#very .. interesting. it got her anger right hot damn

[stressed-and-fluff-obsessed]

Another request by @hatsumiikun Lee!Alastor Ler!Vox I can do that!

Revenge Tactics

Summary: Vox has an interesting idea for revenge against Alastor given the fact that Vox can’t hurt him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ha ha! Better luck next time!” Alastor laughed at Vox as he disappeared in the shadows after a fight leaving Vox busted up. “Ugh. Stupid Alastor! Why can’t I just beat him for once!” Vox yelled, angry with himself as he spun on his heel and stalked back to the Voxtech skyscraper where he worked.

Most demons cleared the path when they saw an angry busted up Vox storming down the streets of Pentagon City but that’s what got him here in the first place. He’d been in a rush on his way back to the tower already when he accidentally ran into Alastor, unfortunately for him the stag didn’t seem to be having the best day…

“D-Do you need help with anything sir…?” Papermint asked meekly as he scurried up to Vox’s side as the Tv demon stalked into the building and towards the elevator.

“No not right now.” Vox snapped at him, getting in the elevator and pressing the button for the top floor, every other demon that was already in the elevator scrambled out of it, not wanting to be in the same elevator as an angry overlord.

“Fucking Alastor just you wait. I will beat you someday!” Vox yelled to himself in the elevator as it ascended up to the floor he needed to be on. Once the elevator arrived he stepped out and very quickly made his way to the observation room, sitting down at his desk and turning on the camera’s to monitor the hotel.

“Come on where is he…” Vox muttered to himself, searching through the camera footage trying to find something on a clear view of the radio demon but every clip that would’ve had him in it the figure was covered in blurry static making it impossible to see, Alastor’s doing once again.

The air in the observatory started sparking, glowing a light blue as Vox slammed his fist on the table. “DAMN IT!! Why can’t I get ANYTHING on him?!” Vox roared in anger, standing up and turning around before storming towards and out the observatory doors.

Once out he walked back towards the elevator, keeping that same angry scowl on his face earning a lot of concerned looks from his employees as he reached the elevator and pressed the button to go to Velvette’s floor.

As the elevator ascended he thought to himself what he was going to do when he got there, “I know what I’m going to say to her but talking to Vel has always been a little complicated.” Vox muttered to himself, he was muttering so much that he didn’t realize that the elevator had already arrived at Velvette’s floor.

He was only snapped out of it when one of her fashion designers approached him. “Uhm sir…do you need to get off here?” She asked him and jumped back as he snapped back to attention. “Yes..I do thank you.” Vox replied, stepping out of the elevator and stopping by the designers side.

“Do you know where I can find Velvette?” He asked her and she nodded with a small frown, “She’s over there.” The designer pointed a few meters away where sure enough Vox saw a head of blue and pink hair walking around over the racks of clothes.

“Great thank you.” Vox told her, beginning to walk away but her voice stopped him, “Wait sir one more thing!” She called after him as he turned around to hear, “Yes?” He asked her, beginning to grow annoyed.

“I would be careful if I was you. She’s…kind of in a bad mood…” She told him quietly and heard him sigh, “Of course she is..great thank you.” Vox told her once more before turning back around and heading to where the hot headed designer was.

“HORRENDOUS! GO PICK SOMETHING ELSE!!” Velvette yelled at one of the models who scurried off to go find a different outfit right as Vox appeared behind her. “Hello there Velvette!” He spoke from behind her making the girl turn with a scowl.

“What do you want Vox?! I’m busy!” She yelled up at him, pausing when she noticed the same angry scowl on his face. “Not using your overlord powers. How is it that you fight an enemy?” He asked her quietly as not to let the others hear.

Immediately she knew what this was about, placing her hands on her hips with an annoyed look. “Seriously? You need to stop getting so worked up over that red abomination. But fine since you asked so nicely.” Velvette told the other overlord, explaining her fighting technique to him and smirking as she saw his face light up.

“Great thanks Vel.” He told her before turning back around for the hundredth time and walking back to the elevator, getting on and pressing the button for Valentino’s floor right as the doors closed and the elevator ascended once more.

He knew that the moth had a flexible schedule, he did tell at him employees a lot but because of that nobody questioned when he just randomly left sometimes so he could just waltz in there and pull the other to the side.

Deciding to put his plan to action as the elevator reached Valentino’s floor Vox exited and put his hearing on mute so he wouldn’t have to hear the sounds from the movie creating that was going on around him as he walked down a decorated hallway to see Valentino.

Once he reached the room Valentino was in he looked away from the center of the room where filming was taking place, walking up to the director’s chair and grabbed one of Valentino’s arms and pulled him out, dragging him out of the room and around one of the corners.

“Ohhh Voxy, what’s the occasion~?” Valentino crooned at the other demon, the Tv demon in question facepalming in annoyance before sighing and looking up at the other overlord.

“I need to ask you something Val.” Vox began, getting an irritated look on his face as Valentino’s face formed into something seductive, “Is that so? And what is that?” He chuckled but quickly jumped back with a laugh as Vox raised his hand, said limb beginning to spark with electricity.

“Okahay okay! What is it?” Valentino asked again, walking back up to Vox who lowered his sparking hand. “Without using your stupid magic, how is it that you face off against an enemy.” Vox explained his question, crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited an answer.

“Hmm that’s a good one, I assume it’s about the Radio Demon again? Another loss~?” Val taunted but put his hands up in surrender as Vox’s whole being started sparking. “Okay okay I’ll tell you!” Valentino told him, beginning to explain his fighting style to the other overlord.

“Perfect. Thanks Val.” Vox responded, turning on his heel and walking back down the hallway where he came from, leaving Valentino to his job.

“Finally. I have reference points.” Vox muttered to himself as he reached the elevator, getting on and pressing the button one more time to head back to his floor.

As he rode the elevator he noticed that he had to stop by the copy room on his floor to pick up some paperwork. Sighing in annoyance at the new detour as the elevator reached the desired floor he stepped off and began walking towards the copy room on the other side of his floor.

On his way there his assistant Papermint wandered up to his side, following him to the copy room, “D-Do you need some help sir..?” The assistant asked, as Vox approached the fax machine, picking up the paperwork at the front of it and turning back around, leaving the copy room.

“No Papermint. Leave me.” Vox replied, walking across the floor and reaching his observatory and entering, leaving a confused and slightly concerned Papermint outside.

“Finally..I can get back to work alone.” Vox muttered to himself, sitting down at his desk and taking a pen from thin air and getting to work on the small stack of paperwork.

Vox then got bored quite quickly, decided to put on some chilled out music on his screen to keep himself occupied while he worked, not really knowing what else to do as he worked.

Finally after about 2 hours of writing he finished the stack and decided to carry it to where he needed to take it. The Press, so he stood, holding the massive stack and teleported via security cameras and appearing right outside the press office.

He then went in and spoke with the receptionist as the woman led him to the boss’s office where a brief greeting went on before Vox dropped off the paperwork and teleported back to his observatory via the security camera in the press boss’s office.

Now back in his observatory he sighed before walking over to his desk and sitting down, his body sparking for a moment before all the camera’s in his panels flickered to life, turning on the camera’s to the hotel trying to spy on Alastor.

He appeared in a lot of the panels but as usual his silhouette was glitchy and blurry, it was a little difficult to see him but still possible. So Vox continued watching as he wandered around the halls, stopping to talk to the stupid sunshine and rainbows princess and her little girlfriend.

Vox watched them for a moment more before Alastor’s silhouette turned towards the camera before vanishing from sight.

“Shit!” Vox exclaimed, jumping up and surrounding his body with electricity right as a tendril of shadow burst out of the ground and tried to hit him but his electricity protected him as Alastor appeared not too far away.

“My my! Spying is not a good look on you my friend~” Alastor told him, chuckling a little as Vox got into a fighting stance, getting ready to fight the other demon. “Calm down I’m not here to fight.” Alastor assured, waving a hand at him while fixing his hair and twirling his staff behind his back.

“Bullshit. If you weren’t here to fight then why are you here?!” Vox snapped at Alastor, the air around him starting to heat up nervously. “I’m just here to talk. You know spying isn’t very nice.” Alastor spoke calmly, still keeping the grin on his face.

“Why are you grinning like that asshole! Stop that!” Vox growled, charging at Alastor who attempted to jump back but wasn’t fast enough as Vox grabbed a hold of his sides making a startled crack of microphone feedback go through the air, a small gasp escaping the other overlord as he stumbled away.

“What…was that?” Vox paused, a smirk making its way onto his face. “Ticklish asshat.?” Vox chuckled, standing back up to his full height and advancing as Alastor started backing off, glaring hard at his rival.

“Vox…don’t you dahare..” Alastor warned, holding a hand out as he tried to stop him but that plan was quickly abandoned as he felt his back hit the wall, he turned his head to give the wall a betrayed look like it was the wall’s fault for being there but when he turned back around Vox was right in his face making him flinch back.

He was about to just merge with the shadows to get away but Vox caught on and grabbed his ribs firmly to keep him from leaving, the other demon flinching hard at the contact.

“So….you think it’s soooo funny to just sneak up on me like that huh?” Vox pretty much interrogated Alastor, his face inches from the others in an attempt at intimidation.

“Yeah wehell you’re not much behetter! Don’t think I don’t see you cohonstantly spying on mehe!” Alastor snapped back, unable to keep the nervous giggles out of his voice making Vox chuckle.

“Maybe but an attempted sneak attack is a lot worse than that. So you’ll pay for it. Suffer old-timer.” Vox grinned as his fingers sprang into action, fingers skittering and scribbling in rapid succession over Alastor’s ribs and sides making the other demon double over, face buried in the Tv demon’s shoulder in an attempt to quell his laughter, welp there goes his rep.

“Vohohohox! Thahahahat’s enohohohough!” Alastor whined from Vox’s shoulder, fingers scrabbling at the back of his suit in an attempt to lessen the sensations.

“Hah! How’s it feel you ass!” Vox snapped back with a cheeky grin, switching over to scratching over Alastor’s shoulder blades making the demon crumble, sliding down the wall and tossing his head back in laughter.

“Damn this is really bad huh?” Vox taunted, switching again to scratch over his ribs, noticing that it’s a bit of a bad spot. “Give up and maybe just maybe I’ll let you go.” Vox chuckled, not at all surprised when Alastor flipped him the bird but still acted offended.

“How dare you?!” He gasped in mock-offense, switching to his hips, “Pay the price jerk!” Vox exclaimed, drilling into the bone and laughing when Alastor’s laughter jumped an octave, hand smacking Vox’s back in a way to try to calm himself down.

“Hahaving fun jerk? I noticed you haven’t told me to stop~” Vox teased, grinning wider when his face flushed in embarrassment and high pitched radio static filled the air.

“Give up yet?” Vox snickered, grinning when Alastor shook his head in defiance. “NOHOhohohoho WAHAHAHAY!!” Alastor snapped, refusing to give in even when Vox started targeting one of his worst spots.

“REHEheheheHEleEHEHEASE ME Ahahat OHOhohoNCE!!” Alastor cackled, pounding the ground with a fist, ears twitching as his senses were lit up by Vox’s touches.

“No? Then let’s see if this changes your mind.” Vox told him before surging some electricity into his fingertips, sending small sparks into Alastor’s hips, not enough to hurt but enough to tickle like hell.

Alastor bucked, ducking his head and bursting into hysterical laughter surprising Vox by the level. “VOHOHOHOX!! THAHAHAHAT’S ENOHOHOHOUGH LET ME GOHOHOHO!!” Alastor shrieked, louder radio static filling the air.

“Give up?” Vox spoke, offering the suggestion and grinning widely when he finally nodded, “OKAHAHAHAY FINE YOU WIHIHIHIN I GIHIHIVE I GIHIHIVE!!” Alastor cackled, smacking the ground repeatedly, a sign that he actually did give up.

With a proud grin Vox stopped the electricity from his fingers, slowing them to a stop and climbing off him, watching amused as Alastor’s chest started evening out.

“There goes your reputation.” Vox laughed as Alastor lifted his head and gave him an ice cold glare, the radio static in the air thinning out before disappearing, Alastor himself disappearing among the shadows.

“Hah! I finally won at least.” Vox cheered himself on, standing up and heading back to his desk, turning the camera’s back on and going back to watching Alastor as he sat in his room before noticing the camera and flipping it off making Vox laugh.

I guess there are some battles that can be won.

(This one was okay I’m kinda iffy on it 😭 hope you liked it though!)

