoqing quicker. you could sibgle handedly exorcise any heliobi while he had to barely lift a finger unless there was someone seeking medical attention.

↪he didn't care for the heliobi, he only really found them tedious after awhile so he did agree with you that all heliobi should be exorcised.

↪ although, he thoroughly enjoyed that you so easily turned rather sadistic and cruel when actually facing heliobi, in a way it reminded him of himself. he definitely would invite you over to the yaoqing some other time.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[thehypnone]

Have I used this joke already? Yes. Will I use it again? Absolutely.

KKEENNDDRICK!!! DROP ANOTHER DISTRACK (GHOUL ORGY) AND MY LIFE, IS YOURSSS /ref /pos

Oh please great father I BEG OF THEE

Not Alive For Anyone

WC: 3,1k

Relationship: Dewdrop/Mountain/Swiss/Phantom

Tags: Foursome - M/M/M/M, Transmasc Dew, Free Use (kinda), Cunnilingus, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Objectification, Anal Sex, Vaginal Sex, Pressure Kink (is that a thing?), Edging, Degradation, Creampie, Aftercare

Notes: Combining with a commission from @jazz-bazz :3 Beta read and edited by the lovely @mac-and-thefox <3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

The rehearsal today was particularly hot.

The air conditioning went out and Copia ordered some people around so it would get fixed and they did, but it died again just as the band started playing the first song, to their collective annoyance. Papa was obviously frustrated, too, but decided to use this as an opportunity for them all to build up some heat resistance—as if they hadn't already played countless shows in horrid heat fully costumed.

This led to everyone being as snappy as they were horny, due to them sweating bullets and scenting the windowless room with it.

Dewdrop, though, had no issues whatsoever.

He does sweat, yes, but his fire nature makes the heat itself not much of a bother and still, the rehearsal was nothing compared to some shows they had played. So while everyone just wanted to get it over with and go shower and fuck, Dewdrop was having actual fun, as usual during a practice.

He doesn’t really understand why he got jumped by three of his packmates the moment he put his guitar away. He’s hardly ever going to say no to a casual orgy, though, so he didn’t protest being picked up and thrown over Mountain’s shoulder. There were fingers in his cunt and asshole before they even reached Swiss’ room. There he got thrown onto the bed and stripped with no regards to what he wanted or didn’t want.

He thinks he should be grateful that they decided to finger him open—just enough so he doesn't bleed when they spear him on two fat cocks. He’s on his hands and knees with his throat filled by Mountain’s cock as the earth ghoul licks into his cunt to loosen him up while Swiss is behind him, stretching his ass with near clinical precision; poking and prodding as if he’s nothing more than a doll to be inspected prior to using.

Oh, how Dewdrop loves being used.

“So cute,” Swiss hums, adding another finger to the two already nestled inside the fire ghoul’s warm hole. Obscene noise reaches his ears as the multi ghoul thrusts the digits in; Dewdrop has been leaking everywhere since Mountain has picked him up.

He has nearly forgotten about the fourth ghoul that’s in the room with them. Phantom is kneeling by Dewdrop’s head with a tight fist around his cock, slowly stroking himself to the sight of the fire ghoul choking on Mountain’s cock.

The earth ghoul wants to cum first before they really start so that he might have a chance of lasting for long enough. He never can on his first. Shooting down Dewdrop’s throat is a great way to start, indeed, and the fire ghoul’s enthusiasm when it comes to sucking dick is unmatched; Swiss knows he doesn’t have that much time to work him open because of that.

Sure enough, the multi ghoul pushes four fingers into him just when Mountain lets out a nearly guttural groan as Dewdrop makes him cum. Phantom keeps watching; he even dares to reach out, wipe a drop of cum that leaks out of the fire ghoul’s mouth with a finger and bring it down onto his own tongue.

