#which was not great in this instance since we were supposed to be leaving then

[kerosene-saint]

I really don't realize just how bad my sleep quality is when I don't take my medication that has the side effect of knocking me out 30 minutes after I take it

[ghoulette-knell]

Little Dove

Mountain x Fem!Reader

⛧⛧⛧ Requests are Open ⛧⛧⛧

Swiss is making fun of you for being a virgin, and Mountain decides to help you out with that.

🔞MDNI🔞

TW: Size Difference; Size Kink; Cunnilingus; Fingering (female receiving); Friends with Benefits; Age Gap; Fondling; Aftercare.

Word Count: 7,108

It was a beautiful Sunday evening. Usually, it was seen by Catholics that Satanists would despise Sundays due to the day's religious significance, but that wasn't the case at all. Your ministry was indifferent to them, but you weren't. Sundays were your favourite. It was an excuse to make a coffee, sit in the Ghoul common room by the great window, and read a book as you ended your day. It was your only day off, and you looked forward to it every day of the week.

Of course, you'd never get a moment of silence when Swiss was around. The man thrived on pranking everyone in the ministry, and you were the target of his antagonizations today.

“Poor little (Y/N)! 18 years old, and still a virgin!” the voice of Swiss taunted you from across the room as you sat down in a comfy loveseat with a mug of coffee, “You’re the only Ghoul in the whole ministry who’s never been laid! Why is that? You know Satan rejoices in fucking! Why are you holding yourself back when you know the Olde One wants this for you?"

Mountain, who was also in the room, frowned as he heard Swiss’ words to you. He didn’t like that at all.

You blushed intensely at Swiss' words, almost choking on your coffee as you took a small sip. You coughed lightly, your face beet-red, "W-What are you talking about?" you wheezed, taken aback by the older Ghoul's comment regarding your apparent virginity.

It was so unprecedented and uncalled for… typical Swiss. He really had no filter which made him VERY obnoxious.

“Everyone knows you’re a virgin, sweetheart! It’s the talk amongst us Ghouls,” Swiss continued, “It’s so pathetic, everyone is teasing me for never having gotten into your bed yet! Everyone thinks it’s so strange we haven’t gotten together. I suppose they’re right, aren’t they? So, what’s the hold-up?” he said as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for your response.

Your eyes flickered momentarily over to Mountain. Subconsciously, you were waiting for Mountain. He had been your best friend ever since you were summoned from Hell to join the ministry, and you had fallen in love with him… you didn't know how it happened.

"I'm not interested in you like that, Swiss," you mumbled while taking an awkward sip of your coffee; your cheeks flooding red from embarrassment.

Swiss chuckled, “I find that hard to believe,” he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, “it’s probably because you’re too shy? Come here. I can help with that.”

Swiss motioned for you to sit on his lap, causing your cheeks to blush even brighter, but Mountain stepped forward with a determined look on his face. The earth-ghoul's tail lashed in aggravation. Swiss had crossed a line.

��Stay away from her, Swiss,” Mountain snarled, “and don’t you ever try to touch her again!” Swiss sneered and turned his attention to Mountain, but kept quiet.

It was obvious that Swiss was intimidated, as Mountain was much larger and stronger than the multi-Ghoul. Swiss was like a child whenever it came to height and body mass compared to Mountain.

You looked up at Mountain from your place in the chair and smiled warmly, gracious that your friend was willing to help you out like that.

"Thanks, Mountain. I appreciate it," you whispered while lightly rubbing Mountain's hand with your pinky.

Mountain squeezed the pinky of your hand and nodded his head, clearly having been affected by your touch in this instance. His expression was serious, but his demeanour was also affectionate... only towards you, anyways.

“Don’t worry about him,” he told you, “We all know Swiss is a creep.”

"I think he's just lonely," you murmured while watching Swiss leave the room, fuming. Of course, Swiss had no defense for his shitty actions, "That's why he picks fun at me being a virgin. He just wants companionship and doesn't know how to... verbalize it. He's not a creep. He just needs to recognize that I don't like him like that."

Mountain considered your words carefully as he glanced across towards the door where Swiss had left. It is true, perhaps Swiss really did just want a relationship to fill the empty hole inside his life. It didn't excuse his words, though.

“Well, he’s not acting very nicely, now, is he?” Mountain said, “I hate to see him try to manipulate you with the whole virginity thing, it ain’t right.”

You shrugged and took another sip of your coffee, “I know. I try not to let him bother me though. It’s not worth it. I can’t help it, so why let it bother me? I know I’m the only Ghoul… with my virginity left, but there’s nothing wrong with that. I do a lot of other sinful things to please Lucifer."

Mountain sighed as he listened to the reasoning of your words. You had a point. You were happy being a virgin... or comfortable, rather, and despite the teasing you took from others, you felt content with your situation. There was no reason for him to get upset at your own choices.

“I’m impressed, really. I could never be as confident as you in this same situation,” he said sincerely as he looked down at you.

Your tail flicked slightly as you shrugged, “I don’t really have a choice to not be confident. I can’t change my… situation, and I sure as hell not going to lose my virginity to Swiss. My time will come eventually, I hope.”

“It will, I promise,” Mountain replied with a smile, his demeanour soft and gentle. It wasn’t every day he got to have a heart-to-heart with you, and he wanted to make it worth every moment.

“I just don’t know why the others are so focused on something so trivial,” he said as he brushed a small lock of hair away from your eyes, “It shouldn’t matter.”

Your face lit up subtly as Mountain lovingly pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. You leaned into your friend’s touch, sighing in contentment, “You always understand me, Mountain. Thank you for your words.”

With those words, something within Mountain seemed to break. He had felt this way for too long, he couldn’t keep pretending that it was going to go back away, he needed to say something. The earth-ghoul felt like a bottle of pop that had just received a line of mintos... he was about to explode.

“I want to ask you a question, Little Dove,” he said, now looking directly at you and using the nickname he had given you a while ago, “and I’d like for you to be honest with me in your answer, okay?”

You slowly grasped Mountain’s hand and held it in yours as he spoke. You looked up at him with a small, close-lipped smile, and nodded, “Sure, Mountain. What’s up?”

In that moment, a small, shy grin graced Mountain’s lips as he noticed the close grip you had on his hand. “I may be overstepping a boundary, so again, I want you to be honest with your answer,” he said, “Do you… want me to help you with your virginity issue...?”

You blushed wildly and stared up at your friend, “M-Mountain. That is not what I was expecting you to say…”

You covered your face with your hands to try and block away your blush from your amused friend.

Mountain couldn’t help but grin as he saw the way you were flushed red. His eyes took notice of the pink hue that had overtook your face instantly, a purr vibrating deep in his chest.

“So...is that a yes?” he asked with a coy grin, knowing his offer was most likely a welcome one.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared up at your friend.

“I-I don’t know, Mountain. I don’t want to risk ruining our friendship."

Mountain was glad to see that you did consider your friendship. He respected you and your opinions, after all, you two had been friends for such a long time... ever since you were summoned, anyways. Mountain did not wish to damage the special bond that the two of you shared, as it was equally as important to him as it was for you.

“I completely understand,” he said kindly as he squeezed your hand, “But, just know, the offer still stands if you’re too nervous and want someone you already trust to help you out.”

You squeezed his hand back and peered up towards him. You were so unbelievably nervous, but he was right. There was no one you would rather lose your virginity to than Mountain. You trusted him more than anyone else.

You hesitated for a moment, sensing Mountain’s unease at your silence.

“You’re really willing to help me out?”

Mountain laughed slightly at your nerves. He certainly found your flustered personality adorable, but he also recognized just how tense you had gotten. This was a sensitive topic, and the drummer wished to take it as seriously as possible.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” he said as he squeezed your hand, and his eyes shifted their gaze towards the entrance, looking towards where Swiss had left. “Why don’t we get out of here…”

You squeezed Mountain’s hand and slowly got to your feet; abandoning your now-cold coffee on the table, alongside your book. Your knees were shaking from nerves, but this felt right. You were nervous because this was the unknown. It was like when a mortal had stage fright regarding public speaking, or fear of anesthesia because they'd never had surgery before. You had never done this before, but Mountain would take care of you.

“I’m a little scared,” you whispered while looking up at Mountain as he walked you down the halls towards his quarters, “Will it hurt?”

Mountain smiled at the way you seemed to cling to him, it was adorable in a sense to see just how comfortable you were with him.

“Don’t worry, Little Dove,” he said in a voice filled with affection as he guided you to his room, “I would never hurt you. It may be a little uncomfortable your first time, but it gets much, much, much better afterwards. You’ll see…”

You felt his hand clasp your back affectionately, your nerves beginning to calm as he used your nickname. Little Dove. He always called you that when he knew you were nervous or uncomfortable.

“Okay,” you murmured while gripping onto his sleeve like a frightened child, “I trust you.”

A gentle smile graced Mountain’s features as he guided you into his room, which was only a few steps away from the common room, and closed the door behind the both of you. The room was covered in shadow, save for the soft moonlight streaming in through the window.

“Now, then.” he began, his voice soft and reassuring, “Why don’t you go lay on the bed for me.”

You swallowed nervously and walked over, kicking your shoes off before sitting down on Mountain’s bed. You slowly laid back, your head laying on Mountain’s pillows. You laid still and motionless, still quite nervous.

You couldn't help but marvel over how much larger Mountain's bed was to yours. You only slept in on a twin mattress, but Mountain had at least a king to accommodate his impressive height. You felt so small laying in his bed. Oh, Lucifer... why were you thinking about that right now? That was such an insignificant detail, yet here you were-- dwelling on it.

It was obvious that Mountain would have to guide your every move.

He stood at the side of the bed, taking a seat on the floor as he looked over you, his expression one of care.

“Relax, I promise to take care of you and take things slow,” he said in a comforting and affectionate tone, “Are you comfortable like that or would you like for me to do something to ease your stress? I can turn the light off, if that helps? Or I could lay next to you, if that would make you feel more at ease…”

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, your face softening at how sweet Mountain was being, “Thank you. Just do what you’re doing. I’m fine, I promise. Just a little nervous. I do trust you though.”

You laid your hand on Mountain’s clothed chest, rubbing the surface slowly. Your breathing began to slow down as you grew more comfortable with the situation.

Mountain felt the warmth of your touch as your hand rubbed the surface of his chest. A small smile grew on his lips as he watched your chest expand with your breath. The sound of your breathing was soft and gentle, matching the essence of the moonlight pouring in.

He felt your trust within that moment, a trust that Mountain would protect you and take care of you.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” he said softly as he placed his hand on top of where yours was, his hand now innocently resting upon your breast, “How are you feeling?”

You blushed lightly in response to the drummer's touch, “I’m feeling better,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

The lightness of your trust filled Mountain with a warmth that he couldn’t describe. Even in this moment of nervousness and anxiety, he still heard nothing but your calm voice and soft breathing. No words seemed to be needed between the two of you as he lightly rubbed his palm over your chest.

“I am glad you trust me like this,” he whispered back, “I can tell that this is scary for you, but I promise you have nothing to fear. I will take care of you and go at your own pace.”

"Thank you, Mountain," you whispered, barely audible while pressing your lips softly to his knuckles as he lightly rubbed over your chest, "I think I'm ready to start... you can do whatever you need to do. I will follow your lead."

Mountain’s cheeks flushed as you kissed his knuckles, but the sensation only made the moment feel even more intimate. Your trust in him was touching his heart, causing the bond between the two of you to strengthen even more.

“Okay, my Little Dove-“ he whispered back, “I’m going to pull your shirt off of you… is that alright?”

You were still incredibly nervous, but you felt safe at the same time. The way Mountain was verbally walking you through what was happening really made your heart soar with adoration and love towards the older Ghoul.

You nodded your head and relaxed your body, your eyes staring up at Mountain with hazy desire, "Yes, that is okay, Mountain."

As he heard your permission, Mountain took the bottom of your shirt and began to gently pull it up your body. The action made the small hairs on your arm stand up as the fabric of the shirt rubbed against your soft flesh.

He then ran the palm of his hand against your exposed skin, feeling the warmth that your body was radiating through its touch.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Dove."

A soft blush formed over your cheeks as your stomach was exposed to the Ghoul. You still had your bra on, but that quickly changed as you stuck your thumb underneath the strap and pulled it up and over your head, "You're too kind, Mountain," you mumbled shyly while rolling your shoulders slightly, staring longingly up at the earth-ghoul.

Mountain was surprised to see your sudden movement to take off your bra, though he took the opportunity to look upon the gorgeous sight that was your body. His eyes traced your form, looking at every inch of you. Your breasts were a sight for sore eyes; not too big, not too small. They were perfect, and they made the drummer's mouth water.

"You're absolutely stunning," he said softly as he leaned over and took one of your breasts in his hand.

A small, breathy squeak left your mouth as his large, rough hand gently took hold of your breast. You stared up at him, completely enamoured over how slow and gentle he was making this whole experience for you.

"Thank you," you whispered, a blush dusting your cheeks as Mountain began to squeeze a little bit. You didn't really know what else to say besides 'thank you.'

Mountain lightly squeezed the flesh of your breast in his hand, taking notice of the way your chest rose up as your body reacted to the way he was touching you. He wanted his touch to make you feel good. He carefully rolled your nipple in between his calloused fingers.

“You’re so perfect…” he whispered as he lowered himself down to plant his lips upon your neck as he gently sucked along your flesh.

Based on instinct alone, you craned your neck to the side as the demon began to slowly kiss your neck with slow, open-mouthed kisses. Your breathing continued to slow down as Mountain gently licked at your flesh.

“Mmm, Mountain,” you breathily whispered, your tail wrapping around the earth-ghoul’s torso, softly pulling him closer to you.

Mountain’s body seemed to react to the way your tail wrapped itself around him, a light purr escaped his lips as he continued to worship your neck with his mouth. The drummer's breath from his nose made your neck tickle.

The earth-ghoul left a trail of hot, breathless, kisses across your skin as he continued his path down. Slowly, Mountain reached your breast and licked the nipple with his tongue, lightly flicking the tip.

Even though you were a virgin, you weren’t inexperienced. You had touched yourself before (often at the thought of Mountain), but this was beyond any form of self-pleasure. Mountain’s mouth was bliss. No toy could replicate that.

A strangled moan flew from your lips at the sudden stimulation to your hardening buds. Your hands snaked around Mountain’s neck; entangling in his tight curls that clung to his neck, “W-Woah! M-Mounty! Holy fuck!” you exclaimed pleasurably.

To Mountain, the feeling of your hands entangled in his hair made his head feel fuzzy with a sense of bliss and arousal. A small groan escaped from between his lips as you grasped his hair, the sensation making him want to do even more to you. Make you squirm. Make you gasp. Make you moan.

Mountain continued to tease the sensitive bud of your breast with his mouth, switching between sucking and licking as your grip at the locks of his hair seemed to tighten.

Mountain pulled away from your breast and moved his lips to your ear, whispering softly as he gently kissed your earlobe, “You feel good, Dove?” he whispered gently as he ran his fingers lightly across your stomach “You taste delicious…”

“Y-Yeah, I feel really good,” you murmured while slowly dropping your hands from Mountain’s neck; letting them rest on your breasts. You began to pinch at your nipples, giving them slight stimulation due to Mountain’s lips not being on them at the moment.

“Please keep going, Mounty. Please,” you practically begged, beginning to understand Mountain’s comment about how this would feel uncomfortable at first, then amazing… unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Mountain grinned at the sight. You looked so incredibly good like this, and he was going to take care of you.

His hand gently pushed yours aside as he gently squeezed your breast in his hand again, the skin of his fingers grazing over your puckered nipple as he leaned down and kissed you. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and his touch turned from gentle to slightly rougher as his tongue lightly wrestled with yours.

This kiss didn’t feel full of lust. Sure, arousal was evident between the two Ghouls, but Mountain kissed you with a sense of love. He wanted you in more ways than just body. Mountain loved you as much as you loved him. He wanted you in body and soul.

Hot, open-mouthed kisses were swapped between the two of you. Your hands slowly abandoned your breasts, and instead went to Mountain’s belt. Your eyes were fluttered shut due to being sucked into this moment with the demon, but you had no trouble undoing his belt.

Mountain felt your hands undoing his belt, and his lips stopped moving in their dance as he parted from the deep kiss, his lips slightly swollen by the intensity.

“Is this going too fast?” Mountain whispered, his tone gentle and soft, his breathing hot and shallow. He wanted to make sure he hadn't scared you at all, though the intensity of the kiss made his heart beat rapidly in his chest.

“It’s not for me, Mounty,” you whispered, a bit breathless as he pulled away from the kiss, “Are you okay with this? I know you offered to help me out, but if you don’t want to continue, or this is too fast for you, I won’t be upset.”

You cupped the much larger Ghoul’s face in your hands, placing a small kiss to his flushed cheeks; a smile on your face. Your words were sincere.

Mountain felt the touch of your hands against his flushed cheeks and he felt that warm feeling in his heart. Even though you were nervous and inexperienced at the start, you seemed to be enjoying yourself just as much as he was.

Mountain reached up and grabbed your hands that cupped his cheeks, intertwining his fingers into yours. “Of course, I’m okay with this, darling.” he said softly as he squeezed your hands, “I was just making sure you’re still okay with this!”

You squeezed back, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of the earth-ghoul’s lips, causing Mountain to blush, “You can continue if you’d like.”

You squeezed Mountain’s hands one more time before slipping them back down to the Ghoul’s belt; slowly slipping it out of the belt loops and throwing to to the floor.

Thud.

Mountain’s heart fluttered as you took off his belt. He could see the desire in your eyes, and it only fueled his lust for more. He needed to feel the other Ghoul from the inside.

“May I take off your pants…?” he whispered as he gently stroked your cheek, his touch tender and sweet. There was still a hint of hesitancy in his movements, as if he was still worried that he was moving too fast.

“Mhm,” you hummed, consenting immediately as you pushed down Mountain’s pants all the way to his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows; your chest shining in the moonlight as Mountain pulled you to the edge of the bed.

You couldn’t help but stare at the tent that was pitched in Mountain’s boxers. He was… huge.

Mountain stared at the state of you on the edge of the bed, your soft curves and smooth skin on display made him want to keep touching you and pleasing you. The drummer didn’t want to stop.

The Ghoul’s hands gently traced down your body, the rough skin trailing over your bare skin as he knelt in front of you, kneeling between your legs.

