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seresinhangmanjake · 18 days

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Respect

Feyd-Rautha x female!reader

Summary: Your betrothed is a son from one of the Great Houses, an awful man who has enjoyed threatening and scaring you since you were children. Feyd makes it known he doesn't appreciate such disrespectful treatment of the woman he loves.

Notes/Warnings: SA (mention of past unwanted touching. Not by Feyd). Violence and blood. Implied or mentioned sexual situations. Feyd is soft for reader and reader only. Typos, im sure. I think that's it. Feel free to correct me.

Words: 1900

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You told him stories of the youngest son of House Kenric. As you lay in Feyd’s arms, you recounted your meetings with your betrothed over the years. The ways he teased you as children, pinching your skin, tugging on your hair, spitting in your face, calling you worthless, stupid, pathetic. Then in the years before coming of age, how he would mock you alongside his brothers. How he would smack you if you defended yourself and force you to tell your father you’d fallen. How he would grope you over your dress when neither your parents nor his were paying attention. But you’d kept one story from him; the most recent of them.

Feyd had met you at a party for a handful of influential Great Houses, and it wasn’t long before he found himself rather attached to you. Over the course of six hours, you’d met, talked, flirted, snuck off, kissed, fell into bed, fucked, and returned to the party with no one the wiser. It was that same night you were able to convince your father of a budding interest in Harkonnen ways, and that if the Houses were aiming for peace and unity, there would be no harm in you spending a few months on Giedi Prime.

At the time, Feyd knew the “Harkonnen ways” you so appreciated didn’t extend far past the attachment the two of you shared and his ability to make you see stars when his cock was inside of you, but it eventually developed into more. Much more. Though never said aloud, he loved you. So much so that when you finally informed him of your betrothed’s treatment of you the week preceding the party—his cornering you, touching you, telling you of his intent to control and use you as he pleases once you become his wife—Feyd struggled to swallow his rage.

“I’m scared, honestly,” you told him, your hand sliding up from his abdomen over his chest to the curve where his neck met his shoulder, gently squeezing the toned muscle. “How do I become the wife of a man like that? And what about producing his heir? I’ll have no choice but to let him have me.”

It made Feyd sick to think of another man so close to you. Another man’s hands on you, his lips marring your body, tongue between your folds, sweat staining your skin. Even screwing his eyes shut couldn’t make those images disappear. They only grew stronger, tormenting him. She’s not yours, a little voice whispered. Not your woman, not the mother of your child, not your wife.

But, fuck, you should be. You should be all of those things. You would make a perfect Baroness; the only one Feyd could imagine himself wanting. You would face hardship with a sturdy backbone and not shy away from what Giedi Prime would request of you. You would be respected as the ruler by his side, as you deserve. Respected most of all by the man who loves you.

“Would you rather marry me?” Feyd asked, lazily running his fingers up and down your bare spine. He felt a sudden uneasiness, like nerves wiggling throughout his limbs. Such an unfamiliar sensation. Unwelcome, but not misplaced he supposed.

“Yes,” you replied to his relief. “But we both know that’s not how this works, Feyd. It’s just not that simple.”

You were right. It wasn’t simple. Your father made an arrangement with House Kenric, but there was no chance Feyd was going to let that old Duke take you from him in two weeks and ship you off to marry an abusive, unworthy pest of a man. If your father wouldn’t permit simplicity for the sake of your happiness, then Feyd would just have to make it simple.

—

“Why is it again that I’m not allowed to see?” you ask as Feyd guides you down a dark corridor with his fingers covering your eyes.

“I told you it’s a surprise,” he teases. “Don’t you like my presents?”

You chuckle. “Of course, I like your presents.”

“Then that’s all you need to know,” he tells you. “We are here, anyway.”

Coming to a stop, Feyd removes his hands from your eyes and places them on your shoulders, kneading out the tension that has only worsened in your body as your wedding day grows nearer. You blink once, twice, still curious as to what sort of present could possibly be this far from your rooms, but when your vision adjusts to the onslaught of bright light illuminating the small cell, you gasp at the sight before you.

“What do you think?” Feyd asks, pressing a kiss to your neck as you take in the badly beaten body of Aldo Kenric—your future husband.

He’s secured to a chair, his arms strapped down to the chairs arms and legs strapped to legs. His head hangs low. His shirt is torn down the front, exposing the deep purple bruises that litter his torso. Blood drips from his nose and split lips to stain white fabric and forge red rivers through the hills of his abdomen muscles. If not for the pink flush to his skin, you would think him long dead.

The hand that raises to your mouth partially conceals your shock, but the rest of your face gives the emotion away. Your eyelids don’t seem to be able to blink anymore, and your brows will not lower from their position high up on your forehead. You don’t know how to swallow what you see.

With a sigh, Feyd says, “Wait a moment. He’s not very lively.” Then he steps around you toward your betrothed, lifts the man's head by his cropped blond hair, and hits him across the face with a smack that echoes throughout the cell. Scarlet droplets splatter across Feyd’s forearm like flung paint from a brush.

Aldo jolts awake, body convulsing in a sharp jerk. His eyes blow wide as saucers as he snaps his head in all directions and struggles against his binds. The gag in his mouth muffles his whimpers of panic.

“H-How?” you stutter, glancing at Feyd. “When did you—”

“I had some of my men snatch him last night,” Feyd informs you. ‘While we were busy fucking’, he leaves out. “I was told it was done without difficulty. Didn’t put up a decent fight of any sort.”

He grabs Aldo’s jaw, fingers pressing into the hollows of his cheeks, and forces his head so he has no choice but to look directly into Feyd’s eyes. “We had a long talk about respecting our women, didn’t we, Kenric?”

Tears stream down the man’s face, cutting through dried blood and dripping onto Feyd’s hand. Aldo tries to yank his head free from the tight grasp to look at you. You think he’s repeating your name behind the stuffing in his mouth, but you can’t be sure.

“What are you going to do with him?” you ask.

“What would you like me to do with him?”

“I can decide?”

He laughs. “Of course. I wouldn’t give you a gift and not let you choose what to do with it.”

You almost flinch in shock. You’re not known for choosing things for yourself. Until you met Feyd, ‘choice’ was a word associated with negativity and obligatory sacrifice. He is the one thing you’ve ever chosen. Your clothes, your hair, your studies, your husband—all selected for you. But Feyd…you met him and fell and didn’t want to get back up.

Maybe now, you don’t have to.

“You’d kill him?” you ask.

Aldo screams behind his gag, more salty wet lines running down his face. His squirming shifts the chair back and forth and forward and back. Unevenly distributed weight nearly causes him to fall on his side, but Feyd sets him upright before he can crack his head on the stone floor.

Reaching around his back, Feyd pulls out a small knife and in one sharp motion sinks it into Aldo’s thigh with a sickening yet satisfying thick thud. “Stay put,” he growls, then he turns to you with a smile. “Yes, I would kill him, if that would make you happy.”

Water pools in the corner of your eyes. Your bottom lip begins to quiver. Feyd rushes to you and cups your cheeks in warm palms.

“Do not cry,” he demands as his thumbs brush over your cheekbones. “You know I hate it.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, sucking in a few deep breaths between your sniffles. “No one has ever done something like this for me before.”

His face softens. “I’d do everything for you,” he swears before drawing you in for a kiss; slow and sensual and sweet in front of the broken man who currently has a claim on your hand. You lose yourself to mouths moving in perfect sync until he pulls back.

“So, do you have a preference?” he asks, giving you one final peck. “Slit throat now, or arena in the morning?”

Your head tilts in contemplation as you observe the distressed, wailing man who has happily hurt and terrified you. By nature, you are not a violent woman, not in the way your man is a violent man, and you were raised to believe that it is improper and rude and disrespectful to wish pain upon someone else—downright cruel or whatever—but there’s a sense of freedom now. Clearer mind, lighter heart, straighter spine, weakened conscience.

You raise a brow. “If I choose the arena, will you make a show of it?”

Feyd hums in agreement.

“And, um…” you pause.

“You can have anything you want,” Feyd says at your hesitation.

You nod, your confidence renewing with his encouragement. Yes, he’s right, you can have anything. With Feyd, it’s anything, and it’s conditionless.

As you slowly drag your hand down his chest, you peer up at him through your lashes. “Will you go in without a shirt? I’d like to see you come out covered in red.”

Feyd smirks then steps out of your arms and crouches in front of your soon-to-be-former betrothed. “Did you hear her?” he asks Aldo as he flicks the hilt of the blade sticking out of his flesh. Aldo whimpers, pressing his legs together. “Covered, she says. And I will give her what she wants because I love her and this is how I respect her.”

Leaning down, you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Let’s go to our room. I want to thank you…properly,” you whisper, softly kissing just under his ear before sucking his earlobe into your mouth. Feyd groans.

“And then I will properly thank you for thanking me, my love,” he says with a grin that falls into a frown when he turns back to Aldo. “See, Kenric? Respect.” Feyd slaps the top of Aldo’s leg for emphasis as he stands. “You can keep the knife for now. Can't have you bleeding out. We have an important day ahead of us and I don’t want it to be too easy.”

“Come on,” you snicker, pulling him by the hand as you walk backward out of the cell.

Feyd spins and grabs you at the waist to lift you into his arms. You giggle as your legs lock around his hips.

“Will you agree to marry me now?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you tell him, your lips ghosting over his. “You saved me.”

tags (let me know if you want to be on the list): @avidreader73

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha #dune part 2 #austin butler #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune

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mochatsin · 7 months

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WHEN MC GETS CATCALLED

Being a very extraordinary human, you’re bound to draw attention to yourself without meaning to. That includes the attention of unruly demons who can’t seem to take their eyes off you. One of them eventually crosses the line by calling you names and saying inappropriate things about you, but luckily one of the demon brother’s overheard and was there to help you.

Some scenarios have MC overhearing this or it happens behind their back. Even though the words aren’t explicitly said, please exercise caution if these things make you uncomfortable! Also has some violent themes with some of our favorite protective demons.

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Lucifer

Lucifer was on his way to meet you at this restaurant because he wanted to treat you to dinner as thanks for accompanying him with one of his errands that Diavolo has sent him on. With your help, it significantly lessened the headaches and workloads he has to deal with on a daily basis.

You’ve done a lot around the house, so it’s only fair that he would take you somewhere more high end right? You’ve already frequented some of the other restaurants with Beel, so Lucifer wants to take you to somewhere more high class. He wants you to feel special tonight, and mostly to lower the chances of his brothers barging in and ruining his dinner plans.

He was waiting by the table he reserved when he saw you walk in the entrance. Given the venue, Asmo decided to make sure you look your best to surprise Lucifer because he wants you to really capture everyone’s attention because you deserve to be the star of the night.

Well it did work because to Lucifer, you look absolutely stunning. He should’ve taken you out to these sorts of places more often if it meant he’ll see you like this. If only the constant house repairs and bills his younger brothers make him pay didn’t get in the way.

Though his admiration is cut off when he notices other demons looking at you with this predatory look in their eye, as if you were the main course walking into this restaurant. He’s holding onto anything to keep himself in line.

The last straw was when he heard the things some waiter said about you. To speak about you so lowly is insulting, there’s no way for Lucifer to sit still and act like he didn’t hear all that. The air feels so heavy to breathe in it feels like glass could shatter from the sheer pressure of it, and a deadly aura can be traced towards your reserved table.

“Do you wish to keep your tongue? Or would you prefer to keep speaking and see where this knife goes?” Lucifer’s gaze is cold and threatening while his grip on the butterknife tightens to the point he’s almost deforming the metal. Even though he’s only talking to the waiter, he’s clearly sending the whole restaurant a message.

You knew you needed to do some damage control and tried to get Lucifer out of there, coaxing him to calm down before it could get any worse. He decides to listen to you for now, because this whole night was meant to treat you and not stress you.

“It’s best if we get a change of scenery. There are too many pests in this restaurant, let me take you to a nice place. Somewhere more deserving of your presence.” Lucifer would not want to dine in a restaurant if their food is served by these kinds of waiters. He’d say it’s unprofessional customer service, but you can tell it’s very personal.

He takes you to somewhere fancier and possibly more expensive. Though he’s going a bit out of budget tonight, it’s to make up for those awful words that the waiter said about you. He hopes that you don’t shy away from dressing up so nicely, because he’d want to show to the world why the Avatar of Pride chose you. He’ll treat you like royalty if he has to.

It takes one awful review from Lucifer to have the establishment shut down under the order of the young prince. He doesn’t care what strings he has to pull if it means that your stay in Devildom would be much more comfortable. You should never feel unsafe like that again.

Mammon

Every other week Mammon would make a stop by the casino to try to score some extra grimm. As if his streaks of bad luck won’t be enough to keep him away here, and not even Lucifer’s punishments can put a cease on his bad gambling habits. It’s an itch in his brain that he’s gotta scratch after all! He’s optimistic each time he enters the casino in hopes he’ll score big.

There are a few occasions you would join him if your schedule allows it. Sometimes it’s to keep an eye in case Mammon goes too far with his bets as Lucifer instructed, because he doesn’t want him to come home with more debt than he left with. Though in all honesty, you’re there for the smile your first demon gets whenever he actually wins.

At some point Mammon believes that you’re his lucky charm when he notices how he’s been scoring more grimm than he expected whenever you’re around. If he finds that your schedule is free, then he’s definitely dragging you along.

He likes to rub the top of your head sometimes for some extra luck before making a bet. Though he prefers it more if you’re sitting next to him when he does so. He says it’s for luck, but he just wants an excuse to have you by his side.

The demons at the opposite side sees you and begins to make snarky comments accompanied with wolf whistle. The discomfort is evident in your eyes as you instinctively move closer to Mammon, and he’s definitely not having it right now.

Screw everything, if this asshole is picking a fight then that’s what Mammon will give him. If the demon wants to take hold of what’s his then Mammon will make it very clear to the entire table that you’re not up for grabs no matter how much grimm they’ll put on the table.

“Ya wanna make a bet how many teeth i could make ya cough out in a minute?” Mammon said, flashing a grin far too sinister. Being the second strongest and even the fastest, it doesn’t seem like a wise thing to gamble on so the demons shrunk in their seats.

You like to think that luck is finally on Mammon’s side today when he won the round. Though it’s definitely Mammon’s threatening aura around the table that impaired the everyone’s ability to make a wise decision when placing bets.

When he walks out with his earnings, his grip on your hand is tighter than usual while he checks his surroundings. He holds you like you’d get snatched away at any moment, and it doesn’t seem like he has any intention of letting you go until you both reach the house.

“You’re my treasure, but that doesn’t mean I like it when other demons check ya out like that.” Mammon is quite protective of his valuables. You and Goldie are on the top of the list. He’d play it off as acting this way as part of his role of Greed, but it’s clear he’s worried about you.

Whenever you text Mammon that you’re going to fetch him from the casino, he’s insistent that you either bring one of his brothers with you or wait outside because no way is he going to let other demons look at you like eye candy like that ever again.

Levi

Despite being a bit recluse and shy, Levi is not afraid of the prospect of cosplay when it means that he gets to express his love for his favorite series. He puts in a lot of work into sewing his costumes and making sure it looks perfect for the next upcoming convention.

He’s ecstatic when you agreed to cosplay with him this time, even matching with his favorite character. As soon as he got over the fluster he got from the idea, he’s quick in whipping up clothes for your size and you both spent a lot of time in his room trying to get your outfits right, or going outside to get some more materials.

The process was fun for Levi when he gets to do these sorts of things with you, and the payoff was worth it when you both finally got to see the end results. Levi is so confident, you two look like an absolute power couple… from the anime, yeah definitely. If Levi tried to say that again he might burst into flames.

You both go to the con and have an absolute blast taking photos together or with other people who are also fans of the series. Levi wants you to enjoy the thrill of cosplaying! But he eventually noticed midway that you’re starting to look uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the clothes? Wearing cosplay for so long can be tiring after all.

He stops when he hears a passerby making comments about you in the outfit, and it’s clear that it’s starting to make you uneasy but there’s no way that Levi is going to let someone ruin this event, not when you were clearly having fun together.

“Those aren’t compliments. They're just straight up offensive! A MOCKERY to fans who dedicate so much time and effort to the things they love!” Levi hisses because this person not only insulted the whole cosplay community, they insulted you of all people.

You helped Levi get out of his shell and come to his aid whenever things start getting overwhelming for him. Levi doesn't want you to feel that unease, he wants you to feel safe! What if you don’t want to do matching cosplays with him anymore? That’s unacceptable!

Luckily some other people got some security to drag the creep away since there’s already a record of making other cosplayers uncomfortable as well. Levi doesn’t dwell on that though, he grabs you and gently leads you away from the crowd of onlookers.