Mountain stays on his back and once he gets the go-ahead, Swiss wastes no more time before grabbing the fire ghoul and sitting him on the other’s cock, hard again. Dewdrop doesn’t even have the time to register the fullness as he is being pushed down—back to Mountain’s chest—and then Swiss is moving Phantom to his liking, too. Suddenly he is sliding the young ghoul’s dick into Dewdrop’s cunt and bending the young quint over him so Swiss can prepare him for his own cock.

Phantom moans and drools onto the fire ghoul’s chest as it is his turn to get stretched out and treated like an object. His hips keep giving light twitches seeking friction instead of just sitting idly in the glorious place that is Dewdrop’s pussy, but Swiss allows no such thing. He holds him still with his free hand and threatens with his claws every time the quintessence ghoul tries to hump into Dewdrop.

“You’re gonna move how I want you to and that’s it, Phantom.” Swiss’ tone alone makes Phantom shudder and whine; it’s cold, the warmth and affection that’s usually dripping from every word Swiss utters is absolutely gone. The quintessence ghoul thinks he shouldn’t be as turned on by it as he is, but alas.

“Swiss–”

“No, shut up,” he snarls and Phantom moans in reply. Swiss chuckles cruelly at how much of a mess he is as he finishes stretching his ass. He smacks his cheek just hard enough to leave a mark before wiping his hand and shoving his cock into him in one swift thrust with no more preamble. Phantom whimpers at the sudden fullness and his own dick kicks where it’s still nestled in Dewdrop.

The fire ghoul himself is way past incoherent at this point, stuffed full and squeezed, and nobody has really moved properly yet. He doesn’t even pay much mind to how he thought it would be Swiss and Mountain fucking him; not that he doesn’t enjoy having sweet little Phantom in his pussy.

He really fucking does.

So if someone were to ask him how exactly he ended up in his current predicament, he would not really know how to answer. Don’t get him wrong, he is enjoying himself immensely, but at this point the others have him so brainless he genuinely can’t remember what led him to…all of this.

“How does his cock feel, huh?” Swiss asks, probably referring to Phantom. He can’t be sure considering Mountain is also buried inside him to the hilt, of course. Either way, they both feel divine. “Hm, kitten?”

“‘S good,” Dewdrop slurs, high on sensation already, and the multi ghoul grins as he thrusts roughly into Phantom where he’s glued to his back. That makes his own dick slam deep into Dewdrop’s cunt, filling him to the brim with the help of the big earth ghoul cock in his ass. “So good, fuck.”

Their position is rather complicated, but they are making it work.

Swiss grunts into Phantom’s ear with every thrust, sheathing himself inside him over and over again and making him do the same to the fire ghoul. The room is filled with filthy sounds of slick flesh against slick flesh and various noises of pleasure falling one by one from four mouths.

Dewdrop is the most lost one, of course.

He’s not really registering what’s happening anymore, he just knows he’s warm, full, and nicely squeezed; the waves of pleasure that are washing over him every second have him out somewhere by the orbit. His eyes are glassy with it and unshed—for now—tears and his pupils are blown so wide the embers of his irises are nearly gone.

Swiss regrets he’s too far to really look into these pretty eyes and see how empty Dewdrop’s brain is.

Mountain isn’t doing much at the bottom of their sweaty fuck-pile; he is holding both of Dewdrop’s wrists in the circle of one of his hands and toying with the fire ghoul’s clit with the other—not with the intention to help properly stimulate him, no. Mountain is doing it for himself, all but fidgeting with the little thing as Dewdrop’s wet hole squeezes his cock over and over again. The earth ghoul is simply content with being cockwarmed and occasionally clenched around if he flicks the fire ghoul’s cock in the right way or if Swiss makes Phantom hit that good spot inside him.

He nuzzles his nose against his shoulder and neck, licking over the scars that are left of Dewdrop’s gills and enjoying the smell he loves so much—of a bonfire that has just been put out with fresh water—being so strong right there. He thinks about what he would do if the gills were still there, how he’d lick inside and suck on the pretty fins surrounding them. Alas, he only worries the delicate skin of the crook of Dewdrop’s neck between his fangs and resists the urge to pierce it just yet; there will be time for that later. 

