#while viewing the only way to ensure that the destruction of others

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Never put a human in a zoo

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The sudden extinction of the Dre people was as sudden as it was unexpected to the galactic community. They were one of the oldest and most technologically advanced races in the universe. Heavily isolationist by nature, coupled with their inherent self-sense of superiority they viewed much of the other space faring species as little more than savages by comparison as none of them presented a credible challenge their rule. Yet within a month they had lost nearly 99% of their population across multiple worlds.

The worst hit was their homeworld of Belnuck situated at the heart of their empire which became an empty husk of a world seemingly overnight. Ancient and powerful cities of technological wonder now were little more than ghost towns to be picked clean by scavengers.

There were no signs of civil strife or unrest, no exterior threat from military forces, not even a record of natural disaster on their homeworld. Nothing was found that could give a clue as to what could have erased such a prominent power as the Dre, and so it was written off as a deadly unsolved mystery and the galactic community went on.

At least, that was what the public report stated.

It wasn’t until a group of Kreen scavengers came upon a set of personal journals that the shroud of uncertainty was lifted. Only to be then shortly locked away and sealed under the highest security restrictions to ensure the truth never saw the light of day.

These are those journal entries: ------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757931 Head curator Migu

The benefactors are requesting we add new exhibits to the zoo again.

I thought they would have been content with the Draxic specimens we captured last month but it seems the general public no longer find giant lizards fascinating to observe. One of them suggested we allow the Draxic to mingle with other exhibits for inter species interactions for potential science research; but I could tell right away that what they really wanted from this was to have guests pay to see those lizard savages rip apart our other attractions like a Frong in a Skitch field.

I wish they could at least try to hide their greediness behind some semblance of rationality. At least then it would be easier to stomach.

I’ve scheduled a discussion with our head capture specialists to go out and find new attractions for the people later today. I don’t have much hope they can find anything as fascinating to revive interest but one never knows. End Log Entry. ---------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757935 Head curator Migu

Capture team theta appears to have acquired something of value.

The specimens were caught will transitioning into real space at the edge of a system and were removed from their vessel shortly after.

Their technology was primitive in nature, but from the recordings the capture team sent back their esthetic design choices appear to be unique for such a low species. Accessing their data banks was a trivial matter and provided a wealth of history to them.

They appear to call themselves “Humons”, and have only recently begun intergalactic travel.

From the data we have gathered these humons are a highly warlike society repeating cycles of great conflict to great resurgence throughout their history. During war time they have fought with everything from sharpened wood stakes to low grade thermo nuclear devices.

While lacking the physical exciting traits like armored skin or shape shifting qualities, I believe their nature as a self-destructive race will make them a comedic addition to the zoo.

Theta team is on their way back now with them and I’ve already given instructions to create the new paddock for them in the east wing. With any luck the benefactors will find them as amusing as I do and calm down. End Log Entry. ------------------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-757940 Head curator Migu It could not have gone any better. The public loves the new attractions and the benefactors love the increase in profits. Theta team captured roughly a dozen of these humons and when coupled with their historical data we were able to depict several invigorating habitats. We injected them with the standard nano machines to provide feedback on each of them for both the caretakers and the guests. I do have some concerns about handing the medical needs of these humons as none of our handlers know how to treat them, but I have tasked them with dissecting the gathered data for any relevant medical information. They seem very energetic and many of them have not stopped trying to escape their exhibit since they woke up. A few of them have already begun crafting crude weapons to defend themselves while forming mini factions. The largest group has created a primitive wooden fortress by sharpening sticks and creating walls with them. The smaller group has kept their distance from the larger groups while the remaining few have decided to remain in isolation from both groups. Guests love it when they start banging on the windows and try to talk with them. The children in particular I overheard already picking out their favorites and rooting for them to survive should they begin fighting. We’ve not had this kind of engagement since we brought in Bengols with their psionic abilities. ------------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758021 Head curator Migu

It’s been several cycles since my last entry and we’ve had a few snags. Our lack of medical knowledge regarding our latest exhibits has proven costly. Despite our best efforts to decrypt the remaining data from their ships it appears medical information was damaged beyond recovery during the capture process. This has left us unable to properly care for them during medical emergencies; which have happened far sooner than expected.

After several days of captivity several of the humons began showing signs of rapidly deteriorating mental stability. They’ve displayed signs of paranoia, societal breakdown, and an increase in aggression levels to the point they murdered other humons in the enclosure.

We’ve never had this problem before with our other exhibits, at least within such a short timeframe, and now the benefactors are calling for my head. They are upset that their most prized money generators are murdering each other risking their profit margin.

I’ve suggested applying mild sedatives to calm them but was denied. They insist that curbing their more primitive tendencies would cause customers to lose interest in them.

The suggestion of capturing more of these humons was strongly advocated for but it was my turn to deny that request. Deploying a capture team was an expensive endeavor and if the humons continued killing each other the costs would overturn any increase in profits.

I’m putting together alternatives now for my next meeting with them. Hopefully something will come along and save our hides. ---------------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758043 Head curator Migu

The problem for the time being has resolved itself via an unexpected avenue.

One of the capture humons was seen treating the few remaining humans; providing basic medical treatment and care.

Ordinarily we would have written off such behavior but because of our current medical situation we decided to bend regulations and reach out to the subject directly.

A translator unit was acquired and we were able to speak directly with the humon. It took several minutes to calibrate, thankfully much of their speech was unrecognizable. They would not stop trying to speak with us while it was being adjusted and went on and on about wanting to be set free and demanding answers. Honestly you think these humons would be grateful that we are lowering ourselves to speak with them.

When they finally calmed down we explained the situation to them. In exchange for their cooperation they would be given special privileges to treats and comforts for the duration of their stay. They wanted to be let out and freed from the exhibit but I quickly shut that down as a non-starter.

It eventually dawned on them that this was going to be their new existence for the remainder of their life and could live in comfort or watch as their friends died one by one; and they accepted the offer. -------------------------

Personal Journal Entry J-758117 Head curator Migu

While unusual the negotiating tactic with the humon has resolved the issue for us and the benefactors are happy once more.

With the medical humons help they were able to stabilize the injured humons while also negotiate a form of agreement between the humon factions in the exhibit. They could still maim and injure each other while guests were present but would not kill and then would be treated afterwards before the next day’s opening.

Interestingly enough the medical humon has proved very useful. They’ve been able to communicate with the rest of the humons and get them to fall in line. What’s more they’ve been minimalistic in requests with the biggest being to be taught some of the basics of our medical equipment so he can use it himself.

Ordinarily we don’t allow this but it would have freed up some of the medical wing so we allowed it with extensive supervision.

I must admit I am rather proud of myself for resolving the situation, and with such little expenditure. Things now are running smoothly once more and the profits are seeing ever increasing margins. Maybe now the benefactors will get off my back. Though honestly I think it’ll only last one or two months before the humons are worn out and they want something new.

---------------------- Personal Journal Entry J-758135 Head curator Migu

Oh gods it burns!

Everyone at the zoo is screaming and clawing their own skin!

Gods damnit make it stop! MaKE IT Stop!!!!!!!!!!!

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

Emergency Transmission January 2873 Chief Medical Officer Maxwill Clemons

This is Chief Medical officer Maxwill Clemons of the ship “Hades Rest” calling out to any terran ships requesting immediate rescue.

I am not sure what planet or system we’re in, but hone in on this signal and you will find us. I will be repeating this message every hour on the hour for as long as this place has power.

I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been in this god forsaken hellhole. The automated day/night cycles have made my attempts at record keeping near impossible.

Maybe a month? Two? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.

We were kidnapped from our ship after exiting a jump and woke up to find ourselves in some sort of alien zoo. The aliens refused to speak to us at first, instead watching us from windows and laughing at us while we struggled to find out what was going on.

They’re all dead now. The aliens that is.

I never knew what they called themselves and I don’t really care.

They treated my friends like animals, so I took their precious tech and turned it on them. Made the nano machines they injected us with register the alien DNA as a deadly virus in need of immediate eradication.

First one I got was the one who was so smug about our capture and display. They changed their tune after I spat in their eye and their face started melting as the nano tech spread. Two others came in after the screaming started and they got infected as well before fleeing the room.

I stood up and went to my comrades “habitat’ and let them out as every alien around us began screaming and melting away. That was at least three days ago now and I haven’t seen one of them yet. Their whole planet now is like one massive ghost town.

We’ve enough provisions to last us and the other freed captives for some time, but please do hurry. I want off this fraking shit hole as soon as possible. --------------- Message repeats:

Emergency Transmission January 2873 Chief Medical Officer Maxwill Clemons

This is Chief Medical officer Maxwill Clemons of the ship “Hades Rest” calling out to any terran ships requesting immediate rescue. ------

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #ai generated art #stable diffusion

[darkwolf989]

Outside The Office Part Eleven

Hi all! Enjoy the latest chapter!

Several hours and at least one full video shoot later, I stood between Valentino and Velvette in the elevator as we descended towards Vox’s studio. Valentino had called her up to fix the mess that was my face as soon as he ensured I was physically and emotionally ready to go back out into the studio with him.  

To her credit, Velvette took the destruction of her hard work in stride, dabbing a different concoction of creams and powders on my face. The ibuprofen from the morning had long since worn off, and every inch of my body was back to aching. On the bright side, it hurt less than this earlier in the day, or even last night. Even Velvette commented that the remainder of the blues had turned green, and most of the greens turned yellow, causing her to use a whole different set of makeup. 

“You nervous, babe?” Velvette asked, arms crossed as we headed down. She tilted her head to one side and studied me. 

I shrugged, biting back the nerves that simmered inside my chest. “I mean. My father used to throw me in front of angry reporters and speak when he was too busy, or didn’t care to do it himself. So, how much worse could this be?”

Valentino set his jaw and Velvette scowled. I could have swore I heard her say fucked up angels, but I couldn’t be sure. The door opened and Valentino paused, kissing the top of my head so as to not mess with my makeup. 

“See you tonight, Princessa. Have fun.” He stepped back into the elevator and the door closed. 

I turned to Velvette, and followed her across the studio to Vox’s office. 

“I know my way around Vel, I don’t need an escort. You can go do whatever you need to do.” I told her. 

“This is what I need to do. Your makeup needs to be adjusted based on the lighting, so for the next hour you’re stuck with me.” She pushed open the door to Vox’s main control room and strode in as if she owned the entire studio. “Vox! We’re here!” 

From the center of the control room, Vox spun around in his chair to face us. He grinned when he saw her, his smile literally lighting up the room. “Ah, Velvette. How are you on this hellish morning? Or is it afternoon?” He pulled her to him and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

Velvette rolled her eyes but I saw the pink rise in her cheeks. She definitely wasn’t one to show too much emotion, but when you’re in love…I guess your body has a way of showing it, regardless of what your brain thinks. 

“Cut the shit Vox. She’s here, on time. Ready to go. So…let’s go.” She tapped her foot impatiently. 

“Oh my little…” Vox began. 

She pressed her finger to his lips, effectively cutting him off. “Not here. Not now. Let’s go. There is work to be done!” 

Vox rolled his eyes but looked at me. He picked up his laptop and full coffee mug. “Alright, guess we better get going. Come, come. Follow me.” 

He led us over to what was clearly a broadcast set. Two comfortable looking chairs took up the space, one tucked neatly behind a desk and the other next to it, just off to the side.The careful arrangement to capture only the best view of both occupants was obvious. I looked up and saw the multitude of cameras pointed, capturing every angle of the occupants of the chairs. The nervous feeling buzzed as it settled in my chest. This was much, much more different than the wooden podiums I was used to.

Vox led us behind the stage, pushing open a door. The room behind it was large, with multiple chair and mirror sets lined neatly against the side wall. At the moment, there were no actors or actresses skittering around, frantically trying to get dressed. The room seemed almost too empty with just the three of us. 

“Hey, most people don’t give a shit who sees them naked. But I brought in a divider so you have privacy.” He nodded towards the corner. “But there shouldn’t be anyone in here anyway. I scheduled all my programming earlier this morning.”

“Alright, enough chatter. Or if you need to chatter, at least sit in the chair while I fix that mess of hair,” Velvettle ordered with exasperation. 

I took a seat and she set to work. Vox sat in the empty chair next to us, typing away on his laptop.

“So, how is this going to go down? Can you give me a run through?” I asked as Velvette shuffled around me. 

“Simple really. I host the most popular morning show in the seven rings of hell. You’ll walk out, sit in the guest seat and answer the questions I ask. Don’t worry about looking at the camera, or messing up. I’ll personally edit everything after to make sure it’s perfect.” Vox answered. 

“Oh, personal edits. You’re so special. Usually he pushes that grunt work off on his employees.” Velvette teased as she ran a hand through my hair, separating the long strands. 

“Yeah well, it’s not every day you out the Princess of Hell to all the universe,” Vox muttered as he took a sip of his coffee. 

I thought back to my conversation with Angel Dust. “Yeah, I have questions about that. Like…why am I the Princess of Hell? Doesn’t Lucifer have kids?” I asked. 

“Oh I wish. Maybe then our next ruler would be more like me and less like my sweet sister.” Lucifer’s voice appeared behind us. “Actually, scratch that. That may not be the best idea.” 

Velvette was the only one who didn’t jump, completely unphased by his presence as she continued her work. Lucifer leaned over, putting both his hands on my shoulders. I looked at the reflection of our faces in the mirror. Under the bright light, I could see some of the semblance between him and I. 

“Heard about your little outburst earlier. Wanted to check in, answer any questions and provide a little guidance on what to say before this all goes down.” He gave Vox a meaningful look. 

Vox simply raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his coffee. “Outburst?” 

Well. It was now or never.  “ What the fuck happened earlier and why am I Princess of Hell and not your kids?” I demanded. 

“Settle down,” Velvette mumbled. “I’m trying to work here.” 

Lucifer laughed. “Simple answer to the second.I don’t have any. And don’t plan on it. You’ve been on the roster as the successor to hell since the day you were born, kiddo.” 

“Well, what if that changes and you have kids? Does the title transfer to them?” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I assure you it won’t. But no. I signed the line over to you, your mother and father as my witnesses. Not that you’ll take my place for another twenty or thirty thousand years anyway. Maybe longer if I feel like it. I like my job, and I’m not eager to retire.”

He could have thrown ice cold water over me and that would have shocked less than his words. .“Lucifer, my father knew?”

“Of course. Signature on the title and everything, We all thought it best. I was just content to let the man raise you up living your best life in heaven. Or at least what I thought was happening. If I had known exactly how that man was treating you I would have come and brought you down here with me much, much sooner.” He clasped both of my shoulders and leaned forward.  “Oh well. Nothing we can do about it now.” 

Velvette gave him an irritated look. “Do you mind? You’re in my way and messing up my artwork.”

Lucifer grinned. “Right. Sorry about that.” He let go and took a step back. “Back to your first question. I reviewed the footage Vox sent me and Valentino answered it perfectly. Much like your angelic side, your demonic side gives you certain…abilities. At all levels, demons can manifest and harness energy that surrounds them to use as they please. The more souls they own, the more energy they can harness and the more things they can do with that energy.” He glanced at Vox and Velvette. “You’re sitting next to three of the most powerful beings in hell right now. Neither of them are anywhere close to me, of course. But with the amount of souls they control, the more energy, the more power they can control.”

“So why did I, unintentionally harness and spew uncontrollable energy around Val, but couldn’t fight off the demons a few days ago?” I asked. “Because this newfound ability would have saved me a lot of unnecessary pain.” 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Simple. Your father taught you to shut down your emotions. To not feel pain, to hold in the anger, frustration, happiness, fear, sadness and the plethora of other emotions that make us who we are. Instead of  acknowledging and expressing emotions, Angels teach themselves to ignore the feelings, push them down deep inside, spouting lies that emotions cloud logic. They claim emotions lead to irrational decisions, when in reality logic and emotion balanced together allow us to control ourselves, and in our case, the energy around us. You cannot ignore how you feel. To do so is a disservice, both to yourself and the world around you. If you want to maintain control, and use the power your demon half blessed you wish, you can’t shut your emotions out.  I promise you, with the right blend of logic and emotion, you will be able to manifest that power and wield it as you desire.”

He paused before continuing.  “The night you were injured, when I saw you as battered as you were, I was ready to kill both Vox and Valentino, and anyone else who got in my way. I stopped not only because you begged, but because as soon as you realized what was going on, you unconsciously began to  harness and radiate that energy, and allowed those emotions to slip ever so slightly out of the wall you’ve so tightly built. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me pause.”

I frowned as I tried to remember. “I didn’t feel anything.” 

“Neutral face.” Velvette reminded me, tilting my chin up towards the light. 

“Of course you didn’t, you were barely able to stand. But it was there, however brief it may have been. And now that you know it exists, and how it works you can start to control it, harness it. Feelings and logic, sweetie pie. You’ll get the hang of it.” Lucifer’s phone pinged and he scowled and checked it before shoving it back into his pocket. 

For a couple of moments, the only sound in the studio came from Velvette’s brushes and Vox’s typing. 

“So what now? What do I do after this?” I asked. “And how do I go about mastering that….logic and emotion?” 

“Well, you could start by communicating when you hurt instead of sitting there biting the inside of your cheek every time a makeup brush touches your face,” he said, as if it was obvious. “Acknowledging the emotions and pain you feel would be a great start. As for the other questions…” Lucifer considered for a moment. “Once word gets out about your existence, we will address that. For now I want you to go out there, be the charming, bright little half angel you are, and then stick closer than close to these two.” He gestured to Vox and Velvette, “and the one upstairs. At least until things settle down. Both heaven and hell will be in an uproar over your position.” 

“In the meantime though, we still go about our daily routines. Once you’re okay enough to go back out with us each night that’s exactly what we’re going to do. You can’t hide- that shows weakness. No, you’ll be out there, a shining, lethal star to the public.” Vox added. 

Lucifer nodded and I heard his phone ping again. He cursed softly. “That’s all the time I have. Text me, kiddo if you need anything.” He leaned forward and lightly kissed the top of my head before vanishing. 

Silence among the three of us. 

“I lowkey hate how he can do that.” I said finally. “Vanish in and out like that. Can all demons do it?” 

“Nah. That privilege is exclusively limited to the Morningstar line. You probably could, if you owned enough souls. And of course, mastered the emotions, logic thing. It isn’t that hard, really.” Velvette said. She reached around and patted my hand. “We’ll get you there. Don’t you worry.” 

Nausea washed over me at the very idea of owning a soul. Or maybe it was from the pain. “I have no desire to have ownership over someone else. My natural born abilities should be more than enough.”

“You might find that someday that changes,” Vox said, looking up from his laptop. “Someday when you see a soul that needs help, and you can offer that help- but need her soul to be bound to you and to hell in order to offer that assistance. Sounds sappy, but all of our first contracts fit that general plot. That’s why they all sucked.”

“Truth. I think Valentino is the only one still bound to his first contract. Mine was ripped apart years ago.” Velvette added.

