#the poor sad lion man

[hoperays-song]

This is awesome!!!! I love it!!!

NEW VIDEO RAAAAAAAAAH

Been sittin on this bad boy since the start of June!!!! I was worried I didn't do enough editing but I think it's great now haha!!!

I hope y'all enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed makin it!

[mysicklove]

Summary: four-year-old Yuuji didnt mean to bring up Mr. Gojos crush on you, which of course, leads to Sukuna's harsh teasing.

cw: fem! reader (reader gets referred to as girl, pretty, and mommy), curse words, suggestive language, lion king spoilers (lol)

wc: 1.8k

a/n: i love making sukuna an absolute menace. poor yuuji tho. i think i am going to introduce gojo as a character, because I think it would be entertaining to piss Sukuna off lol.

big brother au masterlist

“Su-kuna!”

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Language,” You scold, not peering up from your book. Yuuji lays sprawled out on top of the both of you – his head in your lap, and practically purring in content when you gently pet the top of his head, while his little legs are on Sukuna’s thighs. 

Yuuji giggles into your shirt, shaking his head mischeviously. “Bad word Su-kuna!”

In an instant, you feel the toddler being ripped away from your lap with a tiny screech. The noise startles you, and you perk up from your book to look to where the boy has gone to. But, you aren't surprised to see him dangling in the air by his ankle – Sukuna’s long fingers skillfully hold onto Yuujis chubby little leg tight enough to not drop him, but gently enough to not cause physical harm. 

The boy doesn't seem to mind this position, being in it so frequently. Giggles and squeals leave the toddler's mouth as he stares at his now upside down brother. “You learning how to speak correctly?”

Yuuji nods his head, and his hands try to reach for Sukunas shirt. You rest your head on the man's shoulder, chuckling at the boy who was squirming in the air. “Uh-huh! F-Fush-i-guro taught me!” The dark haired toddlers last name was hard to pronounce, and it was amusing watching how Yuuji sounded it out.

Sukuna makes a loud groaning noise and you cover your mouth to hold back another laugh. “Of course you made friends with Gojo’s new brat. First he hits on my girl, and now his new kid is gonna manipulate this idiot.” He shakes Yuuji in the air to demonstrate his point, ignoring the squeals. 

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just because Megumi taught Yuuji how to say your name correctly, doesn't mean the kid is manipulating him. Y’know Yuuji struggles with words sometimes.” You watch as the child in turn shakes his head in defiance, letting out a “Nu-uh!” that only makes you smile. You turn back over to your lover, kissing his cheek. “Aw, does it make you sad that our little Yuuji is growing up?”

“No,” he quickly rebuttals, “Brat isnt growing up fast enough. I am mad that you're not denying the fact that the white haired idiot is flirting with you.” You know that wasn't the full truth, but alas, Sukuna was extremely stubborn and would never admit that he didn't want his brother to grow up. 

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo thinks you are pretty!” Yuuji announces, beaming at you from the air. You hold back a wince, smiling awkwardly back at the innocent words of the toddler. You watch as the boys cheeks begin to flush from all the blood rushing to his head, and immediately as if sensing it, Sukuna flips over the boy and instead places him on his lap, holding onto the back of his neck.

The action makes you smile, noticing the thumb that rubs gently at the pale skin. But when you glance at Sukuna, you notice quickly that he was anything but happy. Sukunas dark eyes twitches, flickering to you, and he speaks between his teeth. “Did he now? I may need to have a talk with Mr. Gojo next time I pick the little pest up. Does Fushiguro say anything else?”  

“Sukuna,” you whine, realising that the hold on the boys neck was not out of affection – instead was used to trap the boy while he was questioned. “Y’know Gojo is alot. He just wants to–”

“Fush-i-guro says Mr. Gojo has a crush on Y/N!”

“Yuuji!” 

“B-But, Y/N has a crush on brother,” the boy concludes, furrowing his eyebrows with a small nod. “Right, Ku–um–Su-kuna?” He turns up to his brother, doe eyed with his head slightly cocked to the side in question. 

In response, Sukuna ruffles his hair, nearly sending the boy landing on his back. But, instead he giggles at the rough treatment, shutting his eyes and trying his best to stay upward. “The biggest crush. You make sure to tell the little brat that. Or else Mr. Gojo is going to try take her away.”

Your eyes widen and you push at his broad shoulders. “Sukuna! You're going to get him all worked up!” You exclaim, knowing the very sensitive (regarding you or Sukuna) child very well by now. You turn to the boy, whose own eyes widen as he trying to process the words. “Gojo is not trying to take me away.”

“He is going to take her away if you don't do anything, and little Megumi is going to have a new mommy.” Sukuna was grinning at the boy, as if his brother's fearful expression pleased him. You knew that he was being purposely dramatic – Gojo wasn't even technically Megumi's father, if there was a chance that you guys would ever get together (near zero) you would definitely not be the boy's new mom. But alas, Sukuna continues on with his words. “Thats why whenever you see the two of them talking you have to make sure you to scream as loud as possible.”

You cover the mans mouth before you he can spewl any more nonsense, but it was too late. Yuuji was already tearing himself from the man's lap and into yours – his lips begin to wobble and his eyes flood with tears. “Is-um-is that what you two talk about when I am with Mr. Nanami,” he warbles, thinking back to the multitude of times he has held onto his preschool teachers hand and watched you smile at the white haired man. 

“No, love,” you reassure, turning your attention instead from scolding your lover to consoling the child. “Sukuna is being mean again. Don't listen to him. Mr. Gojo and I are friends.” You ignore the look that Sukuna shoots you, showing how displeased he is at the idea of you being friends with his least favorite person. 

The boy sniffles, wiping his little fists on his face. “I-I dont want you to be Fush-i-guro’s mommy. You have to stay with me and Kuna! P-Please?” He doesn't even attempt to say his brother's name correctly, forgetting how he started the conversation all together. He was focused on trying not to cry, because his brother was sure to tease him, but it wasn't working out very well.

You kiss at his chubby cheeks, shaking your head with an exasperated look on your face, wondering how the hell you got to this conversation. “I am not, promise. I'm not going anywhere. Even if your brother is the worst, brattiest, malicious person alive, I have kinda grown attached to him. Besides, if I left who would I have movie nights with?”

“I am not a–” You shoot Sukuna a nasty glare, and he in return lets out an astonished laugh, but shrugs without care.

Your words make Yuuji perk up from your lap, and his eyes widen with glee. “You like movie nights too?” He was always begging for the three of you to watch movies together, but Sukuna always denies him considering it would end up being a cheesy Disney movie that Yuuji would fall asleep not even twenty minutes into.

“I love movie nights. Do you want to have one tonight?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sukuna butts in, and you spare him a glance. “Babe, we have plans tonight, remember?” He tilts his head to the side suggestively and you roll your eyes at him.

“Not anymore. Me and Yuuji are going to watch…”

“Human Earthworm 2!” The boy interjects, completely forgetting about his previous experiences with the movie, not good ones.

You poke at his cheeks, shaking your head. “I was thinking The Lion King.” 

“Yes!”

“No,” Sukuna groans, covering his eyes with his palm.

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “No? Why are you putting your input in? You're not watching it with us.”

Sukuna, never have been told this before, looks appalled. “The fuck you mean?”

“Bad word!” Yuuji points to him in accusation, but Sukuna just ignores him.

You cock your head to the side, a sly grin pulling at your face. “You're not invited.”

“Why not?”

The two of you make eye contact for a long second, and after a moment or two, Sukuna sighs. “You're really mad about that?” You don't say anything, just continuing to stare at him. “Okay fuck–Yes that is a curse word, astute observation you brat. I am sorry for making the kid cry again.”

“And?”

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, but you hold your ground. Then, he turns to the boy with a sigh. “Dont scream when you see Gojo and Y/N talk, alright?” He jabs his finger into the boys chest and Yuuji nods his head rapidly in understanding. But, a foxish grin pulls at the mans face and he says, “Instead…The moment you hear him talk to her, you bite his leg.”

He barks a laugh at the confused face of his brother, but when he looks up to you, the smile falters. “Okay, c’mon it was a jo–”

You point your finger to the door. “Couch.”

“You can't kick me out of my own room!”

You don't move your finger. Yuuji glances at you, cocks his head to the side, and then mimicks your action. “Couch!”

The three of you go silent for a long minute, and at this point the boy's hand begins to tremble from holding his hand out for too long. Eventually when Sukuna realizes that there was no point of reasoning, he lets out a dramatic sigh, before crawling out of bed. 

When he notices your smug smile, he flips you off and you can't help but laugh at that. “I am coming back after the movie is done, ya hear?”

“If Yuuji does not fall asleep,” You tease in return, knowing the boy well, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. 

His eyes flicker to the boy who was snuggling up to your chest, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie in. Sukuna chuckles to himself, opening up the door, before turning back to the kid one last time. “Hey brat,” he calls.

“Hm?” 

“The father lion–Mufasa. He is my favorite character, so you'll bound to like him a lot. In fact, I sure do wonder if you'll get attached,” he muses, and your eyes widen when you realize what he is saying. Anything that is linked with Sukuna, Yuuji immediately falls in love with. This was bound to cause hysteria. “Enjoy the movie guys! Y/N have fun!” He calls, before shutting the door.

You pause for a moment, sighing into your hand. “Kuna likes the father lion? I want to see!”

You tried everything to avoid turning on the movie after that. But Yuuji, like his brother, was stubborn, and he desperately wanted to see the lion. He grew attached very quickly in that short period of time.

Deep laughs rumble through the house when Yuuji begins to sob over the animated lion's death. You lock the door, and Sukuna stays the night on the couch. 

[irishmammonagenda]

Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.

post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)

"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."

"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.

Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.

"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.

"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle

"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.

Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"

"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."

"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."

"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."

You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."

You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."

He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.

Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.

After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.

In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.

One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.

You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.

Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk

Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....

No fucking way.

Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.

After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.

You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.

Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.

You grabbed a crayon and began to write.

WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha

"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.

"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."

"Yessir."

You were a master conspiracy theorist.

In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.

You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.

You know, the usual.

You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.

Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.

You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'

Michael opens the doors.

You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.

Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.

Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.

Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."

You shake your head.

"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"

You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.

Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.

Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.

Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.

Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.

Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.

When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.

"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.

"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.

"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.

Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.

L.

You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.

"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."

Oh shit.

"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.

Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"

Shit.

"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.

This was getting awkward.

"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.

"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.

You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.

When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."

Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"

Michael clears his throat awkwardly.

You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."

Michael nods aggressively.

Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.

"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"

At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"

Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.

Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.

"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."

"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.

A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.

The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.

You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!

Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.

You almost cackled.

Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.

Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"

You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."

You are such a good liar.

"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'

After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.

He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,

"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.

You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"

Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.

"..MC?.."

You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"

You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.

Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.

Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."

You hug him just as tightly.

But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"

"Yes, my dove?"

"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"

"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."

You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."

Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"

"Try again in another century dear."

The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.

Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"

In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."

A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.

Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.

Time to run away.

As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.

Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)

In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.

Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.

Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)

His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.

He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.

You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.

"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"

Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."

Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"

Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.

Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.

"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"

You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.

It was on.

Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!

In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.

He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.

Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.

You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)

Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.

"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.

Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.

You however know what you should do now.

Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.

You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.

It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.

On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)

After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.

Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.

It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.

When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.

Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.

As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.

You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.

Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.

"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.

"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."

"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.

After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.

Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.

As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.

You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.

"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.

He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."

You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.

You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.

"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.

"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.

"Of course."

After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.

A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.

A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.

Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"

Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"

Luke nods and gets up dutifully.

As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.

"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.

"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.

"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.

When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.

Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."

"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....

....for now.

You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.

Your list was now as follows:

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.

After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.

Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.

After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.

You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."

Bastard.

Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"

"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."

Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.

"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."

Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"

"Hmm?"

His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."

You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.

Bastard.

On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.

´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.

Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.

You fucking caught them.

No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.

So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.

"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."

From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.

"Of course it's our best one yet!"

You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.

Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.

You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)

Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:

it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.

note on their chests just in case.

Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.

Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.

Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally

Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.

As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.

As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.

"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"

"Hi!"

Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.

"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.

"I did. I just came back as an angel."

"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."

You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.

"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."

He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.

"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."

"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.

Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.

Levi it was!

You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.

When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.

After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.

You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.

House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie

It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!

As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.

It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.

He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.

He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.

"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"

"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.

It was a nice night.

Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.

Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.

Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.

Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?

You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.

In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)

You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."

"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.

And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.

Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.

Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.

Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.

This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊

also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious

[littlelightfish]

We alredy know what's Chilchuck's worst nightmare. What if I told you that it was canon?

His daughters have alredy been eaten. His wife was eaten too. His family are all dead. His worst nightmare has come truth. And he for sure feels like it's partially his fault, because it's the Winged Lion doing, yes, but who helped Laios get here? Chilchuck. And who's daughters and wife are now dead because of it? Chilchuck's. The suggestion of recreating them tells us that they've alredy been eaten. The way he says it makes it feel like it's too late. They're dead. Because of him. Of his actions. Of his job. The irony of it all is actually quite cruel. He makes a union so he can prevent bad things to happen to his race, to his family, and then, and he works at the union. And now, because of his job, he got them all killed.

He doesn't even know how his daughters are until way later, I don't even know if in the manga they send letters to him during the feast, because I know they don't go to said feast. So Chilchuck doesn't know if his girls are alright until, again, way later. We know they don't die because, well, there's this comic of them going to meet Laios, the new king. But if not for that, who could tell us they didn't die on the monster appearances? I can imagine that after the feast Chil went stright to check on them. Because he loves his daughters, and he cares for his wife. He sucks at communicating it, yes, but he does.

He doesn't want to risk his family's safety. But he, unknowingly, unwillingly, indirectly, did. He got them eaten by those demons because he helped his friends achieve his goal. Because he cared about Falin and wanted her to be human again. Because he cared about Laios and didn'twanted to see him loose his sister. Because he cared about Marcille, Senshi and Itsuzumi. He cares so much about everyone and wants to help everyone (in his own way), that he doesn't think that the result would, inevitably so, be the worst outcome for him. The one in wich work and private life get mixed together. His job as a member of Laios's party ended dragging his family in, despite his best efforts. His job ended up, not only endangering the whole word with demons, but his family. His four precious girls. It ended up almost killing them (probably it killed them for some time because getting eaten by those demons works wierd).

Worst part? He didn't have the time to be mourn over what he 100% sure thought was the complete loss of his family. He was in a hurry to survive himself, so he pushed those sad feelings and tried his best to help who he had left. Later on he finds out that the demons spitted out people. And he seems shocked with some kind of surprised relief.

He looks how everyone that got eaten was alive. And he can't quite either believe it nor understand it. He is really confused. So they didn't die? Are my daughters ok? Is my wife ok? Did everybody survived? Are they alive? He dares to hope that they're all ok and pulls into a box his feelings again, saving it up for when he has the time to be overwhelmed about this all. He has a feast, trying not to worry, but worried sick. Then he goes home and checks on them.

Give this poor man a break and a beer...

[wolf-tail]

Since I'm far more comfortable being weird on 40k tumblr than I used to be, I'm gonna say some unhinged things.

Now that you've all been thoroughly warned, I'm thinking about which Primarchs would be the best or worst to deal with if they got pregnant:

Lion-You do not know he is pregnant. He would preffer it that way. He seems crankier, meaner, more reclusive, amd just a bit rounder, but you don't know about it until he winces and slinks off during a meeting, then returns a few hours later with babby in tow. No one is allowed to touch or even look at babby for at least a week.

Guilliman-He's doing pretty ok, but very anxious. Lots of body aches, but you have a hell of a time trying to convince him to ease off the work and rest. You often find him fast asleep on top of his desk. Constantly craving olives. Overall not too bad.

Horus-VERY proud papa-to-be. Constantly showing off his big ol belly and bragging about how knocked up he is. He has a canonical breeding kink, he's wearing every embarrassing maternity t-shirt he can find. Mortifying ordeal, but could be way worse.

Konrad-OH GOD, whoever impregnated this man, answer for your fucking crimes. Anyone who so much as breathes too loud in his vicinity is a skinless splatter on the pavement. Mercifully, he doesn't seem to want to leave his room. Just avoid him as much as possible and you might survive.

Sanguinius-Glowing, positively GLOWING! He's vibrant, elegant, happy, the type of thing people tell you being pregnant is like to try and convince you to have kids. Happy to let anyone rub his tummy. (Would he even give live birth or just lay an egg?) He's eepy, so very sleeby eepy. He just wants to nap. That just serves to make it cuter. The only issue is that in the later weeks he starts going broody. That will not be a fun time.

Fulgrim- Also an idealistic glowing beauty, but probably is a struggling a lot more than he lets on. You just know he's nauseous as hell and his feet hurt like a bitch. Give him a foot rub , he deserves it. Has a bunch of super long baby names picked out, Definitely rearranged the nursery seventeen times at least because it's "not good enough". And the second fact that thing comes out the womb it's dripped tf out. Little fuck is leaving the hospital in a Dior onesie. Fulgrim insists on doing his makeup before leaving the maternity ward, because he refuses to look as worn out as he is. Let this poor man REST.

Ferrus-Oof. I don't know much about him, but he strikes me as the type to have body image issues. Baby has a normal ass name like "John" or smth. When it's born he's scared to hold it with his metal hands, but bub doesn't care, falls right asleep in them.