Mountain swiftly discarded your pants, and with painful slowness, pulled your panties down as well. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed; your face flushed from the adrenaline rush.

Without a warning, you squealed as you felt something hot and wet lick a strip up your pussy. Your toes immediately curled from the pleasure. It was Mountain’s tongue.

Mountain kept your legs parted as he placed your knees over his shoulders, keeping you spread out before him. His hands gripped your inner thighs, squeezing them gently as his tongue gently licked against the wet folds of your core, causing shrill moans to leave your mouth.

He could taste the sweetness of your wetness, the taste making him want even more. He felt like a horse that had been led to water on a hot, humid day.

“M-Mountain, holy fuck!” you squeaked out while wrapping your legs around the drummer’s neck, keeping his face pressed up and into your cunt, “J-Just don’t stop! -Oh my God- Don’t stop! A-Ah Lucifer!” you moaned out as his forked tongue darted out with such skill.

Mountain felt your legs wrap around his neck as he worked with his tongue to please you. He loved the way you tasted, how sweet and delicious you were. He was in heaven (ironic for a demon, right?), and his tongue seemed to be doing a good enough job at it by the sounds of your moans. He groaned against your pussy, the sound vibrating inside of you.

The Ghoul collected your clit in between his lips, vacuum sealing his mouth to your mound. A strangled moan left your lips; your back arching responsively.

You groaned like an animal in heat as your hips began to slowly move; grinding against Mountain’s swollen lips. Your hands had returned to your chest, and were now roughly pinching your own nipples in time with Mountain’s expert tongue. It hurt in a good way, this overstimulation.

Moan after moan spilled from your lips. This wasn’t a gradual lead up to pleasure; this was immediate.

To Mountain, you looked so incredibly beautiful like this, so lost to the overwhelming pleasure he was bringing to you. It made his heart beat wildly in his chest as he could feel you riding his face, his hands on your hips to help keep you in place.

Your moans and mewls seemed like music to his ears, it gave him an idea… an idea to increase your pleasure even further.

He pulled away from your core and licked his lips, breathing heavily as he looked up at you. His eyes were bright with lust.

“Little Dove, would it be alright if I… slipped my finger inside you?” Mountain asked, the slight edge in his voice evident. He was beginning to grow anxious.

You slowly unwrapped your legs from around Mountain’s neck as you felt him pull away. You panted slightly, your face blushing like a tomato from the pleasure your partner was giving you. Sweat droplets made your face shimmer in the moonlight.

“That sounds very nice,” you whispered in response to the drummer’s question, “Yes, please do whatever you want.”

Mountain could see the look of complete ecstasy on your face as you responded to his question, and it made his heart flutter. He wanted to make you feel good… he wanted to keep going until you were completely satisfied.

With that, he reached up with his hand and gently pushed inside you, the tip of his finger slipping into your pussy. “Is that okay..?” he asked quietly, his breath coming out in a soft pant.

You hummed in pleasure as you felt a tad bit of pressure from Mountain’s rather large digit. Your hips shimmied slightly, trying to create a bit of friction, “Yeah, feels good,” you groaned in confirmation, your head falling backwards as you felt the earth-ghoul begin to move his finger; curling it inside of you.

Mountain began to thrust his finger inside your core, his movements starting out somewhat slow as he looked at you. He wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go with this, and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Can I add another finger, (Y/N)?” he asked softly, his head rested on your thigh as his finger thrusted inside you slowly. You could feel his hot breath on your thigh, causing goosebumps to cover that area.

“Yes please,” you immediately replied, “Can you also go back to using your mouth again as well? That felt really good, and I feel like it would feel even better with your fingers.”

You were a bit embarrassed to be asking Mountain for such things, but you knew he wouldn’t mind. The older Ghoul was sweet and you knew he cared about you, maybe even more than he cared for anyone else in the band. You knew he wouldn’t mind, and would comply to your request.

Mountain couldn’t help but smile and chuckle slightly at how eager you were to ask (like you knew he would... the cocky bastard), but who was he to deny you?

“Of course I can, Dove. Anything for you…” he whispered as he leaned back down and placed his mouth over your aching, soaked core.

You felt his fingers beginning to move as his mouth returned to that previous position; his fat tongue pulling another scream from your lips. You were right— this combination did feel heavenly.

At first, you were able to just lean back, shut your eyes, and let Mountain work. But, very quickly, the pleasure began to grow, and it grew fast.

You were mewling like a goddamned cat after about 2 minutes of this; your hips aggressively grinding against the much larger Ghoul,

“M-More, please!” you wheezed out, your hands intertwining in his hair. Tears were beginning to prick at your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure.

Mountain was entranced in his actions, watching you writhe on the edge of the bed, pleasured by his fingers and his tongue as they worked to give you that sweet, sweet release you were begging for. He was loving every second of this.

His fingers moved faster inside your cunt, his mouth working in his own pattern around your sensitive flesh. His groan vibrated against you as you ground your hips onto his face. Your tail even made its way to Mountain’s neck; lightly choking him pleasurably as he moved.

As more choked screams left your lips, stars began to dot over your vision. Your jaw hung slack as your body stiffened up; one last breathy moan leaving your mouth before you hit your first orgasm of the night.

Your fingers pulled at Mountain’s hair, likely making his scalp burn, but you couldn’t help it. The pleasure felt like an explosion going off in your head— all you wanted and needed was more.

Mountain groaned loudly against your core as your orgasm hit hard, the tight fingers tangled in his hair pulling at his scalp as you shook with pleasure. He was breathing through his nose while you quaked, holding himself in place as your legs tightly squeezed around his head. He would swallow every last drop that trickled from your clenching hole.

As your body began to relax a bit more, the earth-ghoul’s fingers and mouth pulled away from where they were, a thin string of your juices connecting them as he took a deep breath. His green eyes marvelled at your swollen entrance; unable to hide his satisfaction.

“How was that, darling?” Mountain asked softly, his voice a light and sweet whisper. “Do you want to continue?”

The drummer gently licked his fingers, cleaning them of your juices.

You slowly pulled your head off the cream-coloured pillows and nodded lazily; your face redder than the Cardinal’s cassock, before running a shaking finger through your folds. Your legs jolted roughly— you were so sensitive after such an intense climax.

“Yes, please continue,” you whispered, your chest glimmering in the moonbeams that carefully filtered in through the blinds due to your sweat.

Your eyes drifted down to Mountain’s cock, which was beginning to drip with precum. You were practically drooling at the sight.

Mountain’s chest heaved with his heavy breaths as he saw the effect he had on you. You looked absolutely beautiful with your hair tussled and skin flushed. His own chest was glistening with a thin layer of sweat; his arousal growing as he noticed you staring at his dick.

Mountain’s prick twitched.

“You seem to like what you see.” Mountain said softly with a grin.

“Can you blame me?” you asked suggestively while flicking your tail. Your spade-tipped tail wrapped around his length without another word, pumping lightly, “I think I’m ready for… the next part of this. I want you to take me, Mountain. I trust you completely.”

'I want to prove Swiss wrong.'

“No… no, I can’t blame you, (Y/N).” Mountain said; his breathing hitched a bit as your tail wrapped around his length. It was an odd sensation, but one that only added to the burning heat of his excitement.

The drummer leaned up over you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as your tail pumped his member lightly. “Then I’ll take you as gently and slow as possible.” he whispered against your lips.

You slipped your tongue into Mountain’s mouth as he promised to take you gently and slowly. You could taste yourself on his lips which made your hole clench. Your tail, still pumping his immense size, led Mountain’s cock to your soaked entrance, lining it up. You weren’t worried about protection— you didn’t care. You wanted Mountain skin-to-skin. Animalistically. Authentically.

You watched in arousal as Mountain spat in his hand to provide further lubrication. He was much bigger than you were, and even with his impressive oral skills, you still probably weren’t wet enough to accommodate him.

He slowly rubbed his spit covered, pruned digits over your hole, causing your legs to spasm again. So, so sensitive…

Mountain spit on your mound one more time before slotting himself in between your trembling legs. The Ghoul grasped his cock, pumping it a few times before rubbing it lightly against your swollen clit.

“You’re so wet for me, dove,” he whispered, using his thumb to slowly… antagonizing-slowly, massage your little bundle of nerves, “I’ve got the biggest dick out of any of us in the ministry, yet I can tell you’ll take me just fine. If Swiss tried fucking you like this, he’d slip right out. That cocky son of a bitch couldn't make you feel as good as I can.”

Mountain’s calm and patient side regarding your comfort levels was beginning to fade away. He knew you were consenting to this— he had already asked close to a million times. The earth-ghoul could start acting how he wanted to since you wanted it, and frankly, this cocky side of Mountain was hot to you.

Mountain’s tongue met yours in an intimate dance. He could feel your appreciation for him in that kiss, and he was determined to make you feel as loved and cared for as possible. He knew he was special; and so were you.

As his cockhead was lined up against you, it took all his control to not immediately plunge inside you. “Are you ready Little Dove?” he whispered as he looked at you intently, his chest rising and falling as his breath came out in ragged pants.

Your tail slowly unwrapped from around Mountain’s length as he got ready to begin moving. Your hands gripped onto the duvet below, your head rapidly nodding in confirmation, “Definitely ready.”

Your legs were shaking from anticipation. You had never known you’d need something as intensely as you needed Mountain right now. He was the the sunlight to flowers, or the shepherd to the sheep. He was everything to you.

Mountain looked down at you, seeing you trembling with anticipation, with excitement, with need. And it made his heart flutter once again. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before he began to press inside you, a soft groan leaving his lips as he felt how tight, how wet you were. “Oh, D-Dove,” he whispered, the word rolling off his lips in a ragged breath.

You laid there for a few seconds, your face contorted in pleasure as well as mild discomfort due to Moutain’s thickness. It was probably a good thing that he had spat on his hand to create more lubrication. It wasn’t an uncomfortable discomfort though— it felt right. It was apart of it, and you were pleased to get to experience everything for the first time like this.

“O-Oh, Lucifer!” you swore in pleasure as Mountain sunk all the way in, your mound resting against his abdomen. Mountain put all of his weight onto his arms as he leaned over you. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stilled, waiting for your confirmation, “M-Move, please.”

Mountain groaned as he felt himself sink all the way inside you, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the feeling of you surrounding his cock; squeezing it as you breathed. The sound of his name falling from your lips in an almost prayer made his heart flutter.

His self-control shattered at the whimpered plea. ‘Move, please.’ Oh, he’d move. He’d fucking move.

Mountain began to thrust with a slow and steady pace, his breathing coming out in short and ragged pants as he moved over you. His face dropped to the left of yours, his tongue darting out to taste your face.

You slowly wrapped your quivering hands around Mountain’s wrists as he began to slowly thrust deep into you, savouring each movement. It felt biblical… it felt raw and powerful. Squelches due to your wetness echoed through the room, matching the volume of Mountain and your’s growing moans.

You bit your lip as the Ghoul began to speed up; your eyes resting shut from the wave-after-wave of pleasure. You couldn’t even formulate words. All you knew was that you didn’t want your lover to stop. The snapping of his hips was orgasmic; the way his balls began to slap against your ass. The way his dick fit you perfectly. The way the earth-ghoul knew where to strike— hitting your G-spot every single time without fail.

Mountain’s head dipped down against your neck, his breathing warm and ragged against your skin as he began to quicken his pace. His eyes closed as the pleasure consumed him, overwhelmed him, as he moved inside you. Each whimper or mewl you let out only added to his pleasure, and he wanted to hear more.

“Fuck- you sound so beautiful, (Y/N).” he breathed against your skin, his words ragged in between his moans and pants.

You let out unholy noises as Mountain verbally praised you through your fucking. You could feel the drummer's fingers leaving little bruises on your hips as he snapped in and out of you at an increasingly speedy rate. Mountain's body slotted in between your wetted thighs perfectly.

"Deeper!" you commanded while beginning to move your hips in sync with the Ghoul's thrusts, "I need more of y-you, Mountain! Fuck me! Fuck me!" This moment was unlocking a side of you that you didn't know existed.

Mountain groaned loudly as you began to move in sync with his thrusts, his grip on your hips tightening at your words and actions. “ Holy hell… “ he whispered against your neck as he began to pick up the pace more.

Your moans and mewls sounded like they were coming straight from the pits of hell, and the thought of you becoming feral and untamed under his touch sent a shiver down Mountain’s shiver. This was giving the earth-ghoul more adrenaline than any performance with the clergy's band.

“ You want more-? Need more of me? “ he grunted out as he began to thrust into you with a harder force.

Mountain forced his hands underneath your hips in order to angle you downwards, effectively deepening his thrusts as you had requested. A shrill shriek, sounding authentic and similar to those noises you Ghouls made in Hell, left your lips. It sounded alike to a goat bleat and a woman's scream from some cheesy horror film from the 70s.

Your hand trailed down to your swollen clit, stroking it aggressively to optimize your pleasure. You would definitely have to give Mountain back as much as he's giving you right now. Today wasn't the day, though. Today was about you.

"Need m-more of you. Holy Hell, don't stop!" you begged, your voice coming out all pathetic and in a begging manner. You were so incredibly cock-drunk for your partner. Your stomach clenched, and a fiery inferno of pleasure wracked your soul. You were so fucking close.

Lucifer you were beautiful like this— writhing and moaning with pleasure on the bed, a complete mess beneath him.

“Oh- oh Dove..."

Your begging was making his brain short-circuit.

You screamed in pain mixed with pleasure as Mountain sunk his fangs into your collarbone, effectively drawing blood. Your flesh muted his panted words, but you could still make it out. It was in the demonic tongue only you and the other Ghouls could understand.

Amongst the demonic grunts and growls... a simple phrase.

"You are now mine!"

You felt the earth-ghoul explode inside of you. His stamina was still at a peak as he slammed as far into your tight cunt as he could, spilling every last drop into your womb. Curses and obscenities erupted from your lips as you came for the second time today.

Your pussy violently milked Mountain's twitching dick dry. Stars dazzled over your vision as you experienced the most pleasurable and painful orgasm of your life. This was what Lucifer ordered Papa to preach about during his unholy sermons. This was what you had been missing out on. Mountain was what you had been missing out on...

There wasn't a single drop of cum left in the Ghoul's prick by the time your orgasm had passed. Mountain slowly removed his teeth from your flesh, his forked tongue emerging from his cracked and swollen lips to lap up your blood.

"I'm sorry," the earth-ghoul shyly apologized while pulling himself out of your soaking cunt, "I didn't mean to bite you."

Your hands went up and lightly stroked his flushed cheeks. You'd always thought Mountain was beautiful... but now? He was ethereal.

"I don't give a fuck about that," you said while giggling, pressing your lips to his, "You just gave me the best night of my life, and you're apologizing for making me bleed? You're trying too hard, Mounty."

The drummer purred as you used his nickname, his spade-tipped tail swooshing in the air as he slowly got out of the bed.

"Shut up. Just sit there and look pretty while I help you clean up."

Mountain sauntered to his bathroom and returned a minute later with a damp towel and some tissues. He was walking with an intoxicating aura. It was obvious he just fucked and had a good time, which made your chest swell with appreciation. He enjoyed himself as much as you had.

He was walking with the mentality that he had made you feel this good.

Not even Swiss could do that... and Mountain took great pride in that.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Scythe x bird-hybrid Reader

immediately going to work on this, after i find my old glasses, i also need to eat the dinner i made it’s sort of just sitting there right now, oh there we go my head already feels better, ok let’s eat then work on this

eh actually im going to bed im tired, ill do this in the korning

- Let’s set one thing straight, she did not date you just because you’re a good get away since you can fly, that just so happened to be a bonus, that she takes heavy advantage of

- Scythe treats you very well, but due to your hybrid nature she gives you more specialized attention, she would never admit it but she spent multiple long nights researching bird behaviors and bird care so she could help you and show her love towards you in a way that you already are familiar with, so the first time she offered you help you preen you were hesitant but holy shit her claws work miracles on your wings

- On top of that she also does her best to mimic the bird sounds you make, since it makes your hybrid brain happy, for instance she does her best to mimic your trills and content coos, it isn’t perfect since her vocal cords aren’t made for it but it still does work great and you’re hybrid instincts are very happy

- She begrudgingly joins you in the nest, she prefers to work at night so she complains and says she has work to do but you just get all huffy and puffy till she either leaves or gives in and joins you, but if she does leave you have her clothes built into the nest so even if she’s not actually there it still smells like her, and her non uniform clothes are surprisingly soft and make great nest material!

- She makes sure Medkit does research on bird care, more specifically bird medical care so if you were to fall ill or get injured he could most effectively treat you, he learned things about birds he never wanted to and she’s happy knowing someone can effectively heal you up if something were to happen

- Speaking of since you make a really good get away from crimes in higher stakes kills or other crimes she’ll bring you with her but keep you hidden maybe on rooftops or in alleyways, that way when she does the signal, which is literally just whistling really loud, you can literally swoop in, grab her, and fly off, one two or three occasions Ban Hammer was near and summoned his wings to follow you, it was fucking terrifying but she switched her gear over to rifle mode and fired away at him

- You can’t tell wether it was supposed to be a gift or an insult but she got you a genuine gilded bird cage, you aren’t sure how to feel

june keeps licking the table and because of one of my sister’s girlfriends she might have eaten rocks, sorry if it’s a bit short, i’m waiting for my mom to return with grapes

[five-hxrgreeves]

im dYIIIINGGGG with the adam warlock x quill sister! when he calls her 'little quill'??? with that accent of his??? so soft and husky??? im screaming at my phone dude aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i need part iii right freaking now!!!

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

POWERS: adapted from D.C.'s Stargirl, although in this instance, the powers are a part of you and the staff just helps you use them.

WC: 1.9k (woo a shorter one this time!) 

