#the problem with THAT being i have a surface

[calebsmoocher]

Sucking him off while he fucks you with his evol

Being a renowned thief, Caleb knows where to go first when his things go missing: her room. In his search, however, he finds a peculiar, pink, phallic possession of hers. Cw: smut, so MDNI, oral (m receiving), inappropriate use of evol, use of sex toy, girl i tried to put fluff in there

She had a habit of taking things. Well, borrowing, she’d justify vehemently. First it was his sweaters. Turn his back once and she’d snatch the pillars of comfort that got him through the winter.

“You know, I do your laundry as well,” he’d say. She wouldn’t spare him a glance, swaying slowly in her chair. She’d be hunched over her coursework, pen tapping at her lip.

“Yeah? Well why can’t I find my sweater? The pink one with hearts.”

“Now I’ve gotta fold your laundry as well?” He approached her focused form, leaning down to hover above her head. His fingers pinched the fabric of his sweater, the expanse of fabric allowing him to tug on it without the chance of pulling her arm with it. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

“I’m not taking it off. I’m too warm,” she whined, throwing her head back to lean against him. Warmth flooded his cheeks. Stifling a cough, he pushed her head back down playfully.

“I’m not asking; don’t worry. Go back to doing your work.”

Sometimes it would be his headphones. 

“I have to twist mine a certain way to get them to work!” She’d cry.

Or his switch. 

“Oh please, just ten more minutes. I even beat your high score!”

Even on occasion his aerospace textbooks. 

Caleb was rifling through his bookcase, wanting to refresh his mind on his academy coursework. It was only after he cleared the first two shelves when had clocked his biggest mistake being not checking her room first. And there they were, right as his eyes landed on her desk. She had three of them stacked under her monitor.

“You’re just taking anything at this point. Are you sure it’s not because you miss me? Should I also take some time off?”

She’d scoff, handing him the books. “Yes, my eyes miss my monitor being at eye-level. You’re going to be the one massaging me when I have neck problems from hunching over this screen.”

With her constant violations of petty thievery, it was impossible to tell his room apart from hers. 

And this behaviour continued its way to Skyhaven. She was staying with him while on leave at the association. Over her frequent but brief visits, a lot of her items had already accumulated within his house.

Caleb had just returned from an early finish at the fleet. He narrowed his eyes; his house was empty. Had she gone sightseeing without him? Pulling his uniform cap off, he figured he’d start on dinner. Would she even be back in time? Should he call her? He swallowed thickly. He should lay off her; she wasn’t a child anymore. 

He pulled his gloves off and reached for his necklace on the bedside table. But his nails hit the smooth surface, no chain in sight. That was weird. He had placed it here before he left in the morning, the particular fleet mission not allowing him to wear metallic accessories. Had he placed it somewhere else? He wasn’t one to forget where he’d place such an important keepsake. Maybe his table? He turned around before scoffing. Oh. Nevermind. He was ashamed it hadn’t been his first instinct. Of course, she had taken it. Or borrowed it, whatever. 

The first place he looked was her desk. It didn’t immediately jump out at him. Of course, she could have it on, he thought. But now that he was in her room, it’d give him the chance to retrieve any other items she had managed to paw off him. 

He pulled the top drawer of her bedside table out. Score, he thought. There was an assortment of silver jewelry poking out between the ruffles of fabric of one of his favourite shirts. He’d hit two birds with one stone, he guessed. But when he pulled the shirt away his eyes widened, blood rushing to his ears. The pounding echo of his heartbeat was sounding right in his ears. Hidden, poorly under his shirt he’d add, was a pinkish translucent, silicon dildo. And it was rolling side to side in all its thick, girthy, glory. Caleb gaped. This thing was huge. Easily ten inches, with artificial veins protruding from its smooth surface. 

The familiar chime of her placing her keys on the kitchen bench caught his attention with a jolt. He slammed the draw shut.  

“Caleb?” The girl swung her head up at the sharp noise, cautiously dropping her bag. THe noise had come from her bedroom. When she went to investigate, he was standing over her bed, not facing her. “You’re back already? I bought some mushrooms and water chestnuts. How about we make wontons tonight?” Caleb sucked in a breath before turning, slowly. He shot her a smile. As he took her in, there his chain lay, gleaming brightly on her chest. Maybe curiosity really had killed the cat. She followed his gaze and smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I felt like wearing it. I didn’t want it to be lonely.” “You’re cute.”

She reached for the clasp behind her neck. “Were you looking for…” Her voice slowed as her eyes moved over his rigid form. His face was calm, but the tips of his ears were ember. She furrowed her brows, eyes tracing down to his hands. He was holding her shirt. His shirt. The shirt. Her heart dropped. 

No. Why did all the embarrassing shit happen to her? She didn’t have to address this. She’d turn right around and march back into the kitchen.

“You can say your excuses now. I’m listening.” Caleb had straightened up, relaxing from his previously robotic stance. 

Run. Run. That’s all she knew how to do. Because crossing this boundary would destroy her. His jaw tightened in the silence. Was he letting her run away from this? Or was it finally time to address the overbearing tension that had been neglected for so long that it had seeped its way into their every interaction?

“I…” she took a step back. The kiss they silently swore to never talk about haunted her. Had it harrowed over his mind in the same ways? 

She could play it off as not being a big deal. “I’m an adult. This… These things are natural,” she would argue.

“But wrapped in my shirt? I don’t think that’s appropriate.You know my feelings towards you,” is what he’d say in reply. Cold, callous and without the comforting, teasing lilt to his voice. She shook her head, wanting to scream into her fists. There were too many bad possibilities to come. 

She felt the sting of tears brim at her waterline. Fuck. Caleb noticed, mouth opening then shutting then opening again. His eyes were frantic over her form.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I know it’s…” He began to stammer. “It’s…normal to…”

She cut him off. “It’s not weird, right?”

He shook his head slowly. A pause. “Weird that it was…?” At a loss for words, he gestured to his shirt still held tightly in his hand. Wrapped in his shirt.

Fuck. She swallowed thickly.

“Does it mean anything?” His voice was gentle. Cautious.

She shut her eyes tightly. “Maybe.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Is it weird?” Her voice was on the precipice of breaking. She felt his hand at the back of her head, bringing her in for a ginger hug. He laughed softly.

“No, it’s not weird.” He tilted her chin to meet her reluctant gaze. “How often do you use it?”

This time she actually sobbed. “You’re joking, right?”

He struggled to suppress a smile, wanting to shift the heaviness in the room out. “Do you think about me when you…”

Oh, she had had enough of this man. Almost smacking him across the face, she pressed her palm over his mouth. Fuck this was no happening right now. She did not just hear that. 

Her eyes clenched shut as she hung her head. She felt him snicker into her palm and her brows creased.

“I’ve heard you in the shower, you know? Do you think about me when you’re…” She trailed off with purpose and furrowed her brows up at him. It contrasted his sickly sweet smile. 

“Yes, I do.” His smile widened at her gasp. “Always. It’s only ever been you.”

“Caleb…”

He pulled her hand away from his mouth. His hand slid down from her head to her lower back, thumb pressing small strokes into the fabric. 

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, she reached up to gently clasp at his neck, guiding him down. The few seconds it took for him to close in on her strained her breath. His eyes trained on her. The part of his lips and ragged breath that fanned over her own. She didn’t want to bask in it any longer, lest she lost the adrenaline thumping through her veins. His kiss was firm, nothing like the cautious exterior he had been so careful to display. His left hand cupped her cheek, tipping her jaw up to deepen the kiss. She clung to his wrist. 

His scent engulfed her. She wanted to get closer, worm her way right against his chest. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. See if she could elicit a sound so vulnerable from him. 

When he broke the kiss, it was only to begin pressing frantic kisses down her jaw and neck. She gasped, using the moment to gently grab strands of hair at the back of his head, running her nails down to his nape. 

He groaned into her. And she felt a spark in her stomach.

“Will you…” His breath was short as he continued to press kisses into her skin through his words. “Will you show me how you use it on yourself?” He had opened her bedside table again, pawing blinding at the silicone toy. Fuck, he was joking. 

Her face reddened. “Caleb…”

“Am I asking for too much?” He asked genuinely through a laugh. 

She rolled her eyes, feeling the adrenaline plateau inside her. He had left her breathless far too many times in the span of five minutes. 

“I think you’ve done enough.” She pushed at his chest, guiding him backwards. When his legs hit her chair, she pushed him down into it. He laughed through his chest, gleaming up at her with an arrogant smile.

“You have me all to yourself. I’m completely in your care.”

She flushed at his brazenness, slowly dropping to her knees before him. Maybe the adrenaline was spiking again, but seeing him from this new angle had her heart threatening to jump out of her throat. 

“Can I use my mouth on you?” 

His arrogance slipped. He caressed her head again, searching her eyes. “Please,” he said. Gently, weakly.

She sucked in a breath before shakily reaching for his zipper. The whine of the zipper undoing was the only sound besides their ragged breaths. His eyes scrutinised her every move, mouth agape. He helped her drag his pants down, pooling at his knees. He guided her to look up at him again, and they both had a chance to recognise the mutual fear thrumming within them.

“You’re so pretty.” He stroked her hair. “My pretty girl.”

Through his briefs she guessed he was half-hard. She brought her hand up, palming him gently. She had never done this. Was this okay? Was she being too rough? Not rough enough? He sensed her hesitance, encompassing his own hand over hers.

“Like this,” he offered, pressing firmly. His fingers curled around hers, encouraging her to take a confident grip over the fabric. It was hot, and it filled her entire hand. She assumed a steady pace, moving her grip up and down. He let out a shaky breath, and his other hand tightened around the arm chair. She could feel his cock twitch and begin to fully harden. Something in her stomach jumped. Gaining confidence, she tugged at the waistband of his briefs, shimmying them down to join his pants. His cock sprung up against his stomach, beads of precum dripping down a thick girth. She swallowed in anticipation. And placed a fleeting kiss on his tip.

“Fuck…” His cheeks were dusted pink. He leaned forward planting his own quick kiss on her forehead before reaching down between her legs. “Should I help you out as well?” He tugged on her skirt, flipping the fabric up over her ass. His breath hitched as he stared down at her cotton panties. “Are these new?”

If she wasn’t gripping his cock and trying to pleasure him as best she could, she would have slapped him upside the head. “What, don’t tell me you’re a panty sniffer.”

He barked back a laugh. “I think it’s more concerning that you still ask me to do your laundry at your ripe age.”

“Yes, I’ve got the Colonel wrapped around my finger, doing trivial things like my laundry.”

He traced the seams of the fabric, pressing into her skin. “Yes, you’ve got the Colonel entirely to yourself. Will you be good to him?” His fingers followed the fabric to circle at her heat. She gasped. It was hard to keep a steady rhythm as his fingers teased pushing in. Eventually, he settled for drawing gentle circles at her clit; then looping down to tease her entrance through the fabric. “Don’t stop.”

She listened, guiding him into her mouth. She sucked at the tip, rolling her tongue to sweep the underside of his cock. She watched him intently, stomach mimicking all the sharp intakes he did as he shifted in his seat.

“You feel so good,” he whined. The steady motions of his hand were breaking up. But it felt good. Knowing that she was doing this to him. That her cunt was leaking and swollen in anticipation for his fingers. “Good girl,” he choked her, “you’re so good to me.”

She took him deeper, supporting the base of his cock with both of her hands. Her eyes were trained on his. Shaking slightly, she experimented with taking him deeper. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat and she lurched back, gasping for her as he slid out from her.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

She laughed. “I’m okay. Was I okay? Did it feel good?”

He stroked her chin, wiping the saliva from her lips. “You were amazing. You made me feel so good.” He brushed the stray hairs away from her eyes. “Don’t push yourself to take more than you can.”

“I wanna keep going.” She nudged his hand away, taking the base of his cock into her hands again.

“Woah, wait up.” He reached over her towards her bed, grabbing her pillow. “Lift your legs.” Shakily, she let him place the pillow between her and the floor. She sunk down into the plush, her knees buzzing from being pressed into the carpet. 

“Thanks…”

He leaned over her again, and she heard the drag of her bedside table opening. “I think it’s time you showed me how you’ve been using this toy of yours.” Her ears reddened. 

“Caleb, that’s embarrassing.” She tried to grab the dildo from him, but he held it out of her reach. “Don’t you want me to keep using my mouth on you? You said it feels good. I want you to cum.” He remained unfazed by her words, much to her dismay. 

“I really want to use this on you, though. Won’t you let me see you take it?” He studied the obscene phallic item closely. Now that she could see it in comparison to Caleb’s cock, she noted that while Caleb was thicker, the toy was longer. That’s what she got for ordering a size large. 

“What are you going to do?” She mumbled. Her cheeks were still ablaze as she watched him.

“Don’t worry. I have an idea you’ll like.” To her horror, she watched as the dildo began to hover in his hand, held up by an invisible force. It rounded her field of vision until it prodded at the fabric of her panties. She felt her stomach flip. Like the ground beneath had suddenly given out and she was in free fall.  “Pull your panties to the side.”

