#still debating on his mask but its fitting

[luminni]

Simon has a favorite jumper. It's simple, black wool, fits him well, and he wears it all the time. Only problem is, he wears the thing all the time. He's had the thing for years and it's practically all he wears when he's on leave. By this point, the poor thing is threadbare, little holes around the armpits, the neckline, and the cuffs. It's pilling everywhere and it's covered with dog hair (from where, he has no clue).

You loved the jumper on him, he looked fantastic in it, but even you could see the thing was in a dire situation.

"Simon?" You questioned, holding up the jumper in your arms, folding it after its last round in the wash (which it mercifully survived).

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever...thought about getting this thing dry cleaners?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Don't trust 'em, they'll ruin it."

It was a simple answer, one that told you the subject wasn't up for debate. But just because he didn't trust the dry cleaners with his jumper didn't mean he wouldn't trust anyone with it. And there was no one he trusted more than you.

...

Simon came home from his last deployment late into the night, trudging through the front door and setting his bag down as gently as possible as to not wake you. Toeing his shoes off and finally being able to tug off his mask, he couldn't wait to get out of the rest of his gear.

Stepping lightly through the house, dodging the floor boards he knew were going to be squeaky on his journey to the bedroom. Ready to join you in bed the moment he got into a pair of sweat pants.

When he opened the bedroom door however, he did not find you tucked away in the covers. You were crouched on the floor, humming along to quiet music playing on a small speaker. And you were bowed over that black jumper of his.

"Love?"

"Oh! Simon you're home!" You squealed, jumping up and throwing yourself into his arms, snuggling your face into his chest and drinking in the scent you had been without for so long like you could get drunk off it, and in many ways you could.

"Hey there sweet'art" he cooed, practically purring it into your ear and enclosing you in a big bear hug. "What'er ya' up to?"

"Oh just..." you turned back around, anxiety lacing your voice, "doing a little repair work." You handed him his black jumper, folding it into his hands.

He could believe his eyes, it was smooth like it was new, no pills of fabric clinging to it. The tiny, threadbare areas and holes were patched up. Now, perfectly matched black wool was weaved in to fix it. He stared at you, wide eyed, in disbelief while you just grinned nervously. He brought it up to his face, no dog hair to be seen and it smelt like you had just picked it up off the shelves.

He kept on staring at you "how..?"

"I just," you turned back around, grabbing the sweater trimmer, the replacement wool, the sweater scent spray, and the lint roller, all in your hands. "Used a couple things" You grinned

Simon could have sworn he never felt this way before. There was this weird tightness in his chest, it felt like it was going to explode. He had owned that sweater when he Tommy was still alive, that sweater had seen the first pub crawl with the 141 boys, he wore it on your first date. The sweater was more than just something he wore often, it was his good memories wrapped up into one piece of soft and comfortable wool. His arms moved before he could stop them and he buried you in another hug, squeezing you (and his jumper) into him.

"Oh- Simon!" You giggled, dropping your supplies.

He buried his nose into you shoulder, lifting you up into him, off your feet.

"Thank you," he murmured, voice cracking a bit, "thank you."

[monstarparker]

He’s very clean, but here’s a ref for Truffula Flu Hustle 🤲

[all-inmoderation]

rewatching the fourth episode "Happy Progress Day" and realizing that it was Ekko under that Firelight owl mask is just,,, holy shit.

Ekko was the one who screamed "No!" when Jinx shot that pink-haired girl she mistook for Vi.

Did that pink-haired girl remind Ekko of Vi, too? Maybe that's why he liked her. Vi was dead and gone, but here's this girl with the same rosy-hued hair, the same heart and grit as Vi, willing to fight alongside him against Silco and Jinx for taking away his family. For taking Vi away. For taking Powder away.

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; you infiltrate makarov's lair. pain ignites fury, and you deliver a scalding promise—one he won’t forget.

⚠️ warnings; graphic depictions of violence and blood

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

The mirror reflected a calm exterior, but beneath the surface, your heart raced with anticipation. You adjusted the sleek black dress one last time, the fabric hugging your form like a second skin. The look was sharp and perfect for the night ahead.

You sat at the small vanity, a small bottle of nail polish rested beside you, its deep, glossy shade matching the intensity of your outfit. You steadied your hand, brushing the polish onto your nails with deliberate focus, each stroke precise and smooth.

When you finished, you blew softly on your nails, letting the sheen catch the light for a moment before setting the brush down, briefly looking around the room as you waited for the polish to dry off for completely.

Everywhere around you was a testament to the work you and König had put into the plan. A table nearby was cluttered with equipment—various concoctions, spare ammunition, and a few items for contingencies you hoped you wouldn’t need. Among the chaos, a detailed map of the club lay spread out, corners weighed down with stray tools. 

Behind you, König appeared before dropping into one knee. “Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he carefully slid the strap of your heel over your foot.

His hands, so large they practically enveloped the delicate shoe, moved with surprising gentleness. The buckle clicked into place, and he adjusted the strap to sit just right before reaching for the other.

“König,” you said softly, watching him through the mirror.

He glanced up briefly, his pale eyes meeting yours through his mask, and then returned to his task. “I still don’t like this,” he muttered.

“You’ve made that clear,” you replied with a faint smile, resting a hand on his shoulder for balance as he fastened the second shoe.

When he was done, he stood, towering over you. His brows furrowed even further as he caught sight of the dagger holder strapped to your thigh beneath the dress.

“Let me see,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You sighed but lifted the hem of your dress slightly, revealing the sleek leather strap secured around your leg. The dagger sheath was snug, but König crouched again, checking the fit like a craftsman perfecting his work. His fingers brushed against your skin as he tightened the strap just a notch, ensuring it wouldn’t slip during the mission.

“Too tight?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze flicking up to yours.

“It’s fine,” you assured him just as softly.

He didn’t move for a moment, his hands lingering on your leg, as if debating whether to say something more. Finally, he stood again, his towering presence making you feel both small but protected.

You smoothed your dress back down and turned to the mirror, adjusting your earrings as you spoke. “I’ll go in and blend with the crowd. Makarov’s likely to be well-guarded, so I need to keep a low profile until he makes an appearance.”

“The dagger is already planted in the bathroom,” König interjected, his tone clipped. “Getting it back shouldn’t take long, but—”

“I know,” you cut in, meeting his gaze through the reflection. “Once I have it, the real challenge begins: getting him alone. He won’t make that easy.”

König’s frown deepened, and his hands twitched as if resisting the urge to grab you and pull you back from this entirely. “And you’re sure about this?”

You turned to face him fully, resting your hands on his chest. “I trust you to stay close, in your own way. We agreed on that. If something goes wrong, you’ll know.”

“Right….Sybil will alert me if it does,” König muttered, his gaze dropping for a moment as Sybil, ever-watchful, padded silently across the room to sit by your side. Her dark eyes glinted as she nuzzled your leg.

“Exactly,” you replied, stroking Sybil’s soft fur. “She’ll use our connection to let you know if I need you. But I can’t do this with you breathing down my neck the entire time, König. We have to play it smart.”

He exhaled heavily, his hands found your waist, holding you firmly as he stared down at you. “If he so much as looks at you wrong—”

“You’ll know,” you promised as you patted his hand over the curve of your hip, your voice softer now. “And you’ll do what you do best.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the muffled hum of the world outside. Then König nodded, though his grip on you didn’t loosen. “Be careful,” he said, his voice rough.

“I will. Now let’s finish getting ready. Makarov won’t wait forever.”

. . .

The car slowed to a stop a block away from the club. Even from here, the heavy bass of the music was palpable, vibrating through the cool night air.

König’s gaze was fixed ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. For once, his usual mask was absent, his sharp features faintly visible in the dim light spilling through the windshield. The shadows of the streetlights and car interior kept most of his face obscured, but the darkness couldn’t completely hide the tension etched into his expression.

You had told him not to do it—removing the mask wasn’t necessary, you’d said. You knew how much it meant to him, how it was his ultimate comfort, his shield. But König had made the decision on his own.

He knew wearing it would draw too much attention, especially here. With his towering frame and intimidating presence, he already stood out more than enough. The mask would have been a beacon, and that was something neither of you could afford.

Even now, as the shadows concealed most of his face, you could feel the unease radiating from him. His jaw clenched tightly, his pale eyes flicking toward you for a moment before returning to the road.

“Stay sharp,” he said, his voice carrying that protective edge you’d come to expect.

“I will,” you assured him, turning to Sybil in the backseat. The white-furred Borzoi tilted her head, watching you with an expression that was both serene and perceptive.

Bending closer, you planted a quick kiss on her forehead. When you pulled back, you noticed the faint lipstick mark left behind on her pristine fur. You laughed softly, your nerves easing just a bit. “Sorry, girl. Guess you’re part of the disguise now.”

Sybil blinked at you, her long tail thumping heavily at your tone. 

König, however, wasn’t too amused. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. “I’ll be close.”

You stepped out of the car, your heels clicking against the pavement, and turned back to give him a small wave. “I know. We’ve got this.”

The street buzzed with life, partygoers laughing and chatting in clusters as they moved toward the entrance. The dress, the heels, the way you carried yourself—it all screamed that you belonged here.

The line for Konni stretched down the block, a clear testament to its popularity. The music from inside thudded through the air, mingling with the lively chatter of the crowd waiting to get in. You honed in on a group of girls standing just ahead of you in line, their sparkling outfits catching the glow of the streetlights. One of them laughed loudly, her bold red lipstick standing out against her pale skin. Bingo.

“That lipstick is amazing,” you said warmly, leaning toward her with a friendly smile. “What shade is that? It’s perfect on you.”

The girl blinked in surprise, then lit up at the compliment. “Oh my god, thank you! It’s Riot Red! Do you want to try it?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I wish I could pull it off like you can. Seriously, you look incredible.”

Another girl in the group chimed in, flipping her curls over her shoulder. “No way, you’d look amazing in it. And that dress? You’re killing it.”

You waved a hand dismissively, giving a soft laugh. “You’re sweet. Honestly, I was nervous about coming out tonight, but you guys are making me feel so much better already.”

The first girl grinned and linked her arm through yours without hesitation. “Girl, you’re with us now. We’ve got you.”

The group’s energy was infectious, their chatter and laughter making it easy to blend in. You joined in their conversation, throwing out compliments and jokes that kept the mood light and carefree. As the line shuffled forward, you felt yourself being folded effortlessly into their circle. The bouncer glanced over the group and waved you all through without much hesitation, clearly accustomed to the dynamic of excited, glamorous groups showing up together.

The heavy bass hit you first, reverberating through your chest and pulling you into the club’s electric atmosphere. The lighting was dim and moody, with sharp beams of red and white cutting through the haze of smoke and swirling shadows.

On the far wall behind the bar, the club’s logo loomed large, its eerie design catching the occasional flicker of light. The snake’s skull, menacing and jagged, was crossed from top to bottom by a dagger. Its sharp simplicity made it both unnerving and impossible to ignore. The entire space seemed to echo the symbol’s vibe—sleek and dangerous.

Snakes coiled through the décor in subtle ways, their imagery etched into the mirrored panels behind the bar and wrapped around the bases of the industrial steel light fixtures. Even the bar top gleamed with designs of serpentine scales, the texture faint under the drinks and shifting hands of patrons.

The girls pulled you toward the bar, their laughter and easy energy blending seamlessly with the beat of the music. Their chatter and laughter provided the perfect cover, drawing attention away from you and onto their sparkling outfits and bold personalities.

Still, a flicker of guilt twisted in your chest. These human girls weren’t just a tool for the night—they were kind hearted, naïve in a way that made you feel protective. As you moved through the throng of bodies, you kept them close, flashing an easy smile before leaning in to speak just loud enough to be heard over the pulsing bass.

“Hey, just a quick reminder,” you said, pitching your tone to sound casual but warm, leaning in toward the group as you all shuffled forward in line. “Don’t drink anything someone hands you tonight. Only take what you get straight from the bar, okay?”

One of the girls raised an eyebrow, her glossy lips curving into a knowing smile. “Of course. Duh.”

Another chimed in, rolling her eyes playfully. “Please, we already know that one. This isn’t our first rodeo.”

Their laughter was light, confident, but you could see a flicker of acknowledgment in their eyes.

Still, you smiled back and leaned in slightly. “Good,” you said, your voice dropping just enough to add a hint of seriousness. “Just be careful, girlies. It’s common sense, but places like this…you never know.”

Your grin turned playful again to soften the moment, and they laughed with you, their chatter quickly picking up where it left off. Despite their bravado, you noticed one or two of them glancing at their drinks a little more thoughtfully. Good. At least they’d think twice now.

With their attention pulled back into the lively atmosphere, you allowed your own focus to shift. You moved with them toward the dance floor, your eyes floating upward as casually as possible to the VIP room. Perched like a foreboding crow’s nest above the chaos, it loomed dark and shadowed, its one-way glass concealing its occupants from the prying eyes below. The tinted panes offered privacy, but you could still spot faint movement inside—the shifting silhouettes of figures leaning and gesturing.

Still, you forced yourself to look away, letting your expression remain light and carefree, matching the girls’ as they laughed and swayed to the beat of the music. 

The night unfolded smoothly as the drinks flowed, and you made sure to keep them coming, careful to never take too much for yourself. The bartender seemed unimpressed at first, but as you discreetly slid larger and larger bills across the bar, his demeanor shifted.

Eventually, he placed a drink in front of you—a glittering concoction in a tall glass with a swirl of smoky liquid that caught the red light overhead. Nestled beneath the base of the glass, barely visible, was a sleek black card. Without the bartender noticing, you dumped it into a nearby plant, keeping the card to yourself. A quick glance confirmed what you already suspected: it was access to the VIP section.

You turned back to the girls, who were swaying to the music and laughing, and leaned in close to their circle. “Hey, let’s hit the bathroom, yeah?” You suggested with a grin, loud enough to be heard over the pounding bass.

They nodded eagerly, and together you made your way through the packed dance floor to the restrooms. Once inside, the bright, sterile lighting felt jarring after the club’s shadowy ambiance. The girls chattered amongst themselves, touching up their makeup and fussing over their hair, while you slipped into one of the stalls.

You knelt down, sliding your hand behind the loose panel where the dagger was supposed to be. Instead of the reassuring weight of the weapon, your fingers met nothing but smooth, empty space. Your heart skipped a beat, panic bubbling up. You patted the space again, as if the dagger could materialize if you just tried hard enough. Nothing.

For a long moment, you stared at the panel, your pulse thundering in your ears. No weapon. No fallback. König had said it would be here—he promised. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, steadying your shaking hands. Panicking now would only make things worse. 

You had to improvise.

Sliding the panel back into place, you stood and smoothed your dress, your movements deliberate. You couldn’t afford to let your nerves show. You emerged from the stall to find the girls still preoccupied, their laughter echoing off the tiled walls.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you said lightly, your voice pitched perfectly to sound casual. They didn’t question you, too absorbed in their own banter to notice you slipping out of the bathroom alone.

The black card felt heavier in your hand now as you approached the staircase to the VIP section. The bouncer’s sharp eyes landed on you briefly, but the card was enough to grant you passage without a word.

Each step upward felt like it stretched forever, the muffled sounds of the club below fading into a muted afterthought. That familiar, sickening sensation crept over you—the same one you’d felt around Leah all those weeks ago, only far stronger here. The air was thick and oppressive, charged with something dark and vile. It twisted your stomach, but you shoved the feeling aside.

This was it. There was no turning back now.