Vox concurred. “Yeah. I got rid of mine too.”

“Then why is Val still bound to his?” I asked.

“The wording. And before you ask, no. You can’t see it. You don’t want to.” Vox responded, looking down at his screen. He cursed quietly under his breath.

“How do I even write a contract? I’m good, but I’m not a lawyer.” I protested. 

Velvette leaned over. “Babe you’re getting ahead of yourself. That’s probably a long way off. But to answer your question- the three of us are experts. We won’t string you up and leave you like we were.” She squeezed my shoulder in another rare show of comfort. “Now shush. Then I need you to get dressed.” 

With makeup and hair finished, we stepped behind the divider Vox had put up. Velvette helped me out of that morning's outfit, slipping me into a pretty long sleeved, v-neck, knee length white dress with a dainty pearl belt. On my legs, I wore pantyhose that concealed all the cuts and bruises. The V necklace remained, and I stepped into pretty white, low heels.

“My goal here is to make you as angelic as possible. So when I dress you up in real clothes for when we go out, people won’t have that image of you. It’ll keep you a little more hidden, for the time being at least,” Velvette explained as she dabbed coverage around my neck and chest, concealing any marks the dress didn’t. 

“Will people be angry?” I asked as she stepped back to study me.  

She was quiet for a moment before she sighed. “Probably. I mean, Lucifer has literally ruled hell with no heir for all of eternity. But honestly, its the angels I’m more worried about. Sure they can’t survive in hell for more than a day, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try to step in and do some cleaning up on their own. Especially when they see you- an abomination in their eyes-  in such a position of power.” She reached up and adjusted a lock of hair. “There. Perfect. Go see Vox and let’s get this done with. I’m starved and I’m sure you are too.” 

I hadn’t noticed until that point, but she was right. Breakfast had been a while ago. Ignoring the grumblings that appeared the moment I gave recognition to my hunger, I followed her back to the chair. Vox stood up when he saw me, grinning at the both of us. 

“Ah. Perfect. Vel, you have outdone yourself once again. Come on Princess, let’s get this over with.” He leaned over and kissed Velvette on the cheek. “We’ll be upstairs in about an hour. Have lunch ready for us?” 

She rolled her eyes and typed quickly on her phone. “Consider it done. I let Val know too.I’m sure he’ll join us.” 

I watched as she pranced off. A different kind of butterfly joined the rumblings in my belly as nerves sank deeper in. 

“Deep breath kid, you’ll be fine. It’s just me.” Vox said, reaching over and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Just pretend we’re having breakfast. Here, this is how it's going to go down. I’m going to take my seat and you’ll hear me introduce you. Music will play and that’s your cue to walk across the stage and take your seat. Feel free to smile, wave, whatever. People will like you just for who you are. So be sure to just be yourself.” He gave my hand a final squeeze before walking across the stage, smiling and waving to an invisible audience as music played around him. 

My heart pounded as I listened for him to call my name. Time seemed to slow and after what felt like forever, I heard his voice loud and clear across the stage. 

“You’ve heard the rumors and we at VoxTech are pleased to be the first one to confirm her existence. Please welcome the newest member of the V’s,  Princess Reader Morningstar! That’s right, you heard me folks. Princess Reader Morningstar live in our studio today!”

The music played and I walked across the stage. I definitely felt a bit silly as I smiled and waved at the empty studio, but did my best to let it roll off.  I took my seat on the other side of Vox and caught his eye.

“Good to see you sweetheart, welcome to the stage! So nice to get you out in the open after all these months together!” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “Tell me, Princess, how exactly are you related to the big boss himself?”

I continued to smile and crossed my ankles gracefully, folding my hands on my lap. “Well you see, Lucifer is my uncle. My mom was his sister Lilith, who tragically passed at the hands of the angelic military soon not too long after I was born.”

Sad music played behind us and Vox looked grim, taking his elbows off the table as he leaned back in his chair.  “I see. Here in hell we remember that tragic day- a true loss for all demonkind. Tell me, Princess. If Lilith is your mother, who is your father?”

“Who was my father,” I corrected instantly,  “my father was an angel- the former leader of the exorcist division, to be exact.” 

Music swirled behind us. I felt my heart flutter and I wondered if I had said the right thing. Vox didn’t seem to notice, or I didn’t display my concerns. In the moment, I couldn't tell. 

“You heard that right folks. Half angel, half demon, twenty five years in heaven. Tell me honey, how did you end up down here?” He gave me the slightest nod, an encouraging smile. 

I bit back the nervousness as best I could.  “My dad, he knew what I was. Knew what he’d done. He sent me down here right before he was killed.” 

“And who killed him, Princess?” Vox asked, his voice dropping in volume. 

My heart pounded in my chest as I spoke my answer with more confidence than I felt.  “The new leader of the exorcist division. My dad wasn’t the best, but he brokered the deal with heaven that Angels couldn’t simply come down to hell and slaughter demons at will. The culling of demons are- were- controlled by Lucifer. Now that my father is gone, and a new leader has stepped up, I’m not sure how long that deal will hold up.”

Vox leaned forward. “Do you mean to say there could be extermination days? Like there were in the early days of hell?”

I gave the smallest nod. “Unless a similar deal is made between Lucifer and Heaven, I would think that is a very distinct possibility.” 

“Wow. And there you have it folks, out of the mouth of Princess Morningstar herself. Now over to our interview with King Lucifer, coming up after these messages.” 

I heard a snap and Vox beamed at me.  “Good job sweetie, that was excellent!”  He pulled a laptop out from under his desk and began punching the keys. “We’ll play you, and then Lucifer’s interview confirming what you said and volia! We have television.” 

I stared at him in dismay. “Vox, you can’t play that- those were all leading questions. I don’t know if everything I said is true. I was just guessing based on what I know.”

Vox shrugged as he continued to pound on his laptop. “Leading questions written by Lucifer himself. He did tell me you’d connect the dots on camera- I didn’t think it was possible at first, but he was right. Every word you said was directly on point for Lucifer’s script.” He leaned back away from his laptop and stretched. “Honestly I didn’t think we’d get it right in the first shot. You have a natural talent in front of the camera.”

Still uneasy, I took my phone out from the pocket stitched inside the dress, sending him a quick text. Usually so quick to answer, but today he didn’t get back right away.

“He’s probably busy. He does run all of Hell, after all. Come on, let’s go upstairs and get lunch.” Vox suggested standing up as he continued to stretch. “Ah, that was fantastic! I’m so pumped!”  

I ignored his positivity and checked my phone again. No response. Vox put his arm around me and I involuntarily winced at the pressure. He pulled away instantly, a frown replacing his overly cheerful grin. 

“I have medication for you. All you had to do was ask,” he chastised as we walked towards the elevator. 

The exhaustion, the soreness and the overall events of the day caused me to be more snappy than I intended. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not actively dying, so I’m fine.” I replied through gritted teeth. 

He pushed his hand to my forehead as we walked, and pulled away after a moment, brushing the makeup that rubbed off onto his pants. “You’re not warm. Which is good.”

“Right, because I’m fine. Better even than this morning.” I hit the elevator button. “Angels heal quick, and even Vel said my bruises have turned lighter even just in the past few hours.”

“You use the line ‘angels heal quick’ say that like it means something. Doesn’t matter how fast you heal, angels still feel pain.” He stepped inside the elevator and looked at me. “And don’t tell me they don’t, because we both know that’s a lie.”

Was it pity on his face? Annoyance? I couldn’t quite tell. I took the step in, standing next to him as the door closed  in front of us. “I never said angels didn’t feel pain,  I just said I was used to it.”

“Yeah and that’s a problem for all of us. I mean, I’m sure it’s a great asset in battle, and probably great if you’re in a bar fight. But when you’re home, in your safe zone you should be able to freely express when you’re not quite at your best. That’s what Lucifer was saying right?” He chuckled. “Believe me, Velvette is the worst when she’s sick, and she doesn’t hesitate to let us know it. At all. That ability to say how you feel truthfully is just a step into starting to control that emotion, logic balance Lucifer was going on about. It’s tough to maintain, but that’s why the three of us banded together initially. We’re each other's support system. We can tell each other when we’re angry, frustrated, sad, whatever, be it at work, at life, or at each other. Expressing those feelings helps to control them.” 

I could feel my frustration level rise along with the elevator.  I had spent the past twenty five years of my life hiding my feelings, concealing any pain. Did he expect that all of the sudden I would just be able to talk? Be able to say how I felt? Just the thought was enough to make me uncomfortable. 

The door opened and we both stepped out into the flat. I turned to him, the anger inside of me building from the turmoil of the day. 

“You want honesty? I’m sore and I feel like shit. I’m exhausted and would like nothing more than to march back into Valentinos studio and drag him back into our bedroom solely to be cuddled and loved until I absolutely pass out and sleep until I wake up in Val’s arms and then do all of that all over again until it no longer hurts.” I crossed my arms as I let every ounce of frustration show in my voice. They wanted emotion? Fine! They would get emotion! 

A smirk broke out on Vox’s face. “Finally. Let it out. Course it would have been less explosive if you had said something a few hours ago, but it’s a solid start.” 

I felt myself begin to shake from both anger and frustration. Behind me, I felt familiar arms wrap around my waist and pull me back gently. I let out an exhale. Valentino. At his touch, the anger and frustration melted away, replaced with shame. Fuck. Vox didn’t deserve to be yelled at. 

“Is that so, Princessa? I had no idea you had such desires.” Valentino whispered in my ear as my body pressed against his.  “I can make that happen this afternoon if you want it that badly, what do you say mi amor?” 

I felt my cheeks turn red and I looked away. “Val, hi.” I swallowed nervously. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. And I’m so pleased to listen to you verbalize your desires, Princessa. Now I can act on them.” He kissed down my neck softly. “See what happens when you communicate and use your words? Your wish is granted. I can work from home the rest of the day.” He gave me a gentle squeeze and released me. “ But first, mi amor, lunch. Go sit, I’ll bring it to you.” 

I hesitated and turned to Vox. “I’m sorry I shouldn't have….”

Vox held up a hand. “No, no apologies. The whole point of this was for me to literally push you until you broke down and actually acknowledged your anger. Don’t you feel better now? Just like Lucifer talked about.  And you get Val for the rest of the day- I call that a win.” He walked past me and gently tousled my hair. 

A sense of warmness flooded through me and I followed him into the living room. I flopped onto my usual spot on the couch and closed my eyes. Vox was right. I did hurt, I was tired, I was angry about all of it. Not  that yelling at him fixed any of those problems but part of me, somewhere, felt better just having said it, having put into words those feelings that swirled inside of me.

I thought back on what Lucifer had said, taking into account the events of the previous minutes. If it took figuring out how to balance logic and emotions to maintain control over the energy I could now manipulate, undoing years worth of military training was a small price to pay for the control that balance promised me. The more I thought about it, the more I desired that balance- the release and necessity counterparts to emotions and logic. It was the polar opposite of anything and everything I had been taught, but if it meant never losing control like I had earlier in the day, I was willing to give it my best shot. 

After all, Valentino, Vox and Velvette could do it. And if they could do it, I was sure I would be able to as well. 

#the vees #valentino x reader #valentino x you #valentino x wife #vox x reader #valentino #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin #hazbin hotel fandom

[reobsessed]

Sickness In His Care

Pairing: Reader X Karl Heisenberg. Content Warning: 18+, Mentions of sex but no actual sex in the story itself, Reader X Karl Heisenberg fic, slight humour. Can't think of any other warnings but please let me know in the comments if I missed anything. Summary: You'd been seeing Karl Heisenberg for a while now and had since started staying in the factory. However, one day you come down with a fever. Expecting him not to care you do your best to avoid him but you find yourself at a loss for words when he tries to take care of you. This is just a short one, inspired by my current illness. Wanted to write about a sick reader being taken care of by Karl =p Hope you enjoy! Might add more one-shots to this series later. Thanks again to Suri for editting and reads!

Your body was racked by coughs and splutters, occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy machines whirring. You did your best to fall asleep but the oppressive heat of both your fever and the humid factory air wouldn’t allow for that. How Heisenberg worked in this, day in, day out boggled your mind. You had a lot of questions concerning that man.

With no such luck in drifting off, you flung your legs over the side of the makeshift bed and wrapped a blanket around yourself, for modesty’s sake. You made your way to the main elevator and adjusted your underwear while you walked.

Despite their inability to see, you felt intimidated beneath the many dead eyes of the factory. They’d long since had the life and humanity extinguished from them, but much like a porcelain doll, their eyes followed you across the hall.

Unfortunately you weren’t wearing any shoes either. They’d been discarded halfway across a room, (you couldn’t remember which) when he’d accosted you from behind several nights before. He did that sometimes, he’d enter a room irritated, ranting and raving about his ‘life’s work’, Mother Miranda or some other insignificant event. Then as he would throw his coat to the floor he’d come up behind and bury his face in the crook of your neck. It was his silent plea for attention, the only release in his life that didn’t coincide with destructive violence.

Things would get rough sometimes. Tumbling around with shrapnel and a dirty man who never left his basement certainly had its risks; but at the end of it all, nothing ever went outside of your comfort zone. Cruel and ruthless Lord Heisenberg was capable of some decency, if only in that regard.

Memories of the prior night filled you with excitement. You brought your hand to the swollen cluster of love bites mapped across your chest and neck. You’d returned the favour, and left a colourful array dotted across his neck, ensuring they were in full view of any who encountered him. You hoped to God he got called into a family meeting sometime soon. With an impish giggle you clicked the button on the elevator and ascended to the top floor. You hoped he was anywhere but his office, but unfortunately your luck had run out around the same time you’d met him.

As soon as you opened the door you were greeted by his side profile, head in hands, slumped over a diagram on the table. Probably sulking again.

“The fuck are you doing in here? I thought I told you not to bother me while I’m working.” He let out a puff of cigar smoke. Didn’t even have the decency to look at you. Dick.

As per your usual pettiness you ignored him and made a beeline for the door at the back of the room. Suddenly you toppled backwards as a thin chain of metal wrapped itself around your wrist, not intended to hurt you but to stop you from going any further. However, he’d miscalculated and hadn’t noticed your sickly state until after you’d begun to tumble backwards. As you fell to the ground, he steadied you with more offcuts of metal.

“The hell is wrong with you?” he raised his voice, a combination of tiredness and confusion. 

Metal clattered to the floor as he stood up. With a rough grip, he pulled you upright and turned you to face him. He studied you intently, glasses slipping down past his nose. You stared into his eyes, watching as anger dissipated into uncharacteristic worry.

Heisenberg was never good at concealing his emotions, especially not his anger and now this too, apparently.

“I just wanted some fresh air,” you croaked.

Cigar smoke choked your already irritated throat and you began another coughing fit, you tried your best to turn away but his burly arms held you in place. You were shocked that he didn’t seem to mind when you spluttered all over his stained work shirt but then again, you’d covered him in worse things.

“Forgot humans get sick, haven’t been sick in over forty years.”

“Certainly starting to get sick of you.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blackened glasses, but you knew he was rolling them.

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He grabbed your arm and shook it. “What do you do when one of these gets sick?”

“Well, I was hoping to avoid you turning me into one of your new toys, but I guess that’s up in the air now,” you sniffed, swallowing a large glob of phlegm stuck at the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” he sneered at you, now holding you away from him at arm’s length.

“I can’t help it,” you spat, attempting to pull yourself free. “And besides, have you smelt yourself recently?”

“Wait a minute, I have something for this!” His grip slipped from your wrist and fell into your hand. You let out a nasalled grunt as he dragged you across the room to his desk. After rummaging around with one hand he pulled out a dusted bottle from the bottom drawer. “This should do the trick.”

Your nose wrinkled when you looked at the awaiting bottle. It was covered in a thick layer of grime and much of the writing had worn off the label a long time ago, based on the few remaining letters you assumed this used to be some kind of ‘medicine’. You turned it over to see the date ‘1923’ printed along the bottom.

“Yep. I’ll be better in no time with this.” You swivelled the bottle, watching as black ooze splashed against the sides. He had a triumphant grin on his face and you couldn’t bring yourself to ridicule him further. “Right, well I’m going outside.”

“Dressed like that?”

“What are you, my dad?”

He pulled the blanket around your shoulders and touched a gloved hand to your forehead.

“You’re cold.”

Stifling yet another cough, you laughed softly. 

“How can you tell? You’re wearing gloves, you buffoon.”

He wrapped you in an embrace, only when held in the stillness of his arms did you realise that you’d been shivering this entire time. Had your fever turned to chills? With his arms still around you he pulled you over to his chair and sat you in his lap, presumably so he could keep working.

“So… you not gonna turn me into a Soldat after all?” you laughed nervously.

He brought the cigar to his lips. “Bad materials.”

You slapped his chest playfully and turned to nestle yourself in his arms. Usually after sex you’d push him away, the man radiated far too much heat in the already sweltering factory, but you were currently thankful for the warmth. It must have been awkward trying to work around the mass of your body, but he didn’t complain. As the two of you sat together you came to the realisation that he wasn’t doing any work at all, and that in reality, all he wanted to do was sit with you in his arms while you recovered.

Fuck.

Somewhere along the way the two of you had lost yourselves. What was supposed to have been a one-night stand had spiralled into weekly hookups, and from there it had turned into shared space and something akin to actual concern for one another. You were filled with a sense of dread, but you pushed it down in favour of sinking further into his chest. Before you drifted off, you could have sworn you felt the brush of his lips against your hair. 

A bitter sweetness churned your stomach. You felt a unique longing, beyond anything you’d ever felt for anyone else. Sex and desire had become secondary in favour of a new want; if only you had more time to spend in comfortable silence together.

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x oc #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg x You #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #resident evil 8 village #resident evil #re #my fic #reader fic #re village #fanfic

[areyoudoingthis]

Stede draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again. - Picks up right after Stede closes the bed curtains. Tender, horny sex ensues.

He draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again.

Stede has laid awake on this same bed on countless sleepless nights, dreaming of this exact moment. Vague shapeless dreams at first, just him and Ed together in some undefined capacity. Far more real fantasies lately, since he cut off the ties that bound him to land and gentry and shed the man whose role he was suffocating having to perform.

He feels electrified, everything that happened tonight pressing against the inside of his skull with the force of a ram. The desperation of watching Ed get tortured, the satisfaction of being able to protect his crew and the man he loves, taking the irrevocable step to push Low off the plank after hearing him claim that Ed only views him as a pet and call Ed low born scum. He feels his blood boil again at the memory.

He doesn't regret doing it, is the thing. All his life the one thing he's craved is a place to belong, somewhere he's welcome, and now that he's found it, now that he has a family he can actually protect, people who depend on him, he will be fierce in ensuring the destruction of anyone that harms them.

But it's still making him feel dizzy, still brings the taste of vile to his mouth and the paralyzing memory to his mind of being called lily livered while his face was covered in blood, and feeling the word soft slice sharp like a knife against his skin.

