#are they together in this? are they not? who knows? certainly not me!
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routine | wanda maximoff
synopsis: a routine to follow; to secretly navigate the delicate balance of your double lives, you and wanda risk it all for just a clandestine affair teetering on the edge of discovery.
wanda maximoff x reader
word count: 2.1k words
warnings: infidelity, angst
a/n: it's only time, and fair, to write for wanda too :)
it all falls into routine pretty quickly; the late-night creaks of her front door, your feet tapping against the solid hardwood of her living room, her arms wrapping themselves around your body, lips finding your own.
to build a unique relationship that defied categorisation, and to then allow the relationship to morph until it just about justified itself – you weren’t sure who started it first. perhaps it could have been wanda’s lingering glances, could have been your own sharp tongue. either way, you were seeing a colleague that shouldn’t have been your solace, and she hadn’t stopped it either.
it had been a long day at the office. or two days, you weren’t too sure. with a new product launch in the next week, everyone had been working overtime, you didn’t remember the last time you had seen your own wife, and you certainly didn’t remember her reminder to pick up the dry cleaning if you were on your way home. maybe she had even said it last week instead of this one.
but you did remember the familiar steps to wanda’s house, the ding of her doorbell, the smell of vanilla and wood behind the door. it was already all beckoning to you, the comfort of a place that wasn’t even your own.
as usual, she opened the door, already dressed in her satin nightgown, hair half-dry from her shower. and you collapsed right into her. wanda stumbled holding you up for a moment, but hearing your satisfied sighs and whimpers from her fingers threading themselves into your hair, followed with your arms melding your two bodies together, she too, couldn’t control the relief she exhaled.
“you’re late.”
“i know, tom held me back today.”
wanda clicked her tongue. “i saw you asleep in your office last night. wanted to bring you home, but your assistant was working late too.”
she felt you nuzzle your face into her neck, breathing in the lavender and honey from her bath. “mmh. i did.”
“don’t overwork yourself.” her words, and replies, had always been curt. straight to the point, but never malicious. she cared about you, but she couldn’t show so much that she would give you the wrong idea. she knew what this was, after all. a relationship of convenience; a companionship made from two lonely, desperate people.
she brings you to bed after allowing you to use her shower, your eyes drooping as you lay yourself over her, while she switches on the sitcoms on her television. fingers glide over the splay of your back, absentmindedly tracing the taut muscles there while you relish in her touch. the weight on her own body wasn’t uncomfortable, but more of a reassurance, a reminder, that she was grounded, and so were you, in the present moment. wanda pulls you in even further when the show cuts to a commercial.
there was a notification from your phone, in the bedside table next to wanda. glancing over at it, she feels a certain sting in her chest. she’s not sure why. it wasn’t like it was anything new; she had always known about it, she had full access to your phone anytime she wanted to check on it.
still, the i love you that you had gotten from someone other than her, while not unfamiliar, irked her. she didn’t know what was up with herself, to only be irritated by something she knew from the start was her reality only now. must be the hormones, it was that time of the month after all. she had already rejected your advances to join you in her shower, and you understood. thankfully.
you missed the quick swipe of her fingers across your phone, clicking on the message and deleting it. it wasn’t something she wanted you to see tonight. she inspected a few earlier messages, saw that they were causing even more pain to simmer in her chest, and hurriedly shoves it back to where it came from.
you whined for her fingers to return to where they were, and thankfully, she came back. you mumbled sleepily, “how was your day?”
“we work in the same office, don’t we?” wanda replied, amused.
“well, different departments.”
“fine,” she quickly said, but at your woeful gaze, she softened, “it was fine. kate invited me for yoga after work. then i got home, tried out a new recipe from the cookbook he got me, and waited for you.”
your fingers interlaced with hers, looking up at her like she put the stars in the sky. wanda found it difficult to swallow the lump in her throat. “you made dinner?”
she nodded. “it’s in the microwave, i can heat it up for you if you want.”
“no, no, it’s okay,” you reassured her, pushing her back down when she tried getting up, “i’m too tired to eat it now. and besides, it’s for him. i shouldn’t…be eating his food.”
“you know–”
“–i know. but i have my boundaries.”
wanda pinches the skin at the nape of your neck for cutting her off. you wince, and she leans down to kiss it, tongue lapping at it quickly after as a way of saying sorry. “it’s that paprikash you like. the one you keep going on and on about. i made it for you.”
a smile crept to your cheeks. “the one jane from legal made for me once.”
the pinch came again, and wanda felt almost guilty at the angry red welt it formed in the wake of her anger. “right. you still fucking her, or…?”
wanda didn’t find the chuckle from your lips even the slightest bit funny. you propped yourself on your elbows, kissing wanda’s neck slowly. “wands…it’s not like that. come on.”
“she wants you. i just know it. everybody knows it.”
“she did invite me out for drinks today,” you quipped, to which wanda sighed irritatedly, but you were quick to recover with, “but i said no. was too tired.”
“because you’re coming home to me.”
“because i’m coming home to you,” you affirmed. it was only then that wanda let go of the frown on her face, allowing you to come close enough to kiss her, chest rising and falling beneath yours. you held her face as you let her take control, and she brought you down even further to her, as if never letting you go. it was comfortable, and safe, and leaving you lightheaded and giddy, when it really shouldn’t be.
you really shouldn’t be doing this. but wanda was enjoying this so much, and it would be futile to deny that you weren’t. her skin so soft, her hair silky smooth, there was something just so irresistible about the woman underneath you. she’s got you right in the palm of her hand.
your phone rang this time, and while wanda instinctively shot out her hand to silence it, you were quicker, and took it from her right as her fingers clasped around the device. she groaned in annoyance when you sat up and checked who had been calling you.
“it’s my sister,” you announced, to alleviate some of the jealousy and tension evident in her face.
wanda listened as you spoke, forcing you to put her on loudspeaker, while her hands ran up and down your thighs, impatient for you to end the call and carry on with what you had been doing to her. she sighed irritatedly each time her name was said, each time your lips even formed the shape of pronouncing it.
“yeah, of course, i know,” you assured your nagging sister, “flight’s at six-thirty. we can’t be late. you’ve booked us business class seats. i got it. natasha and i will be there, sis. we wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”
you felt wanda’s hands lift up your t-shirt, to which you tried pulling her away, but she swatted your hands off first. you reluctantly obliged, as she found your breasts, and began her ministrations on them as you stayed on the phone. she heard her name again, and sat up, lips latching on to your skin, and biting hard. you sucked in a harsh breath, feeling the skin tear before wanda was licking it up again, marking you and then apologising for it.
“i know,” you continued, wanda kissing up your neck now, purposely as loud as she could. she wanted you to get caught, “look, it’s supposed to be nerve-wrecking. it’s your wedding, for heaven’s sake. i remember when i was getting married to natasha, i couldn’t sleep for weeks! i was just so excited, and–fuck!”
“what was that?” came the voice from the other end. wanda smiled. success.
“n-nothing,” you regained your composure, glaring daggers at her this time, “look, i have to go, but we’ll be there. first thing tomorrow. no, natasha’s not with me right now, i’m sleeping in my office because i have to tie up the loose ends at work before we spend the next two weeks with you for your wedding. i’ll see you soon, alright?’
two weeks. two weeks is far too long. wanda doesn’t want to wait two weeks to see you again. it was her turn to have her glare turn murderous when you ended the call, snatching your phone away from you and shoving it under the drawer. you sighed, indulging her. “six-thirty?”
“i have to go by four, alright? i have to pick up natasha,” a bite to your shoulder, “and get a ride to the airport,” another angry teeth mark.
it was nearly midnight already. wanda couldn’t believe you failed to tell her you barely had four hours together. “fuck you.”
“wands…”
“seriously, fuck you,” she emphasised, tears already beginning to form at the ends of her eyes. the bitter, choking feeling in her throat too raw to voice out her anger and jealousy.
“come on, don’t be like this,” you begged, holding her thrashing hands as she tried to buck you off the bed. she refused to let you see her cry angry tears, but you had done so anyway. you held her hands against your chest, kissing them all over until she gave up fighting altogether, until she could only shut her eyes, and face away from you in shame. “you’re always like this.”
“is–it–so–wrong–” she was hiccuping, voice broken, “–to want you around? to have you with me?”
she knows it is. you know it is as well. but neither of you tell the truth around it. you both were too attached to each other to face the reality. “i’ll be back soon, alright? just two weeks. then you’ll have me, for as long as you want. as long as he’s not around.”
wanda let out a cry, heartbreaking and raw; and you bite your own lip in guilt. you hated to see her like this. she never had a problem letting her guard down with you, and you didn’t want her to think it would be a mistake doing so. she cried then, frustrated and angry, “i want to break up! i hate you, i never want to see you again!”
“come on wands…”
“i hate y–” your lips were on hers then, soothing her, placating her, like one would an insolent child. you had released her hands, and they had clawed at your arms, scratching down red, angry lines down your skin. she was doing to you what she couldn’t say out loud. how betrayed she felt, how wrong it was that you were taking her to your sister’s wedding, and not wanda. never wanda.
“just two weeks. i promise. i’ll text you everyday.”
“i want to break up.”
sighing, you challenged her. “...do you really?”
but then wanda’s lips trembled, her eyes fully glossy now. there were tears streaming down her face, and her nose was turning red. her nails dug into your skin, feeling almost like claws. and after a minute, she shook her head, slowly, sadly.
you knew it. she could never end it; and neither could you. you always come back. or she does. neither of you want to acknowledge the dirty situation you were in, the games you were playing with each other, and your spouses. how attached wanda was to you, how soft you were for her. it had gained traction, spiralled, and crashed and burned long ago. there was no going back now.
she would threaten ending things with you, you asking her if she really would, and her pulling back just seconds later. the two of you would make up after, never acknowledging how much you actually meant to each other, never saying a word about the other’s feelings. then you would go back home to your wife, and she would wait for her husband to return, and pretend like you were never anything more than colleagues. not even friends, barely acquaintances.
“she’s just someone from work,” you both would say to your spouses, a lie cooked up and chewed and spat out like a routine. and it works, everytime.
#wanda maximoff x reader#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff#scarlet witch#marvel cinematic universe#elizabeth olsen#specifically in this scene!
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🧸 - i hope this piques your interest LOL but i'm deep in a benedict bridgerton mood waiting for s3 to air
could you do a fluffy slow burn blurb for him where reader completely takes him by surprise? up to your interpretation men are just always sexier when caught off guard and proven wrong 😁☝🏼
happy 3k again my love!!
twin flames
pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader
summary: you and benedict bond at an art exhibition. he only seems to be oblivious when it can embarrass him most.
a/n: thank you so much for the request!! it was literally the first one and it's taken me almost a month. lol. im so sorry. but i hope you enjoy!!!
wc: 1.1k
warning(s): all fluff
“This is beautiful,” Benedict murmured, and he glanced at the man beside him. “Is this not one of the best pieces you’ve seen?”
“I suppose it’s alright,” the man shrugged.
“Just alright?” He frowned. “Are you feeling well, sir?”
The man frowned as well as he moved onto the next painting, fully ignoring Benedict. He just shook his head and focused back on the painting, thinking aloud.
“The use of color is just—” he shook his head again. “It’s incredible. The way the brushstrokes are used for depth and the unique way of shading… It all melds together so well, and yet I never would have thought to use any of it in that way.”
“Is that true?”
Benedict’s eyes flickered down to see you by his side, a pretty woman in a rather unassuming dress. He’d never seen you before at one of these exhibits, so you must have been new. He would have remembered a face such as yours.
“Certainly,” he said, nodding with exuberance. “Art is meant to make you imagine, feel— when I look at this piece, I feel some sort of amazement. It captures the beauty of a starry night impeccably, but the technique gives it a completely fresh feel. It is as if I am looking up at the horizon on my own for the very first time again, amazed by the vastness of the world.”
You smiled. “That is very kind of you to say, sir. You’ve quite an eye, sir—and certainly a way with words.”
Benedict shrugged. “It is very simple with a piece such as this. I could wax poetic all day, Miss…” He trailed off, and his gaze fell back to you. “I apologize, my lady. You have me at a disadvantage.”
That coy smile remained on your lips. “Miss Tilbury. And you are Benedict Bridgerton, yes?”
He nodded, and he couldn’t help the slightly nervous laugh that came along with being in your presence. “I am embarrassed. You knew my name, but I didn’t know yours. You must forgive me.”
“Oh, it is of no matter,” you said, brushing your hand through the air. “You already know more about me than most.”
His eyebrows rose, and when his mouth opened, he found himself at a loss for words. It took a moment to compose himself—it was awfully difficult to think with those pretty eyes focusing so intently on him.
“Pardon me for asking, but are you new to these exhibits?”
Your eyebrows rose. “What makes you think that?”
“I’ve not yet seen you around here,” he said. “And I am sure I would remember a face such as yours.”
“No,” you said, and your smile widened. “No, I frequent these sorts of exhibits. I’ve seen you before—I just must not have caught your eye.”
“Oh, I think that impossible,” Benedict insisted. “Not only are you quite beautiful, my lady, you’ve also a sharp mind and a quick wit. Those are three things I can never ignore.”
At that, you fully grinned, and he felt a smile of his own form. He’d only just met you and yet he felt this innate need to bring you joy. Perhaps it was a good thing you’d only just now met, for he could easily imagine thoughts of you consuming his every waking hour.
“And you are quite the charmer, Mister Bridgerton,” you said. “Are you always this forward with women you just met?”
“Only ones such as yourself,” he assured. “It is a delight to be able to discuss art with a twin flame.”
“A twin flame?”
“Someone who sees things the way I do,” Benedict said. “I tried to have a conversation about this piece with a man just before you, but he did not seem to understand it the way I did. You are refreshing, Miss Tilbury.”
“Ah,” you said, and you nodded sagely. “Well, I may have just a bit more insight into this piece than that man did. I am the one who painted it, after all.”
Benedict blinked. The words didn’t fully register in his mind. “What?”
“I am the artist of this piece,” you said, gesturing at the painting they stood in front of. “I’m certainly flattered to know you enjoy it.”
Benedict blinked again, and he felt heat spread across his whole face. He could not find any words in him for a strikingly long moment.
“You can see my signature in the bottom right corner,” you continued. “My initials, of course. I paint under a pseudonym, for though those who run these exhibitions are more progressive than most, it can still be difficult as a woman to get our art displayed.”
“I— I apologize, my lady,” Benedict finally managed to stammer.
You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him. “For what?”
“For not knowing your name,” he rushed, “and insinuating that you were a newcomer, and acting as if I know more about your own art than you do.”
You laughed, and Benedict once again found himself smiling at it. It felt like fresh snowfall—you were indeed refreshing.
“You need not apologize, Mister Bridgerton,” you assured. “I do not lie—it is indeed flattering to know you see my art in such a light. I have seen some of your own pieces, and you are talented.”
“I do not always feel it,” he mumbled. “More often than not, I can only see the flaws in my work. You have a rare quality indeed, my lady—you are able to compliment yourself.”
“I do not believe in the need for self-deprecation in the artistic world,” you mused. “I am proud of this piece, so why would I not compliment it? I already have enough men trying to scorn me each day—I see no reason to contribute to the fire with my own words.”
“And there is no reason for you to!” Benedict exclaimed. “Miss Tilbury, you’ve a way with a brush that very few do—at least with what I’ve seen. I— I consider it an honor to even be standing in your presence, if I am honest. Have you any other works I can see?”
You smiled. “I do, but none of them are available in a manner such as this. I hope to display more soon.”
“As do I,” Benedict said, nodding rapidly. “Mayfair should consider itself lucky to be graced by such fine artistry.”
“And I consider myself lucky to get compliments from a man such as yourself.” Your smile turned slightly coy. “I could offer you some tips, of course. Since you were such a fan of my artwork.”
Benedict could only stare at you for a moment. He did not know whether your words held more or not, but he realized he was alright with either—or both, if he found himself lucky enough.
“I would love to, Miss Tilbury.”
“I see no need for formalities.” You said your first name, your eyes sparkling. “We are twin flames, after all. Yes?”
Benedict’s throat bobbed, but he could not help his grin. “Yes.”