SUMMARY: your first meeting with Adam wasn't one that indicated that you'd become friends anytime soon. Your second meeting. . . wasn't great either. But, somewhere along the line, you would develop a soft spot for the curious man-child.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, badly written original fight scene, possibly ooc canon!guardians.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: OMG!!! This is my first-ever inbox message- thank you, anon! You made my day with this <3 I love Adam's/Will's accent; I definitely hope that we get to see (and hear) more of him in other Marvel movies. As requested, here's part three (even if it's technically part zero, lol.) I do take requests if anyone wants to send me stuff! (I just won't write smut, sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this part, although I'm not very confident about it since I'm terrible at writing fight scenes. It's hard enough for me to imagine original content (like the other two parts) but scenes where people move around a lot without the movie itself to rely on are very difficult for me because my mind doesn't think in pictures, but in words and I don't know how to describe fighting. I'm sorry if this isn't as good as the other parts. 😭

And on a side note, the 'no shit, Captain Sherlock' is another reference to space people messing up Terran lingo :)

Part 1 , Part 2

You were admittedly not in the best mood when you first (officially) met Adam. Peter and Mantis had left only days ago, leaving you to sort out your feelings alone. You were currently in the training room, fueling your sadness into anger at their abandonment. You often used your powers to aid you while you were fighting, but they weren’t much use during everyday life— unless you wanted to fly. Now, however, they were very useful.

Brilliant blasts of golden light shot out from the staff that your hands gripped tightly. While your powers could be used without aid, the staff helped you control them; Ego had made it for you when you’d become old enough to serve as his protector. Although you were disgusted with the weapon’s origins, you couldn’t help but agree that it made your fighting much more effective.

Each of your blasts hit the targets squarely in the middle as you turned deftly to conquer the row. A scowl was prominent on your face as you pictured each of your targets as Peter’s or Mantis�� face. (While you would never really want to hurt them, of course, the sting of their desertion fueled your thoughts.) You were listening to a playlist by the Rage Against the Machine— which you had chosen solely because of the band’s name as it mirrored your feelings. The music that was blasting in your ears was so loud that, if someone had been standing next to you, they could have heard the lyrics as if they were wearing your headphones themselves.

As you moved up and down the line of targets, you were unaware of the audience of three that had entered the room. Groot, Rocket and Adam stopped by the entrance to watch you unleash your fury against whatever enemy you were envisioning. The new leader of the Guardians gestured to you. “There. See? I told you she’s nice.”

Adam hesitated, clearly uncertain. “She looks mad.”

“I am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Shut up,” Rocket retorted, glaring slightly at the tree who was supposed to be helping his case. “She won’t hurt goldie. You’ve already seen her bad side, haven’t you? This is nuthin’.”

The golden boy had to admit that Rocket was right; he remembered only too well his first encounter with you as you’d jumped in to help your friends fight off his unexpected attack.

--

He’d just defeated the stupid tree-like thing and as it scuttled away like a demented spider, the faint sound of a whistle pierced through the air. An arrow shot out of nowhere, harmlessly bouncing off his skin and only annoying him more than anything else. He looked around sharply, but there didn’t seem to be anyone brave enough to fight him in the vicinity. “Hey! Who threw that?”

He scoffed when there was no answer, stalking towards where he’d last seen his target. But before he could get very far, a force came out of nowhere— this time much stronger than an errant arrow. It knocked him off his feet like a bullet and together they were sent flying through the town, which elicited more cries of fear from the citizens.

He landed harshly against a building that got in the way and debris fell on top of him from the force of the collision. Adam grunted irritably; this was the second time during this fight that his enemy thought that throwing him into a building would be enough to deter his attack— didn’t they ever learn? He stood and shook the dust off his clothes before he strode back out to the street to face this new opponent. Except— it wasn’t the same blue person from before.

The golden boy stared at the other person with disbelief, the only thing that he could come up with was: “you’re a girl!”

She scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Captain Sherlock.” She twirled the staff in her hands expertly between her fingers before she set the butt down on the ground. It glowed softly as it lit up with her power, her face set. “Let’s do this thing.”

Adam had no qualms about fighting a girl, so they charged at each other without hesitation. He thought she’d be as easy to take down as her teammates but when they collided, she merely used her staff as a shield against his attack. They paced across the open space as they exchanged blows, the girl using her staff offensively and defensively interchangeably. As she flipped neatly out of the way of one of his advances, he began to see how evenly matched they were.

“You are stalling,” he realized. “If you just hand over your friend, we would not have to fight.”

The girl paused, flicking some of her hair out of her eyes. “Oh. Well, in that case—”

She charged at him again, her staff catching on his uniform. She followed him into the air and her swift kick to his stomach sent him tumbling away from her. It was then that he realized that she could fly— just like him— and that was what had powered her initial attack. In the time it took for him to recover from the spin, a blast of golden light was sent his way. Because of his more durable skin, though, the light only felt like volts of electricity rather than something that could do actual damage. The most effective part of her power was the blast itself, which he had to fight through to get closer to her.

Now that he knew where her power came from, he made to attack her staff in order to knock it out of her hands. She seemed to sense his plan— Adam figured most people she fought went this route— and she countered this by trying to fly above him to push him towards the ground. He responded by grabbing the staff in her hands directly while she was mid-swing. The girl was tiring slightly, her breath becoming shorter as the fight went on and she was now on the defensive.

She tried to yank her staff loose from his hold but as evenly matched as they were, he was still stronger. The girl then attempted to shake him off by lighting the staff up with her power. If he hadn’t been such a strong opponent, the golden light would have burned through his hands. As it was, the little volts were barely something that he registered. While he could have easily swung the staff to send her flying off the end and into the ground, he held back the true show of his strength as she didn’t seem to be as resilient as the two blue people or the tree.

Instead, he tried once more for the diplomatic route: “you have fought valiantly for your little friend. If you surrender him to me now I will leave your village in peace.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed with fury as she continued to fight to free her weapon. “Go to hell!”

Adam sighed, having partially expected that response. “Very well. Have it your way, then.”

He smoothly jerked the staff from her grasp and carelessly tossed it to send the weapon spiraling towards the ground. He turned back towards the girl to finish her off as he had her teammates, but he paused. She seemed to hang, suspended, in the air as time appeared to freeze around her. Her eyes widened and, for the first time since he’d encountered her, a look of fear appeared on her face.

Then, she dropped like a stone.

They were very high off the ground by this point and the fall would likely kill a normal being. He wasn’t sure if she would survive, so his reflexes kicked in before he could really think about what he was doing.

By now, the shock had worn off and she fell through the air, she reached up to him as he was the only person who could help her. Adam put on a spurt of speed to try and catch her but she was falling faster than he had anticipated. The girl slammed into the ground and lay still just as he landed next to her. He told himself that saving her wasn’t his mission, and her incapacitation only made obtaining his goal easier. His mother’s orders echoed in his mind, so against his instinct he turned away from her in pursuit of the squirrel.

--

You felt a tap on your shoulder, startling you. You whirled around with your staff in a defensive position only to be met with the sight of your teammates. With a sigh, you pulled out one earbud but didn’t pause your music.

“What?” you asked shortly.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Little Quill. I’m ya superior now,” Rocket replied, unaffected by your attitude. “I wanted you to meet golden boy here.”

You gave Adam a once-over, ignoring how the sight of his. . . attractive features made your stomach curl pleasantly. “Yeah. We’ve met.”

The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, feeling once again ashamed of his previous actions. Before he could say anything, Rocket spoke again, adjusting the straps of his jumpsuit as he did so: “well, I ain’t great with humie ages, but I figured ya’d be about the same. I thought it might boost team morale to see ya two hangin’ out together or whatever humies your age do.”

While your first response was to dismiss the whole endeavor— you didn’t want to get close to someone else just to have them leave you, too— but a small, traitorous part of your mind whispered: he saved your brother. Another part chimed in: he’s not bad to look at.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “He can stay, but he better not get in my way. I’m not stopping my training because of him.”

“That’s the spirit, Little Quill,” your captain said, choosing to not acknowledge your reluctance. “I’ll leave ‘im in your hands. Let’s go, Groot.”

As you shoved the earbud back in your ear, you could faintly hear Adam’s protest: “wait! You’re not leaving me here, are you?”

While Rocket’s reply was drowned out by your music, the boy’s words hit you unexpectedly; it sounded just like your response to Peter’s and Mantis’ disinclination to stay with the Guardians. Some of your anger faded as you glanced at the boy who stood awkwardly in your periphery. Despite all of his strength and power, Adam looked a bit like a lost puppy and his expression made your features soften against your will. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn’t kill you to be nice.

You took out an earbud again. “Well, don’t just stand there. I know you can fight, so let’s see you use those skills.”

At the reminder of your first encounter, he sent you a guilty look. As he stepped up next to you, he said quietly, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For almost killing you.”

You patted him on the arm companionably. “Hey, no hard feelings. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last, so just add your name to the list.”

All of the Guardians had forgiven him with surprising readiness and it seemed like you were no different— only, you were. His gaze stayed on the spot where your hand had touched him. There was a lingering warmth as if your hand was still there, the sensation sending tingles (not unlike the ones that he felt during your blasts of power) through him.

Taglist:

@repostingmyfavs , @trashpenguin

[coffee-master]

Idea: Lego Monkie kid AU

(Red Son-centric & maybe spicynoodles(?))

'Lost fire'

I would really like to read a fic, where Red Son died as a child, because of the samadhi fire.

Ok, before you go listen-

Red Son died as a child because of the enourmous power of his samadhi fire. Everyone just didn't complete the ritual on time, and during one of his fire outbursts he hurt himself fatally.

The power was just too strong for such a young demon and it finished him.

His parents his parents had to cope up with their child's death and were devastated by it.

Later, they decided they would never have children again to prevent such a situation like Red Son from happening again.

BUT-

We know that Lady Bone Demon is able to revive people and demons to life. For instance Macaque.

And she needs samadhi fire to make her great plan come true.

She'd bring Red Son back to life, but unfortunately the power in hands of the little demon is still unstable for his age.

So, Lady Bone Demon would instruct her servant to partially seal the demon powers until he grows up, and his body could handle the power under control.

The demon would be sealed and hidden (somwhere) from the rest of the world to prevent anyone from interfering with her plans.

All of this was supposed to last until he reached the right age, then she planned to use him as a weapon.

But as it is known the child can't rise himself, right?

That's where Macaque comes.

As the LBD revived also Macaque. She decided to use him as some sort of babysitter for the Red Boy, instead of giving the key.

Because who elese she could choose to take care of that little demon? Major??

[Let's be honest we all know that nobody should leave kids with that guy- Just look at this freak-]

Anyway-

After comming back to life Macaque's job is to take care of the little demon child.

He is isolated from the rest of society along with a small demon and under the control of the major.

The monkey doesn't have much of a choice or even any chances of leaving, since major here is strong and both him and LBD are watching over him.

LBD promises to freed him after Macaque will rised the bull demon until he'll be ready to fullfill his 'mission'.

The shadow monkey and demon-child are practycally 'prisioners' and since noone would look for people who are supposed to be death, Macaque looses his hope of escaping.

While every attempt to escape results in a severe punishment.

So the warrior finds himself in his new role, as a guardian.

At first, the demon is not pleased with his situation in any way, and the thought of taking care of the red demon downright annoys him.

But over time, he gets used to it and tolerates the little child until eventually his heart softens and he begins to raise him as his own.

The monkie does the best what he can do.

Beside obvious diuties, like watching over him and using the ice powers (which LBD gave him for such occasions) to extinguish his sudden uncontrollable bursts of samadhi fire..

Macaque also teaches him.. how to speak, read, control and peace, plays with him or organizes a shadow puppet show for him and ect.

He also gets close to the kid and becomes his parent fugire.

The Red Boy grows up. He's energetic full of life and curious kid, who wants to see more of the word. To finally find out who he is. He wants to see people and everything. (No suprise since he was isolated from society)

But the Bull demon it also curious about his past and family. He knows that the monkie isn't his relative and he knows that he used to have parents.

The Red possesses some memories as if through a haze. They are small details that motivate him.

With each passing day Red Son gets more control ower his samadhi fire, which start to worry the black monkie.

Macaque figured LBD's plan long ago and he knows that as soon as Red will finally fully control his powers, it will not only mean death for the demon, but also for the rest of the world.

It worries him.

He doesn't want to loose Red kid.

He doesn't want world to end.

He's devastated.

But then suddenly he finds himself in a situation where the major has to leave (because DBK discovered the box in which LBD was imprisoned, and he has to ensure that she is freed).

(Btw in this universe, DBK was released from above in a different way. MK accidentally freed him by moving the staff of Sun Wukong.)

Macaque immediately takes the opportunity when the major is gone go free Red Son...like..

----

"Hey Red." The black monkey suddenly started, while not taking his eyes form the sea. "Remember when you told me, yo wanted to get off of this island?"

The fire demon immediately looked at the Macaque with excitement, but mostly with confusion.

Since he had know Mr Macaque telling him how his attempts to escape were futile or that he should let it go.

But the demon never truly stopped hopping that they both would someday go and he could finally see more.

"Well, today's the day." The older demon said and the fire demon almost couldn't belive his ears.

Before Red could even ask the monkie rapidly went to him and started using his magic on him and to exact it was glamour.

"Red, you need listen to me carefully, because there's no other chance-" Mr Macaque started, as he concealed the scar on his cheek. "I don't know when the other will come back. But this is really important, so remmber-"

"But you're comming with me-" The younger demon didn't ask, because it was a fact.

Macaque had to go with him. He couldn't stay here, right?

"You can't trust anybody and don't tell them anything." Instead of answering the man continued his speach. "Try to use your fire as little as possible and at all cost do not use samadhi fire. Nobody can put it down and it's very dangerous." The monkie then changed the colour of his hair from red to black. "I'll try to I maintain the camouflage for as long as I can, but if it disappears, you must cover your hair and not let yourself be recognized."

"But, Mr Macaque-"

"Red." The demon interrupted seriously. "It's very imortant."

At his words Red went silent.

"You need to find Sun Wukong, the Monkie King." The black monkie said seriously. "Tell him that Lady Bone Demon is back. That she's after you and the can't get to you and.." The demon paused for a second. "And then surely everything will be alright.." Then the black monkie smiled softly at him.

Red knew that something was wrong and he was trying to cheer him up.

"If you see the Watcher run as fast as possible.." He put a cap on his head." If he catches you, you have to free yourself at all costs, you can even use samadhi fire."

Suddenly a portal opened behind him.

"Remember find Sun Wukong." The the demon pushed Red to the portal despite his protest.

The fire demon was only able to see a light smile of his paret figure face as the portal slowly closed.

----

Basicly Macaque doesn't have much of a choice, but letting Red go. The monkie can't escape the island, because of the deal with the LBD. He's sealed in there.

Macaque also doesn't trust Wukong, but he doesn't see any better option. The shadow demon knows that the monkie king is one of the strongest and could possibly defeat her or just buy some time.

So in that way Red finds himself in complete difftent place.

Dazed, lost, scared, and bewildered in the Megapolis.

He completely doesn't know how behave it that weird place, where he is alone and see things that he hadn't seen before.

He's also scared about Macaque.

So he tries to find This Sun Wukong-

He starts asks random people about him, but ineffectively. People on the street ignore him and consider him a bit of an oddball.

In the meantime he accidentally runs into MK and they end up somehow together.

They talk a little and MK shows him around a little. Red is obviouly fascinated even by the simplest thing, which makes Mk think he's kinda cute.

Then have meal at Pigsy noodles. (There Red Son eat the best meal ever-)

Their talk suddenly goes towards the monkie king and here's the part where everything becomes the mess.

- Major stars chasing after them

- Everyone are looking for Sun Wukong

- Red doesn't know what he can tell and not-

- Wukongs finds out that Macaque is alive-

- Troubles, problems, and action.

- They have a dinner at Demon Bull Family house!!! But neither Red Son knows that that's his parents and They don't know that that's their son becuase of the disguise!!!!

- fighting Macaque! LBD took control over him

- LBD still tries to catch Red.. and she kinda is able to..

- Red is finally reviled to be the 'death' Red Son-

- ...In the end we finally get family reunion..! ;)

[Yes, here I was too lazy to write ⬆️]

OK.

I've written a bit, but hopefully someone will like this idea. I guess..

Honestly I mainly want to see pain of the greaving parents and family reunion, which would be full of love...

I HOPE SOMEONE LIKES THIS!

What do you think? Please tell me.

[rosewoodroad]

Scattered thoughts on SoTO

Tl;dr: Lukewarm climax, lukewarm ending. Isgarren is still rude.

Finished the final chapter in an hour and a half. A lot of drama was condensed into those 3 instances, but it felt like there was zero point to the first two where we were just at the camp. It got a bit juicier in the third instance in Eparch's palace. Like, three drops of juice juicier.

The most interesting bits of the story I can recall are:

Eparch ate his entire army! At the time, I was like "oh shit" but in hindsight, I was really hoping for Eparch to be planning a massive attack or something. There was so much build up as to why he wasn't retaliating against Peitha. But no, his great plan was just to eat his own soldiers. I guess it makes sense with his character, but I think if the execution and consequences of the reveal was better, it would have been a real slap to the face.

Eparch's first contact with Tyria was the Maguuma Jungle and Mordremoth, the latter of which he was scared of. This is a real neat detail imho, and helps paint a better picture of the power hierarchy between our antagonists. Eparch truly isn't that big of a threat in the end.

Eparch's final battle was a letdown for all his intrigue. Heitor was harder than him. I literally stood there and tanked all his hits, there was zero mechanic to the encounter. It sure made the speedkilling achievement easy, though.

Meh battle aside, Snargle is always a pleasant surprise.

Isgarren is such an asshat. It makes him an interesting character, but I'm upset they didn't do more with him. Like, what was all that talk about the Commander being similar to Isgarren before? Everyone is like, "you remind me of him" but they never show how?? I thought they were gonna do some real in depth introspection into his personality by the time the story ends but I guess that's it. We're supposed to see the two of them as twins for some reason, but maybe the Fractal will shed some light?

Sounds like Zojja is leaving us for good this time. The exchange between Zojja and the Commander is the only element of the chapter that made me feel things :( Also, I love how the Commander's lines here mirrored their monologue in the prologue: "See? Everyone's doing just fine, Aurene" to "Everyone will be fine, Zojja."

I think my biggest disappointment with the ending is the lack of implications in the epilogue. We could talk with a bunch of people but they're all about the future with the Kryptis and whether peace is possible and whatever. Nothing about, or from, mainland Tyria. No hints for the next expac. No mention of our guild members. No Ivan, who sent us on the mission to begin with and heard nothing from us since. No Taimi, who really ought to be spamming calls on the comms device now that she knows Zojja is back. What is the point of the communicator device in our bags when it's literally used for the prologue and nowhere else???