He needs to kiss Ed, needs to press their lips back together until he can't breathe, until his head is spinning for entirely more pleasant reasons.

So he follows the instinct, plants a knee on the bed next to Ed's thigh and buries a hand in his hair, tilts his head up to kiss him and holds him tight with the other one around the back of his neck. Ed kisses back unrestrained, like maybe he wants this just as much as Stede does - and what a wonderful surprise that has been tonight. He wants to bottle up the lightening coursing through his veins and keep it around forever, to pour on his lips when he's feeling insecure about his place in the world and in this man's heart.

He breaks away from Ed's lips to trail wet, slow kisses along his neck, his shoulder, slides down the collar of his shirt out of the way until he can't reach any more skin and he has to separate from him to remove it altogether. Ed's arms go easily where Stede guides them, drape languidly around his neck to pull him close once they're free. Stede feels his heart climb into his throat, the way he did earlier when Ed nodded and drew him close into his body.

He pushes them down onto the bed, and Ed leans back without loosening his arms from around his neck, keeps kissing him the entire time. The feeling of Ed's tongue in his mouth is like a live ember burning inside him; he never wants to stop drinking him in, pulling his breath into his own lungs. He moans when he presses down more heavily onto Ed and feels the hardness in his pants firm against his thigh. This is the moment he's been alive for his whole life, why he kept waking up every morning of the miserable decades he spent stuck in a life he never wanted and not knowing Ed.

He rolls his hips against him out of instinct, and the friction of Ed's leather clad body against his cock has sparks licking like flames over his skin. He feels invincible right now, like he could take on a whole army of Ned Lows and defeat them single-handedly.

Ed is rocking against him, too, seeking the same release Stede craves. His open need makes Stede feel bold, like he could do anything, so he drags his lips down Ed's chest to his stomach, sucks open mouthed kisses against silken skin, traces the dark ink that decorates Ed's body with his tongue. He accidentally brushes against the burn mark on Ed's chest and Ed whimpers.

"Shit, sorry," he hurries to apologize.

"Not a bad feeling, mate," Ed says, a little breathless. Stede's eyes open wide, but he remembers Ed asking to be stabbed a million weeks ago, when he was still a different man that couldn't understand what was being asked of him and thought they were just playing pirates, and the way he moaned with Stede's sword stuck in his side. He brushes his lips tenderly around the wound, licks softly over it, and Ed writhes underneath him.

Stede prides himself on a rich imagination, but in his wildest fantasies he could never have pictured Ed like this, limbs loose and relaxed, lips red and kiss bitten, breath ragged, looking at him from underneath his eyelashes like there is nowhere else he'd rather be in the world.

Satisfied that he's given him what he wanted, he resumes his exploration of Ed's skin, slides his tongue down his sternum, flicks it over a nipple and is rewarded with a gasp and Ed's hand tangling in his hair, pushing him down with the barest amount of pressure. He gets the message and does it again, and then he sucks it into his mouth, and Ed's hand tightens further around his fistful of Stede's hair. The sting in his scalp feels so fucking good that he drags the nipple between his teeth to get Ed to do it again.

"Stede," Ed moans, not like he's asking for anything, more like he just wants to hold Stede's name on his lips for a while. Stede feels like he might do something embarrassing like cry at the sound, so he distracts himself by giving the same treatment to Ed's other nipple, and Ed keeps squirming against the bed, rolling his hips up fiercely to meet Stede's.

He feels like this is more than he ever wanted and nowhere near enough, like he's feasting and starving at once. He goes back to mapping Ed's tattoos with his lips, follows the lovely trail of silvery black hair down his stomach to the waistline of his pants, keeps going as far as he can.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, when he can't push the unyielding leather any further.

"Yeah," Ed concedes, like a gift.

His fingers tremble slightly as he undoes the buttons. It takes him longer than it should to get them open, but it's not like they have anywhere else to be. The crew are still partying above deck, he can hear singing and what he assumes is more dancing now that the roar of the fireworks has ceased. He feels sorry he didn't get to dance with Ed before they were interrupted, but he supposes this could count as dancing, too. A dance just for the two of them, with steps they decide and to whatever rhythm they choose.

Finally, he manages to get Ed's buttons open, and he hesitates for a second before he reminds himself that Ed offered, he nodded and kissed Stede back, pulled him into his body like he meant to keep him.

He hooks his hands on the waistband and pulls, and then Ed's cock is free before him, long and dark and already full, all for him.

"Can I taste you?" he chases another impulse. He's never done this before, knows the act exists from literature and living on a pirate ship with a crew that enjoys having sex in every random corner they can find. But the need to have Ed in his mouth is overwhelming, short circuits his brain and keeps him suspended in midair until Ed replies.

"You can do whatever you want, Stede."

Oh, how he loves him. The whole firmament has lodged itself inside Stede's chest, burning bright and incandescent.

He removes Ed's trousers all the way, discards them with a heavy thud of leather and metal on the floor, and kneels between his legs on the bed. He keeps eye contact with Ed the whole time as he sinks down and kisses his soft thighs, first one, then the other, sucks red and purple blooms into his skin. Ed groans and thrashes his head against the pillow.

His legs are also dotted with tattoos, and Stede makes plans to spend an entire day memorizing every drawing on Ed's skin sometime, in bright sunlight so he can admire them properly. He runs a hand from Ed's ankle to his thigh, loving the drag of coarse hair against the pads of his fingers. Ed watches him a little transfixed, like maybe he's worried that Stede will disappear if he looks away. Stede needs to reassure him that he's not going anywhere, that this is where he wants to be for the rest of his life.

He presses his nose into Ed's pubic hair, inhales him deeply and feels his head swim with the reality of what they're doing, of the man in the bed beneath him, the cock pressing against his cheek. Ed is so very solid here next to him - they're having sex for the first time, his first time with a man, with someone he truly desires and who desires him back. His chest expands and floods with starlight.

He rubs his cheek against the soft skin of Ed's thigh, savoring the moment, fists the fingers of his right hand around Ed's shaft and strokes it delicately, still a little awed that he gets to do this. He guides Ed's cock towards his mouth and finally, finally, wraps his lips around it. Ed bucks against the mattress and Stede chokes a little, more out of surprise than anything else.

"Sorry, sorry," Ed apologizes. "Didn't expect it'd feel like that, mate, sorry."

Now what on earth does he mean by that.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The look Ed gives him can only be described as fond, bottomlessly so.

"No, 's just intense, 's all."

"Oh."

"Oh," Ed agrees.

Well, then. He can certainly understand the sentiment. His own dick is straining uncomfortably against his pants, which he still hasn't taken off. Leather isn't the most comfortable fabric, he's beginning to realize. He's incredibly turned on, too, is the point, and every one of his senses feels heightened to an almost overwhelming degree.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Yeah, yeah, you can."

"Okay." He feels like giggling, like his lungs are full of helium instead of oxygen.

He leans back over Ed's cock and sucks it between his lips, takes the head into his mouth and lets it sit on his tongue for a second, getting used to the stretch and the taste and the weight of it.

He decides that having a cock in his mouth is profoundly satisfying, after all. In all his late night fantasies he never dreamed it could be like this, the rush of bringing Ed pleasure, of using the soft parts of himself to make the man he loves feel good. He's been hard since he pushed Ed into the wall and poured all his wild need into his mouth, and he feels himself grow impossibly harder at this realization. Tonight is a night of epiphanies, it seems.

Having determined that he likes this rather a lot, actually, he starts bobbing his head up and down on Ed's cock, testing how deep he can take him, listening to his groans and gasps of pleasure for clues about what works best, what makes him whimper and hitch his hips in tiny movements, trying to keep himself from bucking into Stede's mouth again.

He hopes his eagerness is making up for his lack of experience as he drools messily all over Ed's shaft and down his own chin. The way Ed moans loudly when he slides his tongue from root to tip and licks at the head makes the butterflies in his chest hope that it is. He builds a steady rhythm, breathes through his nose and takes him in as deep as he can, endlessly hungry for him. He loses himself in the act for minutes, hours, maybe, until Ed's voice brings him back to himself.

"Stede, fuck," Ed pants. "If you were planning on this going anywhere else tonight, ya're gonna have to stop that. Not that young anymore, mate. Two in a row might be too much to ask for."

His brain scrambles to a stop, and he sits unmoving with Ed's cock in his mouth for a moment. He hasn't been thinking more than two seconds ahead all night, running on instinct and adrenaline and hunger. But if he's honest with himself, he knows where he's wanted to take this since he grabbed Ed by the lapels of his jacket and Ed kissed back desperately.

He pulls off Ed's cock and stares at him, chest heaving, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings inside it.

"Can I fuck you?"

Hasn't this entire night been about asking for what he wants, heeding the hunger that's been gnawing at his insides his whole life, after all? Might as well go for broke.

"Already told ya, you can do anything you want." Stede's owned land and rich fabrics and books and shiny trinkets in the thousands, but nothing has ever compared to Ed offering himself to him like this, trusting and hopeful.

He takes a minute to breathe deeply and calm his mind before he stands up from the bed and removes his trousers. They've undressed in front of each other before, but that was chaste and they'd both turned around while the other got dressed. Stede was still half dead and feverish from a wound to the stomach that day.

This time it's intentional, and a prelude to something more, something he's dreamed about for months, for his entire life, perhaps. Ed has his head turned on the pillow and is watching him hungrily, cheeks rosy, skin shining with sweat, legs still spread out for Stede. The reality is infinitely better than any fantasy he's ever had.

He returns to the bed, kneels between Ed's thighs once more. This is the only home he needs now; he's glad he left every tie he ever had behind so he can nest himself here and stay for good. He doesn't know where to begin, loses his train of thought for a few seconds. Ed gazes at him patently, grants him time to adjust.

"Do you have any oil?" he gifts him a lifeline, as if he hasn't given Stede enough tonight already.

"I- yes." Why is this the thing that's making him blush - he had Ed's dick in his mouth a few minutes ago. He shakes himself and leans over Ed to reach around between the mattress and the window, fishes out the flask that he's kept there for a couple of days. The reason why it's there makes his brain burn even brighter. He has wanted this, and now it's happening.

Ed takes the bottle from him, sets it down on the sheets and holds his fingers gently in his hands to pull the rings off of them one by one, unhurriedly. They clatter against the windowsill when he sets them down, and the sound gets burned in Stede's brain with the weight of an anchor holding him safely in place. Once he's done divesting him of his rings, Ed picks the oil back up and holds Stede's hand in his, pulls off the stopper and pours some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers, where it sits like an offering at an altar.

Stede swallows the lump in his throat, brushes the hair off Ed's face, caresses his temple, his cheekbone, his jaw, runs his thumb over his bottom lip, tenderness welling up inside him and flooding through his skin. Ed takes advantage of his stillness to suck Stede's finger into his mouth, and Stede almost dies then and there. Ed's tongue laves around his finger, and Stede moans brokenly and kisses him, almost forgets that his hand is covered in oil and makes a mess of Ed's skin.

He gazes with naked adoration at Ed as he rubs the oil between his index and middle fingers, coating them thoroughly in it, then braces himself with one arm next to Ed's head, infinitely sorry to have to pull his finger out of his mouth.

He reaches between Ed's legs with his other hand, strokes softly down his balls and his perineum until he reaches his entrance. The next step sends his heart into disarray. He rubs a finger in slow circles against Ed's hole until Ed is whimpering and shaking again, and then he adds a little more pressure to his movements and he's sinking inside him, heat enveloping his finger and his mind. It's tight, and impossibly warm, and doing this feels like nothing's ever felt in Stede's entire life. No rush has ever compared to this, not piracy nor faking his death to chase his freedom.

He moves his finger tentatively in and out, and the way Ed moans his name knocks the breath out of his lungs and has pride crashing inside him like waves in the surf. He does it again, builds a slow, unhurried rhythm. Ed's pants and praises fill the air around them, in this otherwise quiet and secluded spot where only the two of them exist. He adds a second finger when he feels the first one start to glide easily inside him, and Ed's body welcomes it eagerly.

He's enchanted by the sight of Ed in this moment. He looks so lovely and relaxed, Stede's never seen anything more beautiful - no painting or sunset or starry sky could compare. His skin is flushed, his chest rises up and down like butterfly's wings, his skin shines, his eyes are scrunched in pleasure and his hair is an untamed mess around him from the way he keeps tossing his head against the pillow. He wants to press the image of Ed's shameless hunger between the pages of a book and preserve it forever.

He mutters nonsensical praises at him, driving his fingers into him relentlessly, loving the pressure and the feverish warmth of his hole around his fingers. He's high on the way Ed reacts as he strokes inside him, the sounds that pour ceaselessly from his lips, the way his body can't stop shaking uncontrollably, like he wants to climb out of his own skin from how good it feels. He could to this for the rest of his life and never tire of it. His cock his leaking against his stomach, balls tight with need, but none of it matters more than touching Ed like this.

"Stede," Ed whines.

"Yes?"

"Try curling your fingers." The words spark inside Stede's mind like fireworks.

He crooks his fingers experimentally inside Ed as he asked, and Ed's hips shoot of the bed as his hands fist on the sheets, pleas for more pouring from his lips and washing over Stede like summer sunlight. He will gladly spend the rest of his life giving him anything he wants. He has to kiss him, take those sounds into his mouth and drink them in. He leans down, licks his tongue against Ed's lips, and Ed's mouth opens up for him like the rest of his body is opening around Stede's fingers.

He pours all his love into Ed's mouth, breathes hotly against him as their tongues slide wetly together.

"More, please, need you," the words drop from Ed's lips like fireflies in the dark.

Everything, anything. A third finger joins the first two as they slide in and out of Ed's hole, press against the spot that makes him scream. Ed's legs come up to wrap around his waist, holding him tight against his body like he's been doing all night. Stede feels tethered to him; he's never had a place where he belonged, but he belongs with Ed like this, joined from head to toe, wrapped around each other like two people who are meant to be together.

He digs his knuckles deep inside him, longing to get even closer. Ed writhes desperately between the mattress and his body, all fire and hunger, slides his arms around Stede's shoulders and holds on. Flames skid down Stede's skin, and he thrusts his fingers faster, overcome by a need that obliterates any tentativeness he felt. Time stretches infinite between them, eons pass as he gets Ed's body ready for him.

"Stede, fuck me, please. I'm ready," Ed begs, ravenous.

Heat blooms in Stede's chest, sparks down his spine and shoots straight to his cock at the way Ed's voice breaks asking for him.

He separates from Ed only long enough to pour more oil on his fingers, mindful of this body he loves and everything they went through earlier. The pleasure when he fists a hand around his cock to get it slick makes him shiver. He wants to be inside Ed so urgently, needs to feel him under him and around him and in every crevice of his being.

He positions himself and takes a deep steadying breath. Their eyes are locked on each other's again, unable to look away. He grips his cock and guides it towards Ed's hole, presses in slowly. The moment he breeches him Stede feels like he dies and is born again a thousand times, the man he was and the man he is and the man he will become all infinitely in love with Ed, forever.

He pushes in inch by inch, needing to take it slow and feeling like Ed does, too, from the way he's looking at him with hooded eyes, neck taught and fingers clenching on the soft fabric of the sheets beneath them.

He bends to lick a stripe up his neck, tempted by the way it's calling to him. Ed takes advantage of the position to cling to him, legs going around his hips again and skin sticking together with sweat.

When he's finally fully seated inside Ed's body, he pauses and gazes at him, expectant. The pressure is exquisite, like being wrapped in warm flames that can't hurt him. Ed swallows visibly, then nods his head again, inviting Stede to move inside him like he invited him into his mouth at the beginning of the night.

Stede feels split wide open, affection and passion flowing through him and pouring out his of every pore into Ed's body. The "I love yous" gather in his throat and threaten to choke him, but he holds them back because Ed said he wasn't ready to hear them and Stede wouldn't betray his trust like that. He tries to say it with his body instead, peppers tender kisses all over his skin, presses his forehead against his heart and hopes he understands that he's making love to him with everything but his words.

Ed's heels dig against the meat of his ass, his cock slides damp against his stomach as their bodies rock together like a ship in the open ocean. There's a thunderstorm breaking inside Stede, loud and devastating, and he doesn't know what will be left standing in its wake. Moving inside Ed is like lightning and fire and starlight, like every force of nature has gathered here between their flesh. He rocks his hips in slow, deep thrusts, trying to memorize the exact way Ed's body clenches around his cock.

Ed mutters breathless encouragements as he thrusts up to meet him, the push and pull of their bodies ferocious like the sea at high tide. Stede's enveloped in heat, Ed's beautiful body and lovely skin and gorgeous hair and the sweetest brown eyes he's ever seen all that exists for him. He wants to stay like this forever, buried inside him and plastered to him, pleasure coursing back and forth between them like life giving breath.

He brushes the hair off Ed's damp forehead and goes back in for his mouth. Ed bites his lower lip and Stede gasps, breath ragged and head spinning; he feels raw and torn apart. He reaches down and clasps Ed's fingers between his, rests their joined hands on the pillow next to Ed's head, anchoring them together to survive the storm. There are tears welling in his eyes again, and Ed kisses them tenderly, buries his fingers in Stede's hair and claims his lips in a deep kiss.

Pleasures builds deep inside him as his cock drags hotly inside ed, threatening to pull him under. He picks up the rhythm, drives into him again and again as they hold onto each other and gasp heatedly into one another's mouths. He adjusts the angle of his hips on his next thrust and Ed's fingernails rake down his back, leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake.

"Stede," he moans brokenly, and electricity shoots along Stede's spine like he's been shocked. He does it again, frenzied to hear Ed's voice utter his name drenched in need like that over and over.

Ed cries out, grips Stede's arm tight enough to bruise, and Stede will wear the lovely shades of purple on his skin proudly, a mark of their passion to match the ones he left on Ed's thighs earlier.

"That's it, hold onto me. Let me give you what you need." He needs to take care of him so very desperately.

His hand leaves Ed's to wrap around his cock, dragging his fingers through the slick collected on his stomach to ease the slide, and Ed squirms and moans out loud, unraveled beneath him. Stede's starting to lose himself to the blaze sparking dangerously between them, swims in molten lava as Ed cries out his name and begs him to go faster.

He snaps his hips harder, matching his intensity bit by bit. The desire to give Ed pleasure supersedes everything else in Stede's mind. He needs to hear him scream in ecstasy and witness what he looks like in the throes of passion, with all his walls down and moaning Stede's name, begging him for more, harder, faster.

He moves at a feverish pace inside him, pulls out and slams back into him at the angle that makes Ed scream, as he fists Ed's cock tightly in his hand, trying all he things he likes on himself and hoping Ed enjoys them too.

It's blinding, all this feeling, like staring directly into the sun for too long. He feels a chasm open up inside him that may never be fully filled, an aching hunger for Ed that can never be satiated.

"I'm so close stede - fuuck - please, please!" Ed begs incoherently. And Stede cries out from how intense the pleasure of being connected with him like this is, moans praises into Ed's skin and chases both their releases as best as he can.

