#i'm very grateful for halo

[fionnaskyborn]

very much related to that last post but i adore how nearly everyone that's ever played odst lives their life after having played the game imagining themselves as the game's protagonist trudging down the street with smooth jazz playing in the background whenever it rains during nighttime. i remember someone posted a video of some ambient jazz playing on a desolate bus station or something not too long ago and every single person in the comment section and the quote retweets was making an odst reference in one way or another. it's such a delightful phenomenon.

#logs #of course i am guilty of this i am so incredibly guilty of this and every moment i spend doing this soaks into my blood and makes me #incredibly happy #i'm very grateful for halo #and yeah it sounds silly to be grateful for videogames. but i am. they keep changing my life for the better in a world constantly trying to #change it for the worse. i'm very grateful for videogames.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 

*

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 

Dustin starts squealing. 

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 

"Baker boy, hi!" 

Steve's mouth goes dry. 

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 

"Told you I was the best." 

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 

"We'd love to stay!" 

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

[yuri-is-online]

hi, there! :D I hope to be on time for the event can I request :

(Finding a confession letter in your locker) With Silver, Jade and Deuce? Plz

22. Finding a confession letter in your locker

Hi hi you are very much on time of course you can （＾ワ＾）

Also just letting you know here, I did get your other request and do not mind answering it at all (though i am going to post some other ones first), in my og post I mentioned the prompts were limited by ask, so you submitted everything correctly, don't worry!

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, fluff, Jade is a red flag as usual. Check out the rest of the event requests here.

Silver

There is an unfairly pretty looking man asleep in front of the gym lockers, face down, arms at his side, but with the light still hitting his hair just right way to make him look like he has a halo. You know that Silver won't be upset if you try to wake him, but as you kneel to do so, the slight creak of an unkempt hinge draws your attention up from your sleeping senior to your own slightly open locker.

Weird, you could have sworn you locked it at the end of class.

"Silver?" You decide to try calling out to him while you examine your locker for any sign of tampering beyond the obvious. "You good down there?" Nothing seems to have been taken, but something has been left: a letter. Gingerly, you remove and settle yourself on the floor next to Silver, gently shaking him as you open it.

Yuu,

I'm afraid that if I try to simply say to you how I feel, I won't be able to fully convey just how grateful I am to have met you, just how much you mean to me. But I want to try and give you a confession you deserve so please, meet me in the courtyard after your classes. I promise to say the words to you then.

-Silver

"I wasn't supposed to still be here when you read that." A muffled voice draws your attention back to Silver, who slowly pushes himself up to look into your eyes. "But since I am, I like you prefect." The words are simple, but the sincerity of his gaze adds the weight he was so afraid of missing.

Jade

You were screwed. The instant you saw the condition of the letter inside that lavender envelope you knew it was never meant to be seen, least of all by the person it was addressed to. The paper was hastily torn from a composition book, crumpled and lightly stained with what you assume from the scent is tea. No, you can't really picture someone as collected as Jade allowing the messy parts of his thoughts to be seen

You are a mystery I want to unravel

I never get tired of your voice

I want to be the first person they think of in the morning and the last thing they imagine at night. When they are alone I want them to long to return to my side, when someone hurts them I want to be the one who repays their enemies in kind. There is a word for these emotions, something that's as wonderfully unpredictable as it is painful-

A head rests on your shoulder, two strong arms pull you into an embrace that prevents you from seeing his face as a deep sigh tickles your ear, reciting from memory the destroyed portion of the letter-

"That word is love, I am in love with Yuu." Jade smiles into your neck as you shudder in surprise. "Since you are not attempting to run away, can I assume I have something of a chance?"

Deuce

"Is it just me or is Juice acting weird today?" Ace asks, slacking off away from Vargas's watchful eyes behind you and Grim. Not that you haven't noticed, but now that Ace mentions it- "I mean he's sneaking out of class, isn't PE the one he's actually good at?" You both look pointedly towards the lockers Deuce is not so sneakily heading towards with concern.

"Um, I'll be right back." You try to hide your concern but the judgmental faces that see you off suggest you aren't exactly successful. Deuce's broad shoulders disappear into the hallway and you attempt to calmly follow. Maybe he's sick? Or has forgot something? You run through so many scenarios that you fail to pay attention to where you are going and walk right into your target's back.

"Prefect!" Deuce jumps and you fluster, both of you look away from each other to the locker Duece had been standing in front of. "I'm sorry." He looks so embarrassed. You reach to open your locker as Deuce continues. "I really am sorry, it's just I thought really hard about the right way to confess but we have almost every class together..." Sure enough there's a letter sat neatly on top of your things, sealed with a neat spade sticker that leaves little doubt about who it's from.

"Technically you just did." You laugh and bring the letter close to your heart. "Meet me at Ramshackle after school."

"Why?" He asks, clearly nervous.

"Well you wanted to properly confess right? So let me properly answer." Technically the smile on your face already does.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #silver x reader #jade leech x reader #deuce spade x reader #did jade destroy his own love letter? or was he set up? #vote now on your phones

[gingerjolover]

Detangle - Julien Baker x fem!crew!reader

Synopsis: Julien's gf helps her get unready after BG's Halloween show at the Hollywood Bowl :') (jesus!julien x crew!reader)

G's notes: gf is lowkey a costume designer? she's crew, but I'm putting her on the same part of the team as makeup artist! also thank you guys for being patient, if only you could see my WIP in google docs rn....

wc: somewhere around 875?

warnings: RPF, jesus!julien, slightly smutty, some light kissin n touchin, no fundamental physical descriptors?

There are very few things that could tear your eyes away from watching your girlfriend headbang onstage while dressed as Jesus. In fact, the entire thing feels like a fever dream. From sourcing the angel costumes for the band, hand-bedazzling Lucy's jacket, sewing Phoebe's veil, and then soundcheck, the lead-up to the Halloween show has felt like a whirlwind.

You're entirely unfocused, eyes parading down Julien's body, only half listening to the cues for an outfit change. "Here," your assistant says softly, eyes sparkling while watching the stage in admiration. She's handing you the boys' original jackets in order of who comes off stage first. You smile at her, grateful she's paying attention while you ogle the somewhat sacrilegious display onstage.

It's within minutes everyone is rushing off to side stage, clothes flying everywhere. Lucy is undoubtedly the easiest to change, so you work with her quickly, carefully adjusting her halo on her head before switching out her white suit jacket for Julien's original jacket. "Thank you," she whispers, kissing your cheek lightly before dashing off, Julien appearing in front of you.

"Hi pretty girl," she says out of breath, leaning in to kiss your lips quickly, already stripping off her robes.

"Jay, leave them on...no don't do that, your hair!" you excalim, Julien obviously was not listening to you earlier when you were standing between her legs bobby-pinning the crown to her hair. "Sorry, sorry-I" Julien stammers as you help her readjust the robes on her shoulders, sliding Phoebe's original jacket over her, "It's okay, you having fun?" you ask with a big smile, kissing her gently.

"The best time ever, I love you," Julien mumbles agaisnt your lips, kissign you once more on your cheek before winking and heading back out.

Your assistant is rushing Phoebe back onto the stage when you both stand beside each other, taking a deep breath before watching the rest of the show. It goes by in a blink. Before you know it, everyone is filing off stage, much slower this time. Julien, Lucy, and Phoebe walk off holding hands, doing a quick but tender group hug right off-stage before they separate, and Julien comes bounding over to you, immediately scooping you up and spinning you around. "How was it?" she asks, mouth already attached to your neck. You can't help but giggle, holding her head as she finally puts you back on the ground. "It was amazing, as always," you say.

"Oh god," you say, looking at her hair, your fingers assessing how tangled the crown is in her hair. "Not God, just me...actually, I'm the son of God," Julien says, eyes wide in a cocky smirk, holding out her arms.

"You're so..." you start, moving Julien further backstage and into the room where y'all got ready. "Sexy? Intelligent? Holy?" Julien rattles off, wiggling her eyebrows as she walks backward, trusting you to walk her in the right direction. "I was going to say ridiculous, but the first two definitely," you smile, eyes twinkling. "Not so much the third one," you giggle. "Oh, why's that?" Julien smirks, sitting in the hair chair in the empty "glam" room. "I don't think it's holy to dress up as Jesus," you start to say, Julien looking up at you with wide, almost glassy eyes, a look common post-show. "And your underwear," you snort. "What about my underwear? It says for God's eyes only," Julien goads, leaning back in the chair, watching you grab a comb and some detangler. "God wasn't the only one looking," you smirk, standing between her legs. "No, he was not," Julien groans, holding onto your hips, "You did a lot more than look," Julien mumbles, smile widening.

"Don't get all worked up," you murmur, smirking, starting to detangle her hair, pulling one piece that was particularly tangled when she all but squeals. "Ow, babe," she exclaims, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed as she leans back a pace, staring at you offended.

"What?"

"That shit hurts!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't headbang so hard, your hair wouldn't be intertwined with your crown right now," you scold softly.

She grumbles, letting you get about 75% of the crown out of her hair before she's whining again. "You're tugging too hard, princess, my neck hurts."

"Me tugging isn't making your neck hurt, seriously Jules, you headbang so hard on stage, and I'm scared you're gonna get whiplash."

"Can't help that I'm a rockstar," she mumbles, finding your eyes before rolling them teasingly before hissing when you pull a chunk of hair.