At the top of the stairs, the VIP section unfolded before you, a luxurious den of decadence. Dim red lighting cast long, menacing shadows over plush leather couches and low tables scattered with untouched drinks. The hum of low conversation and private laughter buzzed faintly in the air.

And there, at the center of it all, was Makarov.

He sat like a king on his throne, reclined in a sleek leather armchair with an air of effortless arrogance. His sharp features were illuminated by the dim, blood-red lighting—the angular planes of his face exaggerated by the shadows, making him look more predator than man. His dark hair was neatly combed back, and the contrast between his polished appearance and the grotesque menace he exuded was unsettling, making the room feel even colder.

Surrounding him were men and women alike, all undeniably vampires. They stood and watched with the same unnatural grace—too perfect, too controlled. It was clear that every person in the room served one purpose: to feed Makarov’s ego and protect his rule.

Keeping your composure, you let your eyes sweep the room, as though taking it all in with detached curiosity. You knew you were being watched—eyes flicking to you with interest, hunger, and something darker.

You moved with confidence, choosing an empty seat that gave you a clear view of the room while placing you within arm’s reach of Makarov’s position. The luxurious leather felt cool beneath you as you crossed your legs, projecting ease you didn’t feel.

It didn’t take long for one of Makarov’s companions to approach. A woman, tall and striking, with dark skin and a predatory glint in her eyes, sashayed over to you. Without a word, she slid onto your lap, one bare leg draped possessively over yours.

“Well, aren’t you interesting,” she purred, her sharp nails tracing a slow line down your shoulder.

Succubus.

You forced a coy smile, letting her linger. Play along. Blend in.

Her laughter was low and rich, her fingers curling briefly around your chin as she leaned in closer. Her nails were sharp, painted a glossy black that matched the sleek fabric of her gown. The scent of her perfume—sickly sweet, with an underlying metallic tang—was cloying as she hovered just inches from your face.

“Let me get us something… special.” she purred, her voice dripping with amusement.

With a graceful wave of her hand, she summoned a man from the shadows—a server carrying a tray of drinks that sparkled faintly under the dim lights. He approached swiftly, bowing his head slightly as he placed the tray on the table in front of you.

She plucked one of the crystal glasses from the tray, her long fingers wrapping delicately around the stem as she swirled the crimson liquid inside. Her eyes flicked back to you, glinting with something predatory, and a slow smile spread across her lips.

“Here,” she said, holding the glass to your lips as though feeding a lover. “Try this. It’s… divine.”

You hesitated for the briefest moment, the weight of her gaze and the oppressive atmosphere of the room pressing down on you. Refusing wasn’t an option—not here, not now. With a carefully crafted smile, you allowed her to tilt the glass, the cold liquid brushing your lips as you sipped.

The taste was strange, rich and coppery, sending a chill down your spine. It took all your willpower to keep your expression neutral, to meet her gaze with a coquettish smile instead of the unease clawing at your insides.

Her laughter bubbled again as she set the glass down, leaning even closer until her lips were near your ear. “Good, isn’t it?” she murmured, her hand tracing the edge of your jaw.

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over the both of you. Makarov’s presence was immediate, suffocating, as he stepped closer.

He waved her off with a dismissive gesture, and she immediately slipped off your lap, her sultry demeanor replaced by something obedient and servile. She shot you one last lingering glance before disappearing into the shadows of the room.

Makarov took the now-vacant spot beside you, leaning back leisurely as if he owned the entire world. His presence was overwhelming up close, the stench of blood and decay mingling with the faint trace of expensive cologne.

“It’s about time you got here,” he said smoothly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His smile widened, sharp and wolfish.

Your pulse kicked up in your ears. It was only then that you noticed—somehow, without you realizing it, the room had emptied. The other figures who had been laughing and drinking moments ago were gone, leaving you completely alone with him.

Makarov leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, menacing rumble. “I can smell your fear,” he said, his gaze burning into you. “And I can’t wait to taste it.”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t look away, forcing yourself to hold his gaze.

“But first,” he continued, his tone almost playful now, “I wanted to know—did you enjoy my little present?”

The cold realization settled in your stomach like a stone. He was talking about Leah. The parasite.

“I thought it was fitting,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “In the end, it was all for the best, wasn’t it? I rid you of an incapable group of men. They were... distractions, holding you back.”

Your nails dug into the soft leather of the seat as his words sank in, rage battling nausea in your chest. Makarov leaned closer, his grin widening, his teeth gleaming faintly in the dim light.

“You should be thanking me,” he murmured. “Don’t you think?”

Before you could respond, his demeanor shifted in an instant, the calm arrogance replaced by a sudden, terrifying violence. His hand shot out, gripping your arm like a vice, and before you could react, he slammed you against the crystal table by you feet.

The force sent everything on it crashing to the ground—glassware shattered into jagged pieces, scattering across the floor like ice shards. A sharp edge sliced across your arm as you instinctively tried to brace yourself, and you couldn’t stifle the grunt of pain that escaped your lips.

But there was no time to dwell on it. Makarov was on you, his weight pressing down as you scrambled to push yourself free. The crimson light overhead bathed his face, highlighting the feral hunger in his eyes as he leaned closer, trapping you further.

“You’re so clever, aren’t you?” he sneered, his voice dripping with venom as his grip tightened. “The dagger. Those two mutts outside. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Your blood ran cold. “What—”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Makarov interrupted, his smirk widening as his dark eyes bored into yours. “Your precious hound and that oversized brute you left lurking in the shadows? They’ve already been dealt with. Did you really think you could waltz in here and catch me off guard?”

“And running back to the coven,” he spat, his lips curling in disdain. “How predictable. But for me, the seed was already planted. I knew you’d come. I knew your temper, your pride, your weakness.”

His hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he spoke, his tone turning mockingly soft. “You still love them, don’t you? The pack. Pathetic as they are. That love—it’s a chain, binding you to them. And I took full advantage of it.”

Your nails scraped against the slick surface of the shattered table, your mind racing for a way out as his words sunk in.

“You’re nothing but a puppet,” he growled, his face inches from yours now. “And you danced perfectly for me.”

Before you could scramble away, Makarov moved with terrifying speed, shoving you down to the floor. The impact sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through you as shards of glass dug into your skin, the cold, jagged edges biting deep. You gasped, your hands instinctively trying to push him off, but he was relentless.

He loomed over you for a moment, his dark eyes gleaming with triumph. Then, to your shock, he dropped to his knees, his movements eerily graceful despite the chaos.

Glass crunched under his weight as he knelt, uncaring of the jagged edges slicing into his legs and palms. Blood welled briefly where the shards pierced his flesh, but the injuries healed almost instantly, sealing themselves as if they’d never existed.

Pinned beneath him, you twisted and struggled, your breath ragged as you tried to claw at his arms, his face—anything to create distance. But Makarov was immovable, his grip iron-tight as he held you in place.

His lips curled into a cruel smile, his voice a low, taunting growl. “You’ve been fighting so hard,” he murmured, his gaze boring into yours. “But it’s over now.”

Before you could muster a response or another desperate attempt to free yourself, his head dipped low, and his teeth sank into the curve of your neck.

Pain exploded through you, sharp and searing, as if fire had replaced your blood. Your body arched involuntarily, a cry caught in your throat as his fangs tore into your skin. The world tilted, the room spinning in a haze of crimson and agony.

Your body trembled, each beat of your heart pushing more blood into his greedy mouth. But even as the agony burned, you focused as your bloodied hands moved with purpose, curling around a jagged shard of crystal glass. The rage bubbling in your chest was impossible to contain. It surged, hot and molten, drowning out the pain and fear.

As he took his first deep gush, savoring the rush of your blood, you moved. With all the strength you could muster, you drove the shard into his neck, the jagged glass sinking deep into the pale flesh just below his jaw.

Makarov’s smirk faltered, the smugness on his face twisting into confusion. At first, he barely reacted, his arrogance shining through. Physical blows didn’t faze him—he’d been through countless fights, shrugged off countless attacks.

But then the wound began to ache. The ache turned into a burn, a searing pain that spread like wildfire. His eyes widened in shock, the smugness melting into something raw and he felt…..

Fear.

He tried to pull away, his hands pushing against your shoulders to break free, but you clung to him with all your might.

“Oh no,” you hissed through gritted teeth, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Your fingers dug into the wound, twisting the shard deeper as his regeneration faltered. You could feel the slickness of your blood mixing with his as you pressed harder, your nails scraping against the flesh.

Makarov let out a low growl, his movements turning frantic as realization dawned. He could feel it—the poison seeping into his veins, halting the regenerative abilities he relied on. Your nails, coated with the blend your mother and Horangi had painstakingly prepared, tore at the flesh around the shard, ensuring the concoction spread.

His growl turned into a ragged snarl, his hands clawing at you weakly as the pain consumed him. “What… have you… done?” he rasped, his voice choked with disbelief and rage.

“You want to know what I’ve done?” you snapped, your voice rising, your fury unleashed. “This is my real temper, you bastard!"

Your words were scalding, each one sharper than the shard in your hand. “You said you knew me. That you planted the seed, that I’d come because of my temper? Well, congratulations—you were right. And now, I’m here.”

You twisted the shard again, your nails digging deeper into his flesh, right where the concoction soaked them. Makarov’s snarl broke into a gasp of pain, his body jerking as the poison coursed through him.

“I promised,” you seethed, leaning closer so he could feel the full force of your rage. “I promised I’d have your head. And I don’t break promises.”

banner credit

[n30nwrites]

Fetch (Shifter! Tf141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 4 of Good Doggy

Masterlist

Tw - Drunk Assholes (inspired by real stories from me :)), Slight blood warning, Language (its a COD fanfic??), OKAY SO LIKE I GUESS SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE STUFF?? I WANTED TO MAKE IT LONGER. A SMALL SCENE OF NSFW BUT NOTHING TOO DEEP BUT STILL PUTTING A WARNING, ITS IN BETWEEN THE NSFW GRAPHICS. Gaz has a praise kink.

Beta Reader/Editor - @letmelickyoureyeballs

Updated: 3/5/2024

The bar is filled. It’s a Friday night, of course it is but you hate it. You don’t like dealing with assholes. Not after the conversation with Maya.

“I cannot serve you anymore. If you don’t decide to leave I will call the cops.” The man in front of you shouts profanity after profanity, angered by the law. Humans were stupid that way. “Here’s a water.” You slam it down, annoyed.

Idiots. Drunken idiots.

Yeah by Usher starts playing. The club you worked at was loud, you have ear plugs in just so you wouldn’t be overstimulated by everything, but you could still hear enough.

“Why do you have a mask on?” He's irritated already which means that this conversation will not end well. You usually strive to give your coworkers the assholes, not caring that he'll have to deal with it. 

"It's to stay safe, I don't want to get sick-"

The man cuts you off and you debate on spitting in his drink, "That's not gonna keep you safe, the only way to stay safe is to build your immune system." He keeps yelling, and some spit leaves his mouth. You place down the menu in front of him as he keeps yelling, "That's the only way to stay safe, not a stupid mask!" 

You walk away, going to your coworker and telling him to get his order cause if you do you'll be fired. You instead went over to the list of music that was going to play and put on a favorite song of yours, not caring for some disgruntled noise from other patrons as you bobbed your head to the beat, distracting yourself from the day you had.

"Ye lik' this song mo gaol?" It's the familiar accent and the way the hairs on your arms stand makes you more irritated. It was roughly 1 a.m. and most people would be tired. You'd reckon it would start slowly down in 20 minutes, which meant you could get some work done.

You turned to face Soap.

"I'd hope so, I chose it." You tell him as you get closer to him. "You still stalking me?"

"Ah'ahmnot a stalker, juist wanted a drink." He smiles boyishly, as if he wasn't Sergeant John ``Soap" MacTavish with more confirmed kills than unconfirmed.

"At the bar I work at?"

"Juist a coincidence"

"I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me." You told him while you mixed a drink. "You obviously have something for me."

"A'm in loue wi' ye"

"Not possible." You tell him, interrupting his "confession". You set the drink down in front of him. "$13" You tell him the price.

"I didnae orda a drink?" He looked cheeky, and you wished some part of you didn't find him attractive. But he looks up at you and you can't help but imagine other scenarios, particularly some where you're both naked.

"Well you can either pay for the drink and drink it, or pay for the drink and I'll drink it and talk with you some more." Soap immediately puts down two 20s.

"Th' rest can go to mah bartender." You slip the extra cash into your pocket, going to your POS system and breaking out for your thirty minute break that was required. You grabbed the drink on the counter and left your work area, Soap following behind like a puppy. You found a booth in the corner most people avoided. Sitting down at what could fit five others at most. Your mind goes back to Maya, who’s probably taking care of Icarus, your dog, and Marigold, her familiar. Maya worked as well, but it was an in-house job where she dealt with customers in need of assistance.

"You hurt our feelin`s earlier," He says first as you take a sip of the drink you made. "Hae we dane something tae offend ye?"

"Don't want to get your hopes up." You tell him, "I'm not one for soulmates."

"So ye know?"

"Of course I do. You reek of wolf." He starts to sniff himself and you want to laugh at how ridiculous it looks. "You wouldn't be able to smell it. And it's not a bad smell, just obnoxious cause there's four of you."

"So ye aren't human." 

"Nope, never was."

"What are ye?" You never felt shame in what you were. Didn't feel shame in general, it took Maya for you to start walking around in clothes. 

But you didn't want to tell him. 

"None of your business."

Gaz knows that Price is going to talk about the bloodshed in the morning. He knows that Price already knows but doesn't care to stop it tonight. Price is just too drunk, Ghost doesn’t care, and Soap is who knows where. It wasn’t like he killed humans tonight, just some animals that were definitely going to get the town's attention (He might’ve killed a bear) but not the hunters.

He's decorated in blood and he loves it. It soothes some messed-up part of him. His teeth still have specks of flesh in it, that he licks clean

He smells you. Heavenly you. You who smells like some plant burning. He didn't understand it, but he loved it.

You're next to Soap, and Soap has the biggest grin as you walk together. 

Though you probably don't see it as together. You probably see it as him stalking you, but you don't seem to have your usual air of distaste. You have sunglasses on, something he hates cause he can't stare at them. Your mask is black, and you also have a hood on. You look perfect, he just wishes you were in his bedroom.

Preferably naked and-

Nope.

He kind of hates it at the same time though. Soap getting so close to you, still determined to find a way to be with you. Soap didn't lose hope, not like Gaz did. But he'd be damned if he didn't do something. He lets out a growl, standing menacingly as he runs forward, towards both of you, knocking Soap down as he growls at him, his teeth snapping. If Gaz doesn't get to be happy, Soap shouldn't either.

He just wasn't expecting your reaction.

"Get off him." He followed your command, staring up at you and following your eyes when you bent down to be eye level with him. "God you are so..."

"Cute." Your voice gets higher as you gently rub behind his ears, the blood not bothering you at all. Gaz almost forgets how you looked at him earlier, your words that cut him melted away and he just thinks he has a chance.

You loved dogs, who wouldn't? Even if that dog was actually a grown (hot) man. 

"Look who's such a pretty boy." You kept rubbing his head as Soap just stared in shock. "Such a handsome boy, who did you eat?" You coo at Gaz, who leans into your touch and praise, enjoying everything about this moment. Gaz has to take a moment to remember himself, that the praise you give him is nothing.

But he can't help but imagine scenarios in a different setting.

NSFW Start

It's such a simple setting. In his room, the lights are low. He's flushed, shirtless and on the floor, while you sit above him.

"Can't you be a good boy for me?" You lick your lip before biting it, you stare at him, your eyes actually showing, looking at him with lust and love. A perfect combination, and your lips, god, you were perfect for him. "Come on, you know you want to." You lower your shorts and Gaz gulps, he stares at your cock, mesmerized.