"It's okay, Ed, it's okay, I've got you. Wanna make you feel so good."

"You - ah, right there! - you already are."

Stede feels his orgasm building and building for an impossibly long time, high on the way they're joined and the hot flesh underneath him and having sex for the first time in his life in a way that is actually enjoyable.

Ed is groaning and whimpering brokenly, urging Stede on with his ankles around his ass and rocking back and forth between his dick in his hole and the tight fist on his cock. He's beyond beautiful lost in his pleasure, and Stede wants this to be the event that marks every one of his days. This is what he ran off to sea for, freedom and Ed and a love they can build together one day at a time.

Ed pulls him down towards his chest again, and Stede buries his face in his neck and bites down softly on tender skin, needing a release for the euphoria he's feeling.

Ed's hips shoot off the bed when his teeth close around his skin and he's coming in endless stripes between them, painting his and Stede's stomachs with his spend.

"Ed, oh my god, fuck I'm gonna-"

"Come on, Stede, come for me."

And it's the words and how ragged and stripped raw they sound that push him over the edge, into a bottomless ocean of Ed and pleasure and heat. He loses track of the next few minutes, as he empties himself inside Ed and collapses in a useless heap of leaden limbs on top of him.

Ed runs his hands softly through his hair, down his shoulders, his arms, offering grounding touches that Stede is grateful for while he struggles to remember where up and down are, wrung out and trying to get to shore.

He breathes heavily into Ed's chest until his lungs stop feeling like they're full of coals, kisses his heart tenderly and tries to pour all his love into him so he will know how important tonight has been for him.

"Was that good?" he asks shyly when he can finally look up at him again.

Ed chuckles.

"Mate, I just came my brains out, what do ya think? I think you finally finished fixing my lower back."

Stede laughs, drunk on love and Ed, and beams at him, pleased that he accomplished what he set out to do and made Ed feel good after a decidedly unpleasant evening.

"You're gonna need to move at some point, ya little blond barnacle. We're gonna get stuck together if we don't clean up," Ed says after a while of lying pressed together. That doesn't sound like the worst thing to him.

Stede feels like he should be offended at being compared to a barnacle, but he can't find it in himself to care. He would cling to Ed for the rest of his days if he was allowed, so it's not like it's a lie.

He reluctantly rolls over to lie next to him on the bed instead of on top of him, and winces a little at the stickiness. Sex was never this messy for him before, but he could grow to love this part, too, the evidence of how much they both enjoyed what happened between them.

He's floating high above his body, thinks he might easily get addicted to sex with Ed if he's allowed, if it always feels like this, like warmth and joy and shared passion.

Ed pushes off the bed and gets up, and Stede's brain panics a little. He wants to hold him all night, wake up tangled together on soft sheets in the morning.

Ed must notice something in his face because he leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips and says "Just going to fetch something to clean up with, 'kay? Be right back."

Stede relaxes back into the comfortable bed, watches Ed walk away without a stitch of clothing on with undisguised lust, and then decides to try and get the sheets back into some kind of order before he returns so they can actually sleep here tonight.

He's lying languidly back on tidier sheets, body liquid and mind at ease, when Ed returns with a soft wet cloth and kneels down next to him to wipe off the come from his stomach, then tenderly swipes it over his spent cock. Stede shivers at the overstimulation. The gentle care Ed is showing him is almost as intoxicating as the sex was.

Once he's satisfied with his work, Ed throws the rag on the floor next to their discarded clothes and climbs back into bed with him. Stede opens his arms for him, invites him to be held like Ed's been inviting him into his body all night.

Ed goes easily, tucks his head under Stede's chin and throws a leg over his to pull him closer. Stede wraps his arms around him happily, settles him comfortably with his weight resting half on top of him. The world has never been a better place than it is tonight.

He combs his fingers slowly through Ed's hair, the urge to touch him no less consuming after what they shared. Ed hums contented little noises against his skin, goes boneless in his arms.

His eyelids start to droop and he wants to say all the things Ed isn't ready to hear. I love you. I'm yours. Stay with me forever.

They will have time. The world is theirs for the taking, they can go at whatever pace Ed needs.

"Sweet dreams, Ed," is what he settles for instead.

"Night, Stede," Ed whispers back.

He falls asleep listening to Ed's soft breaths in the quiet room.

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #my fic #writing this took me out actually #i feel wrung out #please god let us have s3 so i can make them say i love you during sex and call each other pet names and do all the freaky things they want #i can't stand how this was everything i ever wanted and it also left me feeling starved for more

[monstercampus]

tell us abt the cursed knight plssss….. i need it <3

Oho! You'd like to know? 💕💕 ofc!

The Cursed Knight - First Meeting

(cws: violence, unnamed character deaths, implied self-pleasure)

The forbidden section of the library holds a vast array of strange tomes, both that belong to various staff members and kept there for safekeeping, as well as a large collection that have been procured on the Dean's behalf as part of a special project. He and his patron consider themselves book rescuers.....but not in the way humans would imagine, in which the texts are simply rare or expensive or they hold some kind of nostalgic value to the Dean. What they don't know is that some books, some very special books, house what can only be described as ancient, arcane portals within them; not for the use of transportation or viewing into another area of the world, but rather they're doorways into realms that don't exist on the same plane as the world at large. The stories contained within aren't just stories, the inked words bind that other world to the artifact and allow it to exist within the pages.....so long as it isn't destroyed, which is exactly what the Dean has sought to prevent. He's built up quite the collection with his patron, each story as intriguing and unique as the last, but of his collection there's one that's quite old indeed.

The Cursed Knight.

Simple lines across a book bound in purple covering, the front offering the feel of mossy stone as a hand passes over it. It's older than the Doctor, older than the Dean--it's a text that's narrowly avoided destruction by sheer luck alone. Falling off a cart full of tomes on the way to the bonfire, found pristine and undamaged in the ashes of a grand chapel, thrown back through a portal to the Underworld to crack open the skull of the human who sought to rid the world of it. It bears the title of "cursed" and yet it lives eternally, seemingly immortal when the matter of luck is brought into the equation.

The content of the book, however, is a topic that's highly debated. While many have heard tell of it very few have laid eyes on the pages, as the book lives and breathes as many portal-books do, and as it has a beating heart it also has emotions. It shakes itself out of the hands of ones it dislikes, floats over the heads of those that wish it harm, even bites those that try to pry open its pages by force. It obeys no will but its own and has such gained a reputation for being a bit unmagnanimous, even for a book. The details are scarce, but the general consensus on the core storyline remains quite similar.

In a very old realm, within a very strange kingdom, there lived a knight in service of the ruling royal family. Whether he was human or monster is debatable, but he was most certainly a very poor squire as he had only ill-fitting armour and a rusted sword with which to defend his kingdom. Despite this he was incredibly strong, however, and completed many feats for the king and queen over his years of service, which proved his worthiness to attain knighthood and gained him renown all over the realm. Some believe he fell deeply in love with someone within the royal family and wished to impress them, while others claim he was spurned by a tavern maid and fell into a deep sadness. Either way, his successes led him to search for something more, something to ensure he wouldn't ever feel the rejection of failure...which is what led him to sneak into the royal vault in the dead of night, and don the legendary armour that had been passed down through countless generations of the royal family. It would grant him the power to accomplish nearly anything, for it possessed a strength within it reserved only for those closest to the gods--but only those with noble blood could make use of it, and as the knight had been born and bred a commoner, the armour transformed him into something most unholy.

In the dead of night, wailing screams pierced the moonlit sky as the kingdom's beloved knight slaughtered his way through the castle like a madman out for blood. Uncontrollable fury overwhelmed his sword-arm and possessed him to kill all who stood in his way, innocent or criminal, commoner or noble, human or monster. After blood had been spilled within the castle walls and he had eliminated the last of the royal line, his rage was still not satiated and he continued into the town at its doorstep, unstoppable and cavernous in his grief as it swallowed him whole and left him hollow. Friends, fellows, admirers, family, all fell to his sword without hesitation, and even once the kingdom had grown quiet the bloodlust inside him still cried out for more carnage.

With nothing more to kill, the knight vanished into the horizon as the sun threatened to spill its rays over the land....and yet it did nothing but peek out and hide, as if the light itself feared the very possibility of the monstrous knight turning his fury towards it. The world grew dark since then, and the knight supposedly wanders the realm searching for more blood to calm the raging fire within his belly, tearstains rusting down the cheeks of the helm that forever conceals his true identity.

Though tragic the tale may sound, there are some who have claimed to read much different versions of the story, however. Some scholars--primarily humans in a similar age demographic to the knight--claim to have read a version of the tale in which the knight's act of donning the armour is given much less importance. Rather than focus on his trials, heroism, and subsequent corruption, they claim the book revealed pages detailing the knight's personal life instead; how he enjoyed reading and fishing in his spare time, that he had a dog he'd befriended and rescued from a pack of wolves, and that he was quite the avid bug collector and would make notes about the butterflies he would see on his daily patrols. They would read countless journal entries about the cats in the castle whose names he had memorized, and how he would sneak fish inside and feed them from his pouch to the dismay of the maids in charge of cleaning up after them. Some even say they would divulge into speaking about the knight's private activities, and would recount with warm faces about his daily routines in shockingly explicit detail.

As most monsters know, the portal books are living beings. They feel joy, they mourn, and above all they remember, as that is what they were created to do. And although the data on some of these rare tomes is expectedly conflicting, as the books get to decide what they divulge, there is only one way to explore the story with a completely unbiased narration--one would have to enter the portal itself into the written realm, a process that's so rare it's almost unbelievable in the eyes of those that haven't witnesed it themselves. One would have to be so adored by the living soul of the tome that they would be willing to bare their entire story to them, to risk hurting their beloved reader with the ugliness of the truth, and almost no self-respecting narrator would even consider such a sacrificial risk.....almost. But if there would be anyone that would be welcomed with such terms in mind, it would most certainly be a person so unlike their peers that they'd practically be an anomaly--just like the book that so desperately wishes for you to open it up.

#cursed knight #cursed knight x reader #monster boyfriend #neutral pov #monster campus introductions #monster campus #ellie writes #1k

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Sidetracked

Summary: Pavitr wants to know what's happening to his city. But somehow, he gets sidetracked along the way.

Consider this a potential opening to Beyond the Spider-Verse. I wanted to write something that sort of paralleled Gwen's opening scene in Across the Spider-Verse. Pavitr is my new favorite Spider and I wanted him to have more screen time, so I gave him some! I haven't written anything in a hot minute so please excuse any mistakes and I hope y'all enjoy! This story is also on my AO3 here.

Commission done by @ssuzu

Pavitr was left alone standing on the collapsed bridge. Hobie, Gwen, and Miles had left with Jess to speak with Miguel about the whole Spot situation. The black hole below him was engulfing his city, some Spiders were circled around it doing their best to contain…whatever it was. Pavitr wasn’t sure. He wasn’t given any answers as to what was happening before his team departed.

Maybe they can tell me what’s going on, Pavitr thought as he swung down to meet the other Spiders down below. Unfortunately, they didn’t have many answers to give him. “We’re going to try and contain this anomaly,” one of them said. “The canon was broken,” another said. “It’s too dangerous for you to be here, kid. Let us handle this,” yet another one said. Pavitr became frustrated and gave up asking them any more questions. He swung back up to the broken bridge and made sure everyone was clear of the damage. Luckily, everyone was safe. He realized then that the day was ending, it was almost dusk. He needed to get home; he knew Maya Auntie would be worried about him after today’s events.

He landed in the closest alleyway to his home and made sure no one was around before he changed back into Pavitr Prabhakar. Luckily it was dark enough now that he could easily hide in the shadows. Hurriedly stuffing his suit in his backpack, he ran up the stairs to his aunt’s apartment. Please be asleep, please be asleep, Pavitr thought to himself repeatedly moving as fast as his legs could carry him. Quietly, he opened the door to the apartment, the door squeaking as it opened.

Maya Auntie was nowhere in sight. Although, he did notice that the television was on. It was the news. He slowly turned the handle of the door and silently closed it behind him. He walked towards the television that had the ruined bridge on display in full view on the screen. Flashes of broken concrete, mangled vehicles, and torn cables. Pavitr had only been Spider-Man for six months, he had never yet dealt with damage on this scale before. It was a miracle that no one was hurt. If not for the others, he didn’t even want to think of how bad it could have been.

“This was the scene today after the destruction of the Alchemax building earlier this afternoon,” the news anchor reported. “The bridge had completely collapsed while hundreds of people were traveling in and out of the city. But thanks to the heroic efforts of Spider-Man and what appears to be other Spider heroes, no one was injured during this crisis.” A slight smile appeared across Pavitr’s face. He really did owe them everything. Especially Miles, the new guy that had saved Inspector Singh when he himself couldn’t. “Yes, everyone has been saved,” the man on the television continued, “but what has everyone concerned now is the massive black hole that has appeared in Mumbattan. What this is or where it came from is unknown, but we here at the station were told by authorities that everyone should stay clear of the area. Rescue teams have already been deployed to ensure everyone residing there is moved to a safer location…” The reporter continued but Pavitr had stopped listening. He was tired and the news reminding him of this anomaly only made his heart sink. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

He had stopped walking and looked down at the arm of the couch where the remote sat. He reached down to grab it, but realized someone’s head was resting on the arm as well. It was Maya Auntie. She must have fallen asleep waiting for him. He knew how lucky he was to have her watching over him. After losing his parents and his Uncle Bhim, she was the only real family he had left. He grabbed the remote and pressed the “OFF” button, the television humming softly. He put down the remote and knelt in front of his aunt and began to shake her ever so lightly.

“Hi Maya Auntie, I’m home,” Pavitr whispered. Maya inhaled slowly and opened her eyes to see her nephew staring at her softly.

“Pavitr,” she answered, “Thank goodness, you’re safe. Where have you been? There was a terrible accident in the city today, I was worried about you!” She sat up slowly as Pavitr stood up to help her off the couch. “I needed to know you were safe, I wanted to wait up for you, but I suppose I let myself drift off.” Her nephew leaned in and hugged her tightly.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” Pavitr replied. “I promise I’m okay. I wasn’t anywhere near that part of the city.” A twinge of guilt struck him. He felt bad lying to her, but he also felt as though he didn’t have a choice. He needed to keep her safe, that was his priority. He couldn’t stand losing one more person. His aunt smiled at him and yawned, her eyes growing heavy. “Let’s get you to bed,” Pavitr offered. He led her to her room and opened the door for her. “I’ll see you in the morning, Maya Auntie. Good night.”

She smiled and nodded to him. Pavitr closed the door and breathed a small sigh of relief. He stumbled off to his room and threw his backpack towards the foot of his bed. He plopped down on the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. He needed to go to sleep, it had been more than an exhausting day. A mysterious villain from another universe caused irreparable damage to his city, he nearly lost the love of his life, and now there was a terrifying dimension-tearing hole swallowing up Mumbattan.

Maybe being Spider-Man isn’t so easy, Pavitr thought to himself as he tossed and turned his bed, desperately trying to turn his brain off. It was no use though, there was too much happening, and he had no answers for anything. He stared blankly out of the open window next to his bed; it seemed so peaceful outside considering the chaos that ensued only a few hours ago. Pavitr decided he couldn’t be idle anymore, not for this. He needed to talk to Miguel.

Springing up from his bed, he grabbed his backpack and once again threw on his Spider-Man suit, grabbing his inter-dimensional watch in the process. Praying the Maya Auntie wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night and notice his disappearance, he leapt from the window and thwipped his web towards the closest structure. He decided drawing attention to himself in this case would not be ideal. Once he reached a high enough building, he began leaping from roof top to roof top, avoiding swinging through the streets when he could. He wanted to create as little disturbance as possible when traveling to another dimension, those portals that the watch created were not easily missed.

Pavitr stopped on a high apartment complex that looked over a good chunk of the city. Despite all the action that took place today, Mumbattan was bustling like it always does. Traffic as far as the eye could see, flashing lights, crowds of people going who knows where, but to Pavitr, it was home. His home. And he was going to protect it. He had to. Spider-Man had to. As he scanned the city below, something caught his eye when he looked below him. A single light was shining through an otherwise completely dark building. He noticed someone standing on the balcony, a young woman. She was leaning against the railing, arms sitting crossed on top of the bar. She looked familiar, really familiar…it almost looked like…

Gayatri! Pavitr thought before pulling himself away from the edge of the roof. Out of all the places, how could he have chosen the one place his girlfriend lived? He’s never actually been to her place before, on account of Gayatri and him trying to hide their relationship from her father. He did, however, know that she lived in this part of the city. Pavitr approached the edge of the roof again, looking down once more. She was still there, looking over the city as he had been moments before. He wanted so badly to leap down and give her another hug, just to make sure she was alright. But she didn’t know about his secret double life as a crime-fighting superhero, no one did.

He shook his head vigorously, trying to drown out his thoughts. No, no, no, he chastised himself, I CANNOT go down there right now. I can’t just swing down and greet her as Spider-Man! What would she…I mean, how would I…this isn’t…, Pavitr struggled to come up with a good enough reason to walk away right now. He couldn’t. The fact that she had almost perished today left his knees weak and his head spinning. He had to check on her. Ugh, fine! But just for a second. I can come up with some type of excuse…He tossed his bangle and wrapped it around the complex’s chimney. Ever so slowly, he reclined his web downwards until it was at the same level as Gayatri’s balcony.

“Uh, hi Miss,” Pavitr greeted her, waving sheepishly. Gayatri turned her head, her eyes widened as she jumped back slightly before realizing who it was hanging outside of her balcony. She exhaled and waved back, giving him a coy smile. She couldn’t tell, but Pavitr’s heart was almost beating out of his chest. Gayatri’s smile was so comforting and warm, it was his favorite thing about her. “May I, uh, join you for a second?” Pavitr asked. Gayatri nodded and shuffled over so he would have space to land. Using his legs for momentum, he swung himself onto her balcony and retracted his bangle, landing inches away from her. His breath hitched and he clenched his fists when he realized that he was towering over her. Oh, this was such a BAD idea, he thought. But for some reason, Gayatri didn’t seem confused or afraid, which was a better outcome than Pavitr expected. She seemed…relaxed somehow? Both stood there for a few seconds, wordless, but for them it felt like hours had already passed.

“So,” Gayatri finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Spider-Man? It’s a lucky thing that my father isn’t home yet.” Gayatri moved back from the hero in front of her and leaned her back on the opposite side of the railing where she was standing before, crossing her arms and letting out the slightest hint of a giggle.

“Oh, yes! Well, uh,” Pavitr started to say, rummaging around his head trying to rationalize why he came here in the first place. “I was, y’know, swinging through the city, as I do and…I happened to see you standing here on your balcony. And I recognized you from the bridge today, you were that young woman on that bus. I thought I would umm, check to see if you were alright.” Pavitr mirrored Gayatri’s stance, leaning on the opposite side of the balcony’s edge and folding his arms.