"Stay still," you giggle, kissing her nose softly. Within 5 minutes, the rest of the crown is out, and you're handing it to Julien so she can keep it. "C'mon, we can pack up and get you unready at the house. Sounds like backstage is filling up," you comment. You can hear the voices of the various friends and peers who came to see the show down the hallway.

"Thanks, angel," Julien whispers, smirking softly as she uses the pet name, hopping off the chair and pulling you into her arms, dipping you ever so slightly to press a passionate kiss to your lips. "Vacation time starts now," she whispers teasingly, her hands in the back pockets of your pants, squeezing gently.

#anon cutie requested #julien baker x reader #julien baker x fem!reader #julien baker x crew!reader #julien baker mini fic #boygenius x reader #boygenius mini fic #jesus!julien x crew!reader #gingy's halloweekend

[ghostieyanyan]

Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.

hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?

~Let the fire purify you~

Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc

Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,

~~~

Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.

How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...

But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...

He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.

With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-

until-

he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.

your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.

~

All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.

to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...

Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.

no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.

~

Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.

when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.

you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.

"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.

"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."

"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"

"w-well.."

It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...

"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."

"hmm.."

Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.

"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"

since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..

"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"

Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.

"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"

the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...

"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"

"Earned..?"

Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.

"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."

you start walking to the door but stopped.

"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."

you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.

"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"

you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.

You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.

~

you had so many questions...

why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.

what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..

how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst

you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..

you started to slowly open your eyes..

where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?

you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..

you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?

you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!

if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.

what happened?! what's going on?!?

you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-

"oh my dear! you're awake."

your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.

"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"

with a heavy chest, you spoke.

"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"

"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"

"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."

you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.

"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."

he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.

You did. you don't really have a choice right now..

"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"

you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.

"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."

you stared at him but he kept smiling.

"magicless.. like me..?"

"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."

you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..

magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!

Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.

"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"

"...mon...ster..."

Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.

"excuse me..?"

you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?

"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."

he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.

You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..

the silence was deafening.

Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.

"take. that. back."

"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."

you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.

"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."

he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.

you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.

After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.

"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."

Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.

you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.

Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.

"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"

when he went to grab your face, he-

"MC!!"

those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..

"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."

#twst fanart #twst #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #art #digital art #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst x reader #rollo flamme #twst rollo #twisted wonderland rollo #rollo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #tw yandere #yandere rollo #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo x reader #rollo flamme x reader #glorious masquerade #twisted wonderland #twst art #rollo flamm

[silvergarnet12]

Splatoon was the first Nintendo game to push me out of my comfort zone of single player games, and with the closure of it's servers I wanted to draw a tribute to a game that really means a lot to me.

Some long rambles about the game under the cut.

When I first played the Global Testfire I was 15, and the only mutliplayer games I played were with friends in the same room.

Splatoon was also the first shooter I ever picked up, as I always liked bright colours over more realistic graphics in my games, and back then the only shooters I knew about were Halo(and that was only really a name to me!) and the CoD games.

Any worries I had about being bad quickly vanished as the sheer vibe of chaotic fun the game had, particularly when no one had played it before, got rid of any worries, and all I remember is having fun. And choosing to play as the guy instead of the girl for the first time, solely becuase I wanted a ponytail like in real life(I would continue to use the guy through the series as a tradition, a contrast to what I saw most people online doing).

When the game came out I binged the single player, and vividly remember the first time I fought DJ Octavio, and the first time I heard Calamari Inkantation. If ever a game was to convince me that a song could irreversibly change your life, it was Splatoon. Because to teenage me, in that moment, with Calamari Inkantation playing in the background while I fought an octupus DJ, it did.

It gave me terminal brainworms for this series. And here I am, 8 yrs later. Older and more tired, been through some shit, had some good times, tried, succeeded and failed in things throughout the years.

I've always been grateful that they made the decision for the player character from 1 to return, everytime they've shown up it's felt a bit like seeing an old friend, especially since as the games time skips have always had them close to my age(which probably helped my attachement back in the first game). So hi Three, can't believe we both probably pay taxes now.

I have the original two Inkling Amiibos, in a collection that is slowly building, I'm still attached to Marie, and yes I was on her team for the Final Splatfest.

I cried when it was over, just like I did in 2's Final Fest(I was team chaos, two for two baby!) and will probably do so for 3's as well. Something about this series just makes me super attached to it's world and characters.

So booyah Splatoon, my final online game of yours was well and truly years ago, but I replayed story mode to share you with a friend recently, and I think I'll refight Octavio tonight in honour of the good times.

You encouraged me to try out games I wouldn't have otherwise(hello Overwatch and Deep Rock Galactic), and outlasted one of the other major games of my teenage years(...Overwatch 1 I miss you). So thank you for that.

I'll miss Squid Jump, Inkstrike, the og kit for the NZap 89(why does it's new one not vibe with me ;-;), the Squid Sister's broadcasts and the more saturated colours. At least I can always return to the Plaza in 3, and that Spyke isn't dead like I was concerned he was when 3 released, and see the Squid Sisters perform during Splatfests again.

I have so much more to say in my heart about you but no more ways to word it.

You've been a fantastic game, and will always be a treasured experience that I am grateful to have been a apart of from the very beginning.

Now bring back Moray Towers in 3 damn it! It's in 2 but I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY FAVOURITE STAGE IF IT"S NOT IN 4.

#splatoon #splatoon shutdown #my art #wii u #nintendo

[deadpool15]

My girl

Watching her sit there and dance now, that was amazing. I mean, I love to see my girl dance, especially since I know it took her a lot of courage to battle someone like Kristen. She was known in the dance world, and when she went up their you could see it in everyone's eyes. Curiosity yet excitement, though no one wished to take one that level themselves, so when she stood up and looked at us, I knew at that moment I would be happy no matter what. Bada was always cheering us on throughout the entire competition she was on our side. Even when I told her I had a thing for her little sister Yaya. She was our youngest member on the BEBE crew, and now everyone saw the skill and wanted her to join, but she didn't. "You're an amazing dancer, Yaya, and you would be a great addition to the crew. When have I ever been wrong about something like this," we watched Bada sit there trying to compromise with her younger sister, who before today we had no idea she had. "You're my big sister. You're supposed to say that. Can you imagine what it will be like. At times like this, I'm grateful we don't look alike, I'll be known as the downgrade Lee sister."

After some time, we managed to get her on the crew, even getting her to become my girlfriend with the help of her older sister, of course. Getting her listening to the comments of our crew was tough, like we knew that everyone was gonna put on a facade for the show but like wow they were either very good at it or just shit talking for fun. Then, when we heard the comments about Yaya, all hell broke loose.

Biggy- So it seems we have more then a two international teams?

Nob- But she is on team BEBE, so probably just another one of Bada's lost cause of a student.

Redlic- Yes, I remember her she took one of my classes before she isn't the best. It was actually sad to watch.