Shakily, she did as she was told. The rush of cold air almost made her jump until she felt the the cool silicone press against her heat. 

“Your toy is so big. Can you really take all of it?”

She covered her face. She was never going to live this down. “Not all of it. Please be gentle.” She felt him kiss her forehead before lifting her head to meet his gaze. 

“I’ll let you decide. You’re the one showing me how you use it, remember?” Confused, she nodded anyway. She guided the dildo into her swollen cunt, gasping shakily at the intrusion. No matter what she did, the initial push would always elicit a quivering moan. “Good girl. Hands on me.” She expected the toy to slide back out of her once she withdrew her hands but it stayed perfectly in place. Her hands returned to their position at the base of his cock. More precum had leaked out, dripping down into her hands. She suckled on the tip, eager to prevent anymore from making a mess. Caleb groaned, positioning one hand at the back of her head. The other, he held out beside her in a beckoning motion. 

“Mmph!” Her eyes snapped open as the toy began to move inside her. Slowly. On its own. But shallowly. Her eyes caught onto Caleb’s fingers, matching the steady push and pull of the toy inside her. 

“You can hold onto me. Show me how much you can take.”

Mouth full of his cock, she latched onto his hand for support, feeling him tug her fingers back and forth with him. Her index and third finger curled around his own two fingers. And he moved them slowly, bringing them closer to his palm. She felt the toy push into her. When his fingers expanded out again, she felt the toy retreat. 

“Go faster or go slower; whatever you want. I want to see.” 

Tears brimmed at her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Slowly, she maneuvered his fingers faster, fucking herself. His eyes gleamed as he stared down at her. His breath was uneven. He could barely contain his groans from spilling out. Here she was, fucking herself with her secret dildo through his evol. He didn’t know how much longer he could watch before he came.

She moaned onto his cock, the vibrations setting him off with another groan. The salty taste of his precum was all she could taste. His girth alone was stretching her mouth, forcing laboured breaths through her nose.

“You’re doing so well. Keep going. Keep fucking yourself.”

Maybe there was no shame in it. He wanted to see her fall apart. She pushed and pulled his fingers faster. Rougher. Brazenly pistoning the dildo in and out of herself. Her body jolted forwards, forcing his cock deeper in her mouth. She wasn’t sure she could fit more than half of him in her mouth without gagging. 

“Mmmph.” She couldn’t even speak. And his words only pushed her further towards the edge.

“Fuck, you feel you so fucking good. Keep going, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

She moaned in reply. Her mind was going delirious. Her fingers began to falter around his, losing pace of the toy. She couldn’t keep focused on so many things at once.

Caleb leaned down to her ear. “Want me to decide?” 

She groaned in approval, forfeiting control and letting her hand slide back down to his cock.

“Alright then.” The pace of the toy picked up. It was harder and faster, but she could take it. Her legs were shaking, barely able to hold her body up. She watched his fingers strain in their curled position, his frantic want for her to cum amplified through the dildo’s relentless thrusts.

“Are you going to cum?” 

She moaned in affirmation, voice getting frantic. Her walls were clamping down along the toy. To stop it? To keep it from pulling out? She couldn’t tell; all her thoughts had melted down into drool seeping from the corners of her lips. She felt the coil in her stomach twinge and strain as her legs shook.

“Fuck. Come. You can let go. Let go for me.” 

She whined, squeezing her legs together. The next thrust pushed her over the edge, snapping the coil and forcing her legs to squeeze as tight as she could. Caleb slowed his fingers, letting her ride out her orgasm. 

She sucked in a huge gasp of air before lowering back down on his cock. She was determined to have him cum in her mouth after that.

“Fuck. Holy shit,” he groaned. His grip on her head tightened, following her movements as she moved up and down his length. “Stop. I’m gonna cum.” She met his eyes and shook her head. “I’m going to come in your mouth. Please…” 

She gasped. “Do it. I want it.”

He groaned, throwing his head back. He couldn’t stop his hips from bucking, pushing his cock further into her mouth. She tried to swallow the gag, determined to let him finish. He bit his lip to filter out the sound of his groans as he came. Ropes of come spilled into her mouth. Hot and slightly thick. She furrowed her brows, not allowing any to escape. She wanted to be good for him.

He gave a few more weak thrusts up into her before sagging back down into the chair.

“You…” He laughed. His hands came around her face, lifting her off him. “Are you okay?”

She was breathless, forcing a smile through her exhaustion.

“Tired, but okay. How was it?”

“You killed me.” He wiped a hand over his brow. He was still using his evol to keep the dildo in place inside her. “Can I take it out?”

“Yeah. Slowly.” The toy withdrew from her and she winced as she felt the run of warm liquid down her thighs.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out. Despite the mess on both of them, he lifted her off her knees and pulled her into his lap. “Does it hurt anywhere?” She shook her head, leaning against him. He moved in to kiss her, but before he could she frowned.

“You want to kiss me? After all that?”

He shook his head in dismissal, scoffing at her. His lips met hers and he gave her a firm kiss. She felt her cheeks tingle at the sight. 

“Let’s stay like this for a minute. Then I’ll clean ya up, promise.”

She nodded, reaching up to brush his hair away from his sweaty forehead. A silence enveloped them as they caught their breaths.

She shifted in his lap, looking up at him.

“How come you were in my room?” 

He gave her an expression of feigned hurt. “Now I’m not allowed to come into your room?”

Shaking her head, the corner of her lips curled up. “I caught you snooping.”

He kissed her nose. “I think I caught you with something worse, you pervert.” Hell, he was never going to let her live this down. 

a/n: the idea that made me create a tumblr! This has unfortunately just opened my mind to what else his evol might be capable of. 

[alwaysanundertone]

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ tentacles 𖤐 rain&dewdrop ˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; rain and dewdrop’s tentacles come out to play :)))) ❥ warnings; t4t raindrop, tentacles, dew has one, rain has two. cunt, pussy, clit, folds, dick, used for their anatomy, tentacles are girls, so they’re referred to accordingly with fem pronouns ❥ authors note; i hate this n i’m sick so, probably not the best ❥ wc; 2.8k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it’s late into the night when dewdrop roughly types out a text to rain. she wants to play, is all it says but rain will know what he means by that and while he doesn’t really expect rain to be awake at three in the morning, he has to try, he’s desperate 

she has been keeping him awake for hours, writhing around frantically beneath the surface of his skin and forcing pools of slick to soak through his boxers. the problem dewdrop has is, she’s picky, fussy, won’t come out for him ninety nine percent of the time. she wants rain. 

within seconds his phone buzzes lightly against his pillow and something in dew’s stomach twists. checking his phone confirms what he already knows, rain is awake. sure, he’s only sent that thumbs up emoji dewdrop hates but now is not the time to lecture rain on how sarcastic one little emoji can look, he’s, she’s, desperate 

it’s not long before rain is slipping into dewdrop’s room, minutes if that, sending streaks of light from the hallway across the darkened room, “hey,” rain whispers as he locks the door behind him. he sounds desperate too, dewdrop notices, like he’s been waiting for this as well 

“c’mere,” dewdrop whines, one of his hands doing a silly grabby motion at the water ghoul while his other hand disappears down under the waistband of his boxers, his fingers slipping over his stiff clit which is bathed in slick

rain chuckles lightly as he, sort of, hops across the room, shoving his pyjama pants down his legs as he goes. he knows the drill, there’s no point in wasting time. once he’s only clad in his boxers, a pair that look suspiciously like dew’s, only then does he clamber onto the bed 

dewdrop’s thighs fall apart almost instantly, letting rain settle his body between them, “she being picky?” rain asks, still hushed and low given the early hour, as he presses kisses to dewdrop’s jaw. he doesn’t really have to ask though, he can already feel the damp spot on dew’s boxers through his own 

“uh huh,” dewdrop whines and sinks his fingers into the silky soft skin over rain’s hipbones, stretched tight and sensitive underneath the prick of dew’s claws, “make her come out,” he all but begs, too driven with need to care about how pathetic he sounds 

“yeah, okay,” rain sighs, hovering to brush his nose against dewdrop’s for a second before smushing their lips together and then, he starts to wiggle down the bed, peppering kisses over the fire ghouls ribcage as he goes, right over the scarred remnants of his gills 

before rain has even managed to get comfortable between dewdrop’s thighs, the fire ghoul is rolling his hips up and shoving his boxers down just enough for rain to pull them the rest of the way off, dropping them down the side of dew’s bed for him to find in the morning 

there’s a slick wet sound when dewdrop parts his thighs again, spreading his pussy inches away from rain’s face. he’s pretty, his dusky little cock peeks out between his folds and he’s completely drenched in his own slick

“can see her,” rain comments, eyes focused on the smooth patch of skin just under dew’s clit where, beneath the surface, his tentacle is wriggling, threatening to come out 

dew’s fingers thread through rain’s hair, “make her come out,” he repeats, punched out words leaving his mouth as he tries to tug rain closer to where he wants him but rain simply blows a stream of cold air over his cunt, “rain,” he whines with a shiver

ideally rain would take his time, coax her out slowly but neither her, or her owner, seem to be willing to wait any longer than they have to. the skin holding her back has thinned enough to prove dew has been trying to get her out for a while already and rain isn’t mean enough to make him wait 

“c’mon then,” rain whispers and leans in to kiss dewdrop’s clit, leaving his lips coated in slick, “c’mon pretty girl,” he whispers again, though his tone shifts, getting lower as he talks to her 

dewdrop’s tentacle writhes, pressing hard against the membrane standing between her and her favourite ghoul, who is not the one she belongs to. rain gently pets at where she’s hidden, biting on his bottom lip as he focuses 

“she knows,” dewdrop pants, the rest of his sentence failing to come out as his back arches a little under rain’s gentle touch, “she k-knows it’s you,” he tries again, whining high and reedy 

rain can’t help but smile, “she always does,” he sounds a little smug but he’s earned it, dewdrop can’t chew him out for it, “y’gonna come see me?” he asks, her, not dew 

there’s a moment of silence, both ghouls holding their breath in anticipation as dewdrop’s body finally seems to give way, the tiniest little slit starting to spread, “s-she’s, fuck, she’s coming,” dew cries, his fingers tightening in rain’s hair 

“i kn- oh,” rain gasps, his body jerking a bit as dewdrop’s tentacle forces her way out with a splash that drips over rain’s neck and chest, “there she is,” rain coos over the moan rumbling out of dewdrop 

she’s shorter than she once was, thinner too. the transition dewdrop went through took away most of what she was, slippery and pearlescent, covered in little suckers now reduced to scales that are reminiscent of burnt embers, dark on the surface with a glowing orange hidden underneath 

rain thinks she’s gorgeous, dewdrop would argue that she’s not but he never wins. she seeks rain out almost immediately, her few inches curling around his fingers in excitement, she’s missed him 

“feel better?” rain mumbles, to dew this time, though his attention is still on his cunt. gentle scales rub against his fingers and it sort of tickles, he can’t help but chuckle 

dewdrop sighs, content finally, “yeah, c’mere,” he huffs, pulling on rain’s hair to try and get him back up the bed. rain grunts but goes, leaving his hand between dewdrop’s thighs as he flops down on his side next to the fire ghoul

subconsciously, rain’s thighs press together, no subtlety in his obvious arousal for the situation in front of him and the way dewdrop is grinding his hips to push his cunt further against his hand really isn’t helping 

“yours comin’ out to play?” dewdrop asks him through a soft pant, his head rolling to the side on his pillow to look at rain through long lashes, “she wants them,”

rain gives a short nod and retracts his hand from between dew’s thighs, ignoring the whine that catches in the back of dewdrop’s throat so he can undress himself the rest of the way, his boxers joining dew’s on the floor 

“both of them?” rain asks and dew’s stomach swoops low as it’s his turn to nod. it’s not unheard of for water ghouls to have two tentacles but it is extremely rare. somehow it makes sense that rain is one of the ghouls who managed to get lucky 

it’s rarer that his tentacles are better behaved than most too, loyal to their owner and his needs, unlike dewdrop’s fussy little princess. so, as dew pulls one of rain’s thighs over his stomach, spreading rain open and exposing him, the twin set of tentacles in his body seem to get the message 

“fuh-ck, they’re right there,” dew moans as he snakes his fingers down between rain’s legs, tips pressing right under rain’s little clit where he can feel both tentacles waiting patiently, not writhing around frantically like his was 

rain pants a short, uh huh, as he reaches back down to dew’s pussy, still soaked and slicked up enough for rain to rub tantalisingly slow circles over his clit, aided by dew’s tentacle twisting around his fingers 

the speed in which rain’s body submits is almost annoying to dewdrop as he feels the telltale little slit starting to thin and form underneath his fingers, “they’re coming?” dewdrop half tells and half asks rain

“shi-, yeah,” rain whimpers and his eyes flutter shut. his fingers still over dewdrop as he takes a second to concentrate on the feeling, the desperate urge to suddenly have them out weighs on him as he bares down, until

the flood of slick that splashes over everything, always makes both ghouls jump. double the tentacles somehow means double the slick, so, as rain’s girls surge from his body, his thighs, dew’s hand, forearm and his bed, all get soaked in the process 