[backtothefanfiction]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell | TF!Boys Mafia AU~ Part ONE

Summary: When Phoenix comes home to find her fiancé banging some other girl, her whole life changes seemingly overnight. Forced to go back and live with her Dad, she's about to be dragged into a life with the men her Dad is indebted to.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY (Mature Content), Dark Mafia Romance Au, setting things on fire, swearing, dead parent, debt, mental health issues, brain tumour, broken family, anger issues (female rage), AFAB OFC, objectification of the female body, pyromania, little bit of theft (smut to come)

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: I didn't need to have yet another idea for a story. I also didn't need to write it straight away, but I recently read Den of Vipers and figured I could do something better featuring the Triple Frontier boys. I don't know how many parts of this there will be, or how regularly this will ultimately be updated, but I thought I'd share anyway. Smut will come, featuring all four guys this time. This will use an ofc but apart from the hair, there aren't too many descriptors. This will also be written from multiple characters points of view throughout to keep things interesting. Enjoy!

ONE

PHEONIX

My fingers itch as I grip the steering wheel tighter. I should have worn gloves, I say to myself as I drop one hand from the wheel and rub it vigorously against my torn jeans, hoping the friction from the denim will- at the very least- satiate the itch left behind from the lighter fluid long enough for me to get to the next gas station, so I can stop in and wash my hands properly.

It was reckless of me really- the whole damn thing. My brothers taught me better than this, but then again, everyone said I had a temper that was only second to Archie’s in my family- so I’m really not that surprised. People say my Dad used to be equally hot headed before he got remarried to Marina and took over the club, but I’ve still yet to see it- even after all the shit me and my brothers have pulled over the years. It’s like after our Mother died he just gave up. But I don’t blame him. I would too if I lost the love of my life to a fucking disease like that. I had barely known her anyway, so I didn’t really notice all that much when the brain tumor turned her into a “literal monster”, as my older brothers used to so fondly call her when she was on one of her rampages.

I’d always said that my only real memory of her was when she tried to burn down the house by settling alight to the curtains in their bedroom. I remember we all stood out on the front grass as the smoke billowed out of the windows and mixed with the night air. Archie stood on my right holding one of my hands, E.Z stood on my left holding the other. Maybe that’s why I’ve always had a thing for fire myself. Messing about with lighters, setting things on fire- all so I can try and understand that night… At least, that’s what a therapist would probably say.

My Dad tried to make me go to one once, after I ended up burning down the whole science block at my school at 16, but alas, that never happened. Which is why I’m probably still using fire as a coping method after all these years.

My phone is blowing up by the time I reach the nearest gas station. I scan the messages from my brothers over quickly as I pull into the lot.

Deano: Heard what you did, I’d say he fucking deserved it.

Archie: Dad is pissed. Gonna try to calm him down before he does something stupid.

E.Z: Seriously, Phe, again! Dad is gonna be so pissed.

Leo: Just heard about your latest work, props little sis, I think your balls might be even bigger than Dean’s.

Rolling my eyes, I shove my phone in the glove box as it begins to buzz again. Uhh, I really don’t want or need a lecture right now about how I should or should not have acted upon finding my fiance in bed with another woman. Did I over react… by some people’s standards- maybe. But did I also live out every woman’s fantasy of dousing the bed in lighter fluid and striking a match whilst they were still in the bed… yes- yes I did- and do I give two fucks about any repercussions? Absolutely- fucking- not. Because there won’t be. Never have been. My Dad works for some of the most powerful men in the city- and I’m not talking about the Governor or the Mayor. No- someone will send some money over to keep them sweet and in a couple days time, everything will go back to normal.

I scrub at my hands with the shitty cheap soap in the tiny cubicle inside the gas station to the point the giant rock, still on my finger, almost slips off and down the drain. It’s the first time I’ve thought about it. I’ve been wearing it so long, it’s just an extension of my hand at this point. What am I gonna do with it? I mean- it’s worth a fucking fortune. Freddie was fucking loaded after all. None of it fucking his mind you. His Dad was a close business partner for the same guys my Dad worked for. Let’s just say, crime pays and his Dad has made so much money over the years working for Santiago Garcia and his crew, Freddie has never had to lift a single finger, let alone do a days work, to get what he wants.

I grab a handful of shitty paper towels, drying off my hands and the ring, holding it up to the fluorescent bathroom light. Uhhh it wasn’t even my style. I hate diamonds, they’re so basic and boring. Give me a massive fuck off ruby or saphire anyday. 

Still unsure what to do with it, I tuck it into the back pocket of my jeans before assessing how I look in the mirror. It’s like waking up from the weirdest dream and not recognising yourself. I look at my blonde hair in the mirror, the plain white t-shirt covering my breasts. I look like one of those young Barbie, trophy wife wannabe types. Where did the color and fun go? He drained it all out of me.

In college, when I met Freddie, I had pink in my hair and always had on something bright. At least my ripped jeans still have some character. 

Exiting out back onto the shop floor, I grab myself a large bag of cheetos and a cherry icee- that's as big as my head- from the machine in the back. As I place the large bag of cheesy puffs on the counter, I take a large sip of my drink, before placing that too on the counter, reaching for a pair of bright yellow heart sunglasses on a display next to the cashier.

“What d’ya think?” I ask the portly man behind the counter, who’s polo shirt doesn’t look or smell like it’s been washed for at least two weeks with its armpit stains and ranch dressing smear on the front.

It’s obvious he’s trying to come across as if he’s not checking out my whole body as he looks at me, but his eyes scan lower than my face, falling on the V neck of my t-shirt and my breasts for a hint too long. I flash him a sickly sweet smile as I take the sunglasses off my face and hook them into my shirt where his eyes seem to linger instead. “How about now?” I ask.

He quickly clears his throat as he looks back to the register. “Uhhh, yes- Yes- I think they suit you, yes.” he rambles and I can’t help but laugh. Men like that were always so predictable.

I reach for the icee taking another sip and try to school my features when I get brain freeze. “With the sunglasses,” he says, “16 bucks.” I sigh, but fish a couple notes out my back pocket and hand them over, just as my eyes land on a lighter covered in black and white harlequin print. My fingers instantly reach for it.

I turn the lighter over and over again in my fingers before flipping the top of it open and striking up a flame, my eyes getting lost in its amber glow as it sways hypnotically back and forth. It instantly takes me back to not 20 minutes ago and Fred and the girl’s screams, as the bed covers went up in flames and they both shot out from underneath them as he screamed about how much of a psycho I was. 

The ding of the till draw brings me back to the present and I flick the lighter closed. “Oh, and I’m taking this as payment for you oggling me.” I smile at the balding cashier, as I pocket the lighter and grab my bits off the counter.

I can hear him calling after me, “HEY, COME BACK HERE! YOU NEED TO PAY FOR THAT!” but I just laugh and take another sip of the slush and place the sunglasses back on my head.

As I walk back to my car, I notice a bum, sitting in the shade of the wall at the back corner of the station. As I look at him, I can feel the weight of the ring in my back pocket, dragging me towards him. Hey, the ring might not have changed my life, but it doesn’t mean it can’t change someone else’s life.

“Hey.” I say, lifting the yellow sunglasses on top of my head so I can meet his eyes. “Catch.” I toss him the ring. It sparkles as it hits the afternoon sun and I know from the look on his eyes as it makes contact with his fingers, he feels like he just won the lottery. “Pawn it. Get whatever you want with it, I don’t care.” I say as I begin to turn away from him and back to my car.

“Uh-thank you.” he says at first in shock, “Thank you.” he says again, a little more confidently now.

“Don’t mention it.” I shout back to him as I unlock my car with a chirp and climb back inside. 

I open the bag of cheetos, taking one and popping it in my mouth, before dumping them on the passenger seat and reaching to open the glove box, taking my phone back out.

7 more texts from my brothers and 5 missed calls from my Dad; with a final text saying:

DAD: Get your ass home. NOW!

Well, that does it then. I guess I’m going back to the old family home.

I start the engine, shuffling through the radio stations until I find something I like. When I hear the opening riff for Britney Spears’ Toxic, I stop and whack the volume all the way up. My tires screech as I speed out of the forecourt. I sing at the top of my lungs all the way home.

☆

I’m not through the door five seconds when E.Z is trying to usher me back out again. He’s always been the softer one. Third born. The middle child. Always overlooked, but still always trying to appease everyone.

“Dad is pissed.” He says, when he meets me in the foyer. After Mom tried to burn the house down, the place got remodeled. My Dad had to sell his soul to the devil to do it, but it meant we got to stay in our family home. Well, sort of. 

The whole left side of the house needed rebuilding, which meant they got to extend it out a bit more. We lost the basketball court the boys liked to play on, but it meant they finally got their own rooms so they didn’t mind. 

“I know.” I say to E.Z, waving my phone in his face with one hand, while I take a sip of my icee with the other. 

“Give me that.” He says, snatching the drink from my hand, the contents within the straw almost going everywhere as he rips it straight from my mouth. “This is serious Phe, Andy,” Freddie’s dad, “has already been on the phone making threats. You know how important he is for the business. He’s threatening to cut off the club’s supplies.”

“And….” I shrug, before reaching to take back the large cup in his hands. He merely moves it further out of my reach. “Look, I’m sure the guys who own the place have other connections he can use.”

“You sure about that?” My brother presses, raising his eyebrows and looming over me.

“Oh come on, you telling me those four wannabe goodfellas bozos, haven’t got some other dipshit on their payroll to import and export shit for them off record to help keep club costs down.” 

E.Z’s face is a picture. Eyes wide, face serious. It’s clear from his expression and his mouth that keeps gaping like a fish as he tries to get a word in, that he thinks I should shut up. “What!?” I hiss at him, but as I’ve been ranting and raving, I haven’t heard the second set of feet that have made their way through the front door into the foyer. E.Z’s face turns pale as he looks behind me to the figure and back.

“Oh no, don’t stop on my account.” A forced casual voice comes from behind me.

I turn my head and follow the voice to one of the most gorgeous men I have ever laid eyes on. All tanned skin and dark curly hair, a smattering of grays mixed in- the only hint to his age. I frown as a familiarity falls over me, but I can’t quite place from where. “I’m sorry- do I know you?”

He slides his fingers into his trouser pockets, his foot tapping slightly as he looks me up and down. “Oh you know, I’m just one of those bozos who’s now having to help clear up your mess.”

Before I have a chance to respond, my Dad and Archie step out of his office at the end of the hall. “PHEONIX!” My Dad’s voice bellows and I blanche, maybe that anger isn’t as far away as I thought. 

I turn away from the stranger in his Armani suit by the front door, to my Dad, flashing him my sweetest smile. “Hi, Dadd-”

“Uh- No!” He says, holding up a hand to stop me, “Don’t you dare-” He stops as he spots the other gentleman in the foyer. “Pope.” He says, his demeanor growing lighter as he greets the man who actually owns his ass.

“What kind of name is Pope?” I hiss to E.Z under my breathe, but he just nudges me to shut up.

“David… Archie…” Pope nods his head to the two men. “Shall we talk in your office.” He says, nodding back down the hall behind him.

“Uh- yes. Yes.” My Dad says nervously, turning his body to indicate for him to follow him back, before shooting me a stern look, telling me to behave and that this was far from over.

“Pheonix.” Pope nods to me as he passes, a faint smirk in the corner of his mouth and a look in his eye that I could only describe as fascination. But it quickly disappears again as he turns back to my Dad.

As the door to my Father’s office closes, my brother begins to ferry me towards the stairs. “I’d get up there and stay out of trouble if I were you.” He warns. 

I roll my eyes at him before I slip the yellow, heart shaped sunglasses, down over them with annoyance, snatching back my icee, before I stomp upstairs- as usual, out of sight, out of mind.

~

POPE

“Mr Garcia, I am so sorry for my daughters behavior. I really had thought she’d grown out of this,” David Leacher says, as I sit myself down in one of the leather armchairs in his office. “And I never thought she would do something like this that would put your well balanced business in jeopardy.”

I fain disinterest about the subject, because really, it doesn’t actually bother me all that much at all. Sure Andy is a bit pissed now on behalf of his son, but from what I hear, if you’re gonna go sneaking around behind your soon to be Mrs' back and she finds out, you kinda get what your asking for. To be fair, I gotta give the little lady props; it takes real guts to dump lighter fluid on a guy and strike the match, regardless of the consequences. 

“… I just don’t know what to do with her.” David says, slumping back in his chair behind his desk with a large glass of bourbon in his hand. 

“And this is why I never got married and had kids.” I say, giving him a tight lipped smirk. There’s an awkward pause between us, the only sound in the room, the ice clinking in David’s glass as he takes another nervous sip, his hand shaking slightly in anticipation, waiting for the slap on the wrist he thinks is about to come. “Look David, I’ll get to the point, Andy wants compensation for the money he’s already forked out for the wedding.” David puts his drink down and begins rubbing his temples as if this whole ordeal is giving him a headache. 

He sighs, turning to me, an earnest look in his eye, “Pope,” he says softly- imploringly- “you know I don’t have the money for that-“

“I know.” I say, cutting him off. “That’s why, we’ve decided to franchise Medusa’s. We are going to acquire two more clubs, you’ll get a pay rise and oversee all three venues, to help cover the costs. We get more money coming in through the clubs, you get more money to pay off Andy- everyone’s a winner.” 