Redy- She is Bada's younger sister, I remember seeing her when she was a lot younger during our Cupcakes era.

Halo- I would hate to be her. Imagine living in someone's shadow your entire life.

I looked over and was pissed how dare they say that about my fucking girl. She is more talented than any of these wannabes. "That's bullshit and they know it," we were all shocked by Badas' words. Never had she been so ill tempted to swear on camera. We sat down comforting Yaya. She has always been the sensitive type. "Hey, bubbs, don't listen to even of them, ok? You have more talent in your left thumb than they have in their entire bodies." I tell her, smiling while grabbing her body to bring her closer to me. The rest of the team starts nodding their heads, agreeing with me. Everyone else comes down with LADYBOUNCE glaring at us like we were supposed to be scared or gi e a shit.

Back to where we were, the dance battle with Kristen was normal, giving us your average thrill and suspense until it started getting sexual. Now I know how people think when they see Yaya, shit I think like that when I see her. Kristen was giving her the bedroom eyes, my fucking girl. Everyone was sealed once Yaya gained a burst of confidence and decided to throw her ass back against Kristen. Now, any other time one would say a great battler plays along with thie opponents, dancing with them to throw them off their game, it's something I've learned in freestyle. Now, when I see people do it, I praise them for having good battle techniques, but as soon as Kristen started angling her hips to catch some ass I was done. The battle was over. Well, there was, and it seemed like my mine had just begun.

Before I knew it Kristen started becoming closer, I mean Jam Republic as a whole was cool and buddies with us but none of them shared such a distinct interest in a short, ebony beautiful young lady that happened to me my fucking girl. Getting her number to hand out was cool, I'm not overly possessive, so I was fine with that. Going shopping and eating together was ok, but clubbing was just a fucking no no. This leads us to this moment. "Baby, I love you so much, ok. And I trust you wholeheartedly. But you're not going to club with Kristen." I say while holding her waist, causing her smile to drop and back up from me. "Why, not?" I truly do love my baby, but she was so oblivious that sometimes anyone could see that girl wanted her except of course herself. "Baby, she has been trying to get with you for months, and I know she is your friend, and you see her as one, but she definitely wants fuck you ok. Anyone can see it. Especially in that dress I mean I would wanna fuck you too." She smiled for a moment before remembering the situation and there it goes the argument had begin.

"You have always had some time against her from day one when she is just trying to be nice. She is my friend, and I don't say shit about any of your friends that you have out with when you wanna go dance and drink." I was sitting on the bed staring at her. She looked so beautiful in that dress, but it left nothing to the imagination. Her ass was literally hanging out, and it was hard to focus on the right things. "First of all, watch your mouth. You know I don't like the swearing, and second I don't exactly have anything against Kristen, I'm pretty sure she is a nice person when she isn't trying to get into other people's girlfriends pants baby," she rolls her eyes at me before sucking her teeth and then going to the bathroom. "OK, I'm being patient with your baby, and I completely understand you're upset. You got all pretty, and you can't go out, so how about we go do something, huh? Go on a date." I tell her to try to ease the attitude she is having now before I blow up on her. "First of all, fuck you. I'm not going anywhere with you, and second, I'm a grown ass woman. I can swear when I want to, especially when my girlfriend feels like being annoying, ok?" I clenched my jaw before yanking her towards me and shoving her on the bed. "Can't be fucking nice to you can I? You wanna go out and be pretty for your little friend ok. Let's make you look all pretty for her."

And that's how we ended up in this position, with her face down ass up as I shoved my strap into her back to back. I had pressed the record button on my phone a while ago, getting the idea of sending Kristen a little message to make shit clear. "Aww, come on, baby, your camera shy now. You usually love the camera. Love sha-aking your ass on people and all that stuff, don't you. Look at the fucking camera little girl." She glazes up through her lashes, looking so fucking ruined. Just how I like her. Eyes rolling to the back of her head after coming for the fourth time tonight. "Tired baby?" She moans out voice only able to produce moans at this point, she was all fucked out. But I had a point to prove. "How about you tell our little friend here who you belong to, baby?" I smirk, watching her start to scratch the pillows up again, gasping for her. Pushing into her slowly now while rubbing clit. Pussy all swollen, and dripping from the previous times she came. "Can you do it, baby, since you are so grown. Remember that?"

She started whining for me to go faster until I looked to up and seeing Kristen texted her. "Would you look at that baby, your little admirer misses you. I wonder where you are and why you're so busy." I make sure to thrust faster after each word. Her cries can be heard all the way outside the room. "S-soo.... s-sorry....pls." I smile at that, "Are you baby. Ready to be my little obedient girl again, aren't you. Just tell me who you belong to." She tries to hide in my neck away from the camera before yelling out. "M-Minah... Belong to Minah. All yours." I push myself up while grabbing her hips to thrust faster and play with her beautiful tits. I lean over, kissing her cheek before shoving my tongue in her mouth. "That's right, baby, my girl." By the time I was done with her, she forgot all about her plans with Kristen, we lay in bed cuddling while watching a movie, then I looked at the phone and sent the video to her, gotta make sure she understands. "All mine."

(Request by @itstherenaissance)

#street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #minah lee #team bebe #mina lee x reader

[neverchecking]

i really like your writing!! omg!! may i please request some nsfw with soft yandere four?? preferably like an unexpected sexual advance from reader and four is just kinda like "omg .... my goddess... touching me... what is happening" like brain mush sorta like the hyrule fic lol

take your time and drink lots of water!

You absolutely can! So, Four is one of the Links that I'm not too too confident writing about, but I can't get better if I don't do it!

Sidebar; Yall went feral over that Hyrule fic and I just adore it.

Drink all your water too, Darling!

(If you saw something earlier, no you didn't.)

Smut, so 18+ MDNI!

Smut CW: AFAB! Reader, Mutual Masturbation, Hand jobs, fingering, gentle praise, soft sleepy sex.

Handling the Heat

He did not have the Triforce of Courage.

He never wielded the Master Sword.

But he did have something the others did not. Something that made him eternally grateful

The Minish were dastardly little devils under the guise of angelic little mice, scampering and hiding away from plain sight. They were fast little things, keen and deceptively deceiving, never truly giving themselves away unless they absolutely wanted to.

But they knew Four relied on them never showing themselves to you, unless he was there. They were his eyes when he could not be there. They saw things. They heard things. They knew about every little secret you tried shoving away. And then they told him. Because he was the only one with more than a single braincell in this goddess forsaken group. The only one who could be tasked with your care.

You had a way of making the smattering of voices and emotions in his head settle. Like an eye in a storm that howled like no other. Like a settle in an earth quake where the tectonic plates just want to crash against each other. Like a soothing balm on a burn that he had long since allowed to fester with an angry sizzle.

And he just could not let you go. He couldn't! So, he may have included the help of the Minish. That's not illegal. You don't even know about it! So what harm is it really?

He didn't see any harm in it! It kept you safe and his nerves at ease. The colors all agreed it was for the best, and at that point it was majority rules.

Who was he to disagree?

No one, that's who.

Closing the door to the inn room, he let a small smile creep onto his features. They had a protocol for Inns, since there was ten of them and there was very rarely ever an inn that had ten individual rooms, where they all paired up (Sometimes even split into threes or fours) and took a bed/room/whatever was available. Four ensured that he was the only one you trusted enough to share with. It got him close to you and forged such a strong bond between you two that it made his heart positively flutter. The feeling of your skin, warm to the touch, against his; the comforting rhythm of your breathing, steady and consistent, just the way he liked it; your weight ever grounding as you slept soundly and peacefully on his chest. All of it just drove him positively crazy. In the best way, of course.

You were laying in bed, blanket pulled to your chin with your hair splayed behind you like a halo. He had stayed up with Wars, Time and Twilight doing some strategy run throughs and he had sent you to bed a while ago. He was glad to see you so relaxed. You didn't deserve the stress this life brought. You deserved so much better. So much more than what that disgrace of a stand-in gave you in your life.

The though of Hylia and the hand she dealt you made him snarl to himself before it was falling into a soft, serene smile at a small sound you made. He stripped out of his outer tunic and armor, into his undershirt and a soft pair of shorts before climbing in next to you. You perfect features scrunched gently at the intrusion of the cold air when he opened your nest of blankets, which he quickly soothed with a gently brush along your cheek. He settled right beside you, only for his breath to catch in his throat at the sight of your dazzling eyes peeking open and staring at him.

He swallowed at the sight of your precious bedhead and positively adorable, sleepy, little pout. "Did I wake you?"

You gently shook your head, moving to burrow into his chest. Your hands grasped at his tunic as you took a dep inhale before relaxing against him. "No."

Thank the golden three.

"Why are you awake, my jewel?" He gently asked, brushing through your hair. You moved a bit before sitting up just enough to stare down at him, brushing his bangs (Which now hung freely without his hair band holding them back) behind his ears. Your touch was every bit electrifying as it was soothing.

"Couldn't sleep." You couldn't sleep? Now that just wouldn't do. What did he need to do to sooth your aches? Your fears and your anxieties? Anything, you just need to tell him.

"Something keeping you up?"

You moved again. Only this time, you gently moved one of your lean legs over his hips, settling it on the other side of his hips as you straddled him. Your hands laid on his chest, fingers splayed across his pecs as one of the straps of the tank top you wore to bed slid down your shoulder.

He swallowed harshly, face lighting up in a pure crimson. Not that you could see in the limited light. He could see you though. Nothing but drowsy lust and fatigued seduction as the moonlight highlighted your very being.

He almost feared he was dreaming again.

He didn't even know what to do with his hands at this point, holding them uselessly just over your thighs.

Then you nodded, one hand moving to the hem of your shirt, disappearing under the fabric that hid your core from him. He sucked in a harsh breath when your forearm caught the fabric, raising it with your movements as your fingers gently flossed between your labia lips. You weren't wearing any bottoms, at all, and your fingers shined in the limited light.