Perturabo-ABORTION. He has no time for kids. But in the chance he does keep it, he's even more cranky and insufferable than ever. Yells at his own belly bc MiniPerty is kicking him while he's trying to work. Sending u prayers🙏

Dorn-Hmmm, idkkkk. I have not read enough about him. Dorn fans answer this one for me. But from what I do know he'd have a hard time describing as his complicated emotions about it. Would swaddle the Dornling in his grandpa's blanket.

Angron-OH FUCCKKKKKKK. You thought Konrad was bad!? The sad part is, all of the parts of him that want and love the baby are being punished for it by the nails. But can you fucking imagine a pregnant hormonal Angron!? The galaxy shakes in fear. The second sperm met egg, Khorne shifted uncomforably upon the Skull Throne.

Magnus-He's having a great time! Studying every parenting book he can find (TAKE NOTES EMPS!), getting cool belly tattoos, doing mysterious pregnancy rituals, psychically communicating with MiniMagnus once they're developed enough. Has a BIG belly, sometimes hard to maneuver. Probably twins. Sons always happy to give it a lil rub when he walks last. Often found lounging in his tower, lazily talking to bubby while reading, go ahead and give him a back massage.

Mortarion- As much as I think he'd look cute with a baby, I don't think he was ever at any point in his life healthy enough to carry one to term. Isha, fix his uterus, he needs to be a daddy immediately. If he was miraculously to get preggers, he'd definitely be cranky, but not overwhelmingly so. He'd love the kid, but occasionally pat his tummy and gently admonish it for being such a little nuisance.

Corax- Drawing a total blank here. Raven guardies tell me plz. But he might go broody too, goes with the bird theming.

The Khan- Continues riding his bike until he's physically too big to do so. You can't even try to stop him. Little Jag is travelling at Mach Fuck You every day. Labor is 5 seconds long, and as soon as the kid's delivered he's strapping it to his chest and getting right back in the saddle.

Vulkan-Biggest cuddlebug EVER!!! Joyous and glowing, always up for a belly rub. You just know his ass is 8 months pregnant and still in the forge, working on little practice weapons for his lil Salamander. His water will probaby break and he'll beg you to let him quench a sword in his own amniotic fluid (don't, that's gross) Prone to hot flashes, get him a nice cold drink plz.

Lorgar-A baby is joyous blessing! He's insanely happy about it, going on about how his body was "chosen to bring forth a wondrous being". Touching the tum is a religious experience. Gets a new tattoo to celebrate, if he can find the room.

Alpharius/Omegon: You either have no idea which one's pregnant, or they all somehow get pregnant at once. Twins are a guarantee either way.

[moodymisty]

Recently read Devastation of Baal and Lion, Son of the Forest, the idea of Sanguinius’s wife returned similar to how Lion just…woke up.

Somewhat based off the idea your fic of where Guilliman sees her in the glass coffin, except she’s alive, like how Guilliman was in his pod. Perhaps the Blood Angels posted to guard her are absolutely flabbergasted upon seeing her awake and moving about, weakly and slowly mind you, the poor woman hasn’t moved in 10,000 years. News would spread of her awakening through the Legion, Guilliman would of course rush to see her since he last saw her in the pod. Lion is…Lion about it or is happy in his own way. But most joyful would probably be Dante.

This poor man would be in tears, of joy and sadness. The Mother Angel has returned, he’d be having an audience with her constantly, confessing failures, doubts, wishing for death, or even mentioning that Sanguinius came to him in a vision. I picture her kind holding Dante during this, like his big ole head against her smaller form, like a mother comforting a child.

oh she would absolutely want to just give Dante a hug. He's been through so much and much him him probably reminds her of sanguinius, like how they both will run themselves ragged no matter the cost to themselves.

I'm sure Guilliman and Dante and even Lion would enjoy having someone outside of the astartes military structure to talk to that also understands, given her unique position.

[mays-simping-for-leona]

Milk for the lion cub!

I want to try writing fluff for once, not romantic, but AAFGAAAAAADGFSWAAA SOOO CUTEEEE😭😭i cannnnttt ⏤͟͟͞͞★

characters:

leona kingscholar, fem!reader, you and leona' newborn here called yon and i will put him as a male ⏤͟͟͞͞★

information:

scenario, sfw, fluff, father leona, soft leona, sad a bit, so cute that you will feel the urge to get yourself a baby ⏤͟͟͞͞★

prompt:

leona found himself in front of a big challenge, How will he take care of his cub when he is a new father?⏤͟͟͞͞★

⏤͟͟͞͞★enjoy!

note: I HC that Leona's mother died shortly after birth or during childbirth because he didn't talk about his mother when he was asked in his birthday interview about his family, so i will put this in the scenario

"shh.." leona tried to whisper in yon's ear, He slowly paced back and forth into the dark room and carefully shakes the little cub, trying to put him to sleep

Today you were very tired and in poor health due to childbirth. You were so tired that you did not wake up even when Yon started crying. but leona' sensitive ear caught the noise and he immediately woke up

now, leona who is your lovely partner, of course won't wake you up. he decided that he will take care of yon, he wanted to do something for his cub and help you, so he didn't find a better chance

It may seem strange that Leona suddenly decided to leave the comfortable bed and take care of the cub, but this man is unexpected.. This is his child, and the strong bond he feels towards him is not to be underestimated. leona just feels the urge to give this child the care he needs from his father — not wanting to be shitty like his own father did to him

but of course, things are not easy. leona found himself trying to figure out the reason for yon's crying, maybe the baby is just baby-ing? or he feel hungry? or he feels pain?? Leona gently carried Yon in his strong arms as he felt Yon's small body. Leona's palm was twice as big as Yon's head, wich made leona smile gently..realizing how cute yon is, how small and fragile he is, leona just melts and feel the need to protect and take care of his baby..

Leona put Yon's head on his shoulder, took the small baby' quilt with him and covered Yon as he gently rubbed his back, walking outside the suite

Leona walked with light and slow steps through the rooms and corridors of the palace. He was tired and sleepy, but the warm feeling of his son on his shoulder gradually calming him down to sleep made him forget all his exhaustion and focus on the little one in his arms

Leona was able to calm the baby down now. But Yon was still moaning audibly on Leona's shoulder, rubbing his mouth against his shoulder and trying to suck. Leona quickly stopped when he felt this and picked up Yon, looking at him with dilated pupils

Yon cried again, and Yon now realized that the cub was hungry. When Leona finally understood what the problem was, he felt an instinct inside him awaken: My cub is hungry, I have to feed him

"are you hungry, little one?.." he said in a soft tone, rubbing the cub's back and giving a gentle kiss to his forehead "your father will mess things up..but i will try" Leona changed his course and headed to the palace kitchen in a hurry, but he was still careful and carried the cub well so that he would not fall from him

He entered the kitchen, closed the door behind him, and started looking around. He only needed hot water, milk powder, and nursing bottle, right?

NO

Leona froze when he realized that he doesn't even know where all these things were. He did not know where the baby bottle was, nor the milk powder, nor anything else he might need to prepare the milk

"oho..i didn't know making milk was that hard.." Leona whispered and sighed in annoyance, walked to the counter and put the quilt on the corner and placed Yon on it, making him comfortable on the counter

Leona leaned forward, put his index finger in Yon's hand, and began to kiss his ears and head, frowning slightly "I know you don't understand a word I'm saying, but you should know that the milk will be delayed. Are you ready to wait?"

"wooahh" yon let a loud cry

"oh man, yeah i know it is bad, but what should i do?" Leona smiled gently and rubbed his head slightly with Yon's chunky body, then he lifted his head and looked at yon's chubby cheeks "do you know how much i'm resisting the urge to just bite you? dude, thank god your mama told me it's dangerous to kiss or bite newborns on their face" leona stepped back and his ears flickered, tail swishing behind him with a wide smile on his face "alright, be a good cub and don't move too much..the last thing i want now is you falling from the counter. i will make a very delicious milk for you that you will cry for another bottle, and you will be a good boy and stop messing around, deal?"

"wooahh"

"i will take it as a yes" leona turned around and looked at the many doors he need to search in "...work smarter, not harder"

Leona simply used magic and began to open all the drawers at once and take out all the items from them. Everything was floating in the air in front of him and Leona began to walk through the items as he searched for what he needed

nursing bottle

milk powder

kettle

Small saucepan

thank god he used his magic because he found everything he needed in 5 minutes. He put everything back in place using magic again and started preparing milk for Yon

He searched the Internet for how to prepare milk for newborns and followed all the necessary steps to prepare it, Leona found that preparing the milk was very easy: the only annoying part was checking the temperature of the milk, but he got over that

Leona turned to the little one excitedly, smiling and shaking the milk "my boy, ready for the milk your father made for you with all love? You have to be prepared because you will hate your mother's milk after this bottle" Leona picked up Yon and put him on his shoulder again

"but for real, Don't hate your mother's milk, it's healthier for you.. I would let you breastfeed from her if she was awake" Leona stopped in his tracks and stared at Yon "man, why i'm talking like you understand what i say? i feel crazy, but you are such a good listener" Leona laughed sarcastically at himself — talking to a cub that doesn't understand what you say is fun actually, Leona enjoyed it all

He left the kitchen with the little boy and headed straight to the bedroom balcony. He entered quietly and was careful not to wake you. He tiptoed to the balcony while pulling the bedside crib with him

finally, he sat on the bean bag sofa outside with the crib in front of him. He put Yon in his lap and started feeding him

Everything was quiet, no sound, no disturbance, no lights but the moonlight, only the gentle sound of the wind moving the tree branches, the crickets hiding in the grass and rocks in the distance...Yon stopped crying too and began to drink the milk hungrily

Leona threw his head back from time to time and returned to look at his son at other times, relaxed and with a slight smile on his face, watching the little mouth drink the milk. He was holding Yon’s hand and caressing his fingers with his thumb..looking carefully at him, his eyes softened more than before, thinking about how small and fragile this cub is...remembering his own childhood

"i can't understand how they didn't love me when i was so small and innocent like this.." was all he said to himself before tightening his grip on the bottle "i don't remember any good memory with my father..or anyone from my family..i didn't feel any love or bond with your grandpa, Yon.." Leona said with almost broken tone, talking slowly and gently

"but you know what? i'm not heartless, maybe i'm tough..but not like them..i will love you and let you remember me as the good father, i won't be the best..but i'm trying, for you.." Leona put the bottle aside when Yon finished feeding, he lifted Yon and put his forehead to Yon's

"Why am I telling you all this and you don't understand me?..Because I won't be able to say this when you grow up, I don't know..It's just difficult..How can I have a normal relationship with you when I can barely say "I love you" to your mama?..I don't know how to express my feelings.. This bothers me a lot. Sometimes I say to your mother things in my native language and she doesn’t understand either, but I flirt with her and tell her how much I love her.. but she doesn’t understand. I want her to understand and at the same time i don't..i feel conflicted..maybe i should stop this nonsense"

"woah" Yon made some baby noises in response, making leona realize again that Yon doesn't get anything leona says. he chuckled, leaning back against the sofa

"Yon..I don't know any lullaby, don't expect me to sing for you..Your grandma died years ago and never had the chance to sing for me" Leona spoke in a broken tone this time. He looked sad...but he placed Yon in his crib and began to gently shake it, covering Yon well with the quilt

Leona closed his eyes and began to immerse himself in the disturbing thoughts that had been haunting him for years. He was very tired... tired of thinking. Every time he hugged the cub, or kissed him, or fed him, or carried him, or even looked at him with love... he asked himself...

"How come my family didn't feel the same about me?"

This question kept haunting him, even if he was born by mistake...even if he was just a mistake, no one would be so merciless..

While Leona was delving deeper into these damned thoughts, his train of thought was interrupted by a voice that reassured his heart and made it beat, a voice that was like tender melodies to his ears

"leona?" you called his name, Standing at the balcony door with a surprised expression

Leona quickly opened his eyes and turned to you. He quickly forgot all the bad things he thought about, and his tail widely wagged behind him "darling.." he smiled warmly, happy to see you

"what are you doing?.." You approached, and when you saw the empty milk bottle and the sleeping cub that Leona was rocking in the crib, you smiled broadly and affectionately "dear..you did all this?"

"yes, i did" leona said, looking at Yon sleeping "He was crying but you didn't wake up so I decided to take care of him myse-"

Leona was interrupted by a gentle kiss on the lips from you, Leona looked at you in astonishment while you sat next to him, looking at him with eyes full of love and emotions "i knew i didn't choose the wrong man" You grabbed his face and gently pulled him in to give him more kisses while stroking his hair

leona immediately fell for it, he didn't resist..he actually needed the kisses desperately after the overthinking session, Leona kissed you back lovingly and you two stayed like that for about 5 minutes

you pulled back first, looking at leona who was a bit..vulnerable, he seemed soft..In fact, ever since Leona entered the room, you woke up and were watching him, hearing everything he said to Yon in the balcony. your heart skipped a beat and you knew leona needed your love and affection at this time, and you decided to play your role well and take care of your husband just as he did for you

"let's go to the bedroom, Yon is already asleep" You pulled Leona to stand and walk with you to the bedroom. Leona got up and pulled Yon's crib inside with him

You lay down on the bed, opened your arms, and smiled at Leona tenderly, offering your embrace to him "come here, babe.."

Did Leona fight it? Not at all. Only a second passed and Leona was resting his head on your chest as he hugged you, his entire weight on top of you. you hugged him back, stroking his hair and kissing his ears

"You look like a real father, Leona" you said, his ears flickered and he lift his head slightly to look at you "what?"

"you heard me, leona" you kissed his forehead, rubbing his back "I am proud of you. You have overcome your father’s bad treatment of you and are trying to build a good relationship with our son and take care of him. I am truly proud of you"

silence..leona was just staring at you, his eyes wide open and expressions even softer than before. his ears dropped to his head and he lowered his head slowly

You didn't understand what exactly was going through his mind, but you knew that you said the thing that Leona wanted to hear so badly, so you said it again "I am proud of you, Leona. I am happy that you are the father of my child. I am sure that you will never disappoint me or our cub. I have high expectations for our relationship together as a family in the future..and it is all because of you" Your hug for Leona grew stronger "Don't think too much about bad things. You will start now from the beginning and your happy life has begun now. I look forward to seeing you care more about our son"

Leona nuzzled his head in your neck and shoulders, rubbing his face with your body and smelling you..you did the same, you know how good leona feels with physical touch so you nuzzled you head in his hair and shoulder as well..giving him light, affectionate pats on his back

You could feel Leona's smile on your shoulder. His heart, which was beating madly against your chest, was trembling slightly. You knew here that you had achieved your goal and Leona felt the happiness and comfort he needed

But will you stop here? Of course not

Gently, you placed your lips near his ear and began to sing him a lullaby in a gentle, low voice

In a large distant field

I found my little cub

He was shivering from the cold

So I warmed him in my arms~

He looked at me with that little face

Smiling and his face shining

I carried him with me to the sky

Together we danced above the clouds

We laughed and played~

And there we found that river

We walked over it like a carpet

The light of his little face was reflected

On the mirror of the water~

My little cub finally fell asleep

Under the bright moonlight

(i wrote this lullaby in my native language as poetry, but it is horrible in english i'm sorry)

When you finished singing, you started playing with Leona's hair and paused for a while, waiting for him to react or for him to say something..But you froze when you felt wetness on your shoulder

Gently, you moved your head slightly to look at Leona's face, but he had his face turned to the other side so you couldn't see him

You knew he didn't want you to see his tears

you sighed..giving your husband one last kiss on his head before you close your eyes to sleep

"darling" you heard leona say, and you brought your attention back to him

"yes, babe?"

"i love you" he said in almost a whisper

your eyes widened in shock..but you immediately tightened your embrace around leona's body and smiled widely, your heart melting "say it again.."

"..i love you, y/n"

"i love you too, babe.." you hugged each other and leona slept on top of you that night

and with that, Leona would wake up every night to help you take care of Yon..

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FLUFF BUT I COULDN'T HOLD MYSELF BACK FROM WRITING SHITTY DEPRESSING THINGS, DON'T FORGIVE ME ⏤͟͟͞͞★

⏤͟͟͞͞★thanks for reading!

[thebat-musicman]

The Playlist™

My 12 hour Batfam playlist (with repeating songs!)

The repeating version has 200 songs and is 12 hours. Non repeating has 167 songs and is 9 hours and 54 minutes.