#realized it has been TOO Olong since ive written so i finished this real quick before work lol enjoy#sadie's 3k celebration#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict x reader#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton fic#benedict bridgerton fluff#bridgerton fic#bridgerton fluff#sadie writes
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Giggling, kicking my feet, spinning in circles over Boothill...
Just imagine, S/O in a creative field, and they've been preparing for an event where they get to show off their work..
Except, they've been doing it in secret because they don't feel confident and they're unsure if people would stop by for them..
So cue S/O's surprise when they suddenly bump into Boothill at said event—maybe even burst into (happy) tears if he praises their work.. I just know this man's the sweetest for his S/O ;;;-;;;
YUEESS anyway this got kinda long but take it 🫡
You knew the day was coming - the day so, so important in your career that could possibly shift everyone's opinion about you and your hard work. Day after day, more preparations were made, and people who assisted you kept patting your shoulder as you walked by, already congratulating you.
Yet, amongst all of the joy - your hesitation was certainly present. No one close to you knew about the event - not even the closest people, not even Boothill himself, who was your significant other. Even though so many already praised you - just what meaning does it hold if no one actually shows up to the event itself?
The lack of confidence and worrying were the only ones that bothered you to no end - which, Boothill noticed immediately as it was not your usual behavior. Not only were you constantly busy and away from home when he finally got back, but you were constantly stressed out. He tried not to pressure the matter as you were unwilling to talk, but that's Boothill we're talking about - which means - time for Boothill to snoop around and find out himself.
Today is the day. The day you anticipated so much, but also dreaded to finally have it happen. You hop onto the stage, and gasp at the amount of people below. You can't count the amount of eyes that gaze at you, and people seem to be genuinely impressed at your work - applauding loudly, causing you to tear up on stage.
That's a shame you haven't noticed the familiar cyborg who's been watching you the whole time, smiling widely to himself.
Once the official part is over and the festivities begin, people swarm around you to ask you more about your work or actual interviews, but you gently excuse yourself for now under the excuse of being tired. Surprisingly, the crowd goes away, but they'll surely be back...
You breathe in and out, shaking your head from all the attention, but suddenly, you bump hard against something and your hands automatically cover your poor nose; the pain makes you cry under your nose a tiny "oww," just what the hell is that pole here? Was there one before?!
"Ouch! 'm sorry sweetheart! Thought ya would finally notice me, but not that kinda way..." Boothill's voice reaches your ears and you open your eyes in the span of seconds, "I can't believe ya didn't tell me about all of this! A god dang event just for you, and those little motherfudgers that barely let me in, let alone get closer to ya—"
Boothill takes your hands off your face in his, pressing a soft kiss on your nose, "I didn't know my sweet pea was so smart," his voice gets softer and quieter, eyes gazing into yours, "I'm so proud of ya. I really wish you've told me about this, so we could be properly celebratin' this together."
You no longer could fight your tears and let them run down your cheeks, "I'm sorry, I didn't— I didn't think anyone would even show up," you sobbed, "I didn't even know if I could get through this if—" your sentence gets cut off by Boothill's fingers pushing your chin up and staring at you with ungodly amounts of love in his eyes.
"Silly you," he wiped off the tears with his hand, "of course they'd come. They did. So many people are here just for you, admirin' yer work and almost fightin' to say a word to ya. I know ya often doubt yourself, but, as you can see," Boothill looks behind you and see people fawning over your projects, "there's no need for it. You deserve all of this, sweetheart, even if I can't understand a single fudgin' word. You put yer entire heart into this - I see it, love."
Boothill's words only make you cry harder, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him tightly - but this time, your tears are those of joy.
After calming down, you sit nearby with Boothill next to you. Sparing him a glance, you confusingly mention the new hat he's wearing, "Ha! Took ya long enough to see! It worked as intended - ya didn't know it was me back there, in the crowd!" He exclaimed proudly, sending you a smug grin.
#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill#boothill hsr#boothill x reader#.anon thirst
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Top Shelf Love: Chapter 2
A/N: Has anyone else been watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs? Just Me? I haven't decided yet who I want to be in the final ever since my Canes have been eliminated... Anyways! All this to say that it's been fun writing this hockey fic while watching hockey, and I hope everyone enjoys reading this latest chapter :)
Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part
Cassian
Despite having played the Kraken in Seattle once last season, Cassian has to admit it’s pretty nice being on the home side of Climate Pledge Arena. Sure, playing in a place like Madison Square Garden most nights was a dream, one he held since he was just a boy, but there’s something to be said about all the upgrades and modernity that a newer arena has to offer.
Following the director of team services out of the elevator, they come to a set of frosted glass doors, the Kraken logo split between the two. As they step closer, the doors automatically slide open, revealing the locker room, and Cassian barely swallows down an impressed whistle. It’s certainly spacious, even for an NHL locker room, LED lights and the Kraken logo displayed on the ceiling. At least, he won’t have to worry about stepping on it here.
“Valdarez.”
Cassian turns just in time to see a tall man walking toward him, blonde hair cut short and beard trimmed to just a stubble along his cheeks. His grin is wide and easy, revealing the chipped upper tooth on the left side. It’s easy enough for Cassian to recognize the captain of the team, Fionn Donoch. He still remembers watching him lift the Cup back when Cassian was just a teen.
“Wanted to make sure I came down to meet you myself,” Fionn continues, holding out his hand for Cassian to shake.
“Are you sure you didn’t just want to come down and remind me who’s really in charge here?”
Fionn laughs good naturedly at the joke, slapping Cassian on the back. “You’re going to fit right in here. So, what do you think so far?”
Cassian glances around the locker room again, thinking back to the practice facilities he’d toured earlier. “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, all the fancy arena upgrades.”
“Definitely not the worst place to call home, right? Listen, they don’t have the ice down yet, but I can still show you if you want.”
At Cassian’s nod, Fionn leads the way out of the locker room. They pass through a glass lined hallway, Fionn explaining how during game days, it’s lit with blue LED lights, how fans typically line the other side, banging the glass and getting the boys going. Then they’re stepping onto the home bench and the arena floor, and Cassian gets to appreciate what the view will be from ice level. He turns slowly in a circle, taking in the stands, the scoreboards, the afternoon light streaming through the wall of windows.
He takes a deep breath in, and for a moment, he can almost hear it. The blare of the goal horn. The roar of the crowd. He can almost feel the cool bite off the ice against his cheeks. Can almost feel the surety, the peace that comes from having it beneath his skates, from the comfortable weight of a stick in his hands.
“Have you met with Miller yet?”
Cassian shakes his head of the daydream, turning back toward Fionn. “Yeah, I met with the whole staff earlier this morning.”
He and Fionn continue to talk shop, talk the system, before making their way together toward the garage and their cars. Or, in Cassian’s case, his rental car until he’s able to secure a new apartment and get all his things shipped out. He supposes he should check in with that realtor Eris connected him with again.
“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out,” Fionn tells him, offering another easy grin as he hits the remote of his car. “Even if it’s just food recommendations.”
“Thanks, but I’m actually meant to be meeting up with a friend after this. She’s going to give me the whole tour of the city and all that.”
“She, huh? Let me know if I need to pass her number along to the wife. I don’t think they’ve done dues yet for this season.”
Cassian chuckles at the teasing smirk on Fionn’s face, the implication of his words. But then he thinks back to Nesta. Thinks back to the photos of her Instagram, to those icy blue eyes and that damn expression on her face. He can’t deny there’s been a low, simmering heat in his gut all morning, sparking at the fact he finally gets to meet Nesta, finally gets to witness that fire in person.
“Only if I’m lucky.”
~ * * * ~
Large, looping letters declare Grumpy & Sunshine Books above the door, the window display to the left of the door decked out with an artsy display of flowers and hanging book pages. Cassian glances down at the phone in his hand, the Map displayed on the screen there, confirming he’s in the right place. With a nod, he pockets his phone and presses forward, stepping through the front door.
The scent of paper and ink greets him as soon as Cassian steps inside, along with something vanilla. A candle that he can’t see? There’s a table display of books immediately inside, and Cassian casts them a cursory glance, taking in more looping text and what looks to be a variety of cartoon characters on the covers. He weaves around shelves and more table displays, past a wall of vines and succulents and a pink neon sign declaring Most ardently.
And at the very center of the store, Cassian finds the register and the woman he’s looking for bent over a book behind it. Cassian had known Nesta was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen since he first saw her picture, but seeing her in person is another thing altogether. Seeing her standing there in front of him almost has him wanting to drop down to his knees right there in the middle of the bookstore.
Her hair is braided back in an intricate updo, but with her head bent down, a strand of golden brown hair tumbles down her temple and kisses her jawline. Deft fingers brush the hair aside and behind her ear absently, further revealing the sharp cut of her cheekbones. When she turns the page of her book, her lips part, eyebrows jumping, and Cassian thinks he might give anything to see her eyes properly, to see if they spark and flare along with whatever she’s just read.
He’d give anything to have those eyes on him.
“Reading on the job?”
Nesta snaps her book closed, her attention finally rising, and Cassian gets his first look at those blue eyes he’s so often thought about. They’re a similar shade to Feyre’s, sure, and yet so different somehow. They seem to burn with a silver fire that leaves the cool shade of them looking like a storm roiled sea, especially when that gaze narrows on him, her lips pinching into a scowl.
Cassian doesn’t let the reaction deter him. If anything, it only stokes the embers in his own chest, beckoning him into the flames. He closes the final few steps between them, leaning against the register counter with a smirk.
“Nesta Archeron,” Cassian greets.
“Cassian Valdarez.”
His name falling from her lips shouldn’t sound as sweet as it does, especially with the clipped tone she speaks it, but a zing of electricity still skitters down Cassian’s spine nonetheless. What would it take to have her saying his name again? To have her sighing it? For him to taste it?
“So you do know me, then?” Cassian drawls, daring to glance down at her book. A Calanmai Secret. “And yet, you couldn’t answer any of my texts.”
Nesta crosses her arms, leveling him with a hard look that Cassian is sure is meant to send him running. “Most people would take that as a hint. Yet here you are. In my bookstore.”
“Feyre said you’d show me around the city.”
“Feyre asked me to show you around. I don’t recall ever agreeing.”
“I’m starting to think you’re the grumpy on the sign outside,” Cassian chuckles softly, hoping to at least earn the hint of a smile at his teasing joke.
Instead, Nesta settles both hands on the register counter, leaning forward. “Buy something. Or get out of my store.”
Cassian tilts his head, taken back by the harsh reaction. He’ll clearly have to work harder to get her to smile or laugh. Challenge accepted. Already, he can hear Az’s voice in his mind, making a dry comment about his taste in women. Already, he can see the way Rhys would roll his eyes.
“Fine,” Cassian says easily with a shrug, stepping back from the register counter. “The historical section is…?”
Nesta merely points to a bookshelf to his left, so Cassian turns his attention toward it. He grabs the first book within reach, the spine a blue and green. He’s intent on striding right back up to Nesta and proudly purchasing the book, but then he catches sight of the cover. Of the shirtless man that takes up the cover, the model’s skin clearly oiled up so every ridge of muscle is on full display. A tartan hangs low on the man’s hips, and just above the man the title is scrawled, Highland Escape.
“This… is not what I meant.”
Rather than direct him toward the historical fiction section, Nesta crosses her arms across her chest, her lips tugging up into a smirk. And, oh, there’s a real challenge blazing in her gaze now, that fire that had called to Cassian even in photo form sparking in her blue eyes. It’s beautiful, that look on her face, daring him to play.
He glances around the bookstore again, this time with fresh eyes. The greenery on the walls, the different table displays, the pink neon sign with an Austen quote. Of course. He’d heard of bookstores like these, ones that specialize in romance novels.
When he looks back toward Nesta, she has that same daring expression on her face, her smirk already starting to grow as though she’s won. As beautiful as it is, as beautiful as she is, Cassian refuses to back down. Heat flares through his chest as he fights back a smirk of his own, more than ready to keep this game of theirs going. He clears his throat and turns back to the shelf, sliding the book in his hand back into place. He takes his time reading the different titles along the spine before finally settling on a different book, tugging it free and sidling back up at the register counter.
“I’ll take this one,” Cassian tells Nesta with a grin, sliding the book across to her.
Nesta hums, glancing down toward the book he’s selected. Viking Bride. Cassian waits for the mask to slip, to see a hint of a reaction take over her face, but she’s nothing but cool and silent as she rings him up. The transaction complete, she tucks his receipt into the cover of the book, sliding it back over to him.
“Have a nice day,” Nesta offers, her tone mockingly sweet.
Cassian reaches for the book, his fingers brushing along Nesta’s own until she snatches her hand away. “You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”
Nesta snorts and rolls her eyes. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
“Oh, yeah, Nes, you’re a real ray of sunshine right now.”
“Don’t call me that.”
There’s no stopping Cassian’s smirk at earning that reaction, a little tidbit he tucks away, even as he continues, “but it’s not really fair, is it? I mean, you don’t even know me. This is literally our first time ever meeting. What could I have possibly done?”
Nesta’s face falls, a new emotion flashing through her blue eyes. It’s certainly the cool, haughty mask slipping away, but not how Cassian wanted. He frowns at the sudden change, but before he can even begin to attempt to decipher what that emotion is, what that expression could mean, Nesta turns away from him.
“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”
~ * * * ~
Nesta
Nesta doesn’t know what she expected. She knew, in the back of her mind, that despite never responding to a single one of Cassian’s texts, that that wouldn’t be the last of things. But she can’t say she expected him to show up at her bookstore. Didn’t expect him to stride in with a smirk and an easy confidence, to almost proudly buy a viking romance novel.
She wants to hate that he still looks as good as the last time she saw him at Feyre’s engagement party. His hair is loose, dark curls hanging around his temples and tumbling down to his shoulders. His eyes are a hazel as bright as Nesta remembers, a maze of greens and golds that seem to spark with a flickering flame. And that cocksure smile has no damn right being as attractive as it is.
She wants to hate the way he didn’t back down from her ire, from all the quips she threw his way. Instead, he only seemed to rise to meet her, seemed to enjoy it as though it was a game between them. She wants to deny the way his fingers brushing against hers sent a shiver ricocheting up her arm and down her spine.
And he doesn’t even remember her.
She’d felt stupid that night in New York, but she feels even more stupid now. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology or anything, but this is like a slap in the face. And on the heels of that churning feeling roiling through her gut is anger. It burns red hot through her veins, flaring like a wildfire that licks between her ribs.
“If I give you a tour of the city, will you leave me alone after that?”
Cassian clears his throat awkwardly, that cocksure smirk finally slipping. “You want me to leave you alone?”
“What are you doing here?”
Nesta’s attention snaps toward the new voice, finding Emerie standing just inside the door, her brown eyes narrowed on Cassian.
“Hey, how’s it going?” Cassian answers easily despite Emerie’s clipped question. He holds his hand out toward her to shake, but Emerie doesn’t take it. “I’m Cassian.”
“I know who you are,” Emerie tells him airily, stepping behind the register counter.
She reaches out as she passes, fingers curling around Nesta’s wrist and squeezing lightly. It’s a silent question out of view of Cassian’s eyes, to check that she’s alright. Nesta meets her best friend’s gaze and offers the smallest hint of a nod.
“You do? Are you a hockey fan, then?” Cassian asks, unaware of the silent conversation happening without him.
Emerie snorts at the implication. “No. There’s only one hockey fan in this bookstore, and it’s not me.”
“I feel like you don’t like me either…” Cassian comments quietly, tilting his head slightly. “Is everyone the grumpy on the sign? You might want to consider a new name if there’s no sunshine.”
“Gwyn is the sunshine, and trust me when I say you’re lucky that you don’t have to deal with her.”
Nesta has to press her lips together to keep from laughing at the way Cassian’s eyes widen slightly in horror. It’s certainly not a misplaced expression. Gwyn was one of Nesta’s first friends when she first moved to Seattle, and while the redhead is one of the kindest people Nesta has ever met, she’s also the fiercest. Beneath all the bright smiles and easy laughs there’s a viciousness that can and will be released, especially when it comes to those Gwyn cares about.
“I don’t know. You said there’s one hockey fan, right? And I’m guessing it’s this Gwyn. Maybe I do want to meet her. We can talk all things Kraken.”