Peitha's king now. I love how they kept the 'king' title instead of making her queen. But... that's it for her, I guess. I knew she wouldn't betray us, but I admit it's also sort of boring how the story just ended there. I think it could have benefited from more post-story achievements where we help out with turbulent politics or diplomacy instead of going on another treasure (or kryptis) hunt binge. Right now, it feels like the equivalent of brushing dirt off our pants and going, "welp that's done."

Nobody's gonna mention what Eparch said about Kryptis' predatorial nature, huh? They drop his (very, very tiny violin) sympathetic backstory and motivations, and then proceed not to bring its implications up at the peace treaty scene. Absolutely nobody is bothered by Kryptis possibly needing to feed off mortals.

All in all, honestly a forgettable ending. Looking back, the expac started off really strong thanks to the intrigue behind the Wizards and Isgarren. But once that intrigue is solved and we go delving into Nayos, it just feels like a rehash of all our previous adventures where we fight to overcome some Great Force of Evil- just that the Commander isn't in the spotlight anymore. I would've preferred it if the past three chapters were spent with the wizards instead, solving dumb magical problems (or even fighting to keep the Astral Ward a secret!) instead of partaking in a generic military storyline for the 9th time. Like, instead of Eparch, we could have been hunting down a whistleblower, or a traitor maybe, something that keeps the intrigue there.

At least it's acknowledged that the Commander is tired of this stuff too. They need a nap.

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

Varney the Vampire, Chapter 7: Much Ado About Matches

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It's morning now, and Flora is awake and feeling much better. Henry and George agree to not tell her about the events of the previous night. Henry is fixated on the idea of investigating the family crypt, so George and Marchdale agree to accompany him on an expedition. Marchdale says they ought to go secretly in the dead of night, and the others agree that this is the sensible and reasonable thing to do. The only trouble is that all three of them going would leave Flora unprotected. Henry talks to Flora, without actually telling her where they're going, and she says she will be alright by herself. Henry gets the bright idea to leave a couple of guns with her, so that if the vampire comes by again she can blast him. Flora, who apparently has experience with firearms and is a good shot, agrees to this. Marchdale suggests they invite Chillingworth to come along, which they do.

That evening, Henry, George, and Marchdale set off for the church where the Bannerworth family vault is located, armed with tools for a break-in. However, Marchdale has forgotten to bring matches, even though it was his idea to visit the tomb at night. Fortunately, at the exact moment he realizes this they run into Chillingworth, who happens to always carry matches on his person. Convenient!

They reach the church, and the author pauses to complain for an entire paragraph about old buildings in Kent being pulled down to make way for modern ones. They set about breaking into first the church and then the vault. Chillingworth gripes extensively about there being no secrets to find here except the smell, which begs the question of why he tagged along on this mission in the first place.

Inside the vault, Marchdale pulls out the candles he brought along and realizes that he did bring matches after all, rendering a whole page of this story entirely pointless.

In this chapter, it begins to become clear that Flora is by far the most competent character in the cast. It's a damn shame, then, that she is never allowed to do anything. From a different author I might take this as commentary; however, in Rymer's case it's merely a symptom of poor writing. Flora is competent because she never gets to do anything, meaning the author does not have to hand her the idiot ball repeatedly in order to keep his plot going.

Henry and George have a long conversation about decomposition rates, during which they show an alarming lack of knowledge about how bones work. Boys, I'm pretty sure skeletons keep for more than a hundred years.

"What then, do you suppose, could remain of any corpse placed in a vault so long ago?" "Decomposition must of course have done its work, but still there must be a something to show that a corpse has so undergone the process common to all nature. Double the lapse of time surely could not obliterate all traces of that which had been."

We learn Marchdale went out to search the garden one more time, but found no trace of any vampire. Once again, he shies away from confronting the reality of the situation. All these characters actively shun being genre-aware.

"The fact is, that although at your solicitation I went to bed, I could not sleep, and I went out once more to search about the spot where we had seen the—the I don't know what to call it, for I have a great dislike to naming it a vampyre." "There is not much in a name," said George. "In this instance there is," said Marchdale. "It is a name suggestive of horror."

Marchdale is very much in favor of visiting the tomb, reasoning that if they find no evidence of a vampire then they'll put their minds at ease, and if they do, then they'll only be in roughly the same place they were already. He then proposes that they conduct their mission in secret, in the dead of night, reasoning that since daylight cannot get into the tomb anyway, there's no harm in going at night. I would accept this logic in Minecraft, but here...well, see what I said about genre awareness. This is how you get eaten by vampires, dude. At the very least, you're going to psych yourselves out way more going at night. Don't you remember the daylight has literal physical properties of soothing the mind?

"There is ample evidence," said Mr. Marchdale, "but we must not give Flora a night of sleeplessness and uneasiness on that account, and the more particularly as we cannot well explain to her where we are going, or upon what errand."

In a better story, they would have told Flora what they were doing, and she would have insisted on coming with them, guns and all. Alas.

"Oh, I shall be quite content. Besides, am I to be kept thus in fear all my life? Surely, surely not. I ought, too, to learn to defend myself." Henry caught at the idea, as he said,— "If fire-arms were left you, do you think you would have courage to use them?" "I do, Henry." "Then you shall have them; and let me beg of you to shoot any one without the least hesitation who shall come into your chamber." "I will, Henry. If ever human being was justified in the use of deadly weapons, I am now."

This exchange still kind of rules though.

After some discussion of Flora by Henry, George, and Marchdale, during which they conclude that she is exceptional and that "most" women her age would never have recovered from what she experienced (this isn't even true in the universe of Varney the Vampire), we reach the tedious and pointless Three Stooges routine with the matches. What stands out most about this sequence is how unnecessary it is; it seems to only exist to pad the wordcount, and has the side effect of making all the characters look like incompetent clowns.

Many words are spent on describing the church; most of them are not very descriptive.

There were numerous arched windows, partaking something of the more florid gothic style, although scarcely ornamental enough to be called such. The edifice stood in the centre of a grave-yard, which extended over a space of about half an acre, and altogether it was one of the prettiest and most rural old churches within many miles of the spot.

Rymer briefly pauses the story to grouse about something in the present day, a habit he will return to throughout the book.

In Kent, to the present day, are some fine specimens of the old Roman style of church, building; and, although they are as rapidly pulled down as the abuse of modern architects, and the cupidity of speculators, and the vanity of clergymen can possibly encourage, in older to erect flimsy, Italianised structures in their stead, yet sufficient of them remain dotted over England to interest the traveller.

Holy comma abuse, Batman.

Now give it up for...character breaking a small pane of glass, reaching a hand through, and undoing a window clasp!

"The only way I can think of," said Henry, "is to get out one of the small diamond-shaped panes of glass from one of the low windows, and then we can one of us put in our hands, and undo the fastening, which is very simple, when the window opens like a door, and it is but a step into the church."

I told you Rymer loves doing this.

Chillingworth continues to be irritating.

"The secrets of a fiddlestick!" said the doctor. "What secrets has the tomb I wonder?" "Well, but, my dear sir—" "Nay, my dear sir, it is high time that death, which is, then, the inevitable fate of us all, should be regarded with more philosophic eyes than it is. There are no secrets in the tomb but such as may well be endeavoured to be kept secret."

He's referring to the smell of decay in that last sentence. I dunno, Chillingworth, I think tombs and graves frequently hold secrets. There are entire scientific and criminal investigative fields devoted to this. If you're so convinced there are no secrets to be uncovered here, then why the hell did you come along in the first place?

The chapter ends with the infuriating conclusion to the match saga.

"Why, these are instantaneous matches," said Mr. Chillingworth, as he lifted the small packet up. "They are; and what a fruitless journey I should have had back to the hall," said Mr. Marchdale, "if you had not been so well provided as you are with the means of getting a light. These matches, which I thought I had not with me, have been, in the hurry of departure, enclosed, you see, with the candles. Truly, I should have hunted for them at home in vain."

You didn't have to write it this way, Rymer.

Next: Several narrative inconsistencies are unearthed

[my-mt-heart]

Thoughts on the 206 Spoilers

I probably don't need to mention again that what's written on the page can translate differently on screen for a number of reasons — acting choices, editing choices, reshoots we aren't aware of. We know that. Some of us felt that with the opening minutes (if you want to read my page-to-screen analysis on that, you can do so here). But I also know changes don't always happen unless I'm willing to tell the people in charge why I want them in the first place. I believe the 201 revisions happened because we talked about it. I'll admit I don't know how fixable the 206 scenes are, and frankly the underlying issue aside from the writing is the writer, but I still want to talk about it because if Caryl's story is going to continue for however many more years, their fanbase has to feel like the storytelling is worth both the emotional and the financial investment. These sides don't help with that. Spoilers under the cut...

I want to start by clearing up some confusion I saw in the original post about Carol's scenes being crossed out. It doesn't mean her scenes were deleted; it just means they weren't shot on the same day as the other scenes on the pages. We don't have all the tunnel beats, but what we do have appears to be in chronological order for the most part, so that gives us a close enough look at how the tunnel scenes are being framed. The framing is what's troubling because Daryl and Carol are in their own separate corners, breathing in poison gas, losing their will to live, but never turn to each other (or thoughts of each other) to keep fighting for each other like their entire story since the start of the flagship show, the tagline "to find home is to find each other," and the SDCC synopsis would have us believe.

Carol is looking for closure with Sophia which I understand, although it's extremely underwhelming and it still doesn't explain what's tethering her to this world. For Daryl, it's the figment of Isabelle that represents his hope. Their bond, not Daryl's and Carol's, gets to carry the emotional weight of those scenes. I can't even begin to make sense of Isabelle being Daryl's savior and motivation to keep going while his brief interaction with Carol at the end may as well be between him and his mailman. Side note: I guess the poison gas isn't so poisonous anymore? Why are they having a conversation without masks lol

Okay, they leave together, but as what? Strangers? Is this where I'm supposed to get hyped for S3? Because Caryl will be in the same proximity while Zabel keeps them emotionally detached from one another? That's not the Caryl show I want to tune in for. I want their show to make their relationship the emotional core and I want to see their romantic feelings for each other become explicitly canon. They have so much shared trauma and so much shared history that hasn't been thoroughly explored. When do we get to see that?

I understand how ridiculous all of these concerns sound when we factor in Melissa's input and the excitement she showed at SDCC. I'm not discounting that at all (@9lives2mics posted a really great overview of the PR strategy for SDCC, which I highly recommend listening to btw). What I'm trying to get at is, as far as the material goes, Zabel's vision for his original characters and his original premise seem to be dragging down the story that Melissa and even Norman are trying to tell for their characters. There were even several instances in their interviews where McReedus didn't seem to be on the same page as Zabel and Greg Nicotero. It's disheartening because if the latter two can get away with shooting what we see in these sides and making a trailer centered on Daryl's French family, what's going to make the final cuts? Do I want to find out?

Final thought: If you're going to make allusions to gas chambers, then the scenes need to amount to a hell of a lot more than shipbaiting and being artsy. Otherwise, it's just tone deaf.

[unabashedlittleblackbook]

Memories

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

Summary/Request: Cutesy Best Friends to Lovers @fuzzymelanie

Warnings: None? Not that cutesy??

A/N: This took me waaaaaay too long tbfh. Kinda proofread it but it’s 2am and this is my second attempt at posting it bc I don’t understand technology. I also don’t know how to get my spacing to stay. Might be a little rough around the edges? I don’t know how to write children tbh. Feedback is appreciated!! I love to hear what you guys have to say <3

In every instance of your life, whether it be big or small, you could look back and there would be one constant. What was that constant? None other than Eddie Munson. You’d known Eddie almost as long as you’d been alive, an exaggeration, sure, but the statement held some truth. You met at the Hawkins Middle School talent show. Neither one of you even placed in the top three, first place going to the girl with the dance routine that made waves with the adults in the auditorium. Truthfully it wasn’t all that great, but the people love mediocrity. However, your paths didn’t actually cross until later that night after everyone went home. As luck would have it, both of your rides were running late.

You would’ve never in a billion years dreamt of approaching a boy like Eddie, let alone strike up a conversation. You were a loner, something your parents frowned upon but people just weren’t all that interesting. But Eddie.. Eddie was different, be it the way he talked or even the way he carried himself, he just had this certain spunk to him. A complete riot to be around, as you’d later find out. Him coming up to you got the ball rolling, a feat you’d never forget.

You were sitting on a chair left out in the hallway, swinging your legs back and forth since they couldn’t quite reach the ground yet. There were a few people still lingering, some being students and some being faculty members. It was years ago but you’d never forget the way he sauntered up to you and broke the silence all in one breath. “Y/N, right?” You barely got a nod in before he was talking again, “Your performance was pretty cool, not my first choice of song, but it was cool.” You couldn’t help but balk at him until you finally regained your composure, forcing the words to leave your mouth. “Oh, uh, thanks? You were pretty cool too.” You were unsure of what to do, should you say something else? Clearing your throat you spoke again. “What was it? Corrupted Coffin?” You had watched his act, but the name fell on deaf ears when it was announced. “Corroded Coffin,” he corrected. “Right, sorry.” You offered a sheepish smile, not really sure of what to say next. “Anyway, I’m Eddie.” As he spoke the words he stuck his thumb out and poked his chest. “The guys and I were talking and we thought it would be killer if you stopped by sometime and watched us play.” He gave a small shrug, “if you’re interested.” You’d later find out that he forgot the ‘itwouldbesototallycoolifyoujoinedthebandasourvocalist’ part. “I don’t know,” you trailed off, chewing the inside of your cheek. “That’s not really- I mean you guys are great and all, but that's not really my thing.” Technically it was a lie. Music was your thing, people were not. That didn’t stop Eddie, “one practice? You won’t regret it.” The side of his mouth turned up and he threw his hands up in a ‘Hey Whaddya Say?’ gesture. You were curious for sure, but how could you possibly say no when he was staring you down with those pretty brown eyes? That was the first time you couldn’t refuse Eddie, and as time would tell, it wouldn’t be the last.

Over the years there were many laughs and even more memories, some more memorable than others. One of your favorites had to have been the night before your 18th birthday, the year after you discovered you had feelings for your best friend.

It was late, later than it was supposed to be if you had a boy in your room, which as of 15 minutes ago, you did. For the past 15 minutes you’d been arguing with Eddie while perched on your bed, arms crossed watching him pace back and forth. “I am not sneaking out! And I most certainly am not stealing my fathers car.” Your voice was firm but your resolve was cracking minute by minute. “Think about the memories! This is valuable band bonding time.” He put emphasis on the valuable part, spinning to face you with an exasperated look and threw his hands up before letting them fall to his sides. You tried not to let your disappointment show at his words, band bonding. Right. Pull yourself together.

Would changing the subject help? Probably not but it was worth a shot. “Take your shoes off, that's wool you’re standing on.” High end carpet for high end taste, your mothers of course. You got an eye roll in response. “Don’t change the subject. How are we supposed to enjoy the night without our best girl? Come on, think about it.” You ignored the flutter in your chest. It was basically a sales pitch at this point. You looked at the clock on your nightstand, it had just turned to 9 O’clock. The band started at 11. He was running out of time, the puppy dog eyes would be coming out soon. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one with a means of getting there,” you said flatly. You had to admit though, it was tempting. He scratched his head and walked closer, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. “Okay, okay. When have I ever steered you wrong?” That made you laugh, “There was that time whe-” “Let’s forget that, do you trust me?” There they were, those big brown eyes. Your face softened and you felt your shoulders slump. Your eyes trailed down to his lips, pausing before meeting his eyes again. Of course you trusted him, he was your best friend. Though sometimes you felt like he could be more. “You know I do.” The words came out soft, softer than you meant but he heard you all the same. You both stared at each other before a grin broke out on his face. “Then get your ass out of bed and let’s get going!” He gestured to the window, a giddy expression on his face. “Shush! Do you want my parents to hear you?” Eddie put a finger to his lips, mouthing the word ‘sorry’ while wincing. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him before telling him the plan. “Go meet me at the car while I change and grab the keys.” Eddie gave a thumbs up before climbing out the window as quietly as he could. It wasn’t hard to get the keys, they were hanging on the hook where they alway were. Now was the hard part, how to get the car out of the driveway without alerting your parents. “Now how the hell are we gonna do this?” He held up a finger, “I already thought of that, follow me.” “Of course you did,” you muttered under your breath. “ We’re gonna put the car in neutral and slowly roll it until we’re far enough away. Key word being slowly.” You balked at him in disbelief before letting out a chuckle. He couldn’t be serious. “Well? Hurry up, we don't have all night.” He motioned to the car expectantly. Of course he was serious because why wouldn’t he be. You huffed before rolling your eyes and following his lead as you both slowly moved the car away from the house.

You and your gaggle of boys that you call friends made it to the bar on time and in one piece, all thanks to you. It was a few towns over which meant no familiar faces, something you were all counting on. You made it just in time to hear them play the first song of the night. At first you were worried you’d be kicked out but as the night carried on you worried less. If anyone had suspicions you were underage they clearly didn’t care enough to do anything about it. The night wrapped up a little before 2, it was late but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Eddie was right, it was one hell of a night, definitely one for the books. The five of you made your way to your dads car, all of you laughing at something Gareth said. You waited until everyone was settled before beginning the drive home, you and Eddie up front and the rest of the boys in the back. It was the usual seating arrangement, at least it had been since the day you got your license. The car was loud with all the boys talking over one another but you just laughed and shook your head. Truthfully it made your heart swell, they were your boys. You loved them all, just in different ways. Sure they were your boys, but you wanted Eddie to be your boy. You wanted the cheesy compliments, the arcade dates, the feeling of him in your arms. You wanted it all, you yearned for it. But seeing him happy made you happy, and that was good enough for you. It had to be. You gave a quick glance in Eddie’s direction, his smile taking over his face as he replied to something Gareth said, or maybe it was Jeff. You weren’t sure, the only thing you knew was that you’d never forget tonight.