I am so sorry to whatever poor souls are reading this just trying to find good songs for their faves

@batfambrainrotbeloved it’s done

The bat-playlist from hell is under the cut

Alfred

Be our guest

Let it be

Sweet caroline

You are my sunshine

God is really real

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

50 ways to say goodbye (him faking Bruce’s death when he went training)

What was I made for

No time to die

James Bond theme

I got you

Child of Mine

Little Lion man

You’ll be in my heart

Never grow up

Edelweiss

Baby mine

Friend like me

My heart will go on

Bruce

Never grow up

Everything has changed

I hate it here

I look in people’s windows

imgonnagetyouback

Karma (AJR)

Humpty Dumpty

Inertia

Two birds

Cat’s in the cradle

Song for Orphans

Tears in heaven

Heart of stone

Robin

Whatever it takes

ocean eyes

Migraine

I’ll make a man out of you

Under the Sea

Beautiful Boy (darling boy)

Babs

The story of us

Just a girl

Clara Bow

Role Models

Break my face

The DJ is crying for help

Little miss perfect

She used to be mine

Mastermind

Pretty distraction

So high school

How did it end

Fight song

You should see me in a crown

The man

Runs the world (girls)

I bet you think about me

Inertia

Ours

Part of your world

Dick

I can do it with a broken heart

Touchy feely fool

Never grow up

The Bolter

Surface Pressure

You’re on your own, kid

Because of you

Karma (AJR)

Way less sad

Perfect (simple plan)

Father of mine

This is me trying

Count on me

The Greatest Show

No way

Mr. Perfectly fine

Dancing Queen

Show and Tell

How far I’ll go

Used to be young

Cass

Who’s afraid of little old me

Cassandra

The Albatross

Father of mine

You’re on your own, kid

Heart of stone

Fight song

Everybody wants to rule the world

She used to be mine

Family Line

Because of you

Roar

You should see me in a crown

I won’t

When will my life begin

The prophecy

I hate it here

Speechless

I’ve got a dream

Blackbird

Jason

The Prophecy

Mr. Perfectly fine

Better than Revenge

I did something bad

My tears ricochet

Vigilante shit

You’re gonna go far, kid

Time of dying

Deja vu

good 4 u

Because of you

Father of mine

These boots were made for walking

Fuck you

One way or another

Bang! Pow! Boom!

Be prepared

One jump ahead

Vampire

I think I’m gonna like it here (baby jason needs a song)

Steph

Record Player

Turning out Pt. II

The Dumb Song

Just a girl

Cardigan

The Man

But daddy I love him

the manuscript

Guilty as Sin?

Father of mine

Dead!

Teenagers

You’re on your own, kid

Mr. Perfectly Fine

High school sweethearts

Drama Club

My Play

Devil Town

This is love (air traffic controller)

I won’t say (I’m in love)

Tim

Ur gonna wish u believed me

Yes I’m a mess

Karma (AJR)

Mastermind

Don’t blame me

Fool

Wow, I’m not crazy

Humpty Dumpty

Good 4 u

Pretender (Acoustic)

Mister Cellophane

Come hang out

Let the games begin

Heart of stone

brutal

Deja vu

Every breath you take

The sound of silence

Go the distance

Viva La Vida

Duke

Here comes the sun

Walking on sunshine

I see the light

How do I say goodbye

The Prophecy

Turning out

Sunshine lollipops and rainbows

Teenagers

Our song

Demons

I’m still standing

Waiting on a miracle

I’m not famous

Paper rings

We didn’t start the fire

Everybody dies

What was I made for

I’ll follow the sun

Sunflower

Into the Unknown

Damian

Insane

Oh no!

Surface Pressure

Control

The good part

Role models

Mother knows best

Bad guy

What else can I do

Devil Town

Bones

Rät

Maniac

Losing my religion

(Don’t fear) The Reaper

Heathens

Pumped up kicks

Go the distance

A whole new world

I just can’t wait to be king

[rom-e-o]

A Moment of Weakness (Emmrich/OC)💚F!Rook

The game isn't even out. We don't know Emmrich's personality, VA, ... really, anything beyond the bare bones as I write this ... but I couldn't help myself! I hope this little story is enjoyable, despite inaccuracies, haha!

TW: alcohol mention/mild tipsy behavior.

It had started with a simple sentence, but one that Emmrich immediately realized was shrouded in complex sentiment.

Hours before, Belisma (“Rook”, as she was affectionately called) had knocked on the door to his study and invited him to share a drink with him. More specifically, she had wanted to toast a successfully long day of battles and negotiations by imbibing together at the Lighthouse, a base that was unnerving as it was beautiful. She had even surprised him with a dusty bottle of red imported right from Nevarra. It carried the region’s distinct fruity notes; a stark contrast to the stench of death and semi-permanent haze of stale incense the region was known for.

Perhaps that was why such bottles were so coveted. Even he, with all his knowledge and history of the reason, carried not the knowledge of a versed sommelier. He did know, however, that the drink was strong.

The drink had boosted their spirits quickly, and loosened lips even more so.

Moments before, he'd been laughing amicably at an amusing anecdote she'd told him about an awkward encounter with a former suitor. Quite the crude young man, from what the woman had described. Hardly someone suitable for a woman like her, he'd thought.

Then, she’d let the sentence slip.

"I’m glad I can be useful here … I’m more suited for the battlefield than a quiet life anyway.” Then, she added, "Could you imagine … me, with a husband waiting for me back home? What poor soul could I do that to?”

Emmrich, dressed casually in a starched shirt and trousers (but still adorned in his rings and jangling bangles), paused to flick his gaze at present company.

"What?"

With a little hiccup, she allowed herself to sink against the weight of the table. "It's amusing, isn't it?"

"What is?" Emmrich prodded, a silver brow lifted. Her self-deprecating words had sobered him. "The thought of you with … a husband?”

"Right," she said. "Or a lover or ... someone of similar station. Even if someone was interested, I have nothing to offer. Mages aren’t exactly known for their large dowries and influence – even the wealthiest ones – compared to normal nobles.”

She paused, her eyes drifting askance as she tapped her nails on the oak table. “That was what he said, anyway.”

"Who?"

"Cyril," she reminded him. "I just told you about him. He was my last ... suitor, I suppose. I was 25. We met in a Circle. It feels like yesterday, but... his words stuck. Evidently."

The man gently lowered his chalice onto the table, the sweet wine forgotten. His eyes, rimmed with intrigue but touched with sadness, examined her. While a devoted scholar, Emmrich was also a man with decades of experience working with peers of many ages and backgrounds. Many called him a gentleman for the ways he seemed to invite conversation and put others at ease, but he preferred to his he simply put proper effort into listening. He leaned in, encouraging her to say more.

The silent prodding bore fruit. "I mean, it's inarguable. Look at me."

He did. He had been since they'd started working alongside each other.

He saw a lovely woman, just a small handful of years younger than him. She was a head shorter than him, with a feminine but muscled build from years of training as a mage and honing her skills. Her jaw, cut perfectly square enough to put the gems on any viscount's ring to shame, was adorned with bright eyes and lips that were ... very pleasant.

Her eyes reflected the color of freezing cold sap, tapped from the tree of Emprise du Lion. Her lips, painted with a swatch of coral, looked full and soft as far as he could tell. He hadn't been blessed enough to feel them pillow against his skin, but he could imagine. Her skin bore a light tan, and her hair swung gaily over her shoulders with each spin and flip on the battlefield. Starlight-gray waves sprouted from her scalp, and he thought they framed her face beautifully. Elegantly.

"I ... see you," he said carefully. He stammered a moment, eyes still searching for what she could mean. “I see you quite well, as a matter of fact.”

To him, she looked like a partner anyone would be lucky to have.

"Well, there you go," she added with a light, almost flippant laugh.

"I fail to see what's funny."

"...Emmrich, you don't have to be polite," she said, her voice becoming softer as a result of his stern but inquisitive tone. “I’m not a child.”

"I am being honest, with the politeness always secondary," he reminded her. “Lucanis can testify to that.”

A tense beat of silence passed. Before he could speak up, she sighed and pushed her chalice away. It flared bottom skipped lightly across the uneven wood grain. "I-I'm sorry. That's my cue. I’ve had enough to drink, I believe."

Another shaky laugh left her. Emmrich heard a telltale tremble in her voice, and rose to pursue her.

"Belisma, wait—”

"I’m sorry," she said, cutting him off. Palm flattening against the wall to better support her weight, she made her way toward the great hall's door to exit.

It only took one hobble for him to round the table after her. "You’re unsteady. I'll walk you."

"Please. Stay."

A man of many years, he could easily transcribe her true request from the dismal look on her face: “Keep back and let me go.”

So, he did.

Not one to disobey their leader, especially when she requested something so simple, he respected her desire for space. Falling back, he watched her go. She did not falter again, from what he could see.

Her shadow eventually slinked out of the room and to the left, which was the path he knew led to her quarters. As he watched her vanish into the night-darkened halls of the base, regret filled his lungs like sea water.

He should have said something sooner.

Night.

Night in the Fade was … very similar to the day, he had to admit. It wasn’t even really night, he supposed. Just an agreed upon hour where they all stole moments of slumber between onslaughts of enemies.

Back home, night was the most comfortable hour for the necromancer, as it shrouded the work in a silver-tinted darkness. Temperatures cooled, and his mind could home in better on his duties as an esteemed member of the Mourn Watch. Night was a time for study; a time for work. A time for solving problems he refused to let fester.

Here, the air still shimmered like mica, but the sky did not grow inky like it did in the mortal realms. Its comforts felt somewhat hollow, but it was all he had, so he took them.

When the Lighthouse was quiet save for his footsteps, he left his chamber and began to walk.

Emmrich knew his destination, in theory. There was a sparse list of places their Rook would, or could, travel to for relaxation. One of those areas was a small room located a few floors up, overlooking the Fade’s ever-twitching horizon. A small, stone room where mages could practice magic without risk of rogue spells hurting others.

Upon arriving at the room, he heard her voice from within. Grunts and yells of exertion peppered the otherwise quiet air. The older man took a deep breath, which served the dual purpose of bolstering his confidence as well as calming his racing heart.

He knocked. A beat of silence passed.

Then, a voice called from beyond the iron-enforced frame. "Come in."

A pleasant voice. A kind, womanly, familiar voice that could lure enamored men to burn their tomes for her.

Ignoring that he fit into that category all too neatly himself, he swallowed and entered the chamber. As he laid his palm against the frame, the metal was warm to the touch, even through his adorned glove.

The room was built from stone, top to bottom, with only a few slots to serve as windows. They also provided the handy attribute of ventilation, as this chamber was one mages utilized to train their abilities.

It was quite common to enter the training room to find the air crackling with electricity, or to nearly slip on ice-covered stones from the last mage practicing a bout of freezing spells.

In this case, Belisma appeared to be practicing fire magic. Her staff drawn and the smell of cinder permeating the air, she turned and gave the visitor a smile. The iron-clad tip of her staff still burned red-hot in the semi-darkness as she turned to him.

"Oh! Emmrich."

She looked pleased to see him on the surface, but he knew her better by now. There was a slight, nervous way her lower eyelids would upturn when she peered at him, like she was squinting through him, as if to see better intentions.

Nodding, he risked a step forward. "I thought I heard you in here. I ... wanted to check on you."

Although he spoke carefully, her face still fell at his admission. "Ah. Because of earlier."

"Yes, earlier."

A measured sigh snaked in and out of her lungs.

"It … was a moment of weakness," she confessed, hands dropping to her sides. He noticed with a heavy heart that she cast her gaze to the opposite corner of the room. An obvious sign of shame. "I shouldn't have burdened you with that. I'd had too much to drink and ... I suppose the ghosts of the past got a hold of me. I apologize."

"You needn’t apologize for that," he said kindly. "You're hardly the first one to divulge personal secrets over a chalice of wine, and I'm sure you'll be far from the last."

Her brown eyes sought his. "W-Well, when you put it like that ... perhaps you're right."

"I often am," he teased.

She smiled at that, and his heart leapt again. Gods above, how had any man made the woman before him feel unworthy of affection. Had time-altering spells been more his forte, he might have chanced traveling back a few decades just to clobber the fool with a skull. Or two. Perhaps a dragon skill, if he could lift it. Taash could help, he reasoned.

As the silence spurred his thoughts, it quieted hers in tandem. She sighed, tapping the leather-wrapped end of her staff’s hilt against the floor.

In a split second, bright sparks flitted between the crevices in the stone, snaking their way upwards through the narrow channels until the fire leads to the wicks of the candles adorning the room's small chandelier. With the formerly cavernous room now aglow with firelight, he could more keenly observe a notable flush to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm glad I didn't scare you away from wanting to talk to me."

He snorted in amusement. "It'll take more than banter to scare me, dear."

The realization of the term slipping out hit too late, and he cleared his thought awkwardly. "I-I've seen more death than some armies, you know. So n-no. Not scared at all. No."

He heard her chuckle warmly at his stammering. Perhaps she found it endearing, he hoped.

Nonetheless, fighting his own blush now, a hand lofted to scratch his temple. It was also his turn to look away, lest he become lost in those syrupy eyes again.

“I promise to hold my drink better when we hold our next private celebration,” she noted gaily. “You won’t have to listen to an old maid ramble, haha. Nobody here needs that in our only place of respite.”

Just as Emmrich had turned to scuttle away, he was lured back. “Stop that.”

She paused, glancing up at him. “Hm?”

“Stop with the self-depreciating comments, Belisma.”

Unlike his voice before, which had wavered from boyish shyness, his tone in the moment was pure bravado. He allowed himself to take pleasure in watching her cheeks turn cherry-red. Despite the color that bloomed on her face, her eyes remained glued to him.

“E-Emm—”

“You are a woman of immense talent and beauty, and while I enjoy your company here more than the company of any other, I cannot abide by you taking every opportunity to be so disparaging of yourself.”

He took a step toward her, and Maker, she stayed in place. He didn’t so much as take a breath as he dared to advance another. Before he knew it, it had crossed the threshold between them enough for their chests to barely touch. He couldn’t help but note that she was even more captivating from this angle.

“You are our leader, a talented mage, and your dedication to leading us through this rather unprecedented situation is nothing short of remarkable,” he reminded her.

“You think—”

“You call yourself an ‘old maid’? Please. You are an incredible woman, and any soul across Tevinter, Nevarra, or bloody Thedas would be lucky to share a room, or a drink, with you. I certainly am.”

He saw her eyes widen, but he couldn’t stop himself. The floodgates had opened, and it was impossible to bring them crashing down again.

“They’d be even luckier to have you as a partner…a lover, as you said before.”

A stern finger lofted to prod her collarbone lightly, a gesture that would have potentially felt patronizing if they weren’t too adults that seemed to be drifting closer by the second.

The next words caught in his throat.

“A-As I…should …”

The molten intrigue in her eyes vanished in that moment. With the poise he often saw her display on the battlefield, her eyes fell shut as she flowed forward.

He braced for a slap, but felt her lips press against his instead.

Maker, he thought in a blitz of passion, how long had it been since anyone had kissed him? Decades, probably. The thought was met with fleeting entertainment, but quickly passed as he realized he wasn’t going to overthink himself out of appreciating the moment.

He leaned in, hands finding purchase on her hips for balance.

Her lips, as he’d thought, were so soft. They became even more pliable when he reciprocated, angling his head in a way so that slotted his nose beside hers and pressed hard into her cheek. The better angle allowed him to nudge all the closer. Her bottom lip was nestled between his at first, but with another sway of their bodies, she tilted away, and he took the opportunity to take that lip between his teeth just slightly.

He worried for a moment it was too forward, but concerns melted when she moaned (gods, a glorious sound!) and inched her arms upward. First, she gripped his shoulders. Then, her arms wrapped around his neck, nudging their pounding hearts into further alignment.

Just the scrape of his teeth made her gasp again, and her strong arms hauled him closer. With her bosom pressed to his chest and their thighs flush, it was euphoria. The man was too enamored to realized that he’d walked her backward across the room, pressing her to the stone wall gently. Unable to help himself, he smiled against the kiss, and she chased that smile with her own.

When they parted for air, panting and breathless, he stared into her eyes. They looked even darker than they had before. All the more tempting to become lost in them, he noted.

“I…I have not been kissed in a very, very long time …” he admitted breathlessly.

Belisma’s lips, now a slightly more muted shade after he’d kissed her lipstick off, curved into a smile.

“I’ve never been kissed like that,” she confessed with a whisper. “Ever.”

Shared mirth leapt between them, and he dared to rest his forehead against hers.

“P-Perhaps I should get tipsy more often if it leads to pleasant moments like this.”

A laughter, warm like summer thunder, rumbled in his chest. He eyes crinkled as he cupped her cheek, noting how she leaned int his touch.

“Well,” he husked, his voice shifting to a pleasant burr as he urged her close, “All the more reason from you to not drink alone again, dear.”

This time, he leaned in to capture her lips against his.

And she, their fearless Rook, leaned into him with abandon.

I'm now going to go back to begging BioWare for crumbs, haha.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Can you do Zolu x reader I want a baby headcannon

I deiced to do half headcannon half story :)

Zoro X Luffy X reader, Poly relationship, Established relationship, Reader is Female.

Warning: Bad language.

^ You have no idea why but you've been thinking about it a lot lately, wanting a baby was the only thing on your mind for days and days turned into weeks. You tried hiding it but when ever you stopped off on an island you notice more and more kids interact with their parents, at times it felt like they were mocking you and soon it got too much.

^ Sitting on the top deck at the front of the sunny Staring out to sea with Zoro asleep next to you and Luffy on the Lions head blurted it out without thinking. "I want a baby". You shocked both of them, Zoro waking up immediately like he had a nightmare and Luffy's head turned so fast you thought it would fly off.

^ You regretted saying it as the two started asking question after question, Why?, are you serious?, is this a joke? Do you know what your asking? But all you could do was shrug looking at their shocked faces.