"You're hungry for it, aren't you whore?"

NSFW End

"Arr ye fecken' kidding me?" Soap says, breaking the peaceful moment, and Gaz's daydream. "A' it took wis a wolf fur ye to lik' us?" 

"I still don't like you all, but dogs are always a great company." You keep petting him, Gaz's eyes closing slightly, and Soap sits up. 

"Ah can do that toh." His accent gets thicker as he rushes to grab your hand, forcing it away from Gaz and instead putting it in his hair. Which was mostly shaved on the sides.

"You aren't a cute puppy right now." You yank your hand away.

"He's fooken' bloody!"

Gaz licks your face, and you slightly smile.

----

NEXT

Listen, hating people is one thing but I could never hate a dog, let alone a wolf. Reader still doesn't feel comfortable around the boys, but he does like the dogs.

[cookie-crumblr]

Spectral Tiger

GN!Reader × Invisible M!Yan OC

Part 1~

Intro <<< >>> Next Part

His info: ✨💎🩹

MINORS DNI

CW: G/N Reader, reader is a sub, reader referred to as they/them, teasing, sexual themes, public nudity, long part lots of little mini jumps, not proofread, slower burn, still no smut!! <3

“You sure you aren’t just some creep? I mean you bumped into me… Naked. I feel like i have to re shower now.” You wrap your arms around yourself, “Why didn’t you just say something sooner?”

“That was not on purpose, as I explained before, I was simply waiting until I could figure out my next steps.” He sighs, your floor creaks as he presumably paces, “I’ve never inter-dimensionally traveled before, let alone unexpectedly, please forgive that i’m a little out of my element.” he sounds earnest.

With a little more worry on your bottom lip you respond more thoughtfully this time, “Right, that would actually make sense… Its hard to discredit you right now too, since you’re actually invisible like right in front of me.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh.

“Okay we’ll, how do we hide that you’re, you know, not visible at all without making you wear a full on suit?”

“I’m assuming you have masks in this realm.”

“I am not walking around with a freak in a mask.”

“I could just stay naked, then we won’t have to worry about anyone seeing me.” he says simply.

“Absolutely not.”

~

Your eyes are wide and you’re completely silent.

He has a really nice body.

Like insanely nice.

He’s tall, and lean, with a wider upper body and a model waistline. His posture exudes comfort and a calm coolness. Good gods. he was sculpted by them for sure.

You pick your jaw off of the floor.

the only stupid thing is the poorly crafted wolf mask you have on his head… You bite your thumbnail…

“Well, how’s this freak in a mask look~? I kinda like your fashion over here.” He spins around to see all angles of himself in the mirror. The regular clothes at this store are actually pretty cute, he found some baggier pants that cinch at the ankles, with straps and chains that he instantly picked out, along with a feminine fit T from the movie scream.

It really hugs his figure and shows off his physique.

You’re blowing gaskets left and right trying to focus on other things, sat on the pouf in the corner of the family changing room.

You had told the spirit halloween employee you’d like a lot of room. They weren’t busy so they happily obliged. You also had to call work and tell them you’d be running late, and since you have a good track record (and a high position) they’re only giving you a warning.

You sigh, a little annoyed, and a little anxious by how hot he is. “You look fine.” it comes out sour on your tongue, to witch he chuckles.

“You look cute~” he finger guns you.

Yet another sigh escapes you, although this one is more of a groan, and through gritted teeth you simply say, “Let’s just go.”

Awkwardly, you pay for everything while trying not to freak out, imagining that everyone thinks you’re a couple of weirdos. At least it’s close to halloween. Another small blessing.

~

You debate leaving him in the car with the ac on… In his stupid dog mask he’d be like a little puppy, you’d put one of those “the music is playing and the ac is on” signs in the window.

Giggling to yourself, he pulls you back to reality with “May I become privy to the joke?”

“MaY i bEcOmE pRiVy?!” You bust out laughing what the fuck dimension did he come from? a Shakespearean one? “Sorry, sorry. I was just thinking of locking you in my car for the day.”

His head turns and he stops abruptly, but you quicken your pace, head tilted high into the air, a satisfied smirk on your face. “What?” You ask innocently.

You end up taking a zoober, driving in the city makes you a little anxious, since you live more on the outskirts in a nice gated district.

Luckily they don’t even really spare a glance back at you or your masked companion.

That doesn’t help your anxiety in the slightest however.

On the way he “ooo”’s and “aaah”’s at electronic billboards and screens on buildings. He must be from a time that’s slightly behind yours.

~

So far the only people asking about him once you get to the office are curious, and infatuated co workers, cant blame them.

As long as your boss doesn’t come in toda-

Here he comes.

straight to your office as always, his favorite little employee.

You try as hard as you can to shrink or become one with your chair, or both at once desperately.

“Well now, Y/N, who’s this? A client?”

“Not exactly,” Jack can just pull up your files and quickly deduce that this man is not in fact, a client, so it’s no use lying about that… “He’s a friend, that just flew in, i didn’t want to leave him alone in a hotel or at my place on his first day so i brought him here.” It flies out almost too naturally.

“Well hey there, friend,” He may as well of spat the word in his covered face. “What’s up with the mask?” the way his demeanor changed so fast would’ve given you whiplash if you weren’t used to Jacks mood swings and personality shifts.

“He’s a little high profile, Jack. You know, cant be seen in public type, or he might get noticed and he’s trying not to let that happen.”

“Shouldn’t I get to know who he is since I’m housing him here at this moment,” He leans on the door frame.

“Nope. Sorry, and you’re not ‘housing’ him” you throw up air quotes, “he’s just visiting”

He leaves slightly huffy but he thankfully dropped it, probably not wanting to look even worse in front of a possible celebrity.

You click your tongue.

“He’s so into you,” Zharu leans back in the red chair he’s claimed for himself, one leg crossed over the other.

“Ew no he’s just my boss.” You type nonsense into the keyboard.

“You aren’t even typing words, Y/N” he announces it the way Jack did and your face warms embarrassedly. “So what are we doing after this?” He sits up and surprisingly turns the Tv off.

“Shut up, you don’t even know what typing is. And were going to a rehearsal,” most of your family doesn’t show up, so he should be safe to come… But a mask would be extremely inappropriate… “Fuck… Looks like you’re going out naked today after all”

How could you possibly get him anything that would be even remotely close to appropriate with his entire body covered. Especially with so little time, a full body cast is out of the question!

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

~

You are more than acutely aware of how he is fully naked in a seat right next to you. And from earlier when he bumped into you you are aware of the fact that he has a rather decent package…

It’s too hot in this auditorium suddenly.

He shifts his weight until you feel his hair, slightly longer than you would’ve guessed, tickle your shoulder.

You grip the arm rest to stop yourself from jumping into the stratosphere! What is he doing getting so close!?

“What is this place for?” He whispers into your ear.

You let out a long exhale to steele yourself, relax, of course he’s just curious and didn’t want to draw attention by speaking loudly. What were you thinking!

“A-Ah oh um! it’s a theater, people come here to watch other people preform for entertainment,and money” You smile while keeping your eyes toward the stage.

Your heart rate almost steadies before he lets out a small sigh in understanding. It’s a pleasant sound, his voice rumbles slightly. Then he leans in even closer, His nose barely brushing into your hair now, “If I had money it’d definitely be entertaining to watch you preform for me,”

“What!?” Your hair stands on its ends, “!I mean, What!? What I mean—,” You’re short circuiting. You breathe and pinch yourself, calm down he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Probably. In the mean time he’s pulled away, totally chuckling, while trying to keep himself quiet, “What do you think I would even preform?” you ask.

his body is suddenly even closer to yours, his hand gently caresses the opposite side your chin from where he’s sitting, “I could think of a few things…”

Steam might just about burst out of your ears! He does know!

Not too much longer and your brother enters the stage, he’s always the center performer. You stand to applaud loudly for him, he doesn’t show any emotion but you know he’s beaming on the inside.

“So cute~” you hear him say it softly, as if to himself, and your face warms as you try and forget about it.

When you reseat yourself, his hand lightly comes down onto your mid thigh.

[pillowbugs]

so uh. that poto au i did just over a week ago.

was playing around with some ships to figure out who would fit the roles of the other characters, and landed on airplaneshipping for christine and raoul. preferably ignore all the plot that would have to happen to lead to this point. (the scene where the phantom shoots fireballs, except in the pokémon universe it's a full on battle against the phantom and his chandelure. for an added bonus, look up the name of the 'song' sung during this part of the musical.)

unmasked ver. (additional design notes under cut)

elesa:

christine's dress in this scene is light blue, which is a colour that is indeed present in elesa's design (her bw2 outfit moreso). elesa not wearing any yellow felt wrong though, which is why the layers underneath are yellow-tinted.

went with her bw1 hair colour because christine was blonde in the original book.

her cloak is mostly based off her bw2 jacket in shape; it's black with a red clasp, which makes it not only similar to the cloak donned by christine in the musical but also retains the same idea of the cloak being a visual representation of the phantom's (who wears mostly black) hold over them. (+ the other colour ingo is most associated with is red.)

however, because of the lighting, said cloak appears yellow on the side closer to skyla - more similar to her canon design, and being close to skyla in a way rids her of the darkness.

she gets to change her hairstyle as a treat.

skyla:

it wasn't common for women to wear waistcoats at the time (1900s), but sapphics in history quite famously fucked with a lot of gender norms.

actually both of these lovebirds are blue now. sets up a colour contrast between the lighter, friendlier blues of the couple and the darkness and reds of the phantom. (blue = friend and red = foe like it's fire emblem)

the way swanna is placed is intentional, to set up a more angelic imagery mirroring the phantom's darker version (more on that in a bit).

both women wear matching white roses in their hair. something something flower symbolism. but skyla does also have feathers in her hair, for obvious reasons.

swoobat because hearts :D

ingo:

was debating on whether to make him actually more deformed in this au, but didn't really feel in the mood to sit down and design it in detail for this piece.

there isn't much i can say about his outfit design given it's literally just mashing his usual uniform together with his butler alt from masters. though upon actually looking up the phantom's outfit, the end result is actually surprisingly close. not surprising given both wear victorian suits and primarily wear black.

my original concept for the au was that he still works with the subway, he just does it from the shadows instead of being a public figure - hence he still wears a train conductor's hat. though since the battle subway isn't a thing (or at least not in the form we know it) he doesn't have its logo.

his cloak is intentionally flared up in this scene, for a few reasons: 1) it looks cool, 2) it resembles gliscor (albeit it isn't present here) and 3) mirrors skyla with a darker angelic imagery - the original musical had the whole "angel of music / death" thing.

i actually went through quite a few variations of his mask before settling on this one, and even then i'm not entirely satisfied with it.

version 1: exactly the same as the one used in most advertising for the musical - decently terrifying, but considering ingo's main 'issue' is his mouth, which this (and the one actually used within the musical) doesn't cover, this would be completely useless aside from probably hiding his identity and especially his resemblance to emmet.

version 2: leaned more into the angle of trying to alter his expression, particularly to be smiling instead - to be more similar to his brother. also suitably unsettling, but this specific style wouldn't work if you looked at him from any angle besides this one though. also, from this angle, because his actual mouth is obscured, i was worried he would actually be mistaken for emmet instead (given generally fandom tends to make emmet the unhinged one - let ingo have some fun too, guys).

version 3, the one i went with: has patterns at the cheeks simulating the edges of a smile (and also has the black-on-white contrast); his actual mouth is hidden but visible through the cloth.

why is there a litwick on the gravestone? good question!

in all honesty, this was part me drawing blorbos into an au and part me conceptualising what the pokémon universe version of POTO would look like.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Trust

Pairing- Sully family x darkfey!reader

Pairing- The Sullys meet a special girl.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4

"C'mon papa lets goooo." Tuk said pulling her father by the hand. Jake grabbed his dagger just in case anything happens and Neytiri always had her bow as she followed behind Kiri and the boys. Today was family bonding day, the boys and Kiri were anything but excited.

"Don't know why I gotta go." Lo'ak said earning him a wack to the head from Neytiri. "Because it is the one day me and your father can spend time with yiu and not focus on our duties." Neytiri said tail swaying along with her turning her son around by his shoulder and pushing his back before speaking again. "Now go." She says and he huffs following behind his older brother.

They walked deeper and deeper into the woods and Neytiri looked around she didn't recognize the area they were in. "Ma Jake I don't think we jave been this far before." Neytiri said clenching her bow now ready for anything. "Yeah I think we went to far shit." He said he doesn't remember which way they came. Kiri looked pissed, "We're lost thats great thats great." She retorted sitting on a cut down stump. "Calm down I'm sure that there is something out here that will point in the right direction home." Jake said picking Tuk up and walking deeper into the woods, reluctantly everyone else followed.

.

.

.

.

They walked, and walked, and walked.

Three hours of walking and still surrounded in jungle. And then they heard a crunch immediately pulling their weapons out Neytiri, Jake, Neteyam and Lo'ak stood ready to fight Lo'ak a little less as he's trying to get maple off his finger but still.

Crouching closer to were the around came forward they pull the bush back and reveal three small creatures, small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, they had fur all over their bodies, and the fur under their mouths cane out like a mustache, and they had cute little clothes they must have made themselves, they held small fruit and looked to be arguing before they saw the tall Na'vi.

Dropping the fruit they crouched to the ground shivering and whimpering, the boys put their weapons up but Neytiri still looked debating whether to kill them but then everyone was flung back by a strong gust of green wind and they heard a loud snap that sounded like thunder.

Neteyam coughs as he stands up helping his mother and father up and then going to his siblings. They check on each other before turning to see what knocked them. And what they saw was definitely not what they expected.

It was a girl.

A girl who picked those smaller creatures up in her palm and apologized to them before giving them a few small snacks before they scurried away from the strangers. You grabbed your staff that was resting on a tree and green air made its way to them keeping them there. As they had there hands up.

They all looked at you, you looked like a human, but their height and no need for a breathing mask, pointed ears as well, and you had horns, you wore a long sleeve top that was open in the back and the bottoms made a skirt that split up the sides blacks and whites browns and beiges was what colored your pallet, and green air surrounded your hands as it surronded their feet and it held their feet in place your eyes glowed as the air began and strengthened.

Neytiri bared her fangs at you and you did the same loud hiss coming from your throat. "Why have you come here?" You ask. "Please we will speak if you let us go." Jake tried to negotiate and you observed him for a while and you sensed no sight of decement.

Looking at the weapons that were a few feet from them you moved one of your hands to the side and somehow the weapons moved with you hand. You let their legs free and they all sighed Tuk reached for your horns and you looked at her confused and Neytiri pulled her back.

"Okay talk." You say and Jake is taken back by tour straight forwardness. "Okay we seem to have found ourselves lost and we would like directions back to the Omaticaya clan." Jake says rubbing his knuckles nervously.

"You got lost, stupid." You mutter and Neytiri throughs you a glare which you smirk at. "Fine but the directions are too complicated and I don't want you harming my home more than you already have I'll take you back." You say and Jake looked physically relived until he realized how did you know where they lived.

"I've lived in these jungles for all my life I know it's surrounding areas." You answer their obvious confusion. And then you head east.

The walk was quite, a really awkward quite and then Kiri saw the scars on your back as if something was cut off of you, hitting Lo'aks arm she points to your back and his eyes widen and looks at his sister who is just a curious. "So um," he goes to say your name but doesn't know it. "Y/N." You sigh wanting the conversation to be over already.