He tries to play it cool but if it weren't for the makeup and props on his face, you’d definitely see how red he looks right now. He mumbles something about how he must’ve sounded so stupid back there like what was he thinking…

“I-i know that some otaku like me can’t be like those heroes i dress up as but… y-you can rely on me too!” Levi managed to say through the stutter, though just saying things like these out loud makes him wish for the ground to swallow him up.

Levi would buy you something to cheer you up and forget about that experience, anything to bring a smile back on your face. Any merch of the series you like, maybe gamble on some cute gachapons, or just buy some desserts together. He wants you to feel better!

If other fans want to take pictures with you and you start feeling uncomfortable, Levi would do his best to drag you away or reject them for you. It’s taxing work and definitely doing numbers on his social battery, you’ll both be holed up in his room to recover after this whole ordeal.

He’ll have pictures of both of you in cosplay as his wallpaper at some point, maybe show off some of your best pictures to his brothers. He would ramble on for so long about how you look great in the picture and really embodied the character you were dressing as. If some demon can’t appreciate you back there in the con, then Levi will definitely worship you.

Satan

Instead of Libraries or Cafes like you both usually go to, Satan wants a nice change of pace this time and brings you to an orchestra. Through his connections, he was able to get both of you two tickets to the best seats in the house.

There’s no special occasion, he just wants to treat you to some of the finer things Devildom has to offer. Though he doesn’t really have the wallet like Lucifer does, he at least has the connections to make up for it so Satan can take you to galleries and things like these.

He was on his way to the venue where you were already waiting for him. But he stops when he hears some demon making revolting remarks about someone he saw at the entrance, only for Satan to realize that person was you when you were the only one by the doors.

You could practically feel the rage burning through him the moment you two meet, and it looks like he’s hardly containing his wrath. Though Satan promised you a nice night, it would be a shame to waste these expensive tickets by going feral right now so he decides to keep it to himself.

He keeps you close for the night, giving you the royalty treatment and whispering sweet nothings by your ear during the orchestra. If you ask him what brought up this sort of behavior (not that you’re against it), he’d just smile it off. He’d be honest about it, but not tonight. Satan wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of the play worrying.

“Something just brought down my mood, though it made me realize just how special you are to me. I’d do anything to keep you safe, and make you smile.” He whispers by your ear, wrapping an arm to bring you closer to him as you both listen to the orchestra.

His eyes narrow as soon as he spots the demon from earlier just a few seats across from you. His pupils dilate, like how a cats’ eyes would when it spots a prey to stalk.

From time to time his gaze would turn to your side, and if that bastard would ever even look at you for even a millisecond then he’s gripping on the armrest for his dear life because he swears he’s going to throw a punch or even worse.

But no, Satan can be patient and cunning. He waits until the demon excuses himself to the bathroom, and Satan promptly follows behind. The demon was simply washing his hands and by the time he looks up the mirror, Satan is already looming behind him with a smile that doesn’t seem to match the aura he’s giving off.

“Let’s be thankful that the orchestra seems to be quite loud for now. It’s a shame I’m going to miss it with my human, but it’ll be perfect to cover up any screams” Satan says with a sinister grin. If those eyes cannot see your true value, then those eyes are not worth keeping.

Satan comes back to you with a smile on his face, apologizing for taking a bit long in the bathroom before you both enjoy the rest of the show while holding hands. He’ll occasionally place a kiss on the back of your hand, enjoying each reaction he’ll get from you.

The demon’s seat remains empty for the entire night and the bathroom is closed for ‘maintenance’ when you check.

Asmo

What started as a usual hangout with Asmo quickly turned to a day in the mall. For the demon’s defense, it was the perfect opportunity after he tried to help wash your clothes and realized you’re wearing the same ones every week.

He will not stand for this when Devildom’s fashion line has so much to offer for you. You’ve been cycling through the same outfits recently, and Asmo wants you to have a new look!

Unlike his usual clothes shopping spree with you where he makes you try a heaping basket of outfits, Asmo wants you to choose whatever you want to wear this time and see what kind of clothes catches your eye.

Clothes tell a lot about a person, so he wants to see your aesthetic properly and know what you personally like. You try on the outfits you like and he’s loving the smile on your face each time. Of course Asmo would have suggestions, but not the kinds that would stray away from your aesthetic but rather improve it.

Asmo was waiting patiently for you in the dressing room when he heard some demons behind him, a few aisles back, talking about how absolutely delicious you looked. Even going as far as thinking of grabbing a bite and just hearing such words is making Asmo’s blood boil.

He’d stand for it if it were directed at him, but to his human? He will not let some lesser demons talk about you that way. If anything, those demons should be cowering for you because of how stunning you are!

“My love did not spend so much time trying out clothes that make them happy only for maggots like you to gawk at them that way.” Asmo glares, his eyes having that hypnotic enchanting glow in it. With the demons under his spell, Asmo has so much planned. A whole world of pain was waiting for them until he heard you from the dressing room calling out for him.

Asmo quickly utters a command to make the demons leave, he’ll just have to deal with them later. Maybe later he can ask Satan for a curse to force them to cry and make their tears burn like acid if those demons ever laid their eyes on you like that again.

He’d have his usual smile plastered on his face as soon as you walk out the dressing room with another outfit you chose, though he sounds much more enthusiastic last time. Asmo is showering you with praises, he’ll find a way to make a compliment that brings a smile to your lips no matter what you wear. There’s no innuendos or any poor attempt at flattery, he sounds genuine this time.

“This isn’t just some sweet talk! I love your smile whenever you wear something you like and feel good about it. You should wear these more often, and maybe after this we can find some accessories to match your style!”

Asmo doesn’t tell you about the things he heard from when you were still in the dressing room, he thinks there’s no need for you to waste time on such things. Though you’ve noticed how he seems to have two lesser demons following him around and carrying all his things for him. Satan just says that they did something to upset Asmo, now they’re practically his slaves until he feels better.

Beel

You often drop by before Beel’s Fangol practice to give him a snack, your own personal way of cheering him on and wishing him good luck. Beel loves your generosity, and eating food that came from you specifically seems to energize him more.

Sometimes he’d spot you watching over him by the bleachers, either by yourself or with Belphie napping on your lap. You’re like his personal cheerleader, and whenever you both lock eyes he can feel his heart making leaps in his chest when you wave at him.

He’s by the locker room changing out of his sweaty clothes when he overheard one of the demons talking about the exchange student watching over them. Beel could tell from their words that they seemed interested in you, which didn’t leave a good feeling in his gut.

Eventually their words became something much more twisted and vile, saying things that Beel would never associate you with. He’s had enough of sitting by and letting them just think they could talk about you like that and get away with it.

There’s a loud BANG! And the sound of metal crunching. The demons turned around to see that Beel, out of pure anger, slammed the locker door hard enough that it’s barely hanging on by the wedges. There’s even a large hand print if they looked close enough.

“If you keep talking that way… our next training sessions are going to be very rough.” There’s a growl as Beel spoke, his gaze making the demons feel so small before he left. He knows they’re supposed to be his teammates, but that doesn't mean anything to him after what they’ve said about you.

You walk up to him in a hurry as soon as you spot him after practice, asking him what was that loud noise you heard from the locker room. Beel blinks at you for a moment before smiling, “my teammate just slipped and hit against the locker. Don’t worry, no one is hurt yet.”

You tried to ask about the part where he said ‘yet’ but Beel’s roaring stomach made it cue, signaling that it’s time to grab a bite after training. Perhaps it’s best to drop it for now, there are more important matters such as making sure Beel gets something to eat before he throws a fit.

The next few practices, you noticed the aggressive behavior Beel is displaying during Fangol training. You know that it’s just a violent form of Football, but you’ve watched Beel purposely launch the ball onto his teammates faces and tackle them hard against the ground when he gets the chance.

Only Belphie knows the truth of why his twin is acting that way, but he tells you not to think about it too much. “Don’t worry, he’s just letting out some steam” He says, unfazed when he spots his twin hurling himself against his teammate and tackling him to the point he’s sure it could cause a concussion.

Belphie

Belphie may be Sloth incarnate, but there’s no denying that he’s smart when it comes to studies. You see him with high marks in class despite never catching him awake during the lectures. You’d see him sleep with his head next to a book and he wakes up like he knows everything in it’s contents.

You ask for his help with an upcoming report you have for your next class and even though he wanted to tease you about it, he can see that you’re a little nervous about it so he keeps that to himself and agrees to fill in the gaps of your knowledge.

Belphie originally wanted to just telepathically tell you what to say, that’s an easy way out right? But you told him that it’s cheating and you want to study hard. Belphie playfully rolls his eyes but he does it your way and answers your questions on the topic. He doesn’t overwhelm you with information, but he helps tutor you so that you can have a bit of faith in yourself when you present to the class.

He put in an effort to stay awake when it was your turn to present and he has this sleepy smile on his face whenever you two made eye contact. You put in a lot of effort in your report, and he feels happy for you when you finish without problems. He’ll congratulate you when he wakes up because he has no energy to listen for the rest of the lecture and sleeps on the desk.

Belphie woke up by the time class had ended and everyone was already preparing for break time. He peeks through his bangs to see that you probably already went ahead to the cafeteria and he was about to follow suit when he overheard a particular conversation between his classmates that were still in the room.

He thought they were talking about your report but it turns out that wasn’t the case. He hears all the disgusting things they were saying about you and it’s taking every bit of self control he has to stay calm, his fingers gripping onto the desk that there’s bound to be claw marks.

The demons hardly noticed Belphie and talked without a care in the world as they’re about to exit the classroom. Though their bodies started feeling heavy and they were getting sluggish, like reaching the exit is suddenly a taxing thing to do. Eventually their bodies drop, hardly having the energy to move no matter how much they try.

Belphie is standing above them, looking down on them as if he was staring at two piles of trash on the floor. “They spent so much effort on that report… I'm not going to let lowlifes like you tarnish all that.”

You were about to head back to the classroom with a snack you bought for Belphie as thanks for helping you, until you saw the demon just exit the room and close the door behind him. You tease him for oversleeping again before handing him the Devil Pudding cup you got for him.

Belphie accepts the treat, and he’d tease you about looking so nervous before your report but he’ll praise you afterwards. “You worked so hard after all. You could’ve taken the easy way out or something, but you didn’t. You should be proud of yourself too…”

When you two went back to the classrooms, you noticed some empty seats of what was previously occupied by your classmates. Someone told you that they started feeling ‘unwell’ and were sent to the clinic. No one really knows what happened to the demons.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

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anonymousewrites · 3 months

Text

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Two

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Two: Commercial Problems

Summary: While Charlie goes to speak to Heaven, the hotel tries to put together a proper TV advertisement (with many interruptions)

(Y/N) had decided they didn’t like the extermination. The screams, the explosions, the angels—it was frustrating. Luckily, in the Hotel, they were removed from the killing and could just sit and wait for things to finish. However, Alastor had gathered everyone together to “show them something” (which, as everyone had learned already, meant everyone was about to be made fun of).

Alastor switched on the old-timey TV he had permitted in the hotel, and it turned on to reveal an…ad?

“Well, hello there you wayward sinner!” said Alastor’s voice as it displayed him pointing at two fighting demons. “Do you like bloody, violence, and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell!” The camera zoomed out to reveal a destroyed quarter of Hell. “But what would you say if there was a place to stay that had none of that?” The camera switched to the hotel. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter!”

The camera faced Charlie, and she waved hesitantly. “Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your fate in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun things! Such as a somewhat functional staff, and twenty-four-hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversations with our only two guests!” The camera faced Angel and (Y/N). Angel gave the middle finger, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes, knowing something was up. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!”

The video ended, and everyone stared while Alastor perked up, proud of himself.

“So, what’d ya think?” he said.

“I’m sorry, what the fuck was that?” said Vaggie angrily.

“Uh, yeah, one note…” said Charlie awkwardly. “Alastor, I mean—First off, thank you so much for making this, it’s seriously amazing—but, um, maybe the tone is a bit off?” Alastor’s grin just darkened. “We want people to want to come here. This makes it look, um…”

“Fucking depressing,” suggested (Y/N).

“Funny. I was going for hilarious!” said Alastor.

Vaggie narrowed her eyes. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.”

“Vaggie is right, Alastor,” said Charlie. “The commercial was to let Sinners know we are trying to help them!”

“Well, my dear, I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show!” Alastor’s grin widened. “The proper medium to express oneself. But you insist on this: a noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.”

“Oh, fun. You had a little fun with it?” said Vaggie. She crossed her arms. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us! Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

Angel raised his hand.

“What?” said Vaggie.

“If ya filmin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” said Angel, posing.

“Ew,” said (Y/N), and Angel stuck out his tongue at them. Neither took it to heart. (Y/N) liked being able to speak their mind in Hell, and Angel would just give an equally witty retort when they did, so they both thrived in conversation.

“Angel, you’re a porn star,” said Vaggie.

“A famous porn star,” said Angel. “I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ these walls down to get in.”

“I would really prefer not to have perverts in the hotel,” said (Y/N), making a face.

“Yeah, no!” said Vaggie. “Not only do we have a kid here, but filming porn as the commercial is completely out of the question!”

“Sex sells,” said Angel. “I swear, if you film me goin’ at it with Mr. Fancy-Talk-Creepy-Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants willin’ to stay at the tacky hotel.”

Alastor looked unimpressed. “Haha! Never going to happen. Besides, like Vagatha said, we couldn’t create such an environment for an impressionable child. What would Charlie think?”

“Yeah, it sounds like a bad idea…” said Charlie, looking at (Y/N).

“Is everyone choosing to ignore the fact I killed people?” said (Y/N).

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but I really don’t want to exploit you in that way,” said Charlie, smiling.

“Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited,” said Angel. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, I got the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits—”

“Should I just say ‘ew’ after everything you say to get you to stop?” said (Y/N).

“Won’t stop me!” declared Angel.

Charlie’s phone went off, and she hurriedly picked it up. “Uh, hold that thought. I’ll be right back!” She walked off to answer.

“Hey, I have a question,” said Angel. He looked at Alastor. “If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?”

Alastor laughed. “Oh, trust me. I can.”

“Why do you think I’m here?” said Husk. “You actually think I’d be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn’t forcin’ me?”

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” teased Angel.

“Call me ‘Whiskers’ again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat,” threatened Husk.

“Kinky! Come on, keep talkin’ dirty!” said Angel.

“Until you let me have a drink, I’m not happy you’re here,” muttered (Y/N), glaring at Husk.

“Princess over there says no, so no,” said Husk.

“What the fuck is the point of being in Hell if I don’t get to do anything fun?” grumbled (Y/N).

“I agree! Why not let the child have a good time? That’s what the hotel is for,” said Alastor.

“See? He agrees,” said (Y/N), gesturing to Alastor.

“That is a terrible argument,” said Vaggie. “He just wants you to get into trouble!”

“I’m in Hell. What more could I do without making a deal with someone, which I’m not doing?” said (Y/N).

“Indeed,” said Alastor, nodding. “Why not enjoy some entertainment and enjoy oneself?”

“Stop it,” hissed Vaggie. “This is supposed to be about rehabilitation and redemption, people choosing to stay here.”

“I’m choosing to stay here, and I think it’s all stupid,” said Angel. “We’re in Hell, toots. That’s kind of the end of the road, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be,” said Vaggie. “Just because nobody has made it out before doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

“Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin’ here rent-free,” said Angel. “Crack is expensive.”

“Haha! Yes!” cheered Charlie, bounding back into the room. “Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“What?” asked Vaggie.

Charlie gestured for her to come over, and Vaggie smiled fondly at her girlfriend before walking over. (Y/N) and Angel exchanged inquisitive looks. A moment later, Charlie slipped into song, which meant she was super excited.

(Charlie) “I can do this, Somehow, I know it, I’ll get Heaven behind my plan!”

So she’s meeting with Heaven? thought (Y/N).

“Charlie, hold on,” said Vaggie nervously.

(Charlie) “There’s just no way I could blow it! Not this once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

“It’s just a meeting,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “To change their minds, And touch their hearts, Or whatever angels have.”

“This could be bad,” said Vaggie.

(Charlie) “Cheer up, Vaggie! This could be swell! Something tells me that today will be a happy day, In Hell!”

“Okay, but just…don’t sing to them,” advised Vaggie.

“She’s gone,” said (Y/N).

“That bitch is halfway down the street,” laughed Angel as everyone looked out the door to watch Charlie go.

“Is she—”

“She’s dancing, yeah,” confirmed (Y/N).

Vaggie groaned. “Ugh, no.”

“Is this going to go badly?” asked (Y/N).

“It might go alright,” said Vaggie optimistically.

“It’s going to be an absolute travesty,” said Alastor brightly.

“In an entertaining way or in the way that we’re going to end up in trouble?” said (Y/N).

“Both, hopefully!” said Alastor, looking forward for his own amusement.

Vaggie groaned and put her head in her hands.