^ You are gonna give Zoro a heart attack 100%, You all live a very dangerous life and even though things are going well at the moment adding a baby into the mix is a bad idea in his opinion.

^ Luffy is half-and-half on the idea, he wants to give you what you want but at the same time he doesn't know anything about taking care of a baby.

^ You couldn't give much in the way of answers and ended up telling then to leave it and that you were just thinking out loud. You told them it was just a silly idea and to ignore you.

^ Luffy wasn't happy with how things went down, he apologized and gave you lots of affection throughout the day. Even though you laughed and smiles at him the Captain could still see sadness in you and it hurt, it made him re think everything and how you've been acting the past few days.

^ When Luffy doesn't know or understand something it frustrates him and since he couldn't get anything off you he went to Robin and Nami instead. He made it sound like he was talking about a friend but of course the girls knew he was talking about you so they explained everything they could. Nami was more of the emotional side and Robin was more Logic but it worked and Luffy started to understand more.

^ Zoro didn't push you to talk about it, but he kept an eye on you all day, he knew you were upset, but he just couldn't justify having a baby right now. Yes he wanted to comfort you and tell you it'll be ok, but he also didn't want to give in, he worries about you and his Captain enough, he didn't want to add a defenseless baby onto the list.

^ Sanji noticed something was wrong right off the bat when Zoro didn't get into a fight with the cook all day so deiced to ask him about it. Of course Zoro ignored the cook and all his questions but as Sanji was going to leave he sighed and blurted out everything. Your poor Swordsman was dragged into the kitchen and yelled at for almost an hour but Zoro did learn a few things which surprised him.

^ You thinked about one question all day, why do you want a baby? It seemed like a simple question to answer but you just couldn't find one. You some times talk to Robin when your confused about something but you couldn't find her anywhere. The only other person you could think of was Jinbe.

^ You were very unsure about asking him so you ended up being very vage not mentioning a baby in any way, it was along the lines of "I want something but i don't know why i want it... i just have this overwhelming need to have it" Jinbe helped as best he could, but he did ask about what "it" was.

^ Still not having the answer you caved in telling the fish man that you wanted a baby and to your surprise the man wasn't shocked in fact he smiled and let out a booming laugh and told you that it might have something to do with what happened on Wano. It hit you very hard but you had your answer.

^ Zoro and Luffy had a talk after dinner about you and the baby thing sharing what each other new and found out, Luffy learned more about hormones and how some times girls get this overwhelming need to have a baby because of them while Zoro learned that maybe you weren't feeling loved enough and that they needed to do more for you.

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

The sun had long set but you couldn't sleep, the shared room you have with your two boys was too quiet as you sat on the bed cross-legged facing the door. You needed to tell them why you wanted a baby, even if they still said no at least you got it off your chest and maybe you could forget about it. When Zoro and Luffy walked in they were surprised to see you awake, your normally asleep by now and you have a sad look on your face. Luffy runs up and jumps onto you wrapping his arms around you as you fell back onto the bed "Y/n Please don't be sad" The Captain held you tight placing his face in your neck while your arms went around him, Zoro sighs getting you to look over at him as he closes the door and makes his way over to the bed. Laying down next to you the swordsman runs a hand through your hair noticing you look more nervous than upset "I urm... I've been thinking and i think i know why now" You manage to get out looking at Zoro who's face is right next to yours "We think we know two, it's your hormones right?" Luffy smiles sitting up and straddling your lap as your hands go to his hips, letting out a sigh you shake your head making your captain very confused.

Zoro sits up slightly using his elbow to support himself "Have we not been giving you enough attention? I'm sorry if we haven't" The sad look on his face makes your heart tier, reaching up you place a hand on the swordsman's cheek while the other holds into Luffy's hand "No, no its not that, you two are great. Your there when ever i need you and your always so sweet... its nothing like that, i-" You sigh again looking form Zoro to Luffy seeing them both confused and concerned. What else could there be? "You don't have to say yes, i think i just need to get this off my chest" Zoro holds your hand to his cheek as you talk while Luffy leans down and places a kiss on your cheek "You can tell us anything" The captain smiles taking his hat off and placing it on your head, it makes you feel a lot better and you even manage to smile a little and squeeze his hand.

Taking a breath you compose yourself before talking "After Wano i started thinking about having a baby and its only gotten stronger and i think it's because... You two almost died, i thought i lost both of you during the battle and i couldn't handle it" You tear up a little and pull Luffy's hat over your eyes unable to look at the two as you continue "All i could think of was that i wouldn't have anything. Two head stones and some trinkets? I wanted you two not that, i needed you with me, one way or another, not a hat or a sword or a shirt but... something that was you" Tears fall down your cheeks as you ramble the image of the two bandaged up laying almost lifeless filled your mind, you couldn't bare the thought of being without them. "Baby, where alive" Zoro leans closer wiping some tears off your cheeks, you never talked about what happened on Wano and maybe they should have brought it up if this is how you were feeling. Luffy sits on your lap in shock, he remembered you being so happy when him and Zoro woke up and you never seemed sad about it but now he could see you were hurting.

Leaning down Luffy takes your hand off his hat and tilts it up seeing your eyes shift to look away from the two men "I'm sorry, i didn't know it hurt you but i won't leave you again" Luffy leans down and places a kiss on your other cheek "But, what if it happens again, we come up against stronger and stronger people and your always getting hurt.... i know your both strong but i can't, i just can't" You left a hand up wipe away some tears finally looking up at Luffy and then to Zoro "You did die and yes you came back, but what if next time you don't" Zoro leans in and places a light kiss on your lips placing his forehead against yours "I'm sorry baby, i should have seen you were hurting but like Luffy said i'm not gonna leave you again" Luffy places a hand on Zoro's back the two boys looking at each other with a nod seeming to silently agree on something. Your eyes flick between the two managing to stop crying and wiping away the last of your tears as Luffy take the hat off your head and puts it on his with a smile.

Zoro leans over and places light kisses along your shoulder and up to your neck, your unsure of what is going on but you don't stop him, his light kisses make you feel better and loved. Luffy leans down and pulls your chin, turning your head to look at him before placing his lips on yours. Humming in relaxation you run your hands up the captains chest and to his cheeks as he shoves his tongue into your mouth, Luffy runs a hand up and down your side while the other goes into Zoro's hair who moans slightly while kissing around your neck. Luffy pulls away hovering over you with a kind smile moving his hand from your side to your cheek running his thumb under your eye "Do you still want a baby?" The words that leave his mouth shocks you making your eyes widen, Zoro chuckles into your neck feeling you tense as he pulls away to look at you with a small smile. "Yes" The words leave your lips before you brain can process but you don't regret it. The swordsman places his lips on yours biting your lip so you'll open your mouth for him which you gladly do, letting his tongue in, moaning into Zoro's mouth you jump a little when you feel Luffy lift up your shirt a little and start kissing your stomach.

[skunts-own-truth]

Did you know that after the Tyranid Hive Mind first encountered Guilliman and the Lion, it began to develop these shapely, big lipped sucky-bioforms? Any battle the Primarchs appear on the Astartes forces will find thousands and thousands of these things, rushing towards the Primarchs in a ravenous frenzy never before seen by the Imperium of Man, but when they finally make it to the Primarchs the poor things just get to darn bashful to perform their wet and sticky task.

Sad really.

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Agree or disagree?

Wow, you probably want a one-word answer, but I'm gonna give you a paragraph (or maybe 7).

I feel like Lance would be laughing hysterically and nope out of the situation. Keith would probably scream or punch a wall first or at least have a lil broody moment to panic, but yeah after that he'd try to get out of it. Though, is this before or after the lion switches? Are we assuming that this is an au and the lions never happened? Because after the lion switch, Keith could probably be moved to the same category as Lance. But if it's before the lion switch, Lance would be moved to the same one as Keith/Hunk.

Though, yeah, Lance doesn't have enough self-value to believe that he's the chosen one. I think Keith would say no in a more, 'I don't care about your freaking prophecy, let me be broody and emo in peace.' They're both super insecure.

The one with Shiro made me laugh. It is SO spot on. Poor old man just wants a break. I think if this is after the lion switch/Kuron, then maybe Keith would be the one to jump in and be like, 'Nuh uh, stay away from my brother, if he dies again I am gonna be SO PISSED.'

Pidge... yeah. No explanation needed. There's a reason I'm emotionally attached to her/him/them. This angelic demon child must be protected.

Hunk! Poor Hunk. No, leave him out of this, I can see him giving them the biggest, saddest puppy eyes while he says that. He doesn't want to be the chosen one, I feel like the entire team would jump in and try to prevent that. But because he's a perfect angel, he would accept it to help him team and STOP IT THIS MAKING ME SAD.

Sorry bout that. Let's not talk about Hunk anymore.

Allura would see this as an obligation that she has, as a princess and as the (sort of) head of the Voltron coalition. She means those words completely, and will not let anyone down no matter what because this poor bean has too much pressure on her. The whole show was made to portray her as a serious, regal leader. However, she clearly has a dorky side, and her whole role/character would be so much deeper and engaging if this were a bigger part of her personality. 'I will not let you down, and I will be completely serious about it, and you will see the transition from when I was that fun older sister who you can confide in, to the scarred older sister who has seen far too much for one lifetime.'

Can we add Coran in? Because he would be in the same category as Allura, but he would whip out a cape from somewhere and be like, 'Yes! I knew this day would come! I will not let you down!' while twirling his mustache. (Holy crap I just heard his voice in my head crystal clear saying those words. His accent makes it sound so cute!) Coran Coran the Gorgeous Man saves the day! (And he would fulfill the prophecy perfectly, and there would be a giant parade with Coran-balloons and aliens swooning anytime he winks in their direction.)

So, yes. I agree with you.

[thebrickinbrick]

Wherein Will Appear the Name of Enjolras's Mistress

Courfeyrac, seated on a paving-stone beside Enjolras, continued to insult the cannon, and each time that that gloomy cloud of projectiles which is called grape-shot passed overhead with its terrible sound he assailed it with a burst of irony.

“You are wearing out your lungs, poor, brutal, old fellow, you pain me, you are wasting your row. That’s not thunder, it’s a cough.”

And the bystanders laughed.

Courfeyrac and Bossuet, whose brave good humor increased with the peril, like Madame Scarron, replaced nourishment with pleasantry, and, as wine was lacking, they poured out gayety to all.

“I admire Enjolras,” said Bossuet. “His impassive temerity astounds me. He lives alone, which renders him a little sad, perhaps; Enjolras complains of his greatness, which binds him to widowhood. The rest of us have mistresses, more or less, who make us crazy, that is to say, brave. When a man is as much in love as a tiger, the least that he can do is to fight like a lion.

That is one way of taking our revenge for the capers that mesdames our grisettes play on us. Roland gets himself killed for Angélique; all our heroism comes from our women. A man without a woman is a pistol without a trigger; it is the woman that sets the man off. Well, Enjolras has no woman. He is not in love, and yet he manages to be intrepid. It is a thing unheard of that a man should be as cold as ice and as bold as fire.”

Enjolras did not appear to be listening, but had any one been near him, that person would have heard him mutter in a low voice: “Patria.”

Bossuet was still laughing when Courfeyrac exclaimed:

“News!”

And assuming the tone of an usher making an announcement, he added:

“My name is Eight-Pounder.”

In fact, a new personage had entered on the scene. This was a second piece of ordnance.

The artillery-men rapidly performed their manœuvres in force and placed this second piece in line with the first.

This outlined the catastrophe.

A few minutes later, the two pieces, rapidly served, were firing point-blank at the redoubt; the platoon firing of the line and of the soldiers from the suburbs sustained the artillery.

Another cannonade was audible at some distance. At the same time that the two guns were furiously attacking the redoubt from the Rue de la Chanvrerie, two other cannons, trained one from the Rue Saint-Denis, the other from the Rue Aubry-le-Boucher, were riddling the Saint-Merry barricade. The four cannons echoed each other mournfully.

The barking of these sombre dogs of war replied to each other.

One of the two pieces which was now battering the barricade on the Rue de la Chanvrerie was firing grape-shot, the other balls.

The piece which was firing balls was pointed a little high, and the aim was calculated so that the ball struck the extreme edge of the upper crest of the barricade, and crumbled the stone down upon the insurgents, mingled with bursts of grape-shot.

The object of this mode of firing was to drive the insurgents from the summit of the redoubt, and to compel them to gather close in the interior, that is to say, this announced the assault.

The combatants once driven from the crest of the barricade by balls, and from the windows of the cabaret by grape-shot, the attacking columns could venture into the street without being picked off, perhaps, even, without being seen, could briskly and suddenly scale the redoubt, as on the preceding evening, and, who knows? take it by surprise.

“It is absolutely necessary that the inconvenience of those guns should be diminished,” said Enjolras, and he shouted: “Fire on the artillery-men!”

All were ready. The barricade, which had long been silent, poured forth a desperate fire; seven or eight discharges followed, with a sort of rage and joy; the street was filled with blinding smoke, and, at the end of a few minutes, athwart this mist all streaked with flame, two thirds of the gunners could be distinguished lying beneath the wheels of the cannons. Those who were left standing continued to serve the pieces with severe tranquillity, but the fire had slackened.

“Things are going well now,” said Bossuet to Enjolras. “Success.”

Enjolras shook his head and replied:

“Another quarter of an hour of this success, and there will not be any cartridges left in the barricade.”

It appears that Gavroche overheard this remark.

[magmagicstyle]

WHEN I WAS YOUR MAN (B)

(PART TWO (B) OF WHEN I WAS YOUR MAN (A) (“SO I CAN HAVE YOU BACK” SERIES))

⚠️WARNING⚠️: I mean… not really, maybe some violence because vampires need to eat and that… I guess sadness and long-ass descriptions also count… maybe

A/N: Hi there, it's been a while, haha.... So... Please remember that English isn't my first language, that I haven't been active for months and that I'm a tired college graduate. Thank you. ♥️ Hope you enjoy this crazy thing. That you forgive my spelling and grammatical mistakes, and that you can leave a heart or comment on your way out.

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

If you had to explain the meeting with the kings in just a couple of words, those would be: unexpected and confusing. Of course, this would be simplifying the meeting in a way that is almost insulting, but what could you do about it? It wasn’t like you could put all your feelings in words and expect everybody to understand what you were trying to express. Still, unexpected and confusing could be the best choice of words, even if they were quite poor.

First of all, the kings were quite charming. 

That wasn't surprising, after all, they needed to have a certain charm in themselves to be able to rule over all the vampires in the world. Since, it didn't matter how strong they were, if all the vampires decided that the Volturi didn’t deserve their power, they would be able to dethrone them. So, they were charming in a way that made you want to follow them. 

Their words seemed to be carefully united in sentences meant for you to want to be with them while fearing the idea of disappointing them. Even Caius, the most ruthless and rude of the three had a certain charm to him that you couldn’t help but want to see more. Marcus was sad, that was quite obvious, apathy was a horrible and depressing sickness of which the king seemed to be a victim. Still, he was like a calm force that made you feel like you were alone in the middle of a forest far away from all human life, without the weight of the expectations that are tied to your mere existence. 

King Aro was another thing completely. 

First of all, he was gorgeous. His black hair was bright and framed a perfect angular and gorgeous face, his height and body were so symmetrical that they made you want to cry. His eyes shone with the playfulness and mischief of a man that has a kid’s soul… All of those traits should make you fall for him, should make you want to bend over your back to please him and to make his wishes come true but… Those beautifully perfect traits only made you want to hide and avoid being in his sight. 

He was so breathtaking that you knew that he could use and would use this as a weapon to get what he wanted no matter what. He was dangerous in a way that was pulling. It was like seeing a lion or a tiger, grand beasts, alluring and charming in a way that made you want to walk towards them and caress their magnificent coat, but dangerous in a way that you knew that as soon as you were close enough to them, you would be killed in a horrendous way. 

Of course, Aro knew your thoughts and at some point even your feelings, but luckily for you, he was mostly flattered by them. After all, he knew that you respected them and their way of ruling. Also, the fact that you were Carlisle’s mate was a plus for them, Carlisle was your friend and if you were his mate -even when being too good for him- then they would treat you with the same care as they treated their old friend. 

The weight of the moment was not lost on you as you stood before the Volturi, their powerful presence enveloping the grand throne room. Aro's warm and soothing tone resonated in your ears as he acknowledged your loyalty and the significance of your connection with Carlisle.

The mention of being Carlisle's mate had its own impact. It was both a validation and a reminder of the complexities of relationships, even among immortals. The Volturi, with their keen insight into the minds and hearts of others, understood the depth of your feelings and the conflict you had experienced. But rather than judgment, they responded with an unexpected and welcoming acceptance.

"Oh, you lost lamb," Aro's voice resonated through the grand throne room, laced with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment. His words carried a weighty truth, causing you to pause and reflect on the nature of your relationship with Carlisle. "A mate is a gift for our lonely existences. It's quite disappointing to see our dear friend acting like a foolish human, moved by sentiment and doubts when the world gifted you to him to accompany his days and nights."