The look of relief on David’s face is a picture. “Oh thank you, Pope- uh Mr Garcia.” He says, as his whole body seems to let out a very long breath that he had been keeping tight in his body, probably since the first call he got this afternoon about his daughter’s antics. “Thank you, thank you.” He seemingly pants.

“Look Dave, you’re a good guy- a loyal guy-“ I say honestly, “you work hard, you run Medusa’s well. Profits have been up 30% since you took over. I’m not gonna jeopardize that over some silly tiff between a couple kids.”

“No, no… thank you.” He says quietly, acknowledging my words as I continue to speak.

“Whether this had happened or not, we were going to come to you with this proposal this week anyway. Help you pay off your debt to us quicker too- you know.”

“Yes… thank you, Pope. Thank you.”

“Very well then.” I nod to him. “I’ll call Andy, let him know everything is settled.”

“Thank you, Pope, thank you.” He says again. 

David is a good man- a loyal man. He runs our most popular club well, but it was a real shame how soft he had gone in his old age. Ever since he lost his wife, he’s never been the same. Then he married that wannabe wag Marina- who does nothing but spend the rest of what little money he has coming in after he repays some of his debt to us- and walks all over him. Back in the day he had really made a name for himself bare knuckle boxing. They used to call him The Reaper because he could knock a man out with a single blow that brought a man close to death; but nowadays he’d barely hit a fly. This was yet another reason I never settled down and did the whole wife and kids thing- it made you soft.

Still didn’t stop his little girl from being as tough as nails and crazy to boot- but when the only female role models you had growing up were a Mother with a brain tumor that made her- to be polite- unhinged; and then Marina, it's no wonder she’s ended up as she has. She bounced around three different boarding schools in her teens. By the third school- after she had burnt down the science block at the second school- we had to write a fairly hefty donation cheque, in order to get her in. Just another number added to David’s bill to be repaid.

Although he had initially approached us looking for work in order to pay off his wife’s medical bills and then to redo the house after she had burnt half of it down, most of the money he’s borrowed from us over the years has been for Phoenix. Frankie, Will and myself have spent many a night around the table with a drink in our hands speculating on why he continues to bail her out and put himself in more debt to protect her. We’ve long come to assume it’s probably because of guilt. That she was robbed of a proper Mother. Cursed to have a weak Father. If she had been my kid, I would have tossed her ass out on the curb a long time ago and told her to deal with her own shit if she wanted to keep behaving the way she has over the years.

To be fair though, after she met Freddie, we thought she’d finally straightened out- or at least she had become Fred’s problem and he was dealing with it. She stopped going to the clubs. Started wearing more grown up clothing that matched her age. Began running with Freddie and his older friends. But I guess it was only a matter of time and you know what they say- a leopard never changes their spots.

I’m halfway to the door, ready to leave, when David stops me. “Umm, Pope.” He says tentatively. I slowly turn myself back to him, ready to hear his request, even though he’s in no place to be making requests right now after I’ve just bailed his ass out for the fifteenth time. “I was just wondering…” he continues hesitantly, “seeing as Phoenix and Freddie are no longer together, she’ll probably need an actual job of her own now…” I can almost feel myself rubbing at my temples, knowing the question that was about to come out of his mouth. It’s the same question that had come when all of his son’s came of age and needed a job… but this time is different- and we both know it.

Phoenix isn’t like her brothers. Where they are able to be mature and step up and follow orders, she most definitely can not. I’ve seen enough of her school reports over the years to know what kind of employee she’d be. When David had asked about getting the boys jobs, it had been a no brainer. Each one of them had a build similar to their father in his hay day, perfect for a bit of muscle and extra protection in the club. But a job in Medusa’s for Phoenix would be behind the bar- and I know for a fact she’d sooner pour herself shots of liquor and dance on that bar than stand back and serve everyone else whilst they had a good time.

I already know I’m going to regret this when I finally climb into my bed at the end of the night, “She gets one chance.” I say. “One chance.” I hold up my index finger to him for emphasis.

“Thank you, Pope. I promise she won’t let you down.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I mutter to myself, my thumb and forefinger rubbing at my eyes in both irritation and exhaustion, as I finally leave the room. I give Archie a brief nod of acknowledgement as he sees me back out to my car.

I'm about to climb back in when he says, "I know you didn't have to do that, but he needed that, you know. He needs that hope that she'll be okay."

I only give him a nod as I look up to the row of upstairs windows and back to him, "We'll see." I say. "We'll see."

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

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[infernalodie]

𝐋𝐨𝐰 (𝐩𝐭.𝟏) || 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳

“𝘐'𝘮 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘐 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳? 𝘐'𝘮 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥“

Inspo: SZA - Low

Pairing: Maddy Perez x Black!Fem!reader

Summary: She didn’t understand why you were the talk of the town...

Warnings: Sexual tension

Part Two

Words: 1076

Everything Maddy had known about you had been from someone else. Someone telling her all the little things others had told them about you. How you were heartless and had nearly shot Nate at a party for grabbing your ass. Or how you have fucked practically every girl in school and never stayed with one girl for too long. Now, the last one was clearly a lie because Maddy had never had an official encounter with you. Never talked to you once, but she had caught your gaze a few times during parties whilst you went up the stairs with a girl.

But Maddy had never witnessed or understood why everyone was so interested in you. Because truthfully, she just thought you to be a slut. And she meant that in the meanest way possible. You got every girl you wanted and never wanted anything more than just a one-night stand. She didn’t like it and it sent the wrong message to everyone else. Well, not the guys because they just thought it was hot. Of course, only thinking with their dicks.

She was severely out of the loop and she was fine with that. But watching you from the kitchen, a perfect window from above the sink looking outside gave her a view of you and Cassie. A party was going on around her and her friends were trying to gauge her attention, but she was transfixed on what seemed to be an argument. You’re tall frame towering over the blonde’s as you spat hushed words as Cassie talked back with just as much anger. Maddy wasn’t at all surprised to see her ex-friend get caught up with someone completely selfish, but she was as well sick of the attitude you had for your hookups. Most didn’t even know that there was nothing to be developed after you were done.

That’s at least what Maddy had heard.

“I’ll be right back.” Maddy moved away from the counter and around the crowded bodies of kids as she made her way to the door leading outside. Having to put some forceful pushes against some of the football players that were chatting up some random chicks.

Once outside, the mute argument had finally been given sound as the rest of the backyard was vacant besides you and Cassie. “Don’t fucking touch me, Cass! You know damn well there isn’t anything emotional between us.” Maddy rounded the edge of the house and found the two of you face to face.

“You haven’t even given me a chance,” Cassie exclaimed. “Why are you so disgusted by the idea of us being something?”

Before you were able to reply, Maddy made her presence known. “Is there a problem here?” Both girls turned their attention to her, acknowledging her before looking back at one another. You let your eyes linger on her for a moment, looking her up and down and taking in her rather suggestive outfit. A pair of tight leather pants with a shirt that had a single button hiding the million-dollar prizes. She just looked beautiful.

But in the split moment, Maddy understood why people would fall under your spell or curse. Your eyes were captivating under the very mild light of the moon–the lights doing you more service than you’d believe. Highlighting the sharp jawline, plump lips, and defined cheekbones that complimented the other beautiful features you had. Skin having a golden glow from the lights of the kitchen reaching out through the window. But your eyes were what Maddy was stuck on. How warm they felt even with the rest of your face curled and twisted viciously in anger. They felt like a satin blanket had been placed over her, but was just short of covering her shivering feet. Because that is how she saw you. Something warm, something kind, something sexy, but still had other intentions in mind besides being all cute.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something, Perez,” you announced, half-heartedly. “You can go back to fucking Nate since this bitch dropped him.” Understandably, Maddy was just as offended as Cassie by the comment. Everyone knew what Nate did to her, including you, so Maddy found it rather appalling you would say something like that. But she was more surprised, flabbergasted, by your sudden action of turning to her, grabbing her jaw, and slamming your lips against hers.

It was fast and hot. Maddy was frozen in her position, submitted to your addicting taste on her tongue and lips. But she was only to resist it for so long before she crumbled just like everyone else. Lips moving against yours like a brush against canvas. Creating something sinful in the minds of the knowledgeable of what is before them. Your lips became the drug that she was beginning to need more and more each second she got accustomed to them. She just wondered what they felt like all over her body. How you claim her as yours with feather-like touches up and down her body.

She was faded. Mind vacant of the many bad things this could result in. How she might fall apart when you denied her just like all the other girls. How you would play along with her, seeking nothing more than sex before ditching her and moving on to the next girl that piqued your interest.

But as loud as the red flags flapped and sounded the alarms in her mind, she couldn’t pull away. She could only give into her desires and the seed of curiosity you had unintentionally planted in her mind that had sprouted from the soil a long time ago.

And when you finally parted, Maddy chased your lips. Her eyes fluttered shut and sought more of the divine gift you had teased her with. When she opened her eyes, she found you staring down at her with a small smile. “Maybe next time, Perez,” you whispered. “I’m sure you can get my number from one of your friends.”

That’s all you left her with as you walked back into the house, Cassie hot on your heels with tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried your name. A broken record no one wanted to listen to. But Maddy was lost in her thoughts and pinpricks of excitement danced across her body. Lips tingling–missing yours just as much as your hands that had rested on her hips.

She now understood what was so special about you.

[adult-kinda]

Nike Tech

Warnings: MDNI, smut, profanity, idol Jake, idea from the fansign where he put on a Nike tech hoodie.

In which you typically hate the stupid sweatsuit from Nike…

“Oh come on Y/N it can’t be that bad!” Your sister says.

You groan at her words. “No you don’t understand! Every damn guy around campus has the stupid outfit and thinks that they’re all that when in reality you’re not some attractive NBA player, you are Josh from fucking finance!”

What was all the aggression about? Your sister had gifted Jake a Nike tech sweatsuit for Christmas. It wasn’t something on his list (as a million seller idol he didn’t really have one to begin with) but it seemed to be in high demand amongst his demographic so she purchased it. You on the other hand had a deep hatred for the outfit. Every single guy on campus wore the outfit like their life depended on it. It was stupid and none of them looked any better.

“Well I think you’re overreacting. Back when I was in University sweatsuits and matching sets would get guys laid!” Your sister said teasingly.

You rolled your eyes and just before you could make a comment a familiar Aussie voice sounded at the door.

“Princess I’m home!”

“I’ll call you back sis!” You said before hanging up.

You turned around from your place on the couch to find Jake in thick rimmed glasses and that grey fucking Nike tech outfit. Your head was reeling but not out of anger. No, something about this man in the sweatsuit computed in your mind as lingerie. How did he manage to take something you planned on burning and make it into something so fine?

“Hi babe.” You said managing to sound normal.

Your behavior read as odd to Jake but he knew you would come to him if you had a problem so he let it go.

“How was your day?” He asked coming up to you planting a kiss on your forehead.

“It’s been good. I talked to my sister today.”

“Oh really?” He said heading into the kitchen. “Tell her I said hi next time you call.”

You hummed in response and just watched your man do whatever he was doing in the kitchen.

“How was practice?” You asked.

He sighed and headed back to the couch with a water bottle. “It was fine. We went over the Chaccone choreo again to finalize some things before we film it. I did some vocal training and language lessons for the tour.”

You only got about half of what he said. Your brain could not comprehend anything when he sat down next to you in a manspread. The outline of his cock was practically taunting you.

“Oh really?” You said with a lack of interest.

Jake nodded as he gulped down his water. “Yeah pretty standard stuff. Oh and we finally figured out that one part…”

The words were gone. All you could think about was how wet that Nike tech was making you. You tried to keep interest but it was a failed attempt.

“Princess, are you okay? I don’t like to pry but you’ve been a little off since I got here.” He said.

You broke out of your thoughts and nodded. “Y-yeah I’m all good Jake!”

He shook his head and leaned closer to inspect you. “Uh-uh. You called me Jake so now I know something’s not right. What going on?”

You just thought fuck it and went to straddle him. His hands immediately met your waist as he looked at you with confusion.

“You’re hot.” You said

Jake raised a brow at that. “Um… thanks?”

“You’re hot as fuck in this stupid sweatsuit.” You said as you pulled down the zipper to find his bare chest.

“Princess are you needy?” He asked with a smirk.

You didn’t answer with words but with actions. You pulled him in for a kiss and tugged at his hair when you did. Jake happily obliged still very confused by your sudden arousal/frustration.

“Princess wait.” He said in between kisses.

“Can I suck you off?” You asked already getting on your knees.

Jake looked at you from above his glasses and stopped your actions. You noticed him getting hard underneath the sweats. He couldn’t deny that your neediness, whatever the cause, was also impacting him. 