“Mounty–” Dewdrop moans; being beyond any words but their names. The earth ghoul in question presses a fang to a bumpy scar and chuffs in acknowledgement of whatever it might be that Dewdrop was trying to say. Not that it matters much, anyway.

Phantom is nothing more than a two-in-one dildo and a fleshlight as Swiss controls his every movement with a big, warm hand sprawled out over his chest—the other one dimpling the skin on his hip in a possessive grip. It’s Dewdrop that is completely immobilized and reduced to a whiny mess, even though the quintessence ghoul has no control over himself either. He loves it; he’s not even addressed as much as Dewdrop. Swiss is nothing but vicious and the only comfort Mountain has to offer—at least for the time being—is the fire ghoul’s to take.

They should have invited Rain, Swiss thinks. As far as he’s aware the water ghoul got snatched by the ghoulettes after the rehearsal, but Swiss can’t help but wonder how much more wrecked Dewdrop would get if Rain were with them. The power he has over the fire ghoul is something as impressive as it is scary.

They will definitely invite Rain next time.

Phantom’s moans are the loudest and the highest and Swiss absolutely cherishes them. He prides himself in being able to pull all those lovely sounds out of the young ghoul and he knows them so well by now he could categorize them precisely. That’s why he knows exactly when to shove his cock into him harder, when to do it faster, and when to pull out completely just to hear Phantom cry out for it, hating the sudden feeling of cold and empty.

But then Swiss slides back in and all is right in the world again.

Yes, all four of them are enjoying themselves immensely.

Dewdrop tries to arch his back against the onslaught of sensation but Phantom’s hands that are planted firmly on his chest and his—or rather Swiss’—rhythmic thrusts effectively keep him from it. The fire ghoul is literally stuck and he drops his mouth open in a wanton moan at the realization of just how helpless he is right now.

Phantom lets out a similar noise when Dewdrop squeezes around him and Swiss chuckles cruelly behind him. “Two little whores made for being used, how pathetic. Isn’t it, my love?”

Dewdrop’s entire body vibrates with the rumble that comes from Mountain’s chest. “I think it’s rather adorable. It’s like they were made just for us to use.”

He squeezes around the fire ghoul’s slim wrists for good measure; as if to show off just how perfect of a fit they are. Swiss chuckles and nods in agreement.

Dewdrop whines loudly and wiggles his fingers in an attempt to…they’re not sure, really, but the next sound that comes out of him is too close to a sob for Mountain’s liking. “P–please…”

The earth ghoul hums and both lets go of his wrists and pauses toying with his clit. He drags his big hands over Dewdrop’s small body, tweaking his nipples on his way, before he wraps them tightly around him. He squeezes the remaining breath out of him and drills his cock into his hole as the fire ghoul clenches around it at receiving even more of that grounding pressure he craves so much. He flops his half-limp hands back down and grips Phantom’s wrist with one and Mountain’s forearm with the other in a silent plea of keep me close.

Even though they were all happy to reduce him to nothing but a few holes for them to fuck for the time being, he is still their beloved Dewdrop.

“It’s alright, fire lily,” Mountain rumbles into his ear, “I’ve got you, make us feel good some more and it’ll be your turn, I promise.”

Seeing Mountain take on the task of assuring the fire ghoul’s comfort, Swiss smirks; intending to take his cruelty up a notch before they finish.

“Useless without us, both of you,” he spits out with another forceful thrust into Phantom. “Fucking each other and being fucked by us is the only thing you’re good for.”

The quintessence ghoul moans all whorish at his words; a slut for cruel degradation that he is. He pants hard with his head hung and his eyes glued to where Dewdrop’s cunt is being stretched open on his cock, leaking more and more slick with every thrust. It’s an addicting sight and feeling, truly, and Phantom feels a dangerous swoop low in his stomach.