Gayatri chuckled, tucking one side of her hair behind her ear. “I’m alright, thanks to you. Do you always check up on the people you save or is it just the pretty girls?” she teased.

“No, no!” Pavitr stuttered, “I mean, no I don’t always check up on everyone! You are very pretty…WAIT NO, I didn’t mean that! I’m sorry! I MEAN, yes, you’re very pretty, beautiful even, but uh, I just happened to see you out here and I…I should be quiet now!” Pavitr threw his hands over his mouth; he felt his pulse pounding in his ear and sweat starting to form on his forehead. He was unraveling quickly.

Gayatri only shook her head and laughed. “You’re very kind, Spider-Man. It’s not everyday you make a superhero swoon.” 

Pavitr gulped. Something was off, he thought Gayatri would be flustered or even a little bit shy when she was face-to-face (sort of) with his hero persona. But no, it wasn’t like that at all. It was almost like she was…flirting with him? She couldn’t be, could she? Pavitr chuckled nervously, dragging his hand along the back of his neck. “Ha-ha, yeah. Well, I…I think I should get going. I’m glad you’re alright, Miss.” Before he could turn around and grab his bangle, he felt something grab his arm.

“Wait!” Gayatri nearly shouted. Pavitr remained frozen in place, his head telling him to leave but his heart telling him to stay. He chose the latter. Gayatri let his arm go once she realized he was staying put. “Sorry! I…I was wondering…” she continued, looking down at the ground and holding her one arm at her side. “You did save my life today, and your friends saved my father. I owe you more than I can ever repay. But…” she paused, “I can think of one thing I can give you that may convey my gratitude properly.”

Gayatri stepped closer to Pavitr until she was almost chest to chest with him. Pavitr remained motionless, tightly gripping the metal behind him. Tentatively, Gayatri lifted her hand towards the mask covering the boy’s face. She hooked her thumb under the fabric of the mask and looked back at him. Pavitr didn’t move, he couldn’t move, his limbs were frozen, and his voice disappeared. His breathing became shallow, he couldn’t even from a coherent thought. A small grin appeared on Gayatri’s face, slowly she began lifting his mask, finally revealing his lips. Without warning, Pavitr had snapped out of his trance and swiftly took hold of Gayatri’s hand.

“Wait,” he managed to choke out. Pavitr guided her hand down away from him but leaving his mask the way it was. “I’m…I’m flattered, really I am, but I…,” Pavitr trailed off, unable to finish his train of thought. Gayatri didn’t look sad or disappointed when he had stopped her just now, was she smiling?

“So, you’re saying you don’t want a kiss from your girlfriend, Pavi?” Gayatri questioned playfully, taking a few steps away from him.

“Wh…what did you call me?” Pavitr stammered. He stood on her balcony in complete and utter disbelief.

Gayatri only crossed her arms and laughed. “I know it’s you, Pavitr. It’s alright.”

There’s no way she knows, she’s bluffing, Pavitr tried to rationalize in his head. “I’m sorry Miss, you…you must have me confused with someone else! I’m not…”

“Pavitr Prabhakar,” Gayatri said, cutting him off. Her smile slowly faded as she placed her hands on her hips, “enough. Please.”

“I…I’m…” Pavitr stuttered, but it was no use. “I’m sorry.” He let out a deep sigh and reached for his mask. He grasped it and with one quick pull, it was gone. Gayatri hummed, finally seeing the face of the boy she knew was there the entire time. Pavitr remained still, looking down at the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at his girlfriend, a mixture of embarrassment and guilt flowing through him. “How did you know?” Pavitr asked softly, tightening his grip he had on the mask.

Gayatri walked back towards him, seemingly in slow motion, until she was inches away. She reached up and placed one hand on his shoulder and the other under his chin, tilting his head upwards so she could see his eyes. They looked tired, even a little sad. She stood up on her tip toes and planted a small peck on his cheek. His head quickly darted away from her again, doing his best to hide his fluster. His warm red cheeks, however, were not so easy to conceal. Gayatri only giggled and placed her other hand on his opposite shoulder. Instinctively, Pavitr reached down and put his hands around her waist, managing to give her a nervous smile. “You do know my father is a police inspector, right Pavi? I think I’m a little more than capable of putting some clues together. You never really disguise your voice at all, your build is hard to overlook, and especially your naturally perfect hair was a dead giveaway!” She took her hand and began to twirl his hair between her fingers. “I knew it was you for a while now.” Pavitr chuckled, wrapping both of his arms around her and pulling her as close to him as possible. Gayatri smiled warmly and hugged him back like she wanted to back on the bridge.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Gayatri,” he pulled away from her, leaving one hand on her hip and the other cupping her face, his thumbs drawing circles on her cheek. “I just thought…it would be too dangerous. You and Maya Auntie are the most important people to me. If you ever got hurt, if you were ever in any danger because of me…”, he couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought.

Gayatri took her hand and placed it on top of his own, relishing in his touch. “I know I’m safe as long as you’re here, Pavi. I trust you.”

Pavitr smiled. He felt like the luckiest boy in the world to have a girlfriend who is so genuine and caring. He took his hand off her hip and brought it to her other cheek, cupping her face in his hands. He leaned down, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips against hers. He felt her soft lips curve into a smile as she kissed him back, he didn’t want this moment to ever end. He pulled away from her slowly, staring into her beautiful brown eyes and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Y’know, if your father ever found out about this, he’d string me up by my own webs!” Pavitr quipped.

Gayatri let out a small chuckle, “Don’t worry about that, I at least know how to keep a secret!”

“Aagh!” Pavitr shouts, placing his hand over his heart, “your words cut so deep! How will I ever recover?!” All of a sudden, Pavitr arms shot out to grab Gayatri by her waist to lift her up in the air and began twirling her in a circle. Laughter escaped from both teenagers, echoing out into the night sky. It was a perfect moment. Almost.

Suddenly, a bright flash appeared across the way, on the rooftop directly in front of the couple. They looked at each other and back towards the now illuminated rooftop, they couldn’t tell what the source of the light could be. It started to take shape, forming rings of hexagons around it. A portal?, Pavitr thought to himself, but it didn’t look like the portals he had seen before. Normally, they were orange and yellow in color. But this one was flashier with a cacophony of different colors; it almost looked unstable. A few more seconds passed before a figure stepped through the portal. From what Pavitr could tell, this person was petite, they were wearing a hood and covered in mostly white. Then it hit him.

“Gwen!” Pavitr nearly shouted, waving to her vigorously. He turned to Gayatri, “It’s alright, she’s a friend, she’s a Spider like me! It’s kind of a long story, but she’s one of the Spiders helped me on the bridge today.” Gayatri smiled and nodded. They turned again to look at where Gwen was standing, but noticed two more figures had emerged from the portal. Pavitr recognized Hobie standing on the left of Gwen immediately. To her right was Peter, his baby Mayday in tow. His happy demeanor quickly shifted; something didn’t feel right.

Gayatri noticed the change in Pavitr’s expression. “Is something wrong, Pavi?”

“I’m not sure,” Pavitr admitted.

Gwen then launched herself over to them, landing perfectly and squatting on the balcony railing. She removed her mask, letting her hood fall behind her. Pavitr looked at her eyes, their bright blue color seemed dimmer somehow, almost drained, with dark circles underneath. She sighed and finally spoke.

“Pav, something’s happened,” she breathed. “It’s Miles, he’s in trouble. I thought I’d grab some friends to join my band.”

“Is Miles alright?” Pavitr asked worriedly.

Gwen sighed and looked away from him. “I’m not sure. I don’t know exactly where he is either, I just know he’s not where he’s supposed to be and that he needs all the help he can get. Are you in?”

Pavitr, still somewhat confused, nodded in determination. Miles saved Inspector Singh today as well as countless other lives; it was his turn to help him.

Gwen turned to Gayatri and stuck out her hand. “You must be Gayatri. I’m Gwen,” she greeted warmly. Gayatri mirrored her motion and shook her hand; Gwen had a stronger grip than she was prepared for. “Pav likes to talk about you a lot.”

“Gwen!” Pavitr scolded, making Gayatri laugh.

“We’ll bring him back in one piece, I promise,” Gwen told her. She turned to Pavitr, thwipping her web behind her in the process. “I’ll umm…give you two a moment.” With that, Gwen had flung herself back on top of the roof with the strange-looking portal.

Pavitr shifted towards Gayatri, holding her arms at her sides and leaning down ever so slightly. “I have to go,” he muttered. “Miles…he’s the one who saved your father today. If he needs help, I need to be there for him.”

Gayatri wrapped her arms around him and squeezed as tight as he could, Pavitr doing the same. “Go,” she whispered. “When you find Miles, please thank him for me.” Both of them let their arms drop down to their sides. “Please be safe.”

“Anything for you,” Pavitr agreed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead. Pavitr leaped onto the railing of the balcony and grabbed one of his bangles. He launched it over to where Gwen and the others were standing. He looked back at Gayatri one last time and smiled. “I’ll see you soon,” he assured her.

“You better,” Gayatri joked, “because I’m very interested in knowing what you’ve been saying to all of your friends about me!”

Pavitr laughed, having a small blush move across his face. “Only good things, of course.” Pavitr reached out his hand, Gayatri placing her own hand in it. He brought her hand up to his face, kissing it softly. “I love you, Gayatri Singh, and I always will.” Without another word, Pavitr launched himself to join the other members of Gwen’s band.

“Ready to go?”, Gwen asked him.

Pavitr looked back to the balcony, waving goodbye one last time to the girl of his dreams. “Yeah,” he boasted, “let’s do this!” The team walked through the portal, the light finally disappearing, leaving Gayatri alone in the night once more.

“I love you more, Pavitr Prabhakar.” Gayatri sighed.

#me #mine #my writing #fic #my fic #one shot #one shot fic #atsv #btsv #smatsv #smbtsv #spiderverse #across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #beyond the spider verse #beyond the spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #spider man india #gayatri singh #pavitr x gayatri #gwen stacy #spider gwen #maya auntie #ao3

[banterismylovelanguage]

If they were animals…

(Don’t. Don’t even ask where this idea came from…. Actually you totally can but anyway)

ALBEDO

Mouse. The reason for this is because I view Albedo’s storyline similar to that of a mouse test subject. Intelligent, used for experimentation, and quietly unassuming but capable of extreme destruction.

KAEYA

Fox… 100% because of the stereotype but then also because of the fact that he defies the stereotype. It’s just that he is expected to trick others by people like Diluc (and mostly only Diluc since he’s very helpful to everyone else). He just has that way of speech that makes him seem shadier than he is, and he’s probably willing to do things that even Jean isn’t in order to ensure Mondstadt’s safety. Resourceful creature.

JEAN

Golden retriever. Okay, this is getting specific, but how else do you describe the most loyal, most eager to help, most self-sacrificing lady in Mondstadt (okay, debatable, but she’s one of them for sure!). Plus, she probably melts like putty when shown the slightest amount of affection. She’s a big softie.

LISA

Surprisingly, not a fox… but a koala. She’s very low energy, and while for koalas it’s because of their diet, for Lisa I think it focuses on her conserving energy for fights (of which she even has a sort of languid style then, too). In this sense, you could think of her as a lion, but I feel koala is more suiting for her because she has a very approachable demeanor. Soft and… cuddly. Sure. Koalas enjoy the quiet, peaceful times, and this reminds me of Lisa’s tea time when we found her sitting by herself. Plus, she works in a library—is that not fitting for a quiet environment?

VENTI

Dolphin. Highly intelligent, friendly, quick, constantly moving creatures. Shown to be very helpful to humans when they’re in danger. Shown to like to be around humans. Curious creatures. Shown to be very like humans… see where I’m going with this?

(If you heard weird things about dolphins… doesn’t apply here. Wipe it from your mind.)

ZHONGLI

Elephant. Highly intelligent, protective, strong memory. I think one key feature of Zhongli is that memory, that and his geo indestructible abilities remind me of how impossible it is to move an elephant, thus…

TARTAGLIA

Hyena. Something about how a hyena’s laugh isn’t actually a very joyous sound, it’s actually terrifying most of the times you hear it, and the rough upbringing of hyenas in general reminds me a lot of Childe’s backstory and his current state of putting on his bloodthirsty front for a fight. It’s extremely concerning. The only thing that is hard to connect with these two is that a hyena typically fights in a pack while Childe is the lone type, and he seems to prefer it that way.

SHENHE

As a lot of artists depict, the snow leopard is so right for Shenhe’s personality. Elusive, solitary creatures that avoid confrontation not just with other cats, but also with humans!

YUN JIN

Rabbit. Not only because they’re very cute… from my experience with them—which isn’t much—they’re very sociable creatures that range from being a bit timid but also extremely silly depending on the circumstances. Kind of a generic animal to pick, but the strongest qualities that I think resonate Yun Jin for me are that they 1), like to keep their living quarters neat (screams Yun Jin to me who may have a messy quarter due to her busy life as a performer, but I like to think during her “free time” she enjoys cleaning up around her place), 2), are great pets for ‘quiet kids’/are also great at teaching kids patience, and 3), can absolutely be so dramatic in the ‘quietest’ way.

ROSARIA

Orca. One, I really like that the orca is also called the “killer whale” but are, in fact, very friendly towards humans. They’re terrifying in that they are larger than life creatures, and the way they play with their prey (seals in particular) is brutal, but their threat to a human is nonexistent. Two, mother orcas help their sons in particular survive, and while Rosaria is only a sister to Razor, I find this dynamic potentially reflective in that Rosaria is clearly older but also extremely protective of her brother, and I just like the thought of this big sis ready to kill for her only brother.

#i don’t even know man #hope you enjoy #rosaria #venti #childe #tartaglia #zhongli #yun jin #shenhe #genshin lisa #genshin jean #jean gunnhildr #lisa minci #kaeya #kaeya alberich #albedo #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #gotta have the silliest posts between the semi-serious posts you know

[sarcasmsweetie]

A Better Life, Part 1

This is an angsty Azriel story I've had floating around in my head for ages. I'm not sure how many parts this will be, but I anticipate at least 2 or 3 more parts to follow this!

Pairing: Azriel x Oldest Archeron Sister

Word count: 4.1k

Masterlist | Part 2

"Elain, I've brought tea. Do you think you can take a few sips for me?" I sat the teapot and cup on the side table next to her before gently stroking some hair out of her face. She hasn't been taking to this new life of ours very well, closing herself off and refusing to eat. But I have managed to get her to drink tea, ensuring she gets some sort of nutrients and calories into her system. I hope to move onto broth soon, but I don't want to push too hard, risking a regression on her behalf.

If it weren't for my hand already playing with her hair, I never would have noticed the faint nod she gave me before reaching for the cup. I was happy to sit in silence with her so long as she consumed something. I continued stroking her hair, remembering how much she enjoyed it when we were younger and how it would keep her calm, especially when life got hard after our family moved into that little shack. She has yet to show any sign of wanting me to stop, so I continued to stand behind her chair, looking out of the window with her while she slowly drank her tea.

Some moments passed before she set the cup down. A quick glance showed me she emptied it, and I smiled slightly at the sight. “Let me know if you want a refill, yes?” Another faint nod and we went back to watching the outdoor world in silence. She’s always been fond of flowers and plants, and this view showcased one of the most beautiful gardens I had ever seen. I was hopeful this view was helpful to her mental state and that she simply didn’t just keep coming here because she knew where this room was.

I was taking a mental inventory of flowers I didn’t recognize so I could look them up later, thinking maybe sharing some new facts about the plant-life in this new world would cheer her up some, when the door opened. I glanced over to Azriel, noticing his eyes flick between the two of us before being trained directly on Elain. Something in my chest twisted when our eyes met before feeling something I could only describe as a “click.” I wasn’t entirely sure what was happening - all I knew was that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the Illyrian male. He was always attractive, but seeing him with my new fae senses? He was the most breathtaking creature I have ever seen.

Since I was watching him so closely, I noticed that his eyes widened slightly when I felt the ‘click’ before a small smile appeared on his face. He approached Elain slowly, kneeling beside her. “Can I get you anything?” I was getting ready to respond, saying I’ve got my sister taken care of, before the most surprising thing happened.

She turned to him, doe eyes meeting his beautiful hazel ones, before quietly asking for more tea.

I shook my head, clearing away that horrid memory from six months ago. A lot has changed since then. The war ended and those in the Inner Circle have been working with other courts on retaining peace. Nesta continued to struggle for a long while after the war, but with the help of Feyre and Cassian, she sort of fell into her new role. Still a bit angry, understandably so, but less destructive and that’s more than I could ask for. Once it became clear that Elain was a Seer and not crazy, she has been flourishing. Gardening her days away with the brightest smile on her face. A smile that could mainly be attributed to a certain male. I shut down that train of thought the moment it entered my mind. Thinking of them together hurt in ways I never thought possible, and I didn’t enjoy that particular thought breaking through the numbness I built.

After some investigating, it became clear to me that Azriel was my mate. Our bond having clicked into place that day in the study, but it appears I’m not even good enough for my own soul mate as he has only had eyes for Elain from the moment it clicked.

I spoke to Rhys and Feyre a few different times, under the guise of general curiosity about what a bond is like. They confirmed what I initially felt that day, but that it feels different for them given that they chose to accept the bond and have been incredibly happy ever since. I asked Rhys once, about a month after the bond clicked, what it meant for a fae who was rejected by their mate. I pretended I was asking about Lucien since my sister made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him, and wanted to see if he believed this rejected bond could have been playing at all into her depression. I’ll never forget the sad look that passed his eyes, saying that Lucien will forever feel incomplete. That there would be a gaping hole in his chest that couldn’t be filled. He’ll learn how to live with that feeling, maybe have days where he doesn’t think about it at all. But unless Elain accepts the bond, he’ll only ever feel an unrequited love of the most severe kind. He mentioned he didn’t think Elain rejecting the bond would impact her on this scale and that everything she was feeling was solely related to her lost life.

I thanked Rhys for the information, and I remember saying something vague about wanting to send Lucien a gift of some kind, something to show he wasn’t alone in this world and that he has friends if he chooses to accept us. But I walked away from Rhys, shutting down the rest of that conversation and locked myself in my room where I cried for the rest of the night. When I woke the next morning, I found that I didn’t feel anything at all. And for the last five months, I’ve continued to live in this sort of numbness. Seeing Feyre happy and finally living the life she’s deserved? Nothing. Watching Nesta tamper her anger and accepting the possibilities this world, and maybe even Cassian, offered her? Nothing. Watching Elain flirt and laugh with Azriel as if they were mated? For better or for worse, nothing.

Through all of this, what should have upset me was that no one noticed my own decline. I spent my entire life raising and caring for my sisters, knowing them better than anything else in this world. I knew when they would start to feel sick before they even knew, and began prepping various soups and collecting medicines to help. I sensed when a disagreement was about to break into all-out war and knew how to diffuse it immediately. Even when we had nothing, I organized birthday parties to celebrate our life and enjoy everything we were able to hold onto and make ourselves.