"What are you exactly?" He asks and Neteyam elbows him in the ribs making him yelp in pain. Smiling at the foolishness of the two you stemp your staff into the ground before stepping over a stump.

"I am a dark fey." You say and he hums in response. The family remember about Mo'at telling them about Feys and their abilities although they thought they were extinct. And back to silence it was, or at least for five minutes.

Do all the Fey people have wings?" Tuk asked and you stepped around a rock and your straight posture doesn't fold as you walk throughout the bumpy forest. "Most do." You reply.

"Then why don't you?" She chippered. "If all the others fly." She added and before her father could scold her you stopped him.

"I had wings once they were stolen from me." You say before stopping and turning to the family who seemed to have a lot of questions. "That's all I wish to say about it." You say sharply. Tuk smiled up at you. "What color were they? Were they big?" She questioned and you blinked a few times at the memory of your wings.

"So big they dragged when I walked." You breathed in as you remember the way the wind hit your wings and would sore through the air as your feathers would drift a little. "And strong, they could carry me above the clouds and into the headwinds and they never faltered, not even once." Looking at the ground pausing before you spoke once more. "I could trust them."

"Awesome." Neteyam whispered he normally talked very proper byt that was the only word he could think off, awesome. "What?" The word was strange to you but yiu couldn't help but giggle. "It means cool like amazing, glorious." Jake used fancy words hopefully it would get through. You smile, "they were quite glorious." You say before taking a few more steps. Pushing a tree leaf back your reveal the back entrance to their home.

You couldn't but feel saddened that they had to leave. Even though they did annoy you the first little bit of getting to know them they were quite kind. Neytiri could feel your emotions somehow she felt quite saddened had you been all alone? Parents? Grandparents? Anyone? She couldn't ahe wouldn't let you go back alone.

"Y/N live with the Omaticaya so you are not lonely." Neytiri said and Jake looked bewildered. "What?" You ask confused. "You are to small a girl to live in a whole foret live with us, you must be awfully lonely." Neytiri said and you had to admit, you were lonely everyday, no matter how many woodland creatures you talk to or tame you could never feel that little void in your soul.

You wait a second, you weren't entirely sure if you could trust them, you might regret this later in but you nod and they began to walk into hometree, your new home.

[ghostr0tz]

please please share your vox neurodivergent headcanons

*smacks the top of his head* this bad boy can fit SO many problems and disorders in him.

but before we start i do want to say i am saying this all as personal headcanons as someone with my own laundry list of issues. Okay lets go:

HEAVYYYYY on Autism. Has a VERY strict routine he sticks to and gets sooo fucking irritated when it gets interrupted. The only except is if its a Vee and its something Important to them (he still gets petty about it though). It mostly revolves around work.

He's extremely sensory seeking, and constantly fidgetting and stimming. He paces. A LOT.

Vox is very touchy to friends but will kill a stranger for bumping into him. Constantly touching Val's fluff and Velvette's nicer-feeling clothes.

LOVES compression . Makes Val lay on him all the time. He's like a personal weighted blanket. His body being partially mechanical makes his under-sensitive to stimuli. Hard for him to really process pain and managing it.

VERY opinionated and vindictive about his thoughts and takes. Takes it very personal if you disagree and will try SO hard to yell at you to see how he's right.

The Vees are constantly getting in debates that concern anyone around them but they all love it. They all fucking love arguing.

Special Interest in technology (new AND old), movies and shows (constantly rewatching classics), and biology. Does not let anyone get a SINGLE word in unless its questions when he's infodumping.

Probably has ADHD too. Talkative as shit when he feels hyperactive. Has such a strict routine with himself because he knows if he doesn't stick to it he WILL go insane and become a bit of a #disaster.

Medicated? Yes!!!! Remembers to take his medication? Also yes but ONLY because he's set so many alarms and reminds for himself.

He Has So Many Alarms For Everything. It drives the other Vees insane how his phone seems to go off every. other. fucking. minute.

Hard to keep Vox's attention on things and is constantly cycling through content like his life depends on it. Always has SOMETHING playing near him unless he's really overwhelmed from the day.

It doesn't take a whole lot to make him go nonverbal, usually plays captions on his face or has a speech assistant on his phone that sounds like him.

This bitch is SOOO Bipolar coded though. He's disinterested in a lot of life and usually in a depressive swing. His swings of mania are VERY bad and chaotic though (Stayed Gone is such a good mania portrayal . TO ME).

Alastor very much triggers his mania and psychosis probably before their split and very CLEARLY afterwards.

Also probably on the schizospectrum. Probably Schizoaffective?

Hallucinates when he's having mania swings and psychotic symptoms. Has some pretty bad delusions too about his power and status and definitely had them BEFORE he was an overlord. has delusions about his relationships too. (probably did NOT help when he and Al were on good terms. probably played a role in their split)

Also his glitches feel like tics to me and its important i say that or ill explode. He masks them pretty well in public and has gotten used to playing them off. But the Vees have gotten used to him accidentlly smackign them while ticcing.

okay i think thats it for now. hope you enjoyed my rambles :0 !

[thetravelingtyper]

Comfort Character Part 3: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Real-Life! Fanfiction Author Reader

After a long day, you go out with a few coworkers while Simon is away. At the bar, you meet some familiar faces...

Warnings: Use of alcohol in a bar setting

Part 1, Part 2, Masterlist

AN! As stated this Simon is particularly from my Spitfire series, not a necessary read but I do recommend checking out at least Spitfire!

You learned very quickly Simon was a sure man. What do you mean by that, you ask dear reader? Well, the man knew what he liked. One Nebula, that man was apparently born to love your cat. His quiet nature suited the fluffball well. Simon had taken up the library corner of your apartment as his own, often reading in the sunlight with Nebula tucked into his lap. What you didn’t know is that the man wore glasses, a round pair settled on his face as he read.

Second, the man loved food. Despite being quite obviously British the man could cook. You fixed meals for two, often with Simon slotting (you hate to say it) naturally into your work. And despite your fear, he always insisted on paying for groceries and bringing them in himself. You guessed it was from his traveling all over but the man would eat anything. He would wake up early, go to work out then join you for a later breakfast. Or when you would work or do school work you would often hear a knock on your door and a meow. Simon would then open the door with Nebula trailing at his feet, two plates of food in his hands. Where you used to skip a meal for work, Simon was adamant about you eating.

Third, he was devoted to you. What do you mean by that? Well, where you were, you had a shadow, a hand of his usually close or on you, especially when you were running errands. You weren't blind to the attractive man, nor was the world. His height was a calling card, and with the mask adding that flair of mystery a few people swooned. Despite the looks however Simon kept close to you, his sole attention and care focused on you. You wore his attention like a new jacket at first, getting used to its presence while appreciating its value. 

Not that you thought down of yourself, no, you were great and you knew it. What you didn’t expect was a 6’4” essentially supersoldier to make you his top priority. He doted on you like he would Spitfire, only real. Whenever someone while out stepped into your space uninvited Simon was there, politely but firmly stepping forward and shielding you from contact. Then, oh boy, was the case of the bar. 

-

It was a Friday night after a long project with your team when one member suggested going out for drinks. While you weren't a party person the chance to get out of your apartment was golden and you took it. You get up from your computer stretching and heading out of your office to go into your bedroom. As you open the door to the hall there is no sign of SImon, a text telling you he went out so you reply with your plans and head into your room to change. 

You settle for a pair of well-fitting jeans and a nice shirt tied up to show a little skin in the heat of the night. You reach for a necklace but the weight of silver around your neck stops you. You hadn't taken the ring off since Simon appeared three months ago. You debate for a moment before signing and tucking the ring under the collar of your shirt. You still hadn’t talked about it and you weren't sure how to approach it, given the ‘new existence’ thing. You leave in a pair of boots to match, leaving a note and a text for Simon and a kiss to the head of Nebula. 

-

You make it to the bar at 8, the warm evening air settling as you pull the oak door open and step into a lively atmosphere. There are groups of people mingling and you hear the roll of classic 80s that calms you. You are spotted by your team leader who waves you over with a handsome grin. The man is only a few years older than you and you find yourself smiling as you approach the group. There were 5 of you, Adam, your team lead, and the 4 separate coordinators, you included. Vivian pulls you in for a hug, 

“Hey, cutie! It’s been too long!”

You return the hug with a smile, of everyone you were the closest with her. You had gotten the job after meeting her in your undergrad and working your way up in the company. You are about to reply when the sound of a familiar voice shoots a spark down your spine. 

You can't be serious!

You reply with an agreement before your head shoots to the bar when you gape as a familiar scot is sitting.

“OH, I know right? He’s been here for a while such a sight for sore eyes!” One of the other coordinators, Mark, replies.

As if sensing your eyes Johnny fucking MacTavish turns and spots you and a grin lights up his face and before you can blink he’s getting up and moving towards you. Your coworkers turn to you in surprise as Vivian grabs your arm in excitement.

“He must like you!”

You blank at that as the Scot comes to a stop right in front of you. He gives you a real smile before tugging you into a tight hug. Vivian’s hand drops in surprise as Johnny spins you around with a laugh as if you were the best thing he’s seen all year. 

Adam seems to sense your confusion before calling out a firm “sir?”

Johnny stops and releases you, a blush lighting up your face as you feel yourself about to combust. Johnny grins and presses a hand and brings your head to his chest fondly, blue eyes flickering to Adam,

“Sorry ‘bout that haven’t seen my best friend in a hot minute.”

You pull from his chest at that, about to speak before a flittering of memories hits you in the chest. What the fuck? You remember meeting Johnny in college? Classes together, lunch, and play wrestling between deployments as he finished before you. The fondness for the character turned into a real bond as Johnny smirked at you, a possessive gleam in his eye at your realization. 

It seemed fate made your characters claim you as much as your writing made them. 

Adam and Vivian share a look before another familiar voice calls and Captain John Price appears from a door and calls a “Easy with them Sergeant”. You look past Johnny's shoulder and Price smiles at you knowingly.

More memories, your dad’s best friend, having met through your dad's service. Price opened a bar where after retirement Johnny found steady work close to home, you. There is a mist in your head and heart and you feel yourself wavering, the weight of everything bringing a look to your face. Johnny senses it and presses a kiss to your head.

“Back to work then bonnie, I’ll call ye.” 

And with that, he leaves you with a wink and you feel your mind melt. 

-

The next 30 minutes finds you surrounded by coworkers and conversation. They easily accept your explanation and fate eases you into a booth between Vivian and Mark as Adam and Jennifer sit across from you. The next few hours pass with a few drinks and laughing at memories with your coworkers. As the alcohol hits your system you lean more forward, a bold fun as you debate literary theory with Adam. He only has been nursing a glass of whisky and commits to the bit, a hand coming to yours that's gesturing. Jennifer, Mark, and Vivian share a look as you don’t pause. You had a few beers and are a little under, the inebriation loosening your inhibitions and tongue so you overlook the touch of his fingers as you settle on your theory. 

The others weren’t blind to the movement, Vivian pulled a hand to your arm as Mark announced another round of drinks. The moment breaks and you pull your hand from Adam, not thinking twice before offering to go. Adam frowns but shakes it off with a grin. 

“I’ll take a refill darlin’” You cock your head at that but nod nonetheless.

Approaching the bar you find Johnny watching you with crossed arms. You meet his eyes with a question on your lips.

“He likes you.” It’s a strong statement and you balk at it, brushing off a tingling feeling at the back of your neck. 

“Who? Adam? Johnny, he’s my team lead, that would be inappropriate. However,” you were drunk and you did have a crush on Adam when you first started working for the company. 

“He is cute I guess, but…” Johnny’s eyes sharpen then as a hand comes to you shoulder, Adam smirking at you as you jump and look up at him.

“But?” He says with a grin as he looks down at you. Johnny is about to speak when he straightens with a grin as a chest comes to your back. A deep voice speaking with a low growl,

“They are spoken for.”

Adam steps back as Simon bumps his arm off your shoulder.

“Good to see you L.T.” Johnny grins as you look up to Simon, a pleased feeling in your chest at his closeness.

“Hi Simon.” You say it affectionately, the alcohol loosening you and you lean back into his chest.

“I'll just go, see you at the table,” And with that Adam backtracks, the others glancing over the booths at you. Simon spins you around in his arms. He wears a form-fitting black shirt and jeans with his old boots. Your eyes trace his form before a hand at your chin pulls your face up.

“Good Love?” You nod into his hand as your arms wrap around him, pulling you into his muscled torso with a please hum.

“Always an affectionate drunk.” Johnny quips with a grin and the men share a look. Simon then looks to your table and the eyes of Vivian and Mark. 

“Come on sweetheart.”

“Wanna go home.” You mumble it into his chest and his heart curls, a smile pulling onto his face under the mask.

“You need to say goodbye then dove.”

You nod to his chest and pull away. He allows you a few steps before taking your hand and following you to the booth. The others look up in awe while Adam turns to his drink. 

“I'm gonna head home, it was nice seeing you all.”

“Likewise hun, let us know when you get home safe.” Vivian pats your arm with a smile to Simon, you and the man nod as the others say their goodbyes. You both depart from the table, making a pass to say bye to Johnny and Price when he pops his head out.  

Exiting out into the warm evening you breathe in a breath of fresh air. While you enjoyed going out you did eventually like coming back to the quiet. A hand comes to your back and you look up at Simon. He watches you with attentive eyes before he bends down. You’re about to question him but you are hoisted up with an unbecoming yelp. 

“Simon?”

He carries you like a princess and you are about to struggle when he takes your lips in his. The kiss is warm, the night bleeding into dancing lips as he holds you close. He parts with half-lidded eyes and yours widen when he chuckles,

“Let's go home, love.”

[liliumsabyss]

Do u have any time for a Viktor x Ftm fluff drabble? Just smth small about Ftm reader wearing something that hugs his body and he’s not sure about it but Viktors like: god/goddess.

Calls him a pretty boy n stuff <3

Pretty Boy…

FEM DNI I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Viktor(Arcane) x FTM! Reader

Drabble

Word Count: 516

Tw: Mentions of Dysphoria, Tight Clothing, Unedited, and maybe OOC Viktor

A/n: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I hope you like this! Thank you so much for requesting have a good day/night!

You had been getting ready for work in the small apartment you and your partner shared. The cold wood floorboards cracked underneath your feet as you moved to the small bathroom with your clothes in hand. Walking into the bathroom the cold tile hit you feet not caring to close the door as you changed quickly into the outfit consisting of a black turtleneck and trousers that were on the tighter side. But as you finished buttoning your trousers you looked up into the rectangular mirror hung above the faucet, your face pulled into a slight grimace as you inspected the outfit, it being very form fitting. The more you stared at it the more it made you feel what you could only describe as icky the same feeling of when someone tells you something terribly wrong thats how you felt. You were caught so much into the debate of how the outfit fitted you you barely noticed your partner who’s can softly thudded as he came into the bedroom standing at the doorway observing you as you turned your body in every direction pulling at the fabric of your clothes.

“ Love?” A voice came from behind you as you turned to see Viktor standing at the doorway directly behind you.

“ Oh Hello Vik… Did you have breakfast yet?” You say trying to sound less stressed and more cheerful however still you sounded hesitant yet still worried for Viktor considering the man was so obsessed with his work he would forget what day it was.

“ You have been pulling at that outfit for five mins.” The male comments nodding his head slightly as he speaks, taking a step forward to get closer to you, being his own way of asking you what was wrong

“ It’s just, its so form fitting and it makes me feel ughh,” You say, sliding your hand down your face frustrated with yourself as Viktor only takes another step closer putting an arm around your waist pulling you against him gently.