“Swiss–Swiss, I’m…I’m close, ‘m gonna–” he whines as his body moves of its own accord to search for something that will bring him to his orgasm. Swiss, though, doesn’t let it get too far.

“No, you’re not,” he snarls, “not until I tell you.”

Phantom whimpers but there’s nothing he can do about it, really, and everyone involved knows he loves it.

“How’s it going down there, my love?” the multi ghoul asks Mountain. “As hot as up here?”

“Hotter,” he admits, making Swiss chuckle. “I’m close, too, darling.”

“Alright then.”

Swiss groans as he picks up his pace and slams into Phantom with enough force to make the entire bed rattle against the wall.

“You can cum,” he whispers into the quintessence ghoul’s ear and cums deep inside him, grunting. The feeling of the multi ghoul’s cock slotted right against his prostate and the warmth filling him makes Phantom grind into Dewdrop for the last time before he tips over the edge, too.

Dewdrop cries out as he takes his second load of the night. Mountain presses down on his stomach and lets out a growl as he feels Phantom’s softening cock and his own through Dewdrop’s flat tummy. The earth ghoul bucks up into him and finally allows himself to sink his teeth into his shoulder and then he’s gone, too, spilling into Dewdrop’s ass.

Phantom goes completely boneless once he goes down from his high, flopping down onto a very fucked out but still very desperate Dewdrop. He would cry and beg for them to make him cum if only he weren’t squeezed so hard there’s no breath left in his lungs. Swiss somehow holds himself up behind Phantom, pulling out as he breathes heavily and folding in on himself where he kneels.

He knows he’s the one who will regain his composure the fastest and that means he has to switch his semi-cruelty off and give Dewdrop his release; preferably before the poor ghoul drops and descends into real panic.

It’s easy for him to roll Phantom off of him, the bed is big enough so that he can pick Dewdrop up and lay him down next to the quintessence ghoul with Mountain still taking up the middle. The fire ghoul cries out in desperation as he gets manhandled and spread out on his back for Swiss to do whatever he wants to him. 

“S–Swiss, pl…please, I–I can’t, I need–please,” Dewdrop babbles, flopping his arms around as if he’s trying to claw his way to getting his release.

But he is completely at Swiss’ mercy; he couldn’t fight him even if he wanted to.

Maybe he does, a little bit—too brainless to realize how much gentler Swiss is now and that whatever he’s going to do is finally going to be for Dewdrop, not someone else.

The multi ghoul lays on his front in between his legs and cannot waste any more time—not only because of his affection for Dewdrop, but also the delicious display of the fire ghoul’s holes all puffy and leaking his packmates’ cum right in front of his face.

Dewdrop must be cleaned up, of course, so why wouldn’t Swiss do it with his tongue?

He descends and plunges the appendage deep into the fire ghoul’s cunt and he absolutely wails; loud enough to wake the dead, probably. Without ghouls bigger than him on and under him, Dewdrop writhes in oversensitivity. Swiss only holds his hips, keeping at least that part of him still enough so that he can enjoy his dessert.

Neither of them notices Mountain gathering Phantom up and off of the bed and taking him to the bathroom to clean him up. They’ll be done before they come back, surely, just in time for a post-coital cuddle pile.

It’s obscene how the multi ghoul eats Dewdrop out, alternating between sucking on his cock, licking Phantom’s cum out of his cunt and doing the same to Mountain’s in his ass. It’s all sloppy and Swiss is all but drowning, but he doesn't ever want to stop.

He will, though; causing the fire ghoul actual anguish is not the plan. Swiss lets go of his hips with one hand and brings it down between his legs. He pushes two of his fingers into Dewdrop’s asshole, his thumb into his pussy, and closes his mouth around his clit.

He sucks and the fire ghoul is gone.

His holes squeeze around Swiss’ fingers and his thighs around his head as slick gushes out of him and absolutely drenches the other’s face and neck. He pulls away immediately, knowing that after being edged for so long, Dewdrop would fall into overstimulation that much faster and that much more intense than usual.