“Now princess, the only way you’re getting this dick is if you tell me what’s got you like this.” He said.

You whined but admitted the unfortunate truth. “The Nike tech sweatsuit. I hate it but you wear it too well.”

Jake smirked at your words. He pulled the sweats down just enough to make is cock known to you.

“Go ahead then. Reward me for looking so good.”

Your lips were on his dick in an instant. There was no time for teasing. You took him slowly inch by inch until you needed to come up. Jake held your head as you bobbed up and down on his dick. He peered down at you with the most rewarding look.

“So fucking good princess.” He moaned.

You didn’t expect to be as turned on as you were but your pussy was dripping down your thighs. You couldn’t help but toy with your clit while you sucked him off.

Jake pushed your head down a little further each time until you were practically gagging on his cock. He could only moan in pleasure at the sound of you. Your saliva was dripping down to his balls. Everything was so messy and that’s how he liked it.

“Fuck yeah baby. You hate this Nike tech? Hate it so much you wanna fuck me out of it?” He taunted.

You moaned on his cock getting closer to your release.

“Yeah you like that. You wanna fuck me out of this stupid outfit. Fuck- deeper… just like that…”

You allowed him to have full control as he used your mouth like a common fleshlight. He thrusted at his pace while you played with yourself.

“You’re such a slut for this Nike tech.” He mumbled.

That was all it took to have you creaming in your panties. Your eyes rolled back as he fucked your throat through the high. Jake looked down at you with a smirk.

“Did you cum? Cock so good it made you cum without fucking you, huh?”

Jake was most definitely a dirty talker and he did not let up this time. He talked his shit so well it sent your mind far pass overdrive.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum! I wanna see you take it all like a good girl.” He instructed.

A few final thrusts and his hips stilled. He shot his load in your mouth and you collected it on your tongue. When he had come to his senses Jake watched you stick your tongue out and let his cum drip onto his hoodie and abs.

“Such a good girl for me, princess.” He said caressing your face.

You swallowed whatever did not land on him and stood up to kiss him. His lips met yours in the middle with gratitude.

“So you really do hate that Nike tech set, huh?” He commented.

You shrugged. “If it’s you then it’s hot. Anyone else should be sentenced to life in prison.”

Jake laughed at your words and rubbed your sides.

“Well I know you already came but should I fuck you properly now?”

You gave it a quick thought before nodding. “Only if you keep that on. You wear it like it’s lingerie.”

Jake chuckled and nodded. “Okay bedroom now. And let’s thank your sister tomorrow for the gift, yeah?”

Of course the next day you were bitterly thanking her and eating your words. Maybe matching sets could get people laid, or maybe he’s just Jake Sim.

[bronx-bomber87]

I have decided to rewatch the entire series over the hiatus with reviews. Whether anyone reads these will come with time haha but either way I’m doing it cause I think it’ll be fun with having s5 done and going back I’ll see things with totally different POV. Will credit all gifs I use to their original owners at the end of my reviews. All the gif makers in this fandom are the real MVPs ❤️ These reviews will mainly center around Chenford and development of Tim and Lucy through out the series , but I will throw in bits about the show as a whole too. Because I do love it as a whole as well. These may be long cause I have a lot to say haha anyway whoever sticks around and reads it I love you haha feel free to comment on these posts as well. Would love that. Alright here we go. Let us start where it all began the Pilot.

Some backstory like to add here for me. I’ve been with this show since it got green lit by ABC. I was a huge Nathan Fillion fan and wanted to follow him to his next show. Also I loved Eric from my teenage years. So my sisters were obsessed with Days of Our lives as teens. I had no interest in it till Eric entered the arena. I thought he was (and still is BTW) one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen. I was very interested in watching DOOL after that LOL if you didn’t know that tid bit about him before now you know. His name was Rex and he was shirtless quite a lot and had my rapt attention as a 14 year old girl. Lmao

Anyways Nathan and Eric were the reasons I started this show. I was excited Nathan had a new show and Eric was a bonus for me. I was so excited I remember watching the pilot on my phone during my lunch in the pool room of my job at the time. The pilot had me captivated and I knew this was going to be a great show.

First off like to start with I miss Nathan with some meat on his bones. I know he has to be in wicked good shape for this role. I just miss his ‘Castle’ form from s1.

Second like to talk about my girl Lucy Chen. Her characters entrance into the show is my fav of the pilot. Lucy has such BAMF intro. The ‘hot shot’ right off the bat. I will always love her opening appearance. That confident bad ass is what Tim sees in her day one. Why he’s so damn hard on her. She just doesn’t see that in herself it just yet. But hell of a start for her.

Then we have our first glimpse into Chenford. To that lightning in a bottle chemistry. Doing that thing Eric and Melissa do so damn well. Their silent communication with just their eyes and expressions. Saw this look between them and I was a goner.

‘Officer Bradford gets our hot shot ‘ He most definitely did in more ways than one. Has no idea how his entire world is about to shift with her in his life. I think he was very impressed with her. Thought she was a ‘hotshot’ because of the arrest that morning. But he couldn’t let her know or see that. Especially not on her first day with him and at this point in time ever.

Ah Tim s1- so very guarded his walls so high the Great Wall of China is put to shame. To me s1 Tim is a man in pain and its exuding out of him with every action he makes. He has no emotional support or outlet and it shows. It’s why Lucy entering his life was the best thing for him. Shook him out of his walking pain/anger. We get to see the first glimpse of the ‘Tim Tests’ Lucy is to endure.

She’s not even two seconds into her time with him before this occurs. He’s grilling her already. So hard on her right out the gate. Because he saw something in her. He was testing her in the harshest way. Being so hard because he was hurting not that a first time viewer would know that. Re-watching s1 Tim the man truly is hurting and lashing out with everything he does. He so damn gruff , angry and guarded, that he comes off like a tool cause well he was at this point.

You aren’t supposed to like him right now IMO. You only see him as this insensitive jerk. You have no more information at this point than this current impression . When you know his whole story rewatching him like this. All I see is a radioactively angry and hurt man. You’re not supposed to like him right here and now. He’s coming off as unreasonable grump of a man. Especially so when Lucy fails his first Tim Test. Which leads us to the gas station scene.

The ‘punishment’ he gives her just another test. To him it’s his way of proving to himself he’s right about her. He already knows she can take care of herself. He wanted to see it in action and Lucy delivers in spades. The pride is written all over his handsome face when she wins her fight. Then Isabel shows up…

Eric KILLS me in this scene. The way his eyes tear up. His whole body is trembling. You can hear his bated breath as he speaks to her. He goes from gruff T.O. to concerned husband in a flash. We get our first look into him as a character. That he’s more than just this hard ass T.O giving Lucy a hard time. That there is something going on behind the scenes for him and it’s deep.

I applaud Eric for this scene we get to see him become human and vulnerable for the first time. Not only that but be those things around Lucy for the first time. She’s already soft for him when she gets the glimpse into him as a person. Says she promises she won’t tell anyone. He quickly resolves it with his sharp reply to her saying ‘ Damn right you won’t’. He’s mad at himself for letting Lucy see even a glimmer of vulnerability. Can’t show her one damn crack in his rough T.O. exterior. (yet…). Pilot does such a good job setting up their dynamic, of everyone’s really but theirs is my focus of course in these reviews.

Lucy probably thinks he’s out to make her life hell. When really he’s seeing potential in her. As seen in the previous scene at the gas station. He’s hurting so naturally he’s going to throw himself into work. Not let Lucy waste this potential he sees in her. Because work and training her is something he can absolutely control unlike the situation with Isabel. We get to see Lucy apply one her lessons in their next scene together.

Tim kicking her out of the car earlier (Which at the time I’m sure she loathed )him doing so save ultimately ends up saving his life. When he gets shot and she’s able to relay where they are and get him to safety. Also how she defends them both until backup arrives. Reinforcing what he sees in her in the first place. She protects herself and Tim like a pro.

Some side notes I’ll probably make each ep. Probably non Chenford related. I always forget how much I loved Captain Zoe Anderson- she was only in the show for a short time but made a massive impact. She was such a fierce leader putting Grey in his place and her POV on Nolan.

Also Lucy being with Nolan in beginning. Even when first started watching. I was like nope. Don’t like this. They just didn’t work. I hate it every time I re-watch it I hate it LOL but it does show her pattern of things before Tim. Such as taking on relationships she knows will never work out. I.e. Nolan. Because she isn’t ready for such commitment or projects like Chris. Well that’s all she wrote for the pilot. Was fun to write this up. Will continue to do so through out the hiatus. 😊

Gif credit to tim-lucy

Burning Blake

The rookie central

Hamburger heroes

Chenford source

Thesweetnessandthesarcasm

rookielucychen

[mr-m-murdock]

hi! it’s the same anon that requested #86 with nat or smth (so very good omg)

can you write a fic with either nat or valkyrie (shes so hot in the new movie omg) using this prompt?

“fuck you” “yeah? how hard?”

got you down bad

| valkyrie x fem!reader |

warnings: asshole!valkyrie, reference to sex

a/n: YES I CAN. AND YES SHE IS SO HOT I DIED IN THE THEATRE FR. I WANT HER TO BE SO MEAN TO ME

Valkyrie is late. Again. There’s nothing you can do but sit there, tapping the end of your pen against the table and watching as the minute hand on the clock inches obstinately onward. You’d be less agitated if you didn’t know exactly where she is and what it is that she’s doing.

As it is, you're trying hard to keep your thoughts very far away from what you know she's doing and why she's late. You are unsuccessful, and your pen picks up speed against the table. Then, to add insult to injury, the doors to the conference room swing open hard and the King of Asgard comes sauntering in with her t-shirt inside out. Just to confirm what you already knew.

"You're late," you say curtly, as you stand for her entrance: she's still your King, after all, even if she manages to get on every single nerve you have. She just snorts at you.

"Sit down."

You sink back into your seat and pick up your pen again.

"I was busy," she says, stretching her arms above her head.

"Right," you say. "Busy." She flashes you a white-toothed grin that nowhere near meets her eyes.

"Come on, then," she says, sighing demonstratively. "What is it today? Ribbon-cutting? Clown dancing?"

"You'd excel at both," you say dryly. "We've received a request for you to meet the new Queen of Wakanda."

She tries not to show it, but it interests her. The twitch in her smile. The narrow of her eyes.

"And no, you can't decline," you add.

"God, you really don't think much of me, do you?" she says, still grinning, still looking you right in the eye.

"Maybe you should hire someone who licks your shoes when you walk in, then," you snap.

"But I like it when my women talk back," she says, the light playing in her eyes. Your pen snaps in your hands and ink goes everywhere, all over your paper pad. You curse and jerk back; you hadn't even realised you'd been gripping it that hard. Valkyrie laughs. Doesn't stop laughing.

She wipes her eyes and slaps the table. "But really, you should mind your manners," she says, through huffs of laughter. "I'm your King. And-" she leans forward, not laughing anymore- "If I wanted you to lick my shoes, rest assured sweetheart, I'd find a way to make you do it."

And the smile is back. You wipe ink aggressively off your hands.

"Fuck you," you say, and you stand to leave, shaking in the shoulders.

"Oh yeah?" Valkyrie calls after you. "How hard?" You slam the door closed.

You practically run off down the corridor, into an empty room with a desk and nothing else. She'll come looking for you. You grab the pack of tissues on the desk and scrub furiously at your fingers.

It's been like this ever since- well, ever since she first set eyes on you, probably. But the real genesis of the problem was when she followed you to the bathroom at the damn Met Gala of all places, and told you, stalking around behind you with her eyes on yours in the mirror, that she'd been thinking about fucking you for a while. Your hands had shaken under the stream of water.

As advisor to the King, you shouldn't have. Not in any universe. But you had, because you'd not yet understood that she was like this with anyone and everyone who caught her eye. And she'd dropped you just like that. No regard for a professional relationship, or, gods forbid, your feelings. And sure, maybe you were a little snarky with her, but when she turned up to royal meetings having obviously come straight from the bedroom, it stung. That was all there was to it. Like she was parading it in front of you.

You're not going to cry. Not out of anger. The emotions are rushing out of you, though, and you kick the leg of the desk in anger.

And then the door opens and Valkyrie comes in. Closes it behind her and leans on it. Well, shit; she's found you. She always does.

"I'm not really in the mood for royal affairs," she says. "But you really shouldn't run off like that."

"Go away," you say, your voice marvellously clear.

"No." She tilts her head at you. "They all think they're special, gorgeous. You're not alone in that."

"Great," you say, discarding your inky tissues onto the desk. "Maybe we should start a therapy group. What is your problem, by the way?"

Valkyrie just looks at you. Dead-eyed now, like a shark. "I don't have a problem."

You laugh, and you don't mean for it to emerge derisive, but it does. "Oh, you really do. Gods."

She pushes off the door and walks towards you.