He swallowed again, aching to replace your fingers with his own, hell even with his face, but his brain had short circuited. Fried. Crashed. Those braincells just flew straight out the window as he practically drooled at the image over top of him. His hips bucked minutely before he righted himself.

"You could say that." You hummed, head rolling back as your fingers moved to circle your clit before pulling away as your shirt fell back. The hand that remained on his chest moved to settle right beside his head, handling your weight as you gently pulled the band of his pants down just enough for his cock to bounce out. It dripped onto his stomach, eagerly awaiting attention as his breath caught.

You licked your lips, settling back onto his thighs as your deft fingers wrapped around him. He hissed at the sensation, bucking into your palm. You lips upturned into a devious smirk, gently tightening your grip before you began to pick up a steady rhythm. He groaned, ears pinning to his head as every nerve jolted in excitement.

The adrenaline seemed to kickstart his brain again as one of his hands landed on one of your thighs, the other creeping up to your naval. Your movements halted for a fraction of a second. He took the initiative, fingers copying your earlier movements.

Your entire body shivered above him, but you continued your pace, dragging up and down deliciously. Even as his thumb padded in a steady circle around your clit, you remained so. Until he angled his hand to prod his middle finger against your opening. You shuddered once more, only this time you let out a harmonious whine, back arching into him. "Goddess, Four-" You gently gasped, speed picking up. Your thumb gently circled the head of his cock before swiping over the top of it, smoothing pre-cum up and down his shaft to ease the motions. He whined and withered underneath of you, easing a second finger into your cunt. Your own slick dripped down his fingers and onto his palms as your own noises echoed out, ringing in his ears like a symphony.

At some point your eyes had closed, but when he looked up, they were open and looking right at him as you slowly moved to lean on his chest. His fingers never stopped, matching your own bobbing hand. "You are so gorgeous, Link."

He keened, something high and pretty, as pure euphoria ran through his veins in a hot flash. It was too quick and too unpredictable for him to mitigate, a moan leaving his lips as hot white streaks painted both his torso and your own. His fingers never stopped though and it seemed his own wonton noises sent you over as you shook and twitched above him. Your breaths came in hot pants against his cheeks as he felt like his entire soul just ascended. The only reminder that this was real and that just happened being the mixed fluids cooling on his chest.

Maybe this was why you didn't mind sharing a room with him.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #lu four #Yandere four #Yandere four x reader #Yandere lu four x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere loz x reader #four x reader #lu four x reader #link x reader #yandere link x reader #Cindersins

[angelltheninth]

Arcane Men + Morning Wood

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Silco, Vander, Ekko, Marcus, Finn x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, morning wood, awkward boners, grinding, blowjob, naked cuddling, handjob, cold showers, teasing, coming in pants, dirty talk, praise, degradation

A/N: Don't you just hate it when this awkward problem happens and there's no one to help you? Well these men don't lmao.

Viktor grinds on you quite often so it's not surprising that he'd get a boner early in the morning. Normally it would be taken care of before you even woke up but well, even he can oversleep at times.

He thought he was having a really nice dream when he first opened his eyes and was met with the sight of your hand pumping his cock up and down. He treated it like he would any other wet dream too, until he realized that it was real and was then flustered but past the point of stopping because his cock was already painfully throbbing in your hand.

"Go faster darling, you know how I like it. I never tire of seeing my cock in your hand, feels so much better then my own, softer too. And this early in the morning as well, I'm a very lucky man. I've had this dream many times before now but this time it's... it's not a dream? Oh! I... I do have dreams like this yes, naturally but I never brought it up because... alright, alright, I get it, I'll shut up and enjoy the show."

Jayce likes to sleep with you on top of him so you can imagine the embarrassment when he wakes up with his hard cock poking at you and a stain already forming at the front.

He asks you to forget about it, he'll take care of it, you're gonna be late for work anyway, and there's no time for... and you're already taking his boxers of and licking his cock. His face has an expression of awe, all this time he thought he'd already seen the most beautiful sights in the world, now he has another one to add: looking down at you with your mouth full of his cock, the early morning ray's shining down on you like a halo. Breathtaking.

"Babe... I can explain... well actually I can't. Uhm, it just kinda happens sometimes you know. What am I saying of course you know! Fuck, look forget about it let's just go, we'll be late. You can make it quick? What do you mean by that? Right now? Of course I wanna! How-how quick can you make it?"

Silco usually wakes up early waits until it goes away, there's no reason to wake you up too just because he's a little excited. Very excited but still.

He wasn't gonna deny that he's horny when you did notice it, you already know the effect you have on him. When you offered a blowjob at first he was hesitant because he wanted to return the favor. The moment your lips touched the tip of his cock his arguments faded away, his hand on the back of your head to guide your pace. He was never good at denying you.

"I want to take care of you too darling. Surely you're not saying no to that now, you were screaming last night. You... ah... that is... a good argument. Slower, take it in deeper. Good work. This is why you're my partner. That talented mouth can make anyone do anything you want them too. Of course, you only do this for me, I'll repay you later just you wait."

Vander can hardly keep down his grunts and growls as he tosses the covers off and sees you practically choking on his cock first thing in the morning.

Don't get him wrong he's grateful for that you're taking care of him but he wasn't aware that he was going at you that roughly even in his sleep. He can go slower if you... oh you want it harder? Yeah? Well don't blame him for your sore throat then. He won't neglect you either, as soon as you're done with him he'll push you down on his cock and fuck you, even if he's half hard it doesn't take much for him to be fully erect when you're concirned.

"You should have said something darlin. I'm sorry I didn't notice, I was dreamin you see. It was a wonderful dream. Not as good as the real thing though. I'll always prefer the real thing. You will too? You dirty girl, of course you will. Harder? I can but are you sure? Alright, but you will be sore after. Small price to pay? I love when you get all slutty on me like this."

Ekko is a little bit embarrassed, your relationship still new after all and he doesn't want to give you the impression that sex is all he thinks about when he's with you.

Cuddles are some of his favorite things in the world, especially early in the morning and well, he likes to take all the clothes off for it too. He's hesitant due to him having a hard on, damn did he have nothing to worry about, you're fucking soaked just from the sight of him like that. His cock is hot and throbbing between your pussy lips as you grind against him, urging him to come.

"Not gonna lie to you Firefly, this is a little embarrassing for me. I can go take care of this real fast yeah? No? Heh, wanna give me a hand then? Or maybe more than your hand. Wait... really? Fuck, already so wet, I'm guessing you had some nice dreams too. Let me make them come true."

Marcus usually takes a long cold shower to take care of himself in the morning. He's very good at waking up before you so he can come back into bed and have a few more minutes with you.

He was really surprised when he came back to bed and you were already awake, not only that but also opening your legs for him to come closer. You're gonna have to make it fast, he's still a little cold but you'll warm him right up, his whole body, his heart as well as his cock.

"What are you doing up already sweetheart? Did I leave the door open when I took a shower? I'm sorry I didn't notice. Do you want to cuddle a little before I leave for- you're naked? I just took a shower so I might feel a little cold. You think you can help me warm up again?"

Finn likes to stay inside of you, your pussy keeping his cock warm all night, so you always know when he's got morning wood. His hands always grab hold of your ass and pushes you against him.

The best way for him to start his day is by pounding your cunt open while you milk his cock dry. He'll never get tired of fucking you awake. If that could be what he does all day he wouldn't mind. Sadly he can't so he'll enjoy you whenever he has the time. Or maybe sometimes when is isn't supposed to. But hey, who's gonna stop the two of you from keeping your hands from each other?

"Still sleepy kitten? I can wake you up, you just stay there, I'll take care of you. You take such good care of my cock, I don't want anyone to say I'm not fucking you right back. There's that pretty expression, even this early you look so well fucked. You're getting my cock so wet like a good cockslut."

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane smut #viktor x reader #jayce x reader #silco x reader #vander x reader #ekko x reader #marcus x reader #finn x reader #viktor #jayce talis #jayce talis x reader #silco #vander #ekko #marcus #finn #league of leguends #league of legends x reader #league of legends smut #arcane headcanon #arcane imagines

[mrssylargray]

Pablo: This was last year, on my birthday, the last day of shooting for Season 2 of Halo. I convinced a very large portion of the crew that they should jump into the glacial lake we were shooting in front of, Lago Del Predil, to commemorate the end of our season. The water was around 5 degrees Celsius and it was not warm outside. It was a crazy thing to do and the fact that so many people decided to join me was emblematic of this whole experience. So much talent, will power and determination on display for the past few years. Ready for anything, except giving up. I'm so proud of everyone who contributed to this crazy journey and so grateful for your contribution. As they say, That's a wrap!!!🙏❤🙏

#pablo schreiber #halo series #halo season 2 #master chief

[tmnt-tychou]

All Hallows Eve

Meant to be Bayverse, but you could probably imagine its any of them.

Female Reader x All Four Turtles (Slightly Mikey x Reader)

All Hallows Eve

She was dressed as an angel, standing on a street corner looking lost. The white feathered wings with matching boots seemed to glow with a light all their own in the dark, tin-foil halo glittering above her head. She caught Michelangelo's attention with her costume, but he had no plan to approach her at first.

Halloween was the one day a year where he and his brothers could walk the streets in the open without people screaming for their lives. But it still came with its own caveats. They only went out at night and stayed away from any bright lights that could give people a clear look at their forms. And they could never stay in one place for too long. People would compliment their “costumes” in passing, but if they lingered, people would realize they were too big, too real to be costumes.

So even though they were out among the humans, they continued to live in the shadows like ninja, but enjoying the fanfare of a New York Halloween. It was the closest any of them could get to feeling like part of society and Michelangelo milked it for all he could. He kept moving through the neighborhood block parties, enjoying the costumes and partaking of the street food.