“fuck rainy,” dewdrop moans, they both do, as his drenched hand gets, gently, attacked by two sets of suckers, latching onto anything they can find, “pretty girls,” 

and they are, they’re both long, thick at their bases and thinner at their tips. they’re a pretty pearlescent colour that reflects pastel pinks and blues and both littered with suckers that can, and will, attach themselves to anything 

dewdrop wrangles them into his fist, sliding the length of them and back down, almost jerking them off and rain keens, his hips stuttering forwards to push his tentacles further through dew’s loose fist 

“come here,” rain chokes through a moan and paws at dewdrop, softly handling his body until dew’s back is pressed flat to rain’s chest, “let me, them, fuck you, please,” he huffs a hot breath over dew’s shoulder 

whatever swooped low in dew’s stomach earlier, does it again, the intensity of it has multiplied though, “yea-, fuck, yeah let ‘em,” he groans, bumping his ass back towards rain, thighs spread and cunt exposed, willing and ready 

having two tentacles makes rain’s job too easy, they’re stacked one on top of the other, joined at the base inside of rain’s body. so, the one on top, closest to dewdrop worms it’s way forwards, slipping between the fire ghouls folds 

the one on the bottom, closest to rain’s drippy little hole, goes right there, curling itself downwards so the tip can circle around his entrance teasingly. they’re well behaved, not perfect 

rain’s hand slips along the back of dew’s thigh, holding it up just enough for his tentacle to explore, “o-oh fuck,” dewdrop grunts, his chin to his chest so he can watch his own tentacle excitedly twisting around rain’s, a filthy press of scales to suckers 

“y-yeah,” is all rain manages to reply, his jaw clenching and teeth pressing together because he can feel everything. the warmth and wetness of dew’s pussy, the harsh slip of scales against his tentacle and then his own cunt, his hole clenching around nothing as his tentacle continues to tease at it, never dipping past the surface 

neither ghoul really wants to take much more teasing but it’s dewdrop who moves first. his hand shoots down between his legs, fingers separating his tentacle from rain’s, “i need it, so bad, just fuck me,” he pants, guiding rain’s tentacle back to where his body is leaking copious amounts of slick

slowly, and at the same time, both of rain’s tentacles push in. one pressing into dew’s body and one into his own, both surrounded by wet, searing heat, “fuck, it’s tight,” rain groans, his head tipping back. whether he’s talking about him or dewdrop is unclear, they’re both tight 

his tentacles seem to hear him and though he has little, to no, control over them, they both seem to get thicker, stretching both ghouls out nicely as they venture deeper, their suckers clinging to all the soft spots neither of them can reach on their own 

“you’re s’big,” dewdrop moans wantonly, his head tipping back onto rain’s chest. he stares up at the water ghoul, who’s panting and squeezing hard at his thigh, “kiss me,”

normally, dewdrop wouldn’t ask for anything, he’d just take but he’s already too far gone to make the effort. he just pouts and tips his chin up, hoping that rain takes the hint 

and he does. rain grunts through gritted teeth as his tentacle buried deep inside of dewdrop presses deeper, right up against the fire ghouls cervix, “could slip right in, you know,” rain murmurs as he presses his lips to dew’s, silencing the whimper he was half way through

it’s a messy kiss, their lips barely touching before they part and rain’s tongue is pressing against dew’s. rain’s hand leaves dew’s thigh, sliding up his body to wrap around his neck, not really squeezing, just holding him still so rain can take, and take, and take 

dewdrop’s hand shoots down his own body at the same time, his fingers slipping over his little dick quickly and in turn, he clenches down, tighter around rain, making the water ghoul moan into his mouth 

“m’not gonna last long,” rain manages to huff between kisses. it’s not exactly a secret, neither of them ever last very long once their tentacles come out to play, dewdrop usually tips over the edge faster than he does though 

rain’s tentacle, the one buried to the hilt inside of himself, mirrors the one inside of dew as they both start to pull out, to the tips, only to fuck straight back into the holes they’re preoccupied with, “shit, me neither,” dew finally whimpers when rain pulls away to moan

both of their stomachs wind tight as slick wet sounds fill the darkened room. every movement of rain’s tentacle drawing more slick from both of their cunts until they’re dripping wet, soaking large spots into dew’s sheets

a particularly harsh press of the tip of rain’s tentacle to the soft little spot inside of him, makes dewdrop frantic, his need to cum rushing to the forefront of his mind, “rain-y, make me cum, please, make me cum on her,” he rambles as his body writhes in rain’s grasp 

the sudden desperation does everything for rain, his own stomach twisting as heat licks at his nerve endings, “f-fuck, yeah, okay, m’trying,” he grunts, willing his tentacles to do all the work for him as he shoves his hips forwards against dew 

they’re reduced to soft pants, soft ah, ah, ah’s, as rain’s girls do their job. they continue to mirror each other, speeding up and curling deep inside of each ghoul, forcing their suckers to softly pinch and pull at too sensitive skin 

dewdrop starts to fuck back onto rain, jerked movements of his hips that make rain grunt, his head hanging to watch dew moving over his tentacle, “she’s getting fatter,” dewdrop points out, only knowing that’s the case as his cunt is stretched wider 

he’s not wrong though, both of them have doubled in thickness, alerting both ghouls to rain’s impending orgasm, if the stream of moans flowing from his mouth weren’t enough for that

“shush, i’m trying to wait, for you,” rain whimpers, tensing his stomach tight to try and hold it off. his hand slides over dewdrop’s hip, his fingers joining dew’s at his fat little clit, both of them rubbing and circling over the sensitive skin 

rain’s thumb rubs at the scales on the underside of dewdrop’s tentacle and that seems to do it. the fire ghouls pussy flutters around rain at an alarming speed, “gon-, oh shi-, she’s gonna make me cum,” dewdrop whines and starts to nod, his wet fingers intertwining with rain’s 

“cum, now, with me, droplet,” rain cries as his orgasm starts to pull through his body, both of his tentacles almost splashing in and out of them both with how wet they are and within seconds, dewdrop follows suit 

they cry out, loud enough to wake up everyone in the abbey as rain’s tentacles pulse inside of their clenched cunts, flooding both of them with thick warm slick until they’re spent and falling limp, almost slipping from their bodies 

dewdrop’s tentacle pulses feebly, a thick string of slick dripping from her, over both ghoul’s hands and onto the sheets, joining the already large puddle that’s formed under both of their bodies 

“m’tired,” dewdrop mumbles once the post orgasm haze has settled heavy in his mind. his body goes lax, his weight pressing back into rain, who rolls them onto their backs

“fuck dew,” rain chuckles, brushing his soaked thumb over dew’s knuckles. he brings them up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to each one, ignoring the slick that covers his lips once more, “gotta change the sheets,” he cringes as cold wet fabric sticks to his skin 

before either of them can move though, they gasp “oh,” and shudder as rain’s tentacles slip free, retreating partially back into their owners body

finally, dewdrop rolls to face rain, a lazy, sleepy, smile on his face as he leans in to press an open mouthed kiss to the centre of rain’s throat, “or, we can sleep in your bed and change the sheets later,” he murmurs 

rain chuckles, “yeah, okay but you’re paying me back” he grunts as he tries to move, the sensitivity between his thighs making him hiss slightly 

“pay you back? pay them back,” dewdrop frowns playfully as he gestures to rain’s tentacles, “they did all the work, they’re good girls,”

dewdrop just smirks as rain shivers at his words, his mind swimming with possibilities to pay his favourite girls back for their hard work

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

lemme know if there’s mistakes, i’m too ill to look right now ♡

𖤐 ghouls masterlist

[hyorijie]

Sorry, I fucked your wife. | Alastor x Reader

Warnings Infidelity, reader is married to a sinner on the rise , before Alastor's disappearance, P in v, Obscenity, overstimulation, Alastor is an idiot, sexual tension, possessiveness, Breeding kink, aftercare, Your husband and Alastor are friends (not for long). Summary Alastor has always been a demon of umpredictable whims, but this time... his interest has gone too far. A beautiful doe has completely captured his attention, there´s just one small catch: She´s married. Of corse, that would be a problem... if Alastor cared...

In the comfort of your home, you glided swiftly over the drink bar, most of the time you didn't drink, but right now the situation warranted it. Your husband had been gone for days and the loneliness consumed you like a slow and cruel disease.

The faint sound of music in the background relaxed your tense muscles a little, a sigh left your lips as you stroked one of your shoulders with the intention of releasing the accumulated tension.

Again you took a sip from the glass, the drink pierced your throat with a warm welcoming burn. Again, you were feeling hot, something very normal from wine.

Your gaze immediately went to the table, where rested that mysterious envelope that your husband had left on his desk, why had he left it that way?

You put the wine glass aside and the base of the glass clinked against the surface.

You walked a little disorientedly to the envelope, you saw that it was open. Curiously you reached out your hand gently until you reached the envelope, your fingers checked the embossing, while your eyes scanned the scarlet seal that stood out against the paper.

Before you could fully recognize the seal it bore, the sound of the door being knocked made you jump in place and let go of the envelope. The paper fell onto the desk and one of your hands went to your chest.

— Shit, who the fuck is that? — You growl to yourself squinting your eyes, cursing under your breath at whoever is behind the door.

With obvious annoyance, you walk towards the door, the moment you opened it, the heat seemed to shoot through your body from surprise.

— Greetings, my dear! May I have an audience with your husband at this time? — The voice that came from him was tainted with too much static, Alastor, your husband's partner was standing in front of you with a wide grin that almost forced you to return it.

You looked him up and down, hoping he wasn't real at this precise moment. But one of his eyebrows rose curiously.

You pulled yourself together immediately shaking your head.

— I'm afraid he won't be able to attend to the request, he's out.— you answered with a superhuman effort, praying to any deity that your voice wouldn't be slurred or cut off by the effect of the drink.

You took a discreet breath, trying to hold your ground as you watched Alastor, who was still smiling with that sly expression that got on your nerves.

— As I told you, he's not here. You'd better come back another time. — you repeated with a slight nod, hoping he'd take the hint and turn around.

But instead, the demon cocked his head to one side and let out a short chuckle, as if you had just told him a charming joke. Before you could react, he took a step forward and, with overflowing confidence, crossed the threshold of your house without waiting for an invitation.

— Oh, my dear, how inconsiderate it would be of me to make you spend the night alone in this storm out there. — he said in a falsely mournful tone.

You looked over your shoulder and, to your misfortune, the sky was still overflowing with disaster. You pursed your lips, holding back the urge to yell at him to get out immediately. However, Alastor was your husband's partner, and the last thing you wanted was to create unnecessary trouble.

With a restrained sigh, you closed the door behind him, turning around with your arms crossed.

— May I ask why you are still here if you already know my husband is not here? — you ask in a dry tone.

Alastor had already settled into one of the lounge seats, as casually as a cat would take over someone else's house. His eyes, lively and attentive, lingered on the glass of wine on the table.

— Well, let's just say I couldn't miss the opportunity to chat with you. After all, we're hardly ever alone. —he replied with a playful air. Then he narrowed his eyes with a spark of amusement.— Although… I dare say it's not the best night for a serious conversation.

A shiver of embarrassment ran down your spine.

— Don't imply nonsense. — you said quickly, in a tone that was meant to be firm, but sounded more like a weak defense.

Alastor let out a light laugh and leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee.

— Oh, honey, don't take this the wrong way. We all have days like that. And if you're going to drink, what better than to do it in good company. — he said with his wide, impertinent grin.— Although, if I'm honest, I'm more of a whiskey man… but I wouldn't turn down a glass of wine if you'd be so kind as to share.

You pursed your lips, trying not to show your frustration. The last thing you wanted was to prolong his stay, but you couldn't be dismissive of someone so close to your husband either.

Resigned, you took the bottle and poured one more glass, pushing it to him with a light tap on the table.

—Here it is.

Alastor took it gracefully and raised it slightly in your direction.

— Here's to an interesting evening. — he gleamed with a glint of mischief in his eyes before lifting the wine to his lips.

You just watched, wondering, not for the first time, what the hell this Overlord was still doing in your house.

The bottle of wine was nearly empty.

You didn't know exactly at what point you stopped wishing Alastor would leave. Perhaps it was after the third glass, when the conversation stopped feeling invasive and began to feel… intriguing.

He spoke with a magnetic eloquence, with the ease of someone who had seen and understood more than he would ever admit. And you, with the warmth of the wine in your system, found yourself increasingly caught up in his words.

— It's amazing how little humans understand about true ancient magic.— Alastor commented, twirling his glass between his fingers with an almost lazy air.— Always wanting to pigeonhole it into books, rituals, symbols… but magic is not something that is locked into written rules. It's a living art, a contract between the one who invokes it and the one who responds.

Your eyes sparkled with interest. You had been trying for months to decipher certain fragments of forgotten spells, but the lack of results had begun to frustrate you.

— So, according to you, the key is not in the exact words, but in the intention behind them. — you said, leaning slightly towards him without realizing it.

Alastor looked you in the eye, as if amused to see you so absorbed.