As Aro spoke, his warm tone enveloped you, offering a semblance of comfort. His hand gently caressed your cold skin, the touch reminiscent of a father soothing a distraught child. For a brief moment, you closed your eyes, feeling the venom gathering within your eyes, a testament to the intense emotions stirring within. However, despite the overwhelming surge of emotions, you refused to succumb to tears. You had grown weary of being relegated to second place, undeserving of the love and recognition you craved.

In that moment, you resolved to forge your own path, to find happiness on your own terms. The words spoken by Aro reverberated in your mind, causing a newfound strength to surge within. You knew you deserved more than being treated as a secondary choice. The realization dawned upon you, illuminating a path toward self-discovery and embracing the love that awaited you.

With a renewed determination, you opened your eyes, meeting Aro's gaze squarely. The red hue of his irises pierced through your soul, acknowledging the fire that burned within you. You had come to Volterra seeking solace and answers, and now you found yourself entangled in the intricate web of vampire politics and profound connections.

In this grand throne room, where the fate of many was determined, you were offered a glimpse of a different future—one that held promises of love, power, and belonging. Aro's words, though steeped in disappointment, held a glimmer of opportunity. They resonated deep within you, stirring an unwavering resolve to embrace the life you truly deserved.

“Aro…” Marcus said in a whisper, breaking your train of thoughts and bringing you back to the current moment. Still, his voice was quite strong and deep in the middle of the silent throne room. Aro pulled away from you and in a blink of an eye, he was by his brother’s side. His hands were touching Marcus’ offered limb with the eagerness of a child that was in on a secret that nobody else could know. As soon as he finish watching what the other king was trying to show, he let out an elated giggle, looking at you and at Nikolas with bright and playful eyes. The red in Marcus’ and Aro’s orbs went directly through your soul.

“My kings?” Nikolas asked, looking at the three vampires sitting on their thrones. Caius, unlike other times, looked quite interested in your presence. It was clear that he was curious, but… why? 

“My dear brother has seen something quite interesting between you two…” Aro said while walking back towards where you were standing. “It’s almost impossible to find your mate, but to find your true mate, the one that is made for you no matter what, after being rejected by one of the possible mates in this world? That is priceless, never been heard of and now… now we are able to see it happening right in front of our eyes… That’s truly marvellous…” The long-haired king let out with an elated and mischievous tone of voice.

You looked directly and Nikolas, unable to explain how you felt over this development but also knowing that in the middle of the storm of emotions, part of it was pure happiness. After all, you weren’t alone. You wouldn’t be a second choice, not for this gorgeous creature in front of you. Nikolas put his hands over your cheeks and showed a charming and caring smile that only confirmed your thoughts. You really were the only one for him. 

“Child… What’s your gift?” Caius asked in a cold and a bit rude tone of voice, looking at the interaction without any care for the lovely dovely feeling that surrounded you and your just-found mate. 

“Oh, brother… must you interrupt this moment? Dear (y/n) over here, is a mirror, a magnificent mirror capable of coping, whipping back, or stopping another vampire’s gifts… Surely, he can become a fabulous addition to our guard… a powerful vampire willing to do anything to maintain the peace we are so used to and willing to eliminate or neutralize any threat against his beloved…” Aro said with a smirk while looking at you. 

You wouldn’t doubt it, not for a second. Your eyes shone with the possibility of staying in Volterra, with the idea of being part of one of the most powerful clans in the world, with the idea of helping and being appreciated while also being able to stay with your mate, to get to know the gorgeous creature that life sent for you. 

“Of course, my kings… I would be honoured to serve and protect…” You said while vowing in front of them, before lifting your head and looking at the three governors. While doing so, your eyes managed to catch three powerful and charismatic smiles. 

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

After your initial introduction to the Volturi kings and your acceptance of the prestigious position within their guard, it didn't take long for you to integrate yourself into the group of vampires that lived in the fortress. The grand halls of Volterra became your new home, and the enigmatic Volturi guard became your family.

The first encounters were with Demetri and Felix, the two, even if they acted like dorks most of the time, were actually quite formidable vampires who possessed both strength and skill that matched their intimidating presence. Of course, you knew that their appareance was just a mask, since as you spent more time with them, their rough exteriors and stoic expressions gave way to camaraderie, mutual respect and playful and caring bond that made you think of two older brothers that would prank you and protect you when necessary. You found common ground in your shared duties and the pursuit of safeguarding the Volturi's reign. Demetri's astute tracking abilities and Felix's unwavering loyalty became traits you admired and found solace in, knowing they would have your back no matter what.

Alec, a cold, stoic but loyal member of the guard, caught your attention with his unwavering devotion to the Volturi kings. There was an air of innocence about him, reminiscent of a young child in awe of their parents. His admiration for Aro and the others was palpable, and it painted a picture of pure loyalty and dedication to his duty and his masters. The more time you spend with him, the more you noticed how underneath his seemingly stoic exterior, there was a young vampire who yearned for guidance and approval, and you found yourself drawn to his endearing nature, wanting to comfort him.

Jane, the other youngest member of the guard -with her brother-, presented a unique challenge. Her rough edges and seemingly unyielding demeanour were a result of a past that had not offered her the kindness she deserved. As you observed her, same as with her brother, you sensed a need for guidance and compassion, the need for someone who could teach her the beauty of empathy and gentleness. With patience and understanding, you slowly broke through her defences, earning her trust and acceptance. It was a testament to your character and the genuine connections you forged within the guard.

The rest of the Volturi guard, comprising various vampires with their own unique gifts and histories, embraced your presence without hesitation. Their acceptance was solidified by the kings themselves, who had extended their open arms and entrusted you with the responsibility of protecting their dynasty. Your own gift, like Aro had explained in your first meeting, was quite unique and interesting, and it also made you an invaluable asset to the guard's arsenal.

But perhaps what solidified your place among the Volturi guard was the bond that had formed between you and Nikolas. The strength of your connection as mates was evident to all, and something that had not gone unnoticed by the guard. Nikolas, the captivating and powerful vampire with a charming smile and a fierce devotion to those he cared about, had taken a liking to you. His fondness for you only further cemented your acceptance within the guard, as nobody would dare provoke his wrath. After all, Nikolas was one of the strongest vampires in the whole guard, being considered an unbreakble shield for so long.

With each passing day, your role within the Volturi guard became more entrenched. You found solace in the shared purpose and the unspoken bond that tied you to these vampires. The tasks, training and work that they gave you helped you forget about your past life. Nikolas also helped. Your gorgeous mate, with his pale skin, strong physique, and dark hair that framed his unnaturally perfect face, possessed an irresistible charm that left a lasting impression. His captivating smile and alluring italian accent only added to his appeal, making him a figure of intrigue and magnetism within the Volturi guard. Sure, all the vampires were perfect, but meanwhile some didn’t look like they were meant to be considered in the group of unnatural beauty and magnetism, Nikolas was different. He had such an appearance that it made you think that even as a human, he would be considered superior among his peers. 

When you and Nikolas first crossed paths, the connection was immediate and undeniable. Of course that as mates, you wanted to be together. But while your instincts screamed for you to claim the other vampire as yours, your heart and mind was still healing from the pain that your relationship with Carlisle had left you. Nikolas was really kind and understood perfectly your doubts and fears. He, recognizing that you were still healing from your previous relationship with Carlisle, decided to proporse that you began your relationship as friends, taking the time to explore and nurture the blossoming bond between you.

During this time, the gardens of Volterra became your sanctuary, a tranquil haven where you two had found solace in each other's company. Nikolas and you would often spend hours in the middle of the vibrant flora, basking in the warm sunlight that filtered through the leaves that hid your shinning bodies. You would read together or to one another, your voices intertwining with the rustling of pages, as you delved into literature that sparked your curiosity and ignited your imaginations.

Long conversations became the foundation of your friendship. Those were the moments that helped you understand that Nikolas wasn’t only following his instincts. No, unlike Carlisle, he truly seemed to want to be around you. This allowed you to share your hopes, dreams, and even your fears with Nikolas. In return, he did the same, confessing his different thoughts and feelings in those afternoons hidden between the flowers of the garden. As the both of you opened up to one another, your connection deepened, each revelation strengthening the trust that you had cultivated with each other. You would speak of your gift, talking about the advantages and problems that it created for you, while Nikolas would tell you the tales of his immense strength and extraordinary tracking ability. 

Thanks to this interactions and moments together your friendship began to evolve, as stolen glances turned into lingering touches, and laughter filled the air whenever you were together. The chemistry between you was palpable, an undercurrent of desire simmering beneath the growing affection that bathed your exchanges. Yet, considering the time together and the need for reassurance, you two cherished the foundation you had built, unwilling to rush into something more before both of you were ready for a romantic connection.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as your friendship continued to flourish, to grow and get stronger. During this times, you found solace in each other's presence, a sense of belonging that you both had searched for so many years. Through shared adventures and quiet moments of vulnerability, you discovered a love that was both gentle and fierce, nurturing the deepest corners of your souls. It was like that, between conversations and soft touches that you confessed and accepted Nikolas’ proposal to continue your time together as lovers. 

Although it hurts

I'll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late

To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the room, you found yourself lying in bed with Nikolas, this was the first time sharing a bed with your mate. The first time you decided to open yourself to him and to let the other vampire touch you in ways that only Carlisle had done before. Still, you weren’t scared and you didn’t have any doubts, your bodies close and your hearts filled with the fluttering excitement of newfound love. The coolness of your skin against each other only heightened the sensations, soft touches with such strong bodies, as you explored the depths of intimacy and romance.

Nikolas's eyes, filled with adoration and tenderness, met yours, and a soft smile played upon his lips. It was a look that spoke volumes, conveying the depth of his feelings without uttering a single word or even making a noise. You didn’t need it, the way he was looking at you, the way his fingers and lips touched your skin, his actions spoke more than any word in the world could say. At that moment, you knew that you were both embarking on a journey of love and connection, unlike anything you had experienced before… and even if you didn’t have any doubts, to begin with, this sensation only reassured you even more that you were making the right decision by letting him embrace you in his bed.

Drawing you into his embrace, Nikolas's touch was gentle and almost reverent, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your cheek, going down your neck and chest. Every caress, every brush of his lips against your skin, ignited a warmth within you that surpassed the absence of mortal warmth. You knew that if you were humans, your skin would feel as hot as an open fire. His love and his actions were something that transcended physicality. This was a bond worthy of being considered a soulmate, a bond that didn’t stay in the instinct part of things, that didn’t support itself in empty words and promises. No, this was a type of love that was delving into the realms of the soul.

Leaning in, his lips met yours in a tender kiss, filled with a sweet longing and a desire to convey all the emotions that words couldn't express. It was a moment of vulnerability and trust, where the barriers between you crumbled, and you were left basking in the pure connection that blossomed between your hearts. As your bodies moved in sync, exploring the contours of each other with a tenderness that defied the coolness of your vampire nature, a symphony of whispered endearments and soft sighs filled the air. Every touch, every caress, was an affirmation of the love that was blooming between you, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, time seemed to stand still, it was as if someone had frozen you in a picture, away from the rest of the world, allowing you to savour the sweetness of this deep and caring love. There were no worries or doubts, only the purity of the present moment, where you both discovered the beauty of intimacy and affection that surpassed mortal understanding. You couldn’t think of anything else, only his touches on your skin, his words being whispered in your ears, and his body so close to yours. 

You could feel his arms around your waist, the way his fingers caressed the exposed skin and the way he breathed your scent. You knew this was on purpose, you knew he didn’t need to breathe at all, he only wanted to feel your scent close to him. He wanted to know that you trusted so much that you were willing to bare your neck and your body to him. That was the thing that made it so special. 

With every breath, you could sense the mingling of your scents—his uniquely masculine aroma blending with the delicate hints of your own fragrance. It was a primal and intoxicating combination, a fusion of identities that marked the merging of two souls deeply entwined in love and desire. The subtle nuances of his scent enveloped you, filling your senses and creating an indelible imprint of his presence within you.

He was also smelling you, taking your scent in and staying close to your skin as if he was trying to imprint it in his memory. Carlisle never did that for too long. His moments with you were brief and just to fill his necessity of being close to his mate, unlike the moments spent with Nikolas. Your gorgeous mate made sure to show you how much he wanted to be with you, how much he trusted you and needed you in his life. 

Of course, the fact that you two felt so strongly for each other, and the fact that you were mates didn’t make any sense. After all, how could you have Nikolas as your mate while also having Carlisle as another mate? That didn’t make sense, even the kings were confused by this… but you didn’t care, nobody cared about it. It was almost like a miracle in your awfully lonely lives. So you decided to not pay attention to it. 

Even if you knew that since you had a second mate, this meant that Nikolas probably also had a second mate… so this could be a risk, this could mean that the other vampire would eventually find his second mate and would have to make the choice to stay or leave you. Still, the idea of being loved -even with the uncertainty of the future- was so amazing that you wanted to ignore the real world at least for a little bit. You wanted to ignore the fact that Carlisle was out there, with his wife and children, not caring for one bit that you ran away, you wanted to ignore the possibility of Nikolas’ other mate running around wanting to find him, you wanted to ignore all the duty and responsibilities that the two of you had with your guard and your kings. You just wanted to stay in this blessed moment of warmth and silence while being in the arms of this creature that loved you with all his being. 

The weight of your vampire nature, with its coolness and lack of heartbeat, seemed inconsequential in this moment of shared vulnerability and intimacy. In Nikolas's arms, you found a haven where the frigid reality of your existence melted away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the intensity of your emotional connection. It was a testament to the power of love, transcending the limitations of your immortal forms and allowing you to experience a depth of intimacy that surpassed anything you had known before. 

In this space, where only you and he were in each other embrace, time seemed to stand still. The concerns and obligations that burdened your minds were eclipsed by the all-consuming passion and affection that flowed between you. Each stolen kiss, every whispered word, was an affirmation of the profound connection you shared—an unspoken promise to explore the depths of love and desire that awaited you. As your bodies melded together, the limits between you blurred until they disappeared completely, and you became lost in the intoxicating dance of passion, letting yourself go and relish in your time together as mates. The flow of your movements mirrored the cadence of your souls, entwined in a rhythm that defied mortal comprehension. It was a symphony of sensations, impossible to be explained by simple words, an intimate conversation between two hearts discovering the boundless depths of what could be considered true love for the first time in their inmortal lives.

I hope he buys you flowers

I hope he holds your hand

Give you all his hours

When he has the chance

Take you to every party

'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

In the forest near the Cullen house, the air was thick with tension as you, now standing as one of the vampires representing the Volturi, came face to face with Carlisle. Years had passed since you last had any contact with him, and many other things, you were able to love someone else, have new friends, you learned and gained years of experience that made you wiser than before. Gone was the little vampire that only believed in instinct and that believed that everything could be perfect with someone by your side. You were stronger, smarter and even if you were in love with your gorgeous Nikolas, you weren’t naive enough to think that nobody would try to break you apart. You trusted your partner, but you weren’t going to let someone try to come between you. Still, seeing him in front of you, looking exactly like the last time you saw each other, made the wounds from the past open a bit. 

As you and Carlisle locked eyes, a mixture of emotions swirled within you. Anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of betrayal coursed through your veins. You were over him, you didn’t want him back and you wouldn’t leave Nikolas for that poor excuse of a vampire that couldn’t follow the most basic of all rules. Still, the memories of how Carlisle had treated you, the way he had disregarded your feelings and mistreated you, still haunted your thoughts from time to time, and seeing him again, only opened a wound. 

For a moment you cursed the time you accepted to follow Orion’s orders and come to Forks. The moment you decided to act like his representative and come to deal with the newborn problem. Still, how could you deny him? Your heart ached with the similarities between your stories and with the fact that your pasts had the same villains in them. 

You could still remember the way that in the grand halls of the Volturi fortress, amidst the opulent architecture, the whispers of immortal beings could be heard. All of the members of the guard that were able to be present talked about the fated reunion between the kings and their mates. You could say that, as the enigmatic and captivating mate of the Volturi kings, Orion's arrival in the castle marked a moment of significance and anticipation. 

You weren’t surprised by the guards' reaction. After all, as soon as you saw Orion, you understood why the kings were so fond of the vampire that ran away from the Cullen clan. Orion, with his ethereal beauty and regal presence, commanded attention and respect from all who laid eyes upon him. It almost felt like beauty was his gift, but no. His gift was a more dangerous one, a power that you couldn’t begin to understand. His arrival in the Volturi stronghold was met with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. After all, his presence in the castle signified a union of power and love, an unbreakable bond that transcended the bounds of immortality. 

When the kings introduced you to Orion, you couldn’t help but smile, it was like a silent reassurance of a forming bond between you happening at the exact moment your eyes met. As Orion's gaze met yours for the first time, a connection sparked between you, forged by shared purpose and unspoken understanding and friendship. At that moment, you saw the weight of responsibility he carried, the sacrifices he had made for the sake of love and loyalty. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for acceptance and support, which you pledged to provide without hesitation. You looked at him and couldn’t help but be sympathetic to his life and history. It was at that moment that you decided to be not only his guard and protector but also be a friend, a confidant when he needed and maybe even some kind of brother. 