That was when Michelangelo saw her. She seemed to be looking for something, or she was lost. But he wasn't sure if he should approach. Not until she looked his way; looked right at him. Her eyes were big, haunting. And they drew him in like she needed him. He found himself walking out of the crowd toward her.

“Hey there, Angel,” he said, referring to her costume. “You okay?” He knew he was big, even for someone pretending to be in a costume. He tried to hunch, make himself smaller. Non-threatening to a woman being approached by a stranger.

She didn't seem to be bothered by his looks or his size. She almost seemed relieved someone had asked about her. “I...I think I'm a bit lost. I was trying to get to a party, but I don't know the city very well and...” she looked at her empty hands, “I've misplaced my phone so I don't have the address.”

“Well that's no good,” Michelangelo replied. “Can I help you find it? Do you remember the address?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I only moved to the city a few weeks ago. I don't know where anything is. I met some people who invited me to this party.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to stop herself from getting emotional. “I just wanted to make some friends here.”

Michelangelo knew better, but he spoke anyway. “I'll be your friend. My name's Mike. My brothers and I are just out enjoying the vibe. Do you want to hang with us for a bit? Then I can make sure you get home when you're ready. Uh...that is if you're okay kicking it with some strangers for a while.”

She smiled, grateful. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Are your brothers giant turtles, too?”

He laughed. “Yeah, we all decided to wear the same thing. Like a group costume.”

He didn't notice she mentioned nothing about costumes.

***********

“What I'm saying is the whole shtick of The Addams Family is that they're weirdos,” Donatello said as he chewed on a caramel apple slice. “They're different than anybody else. But when you put her in a boarding school where everyone is weirdos—supernatural creatures—you're throwing the whole gimmick of the franchise out the window. The story would have worked better if the school was full of normal people. And she would have been the only one able to solve the murder mystery because only she would have suspected a supernatural killer.”

Raphael picked up his forth taco of the night. For a mutant his size, they were hardly a mouthful. But damn, they were so good. “I dunno about any of that, Don. But if you didn't like 'Wednesday', you don't have to keep watching it.”

“Yo, broooos!” Michelangelo called from below. “Come meet our new friend.”

The three other turtles looked down from where they sat on various levels of a metal fire escape. Each had been enjoying the food they collected from the street party, but had ultimately decided to eat in private and watch the people from the alley where they hid.

Leonardo, who was perched just a little higher than Raphael, leaned down so his face was more to his level. “Does Mike have a human with him?”

Raphael sighed. “Looks like. He's always been a sucker for a pretty face. Especially one that will say two words to him. Any two words. Even if it's 'fuck off.'”

Leonardo smirked and then gripped the railing. “Well, let's go meet Mike's new friend and hopefully that will be that.” But he wasn't thinking. He just hopped over the rail and landed two stories down like it was nothing.

Even Michelangelo was silently motioning for him to cut it on the ninja stuff as the two remaining brothers climbed down like normal people.

“So these are my brothers: Don, Raph, and Leo,” Michelangelo introduced. “And this beautiful angel is uh...” He looked helplessly to the human woman.

“Angel works,” she smiled back. “Hi.”

They all smiled back at her, a little awkward and a little clueless on what to do with her.

“Angel got lost trying to get to a party,” Michelangelo continued. “She's new in town and doesn't know the city too well. I thought we could hang out with her for a while and then make sure she gets home safe. What do you guys think?”

The brothers looked at each other and wordlessly agreed. How could they turn down anyone needing a safe chaperon for the night?

“You hungry, Angel?” Raphael asked.

“I could eat.” Her shrug made her cute little wings flap slightly and all four turtles went a little soft for her. She was a woman their age and she looked at them without fear. Like they were her peers. Like they were normal. How could they not go a little soft for that?

As the bottomless pits they were, the turtles didn't mind buying more food for themselves as well. They were happy to purchase anything Angel wanted while they were at it. At first, they wanted to make it quick. They knew lingering out among the humans for too long would give them away. But this time, something amazing happened.

Angel happened. All it took was one person to be with them. To talk with them like they were normal people and that strange bridge between human and mutant was built. With Angel near them, no matter how much their size crept into the uncanny valley for the masses, they were normal. Other people partying on the street didn't stare at them and quickly walk away anymore. A few people even stopped to compliment them on their costumes or even ask how they were made.

Raphael usually answered with random comments like “animatronics and rubber suits” or “it's CGI” and people would walk off confused. But not scared, and that was the important part.

As Leonardo ordered a basket of fries at a food truck to share with their new friend, he heard her talking to Donatello.

“Right?” she was saying. “This boarding school wasn't even really Addams Family core either. It was like...slightly spookier Hogwarts. Slightly. Fucking Harry Potter. Now everything has to be at a school.”

“I see you both have some strong feelings about a TV show,” Leonardo joked as he approached them. He offered Angel the warm fries in his hand. He thought she would take the whole basket, it was mostly meant for her. But she only took a few.

“For the most part, I was pretty on board with the whole show,” she continued. “But when Wednesday was stabbed, that was...jarring. Usually the family is portrayed as either liking pain, or they are somewhat impervious to injury. Maybe a bit of both. You never really know for sure. There's almost an immortal feel to them. There's just too many stories today that should have been original projects, but they keep being tacked onto existing franchises, but they don't have any respect for the lore.”

“Exactly!” Donatello agreed. He also grabbed a few fries and put them in his mouth. “The show and the story weren't bad per se, but it's not really an Addams Family story, so it wasn't as satisfying for fans as it could have been with a few tweaks.”

“God, are you still dragging that show?” Michelangelo sighed. “Angel, come dance with me. Let's enjoy this party while we can.”

He grabbed her hand, so small and delicate in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the thick of the crowd. The Monster Mash was playing over the speakers, a DJ at the stage in the front. The two found themselves a space to boogie and went about shaking their asses, just another normal pair in the sea of costumed party-goers.

“So what made you move to New York?” Michelangelo asked.

“Just trying some place new,” Angel replied. “Got tired of the little podunk town I came from. Not a lot of work there. Was hoping to find more opportunities out here. Maybe get some schooling in. What about you? How long have you been in the NYC?”

“All my life. Was born here. Might even die here. Big fan of the Big Apple.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do with yourself here?”

“Uh...” He paused for a bit, brain trying to come up with a reasonable response. No one had ever asked him his occupation before. “I work with the city in kind of a...crime watch capacity. Trying to clean the crime off the streets, make neighborhoods safer. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, like with the police?”

“I mean...we work with the police sometimes but what we do is more like...a neighborhood watch situation but on a larger scale.”

“Does that pay anything?”

“Uh, not really. It's more of a non-profit type organization. Donnie's the one that makes all the money. He's into tech and sells patents and stuff. He sort of bankrolls us so we can keep going.”

“Oh wow, that's a really noble goal. Though how to do watch the neighborhood on nights that aren't Halloween? With you guys being big turtles and all?”

At first, Michelangelo thought she was joking. “Heh, what?”

“You know, you guys are big turtles. How do you get around the other days of the week if you look after the neighborhoods? You can't convince people these are costumes forever.”

It was such a jarring revelation that Michelangelo's brain shut down, and then immediately went into panic mode. He picked her up under his arm like she was a plank of wood and fled the open area. He slipped through the crowds of people with an uncanny ease for his size and then continued to run past where his brothers were standing.

“Mike!” Raphael called after him.

When that didn't even slow his brother down, the three followed after him into a small, dead-end alley that was poorly-lit and would have very little visibility from the street.

“What?” Leonardo asked as they caught up with him. “What happened?”

By then, Michelangelo had set Angel back on her feet and then chewed nervously on his nail. “She knows!” he hissed, as if he were trying to keep it a secret from those who may be nearby.

“She...knows?” Raphael parroted, confused.

“That we're turtles.”

“Yeah, of course you're turtles,” she replied. She touched Michelangelo's arm and he visibly stiffened at her contact. “Clearly, these aren't costumes. I just think it's cool that you come out one night a year to hang out with people like this.”

“Uh...we actually come out a lot...just not...you know, street level,” Michelangelo replied.

“You mean you...” she pointed to the rooftops. “Is that where you live?”

“No, but it's how we usually get around.”

“Oooh! Like Batman!”

“Right! Yes! Like Batman!” Raphael agreed with excitement.

“Okay, okay, lets calm down,” Leonardo said. “This is a lot to take in all at once. You realized we weren't in costume and you didn't really say anything?”

Angel shrugged. “Hey, you guys were nice to me and you weren't trying to like get me alone in a dark alley or anything. Uh...except for right now. But you guys seem safe. What do I care what you look like? There's not many nice people in this city.

“I thought I would at least be meeting some fun strangers for a night and have the best Halloween. And maybe I would see you guys again, or maybe you were something magical that only happened on All Hallows Eve. Either way, it would be a good memory.”

She looked at the brothers who all had various bewildered looks on their faces. This person, she was someone special. Someone interesting. Someone who rolled with the weird and uncanny. Someone they could possibly make friends with. It had been years since they had dared to bring a new person into their world.

“So...what do you want to do now?” Donatello asked.

“I liked what we were doing,” Angel replied. “Let's keep hanging out. Eat good food, dance to music, talk to each other. And maybe I'll see you again after this?”

The brothers all looked at each other and smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Raphael agreed while Michelangelo nodded excitedly.

“If you're okay with the turtle thing, we're definitely hanging out again.” Michelangelo offered his arm and she took it.

They went back to the block party. They danced and joked. They enjoyed the music, the food, the costumes. The turtles were brighter now. Not so guarded, not so careful or suspicious of the people around them. It had been a long time since anyone new had appeared into their close circle of people they trusted. This was the first one who was their own age. She had seen them and accepted them on sight. This knowledge came with a bit of a happy high for the turtles. A burst of hope and joy at being discovered and immediately accepted without even a demand for an explanation.