“Well, I’m gonna go out and find something actually fun to do!” chirped Angel.

“No, nope, nobody’s going anywhere!” said Vaggie. “We’re all sitting down and making a proper commercial that actually helps the hotel!”

“Uh-oh, does that mean you expect me to be involved?” said (Y/N).

“Yes,” said Vaggie.

“I hate being told what to do,” said (Y/N).

“Tough shit,” said Vaggie.

“Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important,” said Vaggie once she had cornered everyone in one room. “So while she’s gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we’re doing here. So, we need a camera. Alastor?”

He snapped his finger, and an old-fashioned photographic camera appeared.

Vaggie deadpanned. “A video camera.”

“Hm.” Alastor was unimpressed with the idea, but he snapped his fingers nonetheless and let a video camera appear.

“Alright, let’s do this!” said Vaggie.

First up was a scene with Husk and Angel.

“And…action!” said Vaggie, pointing the camera at them.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel,” said Husk, reading from the script. “Can I help you with anything?”

“I’ve been a bad boy,” said Angel. “And I need a big strong daddy to put me in my place! On the path to redemption!”

“Well, you’ve come—”

“Oh, yes!” Angel cut off Husk.

“To the right place,” finished Husk, rolling his eyes.

“Cut,” said Vaggie, sighing. “Okay, Angel, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Husk, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?”

“I ain’t no actor!” said Husk. “I can’t memorize this shit!”

“Well, we could always improv this shit, Baby cakes,” purred Angel.

Husk shoved him off the counter.

Vaggie sighed and looked back at (Y/N) and Alastor.

“This is going great,” said (Y/N) with a grin.

“Oh, yes, splendidly!” said Alastor.

Vaggie growled and was tempted to grab her spear as she was faced with shit-eating grins.

Next was Niffty’s scene, but she was more interested in stabbing insects than she was the camera.

“Stab, stab, stab!” said Niffty.

“Alright, Niffty! Niffty!” said Vaggie, catching her attention. “Your line is ‘We have the cleanest rooms.’ Okay?”

“Got it! I’m ready!” said Niffty.

“Action.” Vaggie turned on the camera.

Niffty’s smile fell, and she stared, wide-eyed, at the camera.

“Uh…cut,” said Vaggie, slightly unnerved.

“How was that?” said Niffty, smiling.

“Well, Niffty, you actually have to say the line. Let’s roll again,” said Vaggie.

“Okay!” said Niffty.

“Action,” said Vaggie.

Niffty once again just stared, empty-eyed.

“You’re doing great, Vagina,” whispered Angel.

“Cut!” shouted Vaggie. “Alright, um, maybe we can try to fix it in post.”

“Do you even know what that means?” teased Angel.

“I’ll figure it out!” snapped Vaggie. “(Y/N), Alastor, you’re up.”

“No, I don’t get on camera,” said Alastor, dismissing the word “camera” distastefully.

“I don’t want any attention,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms. They really weren’t a fan of having people stare at them, and a commercial would do that, especially for something as crazy as this.

Vaggie glared. “This is for Charlie.”

Alastor and (Y/N) remained unmoved and crossed their arms.

Vaggie cursed under her breath.

(Y/N) knocked on the door of the room Vaggie was using to rewatch the footage she’d managed to get.

“What?” snapped Vaggie.

“Listen, I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), holding up their hands. “I really don’t. But if I can help in some other way, I’ll do it.”

Vaggie groaned and put her head on her hands. “I don’t know how you can help. It all sucks.”

“Yes, seems like you’re having a bit of trouble there, hm?” said Alastor, popping out of the shadows.

“Why are you even here?” snapped Vaggie.

“For the entertainment!” said Alastor, shrugging. “I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly!” He beamed at Vaggie. “Like you are doing now! Good job!”

Vaggie narrowed her eyes and pointed the video camera at Alastor. “And here’s Alastor, the egocentric piece of shit that—” the camera buzzed with electricity, and Vaggie was forced to drop it as it sparked.

“I wouldn’t try that, my dear,” said Alastor. “This face was made for radio.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they were struck with Alastor’s intimidating presence once again. Holy hell, they wanted strength like that.

“I don’t care who or what you are!” said Vaggie ferociously. “If you are staying here, you are going to make this work! Because it won’t be so ‘entertaining’ to watch over an empty hotel, will it, shitass?!”

“Fair enough! I’ll tell you what,” said Alastor. “Let’s make a deal.”

Vaggie scoffed. “Do you think I’m that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.”

“Not for your soul,” scoffed Alastor. “Just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again.”

“You really hate tv,” said (Y/N).

“It’s the worst medium for expressing oneself,” said Alastor distastefully. “So petty and uninspired.”

“That’s all you want?” said Vaggie, furrowing her brow.

“That, or Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing,” said Alastor brightly. “Your choice.”

Vaggie sighed. “Fine.” She put the broken camera in Alastor’s hand, and it disappeared.

Green light surrounded him, and he snapped his fingers. “Now, then!”

Everyone appeared in the room and got 1920s themed outfits, and a camera crew of shadows appeared ready to serve.

Vaggie smiled. “Alright, everyone! Let’s make a fucking commercial!”

(Y/N) took a careful step back while Vaggie grabbed the others to film.

“Still not interested?” said Alastor, amused.

“I don’t want to be on camera,” said (Y/N), making a face and shaking their head.

“What do you think of radio?” said Alastor.

(Y/N) shrugged. “Better than podcasts.”

Alastor’s grin widened, and he nodded in satisfaction. That was the correct answer.

“Charlie!” Vaggie hugged her girlfriend as she finally returned to the hotel. “How’d it go? Did they listen?”

“Oh, uh, they sure did hear it! But, uh…” Charlie trailed off nervously.

“Oh, come here! We have something exciting to show you!” said Vaggie. “Alastor pulled some strings, and it’s about to air!”

“I pulled a few limbs, too!” laughed Alastor. (Y/N) snickered.

“Wait? The commercial?” said Charlie, eyes widening. “You all made a new one?”

“Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do say so myself,” said Angel proudly.

“That’s…that’s amazing!” Charlie’s eyes shone with emotion.

“Shush, it’s starting!” said Angel.

The TV showed them in their outfits. ((Y/N) had contributed by filming). “Welcome to the Hazbin Ho—”

Vaggie’s lines were cut off as the TV switched to a “Breaking News” sign, and the residents and staff of Hazbin Hotel grumbled.

“Breaking news in Hell today!” said Katie Killjoy as she came onscreen. “We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before. Do you know what that means, Tom?”

“No, what does it mean, Katie?” asked Tom Trench.

“It means we are all royally fucked,” cursed Katie.

The camera switched to the countdown clock as it cut in half to 176 days.

“Wait…what?! Why?!” cried Angel.

“Holy shit,” said (Y/N), eyes widening. Their situation had just gotten worse. They were in more danger.

And they still had no way to defend themself.

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232 notes · View notes

silverskye13 · 2 months

Note

Mind control tanguish?? (i was gunna offer time loop for the hell-raisers as another one, but ut canon is Basically a time loop aint it SO!! Make tanguish do something wild)

Helsknight hummed tunelessly under his breath as he cooked dinner, piling some chicken and mushrooms into a pan to fry. He didn't know when Tanguish would be home [every trip to Hermitcraft was a gamble, when it came to time] but he figured whenever the little pest came home, he would be hungry. Besides that, Helsknight was hungry, so he might as well do something about it. Worst case scenario, he would just reheat a plate for Tanguish on the furnace when he got here. Or threw away wasted food. The point was he was hungry, so it wasn't wasted time at least. He pulled some flour out from a cabinet, frowning down at it and wondering what his chances of making a decent gravy were.

[Gravy was the bane of cooking. It either turned out like wallpaper paste, or it turned out like soup. Rarely, when every god and saint turned their greatest blessings on Helsknight for a moment, and every star in every heaven aligned, and every angel and allay and fairy-dust creature held its breath and crossed it's fingers, he would make a passable gravy.]

Helsknight sighed, tossed a few spoonfuls of flour into a pan, and resigned to try his luck. He didn't feel very lucky today, but then again, any day he made gravy, he didn't feel lucky, even if it did taste good in the end.

"I should learn how to bake," he grumbled to himself, eyeing the little bag of flour dispassionately. Tanguish would certainly appreciate it, and it would be cheaper to make a batch of muffins from scratch, instead of buying them from a cart four times a week. Helsknight stirred his fledgling gravy absentmindedly, waiting for the flour to brown, and considering his chances of finding a half-decent cookbook the next time he went to the market. Behind him he heard a clatter of claws, the unmistakable noise of Tanguish stepping into hels. A soft breath of chill dampened the room like a breeze. Helsknight threw a glance over his shoulder.

"Hey, what's your opinion on homemade--?"

Instinct made Helsknight slam to the side as Tanguish propelled himself over the kitchen island, Helsknight's rondel dagger in his hand. The point dug itself into the wall over the stove at about chest-height, a very intentional, very lethal lunge. It missed him by a decent margin; Helsknight was quick, even when he was caught off-guard. That one look over his shoulder, and years of Colosseum training and instincts, had saved his life.

Anger, hot and baffled and electric, raced through Helsknight's chest. He backpedaled towards their little dining table as Tanguish yanked the dagger out of the wall. He needed distance, he needed room to move. [He needed a house that wasn't so saints-damned small.]

"Tanguish, what in hels--?!" Helsknight managed before Tanguish was lurching for him again, a sharp, quick, dagger-pointed shadow dappled in flickering stars. Helsknight snapped a hand out, trying to bat him aside, only for Tanguish to duck nimbly beneath his outstretched arm. The dagger stabbed in towards him again, and Helsknight barely twisted away in time.

"Tanguish! Stop!" Helsknight shouted, confusion and adrenaline crashing together in his chest, muddling up his instincts. His training, his impulse, his experience in the Colosseum, demanded he fight back. He was unarmed [why would he stay armed and armored in the safety of his own home, when he planned to stay in the rest of the day?] but that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He knew a few ways of disarming someone with his bare hands, and he knew how to punch, and kick, and break bones. But his louder, conscious mind screamed at him this is Tanguish! He can't break Tanguish.

Tanguish didn't give him long to be horrified by the thought. He was lunging again, arrow-quick, and this time when Helsknight jolted backwards the blade nicked his out-flung arm. He didn't know if he was proud, or if he regretted how sharp the blade was -- his training had come in handy.

[It was marvelous really, how deadly his little pest could be when he put his mind to it. Helsknight had always thought Tanguish learned more than he let on. He was simply too scared of causing harm to use it. But he wasn't scared of causing harm now. No, he seemed hels-bent on shredding Helsknight where he stood, and he didn't know why.]

"Could you at least tell me what the hels I did to bring this on?" Helsknight demanded, a grin writhing across his teeth. It was something he knew intimidated people, intimidated Tanguish. There was something about baring teeth while fighting that seemed dangerous. If Tanguish cared, it didn't show, and he didn't respond. He just crouched low and gazed back at him, eyes half-shut in something like concentration. It gave him the look of a sleepwalker, and Helsknight didn't like it. He was used to the wide, curious, cat-like gaze, glittering in dandelion yellow.

"Tanguish?" Helsknight breathed, taking advantage of the pause. "Look, I don't want to hurt you--"

Tanguish lunged again when he was mid-sentence, something that might have killed him, if he hadn't seen Martyn do it a thousand times. Even with that knowledge, he almost reacted too late, side-stepping and slamming a heavy palm into Tanguish's shoulder, tossing him off-balance. Helsknight let out a short breath through his nose when Tanguish regained his feet, undaunted.

"I'm not running away," Helsknight said witheringly, dashing for the door. He could feel Tanguish following like a wasp over his shoulder, more the impression of danger than a true knowledge of what he was doing. Helsknight ducked out the door and managed to yank it shut behind him before Tanguish could follow, and was treated to a heavy slam as Tanguish tried to follow. Helsknight held it shut for a second, trying to figure out -- trying to figure out anything.

[Would Tanguish try to break down the door? Surely he couldn't. Even as... weirdly determined as he was to harm Helsknight, that wasn't something he was strong enough to do, especially with Helsknight bracing the other side. But the house had windows. Would Tanguish care about glass? It would cut him to ribbons. He could seriously hurt himself if he -- why was he worried about Tanguish jumping through a window? If the little idiot wanted to deal with a face full of glass--]

Helsknight released the doorknob and stepped aside. He needed to get that knife away, pin him still, preferably without hurting him too badly. His guts gave an uncomfortable squirm.

[How bad is too bad? And why? Why was this happening? It wasn't just strange, it just wasn't Tanguish. He didn't have a dangerous bone in his body.]

The doorknob clicked. Helsknight pressed himself against the wall, hiding behind the door as it swung open. He just needed a few seconds. He was stronger -- that's all he needed. Tanguish stepped onto the street, and before he had the chance to look around, Helsknight lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He lifted Tanguish off his feet, trying to keep the thrashing feet from kicking anything.

"Tanguish, I need you to--"

Tanguish's head snapped back suddenly, slamming into Helsknight's mouth and nose. He swore, and his grip loosened, and Tanguish's sharp elbow dug itself into his side hard enough wince away some of his breath. A clawed foot came down on his ankle, and then Tanguish was twisting, and Helsknight, whose only objective narrowed into [don't get stabbed you fucking idiot] drove a punch into Tanguish's sternum. Tanguish's breath left him in a whoosh, and he curled in on himself a little, some sense of self-preservation kicking in. But he didn't cry out in pain, and he didn't drop the knife.

A lancing, twisting feeling darted through Helsknight's guts. It was a feeling so unfamiliar it was nearly foreign, hard to place, and hesitant to name. Dread. Dread as Tanguish turned that sleepwalker's gaze on him again, re-positioned his dagger to continue fighting. His tail gave a contemplative lash, a cat figuring its best approach on a bird, and it had been a long, long time since Helsknight felt like prey. Dread made his mouth dry, closed his throat, blanked his already reeling thoughts.

[What should he do? What could he do?]

Helsknight took a hesitant step back. Tanguish's eyes narrowed, and glittered blue.

[Blue? Blue. A little ring of blue, like a clear, winter's morning, ringed his yellow iris. That hadn't always been there. He knew the color of Tanguish's eyes.]

"Tanguish, talk to me," Helsknight said, taking another hesitant step back. "What happened? Whatever it is, we can fix this. I promise."

Tanguish let out a slow breath, and the blue ring around his iris seemed to flicker, then flashed brighter. Helsknight swore again as Tanguish pounced. He caught Tanguish's wrist, and might have even considered breaking it, had Tanguish not twisted out of his grip in the second of hesitation he gave in to. Helsknight's perception narrowed to the point of the knife as he dodged it, sidestepped it, and then spun on his heel and ran.

Helsknight needed time to think, needed time to figure out what was, whatever was happening. And he was faster than Tanguish. Even if he couldn't fathom harming him, he would always be faster. And armor-less as he was, he felt unnaturally fleet, near to flying. He was down three blocks, into an alley, over a wall and two more blocks over before he stopped, panting, to check for pursuit.

"I'm not running away," he breathed again, to himself, to his Saint, to Tanguish. He wasn't. He just needed time. He just needed to pull himself together, to figure shit out, to stop shaking. To stop shaking? Helsknight looked down at his hands, at the tremor starting. He swallowed hard.

[Okay, he was a little freaked out. He was allowed to be a little freaked out. His best friend was trying to kill him, and he didn't know why, and apparently the veil between "Nice Normal Tanguish" and "Silent Death-Machine Tanguish" was unnervingly thin. And Helsknight wasn't used to someone trying to kill him assassination-style, through dogged pursuit and bloodless silence. He was used to arena fights, and occasional back-alley brawls, where things were loud and obvious and made fucking sense.]

"I'm going to kill him," Helsknight hissed, stealing down the alley as fast as he dared. He didn't know who he was going to kill. Whoever had done this, maybe. Certainly not Tanguish. He hadn't really tried, physically he thought he could, if he'd just commit. But he had no weapon, and his options for killing his best friend [one of a slim handful of people he would gladly die for] were all slow and grim and painful, and not something he would inflict on anyone willingly.

[He would just have to evade, and try to knock some sense into him? But head wounds were difficult. The margin between unconsciousness and death was illusive, and he was a knight for helssakes he didn't bludgeon people. He was so ill-equipped for something like this, it was staggering. But why would he be equipped for his best friend randomly trying to kill him?]

There was a sound. There must have been. The whisper of breathing. The slide of claws. The crackle of gathering frost. Something set Helsknight's hair prickling, the gooseflesh on his arms raised.

[The rooftops.]