Aro introduced you to Orion and you could feel how the weight of his words hung in the air. You knew that you were important in Volterra, but to be considered as strong as necessary to be part of the personal guard of your king’s mate? That was reassuring. Your king has affirmed the significance of your role in the castle and you couldn’t help but answer with your actions, body moving on his own and making you vow your head with pride, your eyes never leaving Orion’s. It was a promise, a silent commitment to protect and help the future governor of your coven. 

As a member of the guard, you stood at the forefront, ready to protect and serve Orion with unwavering loyalty. Your role as his guardian was not merely a duty; it was a testament to the trust and affection that had been bestowed upon you. Your purpose was to ensure his safety and well-being, standing as a shield against any threat that dared to challenge the sanctity of his presence.

Carlisle took a hesitant step forward, pulling you away from your memories. He looked directly at you with a pained expression on his face and his voice filled with regret. "(y/n), I cannot express how deeply sorry I am for the way I made you feel… You must believe me… I realize now the mistakes I made, and I understand the pain I caused you… But you don’t know how long I searched for you… Please, come back… let me make it right. Stay with us, with my family. I want to make amends… I want to prove that I can be the mate you deserve… Esme and I aren’t together anymore, after you left… nothing was the same."

You listened, your guard still up, your heart burdened by the weight of past wounds. Carlisle's words stirred a mix of emotions within you, and for a moment, you contemplated the possibility of forgiveness… You would never go back to him, not in a million years. You had Nikolas and you would never leave the gorgeous mate that the world had gifted you, but still… You considered the idea of having a friendship with him, an understanding of sorts… Of course, these thoughts disappeared the moment you remember the feelings of abandonment and the sensations of being always considered second place in the blonde’s heart… it was then that the raw pain resurfaced, and you found the strength to voice your distress.

"Carlisle, it's too late," you replied, your voice tinged with sorrow and bitterness. "You had countless opportunities to treat me with respect and kindness, to be the partner I deserved… the mate you were supposed to be… But instead, you turned your back on me, treating me as though I was insignificant…”

Regret and anguish etched themselves onto Carlisle's face as he realized the gravity of his actions. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as if hoping to bridge the emotional chasm that had formed between you. “(y/n)... please… I can be better, come back to me… you know I can be better…” He said, almost in a whisper with a shaky tone of voice. Still, in the silence of the forest, his voice sounded so loud.

You let out a sigh, looking at him with a tired and bitter expression on your face. “I always came last, I was always the one left alone… You only care right now because you don’t have me by your side but… You don’t want me back because of love, but because of a weird sense of duty…"

 "I understand that I failed you, and I can't change the past. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make amends, to prove to you that I've learned from my mistakes… Give me a chance…" Carlisle said, eyes shining and you knew… you were absolutely sure that if he could, he would cry. 

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, laced with a mix of sadness and disbelief. "Carlisle, you don't understand… do you? You had your chance, in fact… you had multiple chances of proving to me that you wanted me in your life, that you wanted to try to have a real relationship with me and not the lie that we were living for so many months… and you threw it away. You decided to spit on the universe's face by treating your mate poorly, and now, I have found someone else… and he… He loves me like there's nothing else in the world, and I know that he would never betray me."

Carlisle's expression turned crestfallen as your words sank in. It was obvious that he didn’t expect you to love someone else, but… what did he think was going to happen? Even when heartbroken, you were gorgeous, an unreal beauty that even vampires could see as unique…  

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a testament to the pain you had endured. Carlisle's gaze met yours, filled with remorse and regret. "I can't change what I've done, but I want to make things right. Please, give me the chance to prove that I have changed, that I am capable of being the partner you deserve."

This insistence, his useless intents to make you go back to him were starting to be annoying for you, something quite obvious thanks to the mixture of irritation and resignation coloured your voice as you responded, "God, understand that it's too late. You had your chance, and you lost it, in fact, you threw it away like it was nothing… I have moved on, and I have found someone who values me and cherishes me without reservation. I deserve that love, and I won't settle for less."

A profound silence descended upon the forest, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You took a step back, your voice softening with a hint of sadness. "I wish you well, Carlisle, but my place is no longer by your side. We weren’t the right ones for each other… I don’t know who is for you but… I was able to find my soulmate and I have chosen my own happiness… Move on, Carlisle, because I will never look back…"

With those words, you turned and began to walk away, each step a testament to your strength and self-preservation. Carlisle stood there, his heart heavy with the knowledge of his mistakes and the pain he had caused. As he watched you disappear into the distance, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of loss, knowing that he had let go of something precious. He had everything and because of his stupid old ways and his lack of consideration, he lost the most wonderful thing the world had given him in his miserable life.

PERMANENT TAG LIST: @rexburn12 @kettnerjanea @pandalover19

TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES: (I can't believe I have one of these!) @idksleep-y @catspector @simpingfortoomanypeople @akiraackerman19 @y2k-whor3 @blackenedflowers @untitled74745 @cruxiohp @fanficaddictmwah @finchisloney @sen-nn-a @mrsxyz480 @deepblueseasworld @blackenedflowers @maiasvidan28 @linoriii @lucianideals @erensbbg @theanimalover22128 @its-ares @thewhitewolfmarvel @chrisevansxmalereader @sammy-stark @sad-eyes-6k4 @datenshousan @creezoldyck @1800cokewitch @l4l4j0p433 @carlislecullensgirl @qu3nt1nb00m @stevensimpp @chubbichubb @fariylixie0915 @rhyanna6012 @haocovr @spilltheyeasis @elena-anu @charliesystem

[mshroom1e]

Big Lion, Little Lion | Leona Vignette

I suddenly got the idea and it was too cute to delay writing. I think it's because I wanna see Leona interact with his nephew more or it was because I never got to go to build a bear as a kid and wanted to live my dream through writing. This is less x reader and more Leona and Cheka spending time together, hence the title of Leona vignette- this isn't from the game's canon though, just some fanfic nonsense.

I think I'll write more vignettes and stuff of characters being themselves and doing silly stuff in the future. Anyway lemme shush now bye

type: fanfic

Summary: Leona begrudgingly takes his nephew to Build-a-Bear Workshop. Shenanigans ensue.

1.8k words

tags: cute fluff, bears

Warning(s): none

"Unca!" A tiny voice shrieked happily as Leona was walking through one of the many hallways of the Palace.

He tensed up, a little irritated. The last thing he wanted to do was spend a day of his precious vacation babysitting his bouncy ball of a nephew.

Little footsteps patted the floor behind him as a pint-sized body slammed itself into his legs at full speed. He was almost knocked over at the sudden ambush.

"What do you want?" He looked down at the miniature shaken bottle of coke that had a vice grip on his leg with a deep frown. He was sure his poor limb had lost circulation from the sheer force it was being squeezed with.

"Please, please can you take me to go build a bear??" Cheka pleaded with a huge smile.

The mere mention of the nightmarish establishment caused a chill to run down Leona's spine. He'd seen images of that place on the kid's sticky iPad during dinner time when Checka would always beg to go. The bright colours were sickening and the little critters running all over the place made his blood run cold.

"No." He said firmly.

"Please, please, please??" Cheka pleaded, "Mama and Baba never have time to go with me."

The little inducer of Leona's migraines had a sad frown on his face, the type that seemed to be punching the grown man's brain, forcing him to give in and accept defeat.

A long staring contest ensued. The aide that followed the little Prince around could feel the tension in the air between Leona and the 5-year-old kid. Though, the tension was mostly on Leons's part.

Cheka's sad frown soon got the better of his uncle as he furrowed his brows and rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to accept defeat just this once.

"...Fine," He retorted, averting his eyes with an annoyed frown.

"Really?! Thank you thank you thank you!!!" Cheka almost jumped on Leona's back with a huge smile on his face, "You're the best, unca!"

Leona huffed with a small smile itching at his face. How could he win against his adorable nephew?

-

"We're here, we're here, we're here!!" A shrill string of squealing and shrieking woke Leona up from his short nap during the car ride to the place he recognised as the bane of his existence.

"Q-Quit it, kid!" Leona yelped as his whole body was shaken violently by Cheka who had a vice grip on his shoulders.

"WE'RE HERE!!!!" He screamed once again, this time in his uncle's ear.

This was going to be a long day.

-

The behemoth grew larger as the duo approached. The forbidden land grew in sheer size and power as they grew closer to its tyrannical wake. It was colossal. It was giant. It was a titan.

'Why am I even here? What am I doing here?'

Questions like these replayed themselves like a mantra in Leona's head.

A harrowing aura surrounded the building which was covered in every shade of yellow and blue under the sun. The large logo situated above the entrance adding to its horrifying presence. "Build-a-Bear Workshop" it read. The workshop of the man's nightmares. He could feel the week-long migraine that this trip would bring upon him.

Cheka was practically vibrating with excitement as he approached the gates of the Build-a-Bear Empire with a very less willing Leona. He felt like he was approaching enemy waters as the giggles of other tiny Chekas grew louder and louder.

The laughter and other playful sounds of small children ceased as they eyed the tall stranger entering their territory with a nasty scowl on his face. All he wanted to do was get this done and over with.

Upon entering the store, they were approached by a friendly worker with a jovial air surrounding them, matching the atmosphere of the establishment.

Now that Leona looked at it, everything was smiling and in disgustingly bright colours. The bears were smiling. The pens were smiling. The posters were smiling. The workers were smiling. Heck, even the clouds and flowers pasted on the walls were smiling. Everything was so cute and fluffy and sparkly that it was sickening. Giggles and other squeaky noises that were made by the pint-sized customers rang in his ears, making it feel like clones of his nephew were all running around the store at the same time.

Like a scene from his nightmares.

Leona unconsciously pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. This was definitely going to be a long day.

-

The chipper employee, with a name tag that read "[Name]" lead Leona and Cheka to the first part of the bear-building experience. A space with countless little animals that a kid could choose to make their friend. Leona stood to the side and allowed the employee to be the one guiding Cheka on what he would do. That was his plan, just stand back and watch while the employees handled the little bundle of joy. His plan was going smoothly, that is until Cheka turned to his green-eyed uncle with a wide grin on his squishy face.

"Why don't you choose one too, Unca?" He asked, staring at him with his pair of sparkly brown eyes.

Leona grimaced, mostly unintentionally.

It seemed as if the [Name] also noticed Leona's expression as they added, "I think that would be a wonderful idea!" with a sweet smile that masked a snide smirk that only Leona could see.

He frowned, a little irked at [Name]'s sudden snarky persona.

One look at Cheka was enough to know that the kid wasn't taking no for an answer.

"...Fine."

Leona ended up choosing a hyena with an uncanny resemblance to a certain someone as his new friend while Cheka chose a grumpy-looking lion with green eyes.

The two, along with their Build-a-Bear guide were now situated at the 'hear me' station. They were given the choice to add a sound to their bear and a heart to place inside their fluffy friend.

Leona chose not to add a sound as he would rather not have the fluff ball speak to him while Cheka chose the theme song from one of his favourite shows to go with the lion.

After the sounds were sorted, they moved to what little Cheka looked forward to the most. The Heart Ceremony.

"I've always wanted to do a Heart Ceremony!" Cheka cheered, eager as their guide handed them a heart each.

"Heart ceremony?"

[Name] smiled fondly at Cheka as they began to speak.

"First, we warm the heart up by rubbing our hands together."

Cheka complied enthusiastically, rubbing his hands together as fast as he could so his stuffed friend could have the warmest heart ever.

Leona stood still, unsure of what to do. He was an adult, so he knew the heart ceremony didn't actually bring the stuffed animal to life, but he wasn't one to rain on the little furball's fun so, he held his tongue. He wasn't going to ruin the joy that his nephew felt from participating in the cutesy ritual, but he sure as hell wasn't about to take part. That was, until Cheka turned to him and pushed the heart in Leona's hands towards him.

"It's your turn Unca!" He smiled.

"No way I'm doing that."

"But, if you don't, your bear will be sad," His ears drooped.

"..."

Leona begrudgingly complied and started rubbing his hands together while the heart was inside.

"You have to do it faster or he'll be cold at night!" Cheka instructed, putting a hand on his hip.

"Fine..."

[Name] stifled a laugh as they watched a grown adult being bossed around by a kid who was barely half of his size. [Name] continued with the ceremony with an amused smile that was directed at Leona.

After they had rubbed the heart on their backs, and noses, much to the grumpy grump's dismay, they reached the final part of the ritual.

"Next, you rub the heart over your heart so your friend will always love you," [Name] spoke softly to Cheka and he did as he was told. Leona followed suit, however his rubbing of the heart against his looked more like he was using it to wipe his shirt.

"Finally, we kiss the heart and make a wish!"

Cheka planted a kiss at the centre of the heart and closed his eyes, wishing with all his might.

Leona's face warmed with embarrassment as he kissed the heart shortly after his nephew did and muttered a quick wish.

"Now, we place the heart inside our new friend!"

Once the hearts were in, [Name] took them to the fluffing machine where Cheka was instructed to push a pump to stuff his lion. Once he was satisfied, he hugged the bear and giggled.

"He's so fluffy!"

When it was Leona's turn, he unenthusiastically pushed the pump until his hyena was filled with as much fluff as he wanted it to be.

[Name] stitched up their newly stuffed animals and lead them to where they could dress their bears in outfits of their choice.

Surprisingly, the uniforms for NRC were available on one of the special edition lines of outfits. Leona chose a Savanaclaw version of the school uniform to dress his hyena up in and even chose a pair of beige sneakers to complete the outfit.

On the other hand, Cheka chose an orange t-shirt and a pair of overalls to go on his new friend.

The last station was where they would name and register their stuffed animals. Soon enough, a computer printed out two birth certificates for the uncle-nephew duo to take home with them after they had paid (out of Leona's wallet).

Leona chose the name "Ruggie" for his stuffed hyena but would keep that to himself or he would never hear the end of it from the actual Ruggie. Cheka decided to name his little lion "Unca" after his favourite uncle.

The animals were placed in little house-shaped boxes and they could finally be taken home.

They waved goodbye to [Name] and the younger lion thanked them for helping them with their animals.

Cheka was over the moon as he skipped out of the store with the lion's cardboard box house in one hand and holding his uncle's hand with the other.

"Thank you, unca! You're the best!" Cheka grinned, squeezing Leona's hand happily.

"Hmph," He huffed and looked away to mask the small smile on his face.

~

Bonus:

"Leonaaaa, you need to quit tossing your stuff around like this when we come back to the dorm," Ruggie groaned as he picked up the stay bits of clothing that spilt out of Leona's suitcase after he tossed it on the floor and dove into his bed upon entering his room, "No wonder its always a mess."

"I've got you to clean it up anyways so who cares?" Leona replied, half asleep, his ear twitching as he yawned.

"And you wonder why I'm always complaining..." Ruggie muttered under his breath.

He paused in picking up one of Leona's shirts when his eyes landed on a stuffed animal peeking out of the box.

"Shishishi, what's this?" Ruggie snickered and it up, "It looks like... me?"

Leona's ears shot up as he almost lunged out of his bed.

"Ruggie, you better drop that now!"

◁--《

[whositmcwhatsit]

PART TWO

A/N: So, this has kind of unravelled... or unfolded... or collapsed like a... collapsing thing.

It's a silly, spooky, smutty love letter to Elvis, motels, small towns, ghosts, mysteries, and, erm, pine trees, with a ton of Elvis references and easter eggs that I think only I'm sad and nerdy enough to get.

Putting this out into the tumblr void in the hope that someone else might find some enjoyment from it too.

Catch up on Part 1

Everyone had congregated to eat in one of the other guys’ rooms. Elvis was reclined on the bed with his shoes on but wearing an entirely different outfit to the gray slacks and dark blue shirt he had been clad in while driving. Now he was all in black, but the captain’s hat was still in place. 

Cheryl had heard girls outside, she was sure of it. She had even turned up the radio to drown out one particularly shiver-inducing shriek that could have only been made by someone overcome with emotion. From all the racket, she had been sure that she would see at least a hundred girls in a crowd outside. She surveyed the road and the trees beyond, trying to fashion a scenario that made sense. 

After watching them devour their food like a pride of lions over a carcass, Cheryl understood why Elvis chose someone else’s room to eat in if he wanted all his guys around him. She picked at the overcooked meat and nibbled on some fries, but her stomach was too tense to allow much food inside. She had a strange feeling, like she had forgotten something or left it behind, but she couldn’t think what that would be, outside of her poor crumpled car by the side of the road.

Spreading out the paper napkin to cover her largely untouched meal, Cheryl brushed off her lap and fixed the group with a pleasant smile. 

“Well, thank you so much for your hospitality. I should probably be heading back to my room, I’m going to have a long day tomorrow.” 

“You can’t be going to bed yet!” Elvis teased. “It’s early! It’s not even little Billy’s bedtime yet!” The slight man he nodded towards pulled a face and made as if to swipe at Elvis, but was never in danger of making contact, especially after Elvis dodged with a raucous laugh. 

“Goodnight,” Cheryl said quietly to a background of banter and manly tussling. She turned as she stepped out onto the sheltered walkway and gasped as someone brushed by her in a canvas raincoat. 

“Oh, excuse m-” The walkway was empty in both directions. 

Cheryl’s arm still tingled from where the stiff material of the coat had brushed against her skin, but her brain was struggling with the contradiction given by her eyes. She briefly considered turning and knocking on the room door again, but then she caught sight of neon behind the squat little motel office and made a new plan. 