— Exactly, my dear. It's like a conversation… only with entities that may or may not be in the mood to listen to you.

You let out a short, somewhat carefree laugh.

—And what do you suggest? That I sweeten their ears?

— Oh, some require it. Others, on the other hand, prefer a demonstration of power.— he shrugged.— But everyone, without exception, responds better to someone who knows what they want.

That last sentence left a chill on your skin, though you didn't know if it was because of his words or the way his eyes bore into yours with that brazen intensity.

You ignored him, or at least tried to, taking another sip from your glass.

— You speak as if you know from experience.

— Let's say I've had my encounters with the forbidden.— your tone became lower, more intimate. — But, my dear… What exactly do you want most?

Something about his question made you flinch. Not in the literal sense of magic, but in what he was suggesting with his velvety voice and indecipherable smile.

You tried to deflect the conversation, but then he changed the subject as lightly as he was moving his glass.

— Your husband has been gone quite a while, hasn't he?

You didn't expect that turn of phrase.

— What's that got to do with it?

— Nothing in particular… just that it must be difficult. — he cocked his head, looking at you with mock innocence.— Such a big home, so much silence. I'm surprised you haven't gone crazy with loneliness.

You pursed your lips, unwilling to acknowledge that he was right. Instead, you snorted with a sarcastic smile.

— You'd be surprised how well I get along with myself.

Alastor let out a laugh, one that rocked you without you expecting it.

— Oh, I'm sure you can entertain yourself very well, my dear. But even your own company can become… unsatisfying over time.

You choked slightly on the wine - had he meant it that way, or were you beginning to read too much into his words and that had another meaning?

You looked away, trying to concentrate on the bottle. It was almost empty, and in your head the atmosphere felt thicker, warmer.

But then something caught your attention.

Alastor was still perfectly composed. While you felt the heaviness in your eyelids, the slight tingle on your skin, he didn't seem the least bit affected.

You frowned.

— It hasn't had any effect on you at all, has it?

He blinked, feigning surprise.

— Me? Ah, my dear, wine doesn't have much impact on me. Not like it does on you.

He pointed to your empty glass with a lopsided smile, and you suddenly realized how vulnerable you might seem at that moment.

Your body was relaxed, maybe too relaxed. Your judgment, perhaps a little numb.

And Alastor, with his bright gaze and smirk, seemed fully aware of it.

Alastor set his glass down on the table with a casual motion, but his eyes never left you.

— It must be difficult.— he said, picking up the conversation as if he had never changed the subject.— Your husband, with all his ambition… making ever greater strides up the hierarchy of Hell.

You straightened up in your seat, leaning your elbows on the table as if that would help you keep your composure.

— It's what he always wanted.— you replied, trying to make your voice sound firm.

— Mmm, no doubt.— Alastor tilted his head, his smile barely perceptible. — He has determination. Firm convictions. He knows what he wants and will do what it takes to get it.

Anyone else would have taken those words as flattery. But you notice the tension in his voice.

You watch him more closely.

The way his lips seemed to twist slightly, as if he was pronouncing the words with more effort than necessary. If you knew him well, you would have said he was having trouble admitting it.

— He's loyal. — he added after a brief pause.— A valuable colleague.

You looked at him carefully.

— Yes… he's always been like that.— You smiled, a tinge of nostalgia in your voice. — He was a man of principle even when we were alive. He wasn't always this calculating strategist you know. He used to be… different.

— Different? — Alastor raised an eyebrow curiously.

— More… human. — you said, almost without thinking. — Passionate, but not just about power. He used to laugh more, used to care more about the little things. It wasn't just ambition. There was much more love in him.

Alastor let out a short, almost inaudible laugh. But something in his eyes darkened.

And then, without warning, he asked.

— Do you really love him?

The air left your lungs.

Alastor slowly sat up, setting his glass down on the table gently, as if the conversation wasn't about to cross a dangerous line. He took a couple of steps toward you, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his gaze locked on yours.

— After all this time… after all he's changed… do you still love him? — he insisted, his voice lower, more enveloping.

You opened your mouth, but the words got stuck in your chest. You didn't expect that question. You didn't expect him to ask it that way.

Your heart was pounding, you no longer knew whether from the wine or from Alastor's closeness.

He tilted his head slightly, waiting for an answer.

But you… you weren't sure what it was.

The silence that followed his question was dense, suffocating. But the burn of the wine in your system gave you enough courage to frown, feigning indignation, even as a part of you was still trying to process what you'd just heard.

— What kind of question is that? — you let out with a dry laugh, as if the very idea was ridiculous.— Of course I love him.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his expression barely changed, but his smile… faltered. Just for an instant.

— Yes? — He said in an almost casual tone. — Because you don't seem very convinced.

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could, he tilted his head thoughtfully and continued in his usual silky voice.

— But now that you say it… I find it interesting. You say you love him, but when you talk about him, you mean how he used to be. Not how he is now.

Discomfort settled in your chest.

— That has nothing to do with it. — you quickly rebutted.

— No? — Alastor let out a small laugh, not taking his eyes off you.— I'd say it does. I'd say what you're feeling isn't love, my dear… it's nostalgia. Habit.

The way he said it, so confidently, as if he knew it better than you did, made you boil inside.

— And what the hell do you know about me? About my marriage? — you shot back harshly, standing up with a sharp movement.

Alastor didn't answer immediately. He just looked at you, as if evaluating every detail of your reaction.

And then, without warning, he moved one hand fluidly, sliding it down your side until it rested on your waist.

The contact was an unexpected jolt of electricity. Not just because of the boldness, but because of the ease with which he did it. As if he had always had the right.

You gasped in surprise, your muscles tensing, but before you could react, Alastor applied firm pressure and pulled you to him.

Your breath caught in your throat.

For the first time all night, you looked directly into his eyes.

And what you saw made something inside you curl into a dangerous mix of fear and anticipation.

Hunger.

Desire.

Possession.

A look you hadn't felt on you in a long time.

Your pulse hammered against your neck, your mind struggling to process what was happening. But Alastor didn't move, just held your waist securely, leaning in just barely, as if waiting, as if savoring the moment.

— Tell me I was wrong. — he whispered, his voice vibrating in the air between you.— Say it's not homesickness you feel.

His closeness burned you. His presence filled everything.

But worst of all…you didn't know how to respond.

The air felt thicker, charged with something you weren't sure you wanted to name.

Your throat went dry, and when you tried to respond, your words came out slow, hesitant, as if each syllable would need to be precisely measured to avoid crossing a dangerous line.

— I… that has nothing to do…— you began, forcing yourself to hold his gaze.

But Alastor wouldn't let you continue.

— When was the last time? — His voice dropped to a low, velvety tone, vibrant with that characteristic static of his. — The last time you felt loved. That you felt wanted.

His grip on your waist remained firm, a pressure intense enough to remind you that you were trapped in his orbit.

— When was the last time you experienced something real? Something that would make you feel alive?

You gasped, not only at his words, but because his voice reverberated through the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

No. You couldn't let it go on.

With both arms outstretched, you levered against his chest, trying to push him away from you. But it was like pushing against an immovable wall.

Alastor didn't even flinch.

Your frustration grew, and with it, anger.

— That doesn't concern you! — You snapped, glaring at him angrily.— Who the hell do you think you are to interrogate me like that? Your insolence is colossal!

But he just smiled.

Worse… he began to walk slowly forward.

And you, with no other choice, started backing away.

— You're not telling me because you don't even remember the answer, are you? — He continued, his every word pushing you further and further back.— Because you've spent so much time convincing yourself that you love a ghost from the past, you haven't even stopped to think about how you feel now.

— Stop it! — you demanded, but he didn't stop.

— Tell me… do you really think he still looks at you the way I do now?

His tone was a direct hit to your chest.

And then you felt it. The bar counter crashed against your back.

There was no more room to back up.

Alastor leaned in slightly, just enough so that his face was mere inches from yours, his smile now sharper.

— You know the answer. — he whispered, his fingers barely gliding over the fabric of your clothes, causing your skin to tingle again.— You just don't want to admit it.

Your breathing quickened. Your mind screamed a warning, but your body refused to move.

Because for the first time in a long time… you felt something you couldn't ignore.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the ragged breathing you tried unsuccessfully to regulate.

But you couldn't let him be in control. You couldn't let Alastor think he could push you wherever he wanted.

So you inhaled deeply and let the question slip out in a sharp, direct, blunt tone.

— Since when? — You blurted out suddenly.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile barely twitching, but the spark of interest in his eyes flared brighter.

— Since when, my dear?

You looked at him sternly, your back still pressed against the bar counter.

— Since when did you have me in your sights. Since when did you plan all this. Since when did I become an object of desire for the radio demon himself.

For a moment, his smile widened in a way that made you feel as if you had fallen into his trap without realizing it.

— Clever. — He murmured, his voice vibrating with dangerous satisfaction. — Of course, it wasn't hard for you to notice.

Before you could move, his hand slid with precision to your chin, grasping it firmly and forcing you to look directly at him.

His touch was not rough, but relentless.

— The truth… I don't know for sure.— he admitted, his tone lower, more enveloping.— But I do know one thing…

His thumb glided barely over your skin, an almost imperceptible brush, but calculated enough to make you hold your breath.

— Your husband is a hindrance in the equation.

Your eyes widened in surprise.

— A hindrance that has prevented me from coming directly to you as I have wanted so much. — he added with a softness that was in dangerous contrast to the meaning of the word.

A shiver ran down your spine. The seriousness with which he said it, the certainty with which he admitted it… took your breath away.

Nerves exploded in your chest, and the heat of the wine in your system did nothing to help you keep your composure. But you refused to give in.

You growled in obvious disagreement, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

— We may be in Hell. — you spat, holding his gaze.— but I refuse to give in so easily.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, but did not loosen his grip.

— I don't care what you feel. — you continued, in a tone you meant to sound cold, but which barely managed to mask the tremor in your voice. — I never cheated on my husband in life, and I will not do so in death.

For an instant, Alastor's face remained neutral.

But then you saw it.

A barely perceptible twitch in his eyelid, a shadow crossing his red eyes.

And then, his smile returned.

Only this time, it was tighter. Darker.

His grip on your chin intensified slightly, tilting his face just enough to make his every word feel more dangerous.

— You can say what you want, my dear… but we both know the truth.

— And what would that be, exactly? — you muttered through gritted teeth.

Alastor let out a small chuckle before whispering.

— You always look at me with a different gaze, perhaps, to other people's eyes it may seem like simple disdain… but to me…

Your body tensed.

— And that look was a gift from before I knew I would be your husband's colleague… from before I knew who you really were.

The air in the room became unbreathable.

Because his words were not an assumption.

They were a statement.

One that, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, was eating you up inside.

The air became thick as your mind was swept away without your permission, like a violent current of memories that had been buried until now.

A year ago actually.

You had barely been in Hell for a few months. Everything was an incessant chaos, a spiral of violence and decadence in which anyone could get lost. But you… you were living well.

Your husband had moved fast, establishing connections with powerful figures, making sure they lacked for nothing. And, indeed, nothing was lacking.

Except excitement.

Boredom had slowly begun to choke you. Even though you were in Hell, a place of chaos and madness, the routine had begun to devour you.

So you made an impulsive decision.

For the first time, you went out without your husband's company.

And you ended up in Cannibal Town.

It was as enchanting as it was dangerous. If you ignored the scenes of sinners being eaten alive in some corners, it had a certain intriguing air.

But something else caught your attention.

An enthusiastic murmur arose from a group of women with dark eyes and sharp smiles. They all seemed to be looking in the same direction, their red-painted mouths forming words of admiration and affable greetings.

Unable to help yourself, you follow their gazes.

A demon unlike any you had encountered before. Elegant, impeccable, with that presence impossible to ignore.

He was not a predator in appearance, but there was something about his appearance that made him more lethal than any of the beasts that prowled Hell.

Your eyes widened with surprise, and your heart….

It sped up.

You stood watching him without noticing the time passing, completely caught up in his image.

Until he turned around.

His bright eyes, red as fire, stared straight into yours.

They pierced through you.

As if they had been searching for you.

The air left your lungs in an instant, and an inexplicable nervousness came over you.

You looked away suddenly.

And without thinking, you fled from there.

Your memories scattered and again you forced yourself back to reality.

Your breathing was erratic.

You remembered him.

You had known him before your husband made any alliance with him.

And when your eyes returned to Alastor's, you found something worse than a smirk.

He was nodding. As if he had read your thoughts.

— That's right, my dear…— he whispered with dangerous delight. — From that moment… we both felt that spark, didn't we?

Your throat went dry.

— No…— You tried to deny, but the word came out choked.

Alastor tilted his head, enjoying your internal struggle.

— No, what? — he asked softly, as if he really wanted you to elaborate.

You drew in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to compose yourself.

— It was nothing. It didn't mean anything.

Alastor's smile widened.

— Oh… are you trying to convince me or yourself? — his tone was a venomous whisper, dragging you deeper and deeper into a game you had everything to lose.

— You ran away that time.— he continued, his grip on your chin loosening just enough for you to speak.— But… haven't you ever really wondered why?