“ I think it suits you quite well my love,” Viktor started as you stared at him putting your arms around him in a hug as he reciprocated, giving out a slight cough as he was so touchstarved he still was not quite used to contact without initiating it first. He buried his head into your shoulder trying to mask his bashfulness.

“ How did I get such a pretty boy…” Viktor mumbles under his breath genuinely asking himself, you let out a little chuckle. The male makes you forget the outfit situation in the first place.

“ Well how did I get such a handsome man?” You quip jokingly yet still serious about the quip, The two of you stood there for a little while until you both realized you were running late. The two of you hustled towards the door and down the hallway of the apartment building all the way to the front entrance quickly saying your goodbyes but as you were walking towards your job you heard Viktor mumble something only able to make part of it out.

“ Pretty boy..”

[rumalumasuns]

What's their Signature Scent? feat. Avallum

Been an avalight since their debut hehe. I'm making this a series because I have a lot of scented things (candles, perfume sprays and oils, soaps, lotions, etc.) and so I thought it would be fun to connect them to some VTubers! Since I started this on Twitter/X due to Avallum brainrot, we're gonna start off with them, and then cover other groups later! Hope this isn't too ooc, and hope you enjoy!

Lucien Lunaris (Lucien Lunaris) - Jo Malone’s Red Roses

Luci is a very sweet person. And I don't mean sugary sweet. I'm talking soft sweet - like intimate conversations and complimenting his loved ones type of sweet. That's why this scent fits him very well.

It first smells like the pure essence of fresh red roses, showcasing his very apparent pure love and devotion to those he cherishes.

As this perfume stays on the skin, it gets more honey-lemon-like over time. The honey makes it so that the sweetness lingers, but it's warmer and more cozy, like a big bear hug. Meanwhile, the soft scent of lemon adds a subtle vibrancy or spark to the scent, analogous to Luci's playful and slightly unhinged personality masked behind his dulcet voice.

Although this scent does get more subtle over time, it's still there, like how Luci will always be there for his precious people.

Cassian Floros (Cassian Floros) - Jo Malone’s Orange Blossom

Though I was debating on whether or not Cass would fit Orange Blossom more than Nectarine and Honey from Jo Malone, he definitely is a Jo Malone scent because they do citrus soooo well.

I decided on Orange Blossom because I found that the other one was a little too sweet. I'm not saying Cass isn't sweet, I'm saying that Orange Blossom fits him more.

The freshly peeled orange scent that you can smell from the first spray is very similar to his cheerful manner as he welcomes you to his stream.

This scent later mellows out into a warmer, leafier orange, kind of like you're in an orange orchard on a mildly warm day in spring, surrounded by trees bearing lots of sweet citrus fruit. This transition matches the more calming manner he takes on at times.

Gale Galleon (Gale Galleon) - Fig & Ivy Naturals's Boozy Apple Pie

Initially, I thought of something like a tropical pina colada or a sea breeze ocean smell for Gale's scent, but then I stumbled across this perfume oil on Etsy.

Gale is a warm and friendly person, open to meeting new people and always there to hype up his genmates, even if he jokingly said he hated them a couple minutes before.

This energy is embodied by the aroma of this perfume: warm and cinnamony, like an apple pie fresh out of the oven. It's a welcoming and homey scent.

Accompanied by this are the aromas of cognac and oak. The cognac makes the scent more lively, similar to Gale's very playful and unhinged side. Meanwhile, the oak makes the scent deeper and more homogenous, much like how Gale's multidimensional personality is brought together in the person that he is.

Zander Netherbrand (Zander Netherbrand) - WolvesnWillows's Bourbon Butterscotch

After watching more of his videos, I realized that Zanny's scent is more of a gourmand scent rather than the lavender/musk scent I originally envisioned.

I decided on this due to always seeing his frequent Coffee Date Zatsus and coffee-dessert combination posts. I can definitely envision Zanny with some kind of butterscotch dessert as he's sipping his black coffee.

The perfume starts off with a strong butterscotch aroma - it's dreamy, it's decadent, and it's warm, like a bite of fresh butterscotch cake. Much like Zanny, it gives off a cozy vibe.

As this perfume stays longer on the skin, its original butterscotch smell becomes enhanced with notes of oak and subtly flirtatious cinnamon due to the bourbon component of the scent. To me, this change resembles Zanny's more relaxed, kind of flirty, kind of funny attitude.

Rosco Graves (Rosco Graves) - WolvesnWillows's Strawberry + Vanilla Bourbon

I really wish I had a raspberry scent because I feel like Rosco would fit that so well, but since I don't, I'd say this perfume is quite representative of him.

At first, it starts out as this fresh and energizing strawberry scent infused with vanilla. Imagine taking a bite out of a strawberry tanghulu: a juicy, sweet strawberry underneath a vanilla-flavored sugar crust.

My first impression of Rosco is that he's this zoomer guy with a lot of energy and a refreshing style/attitude. Despite his "tsundere" vibe (emulated by the hard vanilla crust of the tanghulu), you can tell he's a genuinely sweet person (when he wants to be lol).

The perfume later becomes a mellower, teasingly spicy bourbon-vanilla aroma, representing his more calm and earnest side (though it doesn't stop him from having some playful banter with his Roscals!).

It's finally done! Wow, I haven't worked on any fic like this in so long lol. I wish I could work on some more fics, especially my Fairytale series and my oneshots, but I'm currently in the midst of many premed things sadge :( I'll definitely finish them in due time (I especially need to put out all the WIPs I have of ppl who are graduating/have graduated LOL)

I hope yall liked this first fic of the series, there will be more to come!

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"King Killmonger: The Golden Jaguar" Chapter 15

Masterlist HERE.

"My compass does just fine on its own

So much pride, it built a second home

I, I can't hide behind me no more

I went solo and flew high (high)

No one said it would be easy or crowded

How do you stay grounded alone?

(I) I wanna be surrounded by

My design in full

Not for sale"

Rae Khalil – "Is It Worth It?"

Working in the Grand Hall of Parliament was not N'Jadaka's favorite part of the week. Luckily, he only did it twice a week. N'Jadaka always reserved mornings for the Council of Elders, with the occasional time block for citizen petitions presented to him on Tuesdays. His afternoons focused on office meetings with department heads or state visits throughout Wakanda. The rest of his calendar year juggled international travel dates to various countries for public events and private talks.

He glanced over to his right where Yani perched, all reserved and queenly. The isicholo on her head carried such a presence next to him. It had been over six years since a queen had been a part of proceedings and the room buzzed with a charge of energy that hadn't been there since he had become king. Even the giant ten-foot high iron and vibranium masks that represented each tribe looking down upon them from the walls conveyed more ancestral weight with her attendance.

The interior of the Grand Hall had an egg shape, with Yani and himself positioned at the narrow end next to the Head of Parliament known as the Mkhulu Inkokeli. A woman named Sesam of the Mining Tribe held the position for a term of five years. She took a liking to Yani's overall demeanor right away and began proceedings quickly so they could finish at a reasonable time for the queen's first day. He glanced at his wife again.

They fit.

As king and queen.

His intimidating aura and Yani's calm and collected appeal balanced the country's royal leadership. She listened with rapt attention to raised voices and assertive arguments from nobles and commoners who represented their districts with passion and acerbic wit. Wakandans were gifted orators, and each tribe had their own distinct and bombastic style of handing out public lashings to their opponents. Several times, Yani burst out laughing at a sharp retort, and her melodic voice brought out the competitiveness in the group to outshine one another to impress the queen. That afternoon presented three bills that needed approval to move forward by himself and Yani. She read the proposed bills on a comm tab in front of her and highlighted the line items she needed clarification on. Whenever he or she needed to speak to each other, or ask Sesam a question, they tapped a button on the voting console embedded in the desk to silence their mics. Yani pressed another button and everyone stopped speaking to hear her voice amplified for a general question to a politician. She mixed the Wakandan she knew with English and was relieved to know that every person in that assembly spoke and understood English. They found her attempts at the national language impressive. Umama taught her how to pause with her words and not utter "um" or other place holder words when she felt flustered searching for how to say something in Wakandan. It helped her sound more confident with the language.

Yani directed her current inquiry to a husky man with a robust personality from the Jabari Tribe.

"Inkokeli Tayo, are your concerns about expanding local tourism in your region because of ecological worries or cultural ones?" Yani asked.

Tayo turned in Yani's direction. He wore a flamboyant style of furs and fringe, and sported a 'frohawk adorned with small mollusk shells. The Jabari Tribe secured representation in parliament within the last four years and became the most ardent debaters on every bill brought before the Grand Hall meetings. Having been closed off from the rest of Wakandan society for centuries, they were still learning how to work with a collective governing body. M'Baku sat near Tayo. He'd missed the Council of Elders meeting to tend to military maneuvers in the field on N'Jadaka's behalf. The king acknowledged him with a tilt of his head.

"Queen Yani, we have preserved our lands since we severed our union with Wakanda long ago. We should be exempt from any plans to expand the reach of strangers into our lands who may not respect our values and way of life. Wakandans prefer technology over everything else and we are not equipped to handle an influx of ardent technophiles who may influence our young people in ways that go against Jabari traditions," Tayo said.

Remy pressed a button on his desk console. Sesam acknowledged him.

"The chair recognizes Inkokeli Ramatla Ntu."

Yani sucked her teeth low, but N'Jadaka clocked the agitation in the sound. Remy stood, nodded to Tayo, and looked at Yani.

"Kumkanikazi, local tourism engages our citizens in cultural exchanges that are beneficial to everyone involved. It is because the Jabarilands have been cut off from us that we seek reunification through tourism. If the Jabari Tribe are to be a part of this assembly making important decisions that affect all of Wakanda, they cannot stay aloof. With all due respect, Inkokeli Tayo, the Jabari can no longer look down at us from the sky. You must join us as a united kingdom."

Several assembly members stood up and applauded, invigorated by Remy's words cajoling the Jabari to concede. A few of the male Jabari tribal members backing Tayo's speech hooted and barked. Some people fussed back and forth with other tribes giving their opinions on Remy's call for action. Others whispered and looked toward N'Jadaka, trying to read his expression and the queen's.

Yani shifted in her seat. Her willful brown eyes peered at Remy with thoughtful consideration and then she focused her attention on Tayo using measured language.

"Inkokeli Tayo, I understand your concerns. Back where I am from, I worked for an ecotourism company that showcased our protected mangroves and sea life. Our culture relied on tourism for our livelihood. Most of our people were taught from a young age to view the tourism industry as our primary means of survival. I sometimes grew tired of people coming to our island and having everything catered to their whims because we depended on them to live. Our home became entertainment and a playground for strangers all over the world. Here in Wakanda, we are in a unique position to control the number of people permitted entry and we also don't need tourism for our survival under capitalism. I'm sure we can find a compromise that satisfies everyone here. Would you feel more comfortable if we waited on tourism in the Jabarilands until your people came up with a plan that worked better for you?"

The sweet sound of Yani's voice enchanted everyone listening. N'Jadaka kept his expression neutral, although he was beaming inside because of her eloquence, understanding, and gentle nudge of non-Jabari to ease their pressure on the mountain tribe. Tayo glanced at M'Baku. The great chief of the Jabari nodded his head.

"Yes…yes Queen Yani. We would prefer not to be included with any proposals for expanding tourism in our mountains."

Yani looked at Mkhulu Inkokeli Sesam.

"Can we table that proposed bill for now? I'm willing to help the Jabari present something different in the future when they are ready. Limited tourism stressing the importance of preserving delicate cultural ecosystems is something I have expertise in," Yani said.

Mkhulu Inkokeli Sesam seemed surprised at the offer and glanced at N'Jadaka before speaking.

"I suppose we can put that off. King N'Jadaka, do you have any objections?"

"I have none."

Sesam continued.

"How much time would you need, kumkanikazi?"

Yani tapped her kimoyo and interfaced it with her comm tab. Her personal calendar floated flat on the desk in a bright neon orange glow and she overlaid the upcoming parliament schedule on top of it, searching for an open date. She was booked and busy for months, from what he could tell.

"September 28th," Yani said. "I'll meet with Council Elder Chief M'Baku at his convenience and discuss the matter further with him and his administration."

"Very well. All in favor?" Sesam asked the entire body.

"Ewe!" the entire body replied.

N'Jadaka leaned over to her ear and whispered, "You just saved us from listening to Tayo run a long ass speech about the virtues of the Jabariland traditions since 28,000 B.C.!"

Yani tapped her calendar until she locked in her schedule. He rubbed his hand against hers and she patted his arm.

"I planned on visiting M'Baku's wife Ayomide during their Founder's Day Celebration Brunch. That would be the best time to speak to them while they're in a festive mood. The Jabarilands are beautiful and the rest of Wakanda would learn to respect and appreciate their ways if they visited in person. I loved my tour of it and there are ways to make it less stressful for their people," she said.

"And if they disagree?"

"I'll charm them," she said.

"Look at you acting all big and bad," he teased.

They watched the assembly vote on two bills before release. Several nobles rushed N'Jadaka, wanting to invite them to mid-day snacks and tea inside the dining wing on the ninth floor. Yani had never visited it before and looked enthralled by its elegant look. All government staff ate there throughout the day, and the ornate furniture and fixtures showcased the vast wealth of Wakanda.

The food and ambiance were not much different from an exclusive, top-notch restaurant. One section highlighted the best view of the sprawling skyline and the beauty of the Jabari Mountains. The sky bridge looked breathtaking connecting them to the East palace. From that angle, shielded behind smoked-glass that transitioned from light to dark on its own to offset glares from the sun, N'Jadaka admired the meticulous construction of the double citadel structure. The palace had been designed as a mighty fortress with the addition of spiky, reinforced torons that blended decorative elements to the overall architecture. At that time of day, the sunlight struck the exterior and gave off warm metallic hues of sun-baked bronze, and burnished copper with slight undertones of orange and pink. He pointed it out to Yani, and she appreciated the splendor of African creativity.

Below them were smaller, older towers with gold turrets that flanked the moat surrounding the double palace. Across from the moat were round, thatched-roof buildings that contrasted the more sophisticated structures of their civic center signaling the start of Birnin Zana's Old Town that was popular with the locals for shopping and tasty street food. The winding river valley they nestled within informed the circular city layout that housed structures along the contours of the natural environment.

N'Jadaka normally had reserved seating set aside for him with the best window view, but he often dined with officials at different tables throughout the week. The mid-day meal menu featured aromatic Bashenga Mountain coffee, tea, fruit drinks, small sandwiches, and other light dishes. Yani chose to dine with Sesam, M'Baku, Tayo, and a few other Jabari representatives at a center table that made him feel like they were gold fish being watched in the middle of a fishbowl. All eyes studied their interactions. Everyone stood when they entered and wouldn't sit down until they did.

"Good to see you again," M'Baku said, shaking N'Jadaka's hand.

Yani gave the big man a hug, and a smile broke out on his face. N'Jadaka presented his wife to Tayo formally.

"Tayo, this is my wife, Queen Yani," N'Jadaka said, reining in Yani's overly enthusiastic greetings.

She took the hint and concentrated on greeting Tayo properly, which meant no physical contact outside of handshakes, and only if she initiated. Tayo shook Yani's outstretched hand.

"Thank you for your support today," Tayo said.

N'Jadaka pulled out Yani's chair and pushed in her seat once she was comfortable. He sat next to her and the others sat down after he did. They ate a few finger sandwiches and pastries, sharing stories about their honeymoon and catching up on political gossip. Two servers carried burning coffee beans and incense in large ceramic bowls. They walked around the busy dining wing to entice more consumption with a new fresh brew's scent wafting all around them. Four more servers wandered through each section, pushing carts of desserts and hot tea steeping in pots. N'Jadaka helped himself to some bria tea and a blackberry Danish.