Helsknight didn't have time to look up. Suddenly a weight fell on his shoulders, and he was slamming to the ground. Tanguish's hand dug claws into the back of his neck, his knees dug into his shoulders. Helsknight twisted his whole body as hard as he could, wrenching his elbow back to slam into Tanguish's side. He flipped over, throwing Tanguish off him for just a moment. He got an arm underneath himself, tried to scrabble backwards, boots digging into tiles. Tanguish lunged on top of him again, and Helsknight threw a hand between them. A noise escaped his throat as the knife slashed through the webbing between his thumb and his forefinger, but he managed to wrap his fist around the hilt.

Tanguish was on top of him, bearing his full weight down on the dagger, trying to drive it into his throat. Helsknight clenched his bleeding hand around it, while is other arm scrabbled at the cobblestones, and through the haze of half-panic finally found its way around one of Tanguish's wrists. They were too close. He couldn't make full use of his longer arms, his strength, his leverage, and while his feet scrabbled, Tanguish's long tail twisted out for balance, and he held firm.

There was a buzzing starting in the back of Helsknight's mind, a panic he wasn't used to. His hands shook. His hand was bleeding, and it had to be his hand, didn't it?

[Note to self, Tanguish had laughed once, Helsknight is weak to hand wounds.]

He couldn't pass out. Little sparks and stars crowded his peripheral vision, his awareness narrowed itself to the space between his hands, and the slickness of the dagger, and the tear in the webbing between his fingers, and how stupid that was. A Colosseum gladiator, a knight of Blood and Steel, laid low by a flesh wound.

"Tanguish, you don't want to do this," Helsknight grunted, his voice buried beneath the buzzing of panic and his heartbeat in his ears. "You don't want to hurt me."

Tanguish threw his shoulder forward, and the twist sent tearing pain through his hand, and his grip slipped dangerously. Every muscle in his body tightened in dread and desperation, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched his bloody fist tighter. An undignified wince of a noise squeezed its way out of his throat, but it was better than screaming.

"Okay! Maybe you want to hurt me. Fine." Helsknight grimaced. He could feel the blood from his hand dripping onto his neck. A dangerous foreshadowing of just where the blade was aimed. "Tell me why. Tell me anything."

He managed to crack an eye open, to blink away the blooming stars. He gripped the knife and a spinning world in his bloody hands, and clung to consciousness and life with equal fervor. And Tanguish watched him, impassive and cold, that little blue ring a persistent chain around his iris. It reminded Helsknight of something, something that made his stomach twist. It took a moment to place a coherent thought to the feelings, a long moment where he breathed and shook and bled, and Tanguish watched.

[Wels. The open sky blue of Wels's eyes. Ice dagger blue. He clawed at his memory for any way that made sense, and in his flailing finally remembered what Tanguish had said about those golden, inescapable commands. How far could they compel? Surely not this far. Surely--]

Helsknight swallowed hard.

[Right. He just needed to break the command. That was all. That was all.]

Helsknight reached into himself for any lie of calm, any ghost of reassurance. He tried to steady his voice. Tried to force command, and calm, and certainty into his words. Stilted and shaky, and hoarsely whispered, he half commanded, half pleaded.

"Tanguish, let go of the knife."

Above him, Tanguish blinked. The pressure on the knife didn't relent, nor did the blue ring around his iris.

"Please let go of the knife."

Tanguish's fist balled tighter, and as it did the knife twisted just barely. He felt the burning in his hand, and Helsknight lost his words behind pain that should have been insignificant, and stars and noise in his head.

"You're scaring me," Helsknight whimpered, and then managed more firmly. "You don't scare people. This isn't you. You don't want to do this to me."

He searched Tanguish's eyes again. Was that a flicker in the blue? He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell.

"Helssakes," he swore. His hand grasping Tanguish's wrist reached up to grab the back of Tanguish's head, fingers tangling in his hair. He wished he could force Tanguish to focus, to center that sleepwalker's stare on something other than his general direction. "If you're going to kill me, look at me."

Tanguish blinked again. There was a shimmer in his eyes, and Helsknight winced as a tear dropped onto his face. A grim smile worked its way onto his teeth. No, that blue ring hadn't flickered. Tanguish had simply started crying.

"You're not going to kill me." Helsknight whispered. He closed his eyes, and his voice was a prayer, and it was a command. "You're not going to kill me."

He couldn't tell how much of the shaking in his arm was from him, or from Tanguish. He couldn't tell if the pain in his hand was from pressure, or from the wound. But he knew this was hurting them both, and he needed it over with, one way or another.

"You're not going to kill me."

Helsknight had been killed by wounds to his neck before. The Colosseum was a terrible place to die sometimes. He told himself he could bear it. Told himself if the pain came, he would try to hide the terribleness of it. He wouldn't gasp, or scream, or any of the other horrible, dramatic thrashings a person could do when they bled. He would make himself small and silent. He would respawn, if he could, and he would find his way back here, and he would find a way to fix this. Helsknight released Tanguish, and, eyes closed, braced himself for whatever happened next.

He couldn't stop himself from flinching when a few more teardrops fell on his face. But the blade didn't come. Helsknight dared to crack an eye open.

"Tanguish?"

Tanguish moved, and Helsknight stiffened, only to relax again when the blade clattered to the ground beside them. Helsknight let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and before Tanguish could scramble away from him, or devolve into a blubbering mess, or shake apart or fall under some new spell, or any of a thousand other things Tanguish could probably do, Helsknight wrapped his arms around Tanguish's neck and dragged him into a hug.

"Helsknight--"

"You idiot," Helsknight snapped, crushing Tanguish against his chest. He had the grace to drag them over to the side, so he couldn't bleed quite so much on both of them, but when Tanguish squirmed he held him tighter and refused to let him go. "Don't scare me like that again."

"H-helsknight I'm s-"

"You're sorry," Helsknight interrupted him, screwing his eyes shut, suddenly scared he was going to start crying too. From relief. From the ridiculousness of whatever had happened. From the closeness to disaster. From how angry he was that Tanguish felt the need to apologize. "Gods. I thought I'd lost you."

Tanguish had the audacity to laugh, a miserable hiccup of a noise that tangled itself in growing sobs, and muffled itself against Helsknight's chest. "You thought you lost me?"

"You were so quiet," Helsknight said, feeling dread lance through his stomach like a knife wound. "It's like you weren't even there."

"I was there," Tanguish whispered, his fists balled into Helsknight's shirt, like he could somehow cling closer. "I was there."

"Of course you were," Helsknight murmured back. "Of course you were."

#Situation Asks #RnS asks #helsknight #tanguish #countthelions #you. you knew EXACTLY what you asked for you fiend #tw blood #tw fighting #tw wounds #gosh but it was amazing angsty fun to write #probably won't get to any more of the asks tonight this one took awhile #but feel free to send more #all terrible things happen in the kitchen jsyk #rns ficlet

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morbidsmenagerie · 6 months

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Making Better State Insects

So at some point I stumbled across a list of State Insects. Honestly I wasn't even aware states had "state insects", but as I looked down the list my disappointment grew. A vast majority of states had selected the European honeybee (which is not even native) as their state insect, with monarch butterflies and ladybugs being the two runner ups. I thought this was a damn shame because there's so many interesting insects in the US, so I'm making a better official new list of state insects.

For this list my criteria are:

Insect must be native to the state

No repeats

Insect must be easily observable to the naked eye

I also had general guidelines of picking insects that were relatively common (based on inaturalist heat maps of observation) and picking insects that were cool or interesting. Some of these insects I picked because I thought they were important parts of the areas culture and experience (lovebugs, toebiters, and periodical cicadas) and some insects I picked just to raise awareness that they exist in the US.

I also don't think I gave anyone huge L's, no mosquitoes, louses, cockroaches, ect, because my goal of this list is to get people interested in their native insects and I want it to be fun to find and observe your state insect.

Also some states get gold stars for picking state insects that already meet these criteria and are cool so they get to keep theirs. Some states also have "state butterflies" or "state agricultural insect" which for this list I'm ignoring, you can keep those I'm just focused on state insects. Slight disclaimer also, I've only ever lived in California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, and South Carolina, and all these states are keeping their original state insect. So all the insects I'm choosing are for states I haven't lived in. Also I'm not including photos in this post just for my own sanity.

List under the cut!

Alabama

Old: Monarch Butterfly

New: Giant Leaf-footed Bug (Acanthocephala declivis)

Leaf-footed bugs are cute, they're big, they're stanced up, the males have big back legs, you've probably seen them. Being true bugs they have piercing mouthparts and suck plant juices.

Alaska

Four-spot Skimmer (Libellula quadrimaculata)

Alaska gets to keep their old state insect, it's a cool dragonfly and apparently was partially chosen to honor bush pilots who fly to deliver supplies in the Alaskan wilderness, so really cool!

Arizona

Two-tailed swallowtail butterfly (Papilio multicaudata)

Arizona also gets to keep their state insect. Kind of a shame because Arizona has a lot of cool species, but it did meet my requirements and they get points for choosing a different kind of butterfly.

Arkansas

Old: European honeybee

New: North American Wheel Bug (Arilus cristatus)

One of the largest assassin bugs in the US, these guys are appreciated by gardeners for their environmentally friendly pest control. They also look badass.

California

California Dogface Butterfly (Zerene eurydice)

Endemic to California and on a stamp! Again, kind of a shame because there's a lot of cool insects in California, but I respect this choice, especially since California was the first state to designate a state insect (1929).

Colorado

Colorado Hairstreak Butterfly (Hypaurotis crysalus)

Same deal as California, the state's name is in the common name, unique butterfly found in the four corners region. Just get a stamp or something soon!

Connecticut

Old: European Praying Mantis

New: Cecropia Moth (Hyalophora cecropia)

You picked a state insect no one else had but went with a nonnative mantis? Here's an insect that'll make you stand out and it's a native species. Lesser known than some of the other giant silk moths, the Cecropia moth is the largest native moth and has some truly stunning colors.

Delaware

Old: Convergent Ladybeetle

New: Periodical Cicada (Magicicada septendecim)

Cicada's had to be somewhere on this list and Delaware was one of the main hotspots for brood X, one of the largest broods of the multiple staggered brood cycles. Hey, they have a lot of history in America. Accounts go back as early as 1733, with Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin making a note of them.

District of Columbia

Old: None

New: Monarch Butterfly (Danaus plexippus)

The Entomological Society of America is trying to get the Monarch Butterfly added as our national insect, so I think that's reason enough to let DOC claim it.

Florida

Zebra Butterfly (Heliconius charithonia)

Florida gets to keep their state butterfly, but the populations that have existed in Florida are in steep decline. Ideally I would want being the official state insect to come with some protections, hopefully people can get invested in reintroducing them.

Georgia

Old: European Honeybee

New: Horned Passalus Beetle (Odontotaenius disjunctus)

Also called bess beetles or patent-leather beetles, these cute guys are important for forest systems because they eat decaying wood, helping to break down felled trees. They're cute beetles that squeak when disturbed.

Hawaii

Kamehameha Butterfly (Vanessa tameamea)

An endemic Hawaiian butterfly named after a ruling dynasty of Hawaii. Their population is under threat, as with a lot of native Hawaiian species, so I think this is a good state insect to build protections and activism around.

Idaho

Old: Monarch Butterfly

New: Ice Crawler (Grylloblatta sp. "Polaris Peak")

Look Idaho, I have to admit that even though I've traveled extensively through WA, OR, CA, and NV I've never stepped foot in Idaho and I don't intend to. Your state exists in a weird liminal zone, not really the pacific northwest but not really whatever Montana is either. Your state isn't even all in one time zone. So look, I really wanted ice crawlers to be on this list, but they're exclusively found on mountains in the pacific northwest and Sierra Nevadas. Normally I would've given them to Washington or Oregon, but those states already have state insects that work for them. So your state gets ice crawlers, and they do exist in Idaho in the panhandle. It's not an L, ice crawlers are amazing extremophiles that crawl over snow in high elevation mountain peaks. They exist in their own unique order and theres only one genus in the US, with different species being region locked, sometimes onto specific mountains. Their thermoregulation is so delicate, the warmth of someones hand holding them causes them to over heat and die. They're cool, unique, and weird, and let's face it so is your state. At least I didn't take a cop out by picking the potato bug.

Illinois

Old: Monarch Butterfly

New: Red-banded Leafhopper (Graphocephala coccinea)

Leafhopper done Chicago style.

Indiana

Old: Say's Firefly

New: Common True Katydid (Pterophylla camellifolia)

I wanted to give you Say's Firefly. I really did. But when I looked on Inaturalist not A SINGLE OBSERVATION was listed for the species in Indiana. I'm even going to post pictures.

So even though this is extremely funny I'm giving your state the Common True Katydid instead. Large, loud, and easy to spot, these guys can frequently be heard chirping in trees. Not only do different populations have different rates of chirp, but the rate of chirp is also so predictably dependent on temperature that you could make an equation to tell the temperature based on chirp rate.

Iowa

Old: None

New: Westfall's Snaketail (Ophiogomphus westfalli)

Really cool clubtail dragonfly that's almost exclusively found in Iowa, Missouri, and Arkansas.

Kansas

Old: European Honeybee

New: Rainbow Scarab (Phanaeus vindex)

A kind of true dung beetle, they play an important role in removing waste. And although they don't roll waste like the stereotypical dung beetles, they are extremely pretty.

Kentucky

Viceroy Butterfly (Limenitis archippus)

This is fine.

Louisiana

Old: European Honeybee

New: Lovebug (Plecia nearartica)

Look, one of the southern states was going to get this one and Louisiana has a majority of the observations for them. Although annoying, it's things like having to scrape thousands of flies off your car that makes the Southern experience. Embrace it!

Maine

Old: European Honeybee

New: Brown Wasp Mantidfly (Climaciella brunnea)

I really wanted these guys to be somewhere on the list. Neither a wasp, mantis, or fly, these are predatory neuropterans related to lacewings. They have raptorial front legs (resembling a mantis) and their coloration resembles paper wasps that they live alongside. Weird, unique, and wonderful!

Maryland

Baltimore Checkerspot Butterfly (Euphydryas phaeton)

This butterfly might've been picked for the resemblance of the state flag. It's in decline in it's native range, so hopefully more awareness and consideration to state insects will help push conservation efforts.

Massachusetts

Old: Ladybug

New: Hornet Clearwing Moth (Paranthrene simulans)

Hornet mimic moth, the caterpillars feed on chestnuts and oaks. All lepidopterans (moths and butterflies) have modified hairs on their wings that form the "scales" that give this order their name. For this moth though, parts of it's wings don't have any scales so it more convincingly resembles a hornet. Underneath the scales, butterfly and moth wings look pretty much like any other insect's wing. Cool!

Michigan

Old: None

New: American Salmonfly (Pteronarcys dorsata)

The biggest salmonfly in North America. They make excellent fishing bait, and several fly fisherman use salmonfly lures to catch trout. Their nymphs are also an important indicator of water quality, with them being one of the first species to disappear in the presence of pollution or contaminants.

Minnesota

Old: Monarch Butterfly

New: American Giant Water Bug (Lethocerus americanus)

Also one of the ones that had to be on the list somewhere, and the Inat heatmap says Minnesota. Toebiters are part of the experience, and they are cool and ferocious looking.

Mississippi

Old: European Honeybee

New: Eastern Eyed Click Beetle (Alaus oculatus)

Click beetles have a cool adaption that allows them to launch themselves in the air to avoid predators. This makes an audible sound, hence their common name. The Eastern Eyed Click Beetle is one of the largest and most striking click beetles in the US, with large false eyespots on their thorax.

Missouri

Old: European Honeybee

New: Goldenrod Soldier Beetle (Chauliognathus pensylvanicus)

A soldier beetle that feeds on aphids and small plant pests, these beetles also eat pollen and nectar from flowers. They don't harm the flower, and though their common name reflects their preference for goldenrod flowers, they're also an important pollinator of the prairie onion (Allium stellatum). This is a native species of onion that grows from Minnesota to Arkansas.

Montana

Old: Mourning Cloak

New: Western Sheep Moth (Hemileuca eglanterina)

Mourning Cloak butterflies do technically work for my criteria, but I wanted to showcase some more regional insects in this as well, as Mourning Cloaks are found throughout North America and Eurasia. The Western Sheep Moth is an absolutely stunning giant silk moth, found throughout the western United States. Although not as big as some other silk moths, the bold orange and black coloration on these make them absolutely stand out.

Nebraska

Old: European Honeybee

New: Blowout Tiger Beetle (Cicindela lengi)

A tiger beetle with unique patterns, these guys are active predators and are particularly difficult to spot because they run extremely quickly. They seem to be pretty cold tolerant and exist from Colorado up into Canada.

Nevada

Vivid Dancer Damselfly (Argia Vivida)

This damselfly was picked as Nevada's state insect because it's widespread throughout the state and matches the state colors, silver and blue. That gets my seal of approval!

New Hampshire

Two-spotted Lady Beetle (Adalia bipunctata)

This is fine.