As all good things do, it soon came to an end. You were making your last stop before heading home: Eddie’s place. The car came to a halt and you paused, unsure of whether or not to break the comfortable silence that washed over the two of you. As if hearing your thoughts Eddie spoke up. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” You blinked, in all the excitement of the night you had completely forgotten about your birthday. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You smiled, of course he would be the one to remember. “I uh, I have something for you.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly unsure of himself. He cleared his throat before reaching into the front pocket of his jacket. He fumbled with the button before pulling out a cord with something attached to it and handed it to you. You held it up and let out a small gasp when you finally got a good look at it. He took his favorite guitar pick and turned it into a necklace. You’d been eyeing it for as long as you could remember. It was on its last legs of course, but it was still as pretty as it was when he first used it. You’d joked on more than one occasion that one day he’d wake up and it would be gone. You never thought he would actually give it up, the pick was special to him. Part of you hoped that maybe this meant he might feel the same. There was a small hole at the top where the material went through, made by his knife no doubt. You weren’t sure of what to say, what do you say to the person that gave you a piece of them? “Eddie, this…” you trailed off. “This is your favorite pick, why would you-” You were cut off, “I can get another pick, I can’t get another you.” He coughed before continuing. “I uh, I want you to have it.” He fiddled with his rings, hoping it didn’t come off too as cheesy as it sounded. “Thank you.” Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you wrapped him in a hug. Like the moment, it was a little awkward, the car not being the best spot for a hug. You pulled away slowly, meeting his eyes. You couldn’t remember who leaned in first, all you knew was that neither one of you made a move to stop. Your lips met and you swore your heart skipped a beat. Eventually you broke the kiss, resting your forehead on his. You had matching grins, the car silent except for the faint sound of the radio playing. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you laughed, still in disbelief. “Middle school.” You pulled away, confused by his words. He continued, “I’ve been waiting to do that since that stupid talent show.” There it was, that warm gushy feeling. You shook your head and laughed. “Now you tell me.” He was definitely right, this was gonna be one hell of a memory. “Guess we have to make up for lost time then won’t we?” Just as soon as the words left his mouth he was pulling you in for another kiss.

[crack-whore-who-fuckedup-already]

Be My Witness

Part 10 - Charlie and Vaggie

Word Count: 7.1k

Fem!Reader, intimate!platonic Reader x Angel, (brief) Reader x Stolas, (eventual) Reader x Alastor

Trigger Warnings- mentions of drugs, descriptions of needles, medical abuse, fake ass medical science lmaoo

Author Note- HERE WE GO GUYS

SONG: Snow & Ice By Sophia Anne Caruso

“Get your things, we're leaving.”

The smile that graced her lips when she first saw him faded as Angel shoved a bag in her arms. When she didn't move, he opened the drawers and grabbed random pieces of clothing. Shirts, skirts, bras, socks, whatever he could grasp, he threw them into the bag, which she still held, too confused to set it down.

“Where are we going?”

“A hotel.”

“Okay…” Y/n tried to play along but something told her this wasn't a joke. She humored him anyway. “For how long?”

“'Til they kick us out.” His tone was serious as he closed the dresser and turned towards the door. “Keep packing. I'm gonna get my stuff, then we can get go.” 

He made to leave but Y/n's brain finally kicked in.

“Wait, wait, Angel.” She held a hand up, catching his attention and stopping him in his place. “What's going on?”

“I'm getting us out of here.”

Doubtful resistance immediately stirred in her mind. How she so desperately wanted to believe him. But she had refused to indulge the idea of moving out again since they moved into the tower, too exhausted to deal with Val’s possible backlash. 

She finally put the partially packed bag down. “Okay, I need you to explain a lot more thoroughly than you are right now. A hotel? How are we supposed to pay for-”

He took her hands, almost tugging her into his chest, but he only held her firmly there in front him. His eyes bore into hers and her ears subtly shifted back with caution, his intensity putting her on edge.

“I found somewhere else for us to live, Y/n. Rent free.” A small, optimistic smile crept onto his face. “Said we can check in today.”

It still wasn't sitting right with her.

“What's the catch?” 

His smile faltered, fading more to a grimace, optimism turning to unseriousness. “It's basically a rehab…” 

Y/n's shoulders fell with exasperation.

“Oh, great. You want to risk Val's fury and get sober? Sounds like a real fun time, Angel,” she deadpanned.

He shook his head. “Not that kind of rehab. Although, they did mention no drugs allowed...” Angel rolled his eyes dismissively, playfully challenging the notion. “We'll see about that.” He sighed. “They say it's a rehab for souls. To get into Heaven.” 

Angel paused for a split second to contemplate how to continue his explanation. But Y/n cut in with a sharp laugh, taking him off guard. He leaned back, dropping her hands as her laughter escalated and filled the softly lit room. 

Angel was losing patience. Despite how ridiculous the whole idea sounded, he was solely focused on the opportunity to move him and Y/n out of the tower again. He would figure out the details of the supposed ‘soul saving’ later. Besides, if he hadn't spoken to the owner and operator herself, he wouldn't have taken it seriously either.

“Charlotte Morningstar is running it. She's reopened Lucifer's old place in NorthPen. I talked to her myself.”

The princess’ name being dropped silenced the doe in an instant. 

Everyone knows of the Morningstar's, of course. But she recalls the couple of times where she was honored enough to be in their presence. Charlotte was so young then, though hard to really tell how old with how nobility ages in this realm.

Before Y/n got too involved with the Goetian prince, at a few of the other royal balls and parties she attended as an escort, she found herself intimidatingly close to the family. Not intentionally. There were plenty of other royals and high status demons to get a check from, no need risking her head trying to pick up the Queen, or heaven forbid, the King. She did not need Lilith coming after her.

But there was one very specific instance, a faint memory of an interaction with the queen in which the doe was being thanked, coolly, but earnestly. For what, she doesn't remember, having just reached the point of intoxicated forgetfulness. But she would never forget the slight smile that graced Lilith's lips, before she turned slowly and walked away back to the party, leaving Y/n there stunned.

Valentino had pulled her away from escorting before she was ever booked to work one of the Morningstar's illustrious parties. Which was a shame, as she had heard stories of an intimate but extravagant theater room inside the hotel -which wasn't a hotel at the time, but the royal family's private residence. The idea of finally being able to see that theater in person was admittedly enticing, almost even convincing. 

But she knew it couldn't be this easy. It was never this easy, not where Valentino was involved and feeling stinted, which he was sure to be. 

Still, she nodded her head slowly in contemplation. Angel had a point. A cheap place to stay was gold in their eyes right now. A chance to get some peace of mind away from their boss while still having some cash to burn on the side, and it's all being funded, facilitated, and therefore protected by a high monarch of Hell? Y/n was starting to understand. She couldn't deny how stupidly hopeful it made her feel. 

Valentino would find something to punish her over eventually, whether or not she moved out. Better to have a place away from him to deal with the aftermath when he inevitably did, she supposed.

It still sparked anxiety in her stomach though.

“Its just,” Her eyes slammed shut and her hands raised to rub at them intensely. “The extermination is so close… And Val is going to have an absolute bitch-fit.”

Angel huffed out a small unamused laugh in acknowledgement. Then he lightly pulled her hands away from her face and finally pulled her into him, their arms wrapping firmly around each other. “All the more reason to move out before we're locked up with him again. And I was thinking we take it slow. Move things over little by little. Not kick up a fuss, y'know?” She didn't respond, only breathed deeply into his chest. Angel let her rest her head there contentedly for a moment before his upper hands took her face and brought her gently to look at him. 

“I know we can do this, sugar. But I need you with me.”

Her eyes flicked between his, full of apprehension, her heart pounding steadily in her chest. Despite it, she nodded quickly and forced a smile onto her face, tense as it was. She was trusting him with everything she had.

Angel reciprocated with a more confident one, though still with the same uneasy edge as hers. He pulled her in once more, squeezing her affectionately before pressing a firm kiss between her ears. They fluttered happily against his cheeks.

With that, Y/n finished packing her bag and they left for the hotel. 

As they turned onto the street, the hotel looming intimidatingly up the hill, Y/n noticed two demons lingering outside the property gates. They seemed to be disassembling a booth of some kind, though booth was a generous word. It was essentially a table and chairs on the side of the street. 

One of the demons, a woman with gray skin and a long red bow in her silver hair, reached up for the banner hanging on the broken gate, struggling to pull it loose. ‘Free Lemonade!’ it read, handwritten rainbow letters scrawled messily, splashes of watercolor paint dotting the otherwise white paper.

“Lotsa free stuff, huh?” Y/n said uncertainly, not used to random acts of sincere kindness. Angel chuckled lightly.

The second demon, with thick blonde hair and dressed in all red, turned around to grab a stack of cups on the table when she caught the doe and the spider approaching down the sidewalk. Her eyes lit up, a big friendly smile striking her pale face. 

Y/n's stomach sank with nerves, her steps faltering. Angel took her hand reassuringly; the only reason she didn't stop walking completely.

“Angel Dust!! You're back already!” She turned to her companion, who had managed to wrestle the banner down. She shook her shoulders vigorously, nearly making her drop the paper. “Vaggie, he's back already, holy shit!”

The newcomers came to a stop at the open gates and the princess’ eyes darted excitedly between the two before finally landing fixedly on Y/n. Recognition sparked on her features and she made a noise of hardly-contained excitement. “Hiii, I'm Charlie,” she greeted cheerily, lilting in a soft sing-song voice. “It's so great to finally officially meet you!” 

Finally? Officially? The princess’ words rang in the doe's ears, not quite making sense to her. They swirled in her head, trying to settle down with a memory that didn't seem to exist.

Maybe she's a fan… of the earlier stuff, I hope… she settled, self-conscious of her reputation. Or maybe Angel told her about me when they first met…

Y/n remembered herself suddenly, shoving away her muddled thoughts with a sharp swivel of her ears. She stepped back into a generous curtsy. “I'm honored, your highness.”  

“Oh, boy.” The princess rushed forward, her hand resting on the deer's shoulder to bring her out of her bow. “Thank you. Really. But that's not necessary here. Charlie is just fine,” she finished with a grateful smile.

Y/n straightened, clearing her throat uncomfortably while giving a pointed glare to Angel. He watched her, an amused arch in his brow, his head cocked with entertainment. Y/n hissed a vulgar curse at him and his smugness.

“Okay!” A glass of lemonade was shoved into Y/n's hand. Charlie beamed as she gathered the last of the cups into a bag and scooped up the still full pitcher of lemonade, speaking all the while. “Angel said he might be bringing a friend. But he didn't mention that it was the Y/n!” She turned to her companion, who Y/n finally noticed had a big red X of a patch covering her eye. “See, Vaggie? We just opened and we already got two big movie stars wanting to sign up! This is gonna be so great.” She turned, making for the hotel before stopping suddenly. “Oh!” She spun back around, lemonade sloshing out of the pitcher. She used it to gesture pointedly between Y/n and Vaggie. “Y/n, this is Vaggie. My partner.”

The shorter woman stepped forward dutifully, banner tucked neatly under her arm now. “And co-manager of the hotel,” she added proudly, nodding curtly before turning to fold the table.

Y/n watched her struggle with it for an uncomfortable second. When the banner almost slipped from her arm again, Y/n finally sprung to action. “Here, let me-”

The doe moved without much thought, shoving her drink into Angel's hands before rushing forward and lifting the table to a better vantage point for Vaggie. She missed the way Charlie watched with glee, enthused by her initiative. In seconds, the table was folded and ready to be hauled up the hill, with Vaggie holding one end, Y/n taking the other. 

They looked back at their taller counterparts. Y/n jerked her head at Angel, signaling him to grab the last chair, which he did with only a small hint of annoyance. 

With everything successfully gathered, they hiked it up the hill to the front doors. 

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest. Whether it was from the anticipation of finally going inside their new residence, or from booking it up that dreadful hill with full arms, she couldn't tell. But as she stood under the old circus tent that served as an entrance for the building, she couldn't help the smile that crept onto her lips. The stained glass doors depicting plump red apples already filling her with familiarity.

Charlie held the door open for the group and they filed in awkwardly, their hands full of table, chairs, and bags. Vaggie set the poster down before turning to the doe and signaling for her to put the table down against the wall. There was a loud crash as she did, and they all turned to find Angel brushing his hands together in dismissive disgust, a cloud of dust billowing up from where the chair was discarded on the floor. Charlie cringed, smiling to hide her displeasure. Angel looked at her and shrugged, making Y/n roll her eyes at him. Vaggie muttered under her breath. 

Two small demons with wings and horns, and an overall goatish appearance came hurtling down the long foyer towards them. Charlie exclaimed. “Right! You guys, this is Razzle,” The lighter one with reptilian eyes shook out his wings noisily. “And Dazzle.” The one with darker fur tugged proudly at his little coat. They swirled around the princess then pressed against her in greeting before taking the pitcher and cups from her. Making their way back down the hallway, they smiled at everyone they passed. 

The doe waved at them shyly, trying to be nice. It seemed to catch Dazzle's attention. The little goat paused, looking at Y/n with wide eyes. His hand shot out, frantically slapping against his buddy's arm. Razzle followed suit in staring wide eyed at Y/n, who shifted uncomfortably at the sudden attention.

Dazzle looked back at Charlie, waving his hand at her before pointing excitedly at Y/n.

The princess looked at the doe and laughed with slight embarrassment. “They're uh… they're fans.” The words sank in and Charlie rushed to elaborate. “Of your old movies, not the… not the pornography.” Then, after an awkward pause. ”Although I'm sure your pornos are very-”

“Oh-kay, Charlie. Grand tour?”

“Right.”

The new guests were told to leave their bags in the lobby, as they would be taken to their respective rooms for them to unpack after the tour. Then they set off deeper into the building.

Despite her status and money, it seemed Charlie was struggling to revamp the inside of the building. With half working lights and deteriorating support beams, the infrastructure was a mess. But Y/n kept her snide comments on lock, careful not to insult her new home or landlord.

Most, if not all, of the recreational rooms were not in working order. The pool, the game room, the carousel; all closed for the time being. Even so, there were several lounges, balconies, and art pieces scattered throughout the hotel floors that made the tour enjoyable despite its rundown state. Y/n couldn't help but be most intrigued by all the portraits and painting. So many of them were of the royal family, and it was strange seeing such powerful beings be so domestic. She was grateful they still dotted the hallway walls as they distracted from the dark and dank gloom of the hotel.

As the group left one of the parlors, Angel nearly ran into a one-eyed cat who Charlie was quick to introduce as Keekee. The feline flicked her tail at Angel indignantly before bounding off down the hall in front of them. 

Charlie also mentioned there were still several rooms under maintenance that she didn't think were worth taking the time to see just yet, but that they were welcome to peek around some other time as long as they were being mindful and cautious of their surroundings. 

Finally it came time for the newcomers to be shown their rooms to settle down a bit for the evening. With an excited trill from Charlie, they all made their way to the residential floors.

Angel inspected his room as Y/n settled into hers right across the hall. The rooms were sizable, and had standard furnishings for a hotel. A bed, a dresser, and another door which Y/n assumed leads to the bathroom.

She sat on the edge of the bed, taking in the faded red of the walls, the faint stains that still dotted the floors and even the ceilings. She inhaled the scent of musty old carpets and dusty bed sheets and sighed as she began unpacking her bag. 

With a clear head in a new place, her mind wandered to the things she wished she remembered to pack. Certain sweaters, a blanket or two of her own, maybe a book or something to entertain herself with.

Senseless anxiety gripped her suddenly.

Images of the emerald green and gold brocade book Stolas had given her flooded her mind, along with the idea of Val storming her room and ripping it to shreds. She had tucked it away as she always did, she could have sworn, but she still couldn't shake the feeling like something was amiss. 

She dropped whatever it was she had in her hands, a piece of clothing that landed softly on the mattress and was quickly forgotten as she rushed out of her room.

Angel's door was propped open and she peeked in, body half obscured by the door frame. She called his name and he turned to her, already in his evening clothes and folding a pair of pants. His motions were slow and his eyes were hooded, signs of a tired Angel. Still, he smiled when he saw her.

He gestured lazily around him. “This is pretty great, huh?”

Y/n nodded and stepped fully into the doorway. “I havta run back to the tower really quick,” she said tentatively, her fingers tapping anxiously at the wood of the doorframe. “I forgot something important.”

The spider's eyes focused with newfound alertness. “What? You sure you can't wait 'til later? Tomorrow mayb-”

“No.” She cleared her throat, softening her tone. “No, I shouldn't leave it-... I have to get it now.”

Angel stared before sighing deeply. “Alright,” he tossed the pair of pants onto his bed. A hand came up and lightly pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lemme change, then we can go.” 

“No, no. I wasn't-” she corrected, slowly coming to stand before him. She hadn't meant that he needed to come with her. “Don't worry about it. I was gonna go alone.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and he reciprocated, holding her to him tightly. They looked at each other, Y/n's chin resting lightly on his chest.

Angel's brows furrowed with concern. “Are you sure? It would only take me a minute to get dressed, y'know?” 

Y/n shook her head, her eyes deceptively assuring. “I'm sure. You should settle down… maybe find us a place to smoke for when I get back?” 

Angel let out a relieved huff of air as his upper hands cradled her head. He brought his forehead down to hers, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. “You know me so well.” Y/n giggled, small and sweet as Angel pulled away, sufficiently reassured. “Want me to walk you down?”

“No, thanks. I'll be alright.” She started towards the exit. “I should be back within the hour,” she finished with a playfully challenging smirk. “Time me.”

And with that, she bounded down the hall, down the grand staircase and out of the hotel, hoping Charlie wouldn't be upset at her brief but sudden disappearance. 

She made it to the tower with daylight still in the sky. The street outside was bustling with demons, the evening being when Entertainment District really comes alive. She's lucky she didn't have work tonight or she might be among them, milling about with a much more revealing outfit on. 

She slipped through the first floor, weaving around and through demons until she found the elevators. When the doors closed and the bumbling of the lobby fell away as the elevator lifted, Y/n took a steadying breath. She ran through the checklist of things she intended to grab -sweater, blanket, book-, being sure she was as quick and efficient as possible. She wanted to get back to Angel and smoke their stash away one last official time before they start the next chapter of their potentially sober lives.

As Y/n came down the hallway she noticed her bedroom door ajar, setting off alarms in her head. And sure enough when she pushed through into the room, there stood Val, his back to her in the dark room. He half turned when he heard the shift behind him, greeting her with a bored lift of his brow, his profile illuminated by the neon lights outside.

“Where have you been?”

She noted he held something in his lower hands, its pale pages stuck between his stiff fingers. Y/n eyes flicked to the drawer of her desk where she kept the prince's book -right in front of Val. Finding it wide open, she exhaled sharply as nervous apprehension gripped her chest.

He looked at her fully, awaiting an answer to his question.