It was today, on my 29th birthday, that I realized I never had a birthday party. No one ever baked me a cake or brought me a present. Feyre would hug me, but given how much she hated her own birthday, she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge anyone’s birthday further than that. And it was this year’s hug that caused this internal spiral of mine. We had all just finished eating in the House of Wind and everyone was moving their way into the living room when she pulled me to the side. Didn’t say anything to me, just pulled me into a tight hug before walking away with a small smile on her face.

I stood in the entryway for a moment, letting all of my thoughts catch up to me, before Cassian’s booming voice called for me to join them. I moved quietly to the armchair closest to me, and it allowed me to look at everyone as they settled into their own spaces.

Amren was perched on Varian’s lap, and it was clear that they had zero intention of staying around us for much longer. Mor, Cassian, and Nesta shared a sofa nearest the fireplace. Mor and Cassian were talking about who knows what over a glass of wine while Nesta pretended she wasn’t listening in as she sipped on her own glass. Feyre had moved next to Rhys, where she sat on the arm of his chair, leaning against his shoulder as she tried to get caught up on what Mor and Cassian were discussing. Finally, I glanced over at Elain and Azriel, whispering to each other in soft tones while they sat on the loveseat. How fitting. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Azriel said something that made her giggle before biting her lip and looking up to him.

I tried to pull up some sort of anger, some disappointment, in an attempt to finally break away from this cold detachment. No matter how long I watched them, hoping the longer I watched, the more this ice would thaw, nothing changed. I no longer imagined what it would be like to be the one sitting with him, to be the one who made him laugh and his bright hazel eyes shine. I no longer imagined what it would be like to be the one who was loved by him, who was accepted by him. All there was now was just a hollowness in the center of my chest.

I don’t know how long I watched them whisper and laugh, but I eventually tore my eyes away only to see Feyre watching me with such strong sorrow. I continued looking at her, almost daring her to say something. But like every other moment in life where I would have appreciated someone stepping in on my behalf, she looked down at the glass of wine she held. It occurred to me that no one offered me a glass, and that’s when my decision was made.

Cassian was telling some story and when everyone broke out in laughter, I used the distraction to slip out of my chair and move my way to my room. I kept the door slightly open behind me so that I could keep track of when they all started to quiet down and settle in for the night. Keeping one ear trained on the door, I began packing a bag with all of my meager belongings. I didn't have many toiletries to pack as it turns out I had no one to impress. Most of my clothes had become far too big on me, and I never bothered to replace any of them. Falling into this numbness meant I no longer felt much of an appetite. Even tonight, with everyone in attendance, no one noticed that I simply pushed the food around my plate for the duration of the meal.

Once everything I wanted to take with me was packed, I pulled a coin purse from my bedside table. I had slowly been withdrawing funds from the account Rhys set up for me. I doubt anyone kept track of something as small as the account he created, but I figured since no one reached out asking about what I was purchasing with what I took, no one noticed that I took almost everything. I fully intend to pay Rhys back for this, but for now, it’s the only way I can leave and settle down somewhere else.

Feeling a need to explain myself, I wrote Feyre a letter. I felt I owed her something considering everything she and her mate were willing to share with me in order to help transition me into this new life. I briefly considered writing Nesta and Elain, but if they weren’t going to give me the time of day, I’ll allow myself to be petty enough to do the same. Once the letter was done, I sat back at my desk, waiting for the house to finally go quiet.

It took a few hours, as I expected it to. Once 30 minutes passed since the last voice quieted, I grabbed my bag, confirmed the coin purse was inside, and made my way to the front door. Walking silently along the corridor, I noticed Cassian had passed out in the living room along with Mor, but everyone else had gone to bed. I opened and closed the front door as silently as possible, not wanting to alert the two closest to me of my departure. Once the door was shut, I winnowed away. ___________

Feyre sat in the dining room and looked over her family with a fond smile. She noticed no one had a glass of wine with their dinners and she bit back a laugh. Once Cassian got in the mood, no one could escape his need to break into every bottle of wine he could see, and it appears everyone lost their taste for the beverage this evening. She made eye contact with Rhys, and he winked at her, most likely noticing the same thing she did.

Cassian, Amren, and Mor were arguing about who knows what, while Varian watched on with interest. Azriel was smiling as Elain described her latest garden plans and Feyre felt her heart lurch. Y/N never confided in her about what she felt for the Spymaster, but it wasn’t too hard to figure out, especially given the questions she had asked her and Rhys about mating bonds. Rhys shared the topic of his private conversation with Y/N about rejected bonds as he was concerned, but still Feyre didn’t bring it up. Her sister’s mating bond wasn’t her story to tell, though she did what she could in asking Azriel and Elain to cool off each other. Clearly that didn’t work as it only pushed them closer together. Feyre had an inkling that Azriel didn’t know about the bond with Y/N, that he wouldn’t be so heartless as to push her away like this if he felt it. However, knowing that didn’t help calm the growing concern she had for her eldest sister.

She turned her gaze to Y/N's normal spot, only to frown when she found it empty. “Has anyone seen Y/N today?” The table quieted down, everyone looking at the empty chair that caught Feyre’s attention as if they were all realizing at the same time the oldest Archeron wasn’t in attendance.

“I’m sure she’s fine. Probably realized there’s no need to come down to a meal and pretend to eat if she’s just going to sit around ignoring her food anyways.” Elain shrugged and Feyre felt a glare sharpen into place.

“How kind of you, as her sister, to notice she’s starving herself and do nothing about it, whereas she fought tooth and nail to ensure you consumed something every day when you were in the pit of your depression a few months ago,” Mor snarled. Before Azriel could jump in and defend Elain, Feyre interrupted.

“So no one has seen her, checked in on her?” At the silence that fell upon the table, a feeling of despair fell into her stomach like a rock. She quickly stood from the table and ran to Y/N's room. Surely she wouldn’t hurt herself, right? Feyre knows things haven’t been easy on her, and she felt guilty she didn’t do much to try and show that Y/N wasn’t alone. But she was just so busy in rebuilding that she assumed one of her other sisters or members of the Inner Circle would have been checking in on Y/N just as Y/N always checked in on them.

Y/N's bedroom door was open so Feyre didn’t hesitate to run in. “Y/N? Are you here?” She looked around the room and bathroom, noticing it was missing both her sister and quite a few of her belongings. A folded piece of paper with Feyre’s name on it caught her attention, and she grabbed it quickly. Tears forming and threatening to fall, Feyre stormed back into the dining room where it sounded like everyone was trying to retrace their steps as to when they last saw Y/N. From what Feyre heard, it doesn’t even sound like they knew she sat in the living room with them once they finished eating.

“Darling? Is she alright? What happened?” Feyre ignored her mate in favor of throwing the letter at Nesta, who was closest to her. The only sign of Nesta being startled by Feyre’s aggression was a quick blink.

“Read it.” Nesta looked up at Feyre, confusion evident in her eyes, but her facial expression otherwise kept neutral.

“Stop with the theatrics, Feyre, and just tell us -”

“Read the fucking letter, Nesta. Out loud.” Nesta straightened in her seat before grabbing the letter.

“Feyre, I’m sorry to leave in the middle o-” Nesta’s brows furrowed, and she cleared her throat before starting again. “I’m sorry to leave in the middle of the night without giving a proper goodbye. But I know myself well enough that if you asked me to stay, I would in a heartbeat, regardless of what your home is doing to me.

I love you, Feyre, but I can no longer stay in a place where I’m not welcomed, where I’m not wanted. Since the moment I was Made, I’ve felt my soul crack and break more and more each day. I allowed myself to grow numb to it in an attempt to save myself from the pain so that I could stay with you, sister.

However, I fear that staying will only make this numbness permanent. I’ve always been willing to fight and give every piece of myself to ensure my sisters were happy and safe, and I had foolishly believed my sisters would do the same for me. Sadly, I find myself with nothing left to give and no one willing to fight for me as I have fought for them.

I want to thank you and Rhys for the room you’ve given me these last few months. It was the kindest thing I remember anyone having done for me lately, and I am eternally grateful to you for that. I also want to thank Rhys for the funds he set up for me. I wish I didn’t have to, but I withdrew enough to help me get out of this Court. When I am able to, I will pay everything back. Until then, please don’t look for me. I will be fine." Nesta paused, but Feyre wouldn’t let her, urging her to keep reading.

"It’s funny. Even when I spent time with my sisters, I was never really with any of you, was I? Surrounded by everyone and I was still on my own. Maybe being away will finally give me the opportunity to discover who I am. I wish I could have learned it with all of you as you discovered who you were, but I suppose fate had something else in mind for me.

I’m so proud of you, Feyre. You’ve finally found yourself the life you deserve, and I am so happy for you and Rhys to have each other, to be able to live your best and most wonderful lives. I hoped to find that happiness here, and I am so sorry it didn’t work out that way.

I’ll write to you once I find a place I can settle down, a place I can finally call home. I don’t think I can bring myself to come to your city again, but I hope that when the time comes, you and Rhys would be willing to visit me. Whenever and wherever that may be.

Until next time, little dove. Y/N”

The room was silent as everyone absorbed the words Nesta read. Rhys watched his mate, trying to get a sense of where her thoughts were, but unable to read her. Azriel, Elain, and Cassian were looking at Nesta with shock written on their faces. Mor looked furious, but it was Amren who spoke up.

“What else did you expect? You’ve treated your sister like shit since the moment you arrived, and I’m certain that’s not new behavior. Wouldn’t be surprised if she spent her entire life dealing with your ungrateful asses.” She began pushing the food around her plate like she used to before the war turned her entirely fae, a sign that she was genuinely upset.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, but you know nothing of my sister -” Elain began.

“Clearly, neither did you. She’s been withering away for months and you all just sat back and let it happen. Sure, Feyre would check in whenever she had a free moment, but a free moment wasn’t enough, was it? The support and concern of only one of her sisters wasn’t enough, was it? She said it herself - she gave her life to all of you and received nothing for it. Goes to show what she thinks of you and Nesta considering she didn’t even mention you in her letter or write a separate note for either of you.” Everyone stared at Amren, but Mor nodded in agreement.

“I know better than anyone that even family can be toxic and detrimental to your health. Good for her for getting out and doing what’s right for her.” Elain tried to continue arguing with Mor and Amren, mentioning things about how selfish Y/N is for leaving, but Feyre couldn’t stay here. She felt Rhys reach out to her through the bond, but not even her mate could ease the guilt that was threatening to drown her. The guilt of not trying to do more, the shame that she couldn’t trust her family to look after one of their own.

Feyre watched as Rhys stood from his seat. “I’ll go write to the High Lords, let them know what’s going on.”

“Yes! Tell them to find her and drag her back home. I don’t know what she was thinking -” Rhys looked at Elain with such unrestrained rage that she shut up immediately, paling slightly.

“I am not writing to them to ask them to ‘drag her back home.’ She made it clear she wants nothing to do with Velaris, with this Court, and we will respect that. I’m writing to them to ask for their permission to let her pass through their courts. Unless you want your broken oldest sister to have an even shittier time by being arrested and thrown into a cell for trespassing.” Elain stormed from the room and Feyre watched Amren roll her eyes.

Cassian stood and moved to Rhys. “I’ll help deliver the letters once they’re ready. Az, how about you?” Everyone watched as Azriel looked between his brothers and where Elain ran off to, unable to move or say anything. Cassian scoffed at him. “Great, I’ll take care of this myself. Let’s go Rhys. She’s got almost a full 24 hours ahead of us. Who knows where she could be right now or who she could have run into. Do you think she's moving on foot? Can she even winnow?"

Feyre followed Cassian and Rhys out of the dining room, leaving Mor and Amren to scold Azriel for not being able to do anything while Nesta continued to look at her older sister’s letter. Of course Nesta noticed what was happening to her sister. But she didn’t know how to comfort. Only how to ignore and hope that it builds a stronger shield. Not the best course of action, but it was no secret to her sisters. She had also noticed that Y/N shut down the moment Azriel and Elain began to grow closer. I hoped to find that happiness here.

Nesta released a humorless laugh, and that cut off whatever discussions were going around her. “Here’s to you finding the life you deserve, sister.” She set the letter on the table before standing. Looking at Azriel, she scowled. “She certainly deserves better than anyone in this Court.”

#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #acotar #bri's writing

[vaehbae]

Peace. Quiet. Calm.

Ezra Bridger could only have dreamed of such things during his time as both an orphan, and during his time in the Rebellion. He may have experienced some of it while isolated on Peridea, but this was something he preferred more.

The view of Lothal's capital city was something that literally came from a dream. He remembered first seeing it vividly alongside the spirits of his late parents during the night he learned of their deaths. However, the dream became a reality.

The galaxy was indeed shaken following Thrawn's return, but over the past few months, the tactical genius was no match for the stubborn will of New Republic military officials, and the famous Heroes of Endor, whom with joined hands of the Heroes of Lothal, turned the tables and put Imperial Remnants to route once again.

Regardless if there was nothing safe or sacred, it was a much deserved moment of relief Ezra wished he had earned earlier. For all the strife, fighting, and death that had to resume over the desire of totalitarian madmen who wanted to reclaim control over the galaxy and restart their ideas of suffering, the best thing he could do was live for all the good people that were lost. And for a very important reason...

He had been entranced by the shining and bustling beauty of the previously envisioned city when Sabine Wren -- his wife joined his side on the balcony. In her arms, the artistically destructive Mandalorian held a still bundle in her arms. Their ninetine month old daughter, Mira Wren-Bridger.

"Everytime I see you come out here, it's like you're always distracted by something that isn't even calling your name." She quipped. Sabine sure knew how to deliver sassy remarks, even after her life changed through marriage and motherhood.

"It's a good sight to go to sleep to." Ezra replied innocently, giving off a small chuckle when he felt his longtime best friend elbow him on the side.

"Well, I don't blame ya. I remember you mentioned seeing this after realizing what happened to your parents."

In the past, Ezra would have felt a tang of pain hit his heart about such a cruel and unfair reminder, no matter the wording, but he knew he was no longer the only one to have lost family after Sabine vented to him about her Clan getting slaughtered on Mandalore.

"It's not just that anymore."

Sabine looked over at him with a questioning gaze at his comment, making sure she still maintained a fair grip on little Mira in her arms, and so that the baby would not be awaken and make a fuss.

"We've made it happen, Sabine. All of us. I know deep down, my mom and dad would've been proud to see this. Right now, however, I just don't think I could ever thank you guys enough for helping to achieve this."

"As a Mandalorian, I don't take even the smallest of promises lightly. And as much as it's exhausting to bring up... you were counting on me at the same time."

That phrase had become very synonymous with Ezra's faith in his longtime best friend, and he already knew that when she brought him home, her promise had been fulfilled. There was truly no better person than Sabine that he could ask to ensure such things were sought through to the end, and he would never have it any other way.

"And you've kept your promise, Sabine. Thank you." He told her, turning his head to meet her gaze as his lips curled up to a warm smile. That smile was shared as they kissed briefly, before finally retiring inside their tower for a good night's rest.

Ezra was still unsure what new challenges awaited him for the future, but with Sabine by his side, he felt more at ease and ready to face them head on.

It felt like I just had ASMR cleanse over my brain cells reading this. It was so nice and welcoming oh my goodness. All the stress of the final episode just washed over me with this beauty!

Thank you for submitting! Genuine, It's the perfect amount of everything but not too overwhelming and so freaking cute!

#ezra bridger #sabine wren #ahsoka series #star wars rebels #sabezra #ezrabine #ask fic #fanfic share #fanfic #shipping #rebels sabine #ezra x sabine #calm vibes #relaxing #beautful #writting share

[sketchfanda]

Chestnut Stud Across the Multiverse: Mayday Mayhem

It was always just all too easy, that’s what she thinks to herself any and everytime when it came to this. She was Verosika Fuck-Mothering Mayday and if all the world is a stage, then she pretty much owned it and ruled it with a golden molasses voice and and iron fist as she found herself performing at her latest live concert. Soon as she began to sing and dance, they were like putty in the palm of her hand, all eyes on hers as she secretly worked her succubus magic on the crowd. Her personal posse working their way among the masses To take advantage of the skyrocketing arousal among men and women within the sea of humanity. Having their wicked erotic way as they fed on their energy, relishing the raw lust and sexual desire, for her and her succu-bitches it was a regular all you can eat buffet at her live shows. Oh sure she could stroke her go easy enough with page view counters reaching six plus figure digits with her outrageously porn quality music videos but nothing beat this sensation ever. Her human form shimmering like a mirage between itself her actual succubus form, what most of the crowd saw in their sensual haze as just tricks of the light from the stage and a mix of whatever narcotics and booze they somfolloshly helped themselves to. All the same to her it couldn’t be topped by anything not even her rehab worthy levels of fondness for heavy demonic liquor, as she sung her siren song and danced her sexy bombshell form which was easily showed off her hellbender genetically gifted figure. Her posse making her proud as can be as they mixed and mingled with fans,man and woman alike. It was child’s play with all those hormones and all,a little succubus pheromone magic and her succu-bitches would eat more than well.

Kiki had rounded herself up enough meatheads for a gangbang, leading that herd of bulls somewhere nice and cozy for them to enjoy her petite sexy frame. Milky that ever so kinky shortstack of course bagged herself a real prize with some behemoth muscle tank. Who looked like he really wanted to rock that delicious little booty of hers, while the horny kinky couple of Coco and Apple had found themselves a pair of guys and their girlfriends that were quite a couple of lookers which more than ensured a good time for all. Verosika herself of course knew she would be able to have more than her of the litter but what would she even be in the mood for? A gangbang or a threesome perhaps? Until she noticed something out of the corner of her eyes as she saw….him, again? Seriously why the hell did that guy somehow draw in her attention? It boggles her mind ever since she planned out this concert at Satan City, Tex had some plans with his girlfriend and it wasn’t like he could cancel them just to play roadie and security like usual. After all Bee wasn’t someone You changed plans so of course it just took a little succubus magic to get the mayor to provide some local 50 for some protection. Just a couple of badges to keep the rowdier horn dogs at bay and look the other way in exchange for a few sexual favours. And for some infernal reason that pencil pushing political bureaucrat only provided one!! And he was as runty as that imp that worked for her self destructive pain the ass clown ex!! Some five foot little bald shorty who looked like the sort of dweeb meatheads in highschool roughed up for lunch money before shoving them into lockers. But somehow he was doing a more than alright job and…christ he wasn’t showing it much but the amount of arousal energy coming off of him was delicious!! It made the succubus popstar’s thighs become wet and sticky with arousal as she could smell and taste it. It was like the sweetest candy she had ever eaten and fuck did she want more…

But damnit what was it about this guy? He was just some runt who could pass off as a generic face in the crowd and yet he was giving off enough sexual energy to make her feel like a bitch in heat. She hadn’t felt this horny since that time she peeped on that aforementioned shorty imp and his wife going at it like a couple of rabbits, Christ that had been a major round of voyeurism that had made her want to join in. But the succubus diva knew she had to do something about this itch sooner or later and the best means of sorting out was to confront the source of her problem and nip it in the bud. If this…Krillin was his name? She thinks so as she recalled but yeah this Krillin guy was the cause of her libido going haywire so it was only natural he be made to settle it the only way a guy like him should. Finishing her set as she called for intermission, leaving the crowd to vent their horny urges brought about her sex demon charisma and let her posse enjoy their Funtime with their chosen prey. Dropping the mic as she strode over to Krillin, who was looking pretty sharp in the black security shirt and jeans as she grabbed him by the collar, shocking and confusing him. “Uhm ms.Mayday something wrong? You seem kind of frustrated….” He enquired as Verosika didn’t answer, throwing him into her dressing room as she shut and and locked the door behind her. Turning to glare at the compact dude who had managed to stumble and fall into sitting on the couch as he was naturally a little confused and concerned. “Seriously I dunno if I’d done or said anything to offend but…” his words hit a pause mid sentence as the currently in human disguise succubus ditched her coat,her dark skinned face both scary to behold yet so so sensual in its beauty. It kind of reminded him of his wife in all her scary sexy glory whenever she got that look that made it clear she was horny and down to fuck.