“Gwyn’s a Nashville fan,” Nesta informs Cassian. “They’re her hometown team.”
And dedicated to her hometown team she is. Nesta doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the first time she and Gwyn went to grab dinner at a sport’s bar, the first time witnessing the way Gwyn ranted and shouted at the large television on the wall.
Nesta waits for Cassian’s face to drop again at this newest tidbit, but what she doesn’t expect is for his grin to grow wider and stretch across his face, for the golds of his eyes to glint. He looks like a child that just stepped foot into a candy store, like this is exactly what he was waiting for, and it has Nesta frowning in confusion.
“My brother plays for the Preds. Azriel. You know, if she wanted, I could probably get her a signed jersey.”
“Gwyn would absolutely lose her mind,” Emerie comments under her breath.
“And what’s the price for this signed jersey?” Nesta dares to ask, squinting suspiciously at Cassian.
Cassian shrugs a shoulder, all faux innocence. “Well, you clearly don’t want to give me a tour, so how about just dinner? You can give me a list of your recommendations then.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“A dinner for a jersey. Sounds like a fair trade to me. Don’t you think, Nes?”
Nesta sighs, shaking her head. “Fine. One dinner and in exchange, you’ll get a Nashville jersey signed. By the whole team.”
Cassian’s smile twists into a smirk, gaze flickering and darkening as he holds his hand out across the register counter. “It’s a bargain.”
Nesta already knows she’s going to regret this, but she reaches forward, sliding her hand into Cassian’s. His fingers curl around her own with ease, his grip surprisingly gentle. His hand is so large compared to her own, practically swallowing hers whole, and the callouses slide against her palm when she pulls her hand back. She has to forcibly shove down a shiver before it can skitter up her spine in reaction.
“Let’s go, then,” Nesta says, gathering up her things where she stored them beneath the register.
She and Emerie share one final look before Nesta leads Cassian out the door and back onto the street. Thankfully, it’s a short walk to one of the local restaurants that focuses on PNW cuisine, a good introduction for Cassian to the city and area.
“So, I have to ask,” Cassian begins once they’re seated at a small table near the back of the restaurant, the waitress vanishing with their drink order.
“Ask about what?” Nesta asks, not even bothering to look up from the menu even though she already knows what she’s going to order.
“About the bookstore.”
Nesta’s gaze flicks over the top of the menu in her hands, eyes narrowing. “Some people like to read, meathead.”
Cassian tips his head back and lets out a booming laugh, earning a few curious looks from the other tables. “Did you really just call me a meathead?”
“I’ve seen you play, seen you fighting other players on the ice.”
“Are you watching my games, sweetheart?” Cassian asks, leaning across the table to smirk at her, those hazel eyes of his glinting in amusement again.
Nesta rolls her eyes, leaning forward as well to sneer, “you wish. I told you, Gwyn is a Nashville fan. I occasionally watch a game with her.”
Cassian hums, and Nesta bristles at the way he continues to eye her. Something about those hazel eyes is almost unsettling, as though he’s looking through her in a way no one ever has. It takes everything within her not to shift in her seat, to simply turn her attention back to her menu.
“History.”
Nesta looks up again with a frown. “What?”
“History,” Cassian repeats, leaning back casually in his chair. “That’s what my degree is in.”
“I thought hockey players got drafted at eighteen? That’s what Gwyn has always said at least.”
“That’s true, but not everyone joins the NHL right out of the draft. I played for my college team for two years before I was finally called up.”
“And what? You magically finished your degree in two years?”
Cassian laughs again, this time a low chuckle that’s surprisingly warm, that practically wraps itself around Nesta’s limbs. “Lucky for me, there’s this really amazing thing called online classes.”
“Oh.”
Nesta doesn’t know what else to say to that, but thankfully, she’s spared when their waitress returns to their table, ready to take their food orders. When she steps away again, Nesta no longer has her menu to use as a distraction, has nowhere else to look except at the man sitting across the table from her. The low light of the restaurant cuts shadows across his cheeks and jaw, the candles on each table flickering in and deepening the hazel of his eyes. The large span of his hand is on full display as he curls his fingers easily around the bottle of wine he ordered, filling Nesta’s glass before he fills his own.
“You never answered my question,” Cassian tells her, setting the bottle back down. “About the bookstore.”
“I told you, some people enjoy reading. Myself included.”
“Yeah, but I remember Feyre talking about how you went to law school, that you’d be terrorizing courtrooms and making everyone regret going up against you. So, what happened? How do you go from lawyer to bookstore owner?”
The urge to lash out, to make a snapping reply that diverts the conversation, claws up Nesta’s throat. She rarely talks about it, about him. The reason she made the move to Seattle in the first place, leaving a gaping wound as big as the distance between them with her sisters. The reason the dream she thought she had, the dream she swore she always wanted, shattered between her fingers like glass, shards cutting deep and leaving her bloodied. The reason she retreated and fell back into the shadows, that Emerie and Gwyn had to pull her out.
There are days where it all still feels so raw, no matter how much time has passed. Days where a sickening feeling will churn through her gut as soon as she opens her eyes. Days where she can still hear his voice, still feel his hands. Days where the voice in her mind morphs into her own worst thoughts, into her mother’s clipped, cool tone.
“My life fell apart, and I decided to open a bookstore with my friends,” Nesta finally answers with a derisive drawl. “Happy?”
Cassian’s face falls, lips tugging down in a small frown. “What does that mean?”
Nesta doesn’t want his pity. It’s the one thing she hates most, people looking at her with pity in their eyes. As though they feel sorry for her, as though she’s weak. When she finally walked away, finally got out, she swore to herself that she would never be weak again, and she’ll be damned if she starts now.
“Last I checked, I don’t have to tell you my whole life story. I answered your question, did I not?”
“Nes–”
“You get one dinner as part of our bargain, remember? Do you really want to ruin it?”
—
Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata
#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#acotar#acosf#nessian fanfiction#nessian fic#nesta x cassian#Top Shelf Love#my fic
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I love how people (pro pals) literally proved me right in my post from two days ago.
I said that they always responded with "i'm not arguing with a zionist, kys" when they were wrong. and BOOM. people did! How hilarious?
Can people learn to have a civil conversation now? because i don't care what "reasons" you have its never fucking acceptable to do that. Especially to minors (which I am!).
I dont want to see any of that "wow you're playing the victim, jews aren't the victim!" card. No i'm not fuck off, you're just trying to redirect from the real antisemitism you're spouting.
I dont want to see "well actually 🤓☝️ I'm an antizionist jew." Because fine, then you don't know what being jewish means. You don't want a country that you can return to and be safe in and have a home in? Fine. But don't take that away from the thousands, if not millions of jews who do want that, who live there or deserve their right of return to their holiest land which was stolen from them from the babylonians and the neo-assyrians as early as 722 BCE.
I don't want to see "well zionists are colonists." because that just means you don't understand the history of the MENA region. because the only colonialism in that area is Arab colonialism. Because they actually DIDN'T come from the levant region, they can from the arab peninsula (see how its called the "Arab peninsula")
Now notice how I didn't deny Palestinian indigeneity? because I can understand that two places can be indigenous to the same area. but keep in mind, the philistines and Israelites lived together with the pheonicians after the Caananite civilization collapsed. Both are fucking indigenous. Get that into your skulls.
The LARGE majority of the the Pro-Israel movement is not to destroy Palestine, its to get back hostages and remove Hamas from power. On the other hand, the large majority of the Pro-Palestine movement is to destroy Israel and displace all jews.
How is this "peaceful"? how is this in any way shape or form not antisemetic because it kinda seems like you just want to cause another pogrom, because forcing jews out of their safe homeland means going into the Arab countries surrounding them that quite literally have had a history of genociding and massacring jews.
Please... have some common sense guys. Theres a better solution than "antifada revolution" and "from the river to the sea."
Thanks for this PSA, i guess.
(To Pro-Pals: stop sending me antisemitism, death threats, and the like. If you do this, you are simply not mature enough to be having this conversation with anyone, and certainly not mature enough to be "advocating" for Palestine. Because in fact, you're just making it harder for a ceasefire to come to be)
#jumblr#funkowrites#jewblr#jewish tumblr#judaism#israel solidarity#jewish#stop antisemitism#free palestine from hamas#antisemitism#israel history#calm down before you speak#do not send me antisemetism i will block you.#if you even think of telling me something antisemetic you're not mature enough for this convo
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So I know in various places there has been discourse about Gordon Porlock not surviving the Hypersleep process. And the "he's a bag of quince jelly on ice" people are incredibly wrong and should feel bad.
Gordon not waking up is a narrative dead end. Gordon dies and then... what? Tell me. Other than the initial gut punch of losing an MC what purpose does it serve? Gordon is gone, and Warren most likely either shuts down entirely or runs. Where to? He knows nothing in this new world. Runs or lashes out and who's he going to lash out at? Aubrey? Clive? The system? How. Tell me how any of this works or is compelling.
Gordon survives and comes out of the pod having lost his memories of Warren. HERE'S a rich vein to tap. Especially if the pod leans into a romantic interpretation of Warren and Gordon's relationship. Does Warren tell Gordon everything that happened, does Warren tell Gordon about his crime? Does Warren push too hard to try and get his friend/beloved back? Then you end up with an Arthur/Yellow situation where that may simply drive Gordon away. It's a more interesting narrative seam, that opens possible plot lines about memory and the past and who we are and what we choose to carry with us and who we are if those things are removed. It asks the question of Warren and more broadly of us- if someone you loved had forgotten the worst thing about you, would you tell them about it? Would they ever really know you if you didn't? Does anyone ever really know anyone else. All of that is interesting to think about and would still be starkly lit by the unflinching spotlight on corporate greed and unfettered, immoral science
Gordon survives completely intact. Another interesting set of paths to explore Now you have narrative possibilities of Warren and Gordon trying to learn how to be human again together. In an whole new world, new context trying to heal but largely adrift in a future they cannot possibly understand. What do THEY do? Does Warren run, like he has always done? Does Gordon follow him? Just walk away together and go be friends or romantic or other and leave cryonics and the fighting behind? Is that a happy ending? Maybe? But it also asks whether we ever really escape our patterns. That even if we are cut off from the circumstances and world that has shaped us, once we are molded there is no hope for change or growth. Maybe they stay and fight, and is it fair to ask these two men who shouldered so much of the initial emotional and physical burden of creating cryotech to shoulder more pain to help fix mistakes they themselves were deeply injured by? It asks does fair matter?
Anyway, Gordon is definitely going to wake up and all the people on twitter gleefully hoping he's goo in a pod are mean spirited sure, but mostly just wrong
now what happens WHEN Gordon wakes up is mostly likely going to murder me, but he almost certainly will wake up
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Can I have sonic/silver/shadow/scourge (separately)with a reader who was sold off for most of their life and really only knew that world. so when they were working together and stuff got stressful reader 'offered' themselves to the boys as an outlet for their stress while trying to make them feel better
A/N: loved this request sm !! i swear i could write even more for each one of them; but i did just little blurbs. i hope i did it well !!
sonic
you’d never seen sonic stressed like this before. he was pacing around his home, more restless than usual; and you observed him from your spot on the couch, sprawled out and certainly more relaxed than the blue hedgehog. you’ve lived with him for a time. he had saved you from a little trafficking ring where you’d spent a better part of your life in - it had taken you a while to grow accustomed to life without begging for scraps in unpleasant ways, and then being tossed into random strangers arms for hours on end.
you owed your life to him. so you could feel your own anxiousness building the more you focused on his little nervous ticks. the pacing back and forth, shoes thumping on the ground, his ears giving little twitches and his tail lowered. you didn’t know how to help him, he never spoke about anything that bothered him. he always brushed it off with a smile and wink, insisting he was alright. you knew better than to believe him.
you slinked off of the couch, making your way over to him. he jerked as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, tucking your chin against his shoulder. he laughed; it sounded nervous and forced.
“ hey - whatcha doin’ back there? didn’t even hear you. “ you hummed softly, fingers beginning to trace against his chest. you saw his ear flick as he tried to crane his neck to look at you, “ you alright? “
“ are you? “ you asked instead, looking up at him. you frowned as he gave you a cheeky smile and shrug.
“ always am! y’know I can get ansty sometimes when there’s nothing to do. “ but you could feel the tension in his body as you held him, shoulders drawn tight and his breathing was slightly labored. your fingers began to trail down his torso, and he instinctively grasped onto your wrist.
“ h-hey, cmon, what’s up? “
“ lemme take care of you. “ you mumbled, lips pressing to his shoulder, and he tensed further, “ you don’t have to tell me why you’re stressed, but at least let me help relieve some of it.. “ your other hand moved instead, drawing dangerously close to his crotch. he yanked himself away and held his hands in front of him as he faced you.
“ no, no, none of that. “ sonic said sharply, on instinct. he hated the thought of using you in such a way after what you’d been through. he sighed and retried, “ no, it’s okay.. don’t ever think you need to do that for me. “ he grasped onto your hands, and you stared up at him with a bit of guilt and anxiousness.
“ I just.. “ he chewed his lip for a moment as he thought, “ things have been piling up for me.. sure I have the others but - people rely on me. and it can be a lot sometimes. I worry I might not be enough. I worry I won’t be able to save people when I’m needed most. “ he bowed his head with another heaved breath, and his arms wrapped around you.
he pulled you into a hug instead, burying his face into the crook of your neck. you slinked your arms around his shoulders and after a moment of hesitation, brushed your hand over his quills. he melted into your embrace at the touch. his voice was muffled as he spoke again.
“ this.. this is better. “ he squeezed you gently, “ can you just hold me like this a while longer? “
“ of course, sonic.. “
silver
it was late, and silver should be well asleep by now beside you; but he wasn’t. you keep from your shared room to the living room, where he sat down with his head in his hands, staring down at what seemed to be a map of the city while illuminated by candlelight. being a protector of a fallen planet was not easy work, worrying for so many people.
you were one of the lucky ones he had managed to find and save. a fallen planet was not easy to those who lived on it either; desperate people will do anything to those of perceived to have less power than them. with the smoke that covered the sky, you had lost track of how many years you’d spent being taken advantage of.
you made your way over and sat down beside him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.
“ you should be asleep. “ silver spoke softly, as he always did. his tone was what had lulled you into security when he found you.
“ so should you. “ you countered, looking down to the map before him. unintelligible scribbles and plans written over it, all the inner workings of his mind put onto paper. you knew he wouldn’t sleep on his own, not while overthinking like this.
you rested a hand on his knee, and he lifted his head to look over at you. he gave a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“ get some sleep, I’ll be there soon, I promise. “ you gave a small shake of your head, your hand sliding further up his leg.
“ ‘m not tired.. “ you replied softly, lips pressing against his cheek, and then his jaw. he shuddered and melted into it; until your hand brushed over his crotch, where he jolted and took your hands. his muzzle was flushed and his breath was quick and trembling.
“ what are you doing? “ silver’s voice was quiet, unsure.
“ trying to help you. “ you replied, trying to work your wrist from his grip, “ you’re too worked up to sleep.. I can help you waste some of that energy; I’m good at it. “ his lips twitched into a frown, more out of sadness than anything as his mind caught up to what you were trying to do.
“ (y/n).. “ he sighed, his hand coming up to cradle your face, and you leaned into it, “ that’s not.. I don’t want to use you in that way. my stresses are my issue to take care of, not yours. and not in that way. “ his thumb stroked your cheek, “ I think to highly of you to do that. “
you frowned, shameful as you looked down at your lap. he crooned as he kissed your head, “ come on, love.. you’re right, we should both get some sleep. “ he waved off the candlelight he was using and rose from his spot. he helped you up along with him.
“ I adore you, (y/n). “ silver spoke as you made your way to the bedroom, “ know that. what would help me more than anything is having you by my side. that’s all I’ll ever need to get through this. “
“ okay. “ you whispered, settling into bed with the hedgehog, “ I love you. “
“ and I you. “
shadow
you jumped as you heard the door slam shut, knowing well shadow had come home. he didn’t usually come home upset but when he did, you knew it was because G.U.N was being unreasonable and while he could stand his ground against them; even he couldn’t deny certain missions. not when one had led him to you, where he had found you and saved you from the unfortunate life you had. you witnessed firsthand the rage in which he held.
you peeked from the doorway to watch him as he grumbled, tossing his gun down onto the table by the doorway, his quills bristled in frustration. you desperately wanted to help him, relax him somehow. you didn’t like seeing him upset. you inched your way out of the room, calling out to him with your voice light; not wanting to startle him.