New Jersey

Old: European Honeybee

New: Margined Calligrapher (Toxomerus marginatus)

A pretty hoverfly, they strongly resemble bees in both looks and behavior. Larvae feed on common plant pests such as thrips and aphids, while the adults sip nectar and pollinate flowers. These helpful attributes make it something the Garden State can appreciate!

New Mexico

Tarantula Hawk (Pepsis grossa)

New Mexico wins the official state insect list by a landslide. Not only is the tarantula hawk a super cool and formidable insect to showcase, but New Mexico's state butterfly (Sandia Hairstreak) was discovered in New Mexico. No notes 10/10!

New York

Nine-spotted Lady Beetle (Coccinella novemnotata)

A native species of lady beetle that's been in decline in recent years, New York is one of the last remaining states where they've been spotted. I also appreciate that New York designated a specific ladybug species instead of just saying "Coccinellidae species".

North Carolina

Old: European Honeybee

New: Eastern Rhinoceros Beetle (Xyloryctes jamaicensis)

A large native species of rhinoceros beetle. They breed in ash trees, and are under threat due to competition from the Emerald Ash Borer.

North Dakota

Old: None

New: Nuttall's Blister Beetle (Lytta nuttalli)

As with all blister beetles, these guys have a chemical defense. Unlike the more famous Bombardier Beetle thought, instead of being black and red they are iridescent red/purple and green.

Ohio

Old: Ladybug

New: Bald-faced Hornet (Dolichovespula maculata)

Look, when the one thing everyone knows about your state is that it sucks, it's time to lean into it. Bald-faced hornets, everyone knows them, everyone has opinions about them, and they get a lot of attention. I don't think I have to explain this one anymore.

Oklahoma

Old: European Honeybee

New: Giant Walking Stick (Megaphasma denticrus)

The largest insect in the United States. Being a native walking stick, they're less damaging than the imported invasive walking sticks that are heavily controlled.

Oregon

Oregon Swallowtail Butterfly (Papilio oregonius)

Oregon in the common name and in the species name, and also has a stamp!

Pennsylvania

Pennsylvania Firefly (Photuris pensylvanica)

Pennsylvania in the common name and species name. If fireflies weren't already on this list I would've made sure to include them somewhere.

Rhode Island

American Burying Beetle (Nicrophorus americanus)

When I saw this on the list I was worried. American Burying Beetles are one of my favorite insects, but they're extremely endangered now. I also thought they existed more in the midwest, so I was worried I would have to change this one because it violated the "native to the region" rule. But! To my pleasant surprise, not only did their historic range extend to Rhode Island, but there is actually a carefully maintained wild population on Block Island. They estimate between 750-1000 individuals live there, making it one of the few remaining places where the American Burying Beetle still exists. Excellent work Rhode Island!

South Carolina

Carolina Mantis (Stagmomantis carolina)

This is fine. I wanted to give South Carolina the Palmetto bug but they're actually not native.

South Dakota

Old: European Honeybee

New: Golden Northern Bumble Bee (Bombus fervidus)

"Save the bees" should really be focused on native pollinators, many of whom are in decline. There are a lot of species of native bee you can feature as a state insect, with the Golden Northern Bumble Bee being a particularly large and striking species.

Tennessee

Old: Firefly and ladybug

New: Black-waved Flannel Moth (Megalopyge crispata)

Seriously look them up, these guys are adorable.

Texas

Old: Monarch Butterfly

New: Rainbow Grasshopper (Dactylotum bicolor)

It was really hard to pick an insect for your state. The Texas Unicorn Mantis was a contender but I eliminated it because it's really only found in the southern part of Texas, so it was between the Rainbow Grasshopper and the Eastern Velvet Ant (or Cow Killer). I went with the Rainbow Grasshopper because it's more wide spread and common, and occurs everywhere except the east part of Texas. But the Eastern Velvet Ant only occurs on the east part of Texas, maybe you should get an East and West Texas insect? I also thought more people have probably already heard of the Eastern Velvet Ant than the Rainbow Grasshopper, which is a shame because they're super interesting to look at.

Utah

Old: European Honeybee

New: Mormon Cricket (Anabrus simplex)

Mormon Crickets are not true crickets, and instead closer related to katydids. Their common name comes from an early account of Latter-day Saint settlers in Utah. In 1848, a swarm of Mormon Crickets decimated the settler's crops, so the legend goes that they prayed for relief from this plague of insects. Later that year, a swarm of gulls appeared and ate the crickets, thus saving the crops. This is recounted in the "miracle of the gulls" story. To recognize their contributions, the California Gull is commemorated as Utah's state bird. I thought it was fitting then that the Mormon Cricket be recognized as your state insect.

Vermont

Old: European Honeybee

New: Long-tailed Giant Ichneumon Wasp (Megarhyssa macrurus)

A pretty wasp with an extremely long ovipositor, these wasps are common in deciduous forests across the eastern United States. They can't sting, and instead use their long ovipositor to stab into tree bark and deposit eggs on the horntail larvae that burrow into the trees.

Virginia

Old: Eastern Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly

New: Giant Stag Beetle (Lucanus elaphus)

A large stag beetle native to the Eastern United States. Although not as well known as their similar looking fellow stag beetles from Japan, these guys are a lovely chocolate brown instead of solid black. Like most stag beetles, they breed in decaying wood.

Washington

Green Darner Dragonfly (Anax junius)

I imagine this was chosen because it matches the flag.

West Virginia

Old: European Honeybee

New: Appalachian Tiger Beetle (Cicindela ancocisconensis)

This tiger beetle likes hilly terrain. As with all tiger beetles, they can be hard to spot because they run across the ground in search of prey. They are fast! But this can make it more rewarding when you finally catch up to one.

Wisconsin

Old: European Honeybee

New: Phantom Crane Fly (Bittacomorpha clavipes)

Don't believe old wive's tales about crane flies drinking gallons of blood, they are nonbiting. Those striking black and white legs are hollow, and are held out when they fly, making an extremely distinct sight that's been likened to sparklers or snowflakes.

Wyoming

Sheridan's Hairstreak (Callophrys sheridanii)

This is fine.

#insect #insects #state insect #long post #list #text post #entomology #bugblr #invertebrates #invertiblr #inverts #invert

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hyperfixat · 1 year

Text

Yandere Lucifer (the brothers are also here and in love but we aren’t terribly focused on them.) ABSOLUTELY NOT BETA READ ‼️

more under cut :p .. ~2.2k words

pt2

Lucifer who lets you in his office, on the clause that you don’t cause trouble or make too much noise. He lets you sit on the carpet, the hardwood floors, the chairs near the fireplace, and even the spot across from him. Such a powerful demon, with a weak spot for you.

So much goes into keeping you alive, even in the comfort of his office, he has to make sure he’s using enough magical energy to dampen and absorb curses from any vinyls he has spinning, so as to not melt your tiny human brain. He has to make sure you have water, keep the room at an adequate temperature, make sure he provides you with human safe snacks, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

Your presence calms the ache in his soul, his head, and his heart.

He’s so far gone into the pits of love, that he’d kill, torture, and slay for you. Even on a whim. Sure he had a pact with you, but you wouldn’t need to use it, he’d follow you wherever. A loyal dog is the Morningstar.

And you, you don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him, his brothers, those worthy to be around you. It’s maddening, your naïvety. So many demons, hungry for your flesh and soul, but you just.

Everything about you drives him further into love, borderline obsession. You’re perfect. He barely has to do a thing and you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. (He did create a few of them, but still). Don’t you understand he’d give you the world? Anything for you…

His fountain pen scratches away at the endless pile of documents on his desk. It never ends. Diavolo wants this, RAD needs that, there's another suit being filed against Mammon… it won’t end. It’s well into the evening, perhaps eleven pm, and you should be asleep by now, but he longs for you to pay him a visit.

He could take a break, a tiny one, head down to your room, where you would surely be, tucked into your bed with one (or more) of his brothers snoring on top of you.

A sigh rips through him.

No, he should just get this work done, then he can rest (hopefully) and see you in a few hours at breakfast.

Mammon, a pest, a loveable pest, but still a pest, had hidden away two weeks worth of bills, ie a lot. Lucifer will not be getting sleep tonight.

“Ah, forgive me,” Lucifer says as he yawns. “I’m afraid I had a rather long night.”

Lucifer, third most powerful denizen of the Devildom, holds a lot of power. At times it has frightened you, how close his slips in emotional control have led you far too near your grave. But more often than not it lulls you into safety.

Your first year in the Devildom, your relationship with Lucifer was quite rocky, seeing as your insubordination was not welcomed, and you pried apart doors that should not be opened, but he managed to fall for you anyway. All your silly, human flaws and quirks melt into oblivion in Pride’s gaze.

It slipped beyond his notice as to when his attachment to you went too far. Lucifer won’t complain, can’t bring himself to even care that he’s so deeply infatuated with you. You do so much for him, his family.

The night you formed your pact and the time spent after, holding you close, keeping your small human body up against his own. It burned a permanent spot in his memory, a figure as large and grand as the Taj Mahal.

Lucifer is far from dumb, his brothers fell for you far before he did, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satan, he can’t pin down where Belphegor grew to love you, but it’s clear he does.

“Is there anything I can help with?” And there it is. You’re so heart achingly kind, to him, to demons. A smile graces his face before falling.

“No, thank you, little one. I appreciate the offer. I should finish up in an hour or so.”

You hum thoughtfully and press a kiss into his hair. “Goodnight, Lucy. Sleep well.”

And how can he not, with you snuggled into his bed, safe. It will always give him an easy rest when you’re with him, because no harm can fall upon you as long as Lucifer is there.

And so, as another year comes to a close and your term at RAD comes to an end, he realizes that he wouldn’t live if he let you go. He needs you to breathe, to function.

It’s silly, more than a little silly, but the ache in his chest that caves deeper and deeper every mommy you’re away will collapse if he can’t hold you, can’t kiss you goodnight, can’t taste the horribly bitter coffee you brew. The Avatar of Pride needs you to feel whole.

The Demon Brothers (New) (7)

Lucifer: Everyone, come to my office after today’s classes end, important discussion.

Mammon: Everyone?!

Levi: Are we in trouble?

Levi: 😨

Asmo: Group Orgy?!!? ☺️

Lucifer: No. It concerns MC, by the way. So tardiness is not acceptable.

Belphie: Are they okay?

Levi: asmo stfu

Beel: Did something happen?

Mammon: 😮

Lucifer: No.

— end discussion.

“We all care deeply for MC. And with your help I have a plan to let them stay with us forever.”

Lucifer does what he does best, justifies his actions. Clearly Mammon keeps his spending under control much better with you around, and Asmodeus won’t bring unsolicited visitors into the House of Lamentation anymore. Satan’s never been harder to deal with than when you’re away, so really, he needs to keep you around. They need to keep you around.

Lucifer doesn’t keep many secrets from Lord Diavolo. This situation is complicated. Diavolo won’t want the Celestial Realm to see you as a hostage, that’d be an act of war, no doubt. But. Lucifer is confident in his brothers and his ability to convince you to stay.

Keeping you under the radar, away from the Prince, will be hard. Harder than locking Belphie away, because his brother knew he was a prisoner. He doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.

It isn’t the first time Lucifer discovered a brother with blood stained clothes and a feral look in their eyes. The frequency of these discoveries have increased exponentially. Mammon and Satan were the obvious offenders, but each and everyone of them have sulked home after a kill since MC has arrived.

It’s an odd sense of vigilantism. In a way. Anyone who dares look at you wrong could face the force of an Avatar.

If they were anyone but the Avatars that they are, surely they’d be prison bound, but being powerful and near worshiped has its perks.

The picture in front of him paints him thick with panic, and anxiety. Mammon is covered in blood. The fear isn’t for his brother, it’s for you. You’ve seen them with evidence of their true nature, humans don’t like that.

Mammon’s ruined everything, but a bitter strike of envy runs through Lucifer when he realizes what you’re doing. Cleaning him up, placing a cutesy human bandage on the single scratch Mammon obtained in his fit.

Lucifer bristles quietly.

“What is this?” His voice makes both of you jump, and you gasp quietly.

“Uh, I, uhm, I fell.” Mammon makes a poor excuse as he takes you into his wingspan protectively. You stumble into his younger brother’s chest and he scoffs.

“Sure.” Lucifer bites sarcastically. “MC, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” He knows he has you cornered and the smug look on his face proves it. When you hesitate and look to Mammon, he quirks an eyebrow.

“He, uh,” you look back at Mammon. “Hhgh. I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Mammon.” Lucifer harshly directs his emotions.

“Agh, they’ve been cleaning me up when I go out, I didn’t mean for them to know, big bro! They just kinda saw me all bloody and started doing it, this.”

“He told me you’d be upset if you knew I saw him like this, but I don’t mind! I like taking care of your brothers.”

Lucifer watches you fiddle with the bandage wrapper in your hands and then at Mammon, holding you at the waist, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Do you even know what he was doing? What any of us do when we go out to return bloodied?” Lucifer raises himself high, a sharp glare in your direction. Even when you flinch slightly he doesn’t back down despite the ache of hurt he feels for your little human heart.

“Uh, I figured it wasn’t my place to ask.”

It takes Lucifer a moment to nod and dismiss himself with a simple, “very well.”

Lucifer

Lucifer: I am not upset with you, MC. I am upset that my brother has been taking advantage of your kindness.

Lucifer: You do know they’ve been killing humans and demons alike? All of them.

Lucifer: Don’t fret, you’ll always be safe with me.

MC: demons’ll be demons i suppose

MC: as long as i’m not the one dying 🤞

Lucifer: 🤨

First it was Mammon, then it was Belphie, then Asmo; Satan, Beelzebub, and Leviathan. He didn’t need you to take care of him, of course not. Lucifer aches for his touch, a traitor to his pride, he wants you to pepper him with kisses and your cute band aids.

It’s rare Lucifer actually makes a kill, mostly because no one dares cross him or speak ill of his family while his ears may hear. A foolish middle class demon let slip a confession of his attraction to you while Lucifer passed.

Logically he knows that is an unreasonable reason to murder, but the part of his mind and soul filled with love infatuation desire wont listen to reason. Ice spikes his heart. No demon, angel, nor human should harbor such feelings for you. They will never live up to what he holds for you, what he could give to you.

And so, venom in his body, Lucifer strikes from shadow, a clean kill, not much to it. Then the memories of you patching his brothers flashes through his mind, and ugh, he knows he could get your undivided attention if he messes himself up just a little.

When you find him, bloodied, uniform absolutely darkened with drying blood, at your bedroom door, your jaw drops.

Finally, he gets the pleasure, the reward of your hands cleaning his face, his uniform, tending to him. It was worth the wait, the effort, the time. Perhaps he should find himself bloodied more often if it means having you like this.

While your soft human hands clean his face and freshly unbuttoned shirt he decides to tell you what he’s done. You deserve to know, and a part of him hopes you’ll be thankful. Although there is always the chance reality will sink into your mortal mind and you’ll realize what a monster the Morningstar truly is.

He hopes the latter doesn’t happen, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

As you place the final tiny kitten bandage on his face, and before you think fully about it, you press a gentle peck against his lips.

“Hm? Do you like seeing me kill for you?” He smiles against your lips and his hot breath leaks into your own. “You like having the Avatar of Pride avenge you?”

An embarrassing noise escapes you as Lucifer pulls away from your lips to kiss your hairline.

“There isn’t a thing in all the realms I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

You exhale against his chest, before breathing him in.

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

A low purring, perhaps growling, revs itself in his throat. Lucifer loves his little human, but he doesn’t like sharing them. If he proves himself better than his brothers, they’ll be all his. But their heart is so big, perhaps he’ll have to settle for being the favorite. The best.

He noses along the hollow of your neck, breathing you in, “I love you.” Lucifer feels the way your heart flutters beneath your skin and he’s near delirious with the scent of you filling his lungs.

You, you, you; your hands on his chest, his face, so gentle with him as if he is the fragile one. He’s possessed with the desire to claim you, to bite and mark you for his brothers to see that he is the right one for you, he is your favorite, your proper suitor.

Teeth strong enough to snap steel, ghost around your jugular and draw in a sharp gasp from you. But he refrains from blemishing your precious human skin. When his head is clearer (if it ever will be clearer around you), he’ll mark you so, so carefully.

Your hands tangling into the roots of his hair brings him back into the moment, and he reaches his head back to capture your lips. Yes, he’ll just have to do this again.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #rahh

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padawansuggest · 1 year

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Rex: *after showing up to Tatooine and listening to Din and Boba’s exploits to clean up the planet again* Wow. A… kryat…

Boba: *suddenly on edge, putting a protective hand on Din’s thigh where Din was taking up Fennec’s usual spot on the arm of the throne* What’s wrong with taking down a kryat? Thing of legends, really.