Forty minutes later, she was sitting at a table in the bar/restaurant nursing a martini and some barbecue wings. A couple of the patrons, men in rumpled shirts sitting at the bar, had given her a long look when she had walked in, but they had since gone back to their beers. 

The waitress made conversation with her, saying that she was a nice change from her usual clientele and she got excited when Cheryl explained what she was doing in the area. 

“Oh my grandma had the sight!” she whispered, glancing towards the bar before dipping onto the seat beside Cheryl. “And, you know, my folks said that when I was a little girl, I wouldn’t walk past one of the houses on our block? Just flat out refused to do it. I always said a strange man was staring at me, but there was never anyone there.” 

Cheryl nodded and smiled, eager to keep her companion for a little longer so that she could stay in the warmth and light without worrying about the heavy-set gentlemen at the bar deciding that she needed company. 

“How about here?” she asked, trying to look nonchalant as she blotted barbecue sauce from her lips with her napkin. “Did you ever see anything here? Or at the motel?” 

The waitress scoffed as she lit a cigarette and waved it airily at the barman to let him know she was taking a break. 

“Here? Nothing happens at the Cozy Pines. Just truckers and the odd tourists who didn’t stop in time in Portland but can’t quite make it to Seattle. The same family has even had the place as long as I’ve been alive. Old Bob Rochelle was manager for years until he had a hunting accident by the river. Still lives there though in the old honeymoon suite. His son Steve runs it all now.” 

Cheryl thought about taking a walk over to the office and having a chat with Steve. She weighed up her curiosity about the figure in the raincoat and the screaming girls against the potential awkwardness of the conversation. She could try the reporter angle and pretend she was writing about local history for her college newspaper, that one usually worked without making people stare strangely at her. However, Steve was a businessman, a man whose trade relied on people looking at his establishment and seeing comfort and respite. He probably wasn’t going to be forthcoming about events traumatic enough to leave an echo. 

“Say, did you hear that Elvis Presley is staying at the motel right now?” the waitress asked her. “I don’t know how true that is, but I heard it from Betty, whose husband is the manager. Didn’t sign in under his name, of course, but Steve thought he caught sight of him in the group. I’m going to head over after my shift and see if it’s true.” 

“Elvis? Really?” Cheryl grimaced doubtfully. “Wouldn’t he stay in a fancy hotel in the city? I didn’t realize that times were so tough for him.”

The waitress ground out her cigarette and took out a compact and her lipstick from the little pocket in the front of her apron, reapplying her lipstick. 

“Well, it’s probably bullhockey,” she agreed. “Still, I’m not taking the risk. My high school steady wouldn’t let me go back when Elvis did a show up this way. He was jealous, like all the boys.” She rolled her eyes and twisted the cap back on her lipstick. “I should have gone, the memories would’ve lasted longer than Teddy Davis, I’ll tell you that.” 

Another couple of guys walked into the smoky, noisy interior of the bar as the waitress returned to work. It took Cheryl a little while to recognise them out of their coveralls. A lot of her work involved reading people, taking in the lines and details; she wasn’t much of a ‘big picture’ or whole face person. 

Still, she was a woman alone in a bar and she sensed their interest, their attention on her as they strolled past her table. One of them took a table in the corner, while the other headed towards the phone, hung into a visored cubby beneath a stark bare light bulb. 

A few minutes later, he was standing at her table. 

“Hey, uh, Miss, the Boss has been looking for you. He wanted a word before you turned in.” 

Cheryl smiled into the rim of her martini glass at the play pretend and the subterfuge. ‘The Boss’, ‘wanting a word’. She had half a mind to stay and order another drink, but she hadn’t been lying earlier: it was going to be a long day tomorrow if she intended to get her car at least roadworthy and travel the last few hours to Seattle. 

“Of course,” she replied demurely, rising and leaving some rumpled bills on the table. She waved to the waitress on the way out, followed uncomfortably closely by Elvis’ guy.

Walking through the scrubby boundary between the restaurant parking lot and the motel, Cheryl paused as she took in the sheer number of automobiles now parked outside. There was a large mob of teenagers and even some older adults standing at the foot of the stairs to the second floor and a couple of cops looking bemused beside a tall, lean man in a striped shirt that Cheryl supposed was Steve the manager. They stopped her and Elvis’ friend/employee as they approached the steps. 

“We’re staying here,” her escort informed the officers, shaking his key with the room number etched into it. Cheryl took her cue from him and fished her key from her purse. After examining the fob carefully as if he suspected her of sitting in the woods painstakingly whittling a forgery, the uniformed officer stood aside and waved her on. 

The crowd started to chant as she climbed the steps and she wondered how she was ever going to get any sleep. 

“You go to your room,” her charming companion instructed. “I’ll let him know you’re back.” She unlocked her door and gave his retreating back a sarcastic salute before stepping inside. 

As she turned on the lamp, Cheryl had the strongest feeling that someone was waiting for her. If she had illuminated a figure sitting in the chair beside the dresser, she would not have been surprised, her sense of a presence was so strong, but the light thrown against the walls by the lamp just showed the spartan furniture and its shadows. 

The interconnecting door opened again. Elvis tapped on it once he had opened it and caught sight of her. She had never known anyone to knock as a greeting instead of a request to enter. 

“Come on in,” she said dryly, placing her purse on the nightstand and kicking off her shoes. He did, his vast aura engulfing the room and smothering the sense of that other presence she had felt. She raised her eyebrows as she registered the forcefully bland expression on his face and the way that he seemed to be grasping for words. He was annoyed. 

“Goddamn weasel in the office ratted us out,” he snapped finally. He paused in the center of the room and encircled his wrist with his other hand, flexing his fingers. “Hate that underhanded shit. We’re customers just like everyone else, we deserve some damn privacy.” He shook his head and sighed. “Guess it don’t matter, they always find out anyway.”

“That must get annoying.” She perched on the edge of her bed. “A policeman down there tried to stop me from coming back to my room and I found that irritating enough.”

Elvis thought about it, his thick black lashes fluttering as he blinked. Cheryl felt a little fondness for the way that he seemed to consider her comment so carefully. 

“No, uh, not annoying. Being sold out by that sonovabitch down there gets me heated, but people coming out… I mean they care enough to get in their cars and drive on over here in the cold and dark and everything… I appreciate that. It means something.”

“You’re grateful,” she put in, thinking back to their conversation in the motor home. 

“Sure…” He knocked the side of his fist against his thigh, looking around her room. “Sure. Uh, you know, a couple of my guys saw you at the bar across the way. I tell ya, you gotta be more careful, honey. A good girl like you shouldn’t be going to places like that all alone. People might get the wrong idea.” 

Cheryl’s eyebrows shot up and she had to rein in her laughter when she saw that he was serious. Deadly, earnestly serious. 

“The wrong idea,” she parroted instead, glad that her voice didn’t quaver. 

“Uh huh,” he shifted uncomfortably, looking somewhere near her right knee. “They might think you’re- That is-” He cleared his throat. “You just gotta be careful. You’re lucky you ran into little ole us, really.”

Cheryl’s mind was whirling with responses, most of them sarcastic and some of them resentful, but she discarded them all as he bit his lip and came to sit down next to her on the edge of her bed.

“Now don’t go getting yourself all worked up,” he murmured, fingers grazing her kneecap. “I ain’t saying nothing bad about you, baby. I know you’re a good girl-”

“I’m not that much of a good girl,” Cheryl interjected, putting her hand on one of his thighs. She felt the muscle tense and twitch against her palm. 

Her hand flexed on his thigh as the other ran up his chest and grasped his collar. He wasn’t even touching her and yet her skin was tingling all over; all over. When his hand finally settled on her waist, his thumb kneading into the curve as the heat radiated through her cotton blouse, she let out a helpless moan. Then the lights started to flicker. 

“W-w-well, there’s such a thing as too good,” he murmured, and they both laughed a little under their breath as they drew closer. His lips were soft, full and he used them skilfully like a tool he had mastered.

Most men, at least the ones that Cheryl had kissed, thought of kissing as a trailer for the upcoming feature: tight lips, plunging tongue, unrelenting pressure that she had to yield to.

Elvis’ kiss was gentle, not timid but playful and tender. His lips brushed against hers, nuzzling and massaging. Then he pulled back slightly, tilted his head and she caught the slightest hint of a smile as he parted his lips and his tongue teased its way into her mouth.

With her eyes squeezed shut and her mind otherwise engaged, Cheryl barely noticed, lost in a maelstrom of soft breath and tickling, warm pressure, but, as the bulbs grew brighter, they let out a loud buzzing like a swarm of angry bees. They pulled apart, looking around, and suddenly the lamp beside the bed gave off a loud pop as the bulb exploded and left them with an image seared on their retinas and a cluster of broken glass over the nightstand. 

Cheryl couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened, but she sensed Elvis’ head turn from the lamp to her face and he nuzzled into the line of her throat, his nose cold against the skin behind her ear. 

“Did I blow your bulb too, baby?” he rumbled in a deep bass, and they both broke into giggles. She enjoyed the way he laughed with his whole body, dragging her into it, his arms tight around her shoulders. 

“What happened, do you think?” she asked, staring at the glass fragments as she finally calmed down. 

“Power surge maybe?” He sounded like he was used to objects exploding and the rules of science and technology bending around him. He probably was. “The hell if I know.”

He let out a little boyish moan as he once again buried his face in her neck. The nerve that twitched at the feel of his hot breath went right down her spine and between her legs, which she was already clenching together. 

“I should go out there,” he said, words almost entirely muffled against her throat. 

“You know, the waitress told me that Elvis was staying at this motel,” she told him, angling her head as he nipped at her skin and then soothed it with a kiss. “I said that I didn’t realize he was that hard up.” 

Another huff of a laugh right into the crook of her neck and she had to cross her legs, feeling far from being a good girl. 

“Hard up,” he murmured under his breath as he rose, the emphasis he put on the words made her cheeks rapidly heat like that lightbulb. She tried to busy herself clearing up the mess on the table to hide her embarrassment. 

“Hey Cheryl?” It was the softness of his voice, almost breathless, that made her look up as he turned into the doorway between their rooms. 

“Yes?”

“Can you.. uh, see a spirit around me?” 

Cheryl had seen that same look he was wearing countless times before on many other people, a cocktail of hope and fear, and, just like always, she tried not to disappoint. 

“Well, um, let me see.” She squinted and focused on the empty space around him, letting his handsome face blur and fade with some regret.

“I can’t be sure,” she hedged, “but I’m picking up something, a strong feeling… love. You’ve lost someone you loved very much… No, someone who loved you very much…” She quickly let her eyes zoom in on his face, checking for the tiny tells, tension around the eyes, tightening of the mouth, and movement of the pupils.  

This should have been easy, he was one of the most famous men in the world and every aspect of his life was publicized, but Cheryl had never been much of a fan of popular music. She had never even seen one of his movies.

“You don’t see nothing, do you.” His jaw muscle flexed as he turned away and she thought she glimpsed a sheen in his eyes, but he was blinking very rapidly. “I-I guess I knew you wouldn’t. I don’t feel-” He shot her a fast, rueful smile and crinkled his eyes. It was the smile of someone who was always careful not to make people uncomfortable with their emotions. More than the promise of money, this made her want to tell him comforting lies. 

“I don’t always see what’s there, not straight away,” she said. “Especially if the spirit was very close to the person in life. They tend to cleave closer and blend with the aura of the person I’m reading, because they’re cut from the same cloth, so to speak.”

He nodded, that socially appeasing smile still faint on his lips, and she knew he didn’t believe her.

As Cheryl was scooping the last of the glass into the wastepaper basket, a communal shriek went up that signaled Elvis’ emergence from his room. Now that she had heard it, she realized that the screams she had heard earlier were not excited, not hysterical with joy and desire, they had been terrified. 

“I heard you,” she said quietly into the stillness of the room. You have terrible timing, she thought very loudly in her head. 

With a sigh, she jammed her aching feet back into her pumps and yanked on her jacket, peering through the net curtains at the window. It was an information gathering opportunity too good to pass up. Half the town was down there milling beneath the window, including cops who might be distracted enough by having to wrangle wailing women that they might answer her strange questions without getting too interested in her. 

It sounded like a carnival as she stepped outside her door. There were car radios blaring the same Elvis songs, presumably the local radio station showing deference to their prestigious visitor. People were laughing and talking and rushing backwards and forwards like they were lining up for rides.

It took a moment for Cheryl to locate Elvis in the center of it. He seemed to have changed into his third outfit of the day before venturing out and was now accessorizing his captain’s hat with a light blue neckerchief. She found herself imagining untying it with her teeth and she flushed even though no one could have possibly known what she was thinking about. 

Nearly all of Elvis’ guys were clustered around him in a knot, a tense and frowning wall of boys that could not have been more in contrast to the man they were encircling, who was grinning and laughing and glowing in the center of them. She supposed they were employed to do the worrying for him. 

Hopping from the last step, Cheryl took a wide arc around the main action and scanned the faces. Finally, she sidled up to a little group of girls who were leaning against a car and giggling over a folded magazine. 

“Hi,” she smiled and tried to look innocent. For some reason, she always had to make that effort, something about her natural resting face always made people suspicious. “Do you know what’s going on over there?” 

“Elvis Presley!” one of the girls cried. “He’s stopped here, of all places, on his way up to Seattle for a movie!” 

“Oh wow!” Cheryl marveled. She was putting on a voice, why was she putting on a voice?! “That’s wild! I love Elvis!” 

“He’s really the most!” one of the girls agreed. 

“I’m just so glad I was listening to the radio when they announced it,” said another. “Can you imagine if we had missed it?!”

“I’m just glad it’s happened now and not when old Mr Rochelle was in charge. My folks would’ve never let me come!” 

Recognition pinged in Cheryl’s mind and she zoomed in on this girl, who was blithely kissing the scrawled autograph on her forearm. 

“Why wouldn’t they have let you come?” She kicked herself for the intensity she heard in her voice, but luckily the other girls were too distracted to notice it. 

“What? I’m not saying they’re true, just that people talked. They said that old Mr Rochelle was…” Even this girl seemed to demure suddenly, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “He was just creepy.” 

“Because of the stories,” the girl replied absently. One of the others hissed:

“Jane!” 

“Was?” Cheryl prompted, wondering how far she could push without drawing suspicion. “He’s still alive, right?”

“Yeah, but he can’t walk. Not after… what happened.”

“Jane, that was just an accident. You are such a storyteller! You should be careful that people don’t start telling stories about you!” 

Seeing them descending into squabbling, Cheryl moved on in case they reconciled by uniting against the outsider who instigated everything. She tried a few more girls, but they were far too distracted by the object of their desire standing in the parking lot to put words together into sentences. 

Finally, Cheryl caught sight of the waitress- She wished she had asked her name- and she wandered over, having to focus on making her steps seem casual and not rushed. 

“Hi there!” she smiled. “Seems like the rumors were true!” Cheryl watched recognition flash in the woman’s eyes. 

“Had to happen eventually!” she agreed. 

“So, have you spoken to the great man himself?” she asked, feeling a little bad at the deception since the waitress had been so nice to her. 

“Not yet. I’m biding my time, it’ll be curfew soon and the cops will chase the teenyboppers out of here. I don’t want to risk having my eyes clawed out before then!” 

“Ha, yes, probably wise.” She shook her head as the waitress offered her a cigarette. “Are you from here originally?” 

“Born and raised. Why? Can you see the hope draining out of my eyes?” Cheryl really liked the waitress. 

“I was just wondering how much you know about the Rochelle family. You mentioned they’d run this place for a long time, and the girls over there were saying there were some stories about them?”

The waitress squinted across the parking lot. “Oh yeah, well, their mothers listen in to the party lines instead of watching television. You know how small towns are.”

“And no girls ever… disappeared or anything?” Cheryl wanted to reel the words back in as soon as they flopped out of her mouth and floundered in the dark, cold, damp air. The warmth rapidly cooled in the waitress’s eyes and Cheryl gave her an awkward, grimacing smile and edged away. 

“Of course,” Cheryl murmured, though all she knew of small towns was what she glimpsed as she passed through them with her family when they were on the circuit.

“I know what the gossip says,” the waitress said shortly. “But Bob was always nothing but polite and kind to me. He gave me my first job as a maid at the motel back when I was in high school.” 

That left only the police, but they all seemed very busy now that curfew had fallen and some kids were trying to defy it, lingering in the parking lot, trying to talk themselves out of having to leave. Cheryl slowly rotated, looking for a younger officer, maybe someone who looked like they had something to prove and would open up to someone willing to be impressed. 

Cheryl’s eyes instead snagged on Elvis, who had glanced up from the crowd of people surrounding him, eyebrows raised inquiringly, almost as if she had called him. He flashed her a smile, not the irrepressible grin she had bathed in back in her room, but the crooked ‘Elvis’ smile that was almost his trademark. She realized she might well have never seen him in a movie or attended one of his shows, but she had certainly seen a performance now. His attention was drawn back to the older ladies who were taking their turn now that the teens had been forced back home, and she finally managed to blink. 

“You should go on and head upstairs now. He’ll be done in a minute.” She flinched at the low voice to her left. 