"Absolutely not," you say, but she just reaches past you for the tissues and tucks them into her pocket. She's looking at you now, ninety degrees in your peripheral and you stare resolutely at the wall.

"You shouldn't litter," she says, painfully close your face.

"I'm not doing this again," you say. "And neither are you, right?" Now you look at her. "Because you never have anyone twice."

Nothing for a moment, just her gaze on your face. You can practically feel it tracing the features of your nose, your lips. "Some people surprise me," she says.

And then, dickhead, she pulls back, opens the door and walks away. Leaves you, inky and trembling and wondering, alone in the room.

requests | masterlist

notes: good prompt anon I enjoyed that 🥴 now I have to do one where she's nice 💔

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @waitingroom-pb @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @natsaffection @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624  @strangegardentaco  @phantomvael @lorsstar1st  @blckrwidow @ima-gi--na-tion @paryl @aan-myouim @smallestavenger @lainjupi  @d1s0nym @meimei-a @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115   @idkjustliving2 @lokisjuicyass @mmmmokdok  @silentwolfsstuff  @olicity-boo @iliketozoneout

[thegreatlibraryfangirl]

Time to ramble about Khalila's temper. Because she really, really has one, and I think we all forget that sometimes. But if you actually pay attention, you can see that she's got a very quick, very hot temper, which, if she allows it, blossoms into violence.

The key there of course is if she allows it - most of the time she brings that flash under control again because violence isn't the right option. She appears to be very good at that emotional control, but less so at avoiding the initial reaction. Her anger is used as a tool, mostly, but the fact that it's there at all is often overlooked.

Let's go through some book quotes! (Non-exhaustive)

1. Ink and Bone

He made his countermoves, and almost laughed when her expression turned thunderously dark. Had she been Glain's size and temperament, he'd have been right worried, but on Khalila, thwarted ambition looked about as intimidating as a puppy's snarl. "I shouldn't have played fair and warned you, I suppose." "Not if you plan to win," he said. "I do like winning." She smiled, her fit of pique gone in an instant.

Here's Jess hilarious underestimating of Khalila, who later on in this same book will shoot a Burner at point-blank range. But here also is Khalila's temper. All they're doing is playing Go, and she's just realised that she's going to lose. Thwarted ambition and fit of pique indeed. She masters it almost immediately, and rightly so, but the fact that it flares so strongly here for such a minor event is telling, I think.

2. Paper and Fire

Here, we start to see what happens when Khalila doesn't restrain her rage, when she deems it acceptable to react. Hint: it involves violence and death threats.

Just, tbh, the entire bit where she attacks Jess because he won't go after Dario, but here are the highlights:

"And if you ever lay hands on me again, I will kill you, Jess Brightwell! ... Her face was set and terrible, her eyes like dark pits ... "Then let us run," she said, in a voice drained of anything but anger.

To quote myself from this post, emphasis today's:

This is essentially Khalila losing her temper. No-one will help her save Dario, which she takes as a moral failing, and then Jess tries to physically stop her. [...] So she hits him and she shouts that it’s all HIS fault, and then once she’s finished with that she shrugs him off with one well-placed knee. And a death threat.

Next, we have a titbit from the end of P&F when they are in the Iron Tower. This is an immediate reaction to Keria touching Morgan.

Khalila stood up. It was a swift, controlled motion, and although it wasn't threatening, there was a cold look in her eyes that made the Obscurist's focus shift. [...] "if you touch Morgan again, if you try to take her away and lock her up, then you'll have to kill me. I won't make it easy."

She is controlling herself here, because she knows that physically reacting isn't the play right now, but she is ANGRY and broadcasting it. Sadly we don't get to see her simmer down from this, damn Jess.

3. Ash and Quill

Obviously, we have the best scene of all for Khalila beating the shit out of someone because she knows they deserve it

(If you're not as obsessed as me, this is from the scene when they're first imprisoned in Philly, where they're all being frisked and a guard rips off Khalila's headscarf)

Khalila turned whip-fast to grab the man's wrist and extended and twisted his whole arm. She continue the spin and pressed her palm hard into the back of his elbow, reversing it to the breaking point and held him there as he cried out. [...] Her voice was steady but Jess could see her face. She was still angry.

This is a beautiful and amazing scene but it's not quite as useful for my points as some of the others, because the fury is perfectly understandable here (i.e. not quick/sensitive reaction) and she doesn't bother to calm herself down again afterwards. Though actually I suppose that is in and of itself interesting, that Jess notes some time late that she's still angry, maybe indicating that he hadn't expected it.

A quick second quote here, from after Rafa's death:

Khalila swallowed hard, and for a moment there was a shine of tears in her eyes, but then it was gone, as if it had evaporated under the intense heat of the anger she was banking inside. [...] "I can't think of a time I've needed [prayers] so much." A&Q

This is useful for a) suggesting that prayer helps her to regulate herself, and b) assuming that Jess isn't flat-out guessing here, she is externally showing her internal rage. Obviously again, it's an understandable one, but interesting that anger is her overriding reaction here rather than grief, fear, guilt or anything else.

4. Smoke and Iron

"No!" Khalila shook off Glain's restraining hand. "No, it isn't all right. They hurt him. There was blood-[...] There was a great deal of blood, and I want to go find him! Let me go find him!" "Khalila." Santi put his hands on her shoulders, and Wolfe saw the tense fury drain out of her.

Here, we have her 'righteously' losing her temper again and physically reacting. Yes, I am calling something as minor as shaking off Glain's hand as a physical anger response, fight me. But she masters it almost immediately, as soon as it becomes apparent that it won't be useful anymore. (Note, this very much mirrors that P&F scene with equally missing Dario, where she hits Jess but doesn't attack Wolfe. She knows taking out her feelings on the dads won't get her anywhere.)

5. Sword and Pen

I am actually, shocker, not going to address her verbally castrating Dario as the Pharaoh. I have a lot to say about that scene lol, but in Khalila mind she is completely in the right, so can be outwardly angry, and in control, so doesn't need to physically react.

Instead I'm going to use my probably second favourite example of her temper in the whole series, because it's the only time we get the process I'm talking about from her PoV.

"I can hardly blame them, to be honest. There’s panic in the city. They have families to look after. As do I, but my first duty is still here.” Khalila started to fire back a hot reply, but then took a beat to consider. There was no point in being angry; the woman’s point was well made.

Now, in Khalila's defense she's under horrific stress here. But this is just a conversation with a Library cook, who's pointed out that her coworkers might value their safety over making sure the ambassadors get wined and dined. And Khalila's first response is anger, that she shuts down once she realises she's being unreasonable.

Anyway, so, yeah, some examples of Khalila the hothead!

[cloudyinthecloset]

What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Night would like to forget the time he and Dream spent in the capital with the King, he would have been a lot happier without that experience. Without the emotional damage, Night may have even been better equipped to protect his village and his mother. Alternatively, he'd like to forget the short period of his life when he thought Dream was dead.

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

Not very easily, although if the life of one of his Marked or his brother was on the line, Night would probably cave and do it.

8. Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

Could he? Absolutely, given Dream's light walking ability. Would he? well....in the right circumstances, maybe, but it'd have to be pretty damn extreme.

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

In an alternate timeline, Night is killed by the King while they are still visiting the capital and Dream is held against his will, threats against their village keeping him in line, even though it ends up burned to the ground anyway. Their mother's tree is dug up and dragged to the King's castle. Dream is kept as tender of the tree and pet to the King, forced to pick and give her precious apples to whoever pays the exorbitant price. Dream wallows in his own sorrow and despair, plagued by the vengeful voice of his mother until finally he snaps. He eats as many of the apples as he can, inadvertently bonding with his mother's tree and accidentally killing her in the process. Dream turns into a horrible amalgamation of skeleton and dryad, roots growing out of his soul and wrapped around his body, bark and moss and fungi sprouting from his bones, a thick layer of vegetation covering his limbs and turning him into a living ecosystem. The last two apples grow in his eye sockets, blinding him, and big wing-like branches with thick foliage sprout from his back. After that Dream is driven predominantly by his emotions, which oscillate wildly between positive and negative, but remain largely negative as he begins a rampage of consumption, spreading his hate and sorrow as he seeks the revenge his mother wished to enact. Somewhere in his broken mind, this version of Dream believes his brother is still alive and simply missing, and the carnage he leaves in his wake is only the unfortunate byproduct of searching for Night.

This is just one potential Bad End for the E!AU twins' story, I've got plenty of other ideas~

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

Their original world! It would be super fun to get a tour from them of their village and the forest their mother's tree resides in. They'd be able to introduce you to everyone and snag you some sweet goodies by virtue of being with them, plus you'd be in their mother's good graces, which is a rare boon.

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

Night has a cold building anger that is slow to grow but does eventually reach a peak. He's able to hold grudges for a very, very long time, but he also has the experience to know when he's becoming too angry and how to stop himself from reaching a point of no return. Because Night's corruption is connected to his own negative emotions his rage bulks out his corruption. While this helps cushion his broken body and reduces his chronic pain, it also makes him incredibly heavy and sluggish, even to the point of bending him over as the corruption piles on and weighs him down. Night can become completely consumed by his negative emotions, resulting in him being smothered by his corruption and at risk of it crushing his fragile body.

Dream's anger is explosive and hot, but it burns out pretty quick. He's not very good at realizing how angry he's getting and is prone to outbursts before he can stop himself. He physically gets hot, to the point of being burning to the touch. Dream is not one to hold grudges and wants to move on as quickly as possible, even if he shouldn't.

[calciumcryptid]

CalciumWatches: Never Let Me Go Episode One

This is a very dramatic opening.

Oh, hello daddy issues. That was quick. Not even a minute in.

Nueng: I understand I am not as important to my dad as his work is. // Mom: I'm glad you understand him. :) // Me: Wow.

The father does look punchable. I hope he gets punched.

Eighteen and already put to work. Damn. Rip Nueng.

His father is setting me aflame with anger.

There is going to be an arranged marriage sub-plot isn't there? I can sense it.

Oh, so the father has someone to carry his umbrella but his wife and son have to carry their own? I see how it is.

At least he is self-aware about being a shit dad.

Hmm, that is a suspicious amount of women in the cast. My arranged marriage plot line senses are tingling.

Oh, daddy dearest is dead? I said punched, not shot.

Damn. Okay. Wow. What???

Hmm, the intro is not helping my arranged-marriage senses.

His father JUST died, give the kid two seconds.

Since his father is out of the picture, can I be his step-parent? Nueng, no offense, but your mother is hot.

Oh good, I have a name for his mother. Hellooo Tanya.

The hottest woman, even though she is probably going to cause some mommy issues.

Who is this mysterious man? Men?

Sleeveless Pond, save me. Save me sleeveless Pond.

There is nothing hotter than a person in a white tank top.

I see Palm is a dramatic bitch. Lovely.

DAD???

NOT THE WHITE SHOES- I see you rich brat.

Oh, the pseudo-uncle is going to die.

Damn. No friends. Friendless.

I wonder if there is going to be a secondary couple in this.

I think I am supposed to be paying attention to the music club leader dude's obvious fat crush, but I am too distracted by the Christmas tree.

Oh, there is going to be some homoerotic shooting lessons aren't there?

Palm!

There is something up with Uncle Chanon. :/

Interesting first meeting.

Is one of the problems an arranged marriage (please say no).

Oh, Palm is smitten. You can't convince me otherwise.

[ Ad from where Legal Site got the Episode: Wait, hold on. When did this come out? 2022? When did KinnPorsche come out? Also 2022. That explains why I got a MileApo jumpscare (affectionate). ]

Nueng, why are you holding a gun? We both know you can't use it.

Right into the pool, standing close and awkward while on is half-naked. This is a bizarre thing to do with a man you met like not even twenty-four hours ago.

Oh, so Pond has the kicked puppy look patented.

Once again, bizarre thing to say to a guy you met not even twenty-four hours ago.

Oh, yay, Palm is having fun! Get that bag.

Nueng, why are you lurking?

Palm, why are you following?

Okay Boys Love. I am pretty sure the logistics of that happening are not in the narrative's favor. It is very funny, they both have a startled dog look but like Palm may naturally put his hand there but their bodies are not-

Sorry Nueng, I'm fairly sure you have a dog now.

Oh, the real uncle(?) emerges.

Tanya is a queen. I want her carnally.

Uncle Kit, as in fox kits?

Uncle Kit, that is a bizarre thing to say.

He isn't going to try and marry Tanya is he?

Oh that kid who followed him earlier is probably his son, isn't it? He wants to take over the business and have his son in line? Damn.

NOT THE FATHERS DAY EVENT! FOUL! VILE! EVIL SERIES!

Already offering to catch you, what a nice man.

That is like three boys love too close shots in one episode??? Damn.

I take it back, Nueng's father seemed absent but nice.