Rex: *sadly shaking his head* Sorry, that wasn’t anything against it itself. They go wild and eat whole towns when left alone, it’s just pest control.

Boba: But it upsets you?

Rex: …I think I know the Krayt you’re talking about. It was necessary, it just explains why Cody was pissed about Kenobi crying around the same time that happened.

Din: Kenobi and Cody… are some of the ghosts that come to meditate with Grogu a couple times a week?

Rex: Yeah. Kenobi wasn’t really so upset, but I think he still had a lingering bond with the beast. They’d worked together for the rebellion for years.

Boba: …excuse you, did you just imply the rebellion had a kryat dragon working for them?

Rex: No no, Obi-Wan worked for the rebellion. He was asked to kill the dragon a bit after he settled on the planet, ended up making a force bond with her. She let him harvest the pearls in her nest and he kept her well fed without needing to hunt. I guess he didn’t realize after he died she’d have to hunt on her own.

Din: …why did the rebellion need kryat pearls? I know they had enough money for the most part.

Rex: …they weren’t to sell. Obi-Wan used a seer’s chamber to figure out where Jedi in need of a pearl were in the galaxy, sent them on with the materials to build their own saber.

Boba: You can use a dragon Pearl in a saber?!?

Rex: Yeah. With the Death Star in construction it was almost impossible to get kyber. Kryat pearls made a good replacement, and Obi-Wan had a tamed dragon. I know he sent one to the princess, and it’s in her saber now, Vos was his usual contact because he worked with the underground that connected children to capable fighters that could train them. They’d get their saber materials and train with their new master.

Din: Are you. Fucking. Telling me. I didn’t have to look for a Jedi. I just needed to find the underground so I could give Grogu a master there?

Rex: Absolutely not! That little boy loves you more than anything, Djarin! The underground is for training those who have no other choice than to run from the empire to survive it. Your child chose you over training.

Din: Fuck this, I’m getting Kenobi to tell me where to find another pearl, I’m getting my kid a shiny hittin stick. *stomps off to the nursery to try and contact the dead*

Rex: …hmm… he’s fun. Careful, Kenobi will try to adopt him.

Boba: *grumbling about a man with a Mandalorian fetish never leaving them be*

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #incorrect star wars quotes #din djarin #captain rex #boba fett #Grogu #the mandalorian #incorrect mandalorian quotes #in all honesty I’m making a fic where it’s less evil and most of the Jedi survive where Obi does this #but this isn’t that one lol I just think he should harvest kryat pearls #dinbo a #bobadin #codywan

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pestservices-1 · 10 months

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Small, parasitic pests known as bed bugs feed only on human blood. As they are nocturnal, they spend most of the day sleeping. Bed bug infestations may be discovered in any house, but they are more prevalent in public spaces like hotels, hostels, and flats that travellers regularly visit.

If you think you have bed bugs, there are a few things you can do to confirm the infestation. Look for the following signs:

-Bed bug bites are often tiny, irritable, and red. They frequently gather in bunches with the arms, legs, and torso.

-Bed bug excrement: Bed bug excrement is black or brown and looks like small coffee grounds. It can be found on mattresses, bed frames, and other furniture.

-Bed bug shells: Bed bug shells are the empty exoskeletons of bed bugs. They are usually found in cracks and crevices around the bed.

If you have confirmed that you have bed bugs, the next step is pest control for bed bugs. There are a few different ways to treat bed bugs, including:

-Heat therapy is one of the most useful ways to eradicate bed bugs. A professional pest control service like Star One Pest Control will destroy the bed bugs and their eggs, heating your home to a high temperature using specific equipment.

-Chemical treatment: Chemical treatment is another effective way to kill bed bugs. A Star One pest control service will apply a pesticide to your home that will kill the bed bugs.

-Bed bug treatment for home: There are a few homemade treatments that you can try to kill bed bugs. However, these Bed Bug Herbal Pest Control treatments are less effective than heat or chemical treatments.

Once you have treated the infestation, preventing bed bugs from returning is important. These steps include:

-Regularly vacuuming your home, focusing on mattresses, bed frames, and other furniture.

-washing and drying your bedding with hot water and heat.

-fixing any gaps or cracks around your bed.

-Keeping your house tidy and uncluttered.

If you have bed bugs, seeking professional help as soon as possible is essential. The problem of Bed bugs can be challenging to eradicate; moreover, they spread swiftly. A bed bugs control service in Mumbai, like Star One Pest Control, will be able to assess the infestation and recommend the best treatment option for your home.

Here are some additional tips for bed bugs treatment in Mumbai:

Choose the best pest control company like Star One Pest Control. With proper treatment, bed bugs can be eliminated from your home. However, it is important to be vigilant and take steps to prevent them from coming back.

Star One Pest Control

You need a professional to help you if you want to eliminate the bed bug infestation in your home. STAR ONE bed bug pest control offers Mumbai's best bed bug treatment.

Our highly skilled specialists are equipped to spot the telltale indicators of a bed bug infestation. They can help identify the infestation early and stop it from spreading quickly.

#bed bugs treatment in mumbai #bed bugs treatment #bed bug treatment for home #pest control for bed bugs #bed bugs control services in Mumbai #Bed Bug Herbal Pest Control #Star One Pest Control

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cherryxblossxms · 1 year

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Masturbation May - Day 5a: Edging (Barbatos)

A/N: Barbatos was suggested for day 5, edging, by the lovely @yarnnerdally! Barbatos definitely seems like the master of controlling orgasms, either his own or his lover's. But once he's past the point of no return, that control is just gone. I love me some needy demon butler~ Had a small mental block so this is late whoops

Featuring: GN reader || Barbatos x reader

Warnings: masturbation, edging; use of his gloves and his tail; cumshot; just some stress relief for a hard-working butler; mentions of oral (Barbatos receiving) and bondage with reader

Word count: 1988

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The stress had been building up all week. Barbatos was used to a heavy schedule; he attended to the Crown Prince of the Devildom, after all, arranging and attending all sorts of meetings, handling paperwork, cleaning up the palace, and doing pest control of creatures both big and small. He was no stranger to a heavy workload, so it was rarely an issue. But for some reason, this week had been particularly grueling, barely giving him a chance to recuperate.

It also didn't help that during this week, you'd been busy with your own things, studying for an upcoming exam and thus unable to visit the castle like you usually did. Your presence was always a source of stress relief for Barbatos, a comforting and anchoring presence that helped him stay grounded through all sorts of trials and tribulations. But any time you found an opening in your schedule, he was already , and vice versa. It just wasn't in the stars for him to see his beloved's face, it seemed, and it left him feeling restless and unfulfilled.

One of his favorite forms of stress relief was acts of service with you, baking you new sweets and making you delicious tea, just getting the time to sit down with you and indulge in your aura. Sometimes, he simply needed your kisses and cuddles, sharing a soft moment in private to simply hold each other close.

However, when the tension levels were overwhelming, his methods of stress relief could be on the... rougher side. You'd been a little shocked, to say the least, to discover Barbatos' love of ropework. He enjoyed tying up a willing victim every now and then, not always for sexual reasons, and he was both glad and relieved when you seemed to take a liking to it. Something about seeing you wrapped up in pretty patterns of rope or ribbon satisfied him immensely, and you two had taken to doing a lengthy session every so often to blow off steam.

And when just the ropework wasn't enough, Barbatos liked to use your body for stress relief, too. He preferred taking his time in bed with you, working you up slowly, deeply, building up a massive wave of pleasure to crash over you in the most delicious mind-numbing, limb-shaking way when you finally peaked. He was a master at orgasm control, and it left your mind reeling after every session. But on occasion, he could play fast and rough, too, pounding you against the wall or over the coffee table if he was too worked up or you'd been riling him up all day. It was times like that that you were reminded he was a demon first, and a butler second. But he knew you enjoyed every second of it.

Today, the tension finally came to a head after dealing with a particularly troublesome noble, spending the better part of an hour arguing over a new policy during an important meeting. Although Barbatos rarely got angry, the noble had seemed determined to test his patience left and right. Once the meeting had ended, he left the room with a pounding headache and fists tightly clenched, using everything in his will to maintain his composure. Thankfully, Diavolo could tell something was going on and left him alone, going back to his paperwork without any prompting from his faithful butler.

Barbatos made his way to his room quickly, just wanting to be in a quiet safe space to work out his anger. Checking his D.D.D., there were no new messages from you, and he couldn't help but sigh. His usual source of comfort was missing and his body ached to let it all out, relieve all his stress into you in only the way you could handle. Now that his usual option was unavailable, as he'd be remiss to pull you away from your studies just to help his selfish desires, he could only think of one other thing to do.

He willed his mind to focus on more pleasurable memories, trying to replace his negative feelings with something better. If he couldn't have you in person, he could at least enjoy your presence in the form of his thoughts, conjuring memories of your last rope session with him, remembering the way the rope hugged your limbs as you hung suspended, the tie pattern he'd used complementing the shape of your body and keeping you immobilized and vulnerable to his skillful ways. It had been a particularly passionate session, the room air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat from how long you two had been at it.

As he recalled the lusty look in your eyes, he remembered the way your mouth had hung open in a silent scream as he brought you to climax several times, and he could feel himself harden, wanting to see those expressions on you once more. Barbatos let himself relax into his demon form, finally, slipping off his jacket and sitting at the edge of his bed. He knew he didn't have too long to dedicate to this, but it was either he explode in a pleasurable way, or a dangerous way, and figured the former would be best.

He started palming himself over his pants, the pressure providing a small bit of relief, and released himself from his pants before long. He kept his gloves on as he continued stroking himself, enjoying the feel of the fabric against his shaft. That was another thing you seemed to enjoy, when he kept his gloves on during sex, and he could see why you enjoyed it so much. The unfamiliarity of the sensation did bring a new level of pleasure to things, only serving to feed into his growing lust.

Perhaps because he was so pent up, Barbatos could already feel his climax approaching. But he could still feel the tendrils of anger and frustration from earlier, the whole reason he was trying to relieve himself now, and realized cumming now wouldn't be nearly as satisfying as he'd like. He started to stroke a finger beneath the head of his cock where it was most sensitive, shivering and twitching in need, and his climax grew ever closer the faster he stroked. But just as the pleasure began to crest, he pulled his hand off his cock, stopping his orgasm in its tracks.

He could see his shaft throb, signals thrown out of whack at the sudden loss of sensation. He gave himself a moment, waiting for the pleasure to retreat before restarting his ministrations. Now precum was leaking from his tip, a tiny river oozing down his shaft, and he pressed a finger to his head to see the glistening strand it made when he pulled away. The urge to taste himself was strong, but he simply continued his movements, now using his pre as lube as he stroked his shaft again.

His body was growing hot, and he could feel the last vestiges of anger leave his system, now able to focus solely on his pleasure. One of his favorite parts of sex with you was utilizing orgasm control in your pleasure, but it was just as effective on himself. He loved the way you grew desperate with him, rocking your hips as he toyed with your arousal until you were begging for relief. And especially when he had you bound, and no amount of wriggling was going to free you or get you any closer to your orgasm, your begging was music to his ears. Your eventual orgasm was made just that much better, and it affected him as well, a bright display of fireworks going off in his mind when he joined you at that pleasurable peak.

Speaking of orgasm, his own climax was quickly approaching once more, all ready to go from the first session. He continued pumping his hand, bringing his fingers over the sensitive head of his cock, chasing after that delicious feeling. But once more, as his pleasure rose up in front of him, he stopped his movements and instead squeezed the base of his cock hard, his orgasm cut off once more.

By now, two denied orgasms left him with a terrible ache in his balls, the head of his cock a deep red from all the blood flow and stimulation. Barbatos' whole body was thrumming, his heart pumping hard from the repeated excitement, and all his mind could think of now was finally cumming. He gave himself a calculated moment to just sit, letting his pleasure die down so he wouldn't ruin himself accidentally.

How he wished you were with him, providing him this relief instead. You always knew just how to touch him, learned how to stroke him just right or use your tongue in wicked ways. He imagined you now, kneeling between his legs and letting him use your mouth as he saw fit. He could envision the way your lips wrapped around his shaft, your hands pumping whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth or stroking his balls, and it made his cock twitch in need to just release down your throat.

Barbatos glanced at the clock and saw he didn't have much time left until he had to prepare dinner for the Young Lord. His tail flicked unconsciously at the edge of his vision, body still itching for relief, and an idea came to mind as to how to end his session.

He leaned over and opened the drawer to his bedside table, finding a small bottle of lube he kept on hand for you, and squirted some onto his cock, shivering at the cold feeling. Leaning back on his hands, he then lifted the end of his tail and let the two tendrils wrap around his shaft. He rarely used his tail to play with himself (on you was a different story), but much like wearing the gloves had done, the difference in sensation really brought new pleasure to the game.

He began moving his tail, stroking leisurely at first before increasing the pace, a wet squelching sound resounding in his room along with his quiet pants. The feeling was addicting, being able to have one end of the tendril wrapped around his base, squeezing and rubbing alternatively, while the other could focus on his head, rubbing up on his frenulum repeatedly. He reached a hand down and tugged on his full balls that were just aching to release already, urging his body on as he squeezed and played with them. The combination of sensations was honestly devastating and his orgasm rose again quickly. This time, Barbatos let the tidal wave of pleasure wash over him, his balls constricting before hot spurts of cum shot out, drawing a low moan from his throat.

His tail kept up its rhythm for a moment, making sure to draw out every drop of cum he could, before releasing and letting his spent shaft rest against his belly. Barbatos took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat throb throughout his body, and was relieved to notice his tension was all gone. Of course, it didn't quite scratch the itch he'd developed to relieve his stress with you, but for now, it did wonders for his mood and would tide him over until you were eventually freed from your obligations.

He collected himself and glanced down, seeing one of his gloves had caught some of his spend, and he worked on redressing with a new set of gloves, slipping on his jacket and adjusting everything into tip-top shape. As he mentally prepped himself for going back to work, he made a note to himself to discuss some time off with Diavolo. This little session had helped him to work off some tension, but he knew the sooner he saw you, the sooner he would feel truly right as rain, and he couldn't wait until you were all his once more.

#barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #barbatos smut #spicy minx 🔥#the minx can write ✍️

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wth-if · 10 months

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Humans have made their peace with the supernatural a long time ago.. all of them, except the demons.

Ten years ago Archangel Michael swooped down from the Heavens to give humans a new salvation, a solution to their pest problem, a little thing they called H.E.L.L. - Heaven's Eradication of Lethal Lowborns.

Ever since then the demons have been under control. Until recently -unexpected, right?- after a series of kidnappings conducted by a cult calling themselves The Morningstar's Children. Ever since, H.E.L.L. has been cracking down hard on the lowborns.

And well, Lucifer Morningstar (The President of Hell Themself and Michael's sibling) is having none of that.

In retaliation, she sends you, a demon, to infiltrate H.E.L.L., and take it down.. from the inside!

OR, a celestial sibling rivalry goes a bit too far.

FEATURES (May Change!):

Play as a lowborn/demon! Male, female or nonbinary (including cis/trans options); gay, straight or aro/ace; be the vessel for Lucifer’s revenge against her sibling by.. hunting your own kind? What?

In-depth character customization! Hair color & style, skin color, body type, markings, piercings, etc!

Choose how you got chosen for the job! Are you a demonic assassin or are you just an average joe who happened to be walking by?

Romance one out of four unique romance options! Your demonic co-worker, a demon hunter and TWO archangels (that’s right!)

Cause chaos and shenanigans! Get Michael’s coffee wrong, mess up an investigation and let demons escape H.E.L.L.’s grasp! It’s what you’re here for!

Discover the mystery behind the disappearances, and who's really behind The Morningstar's Children!

Help Lucifer Morningstar win her election against her son Satan, or sabotage it!

Levithan (He/Him): Demonic Overlord, Son of Lucifer, Sin of Envy. You'd expect a guy with that description to be pretty full of himself, but instead he seems pretty tired and over-worked. He's been tasked by Lucifer to infiltrate H.E.L.L. alongside you- why? It's anyone's guess at this point. (Possible Tropes: bickering couple, tired x energetic, tol x smol)

Yavhi Gupta (They/Them): Stubborn, rude and cold-hearted. They've been working for H.E.L.L. since they were able to join, and they're one of the toughest, roughest demon hunters around. They don't joke or play around, they go straight for the kill each time. Unlucky for you then, that you've been assigned to train underneath them for the foreseeable future. (Possible Tropes: enemies to lovers, opposites attract, black cat x golden retriever)

Raquel (She/Her): Fierce, witty and loyal to the end. When her best friend left Heaven, she followed right after. Now, she works as a detective alongside him and they've been hired by an outside source to investigate The Morningstar's Children, as H.E.L.L. can't seem to do anything right, and she'll do anything to find out the truth; even if it means teaming up with a lowborn like you. (Possible Tropes: fwbs to lovers, smart x dumbass)

Gabriel (He/Him): Quiet, yet lethal and dangerous. He left Heaven for a reason, but now works alongside his friend as a detective. He's the brawn of the operation, but just as willing to do anything to get the truth... even if you get the feeling he knows more than it seems. (Male MCs only. Possible Tropes: Mutual pining, star-crossed lovers, quiet x loud)

Lucifer Morningstar (She/They): As the Sin of Greed, she's the father (mother?) of all the other deadly sins, and the current President of Hell- though with reelections soon, and her subjects looking in their son's, Satan's, favor, that might change soon. Which is why they sent you on the quest to take down H.E.L.L., so her rep would get a serious boost. She's conniving, scheming and pantsuit wearing, and will stop at nothing to keep her spot on top. (And I love her.)