"Has your first day been exhausting for you yet?" M'Baku asked.

Yani looked up at the high vaulted gold ceiling and laughed. M'Baku joined her, understanding the clipped pace they all worked.

"There's a lot to take in," she said.

Sesam pointed out important players to Yani throughout the room. There were nearly ninety people in the dining wing, and Yani recognized quite a few from various public events and their wedding.

"I will have to end this little soirée," N'Jadaka said. "I have work waiting in my office."

He stood, bid farewell to people, and chaperoned Yani out of the wing. They separated in the middle of a wide hall behind a huge art installation of a giant panther about to pounce over stairs that led down to more offices. He watched her leave his side flanked by her Doras, off to handle her new office staff with plans for the Queen's Ball and her various other commitments for the people. He wanted to kiss her, but he had to follow decorum, too.

The trek back to his office was at an easy pace. He was in no rush to dig into the bullshit that probably waited for him behind the door he now stood in front of on his private floor.

Stepping inside, he nodded at all the smiling faces and headed toward the back. Tlotliso and Mpilo waited for him in front of Tlotliso's desk.

"Welcome back, kumkani," Tlotliso said, handing him a stack of mail. Mpilo grinned from ear to ear, gripping a pile of folders with papers that needed the king's signature.

"Good to be back, Tlotliso. Hold all my calls for the next hour. Mpilo, follow me," he said.

"King N'Jadaka, you are looking refreshed. How was Queen Yani's first day?"

"She did great work today. Made quite a splash on the assembly this afternoon."

"I am not surprised. Princess Shuri left a message that she will be twenty minutes late for your meeting today."

"Why? And why such a precise time? We're not touching bases until after five."

"She did not relay that information to me."

N'Jadaka swept into his inner office and it smelled of frankincense and older Wakandan spices that tickled his nose with their spicy scent.

"Hello Grandmother," he said to Queen Shuriya's painting on the wall.

He shook his arms and stretched before taking his seat behind an organized desk that already had sparkling water and more snacks ready for him for the rest of the day. Mpilo placed the folders he carried inside an inbox holder and waited for further instructions. N'Jadaka took an ornate silver letter opener and went through his mail. Invitations to speak at universities in America and Canada. A wedding invitation from a noble. Court dismissals from three lawsuits aimed to stop Wakanda from helping Black Americans at three community outreach centers. A thank-you card from a First Nations tribe in Canada for funding lawyers to pursue cases against their government. A judgment from the Wakandan Supreme court that settled a case on N'Jadaka's behalf for the murder of his father by King T'Chaka. The court would seal the document from the public. He closed his eyes. There was monetary compensation that would never be enough to replace his father or mother. But he had in legal writing that his family had been wronged and the Udaku clan took responsibility for it. He would put the billion dollar compensation in a trust for his children, including the one not born yet.

Mpilo poured him water and patiently waited for his signature on all twenty documents prepared for him. He punched in his electronic signature on Mpilo's comm tab, too.

"I'll leave you to your daily reports, sir," Mpilo said, gathering the folders again.

"Thanks."

Mpilo left and shut his office door. N'Jadaka spun around in his chair and took a break to look over his kingdom.

Queen Yani sauntered inside her new office with her back straight and head held so high that she felt twenty feet tall. An unspoken pride settled over her. She let the Grand Hall know she wasn't an ornamental display for the king. She had opinions and insight that would move the country forward, and asserting her voice early instead of later left a mark on the politicians who still considered her an outsider.

Yani's secretary/office manager, Wunmi, filled her in on her immediate schedule for the week and Yani wrangled the staff together inside her palatial office for a meeting while her brain still buzzed from the Grand Hall assembly. Her media manager, research assistant, PR officer, personal assistant, event planner, and secretary gathered seats in a semi-circle facing Yani's desk. Her staff's own assistants stood behind their chairs holding comm tabs, bringing the total number of people under her team to nine.

"I'm going to help the Jabari Tribe come up with a feasible plan to have ecotourism in their territory by spring of next year. I halted a bill that would force this on them, so now we are responsible for two things: one, convincing a very insular culture that opening up to the rest of the nation is a good thing. Two, prepare the nation in a positive way to respect the Jabari way of life. I want a campaign created that highlights the beauty and ecological importance of preserving mountain ecosystems from climate change. If we go at that angle, then I think people are willing to support a cap on the number of people that can visit there to help protect that area. Consider using commercials and bringing educators from the Jabarilands to present media segments on popular talk shows to build more rapport. Use our connections to the hottest entertainment sites in the industry."

Her staff took notes and listened.

"Next, I want my Queen's Ball to have a nighttime in nature theme," Yani looked at her event planner, "Put Jabari cuisine on the dinner and dessert menu. I want the decorations to resemble the ancient forests of Ekuqaleni up against the Jabari side of the mountains. Maybe call the theme 'A Night With the Ancestors' or something like that. I want people to walk into that gigantic ballroom and feel like they stepped back in time at the creation of Wakanda."

Yani's words lit a fire in the eyes of her staff that nodded, smiled, and gave little squeals of excitement.

"I have some other ideas, but let's start with that. We have two months to pull this theme together. The first save the date cards already went out at the beginning of the year, so I want mock-ups made of the final invitations with the theme all over it. I want those invitations to become collector's items. Beyond fancy…art pieces, hear mi now? I want to see this by next Thursday."

Everyone nodded.

"Next item. The Queen's Tea at the Zana Arboretum always has a highlighted garden flower in the decorations, so this year the flower will be the Eleyi Ti Ayaba," Yani said.

Wunmi raised her hand.

"Yes?" Yani said.

"It is lovely that you want the Purple Queen flower of the Jabarilands, for your Queen's Tea theme, but will we have enough available for the elaborate decorations? The mountain variety is so rare, and the big draw of the tea is the floral arrangements."

"This is where conservation comes in. I had the royal gardeners set up a greenhouse to grow some here four months ago, and they are working closely with the arboretum."

"So you pre-planned this before, well in advance? Brilliant!" Wunmi said.

"Yes. My daughter Joba is helping me. She is using some for her fairy garden, too. Lady Ayomide gave us seeds as a gift last New Year's. We've grown our own valley ones and we'll mix them together. The Jabari took Purple Queen flowers with them to the mountains when they left Wakanda. Speciation took place with those seeds up there creating a new variety, but its origin roots are here in the river valley. I want to make the bold statement that we're all connected. They don't want to lose their way of life, so I'll show them we appreciate who they are and won't force them to change just because we want to embrace our shared future."

Yani's personal assistant, Melele, twisted up her lips.

"Do we really think the Jabari will appreciate the queen's efforts? They are such an arrogant people," Melele grumbled.

"And we aren't arrogant, too?" Yani retorted.

Her staff laughed, and Melele grinned. Yani gauged the atmosphere of the room. Her people were ready to work.

"There are young people up in those snow-capped mountains who are ready to embrace the future of what the Jabari can become joined with us. Their elders are slowly witnessing the respect my husband gives them and how he values their views on life. Wakanda has slowly opened up to the world and we haven't fallen away from our values. The Jabari will see that. The five tribes are separate fingers on one hand, but pulled together, they become a fist. I want to give the king that fist."

She clapped her hands.

"Okay now, let's get to work. Melele, fix me a tray of libations and snacks. I need to go through my mail and a few things before my Ladies in Waiting arrive."

"Yes, ma'am."

Melele closed the office door after the staff filed out. Yani sighed and lifted her isicholo from her head and set it upon the crown stand behind her seat. Gold letter opener in hand, she went through her mail and made piles of events she would attend and those she would not. There wasn't enough time in the rest of the year to attend every party, ball, civic event, art opening, or wedding…

Yani held a peach-colored envelope made of expensive parchment closer to her face.

A special invitation.

She sliced it open and read the contents.

"Rra Mxolisi Ntu and Lady Thembeka Ntu cordially invite the King and Queen of Wakanda to the marriage of their son Ramatla Kagiso Ntu to Lady Ime Leatla Molefhe…"

Remy would marry in two weeks. Lady Thembeka must've fast-tracked the wedding to lock down Ime for her son. She wondered how much money Remy's family paid for Ime's ikhaze. N'Jadaka's family paid Aunt Leona five million American dollars for her ikhaze in place of her parents for Yani's hand in marriage. One million was for Yani, and two million for each child she birthed for the king. She had been touched that they included Sydette in the bride price.

A knock at the door brought her out of intrusive, bitter thoughts. She had been so foolish to get involved with Remy outside of the work relationship she once shared with him. Her impulsiveness and jealousy pushed her towards someone she should have kept at a distance and forgotten.

"Yes?"

"Ma'am, Lady Zola and Lady Ilana are here," Melele said.

"Send them in."

Yani stood and her girls clamored in carrying a bottle of champagne and gourmet chocolates in a fancy basket.

"What is all this?" Yani asked, accepting the gifts.

They shared hugs and cheek kisses before Yani waved for them to sit in the plush, dark leather chairs in front of her desk.

"Celebrating your first day as the Queen of the Nation!" Zola shouted.

Ilana broke out champagne flutes that were inside the basket of chocolates. She used a wine bottle opener to pop the cork, and the bubbly spilled out onto the floor.

"I'm still at work," Yani protested.

"We don't care…here, sip and eat this chocolate," Zola said, shoving the basket Yani's way.

They chatted and snacked, clinked drinking glasses while Yani shared her travels, and the way N'Jadaka pampered her. Her friends listened with glossy eyes and smiles for her adventure. Ilana leaned forward to lift another chocolate from the basket and her eyes zeroed in on the wedding invitation.

"Oh…I see the Ntu clan sent you your invitation. We received ours too. Are you going?"

Yani tapped her finger on the raised blue embossed lettering of the Ntu name.

"Should I? There are so many other parties and celebrations to go to this month."

"You must go. I mean, if you decline, it would make the Ntu clan look bad, especially when they are footing the bill and hosting the entire wedding. They would see it as a slight on their honor," Ilana said.

"If Yani goes, then Ime will feel upstaged at her own celebration. Honestly, she's damned if she decides either way," Zola quipped.

"How so?" Yani asked.

Zola licked chocolate from her fingers and sat back in her seat.

"Everyone is still talking about what happened in that restroom at the banquet last month. The chattering class of elites is well aware that Ime has made you her sworn enemy. However, she cannot do anything to harm you because of your status. But if you show up on her special day, she will think you are flaunting your power."

"Flaunting my power? How? She's marrying the man of her dreams. I'm not there to break them up or cause a scene. I was nice enough to let her come to my nuptials."

"She will not see it that way no matter how you frame it, Yani," Zola said. "You are a blight on her existence. We all saw the way Remy made cow eyes at you during the banquet fuss. She will never forgive you for seeing it firsthand. You will always remind her that she was Remy's second choice"

Ilana played with her large gold hoop earring and stared at Yani.

"Hmmm…on the other hand, if you skip the nuptials, the Ntu clan will interpret it as the king not liking them. That won't bode well for politics. The Ntu's are powerful, petty and vindictive. That could brew trouble later in the future if you and the king have ambitions that need the support of top nobles," Ilana added.

"Thanks for helping me decide. It's better to step on Ime's neck at her wedding than create tension with an influential family."

Yani took out a fountain pen with royal purple ink on it and filled out the RSVP to attend with the king. She used her own purple wax seal to close the flap of the return envelope. Tossing the RSVP into her outgoing mail bin, she clasped her fingers and rested them on her desk.

"All done."

"Good," Zola said. "It would be a terrible event without you there to suffer with us."

"Alright, our dear sweet queen, we must get going. We're having dinner with the women of the Zana Social Club, since you can't hang out tonight," Ilana said.

"I know, I'm sorry, but my schedule this week is too tight to have fun. Let's look into next week. I'll need your input for the ball anyway."

Ilana and Zola both shook their hands with excitement.

"To think there hasn't been a Queen's Ball in five years!" Ilana said.

"Stylists, tailors and jewelers are booked solid for this celebration," Zola added.

"I'm going to have a theme this year," Yani said.

"A theme?" Ilana said with wide eyes.

"I wanted to plan something different for my inaugural ball. Add some fun and excitement."

"You are the first foreign-born queen. No one wants to miss the spectacle. It's historic. Having a theme will make you so unique. Every ball we've had has been nothing but who can out-class everyone and sucking up to the king and queen," Zola said.

"You two will have to be sworn to secrecy because I've added you to my planning committee. Clear your afternoons for next Thursday and the rest of the month."

"Can you tell us the theme now?" Zola begged.

"Nope. I want your honest reaction next Thursday."

Yani hugged her Ladies and forced them to take the last of the champagne and chocolates with them. Secluded in her office, she dug into reports and had a vid chat with her co-workers at the hospital she was on leave from. She pulled up files on her computer, searched for documents, and worked quietly for two uninterrupted hours.

"Ma'am?" Melele said. She knocked on Yani's open door.

"Yes?"

"You have an unscheduled visitor."

Yani glanced at her desk calendar.

"Who…?"

Sydette bounced in with a dimpled grin.

"Hi Mama…I mean Queen Mama."

"Get over here Miss Busy Body!"

Melele closed the door, and Yani hugged her daughter.

"Why are you here by yourself?"

"My Dora is outside waiting for me. I was on my way to the family library, and I decided to see you instead. How was your day?"

Sydette sat on the chair Zola previously occupied. Yani sat next to her in front of her desk.

"My day has been busy."

"Do you feel like a queen?"

"I kinda do, Sweet Pea."

"Good."

"Where are the twins? They're usually up under you."

"They're with our cousins playing in the game room. Kora is with them. Umama allowed me to go off by myself."

Sydette's eyes flicked away.

"What's wrong?"

"Does cousin Cee Cee have to go? I don't want Morgan and Croix to leave. Not before we have the big pool party this weekend. Why did Baba kick them out of Wakanda?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Cousin Cee Cee has been screaming and arguing with Auntie Leona. Twyla even came over today. All the grown-ups on their floor have been fussing. Auntie Anika and Auntie Dawnette tried to keep everything cool, but Cee Cee thinks everybody is against her. She said that you let Baba do that to her."

"I wish she didn't act a fool in front of you kids. That's not right."

"I know no one likes her…she's mean and talks about people…but she can be a lot of fun sometimes. She thinks no one loves her and sides with you because you give everyone money."

"Baba takes care of everyone financially because we're family. Not because we want people on our side."

"Why is she so mad at you?"

Yani exhaled and rubbed the side of her temple.

"Cee Cee likes to feel like she's in control of everyone around her. She was disrespectful to me when I first met your Baba. He worked a job that she didn't think was safe for me to be around—"

"Auntie Anika said she was jealous that you had Baba."

"That is part of it, too. Cee Cee has a bad habit of ruining relationships with people. Even her own. The fathers of her children left her and its hard being a single parent raising kids alone."

"But you did it and were always nice to people. That's no excuse."

"I agree. However, your Baba…he sometimes brings out the worst in people because they either envy him or dislike his way of thinking. He saved my life…saved your life. Spoiled us with his love. He was a literal Prince Charming, and I think Cee Cee wished it had been her that he saved."

"But he did save her. Our whole family. She can do anything she wants and never have to work if she doesn't want to. Morgan and Croix go to the best school in St. Thomas. Baba promised they could go to university here in Wakanda."

"Sweet Pea, some people are never happy no matter how much they have in life."

Sydette picked at the leather on her armrest.