Her mind flitted between all the excuses she could try, but ultimately she settled for a half truth. “At a friend's.” Val hummed, flipping the page with unnecessary force. The dreaded sound of paper tearing made her jerk forward before she remembered herself, stopping before she took another step. “Do you mind?” Valentino let go of the torn page while grunting unamusedly. Whether or not it was at the page ripping or at Y/n’s reaction to it, she couldn't tell. “I'm not scheduled for anything today, what's going on?”

“Someone hasn't been checking their messages,” he taunted lightly before snapping the book shut and tossing it unceremoniously onto the desk, not even bothering to close the drawer before he moved on. Y/n walked forward then, setting the book back in the drawer before finally closing it with a sigh. She skirted past Val to tidy her bed as he spoke, using it to subtly gather the things she had come for. “A last minute meeting came up on the day your appointment was supposed to be so I rescheduled you for today.” His hands grasped her hips, tugging them firmly to his. “Right now.”

Y/n gripped the blanket in her hand, holding tight as Val swept her towards the door without another word on the matter. And good thing she did too, as the appointment she thought she had time to prepare for was the last before this year's execution. The most taxing day of the year, as there was always an uptake in demand. 

Souls really want to splurge on high-end drugs when they survive a mass extermination, and Valentino's pill was one of the highest on the market. With so many customers and only one source, Val was sure to drain her for all her worth. Hence the need for her blanket. Aside from the dizziness and debilitating weakness, being cold was one of the worst side effects of having her blood stolen away. And in that massive room, all alone for hours? She needed the warmth, and the comfort.

Alone is an over exaggeration, she supposed. There was the physician who, aside from hooking her up to the bags and IVs, was also monitoring her blood pressure. Particularly when she passed out. Not so that they knew when to stop taking blood, oh no. But so that they know when to start again. They found that when they drained her completely, it took longer for her body to regenerate than if they left her with a couple pints in her system. So they'd throw a blood pressure monitor on her arm and watch the numbers until she was back at a place they could take from again. Then at the end, when they were approaching the cap on however much they were projected to need, they'd drain her completely and call it a day.

There was also Valentino, too. Though, he often liked to wander in and out of the clinic on long days like these, checking in every once in a while to be sure things were going smoothly with the doe. Not for her sake, of course. 

Today would be no different. 

Y/n was fortunate to have a blanket for today's session. It was rare she was ever prepared with one and it was happenstance she was able to grab something before Val whisked her away for her appointment. The soft fabric was soothing between her fingers as they entered the clinic, the doctor already prepped and waiting. She thumbed the material as she was sat down in the chair, Valentino's hand catching her chin for a kiss before he stepped away. She crumpled a fistful of the blanket as the needle found its way into her arm, slowly beginning to siphon away her life force. 

Nearly three bags slipped by before she remembered to text Angel. The thought struck her the same time as a chill did. Trembling fingers reaching for her phone, she shot him a simple message before she tucked it away again and adjusted the blanket over herself, pulling it tight around her arms. Then she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

She herself made a discovery, that if she goes to sleep before they take too much, she can bypass the onset confusion, brain fog, and wooziness. She still woke up feeling like she downed a whole bar then woke up in a back alley ditch -but at least she didn't feel it coming on. 

When Angel got Y/n's text he was already halfway to the tower in search of her. Being in a new place without their bosses knowledge put him on edge as is, and the message she sent didn't do much to soothe him, only stating that, despite their earlier conversation, she wouldn't be making it back to the hotel. Angel wasn't sure whether she meant that night or at all, period. But he wasn't going to sit around and find out.

He got to the tower, evading demons as he made his way to the elevators. He checked her room, finding the pile of things she had gathered on her bed, no book in sight. Then he checked the studios, making sure she wasn't roped into a last minute shoot. And when he didn't recognize any of the actors as Y/n, he finally checked the clinic. 

He opened the door, pushing through fully into the room with zero resistance or restraint and took in the sight before him. His friend, asleep and trembling in the partially reclined chair, her arm extended out before her, attached to a full bag of blood. 

Angel began towards her, but in his frantic state of assessing his friend, he missed Valentino sitting off to the side, keeping guard like a hound.

The moth stood quickly, discarding the wad of cash he'd been counting on the sofa next to him, and firmly cut Angel off from reaching Y/n. 

“What are you doing here, Angel.” It came out stern, not like an actual question at all but more of a subtle, silent warning that he wasn't supposed to be there. 

“I'm here for Y/n.” Angel tried to push past Val but got a rough hand to the shoulder, holding him back. “We had plans this evening,” he bit.

“Going to see a friend. I heard.” Angel pulled out of his grasp sharply, trying not to let his face show how stunned he was by his boss’s casual knowledge. Val gave a light flourish of his hand, signaling Angel towards the exit. “She'll have to postpone.” They stared at each other, Val with a smooth cocky grin on his face, and Angel with his brows furrowed indignantly. 

The spiders lip twitched with an argument ready to strike but movement from the chair drew his attention away from his boss. Then her voice came, calling Angel's name soft and unsure.

He went to Y/n immediately -shooting Valentino a glare as he passed him- and took her free hand, as well as her face, gently bringing her to look at him. 

Her eyes shot open at his touch, body jolting as if being woken from a bad dream, her expression twisting with fearful unfamiliarity before she registered his face. 

“It's alright, sugar. It's me,” he soothed as her hand weakly grabbed his wrist. But instead of pulling away like he thought she was doing, she held his hand to her cheek, nuzzling softly into it.

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly, confusion pulling her brows together.

“You took way longer than an hour, I started to worry. I was already on my way when you texted me.” His thumb tenderly brushed her cold cheek. “Are you okay? What is all this?”

“You know how I get when extermination time comes around,” she brushed off his question.

“Yeah but…” Angel gestured incredulously towards the IV stand and the nearly full bag that hung there.

Y/n stared for a moment, trying to decide what to say. “Just… some blood work, that's all,” she came up with pathetically.

A quick glance at the doctor preparing another bag off in the corner told Angel otherwise. “Two whole bags for blood work?” She only shrugged, looking away uncomfortably. “Sweetheart? What's goin’ on?” He asked tentatively.

“Nothing. I-”

“It's time for you to go.” Val's voice made Angel jump. “You can see her in the morning.”

The doctor stepped up from the corner of the room, taking Y/n's arm and indelicately removing the IV from her arm, the doe hissing as the tape pulled off of her skin. The doctor grinned when her ears flattened, cringing at the sting of the needle pulling free of her flesh. Then he checked that the other needle was secure, pressing it with unnecessary force into her arm.

“What the fuck? I think the fuck not, she needs help getting back-”

“Wait, Angel,” Y/n cut him off. She pulled his hand away from her face, attempting to sit up, then looked for her boss across the room. “Can he stay? Please, Valentino?”

Val's brow shot up in mild surprise. Not at her boldness but at the question itself. After all the times he warned her about their secret getting out… 

Maybe he was in a permissive mood, mind preoccupied with the millions of tasks he had to complete before execution day. Or maybe he was seeing an opportunity here for power play down the line. But either way, he wasn't entirely opposed to the thought.

“If you insist, mami.” He waved them off before returning to the couch to collect the cash he left there and noisily leaving the room with it.

Y/n tugged on Angel's arm weakly. “Will you stay? Just for a little bit?” Her voice warbled as if containing a sob, but no tears came to her eyes. “I don't want to be here alone.”

Angel rubbed her bicep reassuringly. “I ain't booked tomorrow, sugar. I'm all yours until you're outta here.”

The doe mustered her dwindling strength and scooted over on the recliner. When she settled, she tugged at Angel's arm again, pulling him in to rest on the chair with her. It was an awkward fit, with Angel on his side cradling Y/n carefully. Half so as to not mess with the tube and needle protruding from her arm, but also half so he didn't fall off the seat.

They talked for a bit, and watched videos on Angel's phone for a while, the spider glaring daggers every time the doctor came round with a fresh new bag. Then came the point where chills permeated her body incessantly. Having the blanket as well as Angel's warmth had really done a number on staving it off, but the time was coming now where her limbs felt like lead and her head felt floaty, like a feather caught on the breeze. 

She couldn't see much anymore, her vision a blurry mess of black splotches. She fought unconsciousness, calling Angel's name through the increasing mental fog.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Would you mind, getting me another blanket?” She stuttered through the shivers.

“Of course, sugar,” he obliged, pressing a firm kiss to the side of her head before untangling himself from her and heading for the door.

As much as she wanted him there, she didn't want him to see her fade away like that.

With Angel casting her one last look as he left the room, Y/n let her consciousness slip away from her for the first time that evening. 

When Angel returned, he had a huge fluffy blanket in his bottom arms and a thick jacket in the other, which he held up as he walked in. “I brought you my best sweater,” he said proudly. “You'll be swimming in it, and there are four extra arm holes but, hey, she's a thickums.” 

Y/n’s lack of response would have clued him in that something was amiss, if he had noted it beyond the sight of Val hovering over the doe, slowly lifting the blanket away from her still form. Angel sprang forward, tossing the downy blanket over her already partially covered form. 

Val pulled away with an annoyed sigh as Angel tucked himself right back into Y/n's side. “Sorry I took so long, sugar. Fuckin’ Vox held me up.” 

Now her silence caught his attention. He looked at her, or at least tried to, as her head had fallen limply away from him when he was settling down. He nudged her carefully, saying her name softly as he did. When she didn't respond, he shook her, panic sinking in.

Valentino grabbed his shoulder roughly, forcing him to stop. “Knock it off.”

Angel scrambled to his feet, coming face to face with Val. His eyes flared hot fiery pink, voice dripping with venom. “What the hell are you doing to her?”

The moth only leaned in threateningly. “If you cause problems, I'll remove you.”

Angel seethed, feeling himself shake with rage as he held himself back. He only tore his eyes away from Val when the doctor approached Y/n, hooking her up to a small machine on a rolling cart before switching out for another bag.

The machine made an awful whirring sound when he switched it on, the noise filling the room and grating on Angel's ears. “What is that thing?” 

“Blood pressure monitor,” Val stated dully, going round to talk to his hired physician.

Angel tucked the blankets under Y/n's legs meticulously, coming to sit by her side when he finished, the jacket forgotten on the floor. He sighed before laying down beside her again.

The machine clicked off sharply.

“...pay big money to see her-” 

The beaverish physician snapped his mouth shut as his words rang out in the room, replacing the thrum of the monitor. 

Angel went still, his mind filling in the rest of the sentence. He didn't like what it came up with.

He looked slowly at the two other demons, his eyes peeking over Y/n's ears. The doctor was looking back at him, eyes wide and apprehensive, telling him he definitely was not supposed to have heard. Val was looking at the doctor, his face full of disdain. Still, he took the stouter demon by the shoulder and turned him away from the chair, continuing their conversation. Their words turned to whispers from the corner of the room.

Angel looked away, pulling Y/n closely to him instead and placing his head in the crook of her neck, almost defensively. He turned his attention to the sound of her heart in her chest. It took him a second to find her heartbeat over his own, it was so faint. He could practically hear it sputtering to continue, pounding as hard as it could to keep what little blood was left circulating. 

Eventually the doctor came over and began the machine again, starting a new routine of checking the monitor every time a bag finished out. Angel felt his grip on his friend tighten each time the doctor approached with a new, empty bag in his hands. 

Angel listened tirelessly, keeping track of her heartbeat. How it sped up while it simultaneously got quieter and quieter. And the quieter her heart got, the more shallow her breath got. Until Angel couldn't hear either at all. Until her heart and lungs were no longer operating and she was clinically dead.

He nestled desperately into the chilled skin of her neck, tears spilling quietly down his cheeks. He could already see the bluish hue of her blood deprived fingers, the sight settling frightfully in his chest. He refused to look at her face, afraid to see her so withered by her condition. 

Angel held her there through the night, the doctor flitting around them, Val coming and going here and there. Her heart did the same, starting and stopping every few minutes.

There was an hour or two where they didn't take any blood, though they didn't remove the equipment from her either. The doctor waited for Val to return before starting the machine again, taking note of the numbers that came up and wandering back to his seat in the corner of the room.

Another couple of minutes passed and Y/n's lungs kicked back up. It started with a twitch, then a jerk as they forcibly expanded, sore with lack of use.

Angel kneaded her free arm, rubbing his warm hands over her skin, hoping to bring circulation, heat, something back to her muscles. After all the times she had come home cramping, weak and sore, he knew just what her sure-to-be aching body needed. 

Y/n took several deep breaths, her fingers twitching with newfound oxygen. Then her head lulled on top of his, just before a sob tore its way out of her throat.

Angel's head shot up frantically, finally looking at her sunken face. Her illusions had faded long ago but he only just now brought himself to note the details there, unconcealed by magic. The scars of particularly nasty cuts and scrapes jutting out among her natural deer markings, her hollowed cheeks and pallid skin making them easier to see. She was sweating. Not much, but enough for a sheen of moisture to cover her face, small strands of wild hair sticking to her forehead. Her eyes were clamped shut, her brows twisted painfully so. Her chest heaved with cries that echoed out in the cavernous room. 

In his panic, Angel's eyes scanned the room, finding Val spectating from afar, puffing away at a cigarette. His arms and legs were crossed in a relaxed state, watching the doe with unabashed amusement. The spider wondered how often this happened; her waking up alone and terrified in this chair, Valentino staring from across the room. 

Something told him the moth loomed much closer when it was just them two alone.

Angel turned away and did the only thing he could think of in that moment; pull her fully into him. His lower arms hooked under her shoulders and lifted her into his lap, his upper two hands cradling her head and resting it on his shoulder. There was a tugging on all the medical equipment she was attached to, but Angel was careful not to pull anything out of place, returning the glares he was getting from the other two demons in the room. Val’s face was less than pleased now, but he didn't move to stop Angel. 

With her head pressed into Angel's neck, Y/n's cries were subsiding, though her frantic breathing was not. She couldn't seem to gain control of her lungs, sharp puffs of air leaving her parted lips with immense effort, until it stopped all together again. Her chest seized, the exhaustion making her give up her battle with her breath. 

“C'mon, sugar.” Angel bounced her lightly. “You gotta keep breathin’. Take a deep breath with me, here,” he ushered her, inhaling deeply while rubbing her back to try and bring her mind to her chest. 

It helped some, Y/n sputtering to fill her lungs effectively. It took her a minute to get a full breath in, and when she did, it left her again with a whimper. But she was waking up more now, her body's organs turning back on like a worn out machine.

Angel could only imagine the amount of pain she was in. The thought of being slowly killed and then revived only to be killed again, over and over and over… and all for what? He still wasn't even entirely sure. 

He rocked her soothingly, whispering calming words in her ear. She tried to speak but he only told her to save her strength. To not worry, as he was there for her and wasn't going anywhere. 

And he didn't. He held her there when they started up with taking bags again, when she eventually passed out again, and finally, when they unhooked her from all the damned equipment. 

The doctor passed the final bag off to Valentino and Angel watched as he placed it in a cooler before reaching into the fridge and piling the rest of the bags on top. With all four arms, he grabbed fistfuls of bags, three, four a hand. Angel couldn't keep count even if he tried. And he tried. 

Valentino shoved the bags in place, smashing them down so they all fit. Then he snapped the lid shut with a click before handing the full cooler back to the doctor, who then shuffled out of the room with a final glance over his glasses at Angel. 

Val turned, leaning heavily on the counter behind him. “Enjoy the show?”

With no one else in the room to hear his challenge, Angel finally snapped. “Such a pussy you won't even say what you're doing to her?”

“Watch yourself, Angel Dust.” Val pushed himself off the counter, coming to stand just a few paces from the spider. “Believe it or not, it's for her own good that no one knows.” 

“Fuckin’ bullshit.”

“You don't believe me, just ask her yourself.” With that, Valentino swept out of the room, finished with Y/n for the night.

Angel found her phone and checked the time, his own having died long ago. It was the early hours of the morning, just before day break. They had been at it pretty much all night.

Frustration arose in him. He had come back to the tower that night looking for answers from Y/n and to hopefully bring her back to the hotel safe and sound. But it seems he would only be leaving with more questions and an unconscious doe. 