And they wanted her to know. They wanted her to see their world. After this night of costumes, they planned to see her again, to show her and share what they were with her. It had been a good Halloween night.

“It's getting late and it's getting cold,” Leonardo eventually announced. “Angel, can we help you get home?”

“If you could walk me to my car?” she replied. “I parked a few blocks away.”

She nodded in the direction they needed to go and Leonardo hovered a hand over the small of her back to guide her.

“It's our pleasure.”

“You think your phone is in the car somewhere?” Michelangelo asked. “If you find it, we can trade numbers.”

“You guys have phones? Like normal phones?” she laughed.

“Of course,” Donatello said in a pragmatic tone. “Why wouldn't we?”

“Oh uh...I guess you could get phones if you really wanted them. Sorry, my bad. I guess you guys feel more magical than practical to me. Like you'll just poof away at the stroke of midnight. Knowing you have phones makes you feel a little more real.”

“Oh, we're real, Angel,” Raphael said with a flirty smile.

“And we'll be your friends if you want us to be,” Leonardo said softly. “We don't have many of those.”

“Neither do I,” Angel replied with the same soft tone. “I would really like that a lot.” They walked a few more feet and she pointed to the last building on the block. “My car is just around this corner.”

As they turned the corner, the turtles jumped back at the sudden red and blue flashing lights. Several police cars and one ambulance were clustered around the accident site of a two-car collision.

“Shit, Angel, I don't think we can walk you all the way to your car. But you should be hella safe with all the—” Michelangelo turned to the woman who had been standing right next to her. But in a blink, she was no longer there. “Angel?” He looked around, then looked at his brothers. “Dude, where'd she go?”

“She was...just right there,” Donatello said in confusion.

Leonardo peered around the corner to see if she had gone on ahead while Raphael looked behind them.

“I don't think she bailed. Where is she?”

Pressed to the side of the building, Leonardo audibly gasped. “I think...I see her.”

The others huddled around him to see what he was looking at. Out of one of the smoking cars, paramedics carried a female body dressed all in white, complete with halo and feathery white wings. White that was marred with smatterings of dark red blood. The body was set on a stretcher where the entire form was covered in a white sheet. No further first aid was administered to costumed angel as she was wheeled to the ambulance. That could only mean one thing.

“What? That...no, that can't...” Michelangelo struggled. “She was here with us all night. I touched her. I fucking picked her up in my arms!”

In his ear, he heard Donatello's ragged breathing, as if he were about to have a panic attack.

“Hey!” A police officer caught their shadows peering around the corner and they quickly ducked out of sight. When the human started toward their location, they quickly took to the rooftops in hopes of getting a better view. But by then, the body was already loaded into the ambulance to be taken away and Angel was nowhere else to be found.

***************

Her death didn't even make the news. What was one collision with a drunk driver with all the other crazy stuff that happened in New York on Halloween? And the turtles were never quite sure what happened that night; what they truly witnessed.

Only a few days into November, they all stopped talking about it. Tried to pretend it didn't happen. And it worked for most of the year. But then...October rolled around again. And as Halloween drew closer, the brothers didn't generate their usual excitement for their one holiday a year when they could go out on the street among the citizens. They still didn't talk about it. And when the night came, there was a certain unspoken trepidation in the air.

“You're not going out tonight?” Splinter asked them as they all brooded in the living room.

“Thinking about it, but...” Raphael trailed off.

“It just feels...weird,” Michelangelo added.

The other two brothers didn't say anything, but they seemed to agree with the sentiment.

“It is a shame your friend passed away after you had only known her for a while,” Splinter said. “But I don't think she would have liked that her memory tainted this holiday for you. You should be thankful you were able to have that time with her before she was gone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence from the turtles. As much as they tried to explain, Splinter never quite understood what they experienced. In his mind, they had met their friend during the party and then she had died in an accident on the way home after. All attempts to explain to the contrary resulted in failure.

“What if you went out just for a while to pay your respects? Perhaps find some closure,” Splinter then offered.

The brothers perked up a little and looked at each other. Something about that felt right.

**********

They went to the site of the crash, a year ago that day. They thought maybe anyone else might be there. Someone who missed her. Someone who felt the loss of her. Humans left flowers at sites like these on an anniversary like this, right? But there was nothing there. A year later, no evidence that the incident ever happened. The only proof that a life was lost here was that several of the road's street lights had been fixed. The collision had been largely blamed on most of the street lights being in disrepair at the time, even though one of the drivers had been drunk.

The turtles stood beside the street, out of the direct glow of the repaired street lights.

“So...do we say something or...?” Donatello asked softly.

“I dunno, we hardly knew her,” Raphael responded.

“Say something if you feel like it,” Leonardo offered.

They were all quiet for a moment, then Michelangelo spoke. “Well, Dudette, you seemed to be a super awesome chick. Too bad we didn't get a chance to see how awesome you really were.”

“A true tragedy,” Donatello agreed.

They stood for a while more and then turned to leave. The music and noise from the block party near by reached them before they could remove the nearest manhole cover.

“You guys wanna pick up some food before we head home?” Michelangelo suggested. “Grab something for Splinter too? See a few costumes, listen to some music before we go?”

The season called to them. It always did. The one festival a year about darkness and masked faces. Spooky fun and all sorts of delicious food. They had to be a part of it, just for a while.

The brothers split up, aiming for their favorite vendors. It wasn't like the year before, where they had a human friend hanging out with them, making them look normal. Now it was back to sticking to the shadows. Darting in and out to get what they were after and then sneaking back to the allies so no one stared at them for too long, lest they be figured out.

Michelangelo meant to grab some caramel apples for himself and one for Splinter, but the music and the atmosphere of the party caught his attention. He still wished to be in the middle of it. Talking with people, laughing, feeling like one of them. Even on this day of magic, he could only exist on the outskirts.

And then...something caught his eye. A woman dressed all in white. A little glittery halo and white, feathery wings. His breath caught in his chest. She turned, as if sensing his eyes on her. Angel looked right at him and smiled.

Happy Halloween

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren @thepinkpanther83 @yorshie @yamanekomono @androidships007 @raphsmuneca @igotlostinthesewers @silversunskyless

#tmnt #ninja turtles #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2016 #halloween

[kazimakuwabara]

for @sanusoweek

Part 5:

"Usopp-Usopp you need to leave my room!" Sanji hissed, trying to put some space between him and the freshly washed man. "Go back to your room."

"What's wrong?" Usopp asked, breathless no doubt from the fierce kiss Sanji had just pressed into his mouth.

"Usopp... It's been a long time since I've eaten and that's my mistake. We've been busier..." Sanji growled and slapped his hands against his chest, "Usopp! I'm a succubus okay? I eat sex and desire, and right now... you look like my favorite flavor. I'm not going to jump you, so you better-"

"Why not?" Usopp asked quietly, his face flushed.

Sanji felt a warmth blossom in his chest and spread all the way down to his abdomen.

"What?"

Usopp flushed more, his halo flickering a little, and the greenery in his hair growing flowers, and berries. "I know what a succubus is, Sanji. And... and I like you. I don't mind feeding you."

"Usopp... Usopp... don't say that," Sanji groaned.

Usopp made an affronted face, his eyelashes filling with tears, "What? Is it a problem that I like you? Do I disgust you that much-"

Sanji's heart seized at the sound of hurt in Usopp's voice, and in the throws of his hunger, desires, and the tears in Usopp's eyes, Sanji couldn't lie anymore. He rushed to Usopp and cupped his face. Usopp looked at him with wide-eyed hopeful surprise, and Sanji kissed his brow and rasped, "No. No, you don't disgust me... it's not that."

"S...Sanji..."

Sanji nuzzled against Usopp's face, his fresh green scent washing over him like freshly picked ingredients. Basil. Lemongrass. Mint. Citrus. Sanji purred as he nuzzled into Usopp's throat and sniffed him, his tail winding around Usopp's body and pulling him close.

"Sanji... you don't hate me?"

"Far from it..." Sanji groaned, resting his face against Usopp's throat, "Far from it. I was attracted to you from the moment we met at the market!"

"But I knocked you into persimmons!" Usopp sniffed.

Sanji laughed, snaking around Usopp's back, and whispered, "And you were so cute doing it too..." He molded himself against Usopp's back and rocked with Usopp until they were both facing the door. His treacherous tail kept trying to curl up the towel around Usopp's waist, and Usopp, whether he realized it or not, was just opening his legs for it.

"Usopp," Sanji groaned, "I want you. I want you because I want you, but also because I'm hungry... and that's not fair to you. You don't deserve to be my meal... I don't even deserve to have you as a lover, even if that's what I want! The door is right there. If you don't want this... Please. Push me away and walk through it."

Usopp considered Sanji's words for a quiet moment, and Sanji was grateful that Usopp was at least thinking about what to do. Because surely, Usopp needed to leave. Usopp would say that. An angel as beautiful as Usopp, as innocent as him, couldn't consider this. Wouldn't consider being with him. An angel and a devil... that was a thing that had never happened.

And then Usopp tilted his throat to the side, and whispered, "You drink blood too right? You can have a little."

"U-Usopp-"

"I'm trusting you to stop if I get scared... I can trust you... right?" Usopp asked his voice dropping to an unexpectedly sultry tone, and then he rocked his backside against Sanji's very aching, and very hot groin.

"Usopp!" Sanji choked, gripping the man tight.

"Sanji," Usopp pleaded.

And then Sanji sank his teeth into Usopp's throat, and the angel's white blood poured out, shining like liquid diamonds down his skin. Strange... Sanji had never seen an angel with white blood before. Only Gold. But he could not focus there, his ears picking up on a delightful moaning sound that Usopp was trying to keep pressed behind his lips, and his tongue tingling with the delicious flavor, that was Usopp.

"Usopp... Usopp don't be quiet..." Sanji groaned, lapping at the wound he'd created on Usopp's neck. He growled as he found a new patch of skin, "I want to hear you." And then he bit him again.

Usopp threw back his head, and let out the softest whine. Sanji would have to teach him how to be loud; how to let out those delicious cries, and Sanji would teach him.