Oh damn, he was shot on his birthday. My brain skipped over that detail.

Oh, Nueng has a brain. Lovely. When are his braincells held hostage?

How am I suppose to feel about Nueng's dad? I can't tell.

That is the fourth time they've gotten very close together. Magnets.

Wait, no, this is so sad. Why is Nueng's request Palm being his friend? What is with these sad businessman, when I am I going to get a happy businessman? (Well, I guess Kinn was happy but in the dark romantic comedy way.)

Thanks dad for drafting me into being your boss son's bodyguard.

Hello Chopper, can't wait to meet you. I bet you are evil.

The face Nueng pulled when Ben got closer to him in the preview. I love this one specific face Phuwin makes. It is amazing.

[erigold13261]

:3 have some more headcanons

1. Joust and Quinda used Tatiana to cook food when the ghoulings were on tour

2. Remi and Zuke love Spiderman, you bet these two fangirled over spider verse

3. Mayday got Purl into MLP and we can all guess who his favor characters are (Obviously Twilight and Luna)

4. West got Mama to laugh once, she hissed at him out of anger but he saw Purl Hew and Yinu hiss at each other as a greeting so he thought it was a family thing and hissed right back in, honestly the most pathetic manner Mama had ever heard. That got her to think maybe this guy isn't all bad...

5. Eve and Dodo love obscure animated movie and shows

6. Eloni is huge Hollow knight and Undertale fan, she even wrote a bit of fanfiction

7. Nova watches lots of sci-fi movies and shows and will criticize any major inaccuracies

8. Sayu actually went to Hot topic a few times it's a nice place and ze owns a few items from there

9. Cyril's first fictional crushes were Venom and Rouge don't judge him!!

1). I just imagine the two trying to cook those popcorn stove top popcorn packages on her head as she sleeps in the tour bus or van and it not working because she isn't hot enough. But they keep trying and she wakes up and gets mad, making her fire light up and she just burns and melts the popcorn and container lol!

Joust and Quida still end up eating it because Quida can eat the plastic covered popcorn while Joust actually likes burnt popcorn. Elivy stayed far away from the whole mess, but got an earful from Kul Fyra as she complained to him.

2). It's a damn good movie! Of course they would love it! But also I can see Zuke having old comics that are torn at the edges from years of rereading and he brings them over one day for him and Remi to read together.

3). I actually would think Haym would, but honestly seeing both Haym and Mayday sit Purl down to watch MLP would be hilarious. I do agree that Purl would love Luna, but I am not sure about Twilight. Her behaviours, at least in early seasons, would make them not really like her. But they would probably come around, especially after she became a princess.

4). Her just full on with an enraged face hissing at West with absolute anger, and he just hisses back with happiness and a smile but also a really weak and shitty hiss as he's never really hissed before. Of course she would be so confused and flabbergasted that she would just start laughing. Confusing West as she literally walks away as she can't even talk for like 5 minutes.

West honestly thinks he somehow hissed out a joke or something that Mama understood and is so confused. He ends up asking Purl and Yinu, which gets Yinu to laugh a little and explain that Mama is not like them and only hisses in anger, so he literally just confused her into laughter. West apologizes to her and she tells him it's alright.

5). I have very little knowledge of what shows would be obscure, but I can totally see them sitting down and watching weird animated shows. One I remember is like called "Spliced" and I can see them watching that. With like horrified faces at times but still not stopping because they are interested in the strangeness.

Remi never understood this and finds the animation for a lot of these so bad or ugly that he can't even hate-watch these cartoons. But he will listen/watch Dodo and Eve talk about the shows after they are done watching them.

6). Yeah... Yeah I can see that, lol. Honestly they would read TONS of fanfictions for all kinds of games, but only write for a few that really peak their interest, So Undertale is definitely one of them (I don't know much about Hollow Knight but what I have seen would make me feel like Eloni would also write fanfics for it).

For other media though, she would definitely do deep dive analyses. I can imaging her having a whole youtube channel using computer generated voice (that sounds nice, the same one she uses for streams because thinking words into existence is easier than physically speaking for her) and would just have hours to DAYS of analysis content for all kinds of games, shows, and other media.

7). And you better believe that Zimelu is right there beside them asking all kinds of questions. The two will have a 6 hours movie session and only get through one 1.5 hour movie lol.

8). I am literally working on a punk design for all the NSR characters specifically because I wanted to make punk/goth Sayu lol! But oh yeah, totally ze would have stuff from there.

I have a ton of pink skirts and cutesy stuff, so I can see that getting mer into the store but then ze would love one of the darker more goth-y clothes and boom! Sayu is going through a goth phase! And the other mermaids are now following along (also Tila and Sofa lol).

9). Yes! Monster-fucker Cyril is definitely something I thought of before lol! He definitely has weird tastes. Monster and robots are some of them haha.

I swear, he told Purl that if somehow GLaDOS was real he would break up to be with her. And Purl said not to worry because they would do the same thing! The two just have such weird tastes and definitely share them together.

And then there's West not seeing the appeal in a lot of these crushes they have.

[penny00dreadful]

First Impressions - Chapter 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 AO3

As soon as Chrissy got back into the comfort of their home her tension dissipated and she started to gush about Robin.

Eddie tried to listen in, he really did, but his brain was stuck inbetween the sheer audacity of Dustin fucking Henderson and invasive images of golden veiny forearms and a full pouting mouth that looked like it was regularly swiped with at least chapstick and a downright bitchy attitude that dug it's fucking claws into him.

Chrissy was in the middle of a monologue about Robin’s terrible dancing before she cut herself off and narrowed her eyes at him, handing him a cup of her weird sleepy tea.

“You’re being unusually quiet.”

He took the cup from her and grimaced at the smell. “I can be quiet.”

“Eddie, you used to deliver sermons on lunch tables about conformity and set off bang snaps in the staff room, you are incapable of being quiet.”

He rolled his eyes and sipped his pungent tea. It tasted like ass but whether it was due to constant exposure or the placebo effect it did actually help him to fall asleep quicker.

Chrissy chewed the inside of her cheek, her gaze boring right through him. "Did you get a chance to talk with Steve?"

"Jesus, what is everyone's obsession with me and Harrington? Yes I spoke to him, but I needn't have. I don't know what kind of lightning strike you were expecting, Chris, but to me he seems to be the same vapid, vain and pompous ass as he always was. I'm just glad I never have to see him again."

Chrissy dropped her stare, and seemed suddenly very interested in her own cup of tea.

Eddie looked up at her from his position on the couch, letting his eyes linger as her cheeks steadily got redder and redder. 

If it's one thing that people didn't think Eddie Munson was, it was patient. But he'd spent his life waiting out his bully's tirades so he could verbally tear them down, waiting out his father's anger, locking himself in the bathroom until he could escape, waiting out a heated gaze across a dance floor until they came to him .

Chrissy continued to fidget under his stare before she eventually huffed and glared up at him with only a little irritation.

"Robin invited me to hang out with her tomorrow. Maybe see a movie. Said I could bring you if I wanted."

"You want me to third wheel your date with Robin?"

Chrissy scowled at him, the gesture not quite distracting from the click of her throat as she swallowed and fidgeted with her mug.

“It’s not a date. I’m not- I don’t like girls. Even if she does. That doesn’t make it a date.”

“She told you?”

She levelled him with an unimpressed look. “I know what it looks like when someone has a crush on me, Eds. I’ve seen it enough.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder, maybe preening just a little .

He couldn’t even be mad, Chrissy was hot as shit. He knew it. She knew it. It had taken him a long time to help her build her confidence level up to where it rightfully should be and that confidence looked damn good on her.

“You sure it’s only one sided? You spent the whole car ride talking about her hands .”

“She has nice hands!”

“Sure. If you say so.” He spoke into his mug, taking a large gulp of his disgusting tea, trying to figure out how to approach the next topic. “And you’re okay with that? Hanging out with someone who has a big lesbian crush on you?”

Chrissy almost looked offended that he’d even asked. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be? She’s sweet.”

Eddie shrugged, pulling her down to sit next to him, throwing his long skinny legs over hers and settling back into the arm of the chair. “In my experience, straight people are usually not okay with that.”

She tore her eyes away from his and began to pull the threads at the rips in his jeans and shrugged. 

The silence stretched on and Eddie could tell from her posture he wouldn’t be getting much more out of her on the topic so he switched. 

“Anyway, why would Robin inviting you to hang out mean I’d have to see Harrington again?”

“He’ll be driving us, she kinda panicked when she asked and invited Steve as well. So you came up as an option to join too.”

“As a fourth wheel?” Eddie dropped his head back and let out a long suffering groan. “Sorry, honey bunny, no can do. I am not suffering through that . Harrington is already there as your buffer in shining armour and you actually like him for some reason, which I do not understand. I think my day would be better spent vegetating.”

“You mean procrastinating dealing with your writer's block?” She smirked, lightly dragging her manicured nails over his bare knee where she knew he was ticklish.

He jerked his legs away and glared. “Don’t mention the war.”

They spent the next few minutes bickering back and forth as they finished off their nasty herbal concoction. Chrissy gulped it down eagerly. Eddie powered through. Eventually they both slouched off to their respective rooms.

He stood in the middle of his room, staring into nothing, eyes unfocused as he got lost in his head. His mind wandered back to hair. His hair. His stupid, styled, soft, swooping hair. So clean and voluminous and thick. What would it look like if it was dirty? Had the King ever deigned to let it get dirty? Did grime just fall off it like plastic? How would it look finally crushed or flattened after exercise? Flopping and damp with sweat or water from showers, pool water, lake water, sea water... maybe cut through with black goop and just a bit of blood. All fucked up and tugged in different directions from wandering hands-

Stop.

As he scrabbled desperately for the steering wheel in his mind, he wrenched it back into safer territory and far away from... whatever the fuck that was. He didn't want to think about it.

Unfortunately for him, safer territory was still torturous.

The damn insufferable writer's block was completely wrecking his head and had been haunting him for weeks. Why was it, the second he'd decided he might send something off to some publishers, he found himself completely stopped dead. 

Eirwen's story seemed to just drop off a cliff at the midway mark. 

She'd been trapped for a hundred years in her glass coffin, the bite of the poisoned apple didn't get dislodged from her throat as it did in the original fairy tale, instead dissolving into her body, freezing her in a stasis between life and death. She was put on display in the prince's castle, until his grandchildren, weirded out by his obsession over her beauty, stuck her up in the attic after he died. They ended up cracking the glass as they moved her and she'd broken free, swearing revenge on her stepmother and captors. She was now some feral undead thing driven only by bloodlust, donning the castle's old rusty armour and gripping ancient weapons and then-

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Oftentimes Eddie had the end of a story figured out before the middle but he was in the middle of the story now and there was just nothing. No ending, nothing else of the story. A blank empty void where the rest of the story should be.

It was difficult to explain. Inspiration came to him like lightning strikes and it could come at any time. He’d be out in the world and he’d see something or hear something or someone said something and it was like an entire story dropped into his head. It would need fleshing out but all the bullet points were there. And if they weren't all there then… there was nothing he could do. He couldn't force it. Couldn't make it happen. He just had to wait.  

Wait for something else to infect his mind and latch on.

He'd tried to force it before and it was just pathetic really. He had delivered one of the worst campaigns he'd ever written. Corroded Coffin never played the songs he wrote during that time. He'd burned those stories that he had dragged out of his brain. In those first few years it was like the earthquake had fucked his creativity so severely he thought it would never come back. 

But it had and now it seemed to have abandoned him again. A complete and utter blank space where stories used to run rampant. Right at the time he was trying to live out one of his many childhood dreams;

Go on tour with his super cool future band.

Publish a fantasy book that would have people lining up for the next in the series.

Find Santa Claus and make him explain why he never visited like he did with all the other kids.

Become an astronaut.

The book one had seemed the most achievable out of the four.

Eddie yanked himself out of his clothes, flinging them across his room in frustration, throwing himself down on his bed. He rubbed his face into his pillow before turning to glare at his typewriter.

This is all your fault.

Chapter continues on AO3

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

[kerra-and-company]

how has being raised by kerra influenced aurene’s personality? her approach to conflict?

bonus round: what’s one good thing aurene learned from kerra (intentionally or not!) AND what’s one bad thing? 😈

Ooh, this is a Good question, thank you so much :D

Assorted thoughts, in no particular order:

- Kerra's love for Aurene is entirely unconditional on whether or not Aurene ever ascended or fulfilled Glint's legacy. Literally the second Aurene hatched, that was her daughter, and she defended and loved Aurene in exactly that way. Kerra also believes destiny is a mutable, changeable thing. Glint had very specific prophecies that she believed in. Aurene got both of those perspectives growing up and holds both of them on close-to-equal footing.