"Can you ask Baba to change his mind? Maybe you could talk to her about changing herself and appreciating what you both give her and my cousins."

"I don't think Cee Cee will ever change."

"She said Baba won't let her be a princess. If you make her one, it might make her feel better about herself. I can give her my title if that will help."

"It doesn't work like that, baby. The king is your father and your title is your birthright now. It's a sweet gesture, but you can't give it out to anyone else."

"Can Morgan and Croix stay? At least for the rest of the week? We want them at our party."

Yani's heart hurt. She wanted Cee Cee gone from them, but her child still had love in her heart for such a problematic and hateful person.

"Sweet Pea…Cee Cee has hurt me for a long time. She tried to keep you and me away from Baba every chance she got. She even told my parents that Baba was an evil person."

Sydette's eyes grew as large as plums.

"She did that? But it's not true."

"It doesn't matter to her, as long as he was gone from our lives. Sometimes you have to cut off blood to save the rest of the family."

"I understand. I can't believe we have someone like that in our family."

"Baba wants her gone tonight. But I will talk to him about changing the date until after your party."

"I feel sorry for my cousins having a mother like that."

Sydette climbed off the chair and hugged Yani.

"I'm glad that I have you for my Mama," Sydette said, squeezing Yani's shoulders.

Sydette pulled back from Yani.

"Can you come with me to talk to Baba? Ask him about Morgan and Croix now?"

The pleading quality in her voice tugged at Yani's heartstrings.

"Okay. I will," Yani said.

She stood and reached for her isicholo, placing it on her head again. Checking her desk for unfinished tasks, she turned off her computer and filed away papers for the next day. Clasping Sydette's hand, she guided her daughter out from her inner office. She let Melele know she was leaving to see about a family matter. Yani's security team and Sydette's lone Dora followed them to an escalator. They rode up to another floor and entered a secured elevator to N'Jadaka's floor.

The king's dynamic staff hustled about and paused when Yani entered with Sydette.

"Queen Yani," Tlotliso said. She stepped from behind her desk to personally greet them.

"Is he busy right now? Princess Sydette would like to speak to her father."

Tlotliso tapped the intercom on her desk.

"King N'Jadaka, Queen Yani is here to see you with Princess Sydette."

Tlotliso beckoned for Yani to go right in. Mpilo walked past them with a comm tab.

"Queen Yani…Princess Sydette."

He dashed to his own desk, checking his daily planner.

"No worries, Mpilo. You didn't miss an appointment," Yani reassured.

Relieved, Mpilo escorted them to N'Jadaka's closed door and left them. Sydette turned the knob, and they stepped in quietly in case he was on a call.

"Hey, you two. What's going on? Were we supposed to do something I forgot about?"

N'Jadaka watched them from his desk. He had a neon yellow floating grid hovering to the left of his desk with images of several documents.

Yani waved her hand for Sydette to sit down, and she did the same.

"We're here to talk about a decision you made this morning," Yani said.

An eyebrow raised on his face.

"What would that be?"

Yani looked at Sydette, then turned her eyes back on her husband.

"Cee Cee leaving tonight. Today, Sydette witnessed the family fighting about it and came to my office to ask that Cee Cee be allowed to stay until the end of the week so that Croix and Morgan can go to the pool party."

N'Jadaka rubbed his forehead and stared at his daughter.

"I'm sure your mother explained how we feel about Cee Cee's behavior toward us?" he said.

"Yes, Baba. I don't want my younger cousins to be excluded from all the fun this weekend. Can they please stay until Sunday?"

"I already have the Royal Scorpion Fighter ready to take them after dinner. Cee Cee doesn't belong here with us."

His voice sounded firm. Sydette's lip trembled.

"I don't want my cousins to be punished because of her. Can they stay with us…with Auntie Leona until she goes back to the Virgin Islands?"

N'Jadaka glanced at Yani. It was hard saying no to their children. Sydette wiped at her eyes.

"They're good kids, Baba. They can't help who their mother is."

"Cee Cee won't let her children stay here without her, Sweet Pea. I think it's great that you're speaking up for them…I like them a lot…"

His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with Yani. She shrugged, not entirely against them staying for the rest of the week. They both didn't want to be the bad guy. N'Jadaka folded his hands on his desk.

"I'll call Aunt Leona and tell her that Cee Cee and the boys can stay through Sunday. Your mother and I will talk about keeping Croix and Morgan with Leona until she returns to the compound. Okay?"

"Thank you!"

Sydette jumped out of her seat and rushed to her father. She hugged him tight, and he kissed her forehead.

"Can I go tell the boys?" Sydette asked.

"Go on," he said.

"Bye Mama!" Sydette shouted, running out of the office.

N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo beads. Leona's upper body floated above his wrist.

"N'Jadaka," Leona said in a weary voice.

Yani moved next to her husband.

"Hi Auntie. We heard about today from Sydette," Yani said.

"It has been a mess of a day."

"Auntie," N'Jadaka said, "I'm going to let Cee Cee and the boys stay through Sunday. We want the boys to enjoy the pool party with their cousins. I apologize for the strain we put on you."

Leona nodded and Twyla came into the frame next to her aunt.

"I say keep the boys and send her home," Twyla said.

"It will make things worse," Leona said with an exasperated sting to her tone.

"If the boys stay, she'll think she can wiggle herself in for an extended visit afterward as if the king's order was moot," Twyla said.

"I don't understand that gyal's mind," Leona said, brushing a gray curl from her forehead. "N'Jadaka gives her everything for nothing in return, and she still wants people to kiss her backside."

"That's the problem. Big Man gives her things she doesn't deserve. I say cut her off. Kick her out of the compound," Twyla said.

"What about her boys? We can't treat them poorly."

"I'll take them from her. Keep them with me and Bibi and raise them here in Wakanda. N'Jadaka, can you grant me guardianship of Morgan and Croix?" Twyla said.

"You can't steal her pickney from her," Leona said.

"Then you do it Auntie. Everyone in the family won't go against you. We trust your judgment and if you say Cee Cee's unfit to care for her children because of her nasty spirit, they'll put pressure on her."

"I won't separate a mother from her children if she's not abusive."

Twyla sucked her teeth and stared at Yani.

"After the pool party, I'll go back home with Cee Cee," Leona said.

"Auntie, there's no reason for you to leave early," N'Jadaka insisted.

"It's the only way to keep peace in the Galiber family. I'll go back and give her an ultimatum. She has to improve her behavior…or I'll kick her out of the compound. She'll have to work and find employment on her own while taking care of her boys. I won't babysit them for her anymore. Once she's reminded that N'Jadaka provides our comfortable life, she'll shape up for good. I'll charge her rent for living in the middle house on the compound. It'll be her wake up."

"She'll never change," Twyla said.

"Where is she now?" Yani asked.

"With Uncle Fritz and Aunt Myrah. They went shopping to keep her out of the palace for a few hours before her departure," Twyla said.

"So that's the plan," N'Jadaka said. "They will stay until Sunday and she's cut off financially from the royal stipend. I'll give her monthly allowance to you Leona to provide for Croix and Morgan instead."

"I just want to forget this day and start over tomorrow," Leona lamented.

"I'll come see you tonight, Auntie, and make up for it," Yani said.

"No, you must be with your husband after your first day."

"Who will tell that cow foot she's here until Sunday?" Twyla asked.

N'Jadaka ended the call.

"I made things worse, huh?" N'Jadaka asked.

Yani linked her arm around the hard muscle of his arm and rested her head against his shoulder.

"You did what needed to be done. Coming from you directly takes heat off of my back. No one can blame me if my husband sets his foot down. Back then you were the boogeyman, but now…you're a king and the most powerful man in the world. Everyone will take our side and push Cee Cee to do right."

"I think we can head out now. I'm done for the day. Tomorrow will be easier. Council of Elders meeting in the morning and then we can go straight to our offices."

He placed a warm hand over hers clutching his arm.

"Are you sure you can take on working with the Jabari Tribe on top of all the other responsibilities you have? I can assign someone else that task at the assembly."

"I want to do it. I have some things in the works that will solve everything."

"Everything?"

"Trust me."

The hard pounding of a knock on the door caught them off guard.

N'Jadaka answered it. Tlotliso wore a grim expression.

"Kumkani… you must see this," Tlotliso said.

They followed her out to join N'Jadaka's media team inside a conference room. Several vid screens flashed different global news channels on the walls. Tlotliso pointed their attention to a center screen that showed a reporter standing outside of the Wakandan Supreme Court. She crossed her arms and looked at both royals.

"The Supreme Court finally reached a verdict on the Ozipho/Phuri case. All defendants will receive life imprisonment. Sita's testimony sealed their fate. It took four years but we finally have justice," Tlotliso said.

His Press Secretary, Xhanti, typed on her comm tab, then stared at the king.

"The press is expecting a statement at the top of the hour, sir," Xhanti said.

Xhanti continued scrolling her comm tab, and tossed back the thick auburn twists of her hair.

"I'll go shower and change in my office. I'll meet you in the lobby within twenty minutes," N'Jadaka said.

Xhanti nodded and the rest of his media team observed other channels and reactions to the news. Yani walked with N'Jadaka back to his office. She lounged on his office couch while he refreshed and groomed his beard. He returned wearing a long white tunic and sat on his executive chair. Yani braided his damp hair back and tucked it into a bun at the nape. He stood and she looked him over carefully, making sure nothing was out of place.

"Should I change too?" Yani asked.

"No, you look perfect. You'll stand next to me as I address the press."

"When will you kill Agent Ross? He's the cause of all this turmoil and death the Phuri brought."

"Next year, after I'm done using him for intel. His ex wife has the C.I.A. up our ass and Ramonda will get close to her soon enough. I'll kill him and the Americans will never know what happened."

"Won't the Americans suspect you?"

Yani brushed a tiny piece of hair from his right shoulder.

"They will suspect HYDRA."

He titled her chin and kissed her lips.

"Welcome to the underbelly of running a country, baby."

She reached up and held his face.

"I support you all the way."

He ran his hands down her shoulders and lowered his gaze to their hands clasped together.

"I have something to talk to you about later."

"We have a few minutes, tell me now."

"Another important case closed today. One that was filed while I was in cryostasis on my behalf. The Udaku clan…T'Chaka… was found liable for the murder of my father. I was awarded monetary compensation that I will put into a trust for our children. Its one billion dollars. I'm going to file paperwork with our family lawyer tomorrow to name you as the Trustee if anything ever happens to me. Grandpop and Leona will be next in line to control it if anything happens to you. I'll put Shuri and Twyla on the documents too. I want to talk about the age we want them to have access to it in the future."

Yani parted her lips and flicked her eyes to the wall behind him.

One billion dollars.

She hadn't been knocked out by an amount like that since he had left her the compound and money to care for her and their children when he thought he would never see them again.

"N'Jadaka…that's so much."

"No amount can bring my father back, but the family wants to make sure the money makes a statement to me. The court has sealed the details to outsiders. Sita made the lawsuit happen on my father's behalf. She's also responsible for putting the Phuri terrorists away."

"We should reward her."

He shook his head.

"She's not the type to take money when it comes to justice. But I will make sure she and her daughter live well for the rest of their lives."

Yani hugged him tight.

"You always give so much to people and never take anything for yourself."

"I have plenty already."

Yani held onto his hand as they met Xhanti and the rest of the media team in the lobby.

"Here's some bullet points about the case. I pulled up the information about civilian compensation. It's best if you put off questions about civil cases against the Phuri," Xhanti said.

They crowded into an elevator and rode down to the Press Room. A make-up artist powdered the shine on N'Jadaka's face for the camera lights and touched up Yani's make-up. Xhanti sent over the key details to be loaded onto a teleprompter and the royal couple waited in front of a podium for the camera light to flash red for the live broadcast.

Reporters and photographers crowded in front of the podium with a crushing wave of expectant energy. Yani's stomach tumbled and N'Jadaka touched her hand hidden behind the podium. Member's of the king's cabinet created a semi-circle behind him and Yani's nerves eased once the Council of Elders joined them to their left side.

Xhanti stood next to the teleprompter and the king checked the bullet points for clarity. A minute later, the main camera light turned red.

N'Jadaka faced the nation.

"My fellow Wakandans, after four long years, justice has finally prevailed today…"

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@tchallasbabymama

@lahuttor

@goodieyaya

@post-woke

@soufcakmistress

@yomiloo

@goddessofthundathighs

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@retroxvailles

@cydneyrenee4

@nizzle-mo

@cecereads209

@childishgambinaax

@gopaperless

@bombshellbre95

@tchallasbabymama

@musicisme333

@sister-winter73

@nccu-rnc

@sj206260358

@blmcd57110

@griot-of-wakanda

@xsweetdellzx

@nayaesworld

@carlakeks

[luzxii]

hear me out

Blorbo Swap AU - Expanded

01. ROLESWAPS

( my present blorbo swap )

Skiddad > Rick

Rick > Dexter

Dexter > Skiddad

( past + secondary blorbo swap )

Streber > Patty

Patty > Lila

Radford > Bob

Bob > Radford

Lila > Streber

( anti blorbo / disliked char (plus Kevin I really don't hate him he's cool I just say I do for the meme- and jaune I don't hate her just some of her annoys me- and I only hate costume guy because he gives 'r/ nice guys' energy ) swap )

Costume guy > Jaune

Jaune > Kevin

Kevin > Costume Guy

Little guy / gal swaps

Skid > Hope

Hope > Skid

The other characters either keep their canon roles or are altered / swapped to fit the stories of the other characters (i.e John being dead in this AU)

02. CHARACTER INFO

Dexter Erotoph & Patty

The adoptive father of Hope and husband of Patty, after John's "mysterious death" he took her in. He runs a cult that kills rats, bats and cats (and the occasional person), wearing a mask the shape of a rat head. After Patty found out he was in the cult, she accidentally killed him by pushing him down the attic stairway; snapping his neck. He haunts an old doll in the attic, moving gradually or having its eyes follow Hope around the room. Patty is an architect who's somewhat neglectful of Hope due to her grieving, but eventually will realize her faults.

Skid's Dad & Lila

After the untimely death of their son, Skid, Skid's dad became extremely depressed. He now works at an astrology themed gift shop, he doesn't quit his job like rick but is as apathetic and gets himself into similar situations. Lila coped by starting a haunted house to entertain children, she thought that if her own son is gone; she may as well be there for other children. She loses her arm the same way Streber does in canon, she's a lot more sassy and stubborn in this au. I'm debating whether skiddad and Lila are still married, but they do at least both geninually care for/love eachother unlike canon Skiddad.

Rick Hedony & Radford

Rick is a murderer who avoids being caught by job hopping. He is eventually killed by Moloch and possesses the body of a sad guy doll. He's got Dexter's anger issues and kooky nature but is more blunt and less openly crazy then Dexter (at least before he died). Radford is a murderer/cannibal who is most inspired by famous horror movies for his kills and aesthetic. He is even more slasher villian core then Bob. He's got Radford's upbeat nature but in context comes off a lot more malicious and threatening.

ANYWAYS I can't go into all of the characters rn but if there's one you want to hear about please ask any questions you have or suggest chars to get a lore dump on!