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Because the truth was devastating.

Yes, you had thought about it. You had felt something that day. Something you were terrified to accept in the present.

Inside you, the battle was merciless.

Denial.

You clung to it tooth and nail, looking for any excuse, any justification for what had made sense that day.

Intrigue.

That was it. Simple curiosity in the face of someone who seemed different.

Stupidity.

Yes, a passing foolishness. A moment of weakness in a new, chaotic world in which you were still learning your way around.

But not love.

No desire.

No… that.

But the more you dug into the memories, the more the barriers you had so painstakingly erected fell away.

You remembered how you spent weeks in a state of uncertainty, with anticipation growing in your chest every time you went out, hoping - without daring to admit it - to find again.

And there, in the bitterest depths of your soul, the truth waited patiently for you to accept it.

But not here .

Not in front of it.

Fury flared in your gut and, with a spark of courage, you summoned all your strength and pushed him with both hands.

The move wasn't enough to send him away, but it did send him staggering back a few inches.

You, on the other hand, crashed backwards against the bar, feeling the edge dig into your skin.

The air left your lungs in a sharp gasp as your hands shook at your sides.

— Go away. — The words came out harsh, laden with a panic you didn't want to show.— I will not do this to my husband.

Alastor remained in place, watching you with an intensity that made you feel naked, exposed.

But he doesn't move.

— Forget this whole damn circus and get out.

Your voice echoed in the room, but instead of an immediate response, there was a silence.

A different one.

One that didn't belong to Alastor.

It was in your own chest that you felt it first: a tremor.

Not in your hands, not in your legs.

In your heart.

And when you looked up again, you noticed it.

For the first time, Alastor wasn't smiling completely.

There was something subtle in his expression, something imperceptible to anyone who didn't know him.

But you saw it.

His refusal to accept your rejection.And then, without warning, he advanced with a single long stride.

You gasped for air.

His shadow covered you, and the distance between you shrunk to almost nothing.

It was then that he asked the unimaginable .

—Just one kiss.

Your eyes widened.

— What? — Disbelief cracked your voice. Alastor looked down at you, his eyes glowing like burning embers.

— A lasting kiss. A real one.

Your body tensed.

— And if we feel nothing…— he continued with a dangerous softness, — if this has all been an illusion, a foolishness… I will leave you alone.

His voice dropped a tone lower, like a promise.

— But if we get carried away….

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't need to.

The implication hit you like a punch in the chest.

— You're insane — you whispered, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

Alastor smiling, but not mockingly.

— Maybe.

You instinctively took a step back, but the bar was still there, preventing you from escaping.

Refusing was the only option.

But before you could open your mouth to refuse, you felt the touch of your hands.

Not on your face.

Not on your waist.

On your hands.

His fingers intertwined with yours in an unexpectedly delicate grip, and when you looked up, his eyes caught you completely.

There was no longer arrogance in them.

There was something else, something devastating, something you never expected to see in him.

Supplication.

The radio demon, with all his power, with all his overpowering presence, was begging you.

Without words, with his eyes, with his touch.

Your heart gave a brutal flip in your chest.

— Yes… —The word escaped your lips in a barely audible whisper, so fragile you could almost convince yourself you hadn't uttered it.

But Alastor heard it, and that was enough.

Alastor did not rush. He did not advance with the abruptness of one who takes what he desires without waiting for permission.

No.

He approached with exasperating slowness, measuring every inch he reduced between you, giving you the opportunity to flee.

But you don't move.

Don't look away from his gaze, even if the anticipation made you gasp, even if the air around you seemed thicker, suffocating.

Alastor noticed it all, your tense jaw, the slight quiver of your eyelashes, the sway of your chest as the air caught in your throat.

But you don't back down. And that sold your fate.

His hand rose parsimoniously, and the pad of his thumb brushed your lower lip with almost reverential gentleness.

The caress was light, barely a brush, but a violent shiver ran through you. You did nothing when his finger slowly probed it, as if he wanted to memorize its texture, its shape.

You did nothing when he pushed off it with a playful touch, just a slight tug that sent a tingle straight to your stomach.

And when he tilted his face and pressed a kiss against your lower lip, as delicate as a whisper… You closed your eyes.

Praying to whatever divine force that it would end there. That you didn't feel anything.

Because if you did…

If you really did…

You were going to end up in his arms.

But the universe was cruel, because the void he left when he turned away hurt you more than it should have.

You didn't have time to analyze it, because Alastor leaned in again. And this time, there were no distractions.

This time, he really kissed you.

It was soft, leisurely, almost lazy, as if he savored every second his lips moved over yours.

As if he was drinking in something long longed for.

Your fingers clung to the edges of the bar behind you, searching for something to anchor you to.

But when the kiss became firmer, when the heat of his mouth became an irrefutable reality, an instinct stronger than your reasoning took over.

You let go of the bar and, without realizing it, your fingers became entangled in his sack.

It was a minimal, almost insignificant action. But to Alastor, it was the equivalent of a match lighting a forest fire. Because the need exploded in his chest.

And the containment crumbled.

His hands slid to your neck, catching it firmly, and the gentleness of the kiss became something much more ravenous.

You opened your eyes, startled, trying to pull back, to speak, to do something.

But Alastor took advantage of the opening, sinking deeper, and his tongue slipped inside your mouth without warning. A choked moan formed in your throat, drowned out amidst the mess that was now the kiss.

There was no control.

There was no caution.

Only the sound of ragged breaths, soft gasps and the static electricity emanating from your skin.

A tingle ran through your entire body as his hands left your neck to wrap around your waist, drawing you hopelessly to him.

And you…

You didn't stop him.

In fact, it was quite the opposite. Because your arms found their way to his shoulders and you clung to him with the same desperation with which he was devouring you.

As if your life depended on it.

And worst of all… It's that at that moment, you felt like he really did.

The only thing that mattered at that moment was the heat.

The burning that spread through every corner of your body, every nook and cranny of your being, as the wet sounds of both lips colliding echoed through the air with an obsessive cadence. For him, those discordant notes were a heavenly melody, a symphony of desires fulfilled and temptations realized. But to you…

To you they were the sounds of decay, of the abandonment of everything you once thought you could be. They were obscene, the complete opposite of any standards you once thought important. And yet, who are you to define what is right or wrong in a place like this?

He kept moving over you, parting for an instant only to take over another spot on your face.

First, a warm, wet kiss on your cheek, followed by one on your chin, then on your cheekbone, leaving a sensation that added to the volcano burning inside you. Then a kiss on your eyelid, as if he wanted to seal you somehow, leaving a trail of fire on your skin.

And when he stopped on your forehead, he took you completely off guard. It was a soft, tender kiss… but the mixture of his warmth with his closeness made your legs wobble.

As soon as he could do this, he captured your lips again, leaving no room for doubt, the desperate need in his kiss burning hotter than any fire, every second consuming you insatiably.

Now, your hands didn't know where to go.

It was as if your whole body was in motion, touching what it could, clinging to what it found. Your waist. Your chest. His sack , which I had learned to want to feel in your hands. But your fingers didn't stop there, they slid down to her shoulders, running up and down her figure, searching for a stability that no longer existed.

Finally, your hands ended up in her hair, messy, intricate, and the desire to touch those deer ears, those details that only reminded you of her nature, became unbearable. You moved closer, wanting to sink your fingers there, to undo the only remnant of control left in him.

The thought of your husband… evaporated, almost as if it had never existed.

You don't think of him and you don't think of anything else either.

Because all there was at that moment was Alastor. His body, his presence, that electric tension that passed between the two of you, and the feeling that everything was so perfectly right . If you remembered nothing, if this was a new beginning, if Alastor was claiming to be the true lover in your life, you would feel that it could be true, no more questions needed to be asked.

This kiss… this was the only moment worth remembering, and the only truth you had left.

The last thing you remember, through the haze of arousal, is Alastor undressing you with delicate urgency, stripping you of every garment as if he were unveiling a work of art. And then, suddenly, you find yourself reclining on one of the leather seats, being fucked by him in such a delicious way that your moans burn your throat.

You don't know how many orgasms he has brought out of you, but you know you are overstimulated by the violent trembling in your legs and the pleasurable pain your pussy is suffering.

Your moans rise in intensity, tearing through the silence as Alastor rams you with unbridled passion. It's too much for you, that your voice shoots out with a plea.

It's a slow, exquisite torture. You feel the tip of his cock brush against your cervix, that sweet spot where all your nerves converge, and a choked cry escapes your lips. It's a pleasurable pain, an electric shock that makes you buck under his touch, feeling every cell in your body explode in an explosion of sensations.

— There? You like that, don't you? — Alastor whispers, his voice throaty and loaded with a possessiveness that makes you shudder. — You like it when I fuck you like that?

— Yes, there… M-more…— you hiss in a broken, shattered voice, tears in your eyes.

You open your eyes, your gaze lost in the haze of excitement. The world is reduced to him, to the intensity of his dark eyes and the way his body completely dominates you. Fear tries to creep into your thoughts, but pleasure is an unstoppable tide that drowns him mercilessly.

You lunge again like a madman, possessed by your own pleasure, arousal drenches you both and the smell of sex wafts through the room. And the wet sounds force you to roll your eyes back and paint them white.

Alastor, intoxicated by your surrender, watches you as he makes you his. A primal instinct overcomes him and, with a nimble movement, he shifts position. Now he takes you with abandon, with an unbridled ferocity that steals your breath.

He wants to see you cry with pleasure, to see you lose control completely. He demands it of you with words and actions, praising every moan, every spasm, every sign of your surrender. He kisses you voraciously, savoring your taste, and embraces you with a possessiveness that marks you as his own.

As he gazes at you, his eyes linger on your belly. An almost ravenous need invades him, and sharp words burst from his lips, "You're going to be the mother of my children," he exclaims in a throaty voice that runs down your spine. "You're going to be the sexiest mother in hell, sporting my seed."

And seeing that little bulge of his cock in your belly only slowly breaks the self-control he still thinks he possesses. And he grunts when he hears you moan, a long, choppy moan that seems so sweet to him.

Desire consumes him, the idea of procreating with you drives him crazy. Even though that is practically impossible in hell.

— Let me fill you. — he begs with a fervor that shakes you. — Let me sow my semen inside you and create a new life, a life that belongs only to us.

Sighs and low moans came from him as he uttered those words like a mantra, the climax approaching, so fragile you feel it inside you.

Melted and not really you, you look at him with tight eyebrows, clinging to the places of his thrusts and simply nod.

— Come… come inside me, please! — You cry out with heart-rending urgency, pleading for Alastor to bring you to the ultimate orgasm.

— Look at me, my love. — he hisses, his voice a dangerous purr, — watch me as I give you what you crave so much.

Alastor purrs, his static brushing against your skin and ruffling your hair. You, lost and sensing that at any moment you are both going to be finished, bite your lip trying to hold back the screams.

Alastor immediately notices this and leans in, a quick glance informing you what he's thinking.

— Scream… scream whatever you want, precious, just scream how good you feel, how good you take me… fuck — His voice came out raspy, demanding even.

Alastor, possessed by a perverse euphoria, grunts and gasps on you, each lunge a coup de grace against your last defenses. Your vision blurs, the world is reduced to him, to the heat, the salty taste of your own skin and the sound of your own pleas.

The climax hits you like a bolt of lightning. A torrent of heat and light bursts inside you, tearing apart any barrier that remained between you and him. You scream, a wild, primal sound, as your body contracts in uncontrollable spasms. Alastor roars over you, pouring his essence deep inside you, claiming you as his own.

When the aftershocks begin to subside, you find yourself staring into his eyes, your breath hitching, your body covered in sweat.

— You are perfect. — he whispers between gasps. 

As you both recover from your climax, Alastor couldn't help but grab the back of your neck, pulling your face to his to kiss you with a hungry fervor. You accepted the kiss in response, surrendering to the passion still seething between the two of you. And as you kissed, Alastor slowly withdrew from inside you.

The contrast between the wild way he had possessed you minutes before and the gentleness with which he was now extracting his erection was mesmerizing. You gasped as you felt the emptiness in your body, a pang of longing mixed with the satisfaction of the pleasure just experienced.

Alastor contemplated the mess you were now. Your flushed face, your skin covered in sweat and your body freshly sated by his lust gave you a wonderful glow. He let out a static-laden chuckle as he watched some of his cum slide down your thigh.

With his claw, he scooped up some of the substance and looked down at you, a mischievous smile curving his lips. You blushed even more at the sight of the semen on his claw, a tangible reminder of your intimacy.

— You shouldn't feel ashamed, cherie. —Alastor exclaimed, his voice echoing softly. — After all, we have already shared a very intimate moment.

You felt a faint spark of helplessness at his comment, but it quickly vanished as Alastor lifted you into his arms, as if you were a feather.

— I'll take you to a hot bath. — he said, his voice a warm whisper in your ear.— So you can relax and recover.

The aftercare Alastor was giving you melted your defenses, weakening the resistance you were still trying to maintain. Clinging to his neck, you accepted his offer, surrendering to his charm and the need to feel his closeness.