Michael (They/Them): The most powerful Archangel of them all, it was obvious that one day, they'd become the humans savior, their saving grace.. uh, not really, but they love the praise. Recently however they've been under fire from the human media after a slip-up resulted in the deaths of six people, but they managed to save grace by capturing and promptly executing a few lowborns connected to The Morningstar's Children. (Which, In Raquel's professional opinion, puts them right at the top of her list of suspects.)

Shae (She/Her): A vampire and the one who hired Raquel and Gabriel after the kidnapping of her son Damien at the hands of The Morningstar's Children.

LINKS :

DEMO POST (TBA) R/O INTROS (TBA)

Asks about the R/Os, the characters or the story in general are always welcomed!

#intro post #hosted games #choice of games #if wip #cog wip #twine wip #welcome to hell #welcome to hell if #wth if #wth #interactive fiction #interactive novel #cyoa #choose your own adventure #wip

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rosesfox · 7 months

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✿ acftl review! ✿ (spoilers!)

🚨 i'm seriously warning you, it's a review and therefore there will be spoilers. read at your own risk! 🚨

✿

things i really liked:

❥ the rhythm of the book was perfect for me. i was able to dive into the story very easily and it's something constant for me in sg's books. the way she develops the plot is perfect. i thought everything was well placed and the pages were used wisely.

❥ the evolution of jacks and evangeline for me is something totally palpable; evangeline continues to have the same essence as always and i love that about her. she is a romantic girl, she is a soft girl and she is sweet. but she is also intelligent, she is strong and she doesn't let herself get carried away by situations. she makes her decisions and she is in control of her life. most of all, i loved that evangeline loves jacks and believes in her love more than anything. all she wanted was him and after three books, seeing them both embrace their desires so openly was extremely satisfying.

the same goes for jacks, who also had two other books to develop as a character. his essence is the same, he remains the sociopath we all love. but he is in love. he is desperately in love. and in this book there was no room for anything other than the two of them fighting for each other. it was everything evajacks needed, and sg delivered it to us perfectly.

i would like to add that i found jacks' povs completely necessary. i saw someone saying they weren't, while i thought they helped us understand his evolution, more of his character and the way he feels about evangeline. i particularly loved it and i don't know how Stephanie thought about not including it!

btw i think it's very important to read this book remembering that it's the third in a trilogy and stephanie is not underestimating our intelligence. she will act as if this is the third book and waste no time drawing so that we understand. she has already established that evangeline and jacks love each other, here they are just on the journey to actually be together.

❥ i loved the way jacks' curse unfolded. it was better than i could have expected and i also love the way eva managed to kiss him. there is no doubt that evangeline, throughout this time, was the only girl on jacks' mind. and she is literally the only one he has ever truly loved.

❥ apollo was disgusting from the beginning to the end. i think that, for what the character proposes, he was developed very well and to some degree i think his participation was quite interesting. aurora is a pest, but i like how stephanie decided to build her.

❥ chaos and lala! i really want the two of them to have a solo book (mainly to read more about evajacks), and i really liked their occasional appearances.

❥ i honestly thought it was an amazing closing for evajacks. there was absolutely nothing missing for me (mainly because of one of the epilogues), and i'm very grateful to stephanie!

some of my analyzes that were accurate: (im so happy about it)

❥ jacks says that since the day at his church he couldn't take his eyes off her. since that day he had to convince himself that she was just a tool. since that day, he started to care. i always said that since ouabh he cared, but i didn't even imagine that it would be from the literal beginning and i loved that.

❥ eva says that the first time jacks betrayed her trust, she felt her heart break. she says that she had been in love with him ever since, so, again, i was right when i said that the two of them fell in love right from the start.

points that I found strange:

❥ where is luc? didn't he even think about visiting eva? i understand that there wasn't time for him in the book, but i would have liked to have seen him.

❥ where is marisol? (do i really care? no)

❥ kisses! i would have liked a more descriptive kiss, but what we had was incredible and cute and really suited the context and i wouldn't trade it for anything. i just wanted others.

i give the book 5 stars and i'm very happy because my favorite couple had a worthy, brilliant and wonderful closure! i don't know what i'm going to do with my life now and what i'm going to think about.

#acftl spoilers #acftl #evajacks #tbona #ouabh #evangeline fox #jacks prince of hearts

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nat-20s · 4 months

Note

Hi! I'm newly obsessed into Doctor and Donna, would you happen to have a list of her appearances outside the TV eps? I found a list on the Fandom wiki page and was surprised to read your post about the Camelot book because it wasn't on the list! So I don't trust it anymore now lol and turning to you. Thank you ❤️

*cracks knuckles* OKAY SO i can't claim to be an expert so I'm just listing everything i can think of but im sure there's the obscure extended universe thing here or there but here's as comprehensive of a list I can provide!

Big Finish Audio Dramas

Tenth Doctor Adventures Vol 1

Tenth Doctor Adventures Vol 3

Donna Noble Kidnapped!

Specifically Audio Books (narrated rather than full cast performance)

Death's Deal (which I didn't even know about until i scanned through big finish!)

The Nemonite Invasion

The Forever Trap

Pest Control

Novelizations of specific Donna episodes

Planet of the Ood

Fires of Pompeii

The Star Beast

Wild Blue Yonder

The Giggle

Novels that are independent adventures

Ghosts of India

Beautiful Chaos (an absolute must read imo!!!)

Legends of Camelot

The Doctor Trap

Shining Darkness

In The Blood

Comics

Idk about the comics for the most part but there is this one shot that makes me feel So Many Things

That's all I got! If anybody knows of any more Donna Noble content please add on to this!!

#doctor who #donna noble #love the dneu (donna noble extended universe)#replies #anon #also many of the novels are also in audiobook format!#i just downloaded (on spotify so alas not in a piracy way :/)#the wild blue yonder audio book- READ BY BONNIE LANGFORD!!!

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zenscrypt · 3 months

Text

"on feathers and dreams"

read it on ao3!

Rated: T (Teen and Up Audiences)

Content Warnings: possession, brief self-harm (ender king hurts purposefully hurts phil's body), drowning, brief vomiting

Summary:

“This is what happens when mortals steal from gods, crow,” the King snides, narrowing his eyes as he clenches the fist tight. “Now, quiet down. I think it’s about time I’ve rested, now that you’re out of the picture.”

Somewhere in his monologue, the King doesn’t pick up footsteps somewhere behind them -- but Phil does. His ear feathers twitch.

A soft voice calls out, “Phil?”

-- A self-imposed exile leads to a reunion.

You.

His skin writhes with an intruder's presence.

“What about me?” he rasps, aching eyes watching the ocean underneath him. The sun had set moments ago -- maybe hours, but he’s stopped counting -- and now, the waves lap at the cliff walls with a hypnotic motion. How long has it been now? Weeks? When was the last time he slept? Ate? Did anything besides stare vacantly at the endless horizon and entertain that nagging voice in his head.

Every part of his body aches since that moment in the forest -- he had to wrench the control away at each second, demanding the movement of his own body. His eggs had run from it. His body remained frozen so he wouldn’t chase after them with the dagger in his hand. The backpack is gone. He’s powerless.

Even his voice comes out wrong. His vocal chords are wrung from two warring voices fighting over them, a deep snarl so unlike what his body is used to, and his normal voice. It’s all… wrong.

Let me out.

The voice hisses, sharp and ringing in his head. It has no face, but he still raises an incredulous eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do?” he scoffs. “No. You’ll have to beg harder than that if you want to escape so badly.”

A quiet sea breeze rustles through his feathers. It all feels still, peaceful, static. Normally, he would be lulled to sleep by this, but something in his body refuses to let him sleep.

When he looks up, the void stares back at him.

What a familiar face. Distantly, he thinks of it as home. The night sky, free of twinkling stars and suffocating clouds, just a vast emptiness for him to soar through. This island was nice, but it was only a vacation.

The End was where he belonged.

Let me out.

“You can keep demanding that,” he sighs, disappointed. It’s like he isn’t even trying. He’s bored by each attempt because it hasn’t changed. Has it been days? “I won’t give it back so easily at your request.”

You will pay for this.

“Will I, now?”

Give me back my body.

The voice rumbles now, deep in the back of his head -- and his wings flare. “Your body?” he hisses sharply. Indignation rushes through him. His body? Does he even hear what he’s saying? “What makes you think this body is yours? It’s always belonged to me. Has your greed gotten to your head?”

You are so full of shit.

There it is.

His lips twist into a grin that stretches too thin on his cheeks. “Oh, crow,” he croons, “do you really think your insults will do anything to you like this?”

Fuck. You. Ender.

He laughs, louder, booming off the cliff face. “Face it, Philza. You’re useless like this.” The King taps his claws — his claws, not flimsy talons, dripping with the tears of the void — against stone and rolls his neck back, spreading out his wings. His wings. “Be patient. I haven’t had my fun with you yet.”

Do not hurt my kids.

“And what will you do about it?”

The King’s mind falls silent.

He hums. Typical. All bark and no bite from this little pest. “Try to take your body back. Speak for yourself if you think you’re strong enough,” he goads, returning his gaze to the void.

Die.

A laugh erupts from The King’s chest again. That really is the furthest he could do, isn’t it? How pathetic. “I will repeat this until it finally sticks to your feeble little brain, Philza: we are one and the same. You conquer every new land you’ve traveled across and steal every last piece of valuable treasure from its habitat -- and you say it’s for protection. For your safety. For your eggs. Do you really believe that fantasy that you’ve made up? Do you really think I would believe these lies you tell yourself? We both know the real reason you claim all of these things for yourself. Right?”

I didn’t take them.

The audacity. The King’s wings flare out again, feathers standing on end with rage and the pulsing amethyst light branding into his skin. “Do not lie to me, Philza.”

I didn’t take your fucking wings.

“Do not lie to me!” he roars. His fist slams into the ground, knuckles first -- and the King hears bones snap and break with a grotesque pop. This mortal body is just a puppet for the King to control, so Philza is the only one to feel the pain receptors firing. He hears a sharp, pained cry in his head and Philza’s pitiful voice finally quiets. Insolent brat.

The King lifts the damaged appendage with a flat stare. The stone underneath his first had cracked under the force, but Philza had a fast metabolism, so the hand slowly began to repair itself before the King’s eyes. It was hardly fascinating. Dragons could regrow heads.

Once it fixes itself entirely, the King rolls the wrist to test it out. It must still feel tender or sore, because he feels an involuntary flinch in his wings. He has to bite back a snarl. Of course Philza picked his wings for that.

Somewhere in his monologue, the King doesn’t pick up footsteps somewhere behind them -- but Phil does. His ear feathers twitch.

A soft voice calls out, “Phil?”

---

He didn’t hide his location on the map. It had to be a sign.

Missa had to believe that.

He told Phil he would protect him. As best as he can, with all of his willpower. Sure, he isn’t the strongest and he can barely hold his sword right sometimes, but he made that promise to Phil and he intends on keeping it.

“Tallulah… Tallulah told me,” he says to the black wings shadowing Phil’s seated form. The moon sits high in the clouds and against his back as Missa takes a step forward. It’s almost eerie, how still Phil’s body went at the sound of his voice. Just moments before, it was bellowing with a voice so unlike Phil’s, Missa was convinced somebody else -- something else -- was here.

Rose-weaved signs flash in his head. [ he… he hurt me ] [ but papa is still in there ] [ i know he is ] [ i dont know what to do apa ]

Chayanne had disappeared too. Part of Missa hoped he would find his little egg here too, along with Phil, bantering as they farmed in a new location or sparring with Phil’s cawing laughter and Chayanne’s adorable quacks. It was… wishful thinking at best. He couldn’t just ignore Tallulah’s fears.

There’s no response, so he continues cautiously, “You don’t have to say anything. I just… want to know if you’re alright. I don’t think you should be alone.”

Phil’s head lifts. Blond strands roll over his shoulder, but he doesn’t look completely over to meet Missa’s eyes. “How did you find me?”

He… sounds fine. Maybe too fine — it comes out flat, lacking any of his usual inflections, and cold. If Missa hadn’t known any better, he would’ve taken that answer the second he heard it.

But he doesn’t. “I came as soon as I heard,” he murmurs, trying to see past the shadows of Phil’s face. There’s the faintest glow of something violet illuminating his face from a downward angle. Underneath his black feathers, a pattern of light pulses slowly, like a heartbeat. Missa doesn’t tell him -- them? -- how long it took. They don’t need to know that; as long as they-- Phil knows that Missa was looking for him, that’s enough.

“You’re too late.”

“Maybe I am,” Missa says without missing a beat, confident as he takes another step forward. Phil’s wings begin to spread and, despite the warning signs, Missa advances. “I’m always late, aren’t I? Phil-- I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t respect my promise like I told you I would. I woke up for Tallulah, spent as much time with Chayanne as I could, but-- I couldn’t do it for you. I’m sorry.”

The Ender King scoffs. Missa shoves aside the queasiness rising inside his empty ribcage, because they’re using Phil’s voice but it sounds nothing like him. He knows better. “Your apologies mean nothing to me. He’s too far gone to hear this. Leave me, or else.”

Or else. Or else what? Missa’s resolve burns through the dread that tries to freeze him in place. “Tallulah wanted me to tell you, if I found you,” he continues with another step, and another dangerous twitch of those obsidian wings, “that she forgives you for attacking her. You’ve always looked out for her and Chayanne -- that’s why you’re doing this now, right? You just want to protect them. She knows. She forgives you.”

Tallulah doesn’t.

That’s the thing. She was terrified at the thought of following after Chayanne to try and find her papa, conflicted because of the fear this deity instilled into her and her love for her father. She didn’t take to any of Missa’s reassurances -- she was as stubborn as her feathered parent, albeit so much more intune with her emotions.

More importantly though, Tallulah told him that Phil knows she wouldn’t forgive so easily. It takes time for her to recover from her wounds, no matter how fresh they are. Phil would know this.

When Phil’s body finally turns to look at Missa, his eyes are wide. “She does?” he whispers, in utter disbelief.

Missa nods. “I missed you,” he adds quietly.

…There’s truth to that one, unfortunately. It feels too easy, and he hates that it works. Phil’s body sways as they stand up -- and Missa rushes to close the gap between them, reaching for Phil’s hands. They’re almost unrecognizable now, covered with black scales and nails sharpened into something far stronger than this sharper-than-average, black-painted nails.

He’s always loved Phil’s hands. The few nights where they were under the same roof, he asked if he could paint Phil’s nails for him. It was something that brought unnamed nostalgia to Missa, a memory from his past life he couldn’t exactly grasp, and it was a fun night where they learned they could paint Chayanne’s nubby paws as well. Phil’s hands were always nice and well-kept.

Like this, they’re completely gone. Not to mention the black mass pulsating on Phil’s shoulders with that violet glow he spotted earlier. His nonexistent stomach twists into knots. He rubs his thumbs along gnarled knuckles and, holding eye contact, asks Phil, “Are you okay?”

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The wind lets his hair sway, his wings ruffle, and the act is laughable. Missa almost feels insulted. “I’m fine,” they reassure Missa with no reassuring inflection. “Now, what did th-- Tallulah tell you?”

Missa glances away. “She… everything, Phil. It- it freaked me out a little bit, but-- are you sure you’re okay? I just wanted to come here to make sure everything was fine. I’ll leave if you want.”

Phil’s wings twitch again -- Missa’s starting to realize this must be an involuntary twitch, because the sigh they let out sounds… aggravated, and the wings tense against Phil’s back again. Missa tries not to let his surprise show. He’s still in there.

Behind Phil’s body, past his wings, the edge of the ocean meets the starry sky. It’s an impressive sight. They’re fairly high up.

“I told her not to tell any more people,” Phil’s voice says with another displeased sigh. His eyes lift back to Missa’s. Gone are the beautiful azure he loved so much, replaced with a cold, amethyst purple. When they look at Missa, it’s like they’re looking through him. “How much do you know? The King won’t be happy when he hears about this.”