@mayisgoingnuts @clownazon @bulldog-geckorahhhhh @crossover-enthusiast @sunny6677

[ultimateloserboy]

i said i would make this post, so here i am. here is the red guy analysis, starting with this qna answer from baker terry. i talked about this question before, it was “whos your favorite to write for?” and after a bit of debate the answer ended up being red guy for pretty much everyone. i mentioned that, but i left out this answer specifically because of how significant it is. im gonna go on a bit of a tangent here, but i promise itll come back around and make sense

this is what ive been saying about red guy!! hes been going through a constant character arc that never reaches its completion because he is torn down again and again. “hes sensible and together until he isnt” is such a good description, because he might be the MOST normal character but he isnt truly normal. not really. thats very important.

i think red guy is a realistic character, a very human character, and the thing about people is that we’re not as normal as we think. there are differences about all of us that don’t quite fit, and some of us moreso than others, but that is the true normal. true normal is to not be normal. that is what red guy represents to me. we relate to him and think he is sensible because he is, but that doesnt mean hes free of oddness altogether. thats what makes him even more relatable.

but he doesnt realize this, hes riddled with insecurity, and THATS what makes him the way he is. he doesnt quite fit anywhere. hes out of place in his own world, and hes out of place in every other world as well. he doesnt enjoy the house, and he tries to run, but even when he runs he doesnt like what he finds outside. he’ll never find a place where he perfectly fits. he’ll try, but he’ll fail.

but thats another thing. because he doesnt fit anywhere as he is, he usually tries to fit in instead. the characters around him (the fax machine thingy, the trash can, lily and todney) they all tell him that theres something wrong with him and the way he lives, that he could be better, that all he has to do is listen to them and he’ll be normal and respected. and so he does. he listens to them and tries his best to be happy with it. hell tell himself that hes normal and everyone loves him now. that weird people are below him, that nothing is wrong with him because hes perfect. he wont believe it, he’ll be unhappy playing pretend, but at least hes better than everyone else now. at least hes the most normal one. at least hes normal, right?

but then he’ll end up back home, and things will go differently tomorrow. there could be a day where hes waltzing around in clothes, masking who he is and pretending to like it. but then there could be a day where hes coming to terms, where he looks in the mirror and he doesnt care much what others think anymore. where he’ll say “im not supposed to wear clothes, this is the way i look” finally sticking up for himself. he’ll start being kinder, to others and himself. he’ll start being more honest, more open, more loving. he’ll still be as average and monotone as ever, but he’ll be slightly different. he’ll be happier with himself as he is, he’ll ACTUALLY like himself instead of just pretending.

but happiness doesn’t last in a house like theirs. his memory loss will rip away at the realizations he has. he’ll go right back to being bitter and miserable. i dont believe the house is in a timeloop, i hate that theory with a burning passion, but thats besides the point. timeloop or not, he’ll be built up, and then the next day he’ll be knocked back down. he never reaches a point where hes fully happy and i doubt he ever will. i doubt any of them ever will. it makes me so sad, but at least he gets close enough.

in conclusion, duck and yellow guy are very nonsensical and complicated characters, but red guy is too, just in a calmer and more easy-to-understand sense. just because hes the regular, human kind of complicated does not mean he isnt worth analyzing. i wish people would see him as more complex instead of just “relatable depressed tumblr sexyman” like if yall paid attention youd realize that yes, he pulls off the suit, but hes miserable in it. it’s literally him masking. i wish people paid more attention to these things. no shame if you dont, hes supposed to be a more chilled out character compared to the other two, so its natural that people wouldnt think as hard about him. but hes not as smart and reasonable as yall give him credit for, he is until he isnt.

or, if we want to go with the gayer conclusion:

hes YOUR babygirl because hes hot in a suit, but hes MY babygirl because he thinks electricity is magic. because hes an embarrassment to everyone around him. because he doesnt like wasting food or making a mess. because all he wants is a family, and he already has one, but its not normal or functional enough for him. because he smiles more often than everyone thinks. because hes actually kind of an asshole but duck outshines him in that department. because hes selfish and yet he dislikes himself. because he is complicated in the most human way, with a little bit of an inhuman thought here and there. because i am in love with him im just going insane now i need to shut this shit down. ive gotten my point across. goodbye, i love you ! (leaves you a spherical internet device which i created)

[accidentalmistress]

Accidental Mistress - Beneath the Mask

I believe someone ordered an Oraion sickfic?

(For more Accidental Mistress content, check out the Master Post.)

Please do not reblog to non kink blogs, minors DNI.

Title: Beneath the Mask

Word Count: 2,407

Content and Warnings: male snz, non-human snz, sickfic

In which Oraion's claim that "demons do not get sick" comes conspicuously into question.

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

When Oraion began having prolonged fits of harsh coughing, Noelle knew something was amiss. It had only been a few days since he’d made love to her while she was still sick with fever. He'd sworn up and down that demons could not fall ill, yet the young witch had her doubts. After all, hadn’t he also spent the greater part of his life, thousands of years by his claim, without so much as a single sneeze? Yet, as soon as the contract between them was forged, he’d been bestowed with the most sensitive nose Noelle had ever had the pleasure of knowing, all in the name of better equipping the incubus to satisfy his Mistress's unique sexual appetites.

Yesterday he'd locked himself in his room and refused to see her. Even her knock upon his door went unanswered. Earlier, Oraion had been adamant that she not enter the room under any circumstances. Now the silence from therein worried her, and Noelle struggled between her fear of upsetting the demon and her concern for his well-being.

Concern won out in the end, and Noelle placed her hand upon the doorknob. She focused her will and reached out into the ambient magical energy that surrounded her and suffused all things: mana. This was her tower, her sanctum, and as its Master she demanded that nothing remain closed to her. Under her fingers she felt a soft click as the lock came undone. Funny that the lessons Oraion had given her in magic were now the key to breaking into his room. With a steadying breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open.

“Oraion? I know you said not to come in, but you didn't answer when I knocked, so… I got worried.”

Still no answer, but at least now she could hear him breathing. Perhaps he was only deeply asleep.

There was no light in the room, only the illumination from the doorway. Noelle crept inside with careful steps. If he was resting she didn't necessarily want to wake him, but even laying eyes on him would do much to ease her mind. The crimson-tufted tip of his tail twitched as it hung over the foot of the bed, poking out from beneath the covers. He'd gathered a massive pile of cushions and blankets in the middle of the bed, like a nest.

She approached the head of the bed and heard his breathing more clearly, labored and wheezing. He was completely under the blankets, somewhere within the nest of cushions. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that her Servant was sick. She wanted to chide him for trying to hide it, but that would make her a hypocrite: she had done the exact same when she first fell ill.

Noelle anxiously tucked an errant chestnut curl behind her ear as she debated whether or not to call out to him again. If he was sick, he needed rest, but surely there was something she could do for him? He’d taken such wonderful care of her while she was sick. How could she not now wish to return the favor?

“Um, Oraion? Are you awake? I… I'm sorry for not doing as you asked, but I only want to help you. You don't need to be embarrassed—”

The blankets shifted as he stirred. A horned head rose out of the covers… and kept rising. Noelle's eyes widened behind her glasses as a lengthy neck appeared, covered in flowing, crimson fur. The face bore an equine snout covered in gray scales, almost draconic in appearance. Long fangs protruded from the lips. Red eyes blinked blearily at her, glowing faintly in the darkened room. On either side of its head the curling horns swept back, covered in spiky ridges and joined by a third horn erupting from the center of its forehead.

Noelle took a half step back. There wasn't a pile of cushions in the bed at all—that was the creature's body. As the blankets fell back she could just make out the shoulders, wings folded against its sides. The mane of thick, red fur ran down its chest, but its sides and legs bore the same gray scales as its face. Expecting claws, she was surprised to find that its legs ended in silvery, cloven hooves.

This creature… it had to be…

“Oraion?”

“I thought I told you to stay out.”

His voice was the same but rougher, more resonant in his much larger body.

“I-I know. I'm sorry, I just… What's happened to you?”

Those glowing eyes pierced her. Instead of answering he snorted, jets of white steam billowing from his nostrils. Noelle jumped, unable to suppress it, but she held her ground.

“Oraion, please. I-I don't understand. What's going on?”

“Leave.”

She swallowed, hard.

“No.”

“I said: get out.”

Noelle flinched. Oraion never used that tone with her. Was he trying to scare her off so she would leave him be? Or was he genuinely angry with her for finding him like this? He had a right to that anger, she supposed, but she could no more ignore his condition and leave than she could sprout wings of her own and fly out the window. Noelle took a step closer to the bed and balled her hands into trembling fists.

“I-I'm not going to leave until you tell me what's going on! I am your Mistress—you're mine, remember? A-and that means… it- it means that I'm responsible for you!”

Another moment of tense silence, and then he sighed and lowered his great head back down onto the bed.

“I am weak. I cannot hold my… the form that you're used to.”

“Then this is… your true form?”

He didn't answer right away.

“In a sense.”

He closed his eyes and resumed his labored breathing, then his maned chest spasmed with wet-sounding coughs.

“Oh, Oraion…”

She sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and gestured at the lamp on the bedside table, willing the flame to life. Oraion groaned as warm light filled the room.

“Nnnnh, must you?”

“Oh, I-I'm sorry, does the light hurt your eyes?”

“No… I just…” He sighed again, horse-like ears drooping. “I'm hideous.”

“That's not true.”

“Hmph. You were frightened of me.”

“I was surprised more than anything. Why did you never tell me?”

“As I said: hideous.”

“Oh, stop that. You are not.” She gingerly touched his scaled forehead, brows furrowing when she felt the heat there. “You're burning up. You really are sick, aren't you?”

“I told you, demons don't get s-sick.”

Another wave of coughs hit him, and then his sides heaved, nares flaring.

“h-hih- HIHHSSSHHHU!”

The entire bed shuddered, and Noelle flinched aside as more steam blasted from Oraion's snout. The rims of his nostrils were pink and raw, slick with a sheen of mess running down the sides of his muzzle. Dried encrustation clung to his scales—he'd clearly been suffering in this form for some time already.

“Gods, you poor thing. Just hold on: I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Noelle dashed from the room and quickly returned with several clean cloths and a bowl of cool water. She wasn't sure what demon-beast mucus would do to her cloth napkins, but this wasn't the time to be precious and clearly a handkerchief was not going to be enough. She took one in both hands and draped it over the end of Oraion's reptilian snout.

“Okay, blow for me.”

He blinked.

“Eh?”

“Blow your nose.”

He continued to stare at her. It was difficult to tell with the scales, but she thought he might be blushing.

“You can't really do it yourself, can you? You've got hooves!”

Reluctantly, he did as she asked, and, after going through a couple of the cloths, his breathing sounded a bit clearer. Noelle dampened another cloth in the bowl and set about gently cleaning the dried mess from his nostrils.

“Nnhh- That tih- tickles! Careful! I- heh! Gonna- hih- hi'hehh!”

Thankfully she'd brought a large bundle of the cloths: she pressed a clean one over his nose just in time to catch another powerful, wet sneeze. The force of his head nearly knocked her backwards.

“Goodness. I guess even in this form you're still pretty sensitive, huh?”

“-snndf- Seems that way…”

Noelle settled for cleaning up the sides of his muzzle and leaving his poor, irritated nares alone for the moment. She soaked one more cloth in cool water and laid it over his forehead, just below the center horn, as she sat down next to him once again and started stroking his neck.

“I don't think you're ugly at all. You're almost like a dragon in this form.” She looked down at his legs. “I've never seen a dragon with hooves, though.”

He briefly lifted a foreleg. “Well, demons are supposed to have hooves, aren’t they?”

The sardonic note that crept into his voice made him sound a bit more like himself.

Noelle smirked. “I suppose… Do all incubi actually look something like draconic horses, then?”

He was silent for a few moments, and Noelle wondered if she'd said something to offend him. At last he spoke, his gaze focused on something far away, something she suspected only he could see.

“Would you believe it if I said I was not born a demon?”

“‘Not born’…? You mean, you used to be something else?”

He gave a weak nod.

“It's not the usual way of things. Most demons do begin their lives as such. Some are born as you might expect, but many simply coalesce from the energy of the Demon Realm. They can be born of conflict and bloodshed, of powerful emotions, or even from pure chaos. Occasionally, however, a demon is transformed from some other sort of creature entirely. You're aware of fallen angels, I'm sure.”

Noelle nodded and waited for him to continue.

“Long ago, in another life… I was a servant of Celestia.”

“An angel?”

“No… No, not an angel, although I did serve at the pleasure of the gods. More like… a divine beast, you might say. I had a duty to punish the wicked, to correct injustices. To humans I was a symbol of peace and good fortune. To the gods I was one of their most powerful champions, with strength that rivaled their own.”

“Then… Can I ask what happened?”

His sides heaved, this time with a great sigh, and for a moment Noelle thought he might not answer. Then he spoke, his voice quiet and strained.

“I failed in my duties. I defied the will of the gods for my own selfish reasons. I could have prevented calamity, but… I didn’t. And this is my punishment. The gods cast me out. I fell from grace, becoming this… thing. A demon, a half-breed, a monster. My divine power was stripped away, my form twisted into a mockery of the splendor I once possessed… So, yes, this is my true form, in that this body is what remains of me—my curse for my transgressions.”

“Oh, Oraion, I… I'm so sorry… I-I don’t know what else to say, except… that I’m here for you.”

She leaned into him, placing her arms around his neck, plunging her hands deep into his long, silky fur. She heard a rumble in his chest, almost like a cat’s purr.

“Thank you… I hope you’ll forgive me for being so maudlin. It all happened aeons ago, and I truly have come to accept what I am now. As I said, at this point it's become another life to me, like it happened to someone else. Someone who doesn't exist anymore.”

He turned his head slightly towards her, and, though it was difficult to tell with the snout, Noelle thought she saw a slight smile on his face.

“I'm in a much better place now.”

Noelle snuggled closer to him, burying her face in his fur. There was something different about the way he smelled, and yet it was somehow familiar.

“Mmm… You smell nice.”

She heard him chuckle, a pleasant vibration against her cheek.

“That’s a surprise. I can’t smell a damned thing right now, but I assumed I must smell like a barn.”

Noelle shook her head, breathing deep.

“No, no. You smell like… the rain. Like a thunderstorm. Something else, too… Something sweet… Cherries, maybe?”

Oraion shifted. “Yes, all right. You- You can stop sniffing me.”

With a grin, Noelle rubbed her face in his fur even more and began scratching his neck with her fingers.

“Oh, that’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

He started to giggle, his sides quivering. “Hey! S-stop that! It tickles!”

She almost kept at it but decided she didn’t want to push her luck and risk getting kicked by those hooves.

“Okay, okay. But I do like the way you smell.”

“Duly n-noted—” Several coughs cut him off, and guilt stabbed Noelle in the gut.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have made you laugh like that…”

“N-no, no,” he managed between coughs, “I needed it. A bit of coughing is a price I’ll gladly pay to laugh with you. I missed being with you. I… I’m sorry I hid this from you.”

“Did you really think that this would come between us, after all we’ve been through together? Especially—” He cheeks flushed. “Especially after the other night.”

“No, it’s not that. Well, perhaps it was at first, but now… It’s because I know you have such a kind heart, my dear Mistress. I didn’t want to worry or upset you. I didn’t want you to… pity me.” He snorted with a rueful chuckle. “Too late for that, I suppose. I am in quite the- the pitiable s-state- eh-heh! HEHHTSSHEW!”

Noelle stroked his mane. “Oh, my poor Servant…”

“See? -snndff- That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not pitying you; I care about you. There’s a difference.”

“Ha. Sure.”

Noelle pulled her legs up onto the bed and settled into the crook of Oraion’s long neck. She stayed there, running her fingers through his silky fur and chatting the afternoon away, until he fell asleep again, his sides rising and falling in a soothing rhythm. With a gesture she doused the light, and the young witch soon followed, lulled to sleep by the warmth and steady breathing of her demonic Servant, content to again be by his side regardless of whatever form he may take.