— You're amazing. — you whispered, your voice barely audible.— I don't know what you've done to me.

Alastor smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. As he carried you in his arms, you felt everything around you fade away.

In the depths of the pentagram city, a small establishment, an uncrowded place, was the ideal location for a meeting such as the one Alastor planned to have with his most promising associate

With a cup of tea in hand, he drank it neatly, savoring each sip as if it were the elixir of his victory. The sulphur-laden air and stale tobacco lent an aura of secrecy, a perfect setting for a meeting between men of his caliber.

The tinkling of the establishment's old bell resounded, marking your husband's arrival. Always punctual, always impeccable in his gait, he advanced with the confidence of a man who knows he is well received. He did not suspect, he had no reason to.

Alastor, with his perpetually stretched smile, received him with an elegant gesture. His mood was still high, his spirits renewed after the evening he had spent with you. He still savored the echoes of your presence, the memory of your skin, the timbre of your voice entwined with his on that special night.

— Alastor! — your husband exclaimed effusively, taking a seat across from him.— What a pleasure it is to see you again.

— And mine is even greater! — the demon intoned with his usual theatricality.— I'm glad to see you're still in one piece after your little excursion. I hope it was as… exciting as you imagined.

Your husband laughed, settling in with the ease of one who has good news to share.

— Oh, it was. From start to finish. Mercenaries, small-time demons, ambushes…— your husband exclaimed enthusiastically, pausing before continuing, —Violence at every turn, as expected. But you know what? It was all worth it.

Alastor tilted his head in mock interest, gently twirling the spoon in his tea.

— Ah, Yes? , And what did you find in the midst of such an odyssey?— he asked.

Your husband leaned forward slightly, and in one measured motion, pulled out a bundle wrapped in dark velvet. He held it reverently before unfolding the cloth and revealing his most precious find: a grimoire of infernal magic, its yellowed pages exuding a latent energy, its leather cover cracked and marked with symbols forgotten by time.

Alastor looks at the relic with a lopsided smile, interlacing his fingers on the table.

— Well, well… —he mused, slurring his words in his melodic tone.— It's not every day one stumbles upon a treasure like this.

— No, not every day. — agreed your husband with palpable excitement as he turned the pages with eager fingers.— But here it is. Lost magic, forbidden spells… and one in particular that changes everything.

Alastor did not react immediately.

He simply waited, letting the other man elaborate, let him drown in his own enthusiasm.

— One of these spells guarantees a conception in hell— he declared, his eyes glowing with a feverish intensity. — A pregnancy.

The silence that followed was almost imperceptible, a minuscule space of time in which the world seemed to hold its breath.

Alastor's smile did not fade, but something in his posture changed, a subtle tension in his jaw, a slight drumming of his fingers against the table.

— Oh… what a fascinating revelation,— he murmured with his usual sweetness, gently setting his teacup aside.— And tell me… who, exactly, will be the lucky one?

Your husband laughed with genuine warmth, oblivious to the storm brewing in front of him.

— Who else could it be? My wife.

Alastor felt the air grow heavy in his throat. The timbre of his laughter did not change, nor did the sharp glint in his eyes, but inside him, fury pulsed like a chained beast, clawing, wanting to escape.

No. Not yet.

Your husband continued to talk, rambling on about his love for you, about the future he planned by your side, about the miracle that was within his grasp. His enthusiasm was blinding. He didn't see the way Alastor settled into his seat, nor how the shadow of his smile took on a dangerous tinge.

And then, with absolute calm, the demon exhaled a sentence that split the conversation in two.

— I'm sorry, my friend… but. — said Alastor, his voice smooth as velvet, riddled with a steely edge. —…I fucked your wife.

The sound of his voice, though serene, felt like a thud against the table. Your husband stopped immediately. His words died in his throat, his face paled as if the blood had left him with a single jerk.

— Pardon? — he asked, a shaky laugh seeping between his lips.— I must have heard wrong… that was a joke, wasn't it?

Alastor didn't move. His smile was still there, relaxed, serene. His crimson eyes glowed with dark satisfaction, as if he enjoyed the bewilderment of the man in front of him.

— Dear colleague. — he whispered with a bone-chilling sweetness.— Do I look like someone who jokes?

The light of the establishment flickered over both men. The silence that followed the confession was thick.

Your husband, still incredulous, searched Alastor's face for some hint of mockery, a grimace that would disprove his words. But the demon only looked at him with that lazy and enchanted smile.

— No… — your husband muttered, his voice barely a choked whisper.— It can't be…

Alastor let out a light laugh, full of amusement, and leaned forward with his elbows on the table, interlacing his fingers.

— Oh, but it can. — he crooned with delight.— And it was.

Your husband swallowed dryly.

— When? —His voice cracked slightly. — How?

The demon narrowed his eyes, his smile curving with pride.

— Ah, you want details? — he asked, with a venomous sweetness.— It's funny… I thought certain images would be overused in your mind.

Your husband's jaw tensed, but Alastor didn't stop.

— Although, if you insist…— he continued with mock innocence, stroking the rim of his teacup.— I might say it all began with the allure of loneliness. Poor soul, abandoned by her beloved on such a perilous travel… so, so far away. What was I to do but offer her a little company?

Your husband's eyes grew wide with horror as he realized the truth.

The travel.

The damn travel.

The letter the radio demon had sent him, with a destination that promised only advantages.

It was all Alastor's idea.

All this time, the whole odyssey, all the effort to find that grimoire… it had been nothing more than a distraction.

An excuse.

For the Radio Demon to get tangled in the sheets with you.

The chair slid back with a violent creak as your husband shot to his feet, his face flushed with anger, chest heaving with erratic breathing. He pointed a trembling finger at Alastor, while his other hand clenched into a fist, knuckles white with restrained force.

— How could you…! —he bellowed, his voice rasping with fury. — How dare you betray our alliance like this! To climb into bed with my wife!

Alastor did not flinch. On the contrary, he leaned back comfortably in his seat, raising an eyebrow haughtily.

— Betray the alliance? —he muttered, his tone overflowing with condescension. — I don't know why you're so surprised. After all… she's always been mine.

Your husband's blood boiled in her veins. But Alastor was only smiling. He was smiling as if he had already won.

Alastor brought the teacup to his lips with that infuriating grace of his, but before he took a sip, he dropped one last lunge.

— ¡Ah yes!, and actually…— he paused briefly, enjoying the anticipation on your husband's congested face.— It wasn't on the bed. It was on the couch.

The silence in the room was immediate.

For an instant, there was only the subtle tinkling of china as Alastor finally set his tea down on the wood with absolute serenity.

Your husband, however, felt the last strand of his self-control tear. The vein in his forehead pulsed violently before he let out a fierce curse, his voice so powerful that some of the demons present in the small room were startled.

Murmurs began to run through the patrons, some watching with morbid interest, others feigning indifference as their ears pricked up to catch every word.

— You damned bastard! — your husband spat, his chest rising and falling with furious breaths.

Your husband pointed a trembling finger at Alastor, his other hand clenched into a fist that rose as if at any moment he was going to hurl it at the demon.

— She's my wife!— he spat, rage exuding from every word.— As much as you have taken advantage of my absence, she is still my wife!

Ah, but those words…

Something bubbled up inside him, a dense, toxic emotion that began to seep into the atmosphere like a dark fog.

— Is that so? Your wife…— repeated the demon, his voice a silken whisper.

The teacup hovered in the air for a few seconds before disappearing in a distortion of static, as Alastor's silhouette began to change.

The lights of the place flickered, crackling with irregular frequency. His shadow, which until that moment had remained obedient under his feet, began to lengthen and twist, transformed into a creature with a will of its own.

Little flashes of his demonic form began to manifest themselves involuntarily: his smile, once playful, twisted into something sharper, more predatory; and his eyes, those glowing red eyes like burning spokes, crackled with barely contained rage.

— Ah… — he whispered, rising with an unsettling slowness. — No, no, dear friend….

— She… She's not yours. —he exclaimed, each syllable making the ground tremble beneath his feet.— She never was.

A flash of red and black flashed across his figure. The temperature in the place dropped sharply, and static electricity made the lights flicker with a sickly hum.

The murmuring in the room ceased. No one dared move.

And then Alastor bowed his head slightly, his smile curving into something that no longer looked human, but the ravenous grimace of a predator ready to feast.

— And now..—He uttered in a tone that was almost melodic. — I'm going to get rid of the nuisance.

Your husband barely had time to inhale before the shadows around him began to move.

The radio broadcast, transmitted from high above, echoed in every corner where Alastor's signal could reach. At first, only intermittent static could be heard, distorted like the wailing of a spectrum trapped between frequencies. Then, the screams began.

Heart-rending sounds echoed through the air, where the infamous red demon's radio broadcast was emitting a special edition.

Suffering permeated every note of that macabre symphony, and the listening demons shuddered, some with morbid pleasure, others with a visceral unease that made their skin crawl. But no one turned off the radio.

Alastor's distorted guffaws filtered into the transmission between each interval of screams, each word a mocking echo, a sadistic mockery of the fate of the wretch who had dared to defy him.

And the wretched victim had been your husband.

— What a… lovely evening, my friends! — He intoned enthusiastically, his voice buzzing with a hint of static.— Don't you think despair has such a… melodious ring to it!

More laughter. More pleading in the distant background, fainter and fainter.

Then silence, and then a click.

The program had come to an end.

In the demon's hands rested the grimoire.

His fingers ran over the ancient leather cover, feeling the dark energy emanating from the book. The mere presence of those pages, covered with infernal inscriptions, vibrated the air with a primal power, one he recognized all too well.

His red eyes glowed with keen interest. A spell of conception.

The idea was fascinating. In Hell, damned souls could not create life the way mortals could, but that book…that spell promised the impossible.

Could it be true?

Could there really be a being born of his essence, of his power?

A snap echoed in the air as he closed the grimoire with a firm movement. His fingers drummed on the cover as her smile widened with barely contained excitement.

Well…

There was only one way to find out.

And you… you would be the perfect person in his little experiment.

___________________

Oh god, I still don't forget this series of stories, misfortunes consumed my time and at last I can upload this work. I am sorry forever. T.T

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: What's Your Future Spouse's Best Personality Trait? ✮⋆˙

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How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

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MY MASTERLIST🫶🏻

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⊹₊⟡ Pile I

Resilient & Emotional

Romantic & Deeply Intuitive

4 of Cups + 9 of Wands + 8 of Cups?! Babes, your future spouse has been through the wringer. they are a tough cookie. This is the kind of person who’s faced rejection, disappointments, and emotional letdowns that could make even a main character in a tragic romance novel say, "Damn, you good?" 😭 But instead of being bitter, they’ve built a fortress of emotional resilience around themselves. The 9 of Wands is telling me this person has been knocked down 100 times but got up 101—they don’t give up on life or love, even if they’ve been burned before. The 8 of Cups confirms that they’ve walked away from things that no longer serve them (toxic exes, dead-end jobs, situationships that made no sense—all of it). They’re not the type to dwell on "what could’ve been." Instead, they cut their losses and move forward.

This is someone you can depend on. When life gets tough, they’re not crumbling into a puddle of existential dread—they’re standing tall, supporting both of you. They know how to handle loss, hardship, and setbacks without bringing negativity into the relationship. Instead of complaining, they’ll problem-solve and protect your peace.

Okay, now let’s talk about the Knight of Cups—aka, the walking romance novel protagonist. This person is charm on legs, but in a deep, thoughtful way. They’re not love-bombing for funsies—they actually feel things intensely and express love with heartfelt actions and words. while they are romantic, they also have a depth that makes them super self-aware. They know real love isn’t about grand gestures alone—it’s about emotional connection. So while they might not be showering you with gifts every five seconds, best believe they’ll know exactly when you’re feeling off and how to comfort you without even being asked.

They’ll write you long-ass texts about how much they love and appreciate you🥺. They’re the type to listen to your late-night yapping and actually remember what you said. They have a poetic way of expressing love, even if they don’t try to be poetic, they just naturally speak in soft boy/girl energy. MY TYPE MY TYPE MY TYPE😭

This person doesn’t do "surface-level love." They love in a way that FEELS SAFE—like you can fully be yourself without judgment. No breadcrumbs, no mixed signals—just pure, heart-centered love. Your future spouse is giving "strong but soft" energy. They’re emotionally intelligent, resilient, and romantic, and they don’t play about their love life. They will love you deeply, protect your peace, and keep the romance alive—all while being a grounded, stable, and emotionally evolved partner. ✨ You won’t have to second-guess this connection. They’re mature, romantic, and strong-willed—a whole package deal. 🥹

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⊹₊⟡ Pile II

The "Master Strategist With 3000 IQ" Energy

The "Zen AF, But Knows When to Strike" Energy

Okay, listen—this person does NOT make impulsive decisions. The 2 of Wands + The Hanged Man combo? This is the chess master of life. They calculate everything, they analyze their next steps like they’re planning world domination, and they don’t move unless they’re absolutely 100% sure it’s the right decision.