“ shadow? are you okay? did something happen at work? “ you jumped as his head snapped in your direction, his expression alone making you shut your mouth. he was definitely not in the mood. he snarled as he made his way over.
“ what are you doing awake? can’t handle being alone for a moment too long? you always have to pester me with your useless questions; does it look like I’m okay? I get you may not have had much education where you were from but you can’t be stupid. “
you wished you could cave into yourself, make yourself smaller. he always said such harsh things when he was mad, directed at whatever or whoever was in the general direction of his view. you should have known better than to try and provoke that. you tried to keep your lip from wobbling as you dropped to your knees before him, and his look of anger flickered into confusion.
“ ‘m sorry, please don’t be mad at me. “ your fingers inched up his legs, and his eyes desperately flitted from your hands and your face, unsure of just what it was you were doing. you’d never done this sort of thing to him before. he winced as your fingers brushed at his thighs and he stepped away, your hands dropping to your lap.
“ no. “ shadow replied firmly, annoyance settling onto his face. he’d caught on, finally, “ get up. don’t be ridiculous; why would I want that from you? “
“ ‘m sorry. “ you sniffed, balling your hands on your lap, “ it’s.. it’s all I know to do. I don’t want you mad at me; I wanted to just make it up to you. please don’t hate me. “ you bowed your head, tears slipping down your face. you could hear him heave a sigh and he knelt before you. he tried to lift your face and you weakly fought against it, and the second time he was successful. he frowned at your tear-filled eyes.
he was clearly trying to determine how to fix this. emotions weren’t his strong suit, other than anger and pride. and he couldn’t even begin to imagine how your life was before he had found you; how complex it must be to still have those instincts engraved into your being.
“ I’m not mad at you. “ he decided to say, wiping your tears with the back of his fingers, “ my frustrations were.. misdirected. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, or.. insulted you. I should know better. “ you sniffled and nodded, to which he snorted softly; and then composed himself, “ I was offended on your behalf. I didn’t want you to think of me in that way, that I would use you for my own sake. “
he rose to his feet, helping you up gingerly, “ I helped you leave that place; I’ve heard what you’ve been through. it would be the last thing I would ask of you. not unless.. you decide for yourself. “ he averted his gaze for a moment and then focused, “ I apologize. “
“ it’s okay. “ you laughed tearfully, wiping off the rest of your tears onto your shoulder, “ are you hungry? I have your plate saved in the kitchen. “
“ I could eat. “ he nodded, “ care to keep me company? “ you smiled and tugged his hand to lead him to the kitchen.
scourge
“ fuckers! “ you heard scourge hiss from where you sat on his throne, entertaining yourself on your phone. you looked up to watch him stomping his way over, and you quickly got off to make room for him. he sat himself down and motioned for you to sit on his lap; he always insisted the weight of you on him relaxed him. you obeyed and looked up at him with a small pout.
“ what’s wrong? “ he groaned at the question and lolled his head back, as if remembering everything all over again; which only infuriated him more.
“ ungrateful citizens, that’s what! ya lead ‘em, ya let ‘em cause whatever chaos they want; and they still bitch and complain! “ you listened with little nods, letting him ramble on. it was the least you could do. you didn’t agree with all that he did; but after he ran into you you being sold off on a corner, stopping you before you climbed into the car of your next customer. once he’d found out what it was that was going on, he went on a rampage. he nearly beat your seller and the customer to a bloody pulp, and insisted you stayed with him - so he could keep an eye on you.
you both knew by now he’d taken a liking to you, whether he admitted to it or not. you jumped as he slammed his hand down onto the arm of his thrown, lip curled in a snarl as he threw his crown off across the room.
“ I should teach ‘em all a fuckin’ lesson! I’m the goddamn king! I deserve respect! “ he leered down at you, his frown curling into a smile, “ dontcha think? they should all be like you; all nice and obedient. never talk back a word. “
you shivered lightly, a cold, unsettled feeling building in your chest. you still nodded. this had to mean something, did it? he wanted you to do something. with trembling fingers, you shifted on his lap to face him. he blinked and watched you curiously, startled by the sudden movement. your hands slid down his chest and torso, creeping closer to his crotch. it took a moment for it to process, but his face flushed and his hands came to take yours; stopping them just before they’d reached their destination.
“ h-hey! “ he laughed nervously, “ almost went a little low there, babe. what’s up with ya? “ your nervous look cause his smile to falter slightly, and he sat up a bit, “ hey, what happened? c’mon, y’can tell me. “
“ i thought.. I thought you wanted me to do something. “ you replied quietly, fingers twitching anxiously, “ to help you calm down.. y’know? “ he blinked as the words proceeded, and he frowned.
“ what? no - never. d’you think I’d make ya do that? after what ya went through? I know ‘m a shitty guy, babe, but I ain’t a monster. “ he huffed, bringing your hands to his lips, and you flushed as he kissed over your knuckles, “ nah. I just like bein’ pissy and go on complainin’. I was only complimentin’ ya with what I said before. “
“ yer nice, and quiet, and you let me go on and on when someone’s got me riled up. I didn’ word it right. that was my fault, doll. “ he hooked his arm under your legs to shift you back into your original position, and coaxed you to lay your head against his chest, “ never gonna be a thing I ask of ya, alright? ya been through enough already. “
you nodded against him, relaxing into his hold with a sigh. you felt his hand smoothing over your head, and down to your and to give it a squeeze, “ yer alright here, doll. “ you closed your eyes with a smile, listening to him as he picked up his ramble again.
“ but those anti-mobian’s; ‘m tellin’ ya doll. they’re nothin’ but a mess, gotta just go down there and.. “
#sonic characters#sonic fandom#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the ultimate lifeform#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#sonic the hedgehog#sonic x reader#silver x reader#silver the hedgehog#silver the hedgehog x reader#scourge#scourge x reader#sonic fic
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The Mentor Pt. 8
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: Tribute interviews only heighten the stakes, and the 75th annual Hunger Games begin.
Part 7
You straightened Darla’s skirt one last time before you had to join the audience. The behind the scenes folks were already a little miffed, insisting you shouldn’t have been back there at all. None of them would’ve dared try to escort you out, however, so you had as much time as you wanted.
“Remember what we talked about? Okay?” You checked in quietly, and she nodded once again. Darla was pretty sure you had asked a hundred times already.
“I’ve got it,” she told you, vaguely mocking. But she tried not to make too much fun of you, she knew you only fretted like that because you cared.
You took a step back, sighing, “Alright.” You got the message, but couldn’t quite help it. “Just be your charming self,” she rolled her eyes at the words she’d heard before, “they adore you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she mocked, and nodded towards the door. Knowing full well she could handle herself, you shook your head as you turned to leave the backstage area.
You settled into a free seat on an aisle with a good view of the stage. Taking a quick look around, you spotted Haymitch a few seats down in the aisle behind you. Other familiar faces were peppered in the audience, and it certainly was a full house. Now you could only watch what your fellow victors had in store.
The careers went first, and, surprisingly, seemed to be making their own bids at cancellation. Betee followed suit, though more overtly. But the audience was unswayed, and seemed somewhat to be saving their applause.
“Finnick,” Caesar began, and was quickly interrupted by the loudest raucous heard yet. That’s who they’d been waiting for. Desperate screams cried out through the audience, including the woman right behind you. You flinched when she jumped to her feet, wailing.
He put on a gracious smile for the audience, giving them a slight bow.
“I understand that you have a message for somebody out there. A special somebody,” Caesar chuckled, though the cheers from the audience let up. Finnick must’ve asked for the prompt beforehand somehow- Caesar wouldn't have asked that himself. So what was he playing at? “Can we hear it?”
Finnick nodded only once before looking out into the audience. “Well, Sugar,” he started with a laugh, and you instantly perked up.
“I’m not quite sure how we got here, but I know you ran off with my heart a long time ago. Everything we’ve shared since,” he said sincerely, cutting himself off when he got choked up. “If I die in that arena, I want you to know… you’ve made it all worth it. And you’re clever enough to know just what I mean.”
You did, too. For about a minute, you sat frozen. Staring up at the stage with wet eyes. Neither of you had ever said it, but you’d just heard it. In every word he said. I love you.
For a while now you’d suspected he felt the same, but public words of adoration were very different. And they certainly crossed the fine line you’d both drawn unspokenly.
You only hoped you could talk to him about this before he went into the arena.
The interviews continued without your attention, however, and you eventually tuned back in for Johanna’s.
You had to muffle your laughter at her interview. God you adored her. The outrage coming from around you didn’t help, nor did Jo's angry stomping. Luckily, you managed to hold yourself together.
But eventually came the interview you were most nervous for.
“Now Darla,” Caesar began, and you drew in a deep breath. “Last time I was interviewing you on this stage… you were late.”
The audience laughed, and you internally commended Caesar for his impressive influence over them. He laughed with both them and Darla, “Don’t think I forgot!”
Once the crowd had died down, she smiled and nodded, “Oh believe me Caesar, I remember too. Only I didn’t quite tell you the truth that night.”
Your brow furrowed. Where was she going with this? Caesar seemed intrigued too, “No?” He wanted more, and so did the audience.
“Well, when I told you my mentor was busy fussing over me, that was the truth. Only, she was worried about me, not my appearance.” Caesar leaned forward, and the audience seemed to as well.
“You see, I had the worst case of stage fright. I was so nervous to come out here and see you, Caesar,” The interviewer gave her a gentle smile, and the audience let out some soft ‘awww’s. You couldn’t help the way your eyes welled up at the memory of the night. “She had to come all the way from the training center in her pajamas, with hair all wet from the shower,” you smirked wryly as the audience gave some good natured chuckles, “just to pick me up and dust me off.”
“Isn’t that sweet?” Caesar asked. “Well, I, for one, have loved seeing you two over the years,” the audience cheered at that. “What was it you called her that night? Your mother hen?”
Your gaze flicked to Finnick at that, and the look on his face told you he remembered too.
Darla chuckled a bit before nodding, “I did, but she’s a lot more to me. She’s been there for me through so much, and I am so lucky to have her in my life. This time around, Caesar, I’m fighting to go home to my sister, so we can spend the rest of our lives in peace.” And you thought your eyes were watery before.
“You volunteered for her,” Caesar said, pushing for more.
“I’d do it a million times,” Darla nodded, “If she has to watch her only living mentee die, then I regret that. But knowing she’s safe is enough to outweigh any fear I might have going into the arena. She cares so much for everyone around her. But I don’t think she knows how much we care too.”
A camera cut to you, then, and caught the tears slipping softly down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them when you realized what was happening, flashing the camera a bashful and watery smile. You turned your attention to the stage, and blew Darla a kiss. Love you, you mouthed, bringing your hand to your heart.
She just smiled back at you, shaking her head.
“Well, let’s show them both how much we care,” Caesar told the audience, and was met with booming applause. You were impressed, Darla’s angle was even better than your own. But more than that, you knew she meant every word.
Katniss’s display was impressive, of course. The dress her wedding gown had burned to reveal was stunning, if not shocking. You just knew Snow would be stewing at home. Good.
But it was soft-spoken Peeta who took you by surprise. He was stellar at playing to the crowd, and he had everyone on the edge of their seats towards the end of his time.
“If it weren’t for…?” Caesar wanted the answer badly, it could have certainly been a home run for him to end the show on.
“If it weren’t for the baby,” he rushed out, looking sad. Your eyebrows skyrocketed up, eyes going wide. The audience was in an uproar. All at once, everyone was on their feet. You joined them, eager to keep the stage in sight. From the corner of your eye, you caught Haymitch still sitting, snickering to himself. He raised his flask, almost in toast.
It didn’t take you long to catch on. Fucking brilliant. The kid had played them all, and the entire audience began calling for a cancellation. A home run indeed. Caesar, for the first time since you’d known him, looked panicked. He truly did not know how to handle this. A crowd had never turned to this degree, there had been no problem he couldn’t mend with charisma. But not this time.
The tributes on stage held each others hands, and raised them for the audience to see. Pulling out all the stops. The room went pitch black, and a few dramatic Capitolites screamed. It didn’t take long for the lights to come back on, but a curtain had fallen in front of the stage.
——————————————
Darkness consumed the stage, and Darla took the opportunity to turn around. It was a happy coincidence for District Ten to be directly in front of District Four.
"Nice work, loverboy," Darla teased, quietly.
"Yeah, yeah," Finnick whispered out, sounding bashful, "I try."
Darla giggled, and she thought she heard some quiet laughter coming from Mags. If the Games had done nothing else, they’d shaken things up.
——————————————
After the whirlwind interviews, you and Darla took the chance to relax. There would only be one more day before the games and there would be no more calm moments when they began.
“I’m going to bed,” Darla said after she got out of the shower. You couldn’t help but smirk at her.
“Get some rest, Granny,” you nodded sagely. She had often made fun of you for the “old woman-bed time” you employed. She grabbed a pillow from a decorative chair and hurled it at you. You managed to dodge it, snickering at her as she stomped off.
Your mood quickly soured after her departure, however, as early nerves crept in. Walking the various floors of the center did not help as much as you had hoped, but you kept at it.
Eventually, you reached the ground level. The bar you’d spoken to Haymitch in went by on your left. Past it, and further down the hall, you came upon an indoor pool. Peering in, you spotted a familiar head of sandy blond hair. Quietly, you pushed the door open at were met with the smell of chlorine.
“Is that nickname gonna stick?” You asked from just beyond the doorway. Finnick was sat at the edge of the pool, moving his legs through the water. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder, relaxing a bit when he realized it was only you.
It took him a second to reply, “Not sure yet.” His gaze went back to the water as you settled down next to him. Your long pajama pants kept you from dipping your feet in too. Instead, you curled your legs up to your chest, resting your chin on your knees.
“Right.” It was quiet for a second.
“I think I need something more unique,” he finally decided, “I have to set myself apart from other interested parties”
“You don't have to worry about them” you smiled, shyly, "I’ve only ever been interested in one party."
“A very lucky party, I’m sure,” he nodded.
“I’d like to think so,” you replied. “And I’d like to think that party is only interested in me.”
“He is,” Finnick nodded quickly, but paused, unsure if he’d further upset the careful balance of not quite discussing your clearly mutual feelings.
You laughed a little, but stopped yourself. “When do you think it’ll be time to stop dancing around each other?”
He smiled gently, “When I make it back to you.”
“I see,” you nod, seriously, “I think I can wait that long.”
“Well, I’d hope so since we’ve both waited this long,” he shrugged.
You took in a sharp breath, “Just make sure you do come back.”
“Oh, it’s a done deal now,” he deadpanned, “all I needed was a little motivation.” You laughed quietly, shaking your head. You stood to walk away before stopping yourself.
Crouching down again, you wrapped your arms around him and set your chin on his shoulder.
“I’ll be seeing you,” you whispered with a quiet confidence. He turned his head, trying to glance at you from the corner of his eye. You bumped your temple to his before pulling away and leaving him to his thoughts.
——————————————
The next day was all lounging and eating and watching trashy Capitol-made programming. You periodically interrupted a busy schedule of relaxing with strategy talks. Darla seemed displeased, but they were discussions you needed to have.
“If you can’t find any allies straight out the gate, I want you to go off on your own,” you said seriously over lunch, and Darla’s face scrunched up.
“Can we not?” She took a big bite of her sandwich.
You shook your head, “We’ve got enough sponsors that I can send you a weapon right away, you wouldn’t even have to bother with the Cornucopia. Scope it out first and make your choice in the moment.”
Darla swallowed harshly, and set her jaw. You could tell she wasn’t happy about these conversations. She was more the act first-think later type.
“Fine,” she said, finally. Darla moodily picked up her sandwich again.
“You know I’ll be watching the whole time, right?” You took a breath. “Even if things go wrong, I’ve got you,” you promised, “okay?”
Some of the tension in her shoulders eased at that, “okay.”