He would figure out the truth, one way or another, he resolved. But for now, he'd wait for morning light to shine before taking Y/n and making the journey back to the hotel, hoping their new hostesses wouldn't kick up a fuss about their sudden absence. And when Y/n wakes, he would let her get her bearings before beginning his interrogation.

~~~~~~~~

Previous < Chapter 10 > Next

[ladyhindsight]

As I said in the end of my last piece of grumbling and groaning, the one great thing about this chapter—and one of the few good things in the whole book—is Clary finally getting in tune with her Shadowhunter senses and her training coming to fruition. And as I said also in the end of said piece of grumbling and groaning, everything else in this chapter is horrible and, frankly, gross.

We left the last chapter with a cliffhanger of demons attacking the Team Evil, so a not-so-enticing-as-per-usual battle ensues.

At this point Clary has studied and trained enough that she doesn’t need to justify her knowledge of Elapid demons from seeing an illustration sometime and somewhere. It also takes away from the urgency of the fight. Similarly to Clary fighting the Ravener in City of Bones.

The writing constantly tells and reminds the readers of how it is Jace who trained her. Alec does that too on his end (City of Glass, for instance), so leave this part out. I’m sure Clary has practiced enough by now so she can just throw it without constantly bringing Jace into this.

They kill the demons, Clary is a badass warrior now, and they secure the chunk of adamas. Well done, folks!

Cut to Simon and Isabelle arriving to Magnus’ living room.

So many characters in this book “pad” somewhere.

→ “He padded off to the kitchen” (Magnus) → “He padded off toward the kitchen” (Magnus, again leaving for the kitchen after skidding into the living room) → “padding back into the bedroom” (Clary) → “as he padded past her, barefoot, and down…” (Sebastian) → “He kicked his shoes off by to door and padded as quietly as he could…” (Alec)

They are ready to answer Azazel and summon him back. Jordan and Maia are also present.

What were the rules demon activity again? They can infiltrate the Earth through the cracks in the wards. Also most likely a nod to Magnus’ father being a Greater Demon, but did it say anywhere that the Greater Demons can only be summoned? That otherwise they cannot enter the Earth? Why though?

(Leviathan did not fit for his size but the rest are pretty much human-shaped. The new incarnation of Belial just appears on his own accord. And Azazel could not fully appear since he is physically trapped to a rock in some dimension.)

Magnus warns Jordan from stepping into the pentagram: Summon a demon and trap it in a pentagram, and it can’t get out to harm you. But step into the pentagram, and you’ve put yourself in the demon’s range of power —” And basically few paragraphs later:

→ It’s good that Simon can recognize that it’s Isabelle’s voice out of all the men, her, and Maia. Unlike Clary.

Simon has stepped into the pentagram while trying to catch Chairman Meow, and we are reminded of what was basically said on a previous page. No need. No thanks. We remember and understand the gravity of the situation without this.

→ …even Magnus looked unsettled. [paragraph division] There was a tap on Simon’s shoulder.

Azazel takes the opportunity to grab Simon.

If all is avenged sevenfold, Azazel didn’t really try or intend to do anything to Simon since all that happened was him being thrown backwards. Nice subtlety, since the writing generally is completely incapable of it.

→ Clary also makes belated realizations in the beginning of the chapter with the Elapid demons. How about use other words or phrasing.

Azazel then gets scared of the Mark of Cain on Simon and leaves on his own accord. Cut to Team Evil. Jace is helping Clary heal and clean up after the fight with the Elapid demons.

Which begs the question: Can Shadowhunters use mundane pharmaceuticals? Do they have any effect if the Shadowhunter is runed (obviously Clary wasn’t before)?

Hoped you liked it as much as fighting together with your parabatai, someone that was actually supposed to be of use in battles.

They clean up, Clary gets new clothes and the team Evil leaves to celebrate the seizing of the adamas.

Cut to Team Good who are considering summoning an angel, you know, for change. Magnus tells Simon about the prophetic dream of blood and destruction and blah while others are cleaning up the mess left by the summoning of Azazel.

I don’t think this point is recognized enough. But Simon just keeps being happy to sacrifice it all to Clary no questions asked.

The Team Evil arrives at the place of their celebration, Kosti Lustr or The Bone Chandelier.

And thank goodness you explained it all.

→ Clary shivered. Easy is the descent into Hell.

That’s all you need.

And we jump back with the Team Good because why not constantly change to point of view. Simon and Isabelle discuss the summoning of Raziel.

Which makes Simon the best of them all and consistent with his character that has had the ability to see the greater picture when needed. Mostly it’s about Clary and sacrificing for Clary, but as I said, when needed. He is also the only one who can do it and not die, so there’s that.

→ Also why Jace is the paragon of bravery here? As if there was a question of Simon otherwise being a coward.

I like the quote from ASoIAF: “Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?' 'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him.”

It is what it is, sis. This is the result of Jace and Clary’s lies and secrecy and now other people have to pay for it. None of this would’ve happened if Clary and Jace were honest in the first place, but they never go far enough to note that. Clary and Jace are protected from anger, contempt, and enmity people might feel because they are now in this situation because of them, basically.

Not that Sebastian wouldn’t raise hell anyway, but Jace wouldn’t have been susceptible to Lilith in the first place, Lilith wouldn't have been able to lure Jace and so Simon in to raise Sebastian back to life, and then Jace wouldn't have been gone as a puppet to Sebastian—then Clary with them—if there wasn’t this huge secret they were keeping. Especially when the writing never justified the secret anyway. These characters don’t need to hate Jace or Clary, but they also don’t feel anything human or negative towards them because of their decisions.

Back to the bone party.

It’s all so performative.

No. Just no. We’re not doing any more of these “only Jace” things. Even if it’s through Clary’s eyes, because it implies that eeeveryone else in this whole existence looks like a fucking moron. And that is rude and a lie. And makes Clary's character all the more unlikable.

Unintentionally hilarious image of Clary just spinning around. What Clare is worse at that writing fighting scenes is writing people dancing. This actually makes me almost appreciate the fighting scenes.

The spine…

Angel girl is no more acceptable than angel boy.

What about names mothers choose? Are the faeries also patriarchal bastards for no reason?

So Sebastian has a secret meeting with Meliorn while Clary and Jace are going at it again. Clary then has a bad trip and sees scary things and faints because that is just the perfect way to end this terrible chapter.

[thatstormygeek]

When we discuss state power and these things, we need to hold onto multiple ideas at once. Yes, we are discussing actions like Israel’s aggression in Gaza. Yes, we will discuss the United States, the global American Empire, and its allies and conspirators. It’s impossible to chart the history of these concepts and their consequences without relying on these specifics. But as we do so, we must also grasp that nation states are also representations of a larger process at play. The United States, for instance, has been the main front for global capitalism since it took over the responsibility from Great Britain following World War II. That union of capitalism and the nation state means that notions of “conventional politics,” or the belief that we are simply watching two parties “hash out their differences,” obfuscates what is often happening below the surface. Developments often feel bewildering because we’re part of a process that is intentionally mystified, leaving us wondering why principles and promises are so often jettisoned. Here this: the intertwining of capitalism and nation states means that our politics, our culture, and our institutions have been co-opted to carry out actions that are counter to the national interest, or at least the interest of us, the citizens, in favor of achieving goals that are beneficial to the interests of capital. An example: our military and intelligence agencies tirelessly cooperate with capitalist interests in arranging outcomes on the latter’s behalf, oftentimes hurting the nation state and its citizens while setting the table for the wealthy and powerful to become more wealthy and more powerful. In this way, a momentum has built that ensures, regardless of what happens politically, the process will continue. That process is aided by politics, aided by culture, and certainly aided by technology, including computing and now A.I.

Barack Obama, who promised Change in his transformative campaign, found himself, when in power, subject to forces he felt beyond his control. In that presidency, which was won in part with a promise to wind down George W. Bush’s war, Obama oversaw a wild expansion, including the usage of drone strikes that grew by nearly ten times under his watch. The usage of drones, and the growing list of targets Obama habitually signed off on, represented that momentum we have been discussing. Drones replaced troops, creating an operation we could actively ignore as Americans as long as our sons and daughters were kept out of harm’s way, laying a framework for a hegemonic oppression we would experience, if we experienced it at all, from a grand distance. The list and resulting killings was eventually reduced to bloody maintenance. Bruce Riedel, an analyst for the CIA and a counter-terrorism adviser to Obama, likened the operations to lawn maintenance, telling The Washington Post, “You’ve got to mow the lawn all the time. The minute you stop mowing, the grass is going to grow back.” Our War On Terror coincided with the final collapse of our social safety net. Hurricane Katrina and the Financial Collapse made it obvious that our government had no interest in meeting the needs of the people and had been reprogrammed to solely serve the needs of the wealthy. In the past this co-option had been hidden, marginally at least, behind economic growth and supposed progress, but the truth of neoliberalism was coming to bear. That which had been done to nations around the world in the name of American control had been done on behalf of neoliberal capitalism masquerading as the U.S. We had been promised never-ending progress, luxuries, and dominance. But, as it always does, the oppression boomeranged around and met its originator. It became obvious that American Empire had always been a front for something else.

Turning this ship around and getting past this crisis depends on a massive sea-change of philosophy, governance, and culture. Reining in Tech, taxing its benefactors, and reasserting government oversight of industry and decision-making processes is absolutely vital. The momentum has kept that from happening and brought us here. A.I. is simply a vehicle is accelerating to the next stage in this ugly evolution. As configured, there is no way that the state or any states will choose not to harness these technologies to these ends. It is too tempting. Too built into the system as it presently works. The nation state, even as it recognizes the co-option by neoliberal capitalism, has no choice but to trudge forward. It’s like an insect or an animal consumed by a parasitic disease. Still walking. Still trampling. Still serving. And the time is now also because, as previously mentioned, these things will be leveraged against us and against dissent. When that happens, the words “terrorist” and “insurgent” will be more than enough cover for whatever an algorithm needs to protect itself and the process it serves. Because opposing the momentum of the zombie state pits you directly on the other side of the gun. Of the drone. Of the robot dog.

[missameliep]

The Next Chapter (Wake the Dead - Troy Hassan x MC)

Book: Wake the Dead

Pairing: Troy Hassan x Malia Jones

Characters: Malia Jones (MC), Troy Hassan, Shannon Fox, May.

Rating: M (see notes bellow)

Word count: ~3.900

Summary: After the colonies survive the second surge, Malia and Troy make a hard choice, but one they are not going to regret. On the contrary.

Notes:

English is not my first language;

Characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC;

I don't know if we learn how old May is in the book, but I HC she's around 6/7yo, so she's 13/14yo in this story;

This fic was inspired by an ask from a lovely anonymous reader and is my submission to @choicesdecember2022 - day 7 - Question…? | kiss | middle of the night (thanks for hosting it @peonierose);

Trigger Warning: pregnancy; mentions of miscarriage; mentions of zombies; mention of a minor character death; non-descriptive mentions of medical procedure; kissing and make out; language; readers discretion advised;

The events from this fic take place 7 years after the end of the book.

“Sorry! You want me to do what?” The chair squeaked when Shannon abruptly turned around to face Malia in that small improvised space that functions both as hospital and lab, where she spends most of the hours of her days.

Fighting a laughter, Malia repeated slowly, “To remove the implant.”

The other’s gaze darted to her face, while her brain was possibly searching for any rational explanation for such an odd request. Her voice dropped to a whisper, despite the fact nobody was around, “Why? Are you experiencing pain? If you are, we can run some tests.”

This time Malia didn’t hold the laughter, remembering some of the weirdest conversations of her entire life – which is quite an accomplishment considering her frequent visits to the lab to assist on Shannon's research on drones, and the autopsies of the weirdest specimens they got ahold of that she assisted.

“Right now, no pain. But if those ladies at weaving mill were not trying to scare me, I can expect a lot of pain in my future.”

Shannon’s eyes widened and she stared in confusion. For the past eight years, since Malia broke that glass window to rescue the scientist, their friendship bloomed, they taught one another, shared secrets and had each other’s backs countless times... However, even after all these years – or because of them –, Malia wasn’t able to teach her dear friend to relax and not assume any minor complaint or request from her might hide a terrible illness that will leave her all alone again – no matter how many times she assured her even if she were gone, the colony has plenty of people who care for her. There was no time to revisit the subject now and the other's jaw tensing that much wasn't fun to watch.

Malia decided to cut her some slack and go straight to the point, “I want a baby.”

“Oh!” Shannon’s deep brown eyes widened and it was almost possible to hear the engines turning inside her head.

“You can do it, right?” she pressed, eager for a confirmation.

“Of course. It’s supposed to be a simple procedure: a small incision to remove it from under your skin and two stitches to close it.”

“Great! You’re free to do it now, right?” Malia clapped her hands and proceeded to remove her t-shirt, already knowing nobody else was coming for the doctor this time of the day.

“Don’t you have questions before we start?”

Malia shook her head, already picturing the three kids she and Troy talk about during late night shifts on watch or long trips to explore the cities they get their supplies from. He even suggested some names if they were all boys; she still hasn’t figured out why the names Huey, Dewey, and Louie are so hilarious and make him bend over with laughter.

“Are you aware of the aftereffects? Once you remove the implant, the hormonal doses will cease, and your body will go through changes. You’ll experience menstrual periods, for instance. There are reports of immensely painful experiences and some conditions that might require painkillers and medical attention.”

“Again, the mill ladies made sure to share all the gross details. So, you can check that box,” she said pointing at the clipboard over the desk where Shannon writes down information about the patients and keeps a checklist that makes her less anxious about forgetting important information she must tell the patients before actually doing any procedure. Unless it is emergency care, she believes people should have a saying on their treatment and information makes people less scared of what they will be facing.

Malia knows by heart that speech that justifies her caution. Shannon is a scientist, but necessity turned her into basically a one-woman medical team, fortunately an excellent and empathetic one, and the perfect professor to train others to deal with healthcare in the colonies.

Taking a deep breath, Shannon put the pen down and got up.

“Alright. If you already researched the side effects and are sure... We can start.”

Walking to a corner of the room, she soaped and scrubbed her hands. The scent of the sanitizer reached Malia’s nostrils, already seated at the edge of the gurney.

“It might take weeks for the hormonal levels in your body regulate,” Shannon’s words were punctuated by the light clinking of metallic items, while she fished them from a drawer. “I can run some tests in the meantime.”

“Only if you swear not to treat me like your drones...” Malia joked, and the other shoulders shook with a quiet laugh while she prepared the instruments.

“Next time, I’ll go with you and Troy to that library you mentioned. I need to research some medical books so I can know exactly the required hormonal levels, and how to keep the embryo viable until the insemination.”

“The what?”

“Embryo is the technical term for the fertilized egg that will become your baby. Or babies. Because of the odds we must implant at least two or three.” Shannon smiled to herself with the idea and turned around to face her and continued the explanation.

Now it was Malia’s turn to get confused.

“I’ll need to run some tests on Troy too, assuming he will be the donor.”

“Donor? Oh! Wait!” Malia waved her hands, finally recovering her ability to speak. “No need to help us in that whole conceiving part, we’re doing this Old-World style.”

The other’s eyebrows raised momentarily, and she took a deep breath, letting the information sink in. “So, I suppose my help won’t be necessary then...”

“If all I heard is true, I’m sure I’ll need a lot of help from you. Specially with the actual giving birth part. No way in hell I’m pushing a watermelon-sized baby through my vagina while sober. So, you better come up with a lot of drugs. And I’m talking about drugs potent enough to knock down a horse, darling!”

They laughed together and Shannon asked Malia to lie still, while she filled a syringe with the content of a small vial.

“Maly, I will do all I can to help you. I’ll research the best birthing methods. We’ll have months to prepare. Don’t worry.”

Shannon averted her gaze and took the syringe.

“If you get pregnant.” She paused and focused on cleansing her hands with sanitizer. “At the lab I saw the rates and the reasons in vitro fertilization was the chosen method to all births in the facilities. Besides the lower rates, there are higher chances of malformation and spontaneous abortion during the first weeks and –”

Malia sat up and rested a hand on her shoulder interrupting her speech.

“We’ll take our chance. You and I were conceived the old way and we turned out alright, didn’t we? Well, you more than alright, considering that you combine a genius brain with that face of yours!”

A giddy giggle escaped her lips and a smile rounded Shannon’s reddened cheeks, and she resumed the tasks. Using ice to numb and an almost insignificant fraction of a dose of anesthetic despite Malia’s protest to not spend precious resource on her.

“I’m used to pain.”

“We have enough, don’t worry,” Shannon said, holding the syringe. “You’re not scared?”

“About that huge knife you’ve got over there? Definitely!”

“Scalpel. And that’s the smallest...” she smiled softly. “And you know what I mean...”

“I’m terrified!” A chuckle rumbled in her chest. “But in a good way. Troy and I want this so much. We have talked about having a baby for years... We barely survived the first surge... But what we learned about the hives and how to get rid of them before the surge. All things considered, the second one was way smoother and I have hope things are getting back on track. There are fewer hordes now, the scouts from every colony reported; and some days are so quiet that you can almost hear the world healing. I believe one day zombies will go back to being scary tales people use to trick children into eating their veggies.”

Shannon nodded.

“The night before the surge we talked about this... And decided it was time. I turned thirty-three last month and the colony is stable. I think I could take some time to lay low without letting people down...”

“You never let anybody down.”

“You know what I mean...”

“And you can count on us.”

“I know. I can already imagine you guys helping us out. Aunt Shannon will teach the baby all the cool science stuff –”

“Aunt Shannon? I like the sound of that!”

“– and Uncle Eli will craft a tiny bow and arrow and make little charts and our baby will have the neatest crib around... And we’ll keep an eye on cool aunt Angel, so she won’t teach them how to blow things up before they are old enough... Like five or six.”

They both chuckled, and Shannon smiled thoughtfully.

“And May will be the greatest big sister...”

“She will.”

“Have you told her?”

Malia’s eyes squinted, and Shannon couldn’t tell if it was from physical pain or stirred by her question.

“We better wait till we’re sure... I don’t want to hype her and then... let her down again. She’s not being herself since Feather passed away...”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about the rates...”

“Hey! I’m a newbie in this whole pregnancy thing... and there ain’t a lot of reliable sources... so I need you to be honest with me. Promise?”

Malia offered the pinkie finger and Shannon linked hers.

“Always.”

The soft clink of the small device when it fell into the metallic tray marked the beginning of a new unfamiliar chapter of her life. But Malia hoped it would be the best yet.

Lying on the grass side by side, Troy and May were in identical positions: arms bent, hands pillowing their heads, long legs stretched, and eyes focused on the blue sky above.

When did they become so alike?

Faces bathed by the soft golden glow, their eyes followed the clouds turning shades of orange and pink; fingers pointing while they probably guessed the forms, they resembled, a game the trio often plays together.

Like the apple trees in the new orchard, may grew taller last spring. The roundness of her face, immortalized in the drawing Malia hung on their cabin wall, had disappeared, and her voice lost the honeyed childlike melody, becoming hoarser. She’s growing up into a sweet troublemaker teen that still hangs with her adoptive parents, loves storytelling – Troy has most of her favorite tales and anecdotes –, gets excited with little things like new blooms each spring, making flower crowns and riding horses, but also carries too many scars in her young soul but somehow she never lets the sadness drown the happiness glowing in her eyes.