You don’t seem like it, Missa thinks, unimpressed. He swallows and glances away from Phil’s changed eyes. “I- I mean, I can pretend I don’t know anything? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snoop.”

He’s still in there somewhere. Missa needs to get him back.

He… isn’t a fan of the idea he’s come up with though.

Phil’s eyes soften. He reaches up carefully with his unbroken hand, cupping the underside of Missa’s cheek in his black, clawed hand delicately, as if he were a flower. His touch is ice-cold against Missa’s wispy skin. “I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers, violet eyes searching his. “This is all my fault.”

Alright. That’s enough.

Missa slams his hands into Phil’s chest.

Lo siento, querido.

The cliff’s edge drops off directly into the ocean. Missa saw it as he paddled his boat to the island and worried, for the longest moment, that Phil’s distant figure was going to jump. Would he have flown, if he did? Did the deity Rose heal his wings like Chayanne told him? Would it be Phil that finally gets to spread his wings -- or somebody else?

Phil doesn’t fall. His only tether to stability beside his feet, desperately scrambling against the stony edge, is Missa’s hand, clenched around the collar of his kimono.

“What--” The King snarls -- his voice booms suddenly, unnaturally deep in Phil’s light voice and echoing over the cliffside.

Missa holds firm, staring down violet eyes stretched wide as saucers. He can’t hold this for long, but he keeps his stance balanced. There’s a chance this might not even work. Missa could be wasting his time.

Better him than Chayanne.

Phil’s wings pump through the air for his own balance. The flaps are stilted and uneven, strangely enough -- it’s not instincts trying to keep him upright. Something is holding them back. Is something trying to… keep them closed? Hope wells inside Missa’s chest.

The loud, thunderous voice quiets back to Phil’s as if nothing happened. “What do you think you’re doing?” they say incredulously, feigning innocence.

“Let me talk to him,” Missa says firmly.

They bat his eyes. “Talk to who? I’m right here, love.”

It’s all wrong. How smart does this thing think they are? Missa’s arm starts to shake with the strain of holding Phil’s weight -- so he gives the thief a thin, weak smile. “Philza never calls me love.”

Cloth slips from his hands, and Phil’s body plummets.

Without missing a beat, Missa dives after him.

(He really hopes the Ender King is allergic to water.)

There’s barely enough time for Phil’s body to rotate and catch the airs in his wings for flight. Those huge, black shadows billow in the wind as the thing controlling his body thrashes, suddenly out of his element, eyes stretched wide and fear in their grimace. Those wings have been broken for so long. Maybe, if they had the chance, they could’ve flipped around and taken control of his flailing body as they fall.

Missa can’t let that happen.

It’s a horrible feeling, taking hold of Phil’s wings in the air. Claws flash, but Missa grits his teeth through the pain and the cold drip of his blood down his face to hold Phil’s body as tightly as he can. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento, lo siento.

Faintly, as the ocean below swallows them whole, Missa wonders… if Phil could fly, would he take Missa with him?

The water around them makes everything go blurry, sluggish, heavy. Missa is naturally weightless, but the armor he’s wearing lets him sink further down. More claws swipe at him until their squirming gets to be too much -- they break free with a sharp knock against Missa’s jaw and shove him away.

The Ender King’s eyes are terrified. They’re holding their breath, eyes wide and furious when they glare at Missa, but quickly, they look back up to the surface above them and try to swim for it. They kick Phil’s legs and pump his wings frantically -- Missa panics, thinking they’ll manage to escape the second they break free from the ocean’s grasp -- but then, Phil’s wings stiffen up. Their eyes shrink even further.

“No!” they screech, and all of the air rushes out of them in large, globe-like bubbles. As loud as the voice once was, the water muffles the booming effect, as if trying to silence his cries. “Stop-- give me back my body, you--”

All of Phil’s limbs freeze in their scramble. Missa watches as they try to suck in another breath and only take in the seawater, sputtering and seizing. It’s horrific, trying to watch somebody you love try to fight for control with no room to breathe. What is he supposed to do? What can he do?

The King continues babbling, voice growing shrill without any oxygen in his lungs, “Not again! Not again, I can’t-- No--”

Missa counts the bubbles rushing from his lips until there’s no more. The ocean grows still. Quiet. Phil’s body sinks.

Limp.

He’s going to die.

The realization spurs Missa into action immediately. He went unconscious, but Missa only has a minute until Phil dies and respawns somewhere else.

Hurried, frantic Spanish spills out of him as he takes Phil’s body in his arms and swims up to the surface -- Phil’s head lulls onto his shoulder the second they both break free. Land- land-- where--

There! Where Missa left his boat, a small shore under the cliff roof, but far away. Too far for Missa to reach with Phil’s -- heavy -- body in tow. Hastily, he searches his inventory.

It’s cluttered with random items he picked up along the journey after Phil’s map marker, but a singular enderpearl catches his eye. Thank the gods he decided to take it with him for some reason, as if he could’ve spoken with the Ender King through it or some shit-- it doesn’t matter. Missa grabs it and, without missing a beat, launches it in the direction of the beach.

As it flies, Missa wraps his arms around Phil’s body and squeezes him as tight as possible against his chest. Please teleport with me, please teleport with me, please--

Pop! Missa hits sand with a heavy weight in his arms.

It worked. He has no time to celebrate. Carefully, he adjusts Phil onto his back, taking as much care as possible with his wings, laying them out flat and not kneeling over sodden feathers, and his trembling hands hover over Phil’s body. The death counter ticks in his eyes. Fourty seconds.

And counting down.

Dios mio. What does he do?

Breathing-- is Phil breathing? He peels off his gloves and throws them somewhere in the sand, bones rattling in the dark wisps that make up his skin and making it nearly impossible to stay still to check for air. He hates how pale Phil looks, and the dark circles around his eyes, and the way his face is too slack -- is he breathing? If Missa’s hands would stop shaking--

Twenty-five seconds. Phil still hasn’t moved. Tears well in Missa’s eye sockets. Why hasn’t he moved?

Pulse-- check for a pulse-- please, why isn’t he-- it’s the best thing Missa can do, carefully pressing against Phil’s neck, trying to remember where the pulse point is. Twenty seconds. He bites his tongue to hold back a whimper. Phil, please--

Thmp. He can barely feel it. Thmp… thmp… thmp…

Is that--?

Water gurgles.

Immediately, Phil’s body seizes and water splatters from his open mouth -- Phil’s eyes shoot open as coughs rip from his throat. Missa retracts his hands with a surprised squeak, eyes stretching so wide it hurts but-- Phil?

He rolls to his side to dry heave, a painful, guttural noise that Missa hates, oh, Gods, please let him be fine. His whole body shakes with each retch. Missa, twitchy, anxious -- needing to do something because is it Phil, is he okay, how can he help -- finally gives into his urges and reaches over to brush Phil’s long hair out of the way as he vomits the seawater out.

When he finishes, Phil lets out a shaking breath and slowly, on shaking limbs, pushes himself up into a sitting position. Missa’s hands follow him carefully for support.

As he catches his breath, Missa hovers still. The silence wanes on. He can’t see his face -- his eyes, Missa just wants to check, dreading the sight of that same purple glow that’s still stuck under his feathers.

“Phil?”

His wings shift. Weakly, Phil’s head lifts to meet Missa’s seeking eyes.

Blue.

“Hey, mate,” Phil croaks, looking exhausted.

It’s-- Missa can’t help it -- an overjoyed sob escapes him, tears finally bursting from his eyes. “Philza!”

“Mis-- ouff--”

He doesn’t have time to return Missa’s exclamation the way they normally do before Missa collides into him all at once. A caw startles out of him -- so crowlike Missa is swarmed with adoration and endearment and relief. Phil’s okay, he’s alive, he’s back -- Missa has to bend down and shower his face in loud, blubbering kisses, vocalizing each with an exaggerated, “MWAH!” that makes Phil burst out into breathless laughter. It’s the only distraction Missa can give himself, trying so hard to keep his trembling bottom lip shut.

For Phil. For Phil.

“Okay, okay!” Phil laughs, craning his neck away for space but Missa only takes the opportunity to press his lips underneath his jawline and blow a raspberry against his skin. “What the fuck-- Missa! Chill out!”

His words are meant to be sharp, but he’s giggling like he’s drunk and Missa feels like it. It’s infectious; he feels silly laughing into Phil’s neck, needing to cling onto every inch of Phil’s skin he can reach, relieved and happy and so, so, so-- scared--

A sob tears out of him.

Missa has never been the strong one here.

“Oh, mate,” comes Phil’s achingly sweet murmur into his hair. Missa curls in on himself, into Phil’s embrace, letting the terror finally sweep over him.

Gods above, he almost killed Philza. He knows how painful death is for him, even if they respawn-- but if he respawned, he would be with Chayanne and Tallulah. He would’ve put them directly in harm’s way if he didn’t save Phil in time. They could’ve died because of him.

Missa wants to be strong for his family. He tells them, over and over again, he wants to protect them the way they protect him. He wants to be there for them when they need it. He wants to love them as much as he can.

But he can’t. He’s gone so often, and he can’t help it -- can’t help it when Death calls back to him in his sleep and he loses himself in his past again -- no matter how much he tries. If this plan of his failed, his kids would’ve been through the same thing. Gone, except, unlike him, they won’t be able to escape.

How can a protector do that? How can a father do that to his kids? He doesn’t deserve the title of a husband, much less a parent. All he does is sleep and dream, and-- and--

“I’m sorry.”

Missa hiccups. Phil’s voice vibrates against where he’s buried himself against his throat, his hands loose where they’re wrapped around Missa’s back. He leans just as heavily onto Missa, muttering, “This is all my fault.”

What?

Phil sucks in a breath -- and Missa hates that it sounds shaky like his sobs, which can’t be right. “I should’ve- I should’ve known he was coming after me. All of the warning signs were there. I took that stupid backpack without even thinking about it, and look where that fuckin’ got me. I’m-- god, I’m fucking stupid. The worst fucking dad.”

What? No, no, no-- Missa lifts his head away with his eyebrows knitted together, finding Phil staring resolutely away from him, his teeth gritted and eyes glimmering in the moonlight. That doesn’t make any sense. Why is he blaming himself? What is he blaming himself for? A deity possessing him? Is he being ridiculous?

“Phil, what are you talking about?” he whispers.

He watches Phil grind his teeth and give a very forced, controlled exhale through his nose. His eyes shift down to the sand underneath him, the space on his opposite side where Missa isn’t is, down into his lap. When he opens his mouth, his jaw trembles as he laughs something harsh and bitter, spitting, “I’m fucking terrified, Missa. I don’t know how to get myself out of this.”

His voice cracks in the middle of his words, and the second he finishes, Phil shatters.

Missa watches his face crumple in dismay. “No, no, no, querido,” he moves quickly and shushes him gently, gathering Phil in his arms. A strangled noise, torn between a sob and wail, gets muffled into Missa’s cloak and Missa cradles Phil’s head closer, pressing his lips to the golden crown of his hair. Skeletal fingers run through his scalp as delicately as he can.

How long has this been going on? How much has Phil been holding this all in?

Has he told anyone this?

Everybody must think of Philza as the most collected person on the island -- even Missa thought that, because who couldn’t? He held himself together well, kept to himself, and offered kindness whenever somebody needed help. He’s always been the one protecting -- because he never let anybody else do it for him.

He grew up so alone. Of course he would expect to manage on his own, but--

Missa screws his eyes shut, feeling more tears drip from his sockets. He can’t handle this problem by himself. And now…

Taking in a shaking breath to calm himself, Missa pulls away from Phil’s embrace. His face is red and splotchy, eyes swollen, and he makes another strangled grunt, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears and mucus. His shoulders still shake with labored breath and the occasional hiccup. He looks miserable.

Distantly, he wonders if he’s the only person that’s seen Phil like this.

Missa’s hands gently sweep away his to cup his jawline, tilting his face up. Tears stain his cheeks -- wet streaks that replace the sticky, dried-out marks from the seawater that was on his skin -- and Phil still can’t look him in the eye. He doesn’t seem like he’s used to this attention. This kind of vulnerability.

That’s fine. Missa brushes away the fresh tears that bead from his long eyelashes. He holds Phil, just like this, taking him in. He doesn’t want Phil to hide this from him, not when he’s here.

When blue irises finally focus on him, it’s shy. Missa’s chest flutters. Even like this, he can’t help but feel enamored by the crow in his arms. He had no idea someone so strong could look so bashful at someone like Missa.

Love is a strange thing, he thinks as he leans down and fits his lips over Phil’s.

It’s a simple message, a reminder. Phil tastes like seawater, but Missa drags him deeper, willing to drown himself in it for him.

Phil pulls away first -- his breathing still isn’t steady, and the kissing probably isn’t helping, but he stretches to meet Missa’s lips again anyway. It feels like a response -- Missa was fine as long as Phil heard, but he wants to return it-- him-- his head spins.

He doesn’t care if his feelings are reciprocated or if Phil even knows how far Missa is willing to go for him, always. Relief pours over him like honey and he sighs into the kiss, letting Phil take the lead.

There’s a bit of a challenge, namely Phil needing to breathe. He parts long enough to take in a breath before diving back in, and it’s-- endearing, tickles Missa in a way that makes him giddy, but he knows he should probably put a stop to this if Phil wasn’t going to, for Phil’s sake. He’s not the one with lungs here after all.

(He also wasn’t the one to almost drown.)

Despite this though, Phil chases after him the second he starts to pull away. His nose knocks into Missa’s skull, the edges of his nasal cavity -- and still, that doesn’t deter him. Missa’s endeared laugh gets muffled by Phil’s smiling lips; he can’t help but give into his fluttering chest and Phil’s touch.

Eventually, they part, just not very far. Missa rests his skull against Phil’s forehead -- at his insistence -- to listen to him steady his breath. Behind them, the waves lap at the sand. They’ve gradually dried over time thanks to the enchanted armor they wear, but Missa feels ready to collapse like he’s weighed down by bricks.

He can’t imagine how Phil must be feeling.

“Missa…?”

He blinks, sitting back on his (hurting) knees (ow, he’s been on them too long), peering at Phil. The crow looks like a mess still, but under the moonlight, Missa doesn’t care. Phil gazes at him, hesitant -- an expression Missa’s never seen on him before.

They… have a lot to talk about, don’t they? If Phil even feels comfortable enough to talk to him about it. Something nags in the back of Missa’s mind -- a horrible voice in his head that usually points out all of his insecurities -- that this feels too perfect. The Ender King disappeared too fast. They’re too happy.

Chayanne is still missing. Tallulah is no doubt worrying about him, and Phil, and now Missa. The sand underneath them is bathed in that eerie purple glow from the mass on Phil’s back -- he said something about a backpack? -- and Missa still feels the edges of his fears still gnawing at his bones. Phil isn’t okay, and there’s no telling the next time Missa may wake up.

Phil’s voice carries in the breeze. “Can… can you stay here tonight? With me?”

Oh.

A warmth, fuzzy and like the sun, coils in his ribcage. Missa nods, maybe a bit too aggressively, with, “Sí, sí, si me quieres aquí. Anything, Philza.”

Phil’s smile crinkles the edges of his eyes, his crow’s feet, in a way Missa thinks only he’s seen before. “Thank you. Th- thank you, Missa.” It sounds as if the world is lifted from his wings. Maybe it has.

It isn’t much, but it’s something. They find a spot underneath a tree, far from the beach or the stony cliff, and Phil lights up the area as much as he can despite his exhaustion. As they work together, they talk. This isn’t the end of it. The water scared Ender off, but it didn’t get rid of the mass on Phil’s back, or the darkened claws that were Phil’s hands.

It was enough for tonight. Phil hadn’t slept as a punishment to himself, afraid Ender would take control in his sleep -- but that ended in his downfall the moment his consciousness lapsed with the sleep deprivation. Ender swooped in, and Phil was too exhausted to try and fight back.

So it comes to no surprise that Phil’s asleep the second his head hits Missa’s lap.

Blond hair weaves through Missa’s skeletal hands as he chuckles quietly. With two fingers, he picks up a lock of his hair and presses his lips to it, murmuring to Phil’s sleeping face, “Buenas noches, querido. Que descanses.”

The moon above them wanes into something full, bright, whole -- a lunar eclipse just ending. It watches Missa slowly drift to sleep as well, hearing Death’s distant call.

For the first time in his existence, Missa fights against the natural calling of his undead body. Maybe it’s a pointless fight. Maybe Death will still claim him in the end. Maybe he’ll give into the urge with his fears too heavy and pressing in his mind and submit himself to the void.

He fights because he wants to wake up next to Phil. He can’t leave him alone after tonight. He wants to help him with this, in any way he can.

Just like he promised.

#my writing #qsmp #philza #qsmp philza #qsmp missa #missasinfonia #qsmp ender king #deathduo #death duo #pissa

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