“Good,” you smiled, “let’s go eat on the couch.” Darla was happy to oblige to that request.
The two of you were parked on the couch well into the evening, laughing and talking and trying to make the most of what could be your last night together.
——————————————
You woke up to some rustling, a little groggy. It was still dark out, and for a second you couldn’t place where you were. Still on the couch, you realized. Your vision cleared up when you rubbed your eyes, blanket falling from your shoulders. When did that get there?
Artificial light came shining in from the hall, and you realized what you had awoken in time for.
Just as Darla was about to step through the doorway, you called out to her.
“Hey,” she spun quickly, “don’t die.”
“That’s your big advice?” Her tone disguised her clear amusement.
“I am an expert,” you said, voice was still scratchy from sleep. She only smiled and shook her head, walking through the doorway before she could beg to stay.
The sun rose, and light crept into the roomy penthouse as you stayed frozen, staring at the door. You only looked away when the TV clicked on and the hour-long pre-Games broadcast began.
It took half that time for you to get dressed and another few minutes to find a quiet lounge in the lobby. Not that you could settle comfortably into it. It didn't escape your notice that your hands were already shaking with nerves. You took to pacing as a distraction.
"If you stress too much now you won't have enough left for later," A gruff voice chimed from behind you.
"I've got stress to spare," you shot back, still pacing. As much as his comment annoyed you, you were glad Haymitch was there. His presence would certainly ground you, and remind you that you weren't the one back in the games. You were safely in the Capitol, though if all went according to plan you wouldn't be for long. Not that anything within the Games ever went according to plan.
The start of the countdown pulled you from your thoughts, and you stopped in place. Wide-eyed, your gaze was locked on the screen.
5
4
3
2
"Salud," Haymitch said, raising his glass and taking a drink. When he had fixed it for himself, you weren't sure. You snatched it from his hand as the cannon went off.
Fear iced your fingers as you watched the tributes dive in. You couldn't help but take a sip yourself.
———————————
This is much later than I wanted it to be y'all - sorry shit's been stressful <3 thx for reading
taglist: @emerald-09 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @daixylie @fandomhopped
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Donald Duck, Della Duck, Daisy Duck, Gus Goose and Gyro Gearloose's Easter and Birthday Celebration - Donald's Family and Friends - Quack Pack AU - Duckverse
Even though I know it’s past, I wish everyone a happy Easter once again, according to the Julian calendar, as well as the one that has passed, as well as a happy belated birthday to Gyro Gearloose and Gus Goose and happy birthday to my best and favorite character, Donald Duck, who will celebrate his 90th birthday this year! And happy birthday to Daisy and Della Duck, since they are also celebrating their birthday at the same time as Donald Duck. And together with their friends and relatives. And they are present at Donald’s jubilee 90th birthday. I drew as the end of the celebration of the Easter holidays as well as the birthday of my favorite characters.
On June 7, 1940, Donald's classic short “Mr Duck Steps Out” was shown, featuring Daisy Duck for the first time. 9/6/1934 The Classic Short "The Wise Little Hen" was shown and Donald Duck appeared there for the first time. Donald Duck will become one of the main stars of not only Disney, but also cartoon films, comics and video games at all. Certainly there is no need to tell his history. Della Duck is first mentioned in the comic book Donald's Nephews, and then made her first appearance in the 1994 comic strip "The Empire Builder from Calisota" by Don Rosa, from The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. Gyro Gearloose first appeared in the comic "Gladstone's Terrible Secret" published in May 1952 by Carl Barks. On May 18, 1938, in the classic short "Donald's Cousin Gus", Donald's cousin Gus Goose, who always likes to eat, appears for the first time. So I wish everyone a happy birthday. Certainly to all who are Orthodox (especially those who celebrate according to the Julian calendar and who celebrate after the Jewish Passover) who live in Palestine, Syria, Egypt, Armenia, Greece, Serbia, Cyprus, Russia, Belarus, Bulgaria, Romania, Georgia, Ukraine, Montenegro, North Macedonia and to all Orthodox people living around the world, I wish you a happy Easter! Christ is risen! Христос васкресе!
If someone asks me, yes, it is celebrated differently among the Orthodox and differently among the Catholics and Protestants, so it turned out to be a completely different Easter this year. Don’t worry, there will be a joint Easter next year. So Orthodox Easter fell on this day. The day he was crucified and died, resurrected and defeated death and the devil and proved that there is eternal life for all of us who believe. Glory to Jesus Christ who died for all of us sinners and rose again for all of us to save us!
This time Jose Ze Carioca (José Carioca-Zé Carioca) and Donald found themselves together and applied one traditional Serbian custom for Easter, and that is beating eggs, hitting egg on egg. The one who hits well and leaves that egg undamaged, is the winner. So I put them on this time too. And don’t worry, they don’t eat eggs, they are mostly artificial eggs. ;)
I drew a drawing, this time with adults keeping the Easter tradition and celebrating a birthday and mostly I combined from Quack Pack, The Legend of The Three Caballeros, Donald Duck comics (Italian comics), Ze Carioca comics (Brazilian comics), Darkwing Duck, Ducktales both versions, Double Duck and Duck Avenger (Paperinik) comics. It's mostly part of that Quack Pack AU of mine. I drew mostly in my own way. In addition to beating eggs, there are also Easter eggs, cherries and birthday cake. Mostly present in this drawing are Donald Duck, Daisy Duck, Jose Ze Carioca (José Carioca-Zé Carioca), Rosinha Maria Vaz, Nestor, Aracuan Bird, Panchito Pistoles, Della Duck, Gyro Gearloose, Dickie Duck, Little Helper, Gus Goose, Fethry Duck, Gladstone Gander, Abner Whitewater Duck, Uno Ducklair (One-Uno), Drake Mallard, Fenton Crackshell, Gandra Dee, Morgana Macawber, Launchpad McQuack, Lyla Lay and Kay K. I wanted to add more characters, but unfortunately not all of them would fit on my drawing. Sorry!
I hope you like this drawing and this idea and feel free to like and reblog this, just don’t use these same ideas of mine without mentioning me. Thank you! Also Happy Easter to everyone once again and Happy Birthday to Gyro Gearloose, Gus Goose, Daisy Duck and Della Duck! But especially happy birthday to my best duck, Donald Duck! And this is just the beginning of that celebration!
This is also a gift for my friends @isabellanajera, @you-big-palooka, @elmer-dat-gander , @fantasticenthusiasttale and @barbiedisneyavenger as well as for a friend who recently celebrated her birthday, happy birthday dear @nuvemzinhacorderosa ! I hope you like this!
#my fanart#donald duck#happy birthday#duckverse#quack pack#ducktales#ducktales 2017#darkwing duck#the three caballeros#the legend of the three caballeros#daisy duck#della duck#gyro gearloose#gus goose#fethry duck#dickie duck#jose carioca#panchito pistoles#easter#ze carioca comics#comics#rosinha maria vaz#ze carioca#rosinha vaz#disney ducks#drake mallard#disney duckverse#aracuan bird#nestor#gladstone gander
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↳ EVENT 26. M!Whitney (Hybrids & Incest)
Pairing: M!Whitney / CowHybrid!F!Reader
Genre: Smut 18+
WC: 2,516
Warnings: hybrid, hint of a/b/o?, heats, stepcest, pseudo incest, degradation, name calling, tit play, lots of nipple sucking, milk drinking, blowjob, creampie
Prompt(s): 02 — hybrid(s) + 07 — incest
Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!
A/N: words cannot describe how excited i am to be indulging in hybrid content... for as much as i love it, i very rarely write it... but its so much fun, isn't it? a/b/o content is probably top of my list of fanfic tropes, and paired with incest too ??!! ur spoiling me <3 although it's only a hint of abo relating to the whole "heat" concept but yknow... ty for this good time!
You always were a handful, weren't you?
From the moment you entered his life, honestly. Look, Whitney, meet your new baby sister! Remember, you have to look after her as her older brother! And, well, all he really heard was: new victim. He could immediately tell that you were gonna be trouble. Big round cheeks for him to pinch at in private, seeking his (mis)guidance whenever possible. You almost make it too easy for him to bully you, right? As if you want him to coax those cute fat tears from your pretty little doe eyes with harsh words, pouting up at him so sweetly as he berates you for God knows what now.
So he's not surprised to hear of your adventures when you arrive home from an extended stay on the farm. Worried he was, frantically searching for his favourite victim high and low, but he'd never indulge you in such details even when you hobble home to his heavy arms. The whole... Cow transformation had caught him off guard in the beginning, but he's grown used to it by now. Even thinks you're cute sometimes, which is fucking annoying. Offering you a mere brief hug and a venomous scolding— fuckin' idiot, fuckin' deserve it for wanderin'.
But, oh... Today is a different kind of trouble, right baby? Staring up at him from between his wide open legs, suckling plenty of pre from his red hot tip, cock pulsing in your delicate hold as another shaky sigh escapes him. Only you could have him feeling so out of his depth, watching you with his head tilted in curiosity as you display such insatiable want for your big brother. It's not that he dislikes it, no, far fucking from it. He's just curious, thinking with his cock when you gently start to stroke him up and down too. His gaze settling on your exposed chest, fat with milk tits just begging to have his mouth around them, fuck. He's thirsty just by glancing at them, cock twitching against your lips as you smear precum like you would lipgloss— only you suit his colour best, don't you think?
Heat, you'd moaned at him earlier today. Sugary dulcet tones piquing his interest, something about the farm, tits fatter thanks to the transformation you underwent during your disappearance. He hadn't even made an attempt to understand how or why; too busy drooling over your new lewd appearance to give a single fuck about the reasoning. If you were his favourite thing before, you're certainly even more fucked when it comes to his obsessions now, flicking at your cute little cow ear just to feel the vibrations from your whine travel down his cock. God, he wants to fuck that little throat forever. Gag your whiny tone with his balls resting against your chin, hear you choke on how cute you are right now, thighs squeezing together before he's even had a chance to properly touch you. It's only fair, right? You've effectively asked him to milk you, so he deserves to be milked too, right? And who is he to deny some slut his cock, even if you are his little sister. Doesn't that just make the whole act of filling you up even hotter? Tapping his tip against your lips once or twice before you instinctively open up your little maw, allowing him to easily slip inside with a satisfied groan.
"Fuckin' slut—" He almost growls down at you, your animalistic display rubbing off on him as you moo softly against his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip well enough to have him sitting more upright on his bed. Fuuuuck, it's like your transformation has turned you lewder, an inherently erotic object of affection for him to push around. Because you're asking for it, aren't you? Ears pinned, tail swishing nervously—infuriatingly adorable, if he may add—politely asking for big brother to take care of you now that you're home. And he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't completely in love with how eagerly submissive you are before him, relying on him to make you feel better, pleading for his rough treatment every time you moo softly in appreciation for his dirty words. "Gross," He says, or calls you, he's not really in the right headspace to make the correct determination himself. And even then he's talking about himself too, the way his balls ache to empty inside of you— doesn't matter which hole, he aims to fill em all up eventually. Secretly thanking... What was his name again? Remy? Doesn't fucking matter now, whoever the fuck turned you into such a slutty little beast, slurping all over his fat fucking cock just to get your puffy little cunt all wet for him deserves his thanks. Thanks for giving him the opportunity to pester you from above, a low moan crawling up his throat at the way you slobber all over him; fuck, like you intrinsically know that he likes it all sloppy. "Messy little moo, C'mon, slut— Look at me when you suck me off."
A mistake, he knows it the moment you adhere to his harsh words. Batting your eyelashes up at him, lips tight around the meat of his cock, rosy red cheeks causing his heart to stutter. His tone betrays him, too. Though by the looks of things, your eyes rolled all the way as his tip touches the back of your throat, gagging on the amount of precum your tongue sucks out of him, you're barely fucking there mentally to notice just how much he's enjoying playing with his little sister, huh? The haze of lust in your eyes gently communicating with him, turning his own pupils heart shaped at the way you so eagerly and easily suck his cock. Gag reflex? Gone, a likely result of your supposed heat. He'd only caught glimpses of the effects you tried to tell him because you became so needy so fast, pawing at his fat bulge enough to convince him into letting his cock spring free. And thank fuck he did, running a hand through his hair in sheer pleasure from how much you drool over him. "Are y'enjoying yourself?" He taunts from above, but his words are a little breathy, a pitch higher than normal when you flick your tongue in all the right places. God, it'd be embarrassing to be this close already if not for the fact that you're no better, making big brother feel so good, aren't you? Do you get off on that? Little cunt pulsing at the thought of making big brother cum down your tight little throat, expertly stroking your hand up and down the length left unattended by your pretty little mouth. Fuck he's so in love with the sight of your furrowed brows, his hips bucking once or twice against your face to showcase exactly how good baby sisters lips have big brother feeling.
Which is why he has to push you away so suddenly, hiding behind the guise of more bullying as he tuts at your whines of disapproval, patting his lap for you to pathetically crawl up into— shit, the wobbling your doing is so endearing it almost hurts. Cock throbbing under your soaked slit; he's not doing this to punish you. Rather, he's doing this because he feels like he's gonna die if he's not inside of you soon, playing the role of stern big brother just to make sure you feel all better again. And you better fucking thank him once this heat or whatever is done with, letting you absentmindedly give his cock a quick slippery pussy job until he's decided enough is enough.
"Sit on it, slut." He orders you around, but he's soft with it. A gentleness to his tone that isn't usually there, even offering you a half smirk when you whine so cutely for him. "Promise t'help, y'just gotta sit on it. Let big brother do all the work for you, okay?" a sigh escapes him, growing increasingly frustrated at the amount of stimulation your angel cunt offers him without being inside; he's so close to cumming it's disgusting. The thought alone of fucking his little sister is a turn on enough, never mind to be lining his fat cock up to your hole enough for you to be able to catch on it.
And then it all happens so fast, your skin hot to the touch as you sink down on his length in one fell swoop, his jaw taut as his teeth grind together in sheer awe— you're so unbelievably tight that it feels almost unfair when a needy whine escapes his lips too. Sounds of pleasure soon buried against your neck when you thoughtlessly start to bounce in his lap, as if driven only by primal need to receive his seed. Which is fucking hot, right? To be getting fucked by his baby sister, simply used for his cock like how he's used to many other sluts before. And in a way, he's using you too. Needing to cum more than ever, some part of him deep down does honestly want to help you, too. But God, you just don't stop. Clinging to his neck, arms wrapped tight to press your tits against him— of which he immediately puts space between again so that he can grab at one of them, his other hand supporting your weight at the small of your back despite how often his grip slips in enjoyment.
They've become so fat, y'know? Bouncing up and down with your frantic movements, even more so when he feels the weight of them. Downright fucking hypnotised by your puffy nipples, tongue already lolling out at just the thought of swallowing around them. And so he does, as if magnetised to your tit, dropping his head a little lower and lifting a nipple to his lips, immediately lapping at your sensitive bud while you happily ride his cock like a good girl.
And the sound, fuck, the high pitched mewl his tongue flicks out of you— it has him seeing black from how hard his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Such a simple touch, but that heat of yours has got you feeling extra sensitive right baby? So soft and pliable on top of him, do you even know what you're doing right now? Riding your big brother so well, the squeeze of your cunt around his fat cock prompting more pre out to stain your insides as his, his head growing cloudy the more time he spends pressing his face to your tits, suckling on your pretty little nipple so obscenely; the sound of his slurping surely head throughout the household, fuck, especially when he squeezes at your tit a little more and something hits his tongue.
The taste is sweet, like sugar. Because of course it is. It's you. His cute, cow-like, dick riding, little sister. Of course your milk just has to taste perfect too, his gaze narrowing in horny frustration from how suited to his tastes you really are, literally. Popping off in a daze to squeeze again, just to watch the milky substance squirt out and hit his face. Filthy slut, if he'd have known your cow tits were so full of milk like this, he'd have sucked it all out of you by now. Jealousy burning in his tummy at the thought of being left out, making his feelings known by reattaching to you nipple and really sucking now, intent on emptying you of your milk reserves in a greedy display of ownership. Allowing his hips to fuck up into you in tandem thrusts, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in response to your moaned mooing— it's stupid just how much that dumb little sound turns him on. Makes his cock all twitchy, his balls all achy just from having you act pretty on his lap.