- Kerra's incredibly used to interpreting what goes unsaid based on how someone's feeling (thanks to her empathy ability), so lacking spoken language with hatchling!Aurene is not as much of an issue for her. It's not a perfect communication method by a long shot, but Kerra's pretty damn adept at it, and Aurene struggles a lot less with being misunderstood (or just NOT understood).

- Aurene got a front-row seat to the rough dynamic between Kerra and Caithe during LWS3--not that they argued a ton in front of her or yelled at each other or anything like that, but there was a lot of discomfort/sadness/anger, and Aurene was tied into Kerra's feelings like Kerra was tied into hers. Aurene did actually get to witness the first time they really sat down and talked through a little bit of stuff, though. Accidental lesson in conflict resolution!

- Kerra visited Aurene every chance she got during LWS3 via the portal stone (LWS3 is by far the period in which Kerra does the most zooming around to different places). Aurene just overall gets to see her often, which is good. (Also, I'm trying to find a place to mention that Kerra always considers how Aurene's feeling about things, because that one line in LWS4 is maybe the most out-of-character commander line for Kerra in the game.)

- Kerra shares with Aurene the unique experience of being "destined" to fight and kill your grandfather, who's also an Elder Dragon. They share the intense focus and pressure during the respective times they're dealing with that issue (HoT and LWS4), too. The difference there (outside of the fact that Aurene is expected to Ascend and does and Kerra was not and did not) is that Kerra does lean on her support system during HoT as best she can while Aurene starts off trying to do as much as she can mostly solo. Kerra tracks her down and convinces her to rest and take care of herself a bit better, which is an interesting flipped-on-its-head scenario since someone had to do that to Kerra post-PS.

- Aurene's patience is something she gets from both Glint and Kerra, but so is her willingness to jump in and get personally and viciously involved in conflict. Her first impression of Kerra upon hatching (though she did know Kerra a bit before then as well) was that instant, fierce love--and someone willing to stand between her and any incoming foes with bared teeth and without a moment of hesitation. She's both diplomatic and willing to abandon that instantly if she thinks it's the right thing to do (see: the devourer at the All-Legion Rally, for instance).

For the bonus round--a random good thing: Aurene learned a decent amount about diplomacy techniques, which means Jormag throws her off less than they might have otherwise. As for bad things...there are probably more than this, but the one that's foremost in my brain at the moment: Aurene's willingness to jump in front of bullets (so to speak) was something unintentionally reinforced by the fact that Kerra does it on a fairly regular basis.

This Aurene is still very much Aurene. She's just colored a tiny bit by Kerra.

[campbluelake]

The betrayal of Christ // Hibiki // Trial 4.4 // Re: everyone

CW: implied grandparent death

Hibiki weathers their resentment, their anger, their spite, their sneering judgment. It’s quite alright by him. He came to the camp knowing his end of the bargain, and he mentally prepared himself for the consequences for the first time in his life. Of course it stings. Of course it hurts. But he’s shielded by his stubbornness to never make friends, his refusal to be vulnerable.

He shakes his arm, putting out the flame, and sits back down on his chair, now lazily draping his legs over one of the arm rests, chin resting against his hand.

His gaze stops on each of the people around him, disciples surrounding Judas who sold their precious friend for pittance, acknowledging it all. Kyousuke and his rageful protection, Abbie and her magical advice, Eri and her raised fists, Malyce and his quiet suffering,  Max and his sincere interest, Yua and his confusion. Hibiki chuckles, eyes lingering the longest on Saya, the only one who is yet to have made assumptions on him. He doesn’t nod, just blinks like a cat at her in acknowledgement, red-green eyes like lamps in the darkness.

Then Hibiki focuses, eyes closing for a moment as he deliberates.

Where to start, where to start, where to start….

“You all have immeasurably big words for someone with so little information. So… I feel like it’s best to start at the beginning before you get too lost in your theories, bless your hearts for trying.” He gets comfortable as he says so, nesting in his oversized chair. This’ll take a while.

[♫♫♫]

“Max… was it worth it? Not really, in the end. But I had very little choice in it, at least in the beginning. You see, I made the deal when I was just a child. Right here at this camp, actually. You know how children like to play around and prove to each other their bravery, chant Bloody Mary three times in the mirror and such? I did that but with a devil deal.” He laughs, a bright one, like telling a funny joke.

“I didn’t know the deal was real for years. I just buried a note at a crossroads, and that was that, a little summer fun. But for whatever reason my life really took off after it. I got to the best art school possible with all costs covered, I became popular, famous in the young artist circles. I had vision - literally! I painted things I saw in my dreams, I had a muse in me, even if at the time I didn’t know where it came from. I sold my first presented painting, Ode 9, for one million dollars, an unheard sum as a first timer…”

“And when I did, a devil called M…MMm.. MMMmm..” As he tries to continue, seems Hibiki’s mouth just… ceases to function. He cannot open it, and there’s a momentary struggle. “FINE, then, you old bastard, fine!”

A scoff. “Anyways, a devil appeared to me and asked for recompense. Something small for its troubles. I remember verbatim what it told it would take “Something you wouldn’t even know to miss.” Well, I never knew to miss what it took from me, for sure, since I forgot the damn thing even existed. After the payment our deal was over, and we went our separate ways.”

“For a while, at least. My sales plummeted after my deal with the devil was over, after my visions stopped. Seems I wasn’t special without them, after all. And so I… contacted the devil again, now that I knew how to, and I renewed the deal, not really understanding what it even meant.”

There is a flash of genuine emotion, one Hibiki is too lost in memories to hide. He feels something tight curl in his chest, a feeling of regret deeper than he thought impossible to feel. Like embers in his chest, a hot iron pressing against his insides.

“After this, the devil came to me once every three years to collect its dues. And it took everything from me. My parents. My siblings. My grandpa. My lover. The things it stole were the memories of these people, but, well, when it fed on them, the… the devil erased these things from existence, not just from my memories. It’s like none of these people ever existed, they became blank spaces for everyone who could once remember them. On paper and in photos, they existed. But nobody could quite remember who they were, just empty statistics.”

“Hhaha… What is the past but a collection of memories? What is existence, but the things we remember? If you were to cease remembering, would you cease to exist?” He stops for a moment, eyes closed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking a deep swig from it.

“So, Kyousuke, I could in fact remember my past just fine. I wasn’t lying about that, technically. Just couldn’t remember the people in it.” Hibiki smiles at him, the guarded, lazy grin back on his face, an untouchable mask.

“But now… now that has changed…Why do you think I killed so eagerly? So zealously?”

“You see, I now have the memories back. All of them. My mother, my father, my siblings, my grandpa,  my lover, even the damned ring the devil took from me, I finally remember it all. I may not be free just yet, but, now that I remember them, maybe my family is!” Hibiki laughs, almost like a nervous tick, a way for him to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t feel remorse, and I don’t want your pity. I came here knowing that I’d probably have to do something pretty horrific, anyways. In fact, this is the one good thing I’ve done in my entire life. Because maybe, maybe, my family is now back. And it’s worth it for Leon to die just for the chance that I can undo what I did.” 

He relaxes visibly, eyes once more closed, like a great weight he’s been carrying is now gone. Even if the regret still presses into his chest like a hot coal, he can finally, for the first time in fifteen years, breathe.

“I chose Leon because of a dream vision. I didn’t know how long it would take for the poison to affect him, and I got … impatient. Uncertain. He drank the damn blue water and lived, and I couldn’t rule out the fact that he could be some unnatural entity. So, I wanted to make extra sure he died. A double whammy, if you will. Cause an anaphylactic shock and then burn him, no way he would survive that…. and he didn’t, of course.” He speaks of it matter of factly and genuinely shows no signs of regret, only relief.  

“So.. that about sums my sordid tale. I’ve been telling you all since the beginning; I never wanted to befriend any of you in case someone here tried to kill me… or in case I killed someone. No hard feelings over that on my part, but this is a bit of a “told you so” moment.”He stops.. and then reconsiders, as if remembering one last thing he needs to say.

“Oh, and Saya? Sure, you can have the booze. It’s not like I’ll be drinking much when I’m dead. I shared it with you for a reason to begin with.”

[loon-in-a-box]

Avonia-In the dead of Summer.

The weatherman had said it would be hot. His voice had scratched through Valor’s radio between Theatre-Five productions as Valor crawled out from under the car in the driveway. The house loomed behind the car in such a way Valor was just waiting for it to destroy Valor.

Valor should have known he meant blistering. The sky was a pale blue endless void with a burning pin-prick for the sun. The birds stopped chirping days ago. There have been no signs of animals.

During the day, no neighbors would breach their homes for anything but work and grocery shopping had become an evening activity. This was as close to a world-ending apocalypse as Valor had ever been and hoped to ever be. The house was stifling as Valor lay in the master bedroom. The record player kept playing the same few songs over and over as the house ground around Valor. It was angry Valor was still inside it. Angry that Valor no longer left during the day. Valor would just wait, wait for something to go wrong. Valor would wait for the house to kill Valor. It was very clear that it wanted to.

Out in the front yard, the grass had turned a pale yellow and crunched underfoot. Small holes had appeared on the asphalt of the road from where the heat had been too much. Everything baked under the summer sun. 

The blinds were closed tight and tinfoil had been taped to the glass in a vain attempt to keep out the heat. Fans ran constantly. Besides the single window unit, there was no air conditioning in the house. 

The heat kept getting worse and the master bedroom always seemed the hottest. Valor fled down to the basement days ago. Even with the sun setting, it only dipped into the low eighties. It had been a record-breaking heatwave, the news report announced in a jolly, but dead tone.

One night, in the hot humid heat, the house shuddered around the Valor. The basement was no longer sufficient on its own, so Valor took the AC unit out of the bedroom window. It weighed more than Valor thought it would. Valor then dragged it around the front of the house to one of the basement windows. Below Valor's feet, dead grass had crunched loudly in the still night air. After an hour of sweating, Valor got it set up. 

After that, Valor dragged an extra mattress down into the basement, foregoing anything but a single pillow and a top sheet. Valor had given up on the rest of the house. Valor would have left the house altogether, abandoned its anger and grief to spend this hellish time in a hotel, but the damn bird.

A three-year-old dove by the name of Agnes. One of the last remnants of Valor’s grandfather. One that arrived long after Valor had been banned from seeing him.

Before the heat rose to unmanageable levels the dove would be gone until sunset. The heatwave caused her to wander the house, cooing sadly. The house’s anger left the dove along. It was only interested in abusing Valor. After a while, Valor carried the small panting thing down the stairs. She had been the final thing that needed to be transported down. Valor and the dove had an uneasy alliance. The heat forced the bird inside. It forced Valor to move the dove’s items into the bedroom where the AC was. 

In the end, Valor’s grandfather cared more about the dove than anything else. The damned thing must have known it too. It looked at Valor with a haughtiness only those favored by the rich and old can hold. Valor sets the dove down in her enclosure, not that it would stay there. Agnes left the second Valor was out of reach. Valor gave it a halfhearted glare. 

The house was old, nearing its 120th birthday. Something carved into the east wall of the master bedroom reminded Valor each morning. Valor had a slight feeling the house only tolerated Valor. It was in the way the house creaked underfoot. The way doors used to stick and light bulbs used to burn too quickly. It was in the way Valor always stubbed a toe. The House was worse right after Valor’s grandfather died and Valor moved in, grief and rage, Valor thought. Then the house hated Valor. Hated everything Valor did.  

Nights were filled with the sound of every inch of the old place creaking and the sound of doors slamming. Valor ignored it. Valor spent the days following the house’s tantrum fixing all the little broken things. Keeping the dove healthy. Valor knew it was the blood relation to the house’s first owner and the creator that kept Valor somewhere close to safe. Even in the basement everything creaked and whined. 

Valor felt the splinter slide into the palm of Valor’s hand. Valor did not curse. Valor did not acknowledge it. Valor removed the hand from the stair railing. Valor stepped into the bathroom and grab the pair of tweezers. With ease, Valor pulled out the splinter and placed it on the counter. The house would want it back.

Worse than the dove was the backyard. When Valor was young and was still allowed to visit, Valor’s parents demand that the backyard would always be off-limits. 

Valor’s grandfather would try to coax Valor out into it. He had called it the Holt, whatever the hell that meant. Valor had never been able to disobey direct commands from Mother and Father. Valor had only viewed it through windows and an open door. It was more than just a garden in every sense of the word. It sat on almost all three acres of the plot. Sprawling out and up against the towering stone walls. 

Unlike the neighbor’s backyards, it was still alive. It was thriving. Bees buzz and hummingbirds zoom about. 

Green grass and vibrant flowers looked back at Valor. Rising above the dense foliage was a single fruit tree in the center of the living green mass. Valor should not be able to see it so clearly. Valor should be able to see it from the front yard, Valor can not.