With a spring on her step, Malia crossed the remaining distance and knelt in the small gap between them. First, she kissed the girl’s forehead, who smiled, then turned around to gently press a kiss to Troy’s shapely lips. However, the man had other plans. Encircling her shoulders with his free arm, he pulled her down, turning the sweet gentle peck into a passionate kiss. Maybe too passionate to be given in public. But he always has a little trouble following etiquette when it comes to Malia.

“Gross!” May cried and covered her eyes with one arm. “Get a room!”

“Why is she sounding like Angel?” Malia whispered.

“I have asked myself the same. It’s either one of those Freaky Friday’s situation and we’re parenting a thirty-year-old woman with an unhealthy kink of blowing stuff up or this is a bad case of teenager...”

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“Good! It means your hearing is fine. Keep it like that!”

They laughed and May rolled her eyes for good measure, but a small barely there smile pulled at the corners of her lips. A hint the little girl still lives inside the 5’3 teenager.

“So...” Troy’s gaze and undivided interest returned to Malia. “Did you do it? Is it gone?”

Malia pressed a finger to his lips and with a nod signalled May’s presence, and discreetly raised a thumb in a positive sign.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked already pulling himself up in a swift motion.

Despite knowing it was impossible to get pregnant this soon, Malia laughed at his excitement, and allowed him to hold he held her hands to pull her up. Nobody knows when the apparently peaceful day can turn into a nightmare, and she shouldn’t pass the opportunity to just be happy, silly and hopeful – and let him fuck her brains out.

“Hey! Where are you going?” May cried, and they whirled around giggling.

“Getting a room!” Troy replied with a shit-eating grin.

“Eww! I’m a child! I don’t need to know that!”

“But you asked!” 

“Can I stay with Angel and Luna tonight?”  

“Sure, sweetie,” Malia said. “Don’t forget the rules!”

“Brush my teeth, keep it down and don’t blow things up – unless absolutely necessary.”

“Love you!” Troy and Malia cried back in unison and blew her a kiss.

Giggling like mischievous children , they darted towards the small cabin holding each other's hands.

While they sprinted through the field, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of honeysuckles blew through the taller grass blades creating green waves.

Life is good, Malia read in Troy’s eyes the same thought that crossed her mind.

Before the door closed behind them, Troy’s hot mouth was already on Malia’s neck, sucking on her skin.

“Eager much?”

“Don’t shame me for being a hundred percent devoted to a cause,” he whispered into her ear and nibbled at the earlobe. “Pants down.”

“So bossy.” She laughed while kicking the sneakers off her feet. His white t-shirt joined them on the floor.

“I’ll make you come and put a baby in your belly.”

His bare chest pressed against her back while his hands explored his favorite curves on her body.

“Hey, careful,” she said while moving his hand away from the bandage on her lower abdomen and up to the curve of one breast.

“Sorry,” he breathed and promptly used said hand to grab her breast over her clothes, while the other fiddled with the buttons of her denim pants. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No worries. I’ll be patient,” he whispered against her neck. “We won’t leave that room until there’s a baby in the oven.”

“Don’t you dare!” She crashed her lips to his in a passionate kiss and pushed him towards the bedroom.

While they blindly moved together, she pulled away from the kiss momentarily. “Shannon said we have to be patient. It can take a while for my body to be ready.”

“What?” she asked in shock, and he placed a hand over her stomach.

“This oven. Old World slang.”

“That’s creep.”

“I like the analogy.”

“Anyway. If I can get pregnant. Shannon will run some tests to be sure...”

He spun her and pressed her back against the wall. “Good luck to not end up like one of those corpses in the lab.” He chuckled pulling her t-shirt over her head, and kissed his way down her neck to the valley between her breasts.

“Don’t think for a moment she won’t poke you too.”

“Why?” He raised his face and looked up. His eyebrows knitted together so closely, that scrunched his forehead. “Didn’t you tell her we’re doing this Old-World style?”

“I did, but she wants to help.”

“Well, she can always join us. I won’t kick her out of the bed...”

She glared and punched his bare shoulder.

“Hey! What’s that for?”

“For being the wrong kind of horny now!”

“It’s a joke!” he chuckled. Hands on the curve of her lower back, he pulled her close, but she playfully shoved him away. Pretending not to be eager to see the rest of his clothes joining the growing pile of discarded ones on the floor. “You love my horniness. It’s my best feature!”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

It’s so not.

There’s so much she loves about him, but she won’t inflate his ego any more.

“Are you forgetting I was the one who suggested being exclusive?”

“You were jealous of how many people worshipped me...”

“I’m so not the possessive type –” He moved closer and in one swift motion his hands slid inside her jeans and underneath her panties and firmly palmed her ass. Malia shivered and let him pull her closer again to whisper in her ear. “– And you know you are the one and only for me, Maly.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you.”

“Do you now?” she teased.

“When have I not?” He kissed one cheek and then the other. “I loved you before I knew what love was...”

She inhaled deeply and allowed his lips to trace the curve of her neck, and her heart fluttered.

Malia and Troy aren’t fluent in feelings. They won’t compose songs or deliver long speeches about their undying love. But whenever they do talk about their feelings, they mean it. They mean everything to each other.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his black hair, while holding him tighter. Her heart so full of love. “Let’s make some cute babies!”

“Don’t ask me twice,” he said pulling her legs up to encircle his bare waist, and kicked the door closed. “In the blink of an eye, we’ll have a trio of loud kids quacking around our home!”

He laughed and stared at her smiling but unknowingly expression while he carried her to the bed.

“Seriously?”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe you still didn’t get it.”

“Can I hold him now?” May’s voice came as the softest whisper as if scared not only to wake up the baby but disturb the order of the entire universe. “Please?”

Her pleading drew Malia’s attention away from the baby in her arms.

For the past several minutes she has been practically hypnotized by him quietly sleeping in her arms, oblivious to the two sitting on the bed at each of her sides, welcoming the baby into their little loving awkward family. There were so many emotions in her eyes and face that shone despite the weak flame from the only small lamp Troy put beside the bed.

Nodding, Malia passed the baby to the eager arms and helped May hold him steadily.

She didn’t need to tell her to be gentle, because she touched him as one of the delicate seedlings she cultivates. Her fingers ran through the black and thick hair that looks almost like a wig on the top of his little head, and gently stroked the side of his face, drawing them along his chubby cheeks. His lips drew together like he was ready to have another go at his mother’s breasts for another dose of milk, but his eyes remained closed shut, and a serene expression returned to his face as he continues to sleep.

Malia and Troy shared an affectionate look and he leaned his head on her shoulder and rested his hand over hers.

“You should be resting. Doc’s orders,” Troy whispered. “I can take him to the crib and keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll help,” May offered.

“Five more minutes.”

“You said that half an hour ago...”

“How do you expect me to sleep now that he’s finally here?”

“You’ll regret it when you’re low batt and a parade of visitors come to meet the baby first thing in the morning...”

“Another reason I can’t sleep: we have to name him.”

“What about Huey?” Troy could barely stifle his laughter with the back of his hand.

“We’re not naming our son after a cartoon duck!” Malia snorted, and this was definitely the reaction he was expecting all-along.

“Took your sweet time to figure it out!”

“Not all of us are obsessed with Old World’s stuff..."

“That’s called culture.”

May shushed them and they smiled.

“Any suggestion?” Malia whispered.

“I like Cedar,” May said, “and Knox.”

“Knox,” he said and hummed in consideration. “I like it. But don’t you think he looks like a Neo?”

“Neo means new,” May said softly, “And he is the first baby to be born in the new colony. Very symbolic.”

“And it’s the name of that cool guy with shades who got out of the Matrix to save the world.”

“Hero name. Rad!”

“Isn’t it too much pressure to a little baby?” Malia pondered.

“Our baby is destined to do great things,” he said softly. “Also, it’ a short name. If he turns out to be dumb, he won’t have a problem learning it.”

“Man! That’s so mean!” Malia elbowed him. “How can you say that about our baby?”

Laughing, he held her hand. “It’s a joke. How can he not be awesome if you made him yourself?”

“We made him.”

She leaned her head over his, and asked softly, “Do we all agree with Neo?”

“It’s not as great as Cedar... But I like it.”

Birds chirped and through the window shutters warm spots of sunrise peppered the opposite wall.

Breathing quietly in her sleep, May’s long dishevelled hair had fallen over and covered her face. Malia’s fingers pulled them back and after pressing the softest kiss to her temple, she rolled over, getting out of the bed. The painkillers were wearing off and she desperately needed to pee. After taking care of both needs, she found the crib empty.

In the other room, where they do basically every other activity that is not sleeping – and making cute babies –, Troy was sitting on the improvised couch which was basically an old mattress over a wooden structure covered with throwing pillows and a nice quilted blanket she and Eli made on their spare time two winters ago.

Eyes closed, Troy covered his shoulders with the blanket and held the sleeping baby against his chest.

Malia leaned against the wall and smiled at the scene.

“Why are you up?” he asked without opening his eyes. “I got it covered.”

“I know. I was just appreciating the view. Never imagined you could look hotter,” she teased.

The man’s eyes fluttered open, and his smirk turned into a full grin, “Haven’t you heard? Being an awesome father is the new sexy.”

“Definitely,” she said sitting beside him carefully to not disturb the baby’s rest.

“Have you got any sleep?”

“Sleep is overrated.”

Troy rested his head against hers, and asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted. Sore. Happy. Like a badass for delivering this awesome baby... 75% amazing, 24% tired and 1% terrified it’s a dream...”

“It’s 100% real.”

“Hmmm... That is exactly what Dream Troy would say...”

He chuckled and raised his head to meet her eyes.

“What can Real Troy do to convince you it’s all true?”

Malia smiled, and her gaze moved from his affectionate brown eyes to the baby in his arms, lightly wheezing in his sleep. It has just been a few hours, but her heart is so full of love for this child and this urge to protect him. How can it be so?

“Real Troy can give my beautiful baby back so I can smell his head again... and nurse him. That would be great.”

Smiling, Troy leaned and let Malia carefully take Neo from his arms. The baby yawned and his eyelashes fluttered but his eyes remained closed. Malia sniffed the top of his head and smiled, before offering one nipple that was readily taken by an eager and tiny toothless mouth.

“Anything else, mama bear?”

“You can kiss me and get some sleep.”

Troy kissed her lips but didn’t go to bed. He fell asleep leaning over her shoulder, and Malia closed her eyes too, enjoying this happiness.

Sometimes this world isn't shitty, sometimes life is good. Just like now.

[roy-dcm2]

DBZ Theory Frieza's True Form

Here's a new one theory that I've been ruminating about for a few weeks. Let me be upfront, this actually a theory about Frieza's BIOLOGY, how does his species's Transformations work.

One lingering questions has been, which of Frieza's forms was he born in? Was it his "Fourth Form" (the white purple version) and then he shifted down to the "First Form" (small pink with horns)? Or Vice-versa?

[Personal note - I've always considered Freiza as having only 3 forms. I view Big Pink w/Horns as just an extension of Small Pink w/Horns. But I'm not here to convince anyone of that.]

Before I get to my main point, let me explain something else I discovered that let me to my current theory.

Let's talk about Cell, Dr. Gero's Ultimate Life-form. Cell is a mixture of the Z warriors, plus Frieza's species, too. Cell actually exhibits a few traits that were hard to place, for instance his regenerative abilities.

We always assumed that his capacity to regenerate from just a clump of tissue was a supercharged version of Piccolo's ability to regrow his limbs. But Piccolo has a clear limit that his head has to be undamaged. Why doesn't that affect Cell?

As I was watching The Return of Cooler for the first time, I saw that Cooler survived as just a head. Then I remembered Frieza survived the explosion of Namek despite massive head trauma. And in Resurrection F, Frieza survived as a a bunch of chunks of meat, including is head in several pieces.

That's where it comes from!

Cell can regenerate his head because the Ice Demons doesn't need a complete head to survive. (That raises the question of where is the Ice Demon consciousness is located, but that's a question for another time.)

Anyway, recently I was rewatching the Cell Saga and I noticed a particular ability that Cell has but no one ever seems to talk about. Cell is actually from the future and he traveled back in time, but to do so he reverted himself back into an Egg.

What a strange, random ability for Cell to have. Saiyans and Namekians can't do that, I'm pretty sure. It could only come from the Ice Demons! That's it!

Freiza's species can probably go up and down on their transformations.

It doesn't really matter which is actually their first form, but I'd have to guess Freiza born in the Small Pink w/ Horns form, since his transformations are more like an insect's metamorphosis, rather than transformations like a Saiyan.

But I imagine, they mainly go up on their transformation scale, because it comes with a great boost in power. Shifting down leaves the Ice Demons more vulnerable since it greatly limits their power levels. (That's why Cell reverted into an Egg - to hide his power level)

It's probably a leftover survival mechanism... like if the environment is not suitable for their needs they can revert into an egg. Or if they can't find a mate. It's kinda like Hibernation for them. There are some species of crustaceans that can control their metamorphosis, even staying in the "adolescent" stages for a long time. Frieza felt no need to metamorphosis to increase his survival rate until he fought on Namek.

It's likely the small and smooth form is supposed to be the "Adult" form of the Ice Demons. (It does raise some questions about Cooler's forms and Kuriza, but those are best left for another time)

In summation, my theory is that Freiza's true form is likely the White and Purple "Fourth" Form. It's what I believe his biology was ratcheting up towards. It is his Adult form. But if he ever needed to, Frieza could revert back into his "first form" or possibly all the way back into an Egg. (Not that he'll ever need to do that.)

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.53 thoughts

[Solve. Die. Repeat.]

(Contents: reminiscing, character analysis - Omomuro and Iroha, thematic analysis - victory, speculation)

Oh man, this might just be my favorite chapter so far, and none of my best girls were even really in it! We love a good bookend in this house

I'm actually pretty miffed that Nisio included a Kogoe Lesson to explain the parallel to the Q5, it doesn't leave me with a lot to talk about. Maybe that's supposed to be insight into Kogoe's character, but it kind of feels like Nisio wasn't confident that people would remember a chapter from literally a year ago

But I do remember that chapter and I remember it very fondly. Q5 was the first puzzle I actually tried to solve in this story, and I got really into it! I got a pencil and paper, I did research, I tackled it from every angle I could trying to understand it. Sure, I ended up being wildly off base for the actual method of solving it, but for a moment, I was just like Iroha. I was just as invested and had just as much fun trying to crack the code by myself, of my own power. If I hadn't gotten hung up on one little inconsistency in my own logic, I might have actually been able to figure it out too! I still wouldn't have been able to figure out what the answer meant since I wouldn't be able to translate it, but it ended up not mattering anyway, the act of solving it was what mattered in this instance

This chapter is my favorite because it's a beautiful little benchmark for how far we've come. Iroha isn't the one struggling to solve the question, he's the one posing it and was able to think of it practically on the fly rather than taking several hours to do so. Maybe only a couple months have passed in story, but Iroha has grown so much in the last year without ever losing what made him who he is: he's confident and clever now in a way he never really was back then, but he's still just as kind and honest

Like Iroha says, it was because of Q5 that he was able to make it this far. With the exception of Q3 (which Iroha didn't solve at all), the first four code were all solved using the Glasses Weapon, which makes sense on the basis that Iroha was only just starting out. Q5, easily the hardest code he'd faced yet, was the first one he had to solve completely on his own, and it showed him both that he was capable of solving codes and that he enjoyed doing so, a crucial part of his success going forward. There were very few codes that he ever used Glasses Weapons to solve after that, the only ones I can immediately recall being the dancer and the maze to decide the brackets for the CLP tournament. Other than that, he's made every effort to solve codes honestly, which allowed him to grow in a way that using a cheat system never would have

It also makes sense that Iroha looks up to Omomuro so much specifically, even ignoring how she inspired him with Q5. They're pretty great foils for each other: Iroha is a feminine man with the drive to be a leader but still often has to rely on his followers, Omomuro is a masculine woman (a lot like Amvicious) who only sees herself as a follower but often insists on acting alone. Even now, Iroha is fighting to make sure everyone makes it out in one piece, while Omomuro is letting herself fall to pieces so that one person, Toshusai, can succeed. Iroha wants no sacrifices if he can help it, but just like Omomuro, he's the type who will throw himself into the line of fire if it means giving someone else the chance to survive. The key difference, though, is that Iroha isn't throwing himself away when he does that, he's just putting himself on the line with the hope and confidence that he can make it to the other side unscathed, while Omomuro isn't concerned with her own wellbeing at all

Finally, the result of this code battle is the diametric opposite of the previous as well: Iroha went over the time limit, but still solved the code, technically making it a draw, while this time, Omomuro solved the code flawlessly but admitted defeat, technically meaning that both sides won. A stalemate on a technicality and a victory through mutual benefit; we may still be in the Friendship arc, but Nisio won't shy away from discussing the theme of Victory

Since this isn't the first time that Iroha has won through the opponent solving his code (ch.13, Iroha tricks Nohime into apologizing to Toshusai), I'm getting the feeling that the Victory arc of this story is going to pull similar tricks along the way. No-win scenarios for Iroha or others, Pyrrhic victories, hidden safety nets; the possibilities are endless, and Nisio is rarely, if ever, going to be straightforward with it, but as he's been saying the entire series, it's only a victory if everyone makes it home alive

I hope everyone loved this chapter as much as I did, and I hope to be able to touch base like this with our cast next year

Until next time

[remyxavierr]

I gotta say, something I've never grown out of and something that I know is very childish, is how petty I can be when someone really pisses me off. My parents had a lot of anger issues, so my sisters and I were yelled at often which caused me to grow into a person who is terrified of confrontation and almost always cries when anyone raises their voice. The only way I knew, as a child, preteen, teenager, and then adult, to have some sense of power was to be petty. I would respond with passive aggressive-ness, malicious compliance, and anything similar to it.

I have done things in my past that would be considered direct confrontation, like pouring a drink over a girl's head because she was saying untrue things about me to people, but situations like that were very rare and were usually instigated by friends who wanted me to stand up for myself.

A current instance of being petty is because of an animal rescue I'm currently trying to adopt a cat from. The woman who owns it, Vanessa, has been to our house multiple times, knows us and my wife's parents, but still insists on doing a thorough application process, including calling references and a virtual tour of the house, which I totally understand. You want to ensure the safety and care of the animal you're adopting out, I have no problems with that. What I do have a problem with is the lady who owns the rescue, Vanessa, texted me Friday asking if we could do the home tour Saturday or Sunday. I texted back immediately saying I worked all day Saturday, but I'm off Sunday, so anytime on Sunday I could make work. She didn't text me back the entire day. The next day (Saturday) she responds that Sunday is great but she is currently at yoga so she'll text me afterwards to set up the time for Sunday. She did not text me back all day. It is now Sunday and it is almost noon and I STILL have not heard back from her. I can't run any errands or leave my house at all because I'm waiting on her when she was supposed to have texted me YESTERDAY. She is running a business and this is a business transaction. This is not how you run a business. The lack of professionalism and basic respect is so frustrating. I'm trying to give her hundreds of dollars for an animal that I adored upon meeting, and she can't even spare one minute to text me back? So I'm going to wait this out, see if she even gets back to me, I'm not going to text her again and ask if we're still on for today, I'm going to deal with this whole unnecessarily long process to adopt this kitty, and then I am going to be the first person to leave her rescue a scathing review.

You know, it's crazy, all of her reviews are 5 stars and the comments talk about communication and thoroughness and kindness and respect, and I'm just wondering if all the reviews are just from friends. My wife's mom even left a review, talking about how great the rescue is, and I know it's just because they're friends since all of my wife's mom's cats are from a different rescue and she's never fostered for this rescue before. So maybe she treats people she's not friends with with no respect? I don't know, but I'm going to ruin her google rating and I can't wait to see her response to my review.