And he can only hope that this isn't a one time thing, pussy drunk as your insides squirm around him in a way he knows must mean you're close. He's fucked enough sluts to know by now that when your thighs start to tremble by his own, you're almost there. Keeping your tit in his mouth, but dropping both of his hands to your ass, holding on to your cheeks to spread them a little; sluts like you always like that, right? To have him manhandling you into position, aiding your bounces with every suck of your tit, nipping on your sensitive bud just a little to stimulate some more if that creamy milk to drip onto his tongue, your cunt choking his cock from how tight you get at his greedy grabbing.
Another moo quickly tumbles from your lips, an urgent sounding one, a cute one, he thinks. But he's got no time to praise you for riding big brother so well, not enough brain power to even think about the ramifications of helping you in such an immoral way— not when you slam your ass down on his lap and start to grind your orgasm out. Rubbing that puffy little clit against his groin, circling your hips atop his cock in such a fashion that he soon follows suit. Pumping a fat load into your little hole, still attached to your nipple, heavily exhaling through his nose, he seethes against you. Writhing under you with pitiful humps inside of your tight cunt, buried balls deep to feel every eager pulse of your insides squirming around him as you cream his cock; he's never felt so fucking good before when filling a slut up. Begrudgingly popping off of your abused nipple only to latch onto the other, being sure to give them both equal attention in his efforts to help you— no matter how much you might whine for him to stop. Your pretty tits are so full, he's constantly swallowing down some of the sweet liquid...
No, baby, you asked for big brothers help, so let big brother help you, he'd like to say. But he's too busy filling you up, milking himself as he milks you, just like he promised. Wrapping his arms around you even tighter even when he's spent, balls emptied inside of you as he pulls you further on top of him. No longer on the edge of his bed, but rather, cuddling on top of it. Nibbling and sucking and licking on your nipple, because he's drunk on your milky taste. He's not even really helping you at this point, just selfishly taking what he wants from you because he's your big brother, and he can do whatever the fuck he wants when you're in this state, right? And as the younger sibling, you have to do what he says. Morals aside, you don't seem to mind the way he can't leave you alone when your cunt continues to try and suck his cock in further anyway, begging for some more of his milk.
And he'll give you some more, once he's had a fill of yours.
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I have been thinking a lot about the entire Coop-Barb-Janey subplot, not only from a viewer's perspective but also a writer's perspective and here's some thoughts of what we might expect in S2 and/or S3:
☢️ Similarly to S1, S2 could open with a scene set in 2077 showing Coop separating from Janey. It'd be safe to assume that at one point Barb swooped in and took Janey with her to one of the good vaults.
Henry/Hank, being Barb's assistant, might have been directly involved. It would explain why Coop later thinks he might know where both of them are
Coop probably doesn't know that for a simple reason: contrarily to the experiment vaults, the location of the high management vaults must be top secret and the entrance must be well disguised and well protected
Side note: Barb and Janey are definitely not in vault 31. They are not listed on the terminal that Norm checks in one of the scenes
☢️ I think that throughout the season/s we'll get some flashbacks of Coop and Barb from the moment he found out about the bombs all the way to their divorce
I theorize Barb was the one to file for divorce, and one of the reasons was she feared his association with "commies" would lose her (and by extension her daughter) the spot in a good vault
I saw an affair angle being mentioned. I'd say it's not out of the realm of possibility. Still, if there was a third man, it would not be Hank but some high ranking executive, someone who could grant Barb that spot in a good vault.
If there was an affair and it was mostly calculated, I think there could still have been an element of genuine attraction there. The way in which Barb accuses Coop of being an ingenue, makes me think she'd be inclined to develop an attachment to someone who is the opposite of that, someone who'd make her feel safe and supported
Side note 1: the affair angle would tie nicely with the fact that Coop appears to think of his family as having been taken from him
Side note 2: ghoulcy shippers might find it interesting that the side of Coop's character that Barb seemed to resent, is the one Lucy would probably appreciate the most
☢️ All that said, Coop will most certainly find Barb and Janey at the end of S2 or at least will find out where they are and will only literally find them at the end of S3. @earthgenre made an interesting post exploring what might have happened to them. I personally am convinced they were cryo-frozen and one of the following will turn out to be true:
They were awakened, lived and died a long time ago (or were just never frozen in the first place) and Coop will have to deal with the fact that they are just... gone.
They were awakened some time earlier but by now Barb is dead and Janey is all grown up, perhaps with a husband and child/ren, or alternatively she's already old. It could make for a heartfelt reunion but in the end, the two would have to go their separate ways.
They are both still in their cryopods. Coop gets to see his wife and daughter again and is faced with a choice to either awaken them or let them sleep. It would be a test of character for him. If this one came true, I think he'd either let them sleep or awaken them just for a moment of closure and then let them go back to sleep again in wait for a better tomorrow.
You may have noticed I didn't include any scenario in which they reconcile and walk together into the sunset. This is simply because I don't think it's really an option. I mean, could you imagine Barb, the clean-cut corporate exec, traveling across the wasteland with her ex who now is also a radioactive flesh-eating ghoul? And dragging their little daughter along with them?
On the other hand, Coop wouldn't subject them to that. Yes, he's been looking for them all this time but it would be very silly of him to expect them to reunite and just go live happily ever after. And he's a lot of things but silly is not one of them. I don't think he wants to get them back. He just wants to know what the hell happened to them. Closure is what he wants and what he'll probably eventually get.
As much as I'd love to see Coop get back what he'd lost, I recognize that it wouldn't make much sense, narratively speaking. Cooper's journey appears to be about two things: regaining his lost humanity and letting go of the past. He cannot turn back into a human but he can become a better man (ghoul?) with strong(er) morals. Similarly, he cannot get his family back, not really, not even if he finds them alive, but he can always get himself a companion - someone whom he could cherish and protect, someone whom he could literally live for - and the narrative so far seems to imply that companion is meant to be Lucy. I won't elaborate further on that because there's already a gazillion posts quoting various parallels and foreshadowing elements than seem to be pointing somewhere in that direction.
At the end of it, I just wanna say, there is no way back, but there is always a way forward and that, I think, is the lesson Cooper is supposed to learn.
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Lee!Vox Ler!Alastor fic if you're writing for Hazbin right now?
Of course!
Too Much Tech
Summary: There’s an abundance of technology everywhere these days and it makes Alastor upset, he decides to go “speak” with Vox about the issue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not this again…
Wherever Alastor went it always seemed like there was some sort of technology somewhere. Pretty much every demon in hell had a smartphone, there were sales for TV’s outside, holograms of Vox selling stuff, what happened to radio?
Alastor walked down the streets of hell, mostly being avoided due to his status but the demons that were brave enough to approach him and talk to him about “Vox’s new product” well…you know what happened.
Alastor was getting a little fed up with it, “Why is there so much technology these days..” Alastor muttered before turning around back the way he came, he could not deal with this right now.
~*~
Back at the hotel the lobby was rather active today, Husk and Angel were sitting around, chatting with Niffty as she cleaned and Vaggie was trying to hold back snickers as Charlie reprimanded Lucifer and as usual, he wasn’t listening.
“Dad you can’t do that!” Charlie told Lucifer, trying to sound upset but she couldn’t keep the grin off her face, apparently the King had filled her room to the brim with rubber ducks so when she opened her door, she was in for a surprise.
Lucifer started snickering along with Vaggie who just couldn’t hold it together anymore. “Cohohome on Chaharlie you have to ahadmit that was fuhuhunny!” Lucifer snickered and she rolled her eyes playfully, “Yeah yeah that was pretty good.” Charlie grinned and at the moment Alastor walked through the door.
“Alastor! How was your trip?” Charlie exclaimed, walking over to greet the other. “It was quite alright my dear thank you.” Alastor replied with his usual grin, walking over to Husk’s bar for a drink, weird. He never drank.
Husk, Angel and Niffty saw Alastor approaching and Husk straightened, Angel meandered over to go visit Charlie and Niffty scurried over and up Alastor’s arm to rest in his shoulder. “Hi Mr.Alastor!” Niffty greeted and he smiled.
“Hello Niffty dear.” Alastor replied and sat down at the bar, “Need something boss?” Husk asked him and he nodded, “Can you get me a shot of whiskey Husker? I could certainly use it right now…” Alastor trailed off and the cat demon nodded, turning around.
“So what happened with you?” Husk asked Alastor as he turned back around and slid the small glass towards the other demon. Alastor picked up the glass and drank it in one go before answering.
“All this technology, it’s quite ridiculous really, what happened to the older ages.” Alastor muttered, waving his hand and the glass became clean once more before standing up.
“Thank you my friend, the drink was remarkable but I really must be going.” Alastor told Husk and he hummed, not at all paying attention as Alastor started for the other side of the parlor.
The demon sat down and noticed Charlie playfully glaring at Lucifer, “What did he do now my dear?” Alastor spoke up, catching Charlie’s attention who turned with a grin. “He filled my room, top to bottom with rubber ducks.” Charlie replied and the King burst out laughing again.
“Ihihit was fuhuhuhunny!” Lucifer exclaimed, trying his best to keep his composure, “It took me three hours to clean all that up!” Charlie shot back with a grin and at that point Vaggie started laughing again making Charlie shake her head in defeat.
“I must say Charlie that does sound quite amusing.” Alastor told her and she facepalmed as Lucifer laughed harder, “S-Sehehehehee? He gehehets ihihit!” Lucifer cackled, calming down a moment later.
After that whole interaction Alastor began thinking, what if all this technology corrupts his friends as well? He knew Charlie and a few others have phones but at least the technology isn’t corrupting their brains like pretty much every other demon, but what if it did happen? No he couldn’t think like that, he wouldn’t let it.
“Alastor?” Charlie asked, suddenly right in front of him, startling the demon with a crack of radio static making Charlie giggle. “Sohorry Al I was just asking what do you think of upgrading the hotel’s security for the next Extermination Day?” Charlie asked him and he hummed.
“I think that’s a great idea my dear.” Alastor replied and Charlie grinned, “See I knew that was a good idea!” Charlie exclaimed, turning towards Lucifer who huffed and handed over a five dollar bill, apparently they bet on his opinion.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment my dear.” Alastor told her, suddenly noticing something glinting in the camera of Angel’s phone a few feet away. Alastor stood and adjusted his bow tie before walking over to Angel.
“What’s up Freaky Face?” Angel asked Alastor as he approached, “May I borrow your phone for a moment Angel?” Alastor requested and the spider raised a brow, “Uhh what for?” Angel asked him, suddenly sounding very suspicious of Alastor’s intentions.
“I would like to investigate something on the outside of your device, now may I borrow it?” Alastor asked again and Angel flipped the device over before shrugging and handing it over to Alastor who also inspected it.
The deer noticed that there was something shiny glinting in Angel’s camera and he hooked a nail into it and yanked it out. Angel noticed this and his jaw dropped open, as Alastor flipped it over. “Property of Voxtech Interprises, isn’t this your boss’s friend’s work Angel?” Alastor asked him, handing the spider back the phone who took it with a growl.
“Son of a bitch Valentino…” Angel muttered, “Thank you Al.” Angel finished off and Alastor grinned, “But of course my dear.” Alastor replied and walked away, hearing Angel fuming over his shoulder, but little did the spider know, he wasn’t the only one upset about this.
Alastor fought off the changing of his eyes as he found a shady corner and merged with the shadows, time to pay a certain business owner a visit, no one messed with his friends and got away with it.
~*~
Moments later Alastor appeared in Vox’s observatory right as the TV demon was returning from a meeting. “Ahh what the fuck?!” Vox jumped back upon seeing Alastor randomly in his observation room.
“Since when did you get here you prick?! And why are you here??” Vox demanded but quickly silenced himself as he saw the pissed look on the other’s face.
“I would like to make this short and simple.” Alastor snapped and Vox folded his arms over his chest before jumping back in shock as Alastor suddenly appeared right in front of him.
“I saw and removed that thing on Angel Dust’s cellphone. If I see another one of your silly little devices on any of my friends or their belongings I will see to it that you will be punished by my hand. Are we clear?” Alastor spoke firmly, getting ready to snap.
“Y-Yeah whatever now leave will you?!” Vox snapped at him and he grinned, his polite demeanor returning, “With pleasure! And remember what I said.” Alastor reminded the TV demon before disappearing among the shadows once more.
~*~
Back at the hotel Alastor saw Angel still fuming but also getting ready to go somewhere? “Angel where are you going?” Alastor asked the other demon, a bit puzzled. “I’m going to go give Val a piece of my mind, what’s it to you?” Angel snapped at him and Alastor waved him off.
“Not to worry my dear I already had a little ‘chat’ with Vox about the situation, I assure you it will not be happening again.” Alastor told him and immediately Angel’s face lit up.
“Really? Thanks Al!” Angel exclaimed and Alastor grinned at him, “It’s my job to ensure that everyone here is safe.” Alastor replied and Angel grinned back before making his way over to Husk, likely to tell him about what just happened.
Wandering back over with Charlie, Vaggie and Lucifer, Charlie noticed that Alastor had returned and perked up. “Alastor! You’re back! What happened? Both you and Angel seemed pretty upset earlier.” Charlie identified and Alastor nodded.
“Acute observation my dear that’s right but that’s not anything you need to worry about.” Alastor assured her and Vaggie and Lucifer’s eyes narrowed in suspicion but Charlie only thought for a moment before shrugging. “Okay then if you say so.” Charlie told him and then started talking to Vaggie as Lucifer wandered over to stand by his side.
“What happened?” Lucifer asked Alastor, keeping his voice low so Charlie wouldn’t hear. “It’s nothing to worry about Your Highness, wouldn’t want your royal self to get involved in something so minor now would we?” Alastor taunted Lucifer and he grinned as he saw the King’s hands ball into fists at his side.
“Fine then, don’t tell me but just know I’ll be watching.” Lucifer reminded him but Alastor waved him off as Lucifer walked over to join Charlie and Vaggie. Now with nothing to Alastor started for the staircase, opting to go away to rest for a bit in his room.
Once he reached the stairs Alastor started scaling them and thought, he knew there was more technology around the hotel he didn’t know about, what was he supposed to do about that?? Reaching the top of the stairs Alastor went down one of the corridors, still thinking to himself.
A few moments later he’d reached his room as he opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the wood behind him, he would figure it out eventually.
~~~~~~
Back at the Vees tower Vox was pacing in his observatory. “Fuck fuck fuck!” Vox muttered to himself, wtf was he supposed to do?? He just got threatened by Alastor not to do that again and he didn’t plan to he didn’t want to anger the stag anymore than he already had but he already knew that if he didn’t replace that device on Angel’s phone when he came into work Valentino would be mad! So what was he supposed to do???
He supposed he could just go up to the adult film department and tell Valentino about his situation, yeah that would work! So reluctantly Vox plastered on his regular smile and left his observation room, dodging reporters left and right to get to the elevator on the other side of the room.
Once there he stepped inside and pressed the button for Valentino’s department, the elevator jostling up before smoothing out as it began its climb upwards.
A few minutes later Vox heard the elevator ding as the doors opened and he was immediately hit in the face with a gust of pink-ish smoke leading down one of the hallways, well at least he knew where to go.
Vox followed the smoke down the hallway and a few minutes later was met with the sight of Valentino in the middle of shooting a movie. Not wanting to see ‘that’ Vox quickly spun on his heel, averting his gaze from the actors and waiting until they took a break or something but lucky for him his shoes made a squeaking noise that caught Valentino’s attention.
“Pause. Break time everyone!” Valentino clapped his hands and the actors stood, dispersing from the room. Once Vox didn’t hear the shuffling of feet anymore he turned around and nearly jumped back as the moth was right in front of him, okay what was with everyone doing that today?!
“Hello Voxxy, what brings you here?” Valentino crooned and Vox began walking away, confused the moth started following. “I need to talk to you about something Val, something important.” Vox told him and Valentino hummed, in a moment they were in a more secluded corner, away from listening ears.
“Okay so you know that thing you had me put in Angel’s phone?” Vox told Valentino and he averted his gaze in thought, holding out a cigar for Vox to light which he did, taking a drag before lighting up again.