They’re not the type to rush into things—whether it’s a relationship, a career move, or even a casual Friday night out ("What’s the vibe? Who all is gonna be there?"—yeah, they need to know first 💀). The Hanged Man energy tells me that they take their sweet time weighing all the options, and the 2 of Wands? That just screams "I’ve got a vision, and I’m making it happen."

They strategize, they plan, and when they commit, they COMMIT. They won’t be the type to rush into things, but the second they decide, "Yeah, this is my person," it’s game over for everyone else.

What this means for you? No confusion, no mixed signals – You will always know where you stand. They will plan your future together – And I mean, really plan it. This is the person who will randomly say, "Hey, do you want to move to Paris in five years? I’ve already looked into real estate options. They don’t do dumb drama – If problems come up, they handle them maturely and efficiently (and probably before you even notice). They are your safe place – Because their whole aura just screams "I got this, don’t worry."

This person is unbothered and calm 95% of the time. They have this aura of serenity and wisdom that makes you feel so at peace when you’re around them. But that 5%? That’s when they see someone messing with you, and suddenly, you realize... oh, they could actually destroy a person if they wanted to. 👀

You will feel SAFE and protected at all times – They’re not aggressive, but they are calculating AF. Anyone who disrespects you? They’re already mentally plotting the most strategic way to make that person regret their existence. You get the best of both worlds – A partner who is peaceful and chill, but also deadly if necessary. It’s like dating a hot mastermind who meditates but could also lead an army.

They will never embarrass you with childish fights – They know how to shut down drama with just one sentence ("That’s an interesting perspective. Too bad it’s wrong.") and keep it moving.

WHEW the most FICTIONAL PARTNER EVERRR. This is the type of love that makes people jealous because it’s just so stable, deep, and fulfilling. This person is smart, protective, emotionally intelligent, and devoted—honestly, what more could you ask for? 😭They are the calm before AND after the storm, the architect of your dream life, and the silent but deadly protector who will love you with the power of a thousand well-thought-out strategies. And let’s be real… dating them is basically winning at life.

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⊹₊⟡ Pile III

Hardworking & Devoted

Fearless in love

This pile is the MOST romantic of all three.

Ohhhh, you are about to marry someone who does NOT play when it comes to their goals.This is giving "I put in the time, I put in the effort, and I get RESULTS." Since they’re naturally hardworking and disciplined, they approach relationships with the same level of commitment and strategy they bring to their personal goals.

They’re not the kind of person who gets discouraged easily. If something takes time, they understand that’s just part of the process. They trust the grind, and they know that as long as they keep working, keep improving, and stay consistent, they will get to where they want to be. (The type to be in the gym every day, rain or shine, because discipline > motivation💀.) They’re insanely reliable—if they say they’ll do something, THEY WILL. They probably have a strong work ethic—career-driven, passionate, maybe even a little obsessed with self-improvement.You will never have to second-guess if they’re serious about you, because once they decide to invest in something (or someone 👀), they are in it for the long haul. This is the type of partner who builds an empire with you. This person has BIG main character energy—they embrace life with open arms and are always down for an adventure. They don’t get stuck in endless “what-ifs.” Instead, they’re like "Screw it, let’s do it."

Okay, so here’s the fun part—this person? Totally the type to act all logical and practical, but deep down? THEY ARE A SOFTIE. 😭

Hey do romantic things without realizing it – You’ll casually mention something you like once, and BOOM, two weeks later, they surprise you with it (and play it off like it’s no big deal). Sir/Ma’am, just admit you’re obsessed already.🤓 Their love language is thoughtful actions – Expect things like fixing something before you even ask, getting your coffee just the way you like it, or remembering the exact way you like your blanket tucked in at night. It’s the small details for them.

They have that “quiet but deep” love – They’re not the type to scream “I love you” in public, but the way they look at you, protect you, and always think of you first? UGH. Heart-melting levels of devotion. They are soft for YOU and YOU ONLY – The world sees them as chill, independent, and maybe even a little reserved… but the moment they’re with you? They turn into human teddy bear.

They’d never admit it, but you are their weakness, and honestly, That’s HOT.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog—it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[calypsolemon]

right here my friend! I failed to explain anything about it because i posted it at like 3am when i had no energy, but here's the deets

Post-game, Click Clack finds himself a bit perturbed by... himself. It's his job to edit the story of the world, but the part of himself responsible for that job (the one that manifests as the narrative voice) still allowed for the Inspekta situation to occur, and kept himself ignorant of how he was hurting Thespius with his actions. He knows he could have edited the Story to be more pleasant, if he really wanted to, and he's not fond of the fact that his own self would ignore the pain and suffering of his loved ones for the sake of the world's narrative satisfaction.

So, he begins to edit the problems he and his loved ones experience out of the picture. At first, he simply rationalizes it as all of them needing a break after the Inspekta incident - who wants to deal with life's little inconveniences right after a huge disaster? But as time goes on, he begins to meddle more and more, trying to fix every little thing to be ideal and flawless. Hobbyhoo becomes rather boring in an odd way; every play they put on goes without a hitch, every story idea flows to the page without a need to think, every relationship is in a state of stale bliss. His own relationship with Thespius is seeming just... too perfect, none of those previous miscommunication problems ever boiling to the surface again! (←lying). Slowly, he is bringing the Story of the world to a grinding halt, in order to ensure his friends never get hurt again.

Well, his narrator half is not all too happy with himself for that. It's his job to edit the story of the world, what's the point of his existence if he has no story at all? So, he formulates a test for himself. A small edit is made, a string of Thespius's guitar snaps, sad but easily fixed through mundane means. But this edit is made permanent, etched into the fabric of the world's story. All Click Clack has to do is leave it alone, give up on it when he realizes he can't edit out this tiny hiccup in an otherwise perfect day.

He can't leave it alone.

Increasingly desperate and frustrated, with all his fears reaching a crescendo, Click Clack lashes out at the part of himself who could be so cold as to only care for the Story and not the people within it. He reaches inside, and pulls himself from himself, attempting to wrench control from himself. Instead, what he succeeds in is very nearly severing himself in twain.

Two parts of Click Clack now exist as separate entities in the world, only connected by a single fragile thread. One of them loses his connection to the Story, left devoid of nearly everything he's supposed to embody as a god. The other is being consumed by it, no longer able to regulate how much of the Story leaks out to the mortal world. The latter runs away very quickly in an attempt to keep the Story safely contained, leaving the former to deal alone with the horrified reactions of his loved ones when they find out.

aaaaand thats basically most of what I have so far! feel free to send questions if you want more information, I call this "Pen and Ink au" and will tag any further posts about it as such.

saw everyone was posting their split-up clickers so I'm throwing my hat in the ring

[eyelessfaces]

this little thing has been sitting in my drafts for so long, it's finally time to let it out – you help marc tie his tie

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

buy me a coffee ☕︎

He rolled his eyes, wetting his lips, head tilted and looking at the ceiling. “I know how to tie a tie.” he grumbled under his breath before looking down at you as you untied the messy knot he had just made and had quickly gotten angry at. –He didn’t. He didn’t know how to tie a tie, and he hated having to do it when Jake wasn’t here. Marc was not a patient man, and frankly it suited him pretty well that you had offered him your help, even if he wouldn’t admit it because he was angry at himself for not even being able to do the futile action of tying a tie.

“Do you?” you asked, looking up at him in disbelief. “Have you even ever needed to really dress up and put a tie on?” 

Since you were together, the few times where he happened to need to dress up, he just put on a plain white shirt and a suit jacket and called it a day.

He had needed to wear a tie before. The first time was long ago, and he unfortunately remembered it clearly – when he was a child, for his brother’s funeral, but his father had tied it for him, giving him a weak, saddened smile when he was done.

“I have. But I hate those” he mumbled under his breath, hating the thought of the memory, and you pinched your lips as you tied the fabric around his collar. “It’s uncomfortable and suffocating.”

“Well you don’t have to tighten it all the way up” you declared as you showed him, tightening the knot loose enough so it wouldn’t choke him. “The point is not to choke you, it should just,” you pause, adjusting the knot. “–Hang around your shirt collar, not your neck” You brought his collar down and smoothed it so it sat properly. “Does it feel okay?” 

He pinched his lips, nodding weakly.

“See? No need to get worked up.” you gave him a small grin, and he forced a smile of the same kind, as he sat down on the edge of your shared bed.

“I usually leave it to Steven and Jake” 

This very specific statement always meant that there was something deeper behind, usually something he didn’t want to talk about – it was just the way Marc was, barely scratching the surface of things, peeling the smallest amount possible off his problems. 

“I’ll gladly take the task from now on” you smiled, this smile growing even wider as he rested his hand over yours to lightly, appreciatively squeeze it. “And I’ll happily take it off of you when we come back” you grinned, lightly tugging on his tie with your other hand.

He chuckled, lacing his fingers with yours. “Don’t make me excited to come back already. Or to not go at all” he smirked, the frown over his face finally cleared away. 

—

moon knight taglist:

@scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry 

@mystinky-butt @anightshift @wibblywobblytimesindeed @whatthefishh @grxywindd 

@campingwiththecharmings @bubuslutty @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry 

@jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt 

@friedwings @weasleybuns @luxisluxurious @himesuedi @daisydark 

@violet-19999 @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 

@unear7hly @pigeonmama @c-losur3 @mari-thesimp @klillaah 

@Spicydonut25 @buckyssugarchick

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

My Charlie using aggressive kindness at Angel’s work! Gives his studio a nice gift basket with stuff like lotions, lubricant, intimacy wipes, Ozzie-brand condoms, dankee candles, etc! She’s familiar with good stuff to have for the bedroom thanks to tips from her uncle Oz😉💖 I imagine he probably helped her the most with Sex-Ed.

I can def see my Charlie want to get acquainted with Angel’s work friends, build a good proper connection/understanding with his work life(even though she does not like Val)

She’s also got a second basket with stuff like pest killer, insecticide, bug zappers etc(got help from Niff!) that’s def the more aggressive gift. For….pest problems(Val). I imagine she’d give that one after meeting Val & realizing how much he sucks(atleast surface level/doesn’t realize the rest of the stuff yet & will def be going feral).

I think a gift basket would’ve been atleast a good attempt to try “aggressive kindness” since the canon attempts….didnt go so well(Charlie being inconsiderate of how she was on set & Angel’s feelings & not able to be aggressive enough to go after Val after Angel made her leave/didn’t seem to try to bring it up after because of how she was being prior/causing the fire by accident & also didn’t want her to get hurt, even after everything) ngl there’s a chance she could’ve taken Vaggie’s advice about practicing her authority the wrong way rather than just didn't listen(with how we’ve seen how the higher ups of Hell behaved, maybe Charlie was trying to emulate their kinda authority/makes u wonder what Lilith be like too) would explain why she intitally thinks it’s “so mean”. I actually have more about this. Charlie’s True Intentions

What do u think? What kinda stuff could u see go good for a gift basket? I’d love to know💖

[nabi-unveiled]

Catching Up: Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Ep 3)

Ep 1 React Ep 2 React

So fun facts....I haven't found a place to buy garlic ice cream locally, but there are A LOT of recipes for garlic ice cream on the internet. I do own an ice cream machine. We make homemade ice cream a lot in the summer. I sense an experiment coming up soon.

Anyways, onto episode 3. I am not doing a live reaction for this one. I had to wait over two hours for an oil change and decided to go ahead and watch episode 3. Controlling my facial expressions has never been harder. Although maybe I didn't need to try. Half of the people I know think that I'm a robot anyways. LOL. Anyways, I FELT like I was making a lot of facial expressions because...well just look at them!

There are no more qualms about sharing saliva. I love it btw that Dohoe keeps showing up with his chapstick. These kinds of small details are what make characters seem like real people. I'm known as the person who always have sunglasses (safety glasses really) on my head. No, I don't need them for work. It's just a habit. I'm also LOVING the color-coding. I haven't dove into the posts about this show, but I guarantee there was talk about them being color-coded.

THIS is what I want from a date sequence in a show people. THIS RIGHT HERE. GIVE ME MORE. I said in one of the BL Challenge posts that I frequently fast forward through the dating montages. Because typically they DON'T add any narrative or even show your characters really deepening their feelings. I want dates that FEEL like dates. This was it, and there was ice cream too! I should've just stopped the episode right here.

But alas, I didn't. And somehow, I'll still have to get work done today.

We got confirmation that Sunshine got expelled for fighting.

We got confirmation that Dohoe REALLY hates violence.

On the surface, this line SEEMS sweet. It IS sweet. But it's a bittersweet. Because what Dohoe is admitting is that he loves Sunshine enough to compromise his morals. And just like he didn't want to care to begin with, he will be conflicted about it. It WILL be a problem for him down the line. Because even if you're willing to overlook something, it doesn't necessarily make you feel good about doing it.

And we know that promise will be broken. I knew he would get in trouble for violence before this episode ever started. The foreshadowing has been strong.

Just like the foreshadowing on this line is strong. As soon as they said it, I was like crap. We're not going to be together. Either one or both of them is going to get their plan screwed up royally. My biggest fear was that Dohoe would be the one left behind. Because Sunshine? As much as he SAYS he doesn't have options, he really does. His family may have "abandoned" him, but they are still financially supporting him and calling him every day. Dohoe? Nada.