Sanji's tenacious tail yanked Usopp's towel away, and Usopp shrieked a little jumping instinctively to hide himself. Sanji bit down on Usopp harder, warning him as he reached down to fondle Usopp's exposed cock. He threaded the rising member through his fingers, tasting his weight, length, and girth. It was already growing so heavy with Usopp's arousal. Sanji pulled away from Usopp's addictive blood, and lapped over the dripping wounds before he purred, "Good... good... you're excited."

"Sanji!"

Sanji stroked Usopp with his hand, sliding his chin over Usopp's shoulder so he could watch the angel helplessly thrust his cock through Sanji's grip. He could smell that Usopp was untouched. He wondered if Angels ever even thought to have sex on their own... those creatures were so pure, perhaps they didn't. He stroked Usopp in long slow pulls, smiling as he watched his angel-his very soon-thrust into his fist.

"You like this..." Sanji purred.

"Of course!" Usopp gasped, grinding his ass against Sanji's tented pants, "Of course I do! It's you!"

Sanji turned Usopp, his hands curled around his wrists, and he kissed the angel fiercely, his tongue claiming the innocent's mouth.

Usopp moaned, and struggled, trying to pull his hands free so that he could perhaps cup Sanji's face, or hug him, but Sanji was burning too hot to release Usopp now. Sanji supped from Usopp's mouth, quenching his thirst with each sweet breath, each soft sound, and Usopp's soft tongue. Sanji yanked and pulled his angel to the corner of his room, where his bed awaited them, and shoved him down, Usopp gasping as he fell to the bed.

Sanji leered down at the angel, his cock rigid and flushed. Sanji locked eyes with Usopp, seeing nothing but desire, want, and some soft affection that Sanji wanted for himself, had always wanted. He feared it, just a little now. For if Usopp loved him, then he would be giving Sanji everything he had ever wanted... and he wanted it so much. With jerky hands, he worked on the buttons of his trousers and smiled at Usopp's eyes that fell to Sanji's crotch.

"Salacious..." Sanji purred.

Usopp bit his lower lip and smiled.

Usopp's smile would undo Sanji.

#sanuso #sanji x Usopp #sanji #usopp #queue yu hakusho #doodle #kazi fanfic

[muzzleroars]

hmmhmfsgh I love all your work so much, your concepts for the lore of Ultrakill are so interesting, and I wanna eat your art style it's so good

I have a question regarding Lucifer: after everything has calmed down with all the archangels, would it be possible for him to be freed? If they realized he was put away unjustly, could Michael unbind him? Are the chains unbreakable, or would Michael be too afraid/stubborn to go back on the decision?

aaaa thank you!! and i'm so glad i get the chance to talk about this...because i think this is ultimately how michael's redemption arc would have to end and how he could be released from the guilt he's carried all this time. it would come when michael has recalled his mercy, when he is at ease with gabriel's position in hell and has more or less taken up his role as prince of heaven to help what remains of his citizens rather than continue attempting to condemn hell and its sinners (including a very important apology to the ferryman). gabriel would know the time is right to show him to that testament, to reveal to him god's own shame at casting lucifer out and all the lies they must have been told since - he shows it to all the archangels, but it is michael's decision which matters the most. and i think, in feeling that ugly remorse he's carried for eons finally fall on his head, he would make the determination that lucifer's imprisonment is unjust. he must be released...the decision, however, is met with immediate opposition.

gabriel is the least opposed, though he believes in taking this much more methodically and being sure he and v1 aren't left with what might be a bigger problem than they can handle. raphael is outright against it, stating that lucifer is surely far too much now warped by hell to be trustworthy, even if he agrees the original binding was wrong. uriel supports his points, going further to put forth the idea that lucifer may not even be himself by now, instead more an avatar of hell instead given how it's connected to him so thoroughly. michael is staunch in his stance, however, impressing upon them the utter depravity of any decision other than freeing him as soon as possible - he was innocent, and he's endured unending torture trapped in a pit devoid of god's light. regardless of his state, keeping him chained now would be the most hideous act of cruelty heaven could carry out. unfortunately, they can reach no conclusion with raphael and uriel unswayed and gabriel not entirely agreeing with michael's admittedly emotional plan. so they end the discussion at odds, but that hardly matters to michael. he will go with or without their help.

v2 knows this almost immediately, when he comes to see it afterward. didn't go his way, it can tell. but v2 lets him know that hardly matters as it knows what he's thinking now too, and it will join him whenever he's ready. michael of course tries to insist it's unnecessary, but v2 counters that it's not all about him - lucifer is serving out a sentence that should never have been passed, and v2's nature can't abide by that. they will do what's right, even if it's so late, and v2 is proud of him. michael, in return, is greatly humbled and infinitely grateful toward v2 once more, like he has been several times now when it's saved him, yet v2 tells him he'll have to save any praise until they're done. they're both well aware of what they're about to do in the silent pause that follows, but michael leads them on when the moment has passed and he prepares to undertake his final penance. the one he's always been waiting on.

freeing lucifer proves to be just as brutal as he always thought it would have to be. satan in its suffering form, bound up into a dragon that wears his halo skewed and nailed to its face, bodies of angels twisted up into a hard carapace covered in scales of a thousand faces crying out to him. its belly cut open, pouring forth the flayed and decayed corpses of those that were lucky enough not to survive their fall, while michael's own spear pins lucifer to its chest. and hell itself growing onto and into them all, burrowing under shattered wings and into its grotesque frame, with lucifer now seemingly unable to hear michael. whatever it is fights autonomously against them, instinct ruled by agony and lashing out against anything that dare come near it. with each chain michael severs, it grows more wild, encased in ice that begins to crack with deep, resounding shockwaves that carry through all of hell. it alerts gabriel and v1, who move together without a word straight to treachery (gabriel knew this would be the outcome, so they're relatively prepared) and do what they can to support michael and v2. as more chains fall, raphael and uriel appear to plead with michael to stop, yet they too protect him in what ways they can even though he refuses to heed them. he hears nothing but the pain of the monstrosity before him, his own dead body numb to all the damage it does, yet able to feel it in white hot phantoms. he could be torn apart and he would never cease, he is already a corpse anyway. and when he has done away with all the chains, those that could only be unbound by his will, he finally pulls the central spear from its heart...and the beast collapses in a great flood of blood and cinder.

from without, a great sigh of relief rushes over them all, so many of the angels that had been held in that form dying instantly upon its release, and they are glad of it (there is the briefest, faintest sound of a hymn of many voices long since forgotten) stronger angels scatter almost as quickly, unused to a free form and so taken by it immediately to follow the howling winds of hell. only lucifer remains, hands buried in the ash around him and so very aware of every life lost, a name for each voice that only he now knows. only michael goes to him with weapons tossed aside, calling out to him finally once more by his own name that he has long forgotten. yet still, michael, he knows. michael has come and the world must have ended. this is his time, this is their revelation, and lucifer stands on the ashes of all the angels he led to death. he asks to be struck down just as michael reaches him. no more. no eternity of torment. no lake of fire. free him as he has all these other souls, and free the ones that escaped - they know not how they run, they mean no offense. they will surrender to michael as he does now, so long as he destroys them entirely. please. they have sinned and done wrong, now let it end and have your kingdom of peace. let the world be free of suffering within and without. let it be perfect.

it is unthinkable, unknowable, when michael finally speaks after being stricken so still and silent, when he tells lucifer there is no battle, that he came only to free him. not for a thousand years to reign on earth, but for whatever they have left. he is sorry he couldn't save all of them, he is sorry he has come so late, he is sorry his spear ever pierced into lucifer's side and drew the first blood of god's creation. he is sorry he comes to him like this, michael already dead and lucifer a burned out husk in the blood of all those that should still be in paradise. lucifer doesn't seem to take in what he says, or, more likely, he can't, and so only continues to repeat his request, asking michael to at least kill the rest of them. even if lucifer must be left to suffer forever, let it be in solitude. michael only reaches him once he admits god's death, that everything done now is his own will and he releases lucifer from this place...a ringing silence, the whole of hell letting out a long groan. lucifer is what remains of him now, god's own fire still lifting to the dead air in sparks from his charred body. and he screams terribly, millennia of grief, of anger, of deepest hatred, tearing through the halls of hell as his fire lights briefly once more to illuminate a brutally dark, brutally cold cavern to see god's light for the first time. it can't last long, he can't bear it anymore, and he has much more to do if that hatred can no longer find a place. let lucifer bury his dead, let him divide out these ashes into all the angels he once knew even if it takes him one thousand years to make every grave. let him find those that ran, even if they have reached the four corners of the world by now, to offer his apologies for what he did to them. let him seek out the few left of the damned so they know how he regrets bringing sin into the world. let him be sure this can exist as a place where the love of god will never be known, let his own name be forgotten in every soul that managed to survive his tyranny.

THIS IS VERY LONG....but essentially, at least starting out, lucifer needs to actually largely be left alone. he is relatively unresponsive to outsiders, gabriel the only one of the group that can engage him at all in the beginning, and he is more often heard singing in hymns none of them can understand. he travels through all of hell, though he seems increasingly uneasy the higher he climbs and often returns to his place in treachery by his own accord. far from being the ultimate presence of evil they came to believe he was, lucifer is clearly a being broken, a being that's forgotten all his joy, all his memories of heaven, instead locked into mourning. raphael and uriel in particular feel great guilt over disputing his freedom, seeing how he buries each angel he lost, how he preserves their names and relates, to no one, their whole lives in heaven before they came here. he tells of the work they did, of the happiness they made, he eulogizes each of them in words that must have run through his head countless times, words he never thought he'd get the chance to speak. he needs a true grieving period before any significant progress can be made with him, yet there are always sparks of the old lucifer. something is lighter in him seeing the damned minos cares for, actually able to see the city they built here. he rejoices, in quiet, muted ways with each fallen angel he retrieves, and he wishes to make hell a place they can all share in with him. even hell itself. it has suffered too, after all.