“Ahh yes I remember, what of it?” Valentino asked and Vox’s expression quickly became annoyed. “Alastor found it. And removed it before coming over to my observation room to warn me not to do it again. So if you want to replace the device be my guest but don’t get me involved or use any of my devices.” Vox snapped at the moth and he grinned.
“Will do Voxxy~” Valentino called over his shoulder before sweeping back into the filming room, the TV demon hearing a loud “Get back in position!” Before he started his trek back to the elevator, at least that was cleared up.
~*~
Back at the hotel Alastor stood in his room now contemplating what he should do next. He had already taken care of the Vox situation so what now? He supposed he could go visit Rosie. Yeah he could do that, by now she should be off her shift at work so she should have some time.
So Alastor again found a shady spot in a corner and merged there, this time his destination being Cannibal Town. The deer arrived there a few minutes later, appearing right behind Rosie and luckily she didn’t seem to notice him, perfect.
Very slowly Alastor lowered his hands until they placed down on the woman’s shoulders, “Boo.” Alastor spoke but the overlord did not react?“You’re going to have to do better than that Alastor, you make noise when you arrive via your shadows technique.” Rosie grinned at him, nearly laughing as she turned around and saw the look on his face.
“Worth a shot.” Alastor muttered to himself and Rosie giggled, “Ihindeed it wahas.” Rosie told him, “How’ve you been?” Rosie asked him and he shrugged, “Oh the usual, I have been having to deal with Vox’s technology shenanigans though.” Alastor grumbled and Rosie laughed, “Oh well I’m sure it’s not all bad. I mean it certainly could be worse couldn’t it?” Rosie told him and he grinned.
“I suppose so.” Alastor spoke and she smiled, “See now this is why we listen to Aunty Rosie.” Rosie playfully reprimanded him, waving a finger at him and he laughed, “You are not wrong there my dear.” Alastor replied making them both laugh.
That’s when Alastor noticed that Rosie’s phone that was resting in the table that they were sitting at also had one of those shiny things. Alastor got mad. Really mad. And Rosie noticed and immediately became concerned.
“Alastor dear what happened??” Rosie asked him, beginning to panic as his eyes shifted to radio dials and his antlers grew. Alastor snatched up her phone and popped the shiny thing out like he’d done with Angel and flipped it over and sure enough, it was from Voxtech Interprises.
“Excuse me dear but I really must be going.” Alastor growled and before Rosie got the chance to say goodbye he was gone.
~*~
Alastor re-appeared at the hotel moments later, “Alastor!” Charlie exclaimed, “My apologies my dear but I can’t talk right now.” Alastor told her and grabbed his microphone staff and walked out the door.
Once outside Alastor became even more angry to see drones around the hotel, okay this was getting a little out of hand. He then slipped under one of the ledges of the hotel, merging with the shadows on his way to the tower.
~~~~~
“Well at least I got that figured out now AHH!!” Vox yelped and jumped back as he once again saw Alastor in his observation room which he’d just returned to but the deer looked more pissed off than last time, that couldn’t be good.
“U-Uhh why the h-hell are you back?!” Vox tried to sound angry but in reality he was scared, really scared. Anyone would be if they saw Alastor in his current state.
“I’ll give you 5 seconds.” Alastor snapped, grin still present on his face but it was strained and the sound of angry radio static was loud and heavy in the air.
“F-Five seconds for what?!” Vox snapped at him and Alastor sighed. “Five seconds to tell me why I found one of those shiny things in Rosie’s phone.” Alastor snapped at him and Vox crossed his arms, averting his gaze with a huff.
“Oh hell like I’m telling you!” Vox snapped at him and suddenly Alastor was right in front of him. “I’ll ask again. Why were they there? We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Alastor snapped and Vox still stared at him. “And I’ll say this again. I’m. Not. Telling. You.” Vox clarified and Alastor sighed.
“Fine then. Hard way it is.” Alastor muttered and before Vox could question what that meant he felt the demon’s hands shoot down to his sides and start scribbling, definitely not what he was expecting. Vox jerked, curling in on himself as he fought off laughter that threatened to escape.
“Whahat the h-hell? Why thihis method of a-ahall methods?!” Vox pressed out but mentally cursed himself for the giggles that managed to slip through. “Because I would rather not things get messy wouldn’t you?” Alastor told him and he shook his head, “That’s what I thought.” Alastor grinned, still angry but some of his scary demeanor fading.
“F-Fuhuck you!” Vox snapped at him and Alastor grinned, “Oh dear is someone salty because of something they did to themselves? I’m afraid I don’t know how to help you there.” Alastor commented, moving up to claw at Vox’s underarms making the TV demon jerk away with a strangled noise, curling in on himself even more.
“Oh dear is someone a little sensitive here?” Alastor taunted and that seemed to be the stick that poked the bear because when Vox opened his mouth to snap back his laughter that he’d been holding in came out of him. “Fuhuhuhuhuck!” Vox swore, trying and failing to fight the other demon off.
“There we go much better.” Alastor teased, moving down to rake over Vox’s ribs. “Leheheheave me ahalone!” Vox snapped at Alastor but he shook his head, “No can do my dear, not until you apologize!” Alastor told him and he shook his head.
“Nohohohoho wahahahay! I like keheheheeping tabs ohohon the ohothers!” Vox told him and Alastor tsked, “Well I’m afraid I cannot release you just yet then, what would happen if I did this?” Alastor asked and moved his hands to trace over the glowing wire pattern on the back of his neck.
Quickly Vox shook his head, laughter dying down to frantic giggles as Alastor traced the sensitive space, “Ooohh bad spot?” Alastor taunted and Vox shook his head. “Fuhuhuhuck off you prihihihick!” Vox snapped at him, attempting to dislodge the other’s fingers.
“Are you going to apologize?” Alastor asked him again and Vox shook his head. “I alreheheheady tohohold you Ihi’m nohohohot going tohoho!!” Vox snapped, voice growing nervous as Alastor started trailing his fingers higher. “Are you sure about that my dear?” Alastor asked him, momentarily pausing the playful attack as one of his hands came up to rest on Vox’s hat between his antennae.
“Y-Yes I’m sure what are y-you going to do about it?!” Vox told him and the deer shrugged. “Alright then.” Alastor remarked and Vox braced himself for the sensation at the top of his head but instead Alastor’s hands shot down to drill into Vox’s hips. The unexpected change making the TV demon jerk with a loud squawk, grabbing Alastor’s wrists and laughing loudly.
“AHAhahahahAHAL!!” Vox howled, shaking with laughter as Alastor moved down again to scribble over the backs of Vox’s knees causing the other overlord to kick.
“Give it up Vox~” Alastor taunted but Vox shook his head. “NOHohohohOHO WAHAHAHAY!!” Vox cackled, remaining stubborn and Alastor couldn’t have that.
The deer shrugged again and his grin grew wider before he moved one hand back up to Vox’s hip and the other hand moved back up to the back of Vox’s neck. Vox’s face glitched briefly and the hum of television static entered the air before a megawatt grin spread across the TV demon’s features and he burst out laughing, unable to keep his composure.
“AHAHAHAL!!” Vox screeched, fighting the deer off but of course was unsuccessful. “You know what to do to make this stop Vox~” Alastor taunted him again and he snorted and shook his head, not yet. He wasn’t going to apologize.
At least that’s what he believed before Alastor’s hand moved up to tweak his antenna, okay fun’s over. “OKAHAHAHAY YOU WIHIHIN YOU WIHIHIN I GIHIHIVE!!” Vox cackled and Alastor raised a brow, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that?” Alastor grinned and Vox growled under his breath.
“YOHOU SOHON OF A- FIHIHINE IM SOHOHORRY ABOUT THE DEHEHEVICES NOHOHOW QUHUHUIT YOU AHAHAHASS!!” Vox told him and finally Alastor backed off, “See now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Alastor told him and Vox only flipped him off.
“F-Fuhuhuhuck…yohohohou.” Vox breathed out, regaining his composure through a few face glitches. “Well I do hope you learned a lesson here today but I really must be going, if I see another one of those devices rest assured you will be hearing from me again.” Alastor told him and with a little hand wave, merged and disappeared.
“Sir are you alright??” Vox’s assistant Papermint came rushing through the door, “I heard a lot of noise up here are you okay??” The shark frantically asked him and Vox stared at him for a moment before waving him off, “Y-Yeah I’m fine now go will you?!” Vox snapped at him and the shark scurried back out the door leaving Vox with one thought.
He had a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it.
(So sorry this one is late I’ve been busy but I hope you enjoyed! ^^’)
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June of Doom Day One - "Help Me."
Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Clark Kent/Superman, Alfred Pennyworth, Ra's Al-Ghul (mentioned), Tim Drake/Red Robin, Damian Wayne/Robin, Stephanie Brown/Spoiler, Dick Grayson/Nightwing
Summary: Bruce has always been stubborn, much to the dismay of those around him. It's only when he has no other option that he actually decides to ask for assistance.
Word count: 1603
Tags: Light angst, light gore, injuries, depictions/recountance of injuries and violence, medicine/medical terminology.
Author's Note: In comparison to other angst fics I've written, this one is incredibly tame. Call it the calm before the storm for this challenge lol. Enjoy! As always, feel free to like, comment, and reblog. It helps me out a bunch.
@juneofdoom
Masterlist
The Dark Knight is revered across the world as being untouchable. Unbeatable. The stuff of legend that you tell your kids about so they will behave. “You better be good, or the Batman will come and get you in the night!” It works a treat. There are some people in the world who don’t even think He exists. They believe it’s clever CGI or paid trauma actors or a talented cosplayer (as to what they’re cosplaying is up for debate, for obvious reasons). Like on of those fake movies where people on social media work together in their thousands to gaslight people into thinking they exist when they don’t. It’s not true, of course. Batman is as human as any other person on Earth (except for the large variety of aliens that also call Earth home, but that’s another thing to ignore). He is human. He has skin and lungs and teeth and a tongue; and with such things comes vulnerability. The Dark Knight is not untouchable, and he certainly isn’t unbeatable.
Especially considering the state he is currently in.
It is well-known throughout the hero community that Ra’s Al-Ghul is not a man to be messed with. Whenever his name pops up on mission briefs it is always given to the more capable heroes in the Watchtower. Usually the Big Three: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, and today was no different. When the small-time hero of somewhere unimportant came shuffling over to his office to timidly poke his head through the door, Batman was surprisingly quite understanding.
“That must have been a formatting error. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Ra’s Al-Ghul isn’t a villain for the regular hero. Thank you for bringing this to me, Jerry.”
How on earth he knew the man’s name was between him and the gods. He scampered off and out of Batman’s office before he got the chance to ask, his own fear getting the best of him. How heroic.
Now, while Bruce is clutching his side and using his cape as an impromptu bandage across his torso, he wishes that Clark and Diana were not on their respective breaks.
“The kids are on school break. I’m going to take them to visit Ma and Pa for the weekend. Shout if you need me, Bruce.”
“My sisters in Themyscira have requested my presence for a ceremony of some kind. It is apparently important, so I will be back in about a week.”
He can’t blame them, of course. Superhero work is tough, and everyone is in need of a break now and again. Jon and Kon are important to Clark, as are his own children to Bruce, so he understands. And the surprise birthday party for Diana has been in the works for months. Being the only naturally born Themysciran, it is a ceremony worth celebrating for the Amazons, so Bruce can’t fault them either. He just wishes their departures could have been spaced out a little more so he wouldn’t have to deal with Ra’s alone.
Now, in the middle of god-knows-where in some North African country, he is alone. Crippled by some sort of Lazarus Pit magic that was blasted across his thigh and various sword-related wounds dotted around his torso and legs. He’s been in worse situations, but he’s also certainly been in better as well. With Alfred piloting the Batwing from the safety of the Batcave, he’s got about four hours until it arrives, and he can be brought back to his own domain. Back to safety. He hesitates at the idea of calling for help from Clark. The man has his own priorities, and it’s been an incessantly long time since he’s had time alone with his family without the stress of hero work.
However, some priorities overrule others.
“Clark, help me,” he whispers, voice cracking and hoarse after hours of fighting and sustaining injuries. As he treks away from the arena where Ra’s and Bruce fought (some secluded spot in the middle of a dessert - Bruce would personally guess Ethiopia due to the landmarks surrounding him, but he has been wrong before and wouldn’t be surprised if he was at this moment as well) and with the fact that Ra’s has been defeated in mind and handed into the local authority, he pushes forward. Every step through sand dunes feels as if he’s walking through treacle, and he can’t help but struggle with his own body as he reaches the crest of a particularly large mountain of sand. In the distance, the sparkling lights of a large city twinkle at him with the promise of assistance, but he highly doubts he’ll get there before he collapses to dehydration or his injuries. He’s already exhausted the little water he had in his utility belt and the bandages in it have already been used to patch up wounds of the highest severity. The strange green magic that Ra’s used on him made the material of his trousers stick to his left leg painfully, so he had to cut the cotton-Kevlar material off.
So, there he is: trudging in the middle of some desert in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night - dehydrated, injured, and miserable with his incoming support not available for another several hours and half of his costume in disrepair. He can’t help feeling a little irritable towards his comrades for this, even if he is completely aware that it isn’t their fault. He was the one who deemed it too dangerous for his children to come with him to combat the Demon’s Head and made the incredibly intelligent decision to go alone. Even Alfred had urged him to go with one of his more mature children, but his fear of losing them after what happened to Jason put the rational part of his brain on autopilot in favour of the worried parent in him to disagree with every alternative. He can just hope that either his family or Clark finds him before it’s too late.
That’s the last thought he has before he collapses, face first, into the sand.
—
He’s in and out of consciousness for a long time. When he’s got half a mind to take in his surroundings, Bruce notices that he is travelling. Rapidly. When he blinks, he’s in a vehicle, then lying down on something, then surrounded by darkness. He hears voices too, but they’re often mixed and warped together until he can’t discern whose is whose. Eventually, the soft timbre of Alfred reaches him, followed by the worried voice of his eldest son. It’s then when he realises he’s back in the Batcave and safe, so he closes his eyes again and stays like that for a while; not particularly in the mood for waking up.
When he properly regains consciousness, he’s met with a pounding headache and a sharp ache overwhelming his legs and chest. Bruce opens his eyes and is immediately blinded by the bright LED of a medical light glaring down on him. He squints into it and brings his arm up to cover his eyes with a groan, and the room, which he didn’t realise was occupied by others, suddenly went silent.
“Bruce? You’re awake!” That was the voice of his third son.
“It was about time, Father. How was Grandfather?” That was his youngest.
“Stop pestering him! Let him get his bearings before you overwhelm him with questions.” His eldest daughter.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t overwhelm me with questions at all. At least, not yet,” Bruce grumbles, attempting to sit up without triggering a massive headache and failing miserably. He slumps back on the hospital cot, closing his eyes. He feels a cool and damp fabric being placed on his forehead, realising that Alfred is busy doing his medical ministrations as he always does.
“You gave us quite the scare, Master Bruce. I hope this acts as a lesson to not fight the League of Assassins without correct backup,” the butler states. Bruce sighs, the act causing pain to shoot through his ribcage. Ah, so he broke them.
“I won, didn’t I?” he states, attempting humour. The joke falls flat in the now silent room and the man represses the urge to sigh a second time.
“We all know that’s not the point here, Bruce.” His eldest son, Dick, steps forward and stands next to the cot where his father lies. “You gave Clark quite the scare.”
That’s what gets Bruce to open his eyes.
“He’s here?”
“He’s upstairs in the Manor. He wanted to give you space.”
He can’t suppress the sigh this time and it turns into a wince.
“Damn it. Can you bring him down here? I want to apologise for keeping him from his family.”
“Visiting hours are closed for a few hours,” Alfred states bluntly and shoots a poignant glare behind him at the several others in the room. They all look away, shuffling around awkwardly. “Unfortunately, your stubbornness is apparently hereditary.” He turns to face them all. “Children, Master Bruce is awake. You can come back later when he’s in a better state of mind and body.” As if on cue, Bruce groans in pain after a failed attempt to move his legs into a more comfortable position.
“Right- yeah. Sorry, Alf. We’ll go.” Dick begins to turn away but stops himself halfway to the door. Once the others have left, he gives a meaningful look to his father.