It filled Valor with a sense of dread. Ground cover plants crept over the stone patio towards Valor’s uncovered feet. The Holt waited. Waited in a way Valor could not understand. Underneath the ground was an intricate system of pipes to deliver water to the plant life. In the months, over a year, that Valor had been existing within the property, the pipes had never broken. Nor had a water bill arrived for the Holt. It was still a fear that held Valor at night when sleep came. Nightmares of broken pipes and debt-making bills in blood-red ink on bone-white paper playing on a loop. 

Valor twisted the spigot and the hose connected to the pipes tightened as water rushed through. Racing down and into the garden. Valor heard the animals rejoice from the water being sent into the property. 

Tapping on the backdoor caused Valor to turn. Fluttering against the glass was Anges. Valor creaked the door open enough to speak. The dove settled on the counter. Head twitching impatiently. 

“It's still hot out and I’m not staying long.” Valor’s voice was rough and it hurts in Valor’s throat. “If you don't come back after I call the second time, you can spend the night out here.” Valor had muttered. The door swung open and the dove went flying out. Valor stepped back inside to scoop up a cup of shelled peanuts for the squirrels and chipmunks that come to bother Valor. 

Valor settled onto the warm cement on the ground, it soothed the ache in Valor’s body, on Valor’s skin. The sound of peanuts rattling in the plastic cup brought forth tiny bodies emerging from the foliage and a thrumming of tiny feet in the undergrowth. On the edge of the pavement, they begin to line up. With a practiced flick, a peanut skitters to the first in line. They don't get close to Valor. Always keep a certain distance. The animals liked Valor a bit more than the house. Not much. If it weren’t for the food, they would be a menace too. They were before Valor figured out how to keep them at bay. 

The garden was more complicated. The Holt had never done anything. It never hid Valor’s things in places like the house. It never threw things against the windows like the animals. It just sat. It sat and waited. Valor didn’t know what it wanted. Valor was at a loss of what pleased the mass or what angered it. 

So Valor watered it twice a day. Once before bed and right after waking up. Twenty-five minutes, just like Grandfather did. This seemed to keep it content. Nothing seemed to be dying. Not that Valor would have known. The instructions left had been clear. Valor was not allowed in unless invited. That was a terrifying thought. That Valor could be invited. 

The last peanuts had land and then the animals left. Valor stood up. Bushy tails scrambled over the dried-up pond, past the empty bird feeders, and back into the dark undergrowth.

“Agnes! Agnes! It’s time to come back.” Valor called out. Voice cracking out halfway. Valor carefully avoided the word home. Whatever this was, it was not Valor’s home. Valor wasn’t sure if it was still a house, or something so full of anger and grief pretending to be a house. Valor wasn’t even sure it was Agnes’s home. Valor didn’t know why the dove bothered to come back. Valor didn't care for the dove the way Valor’s grandfather did. Valor didn't know what the dove used to get. The instructions didn't say anything. Valor had to scrape together the bird’s diet and treats from old dairies and the internet. Valor’s jaw tenses. The ache in Valor’s chest had begun to rise again. Tears building up. The urge to rip the skin from bone and other things rises to the surface. Valor takes a breath. “Agnes! Come back!” Valor wouldn’t leave the bird out here. Valor will always wait. 

After another minute or so, the frantic flutter of wings echoes out. Agnes flies right at Valor. The bird lands on Valor’s shoulder. This was a rare occurrence. It had only happened twice. Once when a stray cat had got in the backyard. The bird had used Valor as protection. The second time was during a storm. Valor didn't understand why the bird would choose to seek comfort from Valor, but Valor was deeply glad to give it. The bird coos quietly into Valor’s ear, almost as an apology. 

“It's okay.” Valor says quietly. The backdoor opens easily for once. The stairs don't creak and no splinters lodge themselves into Valor’s hand. It's probably because the bird was still nestled on Valor’s shoulder.

Agnes refuses to go into the enclosure. Valor glares at the bird but gives in. Agnes flies over to perch above the mattress Valor had dragged down. Valor gave in. The bird knew it too. Cooing loudly.  Valor climbs back upstairs to get ready. Then back down. Valor’s legs ached. It was something that can and will be ignored. Agnes was asleep by the time Valor turns the lights off and crawls onto the mattress.

Valor should have known the heat would win. Valor was sick. Bedbound and weak, Valor spends an unknown chunk of time in and out of sleep. Body weak and shaky. Valor couldn’t even focus on much. Having only been conscious enough to get Agnes more food too. 

Valor’s immune system had always been shitty. Catching colds and stomach bugs before anyone else. It's been a long time since someone else was there when Valor fell sick. No one was around to witness the mess Valor becomes. Needy and whiny. Valor spends most of it curled up on the mattress, completely out of it and useless to the house. 

Something calls for Valor, from outside. Over and over. Valor ignores it. Valor ignores the familiarity of the voice. There was no one in the Holt. There was no one in the Holt. 

Valor knows that was untrue. There must have been a trespasser or two, stepping over an unseen property line. From one danger to another. There was a groundskeeper. Valor didn't remember much of him. Valor was forbidden from talking to him. Valor hid often. Grandfather would speak with him.

There was no one in the Holt.

When Valor finally recovered enough to think, Valor refilled Agnes’s water. Much to the bird’s delight. The railing was smooth below Valor’s hand. The house didn't creek. Valor was unaware of the time-just the impending doom of not watering the garden. Valor swayed in the hallway, the world becoming full of  Valor had to take a moment to become steady again. Valor was pushing too hard. Valor wasn’t pushing enough. It was just a little thing. Valor didn't even throw up this time. Out in the backyard, Valor turned the water on and slumped down against the house. Hands shaking and vision going blurry. Agnes cooed out from somewhere deep in the garden.

The Holt was upset. Valor can tell by the vines that have crept up the walls and over the pavement. Nearly inside the house. The garden was upset by the way it got loud the second Valor stepped outside. Valor stumbles over to turn on the water before collapsing.

There was more rustling and Valor weakly flung a handful of peanuts into the grass. Valor was not getting up anytime soon. Valor would just bake away in the sun. Valor didn't even know what caused this. Nothing Valor had interacted with should have given sickness. The basement was cool enough, so how can Valor exhibit symptoms of heatstroke? 

Agnes came back. Valor didn’t think she would. Valor had honestly expected this to be the end of any relationship Valor had with the bird. 

“What?” Valor asked the bird. Agnes hoped towards the garden. “No.” Valor’s head shakes. “I’m not going in there.” Agnes coos before flying off. Valor’s eyes flutter shut. The heat was awful, and the sun burns, but Valorwas exhausted. 

Agnes came back. She flapped above Valor and a shower of cold water connected with Valor’s skin. Valor ignored it. Agnes leaves and comes back twice. The water feels nice. 

“I’m not allowed-” Valor faltered. Mother is dead and Father can’t remember anything after his third wedding anniversary. Valor arrived after the seventeenth wedding anniversary. Valor was an accident. “-in without an invitation. You know that.” Agnes cooed and was gone once more. Valor thought this was the end. Things happen in three. After the third ‘no’ people usually stop, usually. 

Something comes out of the Holt. Loud and crashing. It shakes the foundation of the house. Valor’s eyes snap open. A massive blurry figure stands at the edge of the Holt. Valor jerks upright and tilts to one side.  It’s too hot. Valor’s skin was wrong. Valor wants it gone. 

If Valor was a fool, Valor would call him a man, but Valor knows when something had come from the earth. Valor waited. Valor baked in the sun. Agnes landed on his shoulder.

“You’re invited now.” Valor was. Valor knew this. 

“What was the cost of that?”

“There was no cost, not for you.” He said, his voice was shaking. Slowly it came to Valor. He had not known Valor was suffering in the house. Whatever was in the Holt, he thought would stop Valor’s suffering. “You’ve paid your dues, an eternity of them.” He was shaking, bare feet touching the edge of the patio. Valor’s head tilted. The patio was not the house, the patio was not the garden.

“What’s in the Holt?” Valor asked, stepping closer to him. The world spun and Valor felt a throbbing all over. Black spots had arrived at the edge of Valor’s vision. 

“Unfamilirty, kindness.” 

“What’s in the house?” He faltered. Valor knew the answer. Valor wanted to know if he would say it.

“Familiarity, indifference.” 

“Not hatred? Hostility?” The house shuddered behind Valor’s back. 

“You’ve been good to the house, far more than it deserves.” The house didn't argue. Valor hated the house. Not the building, but everything that makes it Grandfather's home. Valor hated the house because it knew whom Valor used to be. Valor can still remember when the house was home when Valor’s bedroom still existed. There used to be waffles, there used to be board games. 

Valor hated the garden. Not the plants, but everything that makes it the Holt. Valor hated the garden because it does not know whom Valor used to be. Valor can still remember the garden when it was paradise and when Valor’s pond still existed. There used to be koi fish, there used to be ducks.

Valor does not hate the house, the garden, the man before Valor, or the bird on his shoulder. Here is a secret that nobody knows, the only thing Valor hates is Valor. 

Valor stepped off the patio.

[holyirone]

for there is nothing better than knowing you are seen and heard .

the moon.

You are embers after the flame. You are strength with its teeth bared. You are the warrior who won’t stay down. I don’t know where you got all this anger from, but here, here. Let me fight it for you, if only for a night. Here, here. There is armor strong enough to survive it.

tagging    »    anyone who sees this & wants to do this.

[amaradangeli]

Make up sex🤭

She seethes. "Stop. Talking."

"You've been talking for about four straight hours. It's my fucking turn." He uses his size against her, and he hates himself for it, but only for a second. Her eyes flash when the door frame bites into her back and it's not all anger. They've been driving here all day — edgy and angry, snippy, pissy — to this very place, all the way from Las Vegas.

"Watch it."

He hip-checks her, presses his body against hers. "What?"

"Don't talk to me like that."

She flattens her hands against his torso, he braces himself for her to push him away, but her hands trace the tense muscles of his abdomen, curve with his ribcage, dig into the soft flesh between his ribs.

"Then shut up, Lucy."

"You don't get to be an asshole just because—"

"Yes, damn it!" He raises his voice, doesn't quite shout, but he sees the way she clenches her jaw against it. "Right now I do get to be an asshole because you scared the shit out of me Lucy and you don't seem to give a damn."

She makes a nasty, dirty sound of dissent. "I did my job, Tim. And you don't get to be pissed about that." She does push against him then, but it's not about space, it's about control.

He's not giving it to her. Still, he's not going to just take it, either. "Push me again, Lucy, or I'm going to know exactly what this is about."

Instead, she vibrates with something that's like tension but more interesting. Her hips open up to him and he settles against her. He can look straight down into the shadow of her cleavage. "You were reckless."

"I was bold."

He huffs and drops his head. He can smell the base notes of the perfume she put on twenty hours ago and it's dark. It smells like he knows she's going to taste, where the crease of her thigh is slick and telling. He presses his lips against the shell of her ear. "You're impulsive."

"I'm confident." She drags the fake nails against his skin, prevented from doing damage by his t-shirt. She turns her face up and into him and forces a kiss, her lips sliding against his, the flat of her tongue dragging against the side of his. She tastes like the cherries in the ginger ale she'd ordered from the drive-thru when they got back into town, placing orders without looking at each other.

She tastes like the most dangerous decision he's made all weekend.

She licks the sharp edge of his jaw. He can feel the drag of her tongue against his five o'clock shadow. While he's distracted by the blood pulsing in his groin she gets her hands under his t-shirt and the nails raking against his skin are definitely going to leave a mark. He hisses his pleasure against her ear, catches her earlobe between his teeth and pushes the guttural sound she makes back into her mouth with his fingers.

Her tongue is slick, her mouth hot. He fingers the sharp edge of a molar and she wraps her tongue around the interloper, swallows, her mouth feeling too much like the next place he's putting his dick.

His fingers are wet with her saliva when he sticks them in her pants. Then his fingers are wetter, slicker. Hotter. She makes another intoxicating sound that lasts three times longer than it takes to slide his index finger along the side of her clit. He can't get inside her with his wrist pressed between her belly and the button of her jeans and he can feel her hands between them, thinks she's going to help him, loosen her pants, but instead he feels her use those dangerous acrylics to bite into his cock, then into his balls, the denim slaking the pain enough to make it feel only good.

It's the feeling good that reminds him that she's not just somebody who pissed him off today, and she's definitely not some nobody he can take his frustration out on pressed against the doorframe in his entry. She's more.

He pushes his erection into her hand, his body keeping the pace they'd set but he checks in, looks her in the eye. "Hey."

She stops, pulls back just enough for both their gazes to clear a little. "Hey."

"You good?"

"I'm good. You good?"

"Yeah."

She surges back into him and kisses him. She's still angry, he can taste it, but he thinks that while they might still kill each other tonight, she's not really out to murder him.

Then her hand is in his pants and feels those nails behind his balls and he hisses. "Fuck."

"Yeah. Let's." She does push him now, but she follows, in the general direction of his bedroom.