The watermelon is great here. I LOVE how much food is depicted in this show. This was a cute scene and reminded me that I need to finish my deep dive into soccer/football positions/rules before the next episode of FC Soldout. It also immediately made me think about the World Cup scene in Wild Chives and Soybean Soup.

It's a het drama that I don't recommend. Them as teenagers was great, but the rest was not. I guarantee it has aged poorly. However, I enjoyed that flash from the past. I looked it up. Apparently that drama was 10 years ago. Eesh. The feelings in both of these scenes were similar in that they are very young love and people just not sure how to handle it.

I love that they're training together and having secret meetings in the van. Everything about this feels SO much like what two teenagers in love would do. I squeed internally way too many times.

I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but the amount of food in this series makes me SO happy. Real people eat. Real people making connections eat together. It's probably personal, but eating a meal with someone is a BIG deal to me. Many of my best memories with both friends and my children are over shared meals. Oddly enough - that doesn't include my husband. We don't enjoy the same foods and he eats super quickly. Fine, I'll revise. MOST people build connections by eating together, and these two DEFINITELY do.

Whoever chose RED for the phone understood the color assignment.

This guy has a problem. I'm assuming we'll learn more later about why this friendship went so badly south. Still...choices HAVE been made. Do-hoe is being a lot more civil than I feel he should; however, that seems in character for him.

It was at this point that I knew we were headed for trouble soon. Anytime the word "always" gets used, that's a red flag for me. Plus, look at HOW happy Do-hoe is at this moment. It shocked Sunshine, and you KNOW he was wanting to pursue that kiss further.

I'll be honest. I haven't figured out why we're seeing Sunshine in a school uniform just yet. The bike was when Do-hoe said he could succeed here. The other was in the scene where Sunshine was being beat, and it LOOKED like he was actually holding the Dad back. Was Daddy Dearest going to try to stop Do-hoe from taking the exam? Or am I reading too much into it. Either way, you can tell that Sunshine snapped.

Which led to our frenemies in the snow. Snow has definitely been a running parallel throughout the show. Typically, it's been hope, connection and even innocence. But it feels like the hope has been tainted through this scene. It also feels like this means we're getting a new beginning for these two frenemies. I can't be sure of that though.

My only question here was "WHO THE FUCK TOLD HIM?!?" Let the boy FINISH the exam before telling him anything. Whoever told him - you are on my hitlist.

We got new information that Sunshine was adopted. That's interesting. It could explain some things about why he so desperately wants his parents to be proud, but I don't have enough evidence. It's not uncommon for kids to want to please their parents after all.

This camerawork is SO good. Do-hoe has scared himself. He's seeing his reflection while his dad leaves the shot. It's him and his rage left behind. Plus, he doesn't like this reflection. This is NOT going to go well. Because THIS? This will scare him. He'll begin to think he could become his dad, and that's going to get all kinds of entangled with his feelings about Sunshine. It's real world feelings depicted well.

And now we have HISTORIC cold. And yes, it snowed. But everything is messed up.

And while I generally dislike time skips...

This one feels appropriate. This is when a time skip SHOULD be used. Based on where they were in life, the technology in that time period, and the situation that has occurred, this time skip makes sense. It'll be interesting to find out where they are now in life.

We know Sunshine is smiling. But sunshine characters often smile even when in pain (he's already done that frequently). We don't see Do-hoe. That feels purposeful. In some ways we knew sunshine would be okay. (I'm not saying emotionally okay.) It's Do-hoe, who didn't finish his exam, who had no other options, who is stuck. He's the unknown. Hopefully, he found a way out. But he's going to be scarred either way. I'm hoping now that we've had the time-skip that the rest is them overcoming the past and growing together as mature adults. We'll see.

AHHH. Why do we have to adult? Can't I just take a day off and binge-watch? This is infinitely more interesting than what I need to write this afternoon. Oh well. Bills must be paid.

[agenericplaceholdername]

I agree the narrative frames Arin's decision to go off with Ras as far more negative than anything Lloyd is doing. That being said, I don't think the narrative lets Lloyd entirely off the hook. Ras accurately points out that "sending in one of the youngest ninja, and the only one without an elemental power, into enemy territory" is a bad idea -- and it's during this interaction that Ras is able to dramatically progress his plan to convince Arin to join him, so it's not like Ras is portrayed as wrong. Lloyd later shrugs off Arin's reveal that Wu admitted he caused the Merge, which isn't presented positively as well.

I do think you're right that the narrative could go further. Some decisions Lloyd makes are bad (e.g. never following up with Sora when she says she wants to talk about Arin). He also only puts a token amount of effort toward addressing Arin's sense of worthlessness (he repeatedly tells Lloyd he wants to have an elemental power, he says outright that he feels "useless") and Lloyd's only response is "every Ninja has a different path" and "you're never useless." These aren't harmful necessarily, but I don't think the show pretends these are sufficient and that Arin is in the wrong to not see them that way.

I also am pretty sure Lloyd never says the words, "We'll find your parents" to Arin on screen. (Sora does several times, but Arin blames Lloyd). That being said, Lloyd does send Arin and Sora on a mission whose sole intent is to find Arin's parents. Arin also (pre-S2P2 talk with Ras) states outright that "Lloyd promised we'd find my parents before" (S2, E15). I think it's supposed to be understood that Arin is not imagining some conversation here (notably, Sora, who is standing next to him, does not correct him).

My fundamental point about "decisions in the moment that seem right" is that yes, Lloyd says nice things when he goes to confort Arin. But these actions are all entirely reactive and only operate on the surface level. Lloyd's fundamental philosophy, as he learned from Wu, is to solve problems after they arise instead of preempting them. He's too busy trying to emulate a guy who constantly kept secrets that he's not focusing on how his inaction is hurting one of his students. Providing positive reinforcement only when Arin fails instead of making an active effort even to address Arin's underlying concerns is part of the issue here. I think I'm probably doing more work here to explain this than the story is, so maybe I'm missing the writers' intentions and misjudging where the story will go (and even if I'm right, the narrative could telegraph this better). But if this is the way the story goes, it means that the underlying wrong action is the entire way Lloyd teaches, so that each decision seems right yet there is still a problem and it's not the capriciousness of the universe.

As for wanting to be like Wu being a bad thing, I think the Phantasm Cave scene is probably the clearest evidence of this. As for specific decisions done wrong, I think that S1, E3 and S1, E11 are very clear in that Lloyd tried to emulate Wu and it only made things worse. S2 isn't as obvious -- minus the aforementioned scene that looks the viewer in the face and says "Lloyd is putting too much pressure on himself to be like Wu!!!"

You're right that Lloyd being the green ninja is the reason he's "there in the first place" in that he wouldn't have been a character in the show if he wasn't a ninja. But I guess I'm just confused as to your objection to his "main character energy" if, while the stuff he does is emphasized, so is everything Arin and Sora are doing? Yeah he's "the conduit" so there's a storyline around his visions in S2P1, but Arin's having a parallel story about his insecurity. Arin and Sora have more to do in S2P2 and arguably most of S1 as well. I guess his stuff is "cosmically important" or something but it's not narratively more important (also despite the cosmic importance of him getting back into the games after his fight with Zeatrix, he loses and it's up to Sora to win).

Maybe this is similar to Lloyd's S9 story, but I also think Lloyd's S9 story actually has a problem in that Lloyd claims that post-Harumi betrayal, he's no longer willing to look for the best in people (S8, E8). Yes, Lloyd loses his faith in himself after this (and also after losing to Garmadon and seemingly losing most of his friends), but at no point does he become more distrustful of others, which does seem like something that makes sense (S11 sorta goes into this w/ Akita). DR's story makes more sense in that Lloyd's only pressure is self-imposed because it's not coming after a betrayal or anything but after he was left alone, not knowing if anyone he knew (minus Kai) was even alive, for years. That level of mental strain probably wasn't great for him. Meanwhile, while Lloyd learns to rally the people, that plot line ends 3 episodes into Hunted, while DR is continuing the Master Lloyd stuff. Basically - it's okay to do a similar story without retreading all the ground (no Garmadon) if you execute it differently and focus on different things.

I think the dream scenario would probably need...

^ I agree with everything in this paragraph.

I agree Kai helps contribute to more positive character growth in Wyldfyre than Lloyd does with Arin, and his effect on Sora is more indirect. That being said, while Kai might be good at imparting character building lessons, that doesn't make him better at teaching things like Spinjitzu (one of the key reasons Arin lost trust in Lloyd).

Maybe Lloyd just shouldn't be a master.

He's clearly not very good at it. He's been trying it since season 5, and his first real students both take FOREVER to make any progress. Sora takes a whole season to unlock her powers, but apparently isn't taught spinjitzu in any of that time- the literal first thing we see taught to any of our characters in the original show. Arin somehow makes backwards progress with Lloyd, and then after doing like three poses with his friend seems to get it instantly.

Like... seems like he's just not very good at teaching. Maybe he should hand the position over to Kai, he's got a natural knack for it, a lot more experience, and a much higher success rate as far as I'm concerned. Master Kai for the win.

[funky-solaris-time]

I swear ever other Warframe update causes people to loose all functional brain cells.

No Velimir and Minerva being in cis marriage does not make them straight. No Liger not having input on Velimir as a character isn’t an insult or proof of bigotry.

Kaya is not “anime bait”. Kaya being alt history Filipino isn’t like, racially motivated.

Minerva having an alcohol problem is not a wine aunt meme, or an insulting commentary on alcoholism in Europe.

The update isn’t out yet, and additionally: this toxic desire to consume media purely based on data, instead of thinking about implications (I:e maybe Velimir and Minerva are having a troubled marriage because of their sexualities? We don’t fully know yet!) and emotions is toxic. Stories and characters aren’t bullet points, they aren’t checks and balances. They are experiences. Let yourself live through them instead of getting mad when you Surface level deduction isn’t correct.

This goes especially for unreleased content.

[ravenxbones]

i did this almost as quickly as humanly possible and my pen pressure is acting up because i need to replace the tip but i can never resist a good funpoison drawing. happy new year this is inspired by @spraypaintstainonawhitewall ‘s post here

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (page 82-85)

THAT LAZYBONES!!

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[baymaxmuses]

He'd never admit it openly, but being referred to as her favorite thing really made this echidna feel special. Knuckles wasn't used to the attention, but... it was certainly not unwanted.

Why was is hard for him to accept that he deserved this feeling? Perhaps it had something to do with the preconceived notion that living here on this island, alone, defending an ancient artifact that his ancestors had literally thrown their lives away to acquire, was karma for their bloody avarice...

Thoughts he saved for later. Troubles that he didn't want to bother Rouge with. She had her own fair share of problems, she didn't have to deal with his on top of it.

The suggestion about the Emerald made him scoff, but not because of the reason she might think.

"I honestly wouldn't recommend laying on the Master Emerald for comfort. It's a hard, flat surface... And besides, I feel like if we made out on top of it, the ancients might crawl out of their graves and make us suffer. I know for sure that the Emerald's spectral overseer wouldn't be happy to witness such sacrilege. But I can think of a nice place on the island for us to... get better acquainted... Follow me."

With a mighty leap, Knuckles hurdled into the sky, and flew off west, about a few hundred feet from their spot near the Master Emerald's shrine, towards what looked like... a little bungalow. He hadn't shown anybody the little home he'd made for himself on Angel Island, but the idea of living in any of the crumbling structures that dotted the floating landmass in the sky felt disrespectful. He felt they should stay vacant, as they were inhabited by spirits, most likely.

The spot he'd picked was fine, anyway. Perfect vantage of the shrine, good elevation to watch over the rest of the island... and a pleasant breeze.

Watching him was always a delight, especially when he was thinking really hard! She could almost see the gears in his head turning, and churning in his skull. She always found that confusion on his face strangely attractive. Yet she did wonder what was running through that brain of his at times, now more then ever she pondered what his thoughts might have been.

Yet her thoughts were on that handsome mug of his, those pretty eyes that reminded her of the grapes he loved so much. She sometimes wondered if he had some secret grape grove or maybe he bribed that fox to bring him his favorite treat. Though, maybe she'd just have to start bringing some to bribe him with--- an easy way to any man's heart was through his stomach. A Lesson her fool of a mother told her but one that was ever so true.

She found herself smirking at his response as she leaned in a little bit closer till her lips were almost touching his.

" Oh, is that what you are worried about Handsome? Like throwing a punch Kissing is something you need to practice to be good at. So don't worry... By the time i'm through with you! you'll be an expert ..."

she purred softly like she was a cat and looped her arms around his neck loosely as if she might steal another kiss.

" But maybe we should find someplace comfortable to practice... i bet you know lots of secret little places with a lovely view--- or maybe we could lay atop that Emerald... it is my second favorite thing on this island after all... next to you "

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

finally at that age where i'm thinking i should get a tattoo. not bc i feel strongly about it, just seems like a waste not to. i've got so much skin i'm not using

[xbomboi]

apple: briar, remember when we first became best friends?

briar: only when i’m thinking about where my life went wrong.