Before he knew it, where once there stood a dark skinned blonde pink highlighted hot piece of ass now stood a version of her that was like sex ooh legs right out of hell itself. Her thicc and curvy bombshell form now rocking a wild waterfall mane of Snow White hair with a reddish hued pink body and sinister,sensual glowing yellow eyes. Her mouth spread in a leering grin of sharp shark like teeth, her bat style wings unfurling, horns gleaming and inverted heart shape tipped tail swaying as sh stalked with a predatory manner towards the compact officer. Making him gulp as she unzipped the back of her dress and let it fall right off of her sexy self, letting it pool on the floor as her heels clicked and clicked. Flicking her tongue snake like as she rests a hand atop his head, taking delight in his reaction  to her naked demonic body in all its sexiness.Purring sensually as she replied. “Not anything you did wrong little man...but really something more you could do for me...do it right and well...scratch my back? And I scratch yours...” Her sharp teeth gleaming as she pressed her tits up close against his pecks, making him plant his head between the cleavage as her free hand trailed down along the buttons of his uniform shirt. Undoing them and prying them as she peeled his shirt off, exposiing quite the physique as her fingertips and palms ran along those sculpted muscles. Her purr deepening as she came to the crotch of his pants and cupped it to get a feel of the prize contained within. Quirking a brow as she blinked at least 3 times as she gave it a bit of a squeeze and caress. Eyes widening slightly and silently gasping as she could pick up a hint of the length snd girth. Krillin shuddered and moaned all the while unable to do much else but let the sensual succubus have her way as she felt him up. No doubt having a hard time trying to determine if this was for real as she got off of his lap and grasped the waistband of his pants and boxers. Tugging them down in one go down to his knees when she felt something suddenly smack her with an uppercut.

Shaking the cobwebs out of her head, she turned to see a sight that made her widen her eyes and drop her jaw. Mouth salivating but outdone by the raw,sloppy gushing of her pussy. Nectar flowing down on the floor into a growing puddle as it rained with arousal. ‘‘No fucking way…” she pretty much said to herself as she beheld the biggest cock she’d ever seen in her life. It’s raw length and girth a status of its owner’s no doubt potent virlity, as it twitched and pulsed with desire. She’d not seen hellhounds and incubus with half this size and in terms of imps, there was sweet little married sweetheart who worked for her ex’s killer for hire firm. And this thing was some major heavy competition, that was for sure, as she grasped and began to stroke that shaft. Slow and steady at first but her pace increasing as a generous dose of ore flowed forth. Her fingers and palms becoming slick as she lubed up that cock, soon planting her lips on it as she proceeded to assault it from tip to base with licks and kisses. Marking it with kiss marks even on balls as she was proceeding to conduct fellatio, bobbing her head away as she felt her jaw practically unhinge and dislocate itself. She had experience with big cocks before but this guy was in a class and league all of his own as she practically suffocated herself to deepthroat him. Neck swelling with the bulge of his length and girth as his groans were music to her ears. Her oral magic as her tongue wrapped and constricted around his dick wearing down any hesitation and resistance in his end as she found him grasping her horns, muscles flexing and then suddenly, he began! Hips pumping and thrusting as the pop star succubus found her shortstack security for hire delivering her a vigorous facefuck.

And oh how she was loving it,as glowing pink hesrts began to form in her eyes from the experience. It was always often too easy to be the top in her encounters. To dominate and arouse any easy stud or lay she set her sights on. But this little man wasn’t some doormat sun,oh no this was an absolute unit of a man right here. His heavy balls smacking her chin as it swung with the momentum of his pistoning. Practically using her like some sort of onahole for his pleasure, her mouth feeling a preview of what ehr oussy woild no doubt come to experience and relish, drool spluttering as her hands slithered down along her curvy sexy form right down to her sloppy,wet pussy. Fingers plunging as she shamelessly played with herself. Her slit being probed and prodded as she was soon radiating an aura of glowing pink hearts her succubus pheromones flooding the room as it filled with a violet and pink tinted lighting of sorts. As if her very arousal was flooding the room like  a gas, with the intent of further turning the little man on. Which had a domino affect as like a gas it began to flow and pour into the vents of the building hosting her concert. If she had t worked this venue over enough before hand, this was like having the volume dialled up which of course served to make things plenty more fun for her entourage of course as they were busy with their own fun times. Which would in turn make their own sexy demon pheromones go off like time bombs, turning this venue into s pornographic ground zero.

Kiki had been certainly  milking her gangbang like clockwork but her delight turned to ecstasy. Her tight little bubble butt bouncing as she rode one guy whole another jackhammered her ass. A third holding her horns as he facefucked her while she had a cock in each hand. Others waiting around for their turn as they vigorously stroked and jerked off, awaiting their turn as the room they occupied filled with grunts and moans. Milky meanwhile found herself in heaven as her big muscle tank she singled out for herself was giving it to her fast,deep and hard. Her arms wrapped around his his powerful shoulders as his hands grasped and squeezed her meaty shortstack booty, making her bounce and ride on his own quite generous lengthy fuckrod. Tongue dancing with his in a sloppy kiss as she found herself falling white deep in love. A rare one in a hundred sort of thing for a succubus like herself but seems it was a lucky day for her today. And she felt like she had just hit the jackpot and won a goddamn lottery. Coco and Apple meantime had themselves quite a time with the two pairs they picked up, having themselves a wild time of swinging and partner swapping. Either riding or sitting on one of the two dudes’ cocks or faces while their girlfriends had the opposite,making out with the sexy cuties shamelessly with lusty abandon. All through the venue was an orgy throughout with 5 succubus worth of sexual pheromones flowing like a fog machine and further intensifying the wave of sexual pleasure throughout, like a warped pornographic feedback loop. If this concert had been televised, there was no doubt the censors world be testing their hair out and concerned parents feeling absolutely scandalised at such debauchery to even be occurring on screens. And this was all just during the concert intermission!! If anyone had enough sense and control of faculties right now, there was no doubt they’d streaming and posting about this on social media, making for a trending field day. But all anyone would have after this no doubt is hazy memories, like some far off one off dream they had that they could scarcely recall. It would ensure this concert would go down in history with a bit of infamy and notoriety to the ever ongoing legend of Verosika Mayday.

Naturally this erotic feedback loop of pheromonal ectasy was making its way back to the source herself who had gone and taken things to the next level. If there was certainly an equivalent to Heaven or what could pass for it for a succubus like herself, there was no doubt she’d found it and had achieved a sexual nirvana. The snowhaired succu-bitch making out with Krillin, their tongues mashing together in a sloppy open air dance as she straddled his lap. Fat pink/crimson booty bouncing and clapping with the thunderous rhythm of a bongo drum as he pumped and thurst into her hot,wet slit. Stretching those inner walls as the fleshy tunnel of muscles squeezed and massaged his shaft with a passionate embrace before she grabbed his head, making him rub and motorboat in between the valley of her cleavage. It was natural for a sex demon like herself to get horny but she’d never felt like a bitch in heat before except for that Moxxie guy. This chromedome was more than proving he not only had the size but knew damn well how to use it!! Gasping with delight as she found the short king getting up from his seat on the couch, hands grabbing a firm hold of her booty as he kissed and licked along her neck. Verosika feeling the stream of continuous orgasms hit her one after the other, long snake like tongue sticking out like an animal as her face bore an ahegao expression in response to Krillin commencing with this stunning vertical fuck. Tail wagging,her wingspan spreading as she soon found herself pinned up against the wall. Legs wrapping around the compact stud’s waist as she caressed his muscles,feeling them flex as the angle and trajectory of their postion deepened the reach and depth of his penetration. Her stomach bulging from the absolute unit that was his length and girth, those glorious heavy balls of his smacking the outer rim of her netherlips as her juices splashed and rained down on the floor with every impact to add to the growing puddle. And to think, this stallion hadn’t yet blown his load, her anticipation for that moment as high a skyrocket as her level of arousal right now. It made her all the more eager to want that hot,sweet white cream of his all the more as she threw her head to let out a deepthroated howl of raw orgasmic desire, her tail curling to make a cute little heart shape to it as she didn’t want this ride to end. Not yet anyway when it was clear they’d just gotten started.

Oh indeed that was certainly the case as the succubus and her comapct security for hire commenced with proceeding through a kama sutra’s worth of positions. Her ass,her mouth and her pussy getting hammered, pounded and pumped with inches upon inches of that meaty piece of sexual heaven. The dressing room getting trashed and wrecked harder than any hotel room the diva had stayed at when she used to go on a booze fuelled bender. She was drunk and high on sexual ecstasy and she wasn’t anting this ride to end at all. Ass up in the air as she laid on her hands and knees on the floor, brain going numb with pleasure as he mounted atop her,hammering into her ass with abandon before they transitioned naturally to going at it doggy style, the saucy pop star adding a few naughty barks for good measure. That is when she wasn’t howling and calling for the short king to go faster,deeper and harder. At one point she wondered if she was even calling for him to knock her up and give her some of his babies, who knows whar was even coming out of her dirty mouth at this point?!! Mating press, amazon press, hell the diva found herself performing a standing 69, looking to make herself gorge and suffocate on that bitchbreaking cock, Krillin finding his body decorated and marked with kiss marks baring her distinctive shade of lipstick. The lack of windows in the dressing room making it impossible to determine how much time had been passing and just how long they’d been going at it. Not that it mattered or they cared when the pleasure was all that mattered. Before soon Verosika felt it,the sweet glorious moment when he not only came, but came together with her. A full on sexual Atom Bomb going right off as they shared a simultaneous climax,the orgasmic wave causing orgy within the entire venue to come down with them and ride the crashing tidal wave of pleasure. All within the vicinity blacking out into a sweet slumber as they basked in the warmth of the afterglow, Verosika softly snoozing as she laid on the remains of the couch with Krillin laying atop. Holding him in her embrace as their loins stayed connected, her pussy oozing with the excess of his virile,potent baby batter. The succubitch all the while thinking to herself. ‘Now that,right there, was a itch scratched.....fucking,A....’

#sketchfan85 #sketchfanda #sketchfan #Helluva Boss #helluva verosika #verosika mayday #krillin #krillin smut #krillin dragonball #dragonball krillin

[jonmyblaze]

Sequel to part a

Now this my friends is the depression Arc as I call it

(I'm going to play a bit loose with the timeline right now I apologize but it's so it weaves together for the story I am making,

I'm going to be quite blunt about which stories I'm altering or taking inspiration from

1.Batman Son of the Demon (1987 )

2. Batman The Killing Joke (1988)

3.Batman A Death in the Family (1988 DC))

Start off with the first event

"Son of the demon"

when Dick and Bruce were still a dynamic duo. Dick encountered a woman named Talia Al guhl while he was in college at med school. (Dropped out but he has went through multiple semesters ) (fuck you DC for having him be in college for 10 years our time. and only say he just went through one semester)

This created the on and off relationship of the demon heriess and the bat . A Relationship filled with love angst tragedy grief and Hope.

Multiple instances she would go against her own father for her own morality. For a while she loved him she also recognized his faults.

Talia always wanted to be and remained independent. Even with her love of her favorite detective she refused to be tied down

Ultimately the relationship would end in tragedy.

They tried to got married, in fact they had a lovely honeymoon and relationship however it's when the pregnancy started that things fell apart. Bruce was paranoid he had known that his mother went through multiple miscarriages some heavily traumatic and scarring before he was born. This would influence his paranoia, infantilizing her and hurting her feelings and sense of Independence

ultimately leads this lead the self-destruction of the relationship.

After much tragedy and marital instability Talia and Bruce would divorce after one of her more traumatic miscarriages.(this was caused because ninjas attempted to kill Talia for her position)

No matter how much Bruce tried, It happened and he accepted the results.

To him, as much as he valued Talia. He also had to acknowledge her independence. He could not control her. No matter how much he wanted to protect her.

If she chose The divorce he would acknowledge it as such. It was such a shame it had to break off this way. With the death of a unborn WANTED CHILD.

(I am pro-choice but even I acknowledge there's a difference between the accidental death of a wanted child and a abortion.)

However where Wayne decided he would accept a results, The Al ghuls were not as caring about the laws between life and death.

After all the patriarch Ra's had been in this situation before. A Child that was so close to life but died in the final push. And he did what any father would do in his situation with his resources. His daughter would be healthy and developed rather than a small feeble pre developed corpse.

He would in turn ensure that his daughter would see the full success that he saw with her.

After much care in resurrecting and restarting the process in an artificial womb. Damian son of a bat would be born.

In a sense talia had lied, in another point of view she hadn't. To some, death was a barrier to others death was merely a gateway between realms. For this result, Talia would owe her father A life debt. She would work with her father for many years to come.

A series of further tragedies will nearly shatter the bat family. This was the one that hurt Bruce first emotionally.

........

Next part The killing joke, and the death of the first batwoman

#bruce x talia #good mom talia #talia al ghul #Bruce #dick grayson #dc #batman #bruce wayne #brutalia #ra's al ghul #league of assassins #loa #league of shadows #miscarriage

[investmentassistant]

Overcoming perfectionism: embracing imperfection for a happier life

Perfectionism, while often praised as a positive trait, can have detrimental effects on mental health and overall well-being. The relentless pursuit of flawlessness can lead to stress, anxiety, and even hinder personal and professional growth. This article explores effective strategies to combat perfectionism and foster a healthier, more balanced approach to life.

Understanding perfectionism

Perfectionism is characterized by setting excessively high standards for oneself and others, accompanied by a fear of failure or making mistakes. This mindset can create a constant sense of dissatisfaction, as nothing ever seems good enough. Recognizing the signs of perfectionism is the first step in addressing and overcoming this challenge.

Ways to combat perfectionism

Cultivate self-awareness. Developing self-awareness is crucial in the fight against perfectionism. Take time to reflect on your thoughts, behaviors, and expectations. Identify situations where perfectionism may be holding you back, and acknowledge the toll it takes on your mental health. Being mindful of these patterns is the first step toward positive change.

Embrace imperfection. Accepting that perfection is an unattainable goal is essential. Embrace imperfection as a natural part of the human experience. Understand that making mistakes is not a sign of weakness but an opportunity for growth. Shift your mindset from viewing errors as failures to seeing them as valuable lessons.

Set realistic goals. Rather than aiming for perfection, set realistic and achievable goals. Break down larger tasks into smaller, more manageable steps. This approach not only makes the workload more digestible but also allows for a sense of accomplishment along the way. Celebrate small victories, and recognize that progress is more important than perfection.

Challenge negative self-talk. Perfectionists often engage in negative self-talk, reinforcing the belief that nothing they do is ever good enough. Challenge these destructive thoughts by replacing them with positive and realistic affirmations. Focus on your strengths and accomplishments, and be compassionate with yourself when faced with setbacks.

Prioritize self-care. Taking care of your physical and mental well-being is crucial in combating perfectionism. Practice self-compassion, engage in activities that bring you joy, and ensure you get enough rest. By prioritizing self-care, you create a foundation for a healthier mindset and improved resilience in the face of challenges.

Seek support. Overcoming perfectionism is a journey that may require support from others. Share your experiences and feelings with friends, family, or a mental health professional. Talking openly about your struggles can provide valuable perspectives, insights, and encouragement to help you navigate the path to a more balanced life.

Conclusion

Perfectionism can be a significant barrier to personal growth and happiness. By cultivating self-awareness, embracing imperfection, setting realistic goals, challenging negative self-talk, prioritizing self-care, and seeking support, individuals can break free from the shackles of perfectionism and foster a more fulfilling and balanced life. Remember, it's okay to be imperfect – it's a part of what makes us human.

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine being siblings with Manwe and Melkor

(Filled with angst and family drama. I hope this will be to your liking Eden.) 

Requested by @edensrose​

Warnings: Melkor being his usual destructive self, angst family life, mentions of dead elves and Feanor shenanigans, fluff and Manwe trying to be a good brother. 

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-The dispute between Melkor and the rest of your kin had gone longer than you imagined. 

-You hoped it wouldn't have gone this way since he was your brother, and you still cared for him and wished things would go back as they used to be since he was a good brother to you and Manwe  – not a horrible dark lord. 

-You were the youngest of the two and usually followed your brothers around when you three still lived in the timeless halls in your father’s care. 

-Melkor was mischievous, but he never did anything to harm you or Manwe. He usually made jokes to make you laugh and ensured you wouldn't feel lonely when Eru doted on Manwe most of the time. You adored him and were inseparable back then. 

-That was until he became obsessed with the imperishable flame and went rogue, going against your father’s song, adventuring into the void, and corrupting everything when you arrived in Ea for the first time. 

-You never understood why he wanted to rule it so violently. 

-He was so full of spite toward everything, and that frightened you. You saw what he had done to everyone’s creations, so it was one of the main reasons; why you never brought your visions to life despite having the freedom to do it. 

-You had many things planned, the powerful fire-breathing dragons, griffins, unicorns, and all kinds of creatures who could live alongside the children of Eru. The fairies who could look after Yavanna’s creations and so many more you wanted to gift to your brethren, but you did none of it because you were afraid Melkor would turn his hatred toward your creations.

-You were saddened because you got the inspiration for the dragons from him. You were planning to gift them to him one day, but you were anxious that he wouldn't appreciate them and turn them into his own cruel image. 

-You only brought one creation to life, a winged lion. You took it as your companion like how Nahar was to Orome. He was a loyal companion, with fur and a mane white as Manwe’s wings and eyes red like Melkor’s favored rubies. He was a living image of grace, beauty, and wild strength. You gave him the name Alcarion. The son of brilliance. 

-You were lonely when you decided not to create anything for Arda. You watched as your brother and brethren created their realms. You almost envied their beautiful visions and wanted to gift them the creatures you planned for each of them, but you didn’t. 