Swiss rests his cheek on the inside of the fire ghoul’s thigh and breathes in the smell of sex hanging in the air; so beautifully concentrated just between Dewdrop’s legs. He’s gasping for breath, laying sprawled out like a wet noodle with no strength to move even an inch. Swiss rubs his warm hands over his skin, wherever he can reach, to ground him and help him come back down smoothly.

Swiss’ eyes close at some point, but he can’t bring himself to care; he’s comfortable snuggled between Dewdrop’s legs. The next thing he knows a blanket is being thrown over him—still there—and there’s another warm body cuddling up to him and the fire ghoul. Phantom shoves his face into Dewdrop’s tummy and wraps his tail around Swiss’ waist. Mountain joins them a moment later, laying down in the other direction and manhandling Dewdrop so that his head is pillowed on his stomach. 

Their position is rather complicated, but they’re making it work.

[prettyrealm]

how do the ive members see wonyoung?

this reading is a paid commision, thank you so much for trusting in me! <3 celebrity commissions • personal commissions

an yujin - she thinks wonyoung is extremely professional and a great idol, she admires that she will try in all aspects of the job (she’s always on “idol-mode”) but she thinks that wonyoung wants to be the it girl, is proud of it, and doesn’t plan on giving that spot up. wonyoung is on yujin’s mind all the time because of this, and I think the reason she sees so many good qualities in wonyoung is because she wants to be more like her. she definitely feels as if she lives in wonyoung’s shadow. she thinks wonyoung is highly attractive.

gaeul - she doesn’t really view wonyoung as a real person. she thinks she’s very distant and that she doesn’t really hang out with the ive members unless she has to (so maybe she’s the first to leave dance practices, or skips out on hanging out with members after work). she thinks wonyoung is really good at being on idol-mode as well. she sees it as not who she really is, not that she thinks she’s a snake or something either, rather it’s more like “no one could really be this way”,’ it’s like she feels she doesn’t and will never know the real wonyoung (as wonyoung doesn’t really open up even behind the scenes). a part of her is even curious to see if wonyoung will ever “break character” one day. she thinks wonyoung is very beautiful.

rei - she thinks wonyoung super attractive, she is actually attracted TO wonyoung (didn’t ask if she acted on it or plans to btw, this is just how she feels). she thinks wonyoung is elite at her job, very beautiful and able to pull everything off, it’s likely that she thinks wonyoung is the best idol in the group. she thinks wonyoung is the ultimate woman. she thinks wonyoung’s kindness is real, she thinks you wouldn’t be able to maintain that type of personality/aura for so long if it wasn’t genuine (she seems to also have the tendency of glossing over possible negative traits or behaviors to interpret them as more positive). she thinks she rarely has a bad day with wonyoung and she can even get butterflies when they’re together. she has a lot of trust in wonyoung and likes her to the point where if wonyoung was ever super mean to her (or betrayed her in some way) she would actually feel heartbroken. she often feels sorry for wonyoung and wishes she could make things easier for her, she sees wonyoung as someone who often has hard times.

liz - she thinks wonyoung is very professional - again, a really good idol. she sees her as a perfectionist and that she’s confident but not arrogant (humble enough that she’s always trying to improve herself and isn’t the type to think she knows everything). she thinks wonyoung’s constant striving for perfection has very harmful consequences though (physically and mentally). she thinks wonyoung is distant and on idol-mode 99.9% of the time so what she sees often isn’t the real wonyoung, but she assumes this is just her being professional rather than fake. she genuinely likes wonyoung and would love to be closer to her and hang out with her more because she thinks she could be a good friend to her, but wonyoung is too distant and simply won’t let that happen.

leeseo - she wants to be wonyoung, there’s a chance that she was even wonyoung’s fan before meeting her. she tries to copy everything wonyoung does, even with how wonyoung acts behind the scenes, she finds herself wanting to be like that (whether she can pull it off or not). this makes her jealous though, she finds herself jealous of how willing people are to help wonyoung because of how loved she is. she understands wonyoung is on “idol-mode” often and this makes her more jealous because she’s like, “yeah i want to be like this too, but I can’t believe everyone is so nice to you when you aren’t even being real!”. i think a part of her even hopes for wonyoung to “crack” and for people to realize she’s not perfect, but overall she basically sees wonyoung as the luckiest girl in the world. she does think wonyoung has a lot of pressure on her though.