“Joe, right?” she asked of the man who had appeared at her side.

“He’ll be done in a minute,” he repeated in a flat tone. 

“That’s nice,” she returned, turning away. 

Cheryl’s mother always said that Cheryl’s biggest weakness was her stubbornness. And she was right, but Cheryl was obviously never going to admit that. 

Likewise, she had just been about to head back upstairs to puzzle over this little mystery she had found herself wrapped up in, but now that Joe had told her that she had to, she had to force herself to stand in the cold, dark parking lot until Elvis and his gang went back upstairs. Those were the rules. 

Cheryl made one last attempt to talk to one of the police officers, but after all the excitement of the evening they seemed to have got their fill of young women and coolly told her to be moving along. She risked a glance back and Elvis was still talking, flanked by adoring middle aged fans he had his arms around. 

She rubbed her own goose-pimpled arms and swore under her breath. She was going back to her room because she was cold, she told herself, not because some lackey ordered her to. It didn’t make her feel any better as she stomped up the concrete steps and she kept her head high in case she looked down and saw them smirking at her. Ugh. 

“Who are they to be telling me what to do,” she muttered, unlocking her door and switching on the overhead light. “I’m a grown woman, do they think-” 

Tossing her jacket onto the chair, she looked up just as a girl with a swollen, tearstained face started to run at her, her face contorted by a soundless scream. Letting out a shriek, Cheryl collapsed back against the door and braced for impact, but it never came. She opened her eyes and took in the empty room. 

“Stop doing that!” she snapped, trying to sound like her heart wasn’t positioned somewhere in her windpipe, racing a hundred miles an hour. “I’m trying, okay?!” 

It wasn’t like people imagined, Cheryl didn’t even think it was much of a ‘gift’ as such. There were no silvery silhouettes standing in a line waiting patiently to pass on reassuring words to their loved ones on the earthly plane. And Cheryl wasn’t some mystical disk jockey taking messages and playing them out over the airwaves. 

“This one goes out to Barbara from Rod: sorry for the fifty years of marital neglect, and my will is hidden under the floorboard beneath my easy chair in the den. Next up, ‘Earth Angel’ by The Penguins.”

If only! No, instead it was silent, sepia, mimed mirages and flashy, nausea-inducing replays of trauma and horror. Other times, it was voices that sounded like they were being played at half-speed while underwater in the next room. Her ‘gifts’ had never been intended for use as a career and the more she tried to pretend that she was a worker on a production line, cranking out the latest in comforting and reassuring products, the more they acted up, twisted and turned on her. 

“God gave you this talent,” her great grandmother would tell her in the old tongue, refusing to speak the language of the cursed invaders. “Not PT Barnum, God.” 

Unfortunately, God hadn’t given her any other talents or inclinations she could profit from, so she had been forced to disappoint Granny O’Donahoe, but then poor Granny had been disappointed from the moment she first breathed air in that little stone peat-roofed cottage back in the old country, that was nothing new. 

Cheryl was still trying to shake the icy fear that she had walked into like a fog, or like a fog that had walked into her, and she didn’t hear the knock or register Elvis standing in the doorway at first. She tuned in halfway through his sentence, which was something about an autograph. 

“Sorry?” 

“I said, you went all the way down for an autograph, but you never came over, honey. You scared of me?” 

She forced a weak smile. “No, I just didn’t have any paper… or a pen.” 

“That’s never stopped me before, darlin’. Come on in here and I’ll show you.” He dipped his head, looking at her through his brows with sparkly eyes; his radiant smile half a second away from breaking out across his immaculately made up face. He was a goddamn movie star, standing in her motel room in the middle of a podunk town in Nowheresville. The screaming spirits were the least weird part of this whole situation. 

She crossed the floor and stopped in front of him, still a little shaky. He seemed to see it, rubbing his hands slowly up and down her arms, soothing her even as he was leaning in to shake her up all over again with his soft lips. 

The flat of his hands left the relatively platonic zone of her arms, sliding against her rib cage as he bent her backwards like they were in some romantic Hollywood epic. She gripped his shoulders for balance, feeling his palms travel the outline of her waist and hips before moving back to join in cupping her ass, tugging her against him. 

When he drew back, leaving her gasping for air, all the blood rushed to her face and… other places. She could only stare at his lips, the curves and creases, as he said:

“I’d like you to come into my room. Will you do that, sweetheart?” 

Cheryl’s heart gave a squeeze at the ‘sweetheart’, and the soft, gentle way he said it. That didn’t mean that she was going to make it easy for him though. 

“Why can’t we stay in my room?” she asked. She noticed that he hadn’t ventured any further than the threshold. She wondered if he felt it too, that lingering miasma of terror and pain. 

“I’m doing you a favor, honey, there’s faulty wiring in here or somethin’. You’re liable to get yourself fried if you stay in here.” He backed into his room. “No way, that ain’t how I’m going out, zapped by a thousand volts with my one-eyed peter hanging out.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that quote printed up on a nice poster in the office,” she returned. 

The laughter burst out of him like his body couldn’t quite contain it and he dropped backwards onto his bed, laying spread eagle.

“You are too much, honey, get over here!” He propped himself up on his elbows and wiggled his legs invitingly.

Even as she was ambivalently drifting closer, he snorted again, thinking back on her words. She paused with her knee on the bed and struck what she hoped was a seductive pose, pulling the pins and combs from her hair. It gradually unlooped and fanned out across her shoulders.

A smile, absent and unforced, tugged at the corner of his mouth, even as it was falling open, his bottom lip glistening invitingly. 

With her hair now loose and unencumbered, Cheryl’s fingers trembled a little as she lifted her hand to the lapels of her blouse and began to unfasten the tiny buttons. Yet again, Elvis seemed to sense her trepidation and shook his head slightly, giving her a little closed-mouth smile. 

“Come sit down, honey,” he coaxed, patting the bed beside him. “Let’s get comfy and cozy.”

“As cozy as a pine tree,” they finished together. He winked and nodded. 

“Exactly.” 

She clambered onto the bed as gracefully as she could in her tight knee length skirt and sat beside him, tucking her feet beneath her. 

“See,” he murmured, brushing her hair back over her shoulder. “Ain’t that better?” She was in no position to reply as he rained down warm, wet kisses on her face, snagging her mouth and tangling her tongue with his own. 

With almost painful slowness, he cradled her across the shoulders and gradually let her descend against the pillows, even while his other hand was unbuttoning her blouse.

Cheryl shivered and tried to ground herself, exploring the shape of him with her hands, marveling at the heat that radiated through his clothes, the firm softness of his sides and the sharpness of his shoulders. 

Awkwardly moving his arms around hers, he slipped her blouse off her shoulders and expertly unfastened her bra with a flick of his fingers, his twitching eyebrow and twinkling eyes almost requesting her awe. Instead, she rose slightly, bending at the waist, and entwined her arm around his neck, pulling him down onto her and hearing him moan softly, boyishly into her mouth. 

It took almost all the restraint she had not to rub up against him like a bear with an itch, her core almost aching for the feeling of pressure, a satisfying answer to the throbbing between her legs. She knew, however, that her skirt was too tight to allow her to spread her legs, to entwine them around him as they longed to. 

When he tugged her slightly onto her side so that he could get to the padded button at the back of her waistband, she started to unfasten his shirt, smiling slightly at the sight of the sparse hair curling against his chest. Unable to help herself, she leant forward and licked a strip from the middle of his sternum to the hollow of his throat, moaning as her tongue tingled from the salty taste. She finally got the chance to tug at one end of his neckerchief with her teeth, but all that served to do was tighten the knot and almost strangle him. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” she whispered, as he paused in his task of tugging down her skirt to loosen the bind around his neck. He shook his head, his apple cheeks brimming as he fixed her with a boyish smile, and deftly tied the scarf around her bare throat, using the ends to pull her forward, crushing her mouth against his own. She reached over and grabbed the captain's hat by the brim, placing it on top of her head, letting it sit jauntily over one eye.

Elvis smoothed down his hair with his hands, grinning at her as she struck a pose and saluted. Finally, he grabbed the hat and frisbeed it onto the dresser with impressive accuracy.

“You want your autograph now?” he murmured, voice almost slurred. She gazed without comprehension into his heavy lidded eyes. In response, he drew back and she whined a little, making him huff a laugh as he tugged her up too, the both of them facing each other bare chested and flushed. 

With tantalizing slowness, he traced his nail along the inside of her thigh, swirling and skating across the skin as he signed his name.

“There ya go, now you’re mine,” he murmured, smiling lazily with sleepy eyes. 

“Uh uh.” She shook her head; he mirrored her and pouted

“No?”

“Just that leg,” she informed him, her lips somehow both tingling and numb. “Just that leg belongs to you.”

“Aw man, well, I can’t have that.” His long fingers flicked the top of her panties and she squeaked, but then he scrawled his ‘autograph’ in large letters across her stomach, before doing the same with her other leg. 

“Now, see,” he hummed meditatively, “normally I give out a kiss with my autograph.”

“Oh, you do? Well, then you gotta be fair.”

“Yeah, gotta be,” he murmured, leaning in and missing her mouth altogether. Instead, his lips and the delicious scrape of his stubble grazed the velvety skin of her breast, dragging with delicious sharpness across to her aching, pebbling nipple. 

When he looked up at her cheekily through his brows, his dark blue eyes murky against the shadow of his black eyebrows and his smudged mascara, she started seeing double; it was too much for her mind to comprehend. She wasn’t sure whether she was going to succumb to pleasure or unconsciousness.

He stuck out the tip of his tongue, painstakingly slowly extending it towards her pink nipple as she held her breath and started to see stars. 

“Elvis, please,” she mouthed, her voice almost gone. When he still didn’t take that final step, she tugged on his hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Ow, watch it!” His eyes flashed with genuine anger for a second and she panicked. Her sex-drunk brain was able only to think of simple solutions, so she petted his hair where she had pulled it, gradually increasing the territory of her hands to include his back and his shoulders and his chest. Yet even in her simplified state, she was surprised to see how he basked in the affection, the loving, tender light back glowing in his gaze. 

Finally, he closed his lips around her areola, sucking her breast into the warm, wet cavern of his mouth. She continued to stroke and rub her fingers into his scalp and along the lines of his neck and shoulders as he turned his attention to her other aching breast. 

At the same time, one of his hands began to trail down from where they had both been pinning her hips hard to the mattress, like he had been afraid she would float away otherwise. He might have been right. She felt him slide a finger under the leg of her panty and pause, tracing along the line of her lower lips. 

“Okay?” he murmured, his words damp and hot against her ear as his mouth had moved back towards her head, nipping at the flickering pulse in her throat and the soft line of her jaw. She nodded, exhaling loudly through her nose. 

She felt his finger slide in deeper and her face throbbed as she felt how little resistance he was encountering. What must he think of her, dripping and clenching around his fingers so eagerly, so hungrily?! She tried to look away, craning her neck to try and bury her face in the pillow, but he grabbed her chin with his other hand and pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes still twinkling, but his expression otherwise as serious and real as she had seen all day. 

His jaw was clenched and she could make out the sound of him almost grinding his teeth as he pressed his pout against hers like he was trying to control himself and manage the flow against the flood of affection he wanted to give.

He grunted softly and she heard the clink of his belt being unfastened and then felt the material of his pants rustling and brushing against her bare legs. She was impressed by how quickly and gracefully he had managed to whip them off and was about to tease him about it, when she discovered that Elvis did not wear any underwear. 

Because she was human, Cheryl tilted her head, trying to get visual confirmation of what she could feel, the heavy, velvety length of him poking and prodding against her slick entrance as he adjusted his position over her. Instead, he lifted her leg behind the knee and pulled it tighter against him, like he wanted to feel the pressure of her around him. It meant that her bent legs were encasing him and blocking her own field of vision. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, wiping her hair back from her face with a splayed hand and tickling her cheek and ear with his prickly stubble and lips. “And you feel so good.”

She smiled, wondering if he knew he was talking; there was kind of a mindless automaticity to it, like he was soothing a fretful, wild animal. Her laughter caught in her throat as the pressure increased and a rod of heat slid inside her. 

Elvis froze between her legs, obviously feeling her discomfort in the tension of her muscles as they resisted him. 

“Shhh, shhh,” he murmured, “It’s okay. Kiss me, baby, just kiss me.” He caught her mouth with his and for a moment, he was everywhere and it was too much. It was just too much.

Cheryl wanted to fight him off, to separate them to reassure herself that she could, that there would still be a her left after they were done. Then, her body relaxed and she found herself again, wrapping her legs around his hips, feeling the round curves of his ass against the backs of her calves as she crossed her legs at the ankles. 

Again, she lapped at the line of his throat as he moved over her, nuzzling her nose into the curve of his shoulder, her mouth watering at the musk and the salt and the faint tang of a long-since applied cologne. She explored his body with her hands, enjoying the fact that he was solid and yet soft at the same time, it seemed to fit him somehow. He flinched and let out a muffled squeak as she traced her own autograph down the length of his side. It threw him off his rhythm, but when she whispered into his neck, ‘Now that part is mine.’, his only response was to nod and mumble:

“Okay.” 

Regaining his pace, Elvis adjusted his hips, tilting them somehow and the heavy, warm feeling tingling below Cheryl’s belly began to unfurl, to radiate and to send out sparks. Her toes curled, the insoles of her feet tingled and at the deepest, warmest, fullest part of her, waves of pleasure began to ripple outwards with a rush that was almost painful, it felt so good. She couldn’t stop the moan from tearing from her throat, even though she was also trying to heave in a breath. Her thighs spasmed and clenched; She arched her back, pushing her breasts, already flushed and sensitive from his close attention, against the coarse hair of his chest. She could feel his chest shuddering against as he tried to suck in air. 

Abruptly, roughly, he wrenched himself free from the grip of her arms and legs. More importantly, she gasped as he pulled out, taking with him the warm, heavy feeling of fullness from within her. She watched in bemusement as he stroked himself a handful of times, before wet warmth splatter onto the surface of her belly. 

“Oh God,” he mumbled, his voice soft and high, utterly free from pretense. 

For a minute or two, there was only the sound of their breathing as they struggled to fill their aching lungs. Then Elvis leant down and snatched up something from the floor, handing it to her for her to wipe her stomach. It was only afterwards that she realized it was her own blouse. 

He pressed a hard kiss into her forehead, practically ramming her head into the pillow, and then he climbed off her and grabbed his robe from the chair by the dresser. Wrapping himself in the dark silk, he padded into the adjoining bathroom and she glimpsed his silhouette in the bright light and shiny tile, before he closed the door behind him. 

Cheryl wondered if she was supposed to leave. Was that what all his other conquests did, the Hollywood starlets and the glamorous models? She could well imagine them wrapping themselves back up in their Parisian dresses and fur coats and sweeping out the door. Those types of women probably always knew the correct thing to do. 

Cheryl, for whom this had been her first time in a bed and only her third time with a man, had not quite mastered the classy departure. In fact, she was still wallowing in her inferiority when the bathroom door opened again and Elvis clicked off the light. She wondered if he was disappointed to find her still there, clutching her ruined blouse to her chest and staring balefully at the tiled ceiling. 

Elvis gave nothing away as he climbed back into bed, Cheryl felt the mattress shifting beneath her as he shuffled across to her. He plucked the blouse from her hands and tossed it onto the floor, then maneuvered her onto her side, pulling her back against his robe-clad front. She felt the weight of the blankets being tossed over her and he snuffled endearingly into the crook of her neck as he got comfortable. 

“Mmm, the coziest pine tree in the forest,” he yawned, his minty breath telling her that he had even brushed his teeth in the bathroom, while she was laying naked, sticky and decidedly unfresh in his bed. “Goodnight, darlin’.” 

Cheryl felt him peck the outside rim of her ear and had a frightening rush of tenderness for this stranger that felt more like danger than anything else she had felt, seen or heard that day. Spirits she could handle, ghostly apparitions in her bedroom were hardly uncommon; lightbulbs exploding right next to her was a little rarer, but caring about a boy was a worry. Caring about Elvis Presley was downright terrifying. 

Once she was sure he was asleep and after she had stared in wonder at his profile and taken in the details of his straight nose and pillowy lips, the curve of his chin and the slope of his forehead. After all that, Cheryl slipped from his bed, gathering her discarded clothing to her chest and hurried back to her room. She didn’t bother turning on the light, not wanting to see if a distressed ghost was about to rush her. Instead, she made sure that the adjoining door was locked. 

As she showered, under a trickling, tepid spray, she let her hands follow the pathways that his had taken, scratching at the warm beard rash across her chest, pressing against the slight ache above her pubic bone, her palms flat against her still blushing cheeks. She grinned secretly to herself, thinking about the cresting of that achey, pleasurable wave, her toes scrunching against the slick wet tiles at the memory. 

Taglist: @deniseinmn, @vintageshanny, @be-my-ally, @missmaywemeetagain, @ellie-24, @peskybedtime, @thatbanditqueen , @lookingforrainbows

All of which shattered like a sheet of ice when she heard a shout- Elvis’ shout- loud and panicked- and something began pummeling furiously against the locked door. 

TO BE CONTINUED (AGAIN) (SORRY!)