“Stop thinking you have to do everything alone, Bruce. You have friends. Act like it.”
With that, he leaves, leaving the Dark Knight in the care of his butler and his own thoughts.
--
Will be posted on Ao3 later on :)
#june of doom#june of doom day one#dc comics#batfamily#gotham#batman#dc#fanfiction#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#ra's al ghul#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#stephanie brown#bruce wayne#steph brown#angst#ao3 fanfiction#fanfic writing#light angst#light gore#depictions of injuries#mentions of previous violence
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Hamster Interactive Story
Chapter 13. Hair
Prev - Masterlist
Content: Giant/tiny, being handled, dressing/washing, cages, captivity, food mention, healing wounds, pet trope, solitary confinement, ableism, mobility aid being withheld (prosthetic leg), power dynamics, selectively mute whumpee, female cast, dissociation/fear, (let me know if I missed any)
Pov: Soap Scrub
Poll winner: Be cleaned up, talk to hamster, be moved to main room
ART, WRITING, AND POLL UNDER THE CUT!
—
“Are you ready to cooperate?” Ashley’s shrill voice pounds into your head as you wince at the sudden bright lights, even through all of the fluff you’re under. Slowly you dig yourself out of the bedding to face her.
You have no idea how long you were left alone in the cold, dark room, but you’re filthy, sore, and starting to go insane from basically being kept in solitary confinement for who knows how long. You hate to admit that you’re relieved to see another face, even if it's hers. You sigh heavily in defeat, knowing it won’t work, but you try the spiel anyway out of an obligation to stick up for yourself. “Look lady. You have to let me go-“
“No.” Ashley cuts it short with her arms crossed. “Do you want to stay in here for another week alone, or are you ready to cooperate?”
Quivering in anger you speak through your teeth. “Yes. Okay, yes I am.” You couldn’t handle another week alone in the dark like this with nothing to do.
“Wonderful.” She claps her hands gently.
The human is asking what you want to do, and giving you options, but somehow you doubt many of them are really going to be your choice in the end. She’s talking about how it's time to change your bandages, and how she needs to fix you up if you’re going to do model work.
The next thing she does is pick up the cage with you in it, shifting the floor beneath you, and you have to put your good hand against the bars to brace yourself.
Looking down towards the floor does you no favors while the cage sways in Ashley’s arms. You close your eyes and ignore the churning in your stomach, almost lurching backwards when the cage is set down on the kitchen counter.
Now Ashley is going to grab you again, pull on your limbs, threaten you with the weight of her fingers. Your heart beats harder in your chest and your vision tunnels. You can’t take a deep enough breath.
There's nowhere to escape her hand when she opens the cage door, and she grabs you with a gardening glove on so you can’t even bite her or fight back in any way. Fear paralyzes you, and her grip is too tight to try to wiggle away. You completely freeze, and dignity is thrown out the door when you start crying. Dissociation numbs your body and turns your mind into mud. Everything is a distant blur while she handles you.
The bandages are removed, and after a wash, you’re relieved to see your wounds are healing as they’re supposed to. The skin is knitting back together with lumpy scabs that itch along your arm and legs. You watch numbly as she bandages your limbs back up, as if you’re a puppet on strings, or more realistically, a doll that she’s playing with.
“You need a haircut.” The dreaded words leave her lips and the thought of human size scissors snipping around your face makes your blood run cold.
”C-Can I do it myself? Please?” You actually look up at her huge face attempting to make blurry eye contact, blinking away stray tears from earlier.
“How would you do that?“ Ashley scoffs, her blue eyes piercing a glare.
“T-There’s a knife in my bag.”
Ashley laughs. “You want me to give you a knife?“
Your cheeks warm and your mouth starts moving before you process the thought. “I’m the size of your thumb, and have no fucking leg. What do you expect me to do with a sliver of metal?!” The rush of defiance has you breathing heavily, and you brace to be slammed into the floor of the sink.
Ashley certainly looks mad, but she takes a deep breath. “Fine,“ she says.
Before you know it, you’re being granted a pocket sized vanity mirror in the sink with you, and given your knife back, just until you are done with it.Your hands are shaking, and one of them is still hard to move with the bandaged wounds.
You stifle a sob when you see your reflection, but manage to hold it together. You look worse than you imagined. Your skin is clammy, with dark circles under your eyes and dark stubble starting to grow from your chin. Your hair is hideously sticking up all over the place and completely uneven in length.
Gingerly you start cutting away the longer strands in an attempt to even it out. Black chunks of hair fall around you and scatter around the silver floor. The back of your neck is cold with goosebumps and when you’re done, you throw your weapon across the sink for the giant hand to pluck away from you.
Dread eats away from the inside when she pinches the knife away like a crumb, and you force your voice steady. “Can I have my leg back now?” That was the deal, and now was the time to see if she was good on her word.
Ashley agrees, and hovers the doll leg just above you, and when you try to grab it, she pulls it up out of your reach. “Be nice,” she warns when you scowl at her, and lowers it back down. You yank it out of her fingers and hug it protectively. She tsk’s but turns her back to go do something else.
“Mommy has to go to work now so be good while I’m gone, and I’ll set up a photo shoot when I get back.” Ashley isn’t talking to you anymore. She’s holding Hamster and giving her kisses. Your lip curls in disgust, and you use this time to pull your leg on as fast as possible.
The human’s back before you can stand, hovering over you, always flexing her power. She grabs you before you’re ready, causing you to yelp in alarm, and then puts you back into your cage. Dread weighs on you at the thought of being put back into that dark room. Except she doesn’t do that. Instead, she places your cage onto the kitchen counter by Hamster’s.
Ashley’s huge blue eyes peer between the bars at you. “Behave while I'm gone. I’ll know if you try anything, little boy,” She threatens.
Just like that, she’s gone, and probably won't be back until the end of the day.
The room is dead quiet. No TV on today, just a soft humming of electronics, and the sound of a car or two driving by the house.
Hamster’s cage is just across the counter and you stumble past the bedding that Ashley put in yours to see if you can spot the pet from here. To your surprise, Hamster is outside of her cage and standing directly in front of yours, face to face with you. Shocked, you gawk at her for a second before you run your mouth with a snide comment. “Good job not falling off the counter again. You know, since I’m not there to save you this time.” You scowl deeply at her. “What do you want?”
Hamster just stares at you, smiling away.
You guess she’s over being upset that you threatened her before. Maybe she forgot already. Maybe she’s too dumb to hold a grudge.
“Hello?” You wave. “Can you understand me?”
Hamster blinks back into reality, and nods her head while stroking an armful of her orange hair.
“Can you open the door to this cage?” You ask and point over to the door. The girl's eyes go wide, looking at the padlock on the bars, and she shakes her head no.
You bite your tongue, screaming internally and go closer to her. Forcing yourself to stay calm. You can’t afford to scare her off. “Maybe you can find a tool for me?”
Hamster shakes her head again and frustration snaps an angry growl out of you. God, she’s actually useless.
”What can you do?” You spit out. “You know you owe me! I saved your life back then.”
Hamster's eyebrows crease in a small frown and she walks off for a while, coming back with a sliced grape. She offers it to you.
With a deep sigh you take it and sit in the fluff. “Thanks,” you mumble. It sure beats dried pellets, and the juicy flavour is the best experience you’ve had all week.
Another several minutes go by without a word and the awkward silence is killing you. Is this really going to be how the rest of the day turns out?
Maybe it would be best to gain her trust after all… Get on her good side so she’ll be more inclined to help you. Pretend to be her friend, ask her questions, tell her a little about yourself. Anything to pass the time, really.
—
I'm trying something different for these poll options this chapter. Feel free to send me questions via comments or ask box that you want soap to ask or talk about and I’ll include some into the next chapter. If you don’t have anything to ask, you can vote on whatever you want to see happen regardless!!
—
Thank you @alittlewhump for proof reading <3
Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @coppercoyoti @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @whump-in-the-closet @shadowsnowdapple @whumpy-wyrms @re-whump @cypresscove @whumpninja @highlighterwhump @taters169 @justagiantpotato
#cyoa whump#giant tiny#tiny whump#pet whump#interactive whump#whump art#g/t art#disabled whumpee#lady whumper#whump#whump writing#hamster interactive story#g/t writing#breezys post#oc hamster#oc ashley#oc soap scrub#polls
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I’ve binge read under my skin and the plot is absolutely amazing! I loved the chapters with faux charming Vox and jealous Alastor. it was fun watching the whole vox situation unfold because it made Alastor dive deeper into his feelings. That being said, I’m gonna be completely honest Vox wasn’t exactly what I would consider serious competition for Alastor. Let me clarify that in no way does the story need a love triangle. The situation with Vox was great because it brought something between Charlie and Alastor and they overcame the obstacle and have breached a new footing in their friendship/situationship. But at the same time, it wasn’t really a test because Charlie somewhat had her guard up with Vox so he was somewhat more of a minor misstep in their journey towards coming together. It got me wondering on what or rather who would be a major obstacle for these two and immediately my mind went to Vaggie because is there really any one in hell that could give Charlie a better option for a relationship that wouldn’t use her as a way to get under Alastor’s skin or even Lucifer’s? Not to mention that she has to be on her guard otherwise someone could try to use her for her status as the princess of hell. But you already tied up Vaggie’s relationship with Charlie and quite nicely I might add. (having her fall for Emily was believable and understandable because Emily has a similar mindset to Charlie.) That didn’t stop me from thinking about heaven. They’ve been awfully quiet in the story so far, especially considering the events of season one where Charlie led an assault on the exorcists and the whole situation with a sinner that killed Adam. Sure it’s proved that sinners can be redeemed but at the same time it’s proved that Charlie poses a threat. She challenged and changed the order of things. Something from what we know both her parents tried to do. I can’t imagine that heaven or rather all of heaven is going to take the fact that Lucifer‘s daughter is doing what he failed to do which is challenge the world order. And we’ve seen in season one that heaven is perfectly capable of scheming when they kept the extermination under wraps from all of heaven, with only the select few knowing. I can see heaven sending someone down to keep an eye on the princess. Interestingly enough angels are secretive and I would love to see some more of jealous Alastor squirming because Vox while a nuisance was an opponent he knew well, and he knew how to warn Charlie to be cautious. I guess I’m wondering how he would do against someone who he doesn’t know. And Charlie is enamored with heaven, probably because she’s half angel. I’m wondering how she would handle be charmed by an angel who isn’t what they seem, and the reality not all angels have pure intentions
Thanks so much! ❤️ You nailed it regarding the Vox arc. It was never intended as a legitimate love triangle. Alastor and Vox certainly saw it that way, but Charlie didn’t. She had zero romantic interest in Vox. He did charm her a bit in a similar way that Alastor does, but she quickly clocked this as an imitation. Like she said a few chapters back, she knew he was sleazy and was hoping he’d prove to her otherwise.
It’s exactly like you said, Vox was just an obstacle for them to overcome together. As a result, their relationship grew stronger and they both obtained a better understanding of their feelings for each other. And the irony of Vox unintentionally bringing them closer together? That’s my favorite part. 😆 He’d be so pissed if he found that out.
Heaven has been very quiet, haven’t they? 👀 Guess they’re busy sorting through all the paperwork they’ve been asking Charlie to complete. Their suspicious silence will be addressed soon.
I love your idea about them facing a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” threat from heaven. I obviously don’t want to spoil any upcoming story arcs, but I will say that I’ve had some similar trains of thought. Vox won’t be the only threat to their relationship. 😈
Thanks for your thoughtful message! I greatly enjoy the speculation.
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Post Game 5 press session with Taylor Heise
You can find the entire interview here! Be sure to go show them some love/views/likes/nice comments/etc for the work they put in making these so accessible for everyone.
I'm putting basically the whole thing in, or I guess I'm putting in all the questions at least. I did cut out all the bits where they were having issues with their mic setup and their occasional banter while doing so. But if you want to see and hear such exciting things as people fiddling with levels while Taylor reties her hair back and people swapping mics around and doing checks, you'll definitely want to check out the full thing.
Transcription under the break.
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[Taylor approaches the table and begins to sit down]
TAYLOR HEISE:
I’ve never done this with my skates still on.
REPORTER:
It’s a season of firsts.
TAYLOR:
It really is. I would agree.
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REPORTER:
Taylor Heise, PWHL champion, Walter Cup champion, Ilana Kloss MVP award winner. Just put into words us.
TAYLOR HEISE:
It’s hard to. You know, I’ve been honored to be part of such an unreal organization that has had our backs since day one. It’s awesome to know that this is the only pro that I know. Coming out of college and making so many strides with, whether that be the league coming together as one right after I came out of college, not quite sure where I was gonna go. But this league came a part of an amazing time and people like Kendall Coyne, Hilary Knight, anyone that’s put together hours and hours and hours to have this be a thing. And I’m very honored to be a part of it. Because like I said, it’s the only thing I know. And I haven’t had to go through the grunge of, you know, the ice times in the morning and not getting to games, not having a place to play and practice. So I’m honored to be a part of this great group.
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REPORTER:
Taylor, you’re the one voted MVP, but certainly a lot of big efforts from teammates tonight. Nicole Hensley, captain Kendall Coyne Schofield. Can we just get a few words about those around you and just how the entire team came together?
TAYLOR:
Yeah, I’ve been ecstatic to play with Kendall and [Michela] Cava here the past few games.* Not to say that they’re the only ones that have done things, because we have had so many amazing performances from every single line on our team. And whether that comes from Liz [Scheper]’s first goal that Syd [Brodt] brought, having two really big- a big point and a big assist, big goal the other day. Nic [Hensley] playing a hell of a game- but you gotta look at Maddie Rooney too. She’s one of the ones that got us through to this point too. So both of them. And then we got Kendall, who’s not only the mom of the league, but the mom of the team. She’s someone who does everything and anything and somehow still has a child. Not really sure how she can do it all, but she does and she manages it quite well. And then Cava. I don’t know if everyone knows this but she’s a four-time champion. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back. She’s had MVPs at almost every single level. She coulda had this right now too. It’s our to share. She’s a special player. She’s someone I’ve been very honored to have played with. There’s so many amazing people on our team that deserve so many props. I couldn’t sit here and name everyone on our team, but we’re excited to go and have some fun here.
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REPORTER:
Taylor, first of all, congratulations.
TAYLOR HEISE:
Thank you.
R:
Second thing, after Game 4, you come out of that, you think you’ve won.
TH:
Yeah.
R:
How do you mentally reset, come back into this one ready to play, ready to go, and then pull off the victory Away in front of a raucous crowd here at Tsongas Center?
TH:
Yeah. I think they robbed us in Game 4 and we all felt that very, very much so. I think to have the feeling of being a champion taken from you is one of the worst things ever. I can’t say that that’s happened to me before, other than last time.
So I think we came into today knowing if we weathered the storm the first 10 minutes we were going to come out on top as long as we put the first goal in. You know, that’s what we did. We weathered the storm and we put the first goal in. So you look at both those things and I think we had a full team effort for today. We allowed, I think, 3 shots in an amount of 20 minutes at one point? It’s hard to win a game when you get 3 shots on net like that. We’re excited to continue this with this group, but it’s just a special moment and I’m excited to share it with the girls.
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REPORTER:
Whirlwind year for you, Taylor. For you, to put it into perspective, Billie Jean King calling your name first overall pick, first MVP award winner.
TAYLOR:
Yeah, you know, I’m not someone to make anything about me. I’ve never been like that. But you know, it’s a special moment. It’s something I’m going to chalk up to- you know, this [taps the MVP trophy] will sit, probably, in my basement somewhere. But I’m more excited about the group. I’m more excited that I get to live this life with this group of girls who has cared about me since day one. And I’ve known that they’ve had confidence in me and everything I can do. I think recently they’ve really stepped up and put their hand on my back, and made sure I knew that I was loved and cared for no matter what happens: points on the board or wins or losses.
But I just feel very loved and cared for by this group. And that’s something that we’re really happy and special to be a part of. And every team has had great years so far, but I think for us we just came out and gave everything we had at the end of the year. That’s playoff hockey. Being the fourth seed and coming in and not knowing where we were going to be at, is special.
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end of interview
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