[sineala]

Are there ANY stony/Star Trek AUs?

Okay. Um. I'm just going to assume this is a legitimate question and not actually a way to express frustration about my progress on the sequel I am writing (I stared at this ask for a while), so I will just conclude that you must have missed the Steve/Tony Star Trek AU I wrote, um, back in 2016:

Straight on till Morning (109848 words) by Sineala Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit  Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply  Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Carol Danvers, Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Clint Barton, Donald Blake (Marvel), Jocasta (Marvel)  Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Action/Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pining, Angst, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Caves, Sex In A Cave, Technobabble, Happy Ending, Cap_Ironman Big Bang 2016, Community: cap_ironman, Podfic Available  Summary: 

Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive. 

But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.

So, yeah, if you actually haven't read that one, that'll keep you busy for a while. It's a Trek fusion with comics Steve/Tony, set in the era of the later TOS movies. (This is important so that you can picture the correct uniforms, and also because it actually matters that the events of Star Trek II, III, and IV have happened.) It was a Big Bang fic, so it's got some great art by Ran and Phoenix -- embedded in the story -- and also M_Samro made a really amazing podfic of it, if you like podfics.

For a charity auction in 2017, I promised I would write a sequel, and I plotted the whole thing out and started writing this extremely epic sequel, which was unfortunately, about a plague threatening the galaxy, and I got about 120,000 words in and then 2020 happened and I decided I needed to not be writing it right now. So it went on an extended hiatus.

But the good news is that I've actually gotten back to it! I picked it up again last month and I've put 40,000 more words in it since then and at this exact moment I am currently working on the last scene of Chapter 4 (out of six total)! I swear it is happening! I've been putting in about a thousand words a day for the past month! It is really happening this time! The sequel is coming! I promise! I know it has been years but it's happening!

See? It's happening! (I would include a screencap of the part that is happening, but all of Chapter 4 is pretty spoilery.)

So that will exist! Someday! I mean that!

And if you're asking about Steve/Tony Star Trek AUs by people other than me, there are some! If you filter the AU - Star Trek Fusion tag by Steve/Tony, there are 25 matches. Several of them are related to my fic (remixes, art) but there is some stuff that isn't my fault! I haven't read a lot of them because I was trying not to read things that seemed like they might be similar to mine while I was plotting my series here, and also I have never finished watching DS9, so I skipped the DS9 ones.

Under Stars by vulcanscully: A fun fusion that I thought was interesting because Steve is an ensign and that's not how this usually goes.

Discovery of the Century by DepressingGreenie: More 616 in flavor than a lot of the Trek AUs, this is basically Finding Steve In The Ice but Make It Star Trek. As far as I am concerned, Finding Steve In The Ice is great every time.

and so we rebuild by raeldaza: I'm probably biased because this one was inspired by my fic, but I also really enjoyed this one for not being how these things usually go. A lot of Trek AUs in many fandoms are written through a TOS/AOS kind of lens and will often do a Kirk/Spock thing and make one of them a Vulcan or half-Vulcan. In this one that's Tony, but also he's a terrible Vulcan! He's found a new way to disappoint his father!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB: I honestly had never imagined a Star Trek fusion that was also A/B/O but I think it really works here! It's like bringing pon farr full circle.

Xenophilia by Captain_Panda: Captain_Panda has several Trek AUs but I am reccing this one because it's the longest. And also the whumpiest. Everyone loves some good away-mission whump!

So there you go! Live long and prosper! I promise I am still writing this Star Trek AU sequel!