#NOVEL LENGTH ANSWER....you can tell it's been on my mind!!! #they do begin to be able to speak with him #and he's very....changeable emotionally #because lucifer is deeply conflicted over their role in his fall #he blames god before anyone and a big part of him knows they had to do what they did for their safety #he knows they were lied to. crushed beneath god's will and tethered in their own way #but lucifer is deeply achingly angry for what he and all the rest of his angels went through #and god died without him. like a coward. #so they are all that's left to take his pain #cake answers #lucifer #michael #rise and fall au

[pleasuretrade]

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

-

 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

-

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

-

 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

#the nice guys #the nice guys fanfiction #march x healy #healy x march #nice guys #holland march #jackson healy

[helix-studios117]

Halo Reloaded: Advice

In the quiet corridors of the Autumn 2.0, the air was thick with anticipation as John-117 made his way toward Naomi-010's quarters. Unarmored for once, his towering figure moved with a deliberation uncharacteristic of the battlefield legend. He paused at Naomi's door, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before pressing the chime.Naomi, surprised by the unexpected visit, opened the door to find the Spartan-II she rarely saw out of his armor. Her blonde hair fell loosely around her shoulders, a stark contrast to the usual tight bun she sported under her helmet. "John?" she began, her tone a mix of curiosity and caution. "What brings you here?"

John's gaze lingered on her for a moment, the weight of his request making him momentarily hesitant. "I need advice," he finally said, his voice betraying none of the uncertainty that flickered behind his stoic expression.Naomi stepped aside to let him in, her expression puzzled. "Advice? From me?" she asked as she closed the door behind him. The very idea seemed to perplex her. "What about?"

"It's about Linda," John admitted, the name alone enough to convey the depth of his concern. "We...we're seeing each other. And I want to take her out, do something special for her."

Naomi raised an eyebrow, the pieces clicking into place. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder why John had come to her. "And you're asking me because...?"John shifted uncomfortably, the topic clearly out of his comfort zone. "Because of Vaz," he said, referring to Vasily "Vaz" Beloi, the ODST with whom Naomi had been in a relationship for several months. "I figured, since you're with someone outside the Spartan program, you might know a thing or two about...this."

Naomi's cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. It was rare for Spartans to discuss personal matters so openly, and John's acknowledgment of her relationship with Vaz felt both invasive and flattering. "John, I'm hardly an expert on romance," she confessed with a sheepish smile. "But if you're looking for advice, I'll share what I can."John nodded, grateful for any insight she could offer. Naomi took a moment to gather her thoughts, her advice more earnest than expert. "Well, for starters, it's important to remember it's not about where you go or what you do, but the thought behind it. Linda's not just any Spartan. Think about what she enjoys, what makes her happy. It could be something as simple as a quiet place to watch the stars, or maybe a live-fire training session if that's more her speed."

John listened intently, Naomi's words sparking ideas in his mind. "And," Naomi continued, "communication is key. Make sure she knows this is special, that it's about the two of you spending time together. It doesn't have to be grand, just...meaningful." The Chief nodded, his usual confidence returning. "Thank you, Naomi," he said sincerely. "I appreciate it, more than you know."Naomi smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Anytime, John."

As John turned to leave, a newfound resolve in his step, Naomi couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie that went beyond their shared duties. In the world of Spartans, where vulnerability was a luxury few could afford, moments of genuine human connection were rare and precious. John's visit, awkward as it might have been, was a reminder that beneath the armor and the accolades, they were all still human, still capable of love.

@ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @authortobenamedlater, @makowrites, @mrtobenamedlater, @killer-orca-cosplay, @empresskadia.

#halo #halo fanfic #halo fanfiction #master chief fanfiction #master chief #master chief fanfic #john 117 #vaz x naomi #john 117 x linda 058 #naomi 010 #linda 058 #halo au #halo headcanon #halo reloaded #ultimate universe

[thedragonagelesbian]

"You are wasting time."

The reminder comes as Yiseeril is soaring over the Lower City, shrouded in night and an invisibility spell. Her psionics part the world before her, allowing her to glide from rooftop to rooftop with but a thought, and when the wind is kissing her cheeks and rushing under her arms, she has mercifully few thoughts other than the exaltation of her body. No future, no past, just dancing under the stars, tracing the patterns of a dozen variant constellations whose names and stories and cultures are, like so many things, engraved into her synapses forever.

"On the contrary, my dear Astral-bound friend, I am savoring every second of it."

"We have all three Netherstones," the Emperor insists, "we've had them for weeks now. Every second spent dawdling gives the Elder Brain another chance to break loose."

Yiseeril lands on the roof of the Counting House and perches between the crenelations. She was here just hours ago with Astarion, cheering him on as he flitted between grates in his new misty form and popped each safe one by one. The wealth of the Lower City to line their pockets for however much longer such mundane concerns as 'wealth' would worry them, in exchange for one very cross mind flayer. A fair trade, no?

"I'm having fun."

"You will have considerably less fun if the Elder Brain overwhelms me and dominates you."

Yiseeril rolls her eyes, a gesture lost on most behind the feathers of her halo but received by her co-pilot. "It hasn't yet."

"It will," the Emperor snaps. "You tempt fate."

"Love, that's what you like best about me." Yiseeril grins as she senses the shift in the tenor of their psychic connection. Still annoyed, unequivocally, but that smug superiority becomes more frustrated, knowing that she's right. "You like zipping around in my pocket, seeing this world, this life, that Gortash and the Elder Brain took away from you. How many sunsets have you seen because of me?" The tether bristles, and she's quick to add, "And don't tell me you don't care, because I know just how terribly sentimental you are, Bal-dur-an."

She sings its old name, lilting and playful. Another detour, another distraction, but how utterly wonderful it was to turn every nook and cranny of this city over. The whole of the Lower City, a tapestry of hundreds of years of magic and secrecy to be unwoven, and Yiseeril oh so loves an unknown.

...At least, she used to.

It responds with a huff that fills her entire mind with hot air. "Yes, I have... attachments to my past selves, but that does not explain your sentimentality. The city will still be here after we defeat the Absolute. There will be time for your juvenile 'fun' later."

Yiseeril's stomach tightens, but she tries to hide it with a smile. "Oh, love, I never took you for a 'glass half full' kind of being. It's so sweet that you think I'll survive this."

"And it is strange that you, for all your bravado, do not."

Suddenly restless, Yiseeril alights from the Counting House roof and sails down to the street. Her feet touch the cobblestone for only a moment before she is in the air again, skipping faster now across the buildings. Away from the water.

"Oh, well, one of us has died much more recently than the other. You may recall it was precisely a penchant for overestimation that landed me in that particular position."

In fact, it had been a conflation of her most troublesome characteristics. Her curiosity to drive her to the Iron Throne. Her whimsy to skate its perimeter on a Potion of Speed, caring less for the hostages and more for the sense of the world warping around her. Her hubris to think she could linger long enough to destroy Gortash's toy before he could.

"And you were reborn more powerful for it."

Minthara said the same thing. The Emperor, the holder of her pact; Minthara, the holder of her oath, and whoever Yiseeril had been before, a bloated corpse floating in the harbor.

"And who's to say I won't be reborn again when we confront the Absolute?"

"Is that what you desire? Or why you have so adamantly delayed this confrontation?"

Yiseeril doesn't respond, not until she's hovering above the Stormshore Tabernacle. She descends so she can look through the stained glass window that frames its generic altar and the equally generic statue that presides over it. Perfectly nondescript down to the blank scroll in its hands.

Of course, the blank scroll is also the holy symbol of Oghma-- god of knowledge and the patron saint of bards.

Her violin still sits on the altar. Unclaimed.

Just as she had been. A partial illithid with a partial soul and only a partial afterlife awaiting her.

"Whatever becomes of you next," the Emperor almost sounds gentle, "it will be as sublime as what you have made of yourself with the tadpole."

"You have hit upon the precise issue of my concern, love, for I do not have to speculate as to what will become of me without the tadpole."

"What do you mean?"

She opens that part of her mind to him: the Ritual of the Passive Voice. Undertaken by the order of Oghmanyte monks who had raised her, it was supposed to transform her into a conduit for His vast knowledge. Too vast for her mundane mind and her mortal body, it rendered her an empty shell for years until a parasitic insertion and an opportunistic siphoning of Orpheus' protection had given her her mind back.

Astarion had ascended and would thus keep the autonomy that the tadpole had granted him. But her? Skull still inundated with more information than any humanoid--even a holy one--could handle?

There is the alternative, of course. The one that Minthara proposed astride Ketheric's throne with Yiseeril curled in her lap. To control a god is to become a god. To become a god is to never bow or fear or die again.

The Emperor can't know about that, though, for surely it, in all the fierceness of its independence, would object.

"I see. I have always sensed something else in your mind. It is for the best that I never pressed upon it and risked breaking the levee that the tadpole has offered you."

There's an inquisitive edge to the Emperor's thoughts, and Yiseeril seizes upon it. "You wouldn't happen to have any idea of what to do about that, would you, oh great cranial expert?"

A sound like a laugh reverberates along their connection. "I am more a master of devouring than of reconstruction... and yet..."

For a moment, Yiseeril sees a flash of something: a tadpole, suspended above the Emperor's hand, yet different from any other she has encountered. Even the Astral Tadpole had not looked like this. Swollen. Gorged. Like a fruit ripened to bursting, and Yiseeril's own tadpole writhes between her grey matter, eager to feast upon its knowledge.

She wonders--with a pang of irony too painful to linger upon--if this consumption too counts as worship, and in that moment of agony, the link breaks. The image vanishes. She is staring again at the marble statue of a god who had twice abandoned her.

"What was that?" she says aloud, a question searching for a direction, floundering in the night before she senses the Emperor once more.

"Inspiration."

#gods least favorite princess #no editing just vibes thinking about yiseeril dicking around for days/weeks after getting the netherstones #bc she doesn't want to face what's waiting for her in the morphic pool