-They tried to encourage you to create your visions as they thought were beautiful and unique, but you didn’t. 

-Manwe tried to be supportive and comfort you when Melkor deserted you. 

-While you appreciated it, it didn't ease your pain for those who suffered under Melkor's cruelty.

-You didn’t first understand his view on defying Eru as he was cruel in doing so, but when you tried to think it through – you found yourself unable to agree with some of Eru’s plans.  

-You thought he was too cruel toward Aule’s dwarves as you thought they were lovely, so you were the one who supported Aule and convinced Eru to let the dwarves coexist with the other children, envisioning many great things would happen if he allowed them to live. 

-Aule became forever grateful to you since that day. 

-You didn’t like how Eru would wish for destruction when something didn’t go as planned because you believed everything deserved a chance to live in the world your brethren had created. Planned or not. 

-You also began to notice how everything seemed about Eru’s plan – not on your own and your brethren. 

-It felt suffocating for some reason as Manwe and the others tried hard to go with your father’s plan, barely accepting anything outside what your father had envisioned. 

-You had seen how some of the maiars had tried to create something of their own, yet your brethren rejected them and forced them to destroy their creations. 

-That rejection became one of the reasons why many maiars ended up in Melkor’s servitude, yet your brethren were too blind to see it. 

-You slowly began to understand Melkor’s view on defying and his strange obsession to take control of everything. 

-You remained quiet about it because you didn’t want to offend your brethren for having such faith in Eru, and you loved him too, so it was complicated to hide your conflicted feelings. 

-However, Manwe seemed to sense your distraught nature and tried many times to question if you were bothered or alright. You gave him false answers — telling him not to worry about it. 

-He didn’t seem to believe you as much and thought maybe you were lonely again, so he tried to be there for you as much as he could, which you appreciated as you had difficulties connecting with anyone. 

-You didn’t choose to become one of the valars because you hadn’t done anything significant to earn such a position. Only Manwe and the others did something for Arda, so they deserved the title the most. 

-You found companionship with Nienna as you both mourned for the creatures and those who suffered in the darkness. You had no power over the spirit like Nienna, Irmo, and Namo, but your voice was enough to soothe the aching souls as you sang to them, so it was enough for you. 

-You had grown fond of Nienna as she eased your loneliness the most, so you considered asking her hand in marriage as she did not have a spouse like you. 

-Manwe was supportive of the idea. He sometimes tried to help you by giving you a little nudge to ask Nienna to court you. You did not appreciate it because his attempts often made you look like a fool and left you embarrassed. 

-Even though you did not choose to become one of the valar, you unintentionally became one since you often wandered into the darkness to bring the innocent creatures and children back to the light. 

-You became known as the valar of protection, guidance, and gifts. 

-It was one of the reasons why some elves and people preferred you the most over your brethren. 

-You chose to live among them as you adored the children, living through their eyes and experiencing what they felt while living in Valinor. You wanted to make them feel safe and loved, so you often brought news to Manwe and helped improve their lives. 

-Manwe learned much more about them from you and enjoyed listening to your daily experiences over tea and biscuits as you told him everything under Varda’s stars. 

-He felt happy and proud of you. He felt glad and supportive when you try to guide and support Finwe with his son after Miriel’s unfortunate passing. You had grown a strong friendship with the young prince and helped him become Aule’s apprentice. 

-When time passed, you finally decided to bring out some of your creations and gift them to the elves. 

-You once visited Middle Earth to gift Melian and Thingol with a companion for their daughter. You were glad to see her again, and the elves of Doriath considered your visit a great honor, and it brought you great delight to see their princess enjoy and befriend their new creature friend. 

-You had even gifted the house of Ingwe and the Teleri with a creature of their own, and when the time came, you decided to give a couple of dragon eggs for Feanor’s sons when they were born. 

-Feanor appreciated the gift and promised your dragons would be well cared for when they hatch. You had no doubts. You would have planned to gift seven of each, but after personally witnessing the shenanigans of his wild family, you took pity on him and limited your gifts to three. 

-You didn’t wish to cause more chaos and headache upon Feanor and his wife by gifting seven dragons who could match the nature of their seven unique sons. 

-When Melkor returned, you were anxious but silently happy to see your brother. 

-You spent some time together, catching up on the latest events, and it felt like old times as he made you laugh once more, but he soon tried to fill your head with the control, power, and other great things you could do together without Eru’s plan. 

-When it became too much to listen to him. You stopped seeing him and began avoiding him whenever you had the chance. You agreed Eru’s plan should be free. Everyone should be able to decide and do things without Illuvatar’s judgment, but you never agree with Melkor’s way of doing so. 

-Melkor did not repent like he claimed when he was released. He destroyed the trees with a giant spider, stole the silmarils, and murdered Feanor’s father. But it was not all-- he had also stolen the dragon eggs you had gifted to Feanor’s sons. 

-Since you had previously mentioned you got the inspiration for the dragons from him and intended to give them to him, you felt sad. It made you think Melkor probably felt insulted that you gave them to the elves and decided to take them back to himself. 

-It brought you even more sorrow when Feanor and his sons ended up doing horrible things and causing further suffering for the Silmarils. The kinslaying of the Teleri resulted in their banishment from Valinor.

-It caused you an inner turmoil that was more violent than any hurricane or fire in the depths of the earth. You distanced yourself as you couldn't help the innocent that continued to suffer from the actions of your brother and Feanor, who had lost himself in the madness of his creations. 

-Only Nienna and your faithful lion companion managed to ease your inner conflict and bring your soul peace from the pain the darkening of Yavanna’s trees caused. 

-You took Nerdanel under your wing as she suffered severe emotional damage from the separation of her husband and sons. She was almost at risk of fading. You also ensured she would be protected, so she would not meet the end of Feanor’s actions. 

-After the birth of the sun and moon, you grew distant from your brother and brethren as they were busy dealing with affairs and those that remained after the catastrophic event. 

-Manwe noticed your growing distance. You barely talked, and there was always a distant look in your eyes. You both shared a bond that would allow you to feel each other’s feelings, but you closed yourself from him. It left him worried. 

-It reminded him too much of what happened when Melkor went rogue and started shutting everyone out, so he decided to confront you. 

-He had always been good with words, and you hated seeing Manwe upset or worried, so you finally told him about your feelings about everything and Eru’s plans. 

-Manwe was distressed when you told him about your growing dislike toward Eru’s plan and begged you wouldn't go on the same path as Melkor. He wouldn't be able to bear to see his last sibling turn for the dark and become an enemy to the world as Melkor had become.

-You assured him you would do no such thing. Melkor's plan and need for change made sense to you, but you disagreed with his cruelty and evil ways.

-You wanted more freedom for the children and everyone else – that they could live and create without being unfairly judged for being different. It was change you wanted, but you didn't want to destroy and kill like Melkor.

-Manwe felt assured and shame that he had not realized all these feelings you had been hiding all these years. He apologized and offered to try to understand more and help you become one with yourself again. 

-Your bond became better again as you felt better after opening up to him. 

-You proceeded with your habit of going into the dark and bringing the lost souls back to the light. You began adopting all the creatures Melkor had thrown away from his failed attempts to create something of his own. 

-Using your healing powers, you turned the creations of your brother into something new. 

-You filled Valinor with new exotic creatures. The elves and your brethren learned to adore them, and Manwe loved the little birds with draconic features. It made him slowly understand his brother’s strange view of the world. 

-It made him appreciate your view and feelings even more as you managed to create something beautiful out of Melkor’s corruption – like a painter with the finest touch in art. 

-He felt saddened. Melkor would have made amazing things with you and him if he had not driven himself with greed and envy. 

-He still hoped there would be a change in Melkor’s heart and all of you would reunite as one again. 

-In any case, he will accept it if Melkor chooses never to return to the light, and his brother's evil will one day be put to rest forever.

-It breaks his heart, but as long as he had you and you had him. He knew everything would be alright in the end. 

#manwe x reader #sibling reader #melkor x reader #silmarillion x reader #tolkien #manwe #melkor #manwe headcanon #melkor headcanon #silm fic #middle earth x reader #middle earth #platonic #nienna x reader

[stardyng]

Unpopular opinion: most Targaryens aren’t bad (yes their dynasty is awful) but it’s not like they could choose the House/dynasty they where born into or the fact they where descendants of three blood-thirsty-dragon-riding conquerors.

While someone isn’t inherently bad because they happen to be part of a certain family, the Targaryen dynasty does socialize and mold it’s members a certain way that leads a substantial amount of them to become proponent to fire and blood as they so famously say and flippantly use their power and weapons of mass destructions. They are essentially hailed over everyone else and treated by the people around them as being superior to others and socialized to view power over any other as their birthright regardless of the consequences that they often see themselves as being entitled to create in the first place as well. The system itself is the larger problem, but that system has deep ramifications in the mindset and tendencies of the individuals. This leads to a recurring pattern of constant dangerous petulance (such as the one present in all three central Targaryens in House of the Dragons) that so many of it’s members (and other major families have too, albeit typically to a much lesser and less (but still) inherently destructive degree) have in regards to power. So much that a lot of them, such as the ones in that conflict (like Rhaenyra) are far more concerned about ‘’how the throne rightfully belongs to them’’ just because it does rather than have any actual and concrete consideration or investment in the people they’re ruling in the first place.

Anyhow, their continued existence exists due to continuous incestuous practice to maintain their ‘’special bloodline’’. Their reign is founded on their initial conquest and even more importantly, continuous terrorization of the rest of the seven kingdoms because they have the fantasy equivalent of nuclear bombs, and so even most of  the better Targaryens ruler and members end up being complicit and a part of this larger tyranny and incestuous hazard regardless of their personal morals. Like practically every other major house in Westoros as well, no patriarchy (let alone those at the top of it) and no monarchical power can be ethical in the first place so their whole reign and continued hold to power is inherently unethical, and that manifests itself substantially in how women, lower-class people and anybody who doesn’t submit to them, are treated. 

 It’s made worse here due to how their reign is held together by fire and blood, and so when tested, there’s where most of them end up falling back on, especially since that’s what they’re brought up to do with the superficial element of their family’s history validating that tendency to use their power recklessly to dominate. Not all of them are inherently bad (and some of them are innocent and haven’t done any wrongs) but the awful dynasty in question is structured in a way that results in a surplus of destructive entitlement in the family as a whole and even a lot of the rulers that don’t rely on ‘’fire and blood’’ as much, still put their efforts in keeping this awful dynasty in power (despite their positive intentions that only matter in the very short term) and ensuring that their destructive entitlement will be continued on in later generations. 

#house of the dragon #anti targaryen #fire and blood #basically the awful dynasty restricts their goodness and fuels their personal flaws #and the goodness ends up typically having short term benefits #and their personal flaws often becomes everyone's problems #and that alongside their complicit positions ends up having larger long term ramifications

[oldfacesnewdawnoffical]

Magic Within OFND

A bit of an expansion on the status of magic within both the world and narrative of OFND.

World-Building

“Magic” within OFND borders the line of how magic is perceived via most media (that being, plainly put: “the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.”) and the effects of the world’s radiation on its inhabitants.

Alongside the ability for many animals to gain hyper intelligence, speech, and other various traits, so too have they gained the ability to manipulate their surroundings via various ways. While the traits, themselves, are not genetic, they are one of the ways that these animals have evolved to ensure survival and thriving, a comfortable and safe life as the earth recovers from her deep wounds.

Before the radiation wars, magic was a thing, but very few had access to it. None could tap into its full potential, boiling beneath the surface of the humans’ lust for destruction and violence. As a pseudo entity, it withdrew itself, curled into itself, refused to offer its aid to the dominant species that had proved so swiftly that they didn’t need the additional help. But I’m their wake, with the world being in such a state of disarray, of wild recovery, it woke once more and reached out, offering that aid where it could in an attempt to help the earth grow via extending through the lives that existed properly on the earth.

This is a very rough comparison, but to those Adventure Time fans out there, think the lore of the series. In which Ooo is a post-apocalyptic world, ravaged by war and radiation; the magic users and various creatures only emerged after the warhead. Think of OFND’s magic in a similar (almost identical, looking back on that ^^’) light.

It is just as much a tool as it is a privilege, a gift just as much it is an affliction. It depends on who has access to such a tool, who wields it, that thus affects the world around them…

Narrative

Magic is a tool! This is a concept that is widely acknowledged by pretty much every mindful creature. To the fealty, however, they view magic moreso in the light of a tool like a knife.

It has many uses! Used for protection, for slicing food, for making kindling, opening packages, carving, first aid - many things! But those things aren’t commonly the first thing that rises to one’s mind in the face of such a tool. The first thing it presents? Danger. A threat. And to the fealty, magic is a threat, a clear danger, one that has brutally wounded their way of life in the past and one that they are very hesitant to allow back into their lives and cultures in more modern times.

But! Times do change. And even if the fealty as a whole is firmly rooted in honorable tradition, making them hesitant and slow to change, to adapt is to survive, and at the end of the day, survival is their goal. Which led to the role of augur being formed: relatively recently, in fact! While one of their nine major deities is revered as “the first augur”, the first augur was actually only instated rather recently - shortly before Goosefang’s time, in fact. It is a new role to them, very tentative in its place within each faction, but the fealty has acknowledged that with magic becoming more and more common, and more and more unpredictable, at least one cat with especially powerful abilities should be able to stand and serve as a positive guiding force for their faction, rather than something to be feared.

Magic outside of the fealty (and even within, just on a far lower keyed scale) is incredibly common! About forty percent of the earth’s entire population possesses some form of magic: including some archfiends.

#old faces new dawn #warrior cats rewrite #warriors rewrite #magic #world building #magic system #announcment #worldbuilding

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Hello! First of all i want to say that i adore your headcanons about the 2p's and your blog. It's my first time requesting, and altho I'm not new to the blog i must admit that i haven't been here in a while and i kind of forgot if you do or don't do the thing with naming the anons, if you do, feel free to call me ⭐ anon.

To summeraize it up, it's just that i didn't have any idea up until now but this one hit me like a shower thought.

So onto the question.

What about the 2p's and a very perceptive S/O?

Examples: The S/O caught onto their obssesion and schemings, or they saw through their manipulation, or they caught them stalking them, or maybe they somehow managed to escape them, they lead the yandere on a false trail while they escaped on another.

I mainly want to see the Allies, Romania and Poland, if you may.

Thank you, have a cookie🍪 and have a great day!

Of course, ⭐anon, and thanks for the cookie, compliments, and patience!! How did you know that I am a dessert junkie?

France: François is like an old, barn cat in that he’s done his work and now believes that he’s owed something easy. His observant Cher decided that wasn’t how it was going to which sly tricks and quick getaways. When the pattern repeats itself for the fifth time, François no longer puts his physical energy into the chase. Relying on the city’s cameras François begins to lay a series of snares. Each one is layered like hair-thin threads, so small that even Cher’s power of perception cannot catch them all. With each pulled off, two have gone unnoticed, until their combined power is stronger than steel cables. Leading to an easy capture for François.

America: A man with a temper like Allen’s doesn’t do well with an observant doll. Similar to what would happen with a professor darling, each escape would be like a tick on a detonation clock. The closer to zero that hands get, the more likely Allen is to become drastic, especially once his pride becomes damaged. His final tactic is the same no matter what, he or allow those around you to die.

Canada: Matt’s work with animals sets him up well with an observant darling. Both rely on their keen sense of awareness to survive in this world and in response, Matt first views each false trail he’s led down as just that. Someone struggling to survive. Unlike the others that chose more physically damaging methods, he doubles down on ways to build reliance on himself. Maple’s car breaks down or her window shatters, Matt makes sure that he’s the one that fixes it. It doesn’t matter if he’s punching a man’s lights out to take their uniform or finding Maple on the side of the road, he’ll be the one to do the repair. Sadly, if his gentle methods fail, then Matt will become harsh. Repairs are replaced with destruction, and gentle herding turns into a bruising grip on her forearm. This game won’t last forever, because at some point he will run her down. It will only take one slip, and she’s doomed.

England: Oliver would watch as Dearie slipped out of his fingers the first time. Tutting to himself as he replayed the days leading up to his failure. Mumbling about the notes left for him by his rabbits, when one thing pops back up in his mind. Dearie always could tell when she was being watched, meaning she was very observant. Like Allen, it’s a similar song to the Professor. He thinks it's cute until it's not. Her avoidance of his ‘gifts’ and duty to remain professional with him rubs Oliver wrong. By the game’s end, a deal is made with a creature of her nightmares. Dearie’s shrill screams show that her punishment is underway, and her silence means she’s almost in his arms.  

Russia: Just like Oliver and Allen, Viktor has also dealt with a professor situation, and she was just as observant. He will not enjoy being outmaneuvered but does take note of what he learns. Slowly creating the perfect tactic to ensure no escape. As the plan commences and his darling runs, swerving like a serpent between the trees as his men give chase. All the while Viktor remains hidden and watches from strategically placed cameras like a wolverine in the trees. Waiting for his darling to sprint past in fear, only to be ambushed. Dragging into his stone chest, stuck forever with a blizzard-like man.

China: Centuries of success can only be achieved by observation. As she knew Jin was on her tail, so did he know Qin had that stubborn, little trait. For a while, Jin will allow her to feel as though he’s been outplayed. Repeatedly allowing her to escape and feel safe, only to repeat the cycle within a matter of hours. It takes a toll on her mental health as her observant nature allows her no rest due to the cycle he had forced her into and the unknown amount of people working under him. As her world became shaky from the lack of sleep and paranoia, her once beneficial trait worsens it. Until the world becomes dark and Jin can take his sleeping beauty home.

Romania: As a hunter, Nicodim would enjoy a perceptive lover. Something about the constant vigilance reminds him of a small creature. A simple, rabbit that thinks as long as its predator is in sight and several feet away that the danger has been managed. Though in reality, Nic is working to change the wide meadow to a dark, city alley. Eventually, she’ll be cornered and Nicodim will capture his prize, eager to dissect every side of his rabbit.

Poland: Piotr is already tired enough and a darlin of this caliber makes him more so. From the constant vigilance to the complex escape plans, this man feels the wariness from those actions deep in his bones as he slowly follows like a true persistent predator. As the chase progresses and her decisions to escape become more often, Piotr becomes annoyed. That annoyance quickly turns into irritation and with that comes aggression. Just like a frog in a pot, his harsher tactics of capture start off pretty soft with pitfalls, snares, and herding by his men. The passage of time brings with it crueler methods; rusty bear traps, home invasions, and the destruction of anything that makes her independent. If she’s perceptive enough to dodge even all of this, then Piotr’s final option is to appeal to his boss for a legal summons. At that point there is no way out, she’s finally cornered and captured. Forever stuck in his cold house, sleeping with the one source of constant warmth, Piotr.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #2p allies #2p america #2p china #2p canada #2p romania #2p russia #2p poland #2p england #2p france #2p yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere