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mimsynims · 6 months

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Fool For Love

part 7

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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

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Author’s Note: I wish I could say that this part wrap things up, but I need at least one (probably two) more before these two get their shit together.

More act 2 spoilers this time!

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Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

And you’re not handling it very well.

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You’re at the edge of the camp when a hand curls around your arm, forcing you to stop and turn around.

Astarion.

And he looks angry.

“Were you spying on me?”

Thrown by the accusation, you grapple for words. “What? I– Of course not, why would I–”

“Just because Karlach chose Dammon over you, you don’t get to spoil my fun.”

The strange remark about Karlach is quickly overshadowed by his downright ludicrous allegation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

Astarion carries on as if he didn’t hear you. “You were the one to break things off with me, not the other way around, so you don’t have any say in what or who I do.”

The audacity. “And I wasn’t trying to!”

“Sure, darling, sure.” Sarcasm drips off his words. “That’s why you followed me to the inn.”

“I–” You break off, because, in a way, he’s not wrong. “My intention was to have a drink.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t have run off when I caught you watching me. Watching us.”

“Astarion, I don’t give a rat’s arse who you sleep with.” The lie slips off your tongue before you can stop it — the alternative is telling him the truth, and right now, that’s not an option. You feel too vulnerable, and honestly, you doubt he’d believe you at this point. “I only left to not make it awkward.”

“Really?” His smile feels vicious, mocking. “Perhaps I should go back to the inn, then.”

The urge to ask him not to is so strong you remain silent until you have yourself under control. “You do that,” you finally press out, “as I said, I don’t care what you do.”

Astarion takes a step closer, searching your face. Your heart is pounding as he scrutinises you; it’s as if he’s determining the validity of your claim. Will he see right through you? A part of you hopes that he will, and as the seconds go by, your determination wavers. Should you risk it?

“Astarion…”

“Fine.” His face hardens. “Have it your way. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh fearless leader.”

With a slight bow, one that feels tinged with scorn rather than respect, he turns around and leaves the same way he came. Towards the inn.

Towards…

“You’re such an idiot, Tav.” You drag a hand across your face. This is the second time he walks away from you, and it hurts just as much as the first time it happened. “Such a fucking idiot.”

If you were tired before, you’re exhausted now.

Perhaps it’s time you take a hint and focus on more important things, like getting these goddamn tadpoles out of your heads.

And maybe by then, things will have worked themselves out. Somehow.

It’s a good thing you’re not expected to be up early the next morning because when dawn comes around, you’ve barely slept at all. Too many thoughts, too many feelings.

You can hear some of the others stir, but you ignore it. And perhaps the comforting background noise of your friends talking and preparing breakfast is exactly what you need to finally relax, because the next thing you know, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the only ones left in camp are Gale and Shadowheart. And Withers, of course.

“Oooh, look who’s finally awake! Late night for you as well, huh?”

Gale is far too cheery for your taste, but you bite back the snarky comeback because it’s not his fault you feel like shit.

“No, just…”

Shadowheart offers you a sympathetic smile. “Nightmares?”

It’s a convenient lie, so you simply nod, because the truth is far too complicated.

“Where are the rest?” You don’t really want to know, but it’s something you should be asking. So you do.

“Around, somewhere. Haven’t seen Astarion or Karlach, though.”

“Ah. I think I know why.”

So he stayed the night somewhere else, too.

Once you’ve eaten something, you and the rest go back to the inn. Finding Karlach sitting with Dammon is no surprise, but Astarion is nowhere to be found.

No matter, you tell yourself. There are more important things to worry about.

There are a lot of familiar faces to talk to, keeping you busy. So busy you don’t even notice when Astarion joins the rest of you — suddenly he’s just there, in the back. A quick glance lets you know that he looks about as worn-out as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he stayed up all night with that person you saw.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tell yourself to focus on the matter at hand, which is listening to Alfira. It seems it’s time for another rescue mission because of course it is. You’re tired and the increasing burden tests your already frayed patience, but Alfira isn’t the one to blame, so you rein yourself in.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice tells you to take a break, but you ignore it.

You visit Isobel last — and it’s lucky that you do. The attack comes from out of nowhere, catching you all off guard. You don’t want to think what would have happened if Isobel was alone.

It’s a tough battle — made even more difficult by the fact that you’re not on top of your game. You’re struggling, and it’s no one’s fault but your own.

You’re fortunate that you and your friends work like a well-oiled machine by now — because you will all be doomed if you fail. It warms your heart to realise that even in the midst of your falling out with Astarion, he doesn’t hesitate to fight back-to-back with you when it comes down to it.

In the end, your side comes out winning, but not without losses. You yourself have several cuts and bruises that will need tending to, but you ignore them in favour of checking on everyone yourself. You may not be the leader of people currently residing at the inn, but your neglect makes you feel responsible either way.

“Tav.”

“What is it, Astarion?”

“Stop it with this good samaritan nonsense and go see a healer, would you? You’re leaving a trail of blood all over this place, and I think they have enough problems as it is without having to clean up after you.”

His usual snark is both annoying and comforting. “Maybe once I’m done.”

“You are done. Now, Tav.”

You have intentionally been refusing to look at him until now, but his tone has you shifting your head to glare at him. It seems someone has patched him up already, as you can see bandages on his lower arm and hand. “Astarion, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I will most definitely tell you what to do when you’re being a stubborn idiot. These people already have a leader.”

You know he’s right, but guilt is eating you up and this is the only way to placate the monster of shame inside you. “That doesn’t matter–”

“Tav.” Halsin and Karlach join Astarion’s side, both giving you a worried look. “That’s enough.”

“Right. Fine.” You may have won the fight, but you feel like a failure, knowing how many lives were lost tonight. “I’ll go and find Shadowheart.”

You have no idea what she sees on your face, but it’s enough to have her hold back any remarks and tend to your many wounds in silence. As you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush, you start to feel weary and disappointed with yourself.

“You should eat something. Rest.”

“Later.” You know she’s right, but you’re too restless still to heed her advice. “I need to, I don’t know.” Rising, you make a vague motion with your hand. “Walk things off first.” What you really need is to fall into someone’s arms and cry, but that’s not on the table.

“At least bring an apple or something,” she concedes. “And make sure to return before nightfall, or I’ll send Astarion after you.”

You open your mouth to object but close it again. That’s the perfect threat right now and you hate that she knows it. “Fine.”

“We just want you to be careful, Tav. We all need each other, you know.”

You sigh. “I know. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

“Good. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it, though? You catch Astarion watching you as you leave. He better not follow you.

For everyone’s sake, you need to be alone. Now, and until this whole tadpole situation has been dealt with.

No more distractions.

~~~

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #fic wip

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toruvi · 7 months

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Umm this is the result of seeing jjk manga spoilers for ch 234 so maybe don't read if you don't want to know what happens lol

anyways this is just actor au fluff for gojo to cope bc canon doesn't exist to me

“Have you seen this?” You shove your phone in front of Satoru’s face, he blinks several times to adjust to the light of your screen.

“Hmmmmm? What’s this? Fanart?”

“It’s the manga, Toru. That’s your character.”

“Oh, shit! They actually did it?!” He laughs, tugging the phone out of your hand to scroll through the feed. “Wow. Think I’ll finally get the fangirls off me when this happens in the show?”

You snort, falling down right into the spot on the couch next to him. His legs take up most of the space, so you sit criss-cross, your knee pushing against his thigh. On instinct, Satoru’s arm drapes over the back of the couch and taps your shoulder playfully. You don’t turn, much too used to his antics over the years. Luckily, Suguru’s warned you of that trick years ago.

“Absolutely not. If anything, it’ll get worse.”

“Oh well~ Guess you gotta deal with more competition then, huh?” He taps your shoulder again, raising an eyebrow with his taunting question. You smack his arm gently and he pouts.

“Don’t even joke about that!” You say as you lean lightly on the bicep behind you. “But seriously, almost cried just reading that crap. I know it’s not you–”

His head tilts, those deep blue eyes softening in their gaze. “It’s not real, either—”

“I know, but sometimes… You think of the what-ifs, you know?”

Satoru huffs. “Why think of the what-ifs? I’m right in front of your pretty face, you don’t need to think about that.”

He scoots himself closer to you, toying with the tag that’s poking out of the back of your shirt. As you inhale and sigh, his faint scent whiffs around you. It’s him, he’s there. Sure, it’s a silly think to think about. But sometimes, your brain likes to wander into hypotheticals. What if that was all real? If he did end up…no. Satoru’s right, it’s not something you should even entertain.

“Hey, hey,” he chides gently, giving a small peck on your cheek to bring you back. “Pay attention to me, before I gotta go to work.”

You pinch his cheek and give it a pat. “No, how dare you die.”

“It’s not even me in there!”

“Well technically you’re the guy in the show–so!!”

“Pfft, you’re being so dramatic. That crap won’t even happen in the show for what–years? And just don’t watch that when it comes.” Satoru’s semi-reassurances mildly help. Though, what’s more convincing is how he’s slowly pulling you into his lap more and more.

“You’re right, your acting sucks anyway.”

He makes a noise in mock offense, arms wrapping around you completely, “Take that back, right now!”

“No!”

You land right on his thighs as he yanks you the rest of the way. “If you don’t take it back and tell me I’m the greatest actor in the world…”

His fingers land on your sides, tracing up and down the curve of your hips. You shiver as they briefly tease under the hem of your shirt. He leans up to kiss the other cheek, then your jaw.

Your eyes close, biting back a smile to refuse acknowledging how much you enjoy his loving touches–even if they tend to start riling you up at a certain point.

But before you stray too far, he murmurs in your ear, “...I’m gonna start tickling you ‘til you do.”

And before you can react to this “threat”, he’s ghosting your fingers along your skin and coaxing the giggles out from your chest. And though you try to fight him off, he’s just too damn strong!

“Toru–! Please! Haha…! I-I can’t…!!”

“I can’t, I can’t! Tooooru, spare me~” He mocks you, a shit-eating grin spread across his slightly glossy lips. “Tell me I’m the greatest actor in the world and I’ll let you go.”

“Fuck you–hahah please!!” You try to wriggle away and tumble off his lap, but it only results in you landing on your back and him crawling ontop of you. You beg, unable to abide by his request through the attacks of his dextrous hands. And he’s just smiling, chuckling with an amused glint in his eyes, hardly shadowed by the white strands of his hair.

If you weren’t struggling so much with the tickling, you’d have half a mind to admire him a bit more like this.

When he notices the tears in your eyes, he offers the smallest amount of mercy. You try to take advantage, grabbing at his wrists weakly to try to push them away. Unfortunately, he’s managed to pin your hands down at the sides of your head instead.

“Tell me I’m the best, just say it and you’ll be spared,” he smirks, satisfied by this position. You admit defeat, lest he end up with another onslaught of tickling that you don’t think you can handle.

“Fine. You’re the best.”

“That’s better,” he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips.

You speak up again as his mouth is inches from yours, “The best at being annoying.”

Satoru laughs–a low, gentle chuckle that stirs something deep in your chest. It’s not the obnoxious ones like he does when he’s messing around with Suguru, or teasing Utahime. Or the ones you hear in his TV show, it feels real, genuine. Cause with you, he’s not acting. You return his smile as he kisses you again.

“Good enough for me,” he murmurs against your lips.

#hi yell at me if this needs a readmore idk #gjhfdgjkdg #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk manga spoilers #dont @ me if he's ooc please i dont have as muc h experience writing him compared to levi lol #drabbles

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u3pxx · 2 months

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disco meshi au rambling below major spoilers for both disco elysium and dungeon meshi (only up until chapter 62)

BARKS anyways i was suddenly hit with a pang of "extremely normal about harry du bois" and thinking about the idea of harry being a former dungeon lord in this au

i'll copy-paste a bit of the rambling i did in tags (and clean them up) to catch you all up to speed

- ok so maybe harry + kim won't go dungeoneering on their own but maybe they were sent to investigate dangerous dungeons and sent to make sure those aren't threats anymore (kind of like the canaries) - maybe harry had become a dungeon master at some point and the part of him that was eaten was his memories. - GODD dungeon master harry is kind of giving me grief though. can you imagine what he would count as his perfect life. can you imagine when the illusion starts to fall apart and he's accepted that he will be consumed? but he doesn't get to die. that's his curse.

i have like several ideas on what things would be fun to explore in the au and one of those ideas is harry and kim being assigned to maintain the safety of a dungeon which just so happens to be: the dungeon that harry used to control.

(note: i do not remember that well what happens to a dungeon after the dungeon lord has been dethroned. iirc it does still stay there so OOF. imagine traversing to a dungeon and seeing things that should be familiar to you but you just cannot remember anything. it hurts when you look at it, but what did it mean to you?)

i just think that harry after being left, now an even more broken man than he ever was, being granted this false escape from his situation in the form of his deal with this demon. the kingdom he's built inside the dungeon, what if it was just a home. what if it was just a home, like any other home on the surface. surrounded by trees bearing apricots. what if it was a humble home for him, his wife, and their unborn children. what then huh orz

and then i thought: "hey now, didn't dolores have a line that LITERALLY had the words, "i will eat your mind"?" and then --

Dolores Dei: "... it was *a hundred million years ago*. I was someone else then -- filled to the brim with love for you. Hanging on your every word. Oh Harry, you were the *coolest*... But I am no longer that person. This..." She points to herself. "... has taken her place. It will devour you. Harry -- I will eat your mind."

COME ON. MAN. DO I EVEN HAVE TO DO ANYTHING HERE ORZ

thinking about. the demon manifesting as this monstrous amalgamation. if i think of a better animal than lamb that symbolizes what dolores dei represents then i'll change it but MAN.

anyways. thinking about this comic ryoko kui wrote and thinking about the dungeon as a metaphor for addiction. thinking about a demon that devours and feasts on a person's desires until there is nothing left of that person and thinking about the pale that slowly grows and expands and turns everything into nothing at all. MY BRAIN ISN'T WORKING ANYMORE SO I'M SORRY IF I CAN'T EXPRESS MY THOUGHTS MORE COHERENTLY. HELLO CAN ANYONE HEAR ME DFGDHJK

also, i think dora is an elf from a wealthy family in the au. just another layer of arghhhhgghgh to add above everything else. another reason why her family doesn't like harry is because he's from a short-lived race.

#den off the shits DFGHDJ #if u dont care abt spoilers or have no interest at all in this. i also drew a very neat drawing of a demon if u want under read more pfttt #disco meshi au #sunnysidedisco #sunnysiderambles #cw gore #tw gore #starry don't look

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visionsofmagic · 11 months

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make you regret. | miguel o’hara x spiderwoman!reader

[ao3 | masterlist | part 2]

summary: “keep talking shit and i’ll show you the other things i can do with that mouth of yours.” & “aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied.”

part 1 • wc: 2.4k • warnings&tags: nsfw, minors dni!, fluff (so little), chocking, oral > m!receiving, kissing, pet names, explicit language, angry and mad!miguel, SPOILER FOR THE MOVIE, biting, licking, squeezing, dominant!miguel, mentions of miguel’s features such as his teeth, brat!reader, no use of y/n, growling, moaning, getting used, roughness, harshness, and more in the story. enjoy! • couldn’t resist to write about him since I saw him in every app I use and well, I have a thing for him like the rest of you, so, hoping you will like this one. part 2 will come soon! [credits for the prompts]

miguel was angry. you knew it. the moment you entered his personal room to give him a piece of information about the spot and miles morales, a spiderman from earth-1610 dimension, both are anomalies, and miguel needs to stop them before all things crash into each other. he thinks he has to do it - to keep everything in line, in order to prevent any unexpected event happen in a non-canon way.

however, you don’t agree with him, not after you and gwen talked about miles, seeing how she believes in him - how she has a soft spot for him. you know she tries to save miles, nothing wanting him to get hurt. you see your own reflection in her eyes. she cares for miles and you care for miguel but still, you believe he isn’t right completely, no, you believe there is another way to make everything right without hurting anybody.

so, he is mad at you and you know it from the way he looks at the door, then when sees you, he rolls his eyes, turns to the window, and looks outside.

“what is it?” he asks, clearly wanting you to leave soon because, well, you know how he acts when he is mad like this - nothing soft, just roughness that he chooses to show within his body language by fucking you hard and well, you are in a state in which you want him to devour you because you need it too, so, you tease him.

“what a beautiful greeting you have there pretty boy.”

“don’t call me that.” he nearly growls in annoyance.

chuckling, you get what you want; a miguel on edge, ready to make you regret speaking to him like that. “oh, you liked it yesterday, though, when you were -“ pointing to your thighs after sitting on his big bed. “between my thighs.”

only the memory of it made your stomach twist in pleasure and anticipation. he looked so pretty with his cute and teary eyes, looking up to see your face overflowing with the pleasure he was giving to you. your mind goes from his presence to last night and your thighs press into each other to feel something – but you stop when you hear his voice so closely than before. looking up, you see him right in front of you, his tight suit is on like yours, but you believe his suit is the best of you all – probably because of how his body looks thanks to it. his arms folded on his well-built chest, making him look bigger than before. his one eyebrow raised as he talks, “you have guts to come here after you tell me I am doing wrong in front of every fucking else and keep talking about last night?” he is more furious than he looks, you realize and well, it doesn’t help at all, especially when you feel the excitement. luckily, you are his ally, maybe more than that as you hope, not his enemy.

“yeah, I kinda do,” you say with a smirk on your face, being a brat, totally. “the expression on your face at that moment was surely worth seeing! I should take a photo of it only to put it on my wall and see –“

“huh,” he interrupts you, realizing what you’re trying to do and it makes him calmer now but you know he will make you going to pay, and when he says, “you sure have bravery today, not that I complain,” he smirks, holding your chin with his two fingers, making your head raise up as he kneels a little closer, “keep talking shit and I’ll show you the other things I can do with that mouth of yours, pretty girl.”

the air in your lungs decreases each second as your nose can’t find a source of air to breathe because of his words that made you freeze in your place, looking up at his determined face – he is about to make you regret.

“m – miguel – I.” you try to say when you see his eyes getting darker with each passing time and his fingers play with your parted lips.

“shh, keep it,” his fingers travel to your hair, playing with it softly, “you will have all night to say you’re sorry – that you didn’t mean to get me so angry, right, my pretty girl?”

gulping in both excitement and fear, you let him hold you by your neck, kneeling down to your level, pulling you closer, and beginning to kiss you passionately – reliving a lust through his lips mixed with madness on it as well which can be felt clearly since his hold on your neck become unsteady, making your hands grip the sheets of his bed.

moaning into the moan, you realize your legs begin to shake due to the weakness you begin to have – only because of knowing what will come next, still excited as hell for it to come sooner but you can’t say it aloud, not when he only acts to give you pleasure full of pain. “miguel! I – fuck –“ you moan when he bites your bottom lip, his teeth begin to appear slowly, alerting you that the night will not be easy.

“yes, like that, take everything I give to you while just moaning like a dumb for me,” he chuckles, that dark side of him taking some control of his soft side. fear and passion can be felt at the same time by you. “I bet you wanted it even before coming in here, didn’t you?” he asks, not seeking any answer to his questions – he just loves to talk in order to make you weaker each moment before him. “thought about it, planned it, wanted to make me wanna use that mouth of yours with the way I like most.”

he was right – he knew you more than you knew yourself and when words left his mouth, you came to the conclusion that you did it all on purpose all along the moment he looked at you with an angry expression and left you in there and still, letting you go after him no matter how he was angry with you. the bond you have is a complex one, both you and he knew it; him being what you need fully and you being his blood – the only taste he finds amusing to have.

“then, I will make your dreams come true,” you look at him with hope but his smirk only grows wider and darker, “In my own way, of course.”

oh, shit – you thought, he was going to do it roughly.

taking a little back, he looks down at your body, making you close your thighs together but he stops you, putting his legs between your thighs, opening them wider as you go back a little, palms behind you – on the surface of the bed, head raising up. “wider.” he commands, the voice turns into something that gives chills down to your spine as you open your legs wider – wide open that he can look at right into thighs, watching how the suit cling to your body fully, leaving lots of specific parts of your body visible to his eyes – another thing you did on purpose before arriving into his room.

“good – “ he says, “good girl.” so, he begins to use pet names now, well, it is a sign that these are the times he still acts soft before turning into a beast.

“miguel,” you try to say before his hands found your breasts over your suit, gripping them with his big hands. you can’t feel the warmness of his hands though and it only makes you want more, to feel him closely, not over your suit and not when his gloves are still on, “please. let me – let me take this off.” you point to the suit, hoping he will let you before it continues to give you half pleasure and half annoyance.

“huh,” he chuckles, playing with your hardened nipples, squeezing them not so gently. “did you believe I would be – nice enough to let you get pleasure so easily like that? oh, how delicate of you,” he kisses you again, biting it again. you sure he will leave a few red marks on there. “to think that I will be soft tonight.”

he then goes back, standing with his all glory, taking his hands back to put them on the lower part of the suit, and before your mind can make a comprehension of his actions, he opens his zipper, freeing his half-hardened thick and long cock right into your shocked face. saliva begins to appear on your half-open mouth when you see it. your hand makes an attempt to hold his cock but he is faster, gripping you from the wrist, tightly. you look at his face, “not hands. mouth.” he is not smirking or teasing no more, he just stands there, waiting for you to use your mouth.

“c’mon, open it,” he orders, and you listen to him without wasting any time, opening it widely enough but still, he is bigger than you can take. however, it isn’t like he used your mouth before – gently of course, but now, it doesn’t seem so gentle. “yeah, like that. a cock dumb – I will make you a cock dumb.”

you already are – just for him. however, you can’t tell it when he gives a few strokes to his cock, making it hardened and put it right into your open mouth in an instant, making you choke on his cock.

“m- mi – guel!” your voice is blurry as you close your eyes when he makes you take it all as much as you can.

“can’t speak freely when you have my cock in your wet mouth, huh?” he smirks again, taking his cock back, leaving so much salvia on your mouth that even a few of them connects your mouth with his cock, dripping into your suit from there and you only can cough in pain. pain – it is what you get a minute ago but still, you want to take it again. so, you look up at miguel’s face – satisfied expression on.

“again,” you say, confident of yourself. “I want it.” then, you open your mouth wider than before, leaning closer to his cock enough that its tip touches your lips from time to time as he strokes his length.

he chuckles, a little surprised by your words. “you are already a cock dumb for me, don’t you? fuck – I want to ruin you without even making you suffer. but, it should wait,” he puts his hand on your cheek, caressing it and then, moving to your back hair, pulling it roughly, earning a low growl from you which he enjoys – always. “I need to fill up that mouth of yours first fully.”

he nods to you and you know what you should do. firstly, you let your tongue slide on his cock from tip to the end, even giving a few licks on his heavy balls, making him growl – coming like melodies into your ears that you keep licking more and finally, you take half of it, trying to get used to it but miguel has other plans with you – rough and harsh ones; he holds your hair, pushing you forward. his cock touches the back of your mouth and you literally begin to cry in pain, choke on his cock, gasping, you try to take breaths but it is so hot – he is so hot.

salvias appear in your mouth, dripping from your lips onto his cock, making you move easier than before and you know he will not stop until he cums, so, you let him have his way with you; holding you from the hair, pushing your head forward and backward rapidly – roughly, moaning as he looks down at your pathetic face, his cock disappearing inside your wet eager mouth, earning beautiful sounds from you too.

holding his thick thighs, you try to find a source to stay still, not to fall into the ground because of the impact of him – fucking your mouth without thinking about the air you need, the pain you get, blurry vision because of tears running from your half-closed eyes to your cheeks, finally finding their places on his cock.

“m – mi –!” words can’t go out of your mouth which is getting used by miguel.

his gloomy eyes found yours, and the sight he sees makes him go deeper, want to remind you that silly actions and talks mean no good for you, not when you use them against his, even if they only have a purpose to be in a state like this, but apparently, you didn’t wait for him to be this rough. he didn’t too. nevertheless, he is having one of the best moments of his life.

“aw, it hurts? too bad. you’re gonna keep taking it until I’m satisfied,” he says, closing his eyes again as he throws his head back, feeling your warm mouth and lips around his cock. your nails scratching his thighs. “you gonna make me cum hard.”

and you do. it doesn’t take him any longer when you begin to moan in pleasure rather than pain, sending radiations to his cock, hands hug to his wrists, and you literally bounce on his cock. his hands hold you from the cheeks.

moaning, leaving a few growls, he says, “fuck, fuck – so good, so fucking good – !” and he cums into your mouth.

he stays still for a moment before looking down, seeing you look at him too. his one hand leaves your cheek while the other stays to caress it. he slowly takes his cock back from your mouth, letting all his semen stay in there too. when he takes off, you close your mouth, gulping a few times in order to leave no semen to go wasted, not after he gives you all.

breathtaking voices come from both of you. hotness spreading through your veins, keeping you warm. he says, “open your mouth.” you do, opening it. he nods in a satisfied manner.

your chest raises up and down while you are taking deep and rapid breaths to calm yourself down and miguel’s fingers find your eyes, cleaning tears away, getting softer.

“you look so pretty now,” he says, kissing your forehead, “but you will look prettier when you have my cock buried deep inside your walls doll.” he gives you a smirk and you realize it is not over – you're not even close to it.

“still wanna make me regret my words?” you ask, smiling, knowing damn well this is going much better than you think.

“no, not at all,” he shrugs, “I just want to put you in a position that you forget what you were having regret for.”

to be continued.

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 7 months

Text

Francis Drake Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Blank, ageless, and suspicious blogs will be blocked.

Minor spoilers ahead. Not proofread.

The mansion greeted the morning without Drake.

(Drake is not yet home.)

I collected the letters in the mailbox and stared at the closed gate.

I tried checking his room to see if he had come back, but his room was still empty this morning.

(Everyone said he might be out partying.)

Thinking about it that way, a different kind of unease started to well up inside me.

Mitsuki: "Instead of worrying like this, I should go out and look for Drake again."

Just as I was considering that一

Drake: "I'm home, little fawn."

Mitsuki: "Drake!?"

The source of my worry returned with a carefree smile.

Mitsuki: "Welcome back. But more importantly, where were you yesterday!? You didn't come back the whole night."

Drake: "I was drinking at the tavern and chatting with other customers. I ended up getting drunk and passed out until morning."

I was relieved to hear that he wasn't involved in anything dangerous.

Mitsuki: "I was worried when you didn't come back."

Drake: "Ah, yeah, sorry for making you worry."

Drake tried to comfort me by gently stroking my head, and for some reason, he stared at me intently.

Mitsuki: "W-What is it?"

Drake: "Well, I was talking about you last night."

Mitsuki: "Me? What kind of talk?"

I was curious about what they were saying about me at their drinking session.

Drake: "Well, I was talking about how I can't take my eyes off you."

(Huh?)

Drake: "I'll keep the details a secret."

Drake: "Anyway, I'm going to take a bath."

Leaving behind those intriguing words, he entered the mansion.

(What does he mean by "can't take my eyes off me?")

Despite feeling relieved that he returned, I now find myself feeling anxious.

One day, amidst the lively days, my heart began to change little by little.

Mitsuki: "Thank you for tagging along, Drake, and for carrying most of the bags."

Drake: "Don't worry about it."

Drake grinned at me as he accompanied me to town.

Drake: "If you want, I can carry you in my arms."

Mitsuki: "Well, since you're offering, why not? It'd be easier for me, and I'm sure you can do it if you're insisting so much."

Drake: "Alright then, let's do it."

He bent down, preparing to lift me, but I quickly stopped him in a panic.

Mitsuki: "I-I’m joking! You really don't have to do it!"

(It's too embarrassing to be carried like that in the middle of town!)

Drake: "Getting shy, are you? Well, let's do it when you're not embarrassed."

When I was with him, even simple conversations made my heart flutter.

(Being with him is so much fun. I wonder why I feel this way.)

I guess there might have been some truth to it when Arthur teased me about feeling lonely because Drake didn't come home.

As we strolled through the city with light steps, I suddenly heard whispers from the townspeople.

Townsperson 1: "Have you noticed those guys? They've been showing up in town from time to time."

Townsperson 2: "Yeah, they give off a rather intimidating vibe."

I followed their gaze and saw the figures of men dressed in unfamiliar attire at the street corner.

They were wearing long cloaks and had swords at their waists, giving them an overall sharp and imposing appearance.

(Who are those people?)

Townsperson 2: "I've heard rumors that they're mercenaries hired by some noble."

Townsperson 1: "Oh, now that you mention it, they do look like that. If they're here to protect the city, I'm okay with it!"

The townspeople seemed relieved and satisfied as they moved on to another topic.

(Is that really the case? They do have a disciplined military-like vibe.)

Drake: "Heh?"

Startled and feeling a bit uneasy by his impressed tone, I looked up at him and saw a somewhat cynical smile.

Mitsuki: "Drake? Is something wrong?"

Drake: "Nah, I just thought they seemed like skilled fighters. I bet it'll be fun to spar with them."

Mitsuki: "Don't challenge someone to a duel just because you find it fun."

Drake: "Haha, don't worry. I won't. But if someone challenges me, I won't back down."

He laughed it off, and we continued on our way, but the group from earlier and that fleeting smile on his face left me with an uneasy feeling.

It was that night that we had sudden visitors.

Mitsuki: "Vlad! Why are you here?"

Without any warning, Vlad and his two companions from the old castle came to the mansion.

Vlad: "Sorry for dropping in unannounced, Mitsuki. Are Comte and Leonardo here?"

Vlad: "I have something important to discuss."

Mitsuki: "Sure. I'll let the others know. Please come in."

They seemed to have something important to discuss, so I invited them in.

Drake: "Little fawn, those guests..."

Charles: "Oh! Hey, is that the new vampire who joined the mansion?"

Faust: "The 16th-century pirate, was it?"

Mitsuki: "Yup. It's your first time meeting each other, yeah?"

Mitsuki: "Drake, this is Comte's old friend, Vlad. And these are Faust and Charles."

Mitsuki: "Vlad, this is..."

Vlad: "I've heard from Comte. You're Francis Drake, the renowned hero of the sea."

Drake: "Yeah, I've heard about you too. So, you're another pureblood, huh? Nice to meet you."

After exchanging brief greetings with Drake, Vlad immediately headed deeper into the mansion.

Drake stared at Vlad's departing figure, his expression somewhat unusual.

Drake: ".........."

(Drake?)

Despite being curious about that gaze, I also went to call Comte and the others.

While the three purebloods were talking in Comte's room, Faust and Charles were waiting in the living room.

Apparently, they didn't know why Vlad had come to the mansion.

Faust: "We saw a peculiar group carrying swords in town."

Mitsuki: "Oh, I saw them too. The townsfolk were saying they might be mercenaries."

Charles: "When we saw those people, Lord Vlad suddenly decided to visit the mansion."

(Does Vlad's important matter have something to do with those people?)

After a while, Vlad, Comte, and Leonardo came to the living room after finishing their conversation.

Their expressions seemed somewhat stern.

Leonardo: "Sebastian, are all the residents of the mansion present tonight?"

Sebastian: "I believe no one has gone out."

Comte: "Good. Could you gather everyone? I have something I want to discuss with all of them."

As soon as the residents of the mansion gathered in the living room, Comte, facing all of them, began speaking.

Comte: "I'll get straight to the point. It seems that vampire hunters have appeared in Paris."

(Vampire Hunters?)

It wasn't an entirely unfamiliar term, but I couldn't form a concrete image in my mind as I listened to Comte's explanation.

Comte: "There are few who know of their existence, but they are, as the name suggests, individuals who hunt vampires. In other words, they are our enemies."

Comte: "If you have seen those intimidating men wielding swords in the city, those guys are the Hunters."

(Those people I saw during the day!?)

(Well, it's true that they have a military-like atmosphere.)

Just as I was connecting the dots, Isaac suddenly voiced a question.

Isaac: "Wait. I saw those people too, but the townspeople said they were mercenaries, not hunters."

Isaac: "In the first place, do hunters really exist in this era?"

Vlad: "They proudly wear the same symbol as us as part of their identity. They hide it in their accessories and clothes."

Vlad: "Those people in the city all wore the same symbol as the hunters who massacred my clan."

Everyone present let out a small gasp.

Vlad's family, the Draculesti, were considered special beings.

However, I heard that when he was a kid, everyone in his family, except him, was slaughtered by vampire hunters.

(I can't believe those hunters are now in this city.)

Comte: "Vampire hunters don't appear on the public stage of history, but they secretly organize and carry out missions."

Comte: "And their mission is to hunt us, vampires."

Leonardo: "But you see, they're just regular humans. They can't spot us at a glance."

Leonardo: "Unless they witness us drinking blood, they won't be able to expose us."

(Leonardo has a point.)

Most of the residents sustained themselves with rouge or blanc.

As long as they didn't bite someone, they could avoid being discovered.

Feeling somewhat relieved, Vlad quietly spoke up.

Vlad: "There is just one thing that concerns me."

Vlad: "The presence of the vampire hunter's spear that pierced my chest."

Vlad touched his chest over his clothing as if trying to suppress the pain from the wound.

Vlad: “That spear can kill even pureblooded vampires, and there are only two of its kind in this world.”

Vlad: “If, by any chance, they still have it, the danger would increase significantly.”

Drake: “.........”

(It can kill even pureblooded vampires.)

Just hearing those words sent a chill down my spine.

Comte: “I want you all to enjoy your second life. But considering who the enemy is...”

Comte: “I don’t want to lose any more family members.”

Comte: “Please, be very careful.”

It was unclear to me how everyone was taking Comte’s heartfelt words.

Drake: “Hm. Those guys look tough, so I wouldn’t mind picking a fight with them if I had the chance.”

Drake: “But I guess I’ll refrain from getting involved.”

Drake’s grumbling lightened the tense atmosphere, making me relax a little.

Mitsuki: “Honestly, Drake, even at a time like this...”

Napoleon: “You don’t really give a damn if someone looks strong, huh?”

Dazai: “Haha! Picking fights might not be a good idea, but being overly cautious might not be good either.”

Dazai: "It's just like when you take off after seeing the cops, even if you have nothing to hide, and they start getting all suspicious of you."

Isaac: "Dazai, do you have that kind of experience?"

Leonardo: "Well, we've managed to avoid getting caught until now, but we can't just lock ourselves in the mansion until the hunters leave."

Arthur: "I was looking forward to secretly having fun with some girls, but it looks like I'll have to put that on hold for a while."

Theo: "It seems like Arthur is the only one who needs to be careful."

The atmosphere lightened, and the usual banter returned.

Their nonchalant attitude helped ease the seriousness of the situation, but it also made me realize something I'd never thought about before.

(I knew that everyone here is a vampire, but I never thought I'd have to worry about them being hunted down.)

I silently prayed that nothing would happen to them, but at the same time, I wondered if all I could do was pray.

After Mitsuki and the vampires had returned to their respective rooms, Drake stood on the balcony.

Drake: "A visit from the true vampire hunters."

Drake: "Nice. It's going to be interesting."

He drew a knife from his waist and held the blade up.

(I can't seem to fall asleep.)

I was still anxious about those vampire hunters in Paris, and my racing thoughts kept me from sleeping.

(Maybe I should get some fresh air.)

With that thought in mind, I slipped out of bed and headed to the balcony.

(Huh?)

To my surprise, there was already someone there.

Mitsuki: "Drake?"

Drake: "Little fawn, what are you doing out here?"

Mitsuki: "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get some air."

As I stood beside him, Drake leaned against the railing and peered at my face.

Drake: "I got it. You couldn't sleep because of those vampire hunters."

(Well, I can't deny that entirely.)

Mitsuki: "It's embarrassing, but yeah, maybe a little."

Drake: "You’re honest as always. Would you like this big brother to keep you company?"

Mitsuki: "Hehe, you're teasing me again."

Mitsuki: "Are you going to count sheep until I fall asleep?"

I playfully changed the topic, and he extended his arm toward me, pulling my shoulder closer.

Drake: "I'll count sheep like this until you fall asleep."

Drake: "One sheep, two sheep."

(He's so close.)

Despite the cool night breeze, I could feel his body heat, causing my face and body to grow warmer.

Mitsuki: "Drake, um..."

Drake: "Three sheep, four sheep."

Despite being flustered, he continued to pat my shoulder and count sheep.

Drake: "You're so warm. I'm going to have a hard time letting you go."

Drake: "If this were a bed, I'd fall asleep first."

Mitsuki: "I'm just a little warm."

Drake: "Is that so? Haha! Then you might not get any sleep."

When I managed to squeeze out my voice, Drake quickly moved away.

(Phew. I thought my heart was going to explode.)

However, I found myself feeling a little lonely when his warmth left, so I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

Perhaps it was his usual casual demeanor, but the unsettling unease in my heart was starting to subside.

Drake: "Well, hearing about the vampire hunters appearing can make anyone anxious."

Drake: "Since we all live together, there's always a possibility that even as a human, you could get involved."

Mitsuki: "I'm more worried about everyone than myself."

I looked down at the garden from the balcony.

The vibrant flowers I saw during the day were now shrouded in darkness.

Mitsuki: "Everyone in the mansion became vampires, but they're just living their second lives with such strong determination."

Mitsuki: "And I know that even the three purebloods have a deep affection for humans."

Drake: "..........."

Mitsuki: "It's just heartbreaking to imagine them being hunted as villains."

Mitsuki: "It would be nice if we could understand each other beyond our differences."

(I don't want anyone to get hurt. Everyone here is important to me.)

(Drake, too.)

I wish the wind could carry away all my anxiety.

Thinking that way一

Drake: "I guess that's what vampires are to you."

I heard him say this coldly, so I turned my gaze to him.

(Drake?)

Drake: "But you know, that's just a one-sided perspective. For humans, it doesn't matter what feelings vampires may have."

Drake: "The fact remains that vampires drink human blood."

Mitsuki: "Yes, but..."

Drake: "Humans are the same. Humans hunt vampires for their own convenience. They resist the threat to their lives."

Drake: "Humans might also have the motive to eliminate superior beings to dominate the world."

He raised the corner of his mouth and wore a sarcastic smile.

Drake: "Predators and prey, hunters and the hunted一humans and vampires are parallel to each other, no matter how you look at it."

Drake: "That's why they've been killing each other in the shadows of history."

(.........)

His words were painfully realistic, perhaps because he was someone who had survived through the ages and had a unique perspective.

But his attitude of not siding with either side felt like一

(He's been observing the relationship between humans and vampires from a distance.)

His aquamarine eyes, usually gazing into the distance, now looked dark and somber.

Drake: "The difference in our species is the root of fear and hatred. That alone can make anyone cruel."

Drake: "Both humans and vampires have the same roots. Hatred seems to be a part of living beings' nature."

Mitsuki: "Drake."

His words felt like a harsh outpouring of emotion, and before I realized it, I had grabbed his arm.

Drake: "........."

Mitsuki: "Are you okay? You seem to be in pain."

Drake: "Mitsuki."

Suddenly, the night breeze that had been rustling the trees calmed down. We gazed at each other as if time had stopped, and Drake's hand overlapped mine.

Drake: "Your hands are warm."

Mitsuki: "Yours too."

Drake: "Haha! Maybe you only think that for now."

(Only for now?)

I didn't quite understand the meaning of those words, but...

(I don't want to believe that hatred is at the root of human nature.)

(But did something in his past make him think that way?)

Drake: "Sorry. This conversation turned unexpectedly heavy."

Drake: "Even if a hunter appears, it doesn't mean they'll suddenly barge in here."

Drake: "Instead of burdening yourself with worry, why don't you get some rest now?"

Mitsuki: "Okay."

He patted my head gently, and his eyes were smiling, but...

(Even the clearest ocean has dark and unreachable depths at the bottom of it.)

(I wonder if Drake also has a place like that in his heart.)

Those thoughts crossed my mind that night.

Previous Part╎Masterlist╎Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp drake #ikevamp francis #francis drake #ikevamp jp #ikevamp translations #cybird #ikevamp spoilers

68 notes · View notes

kaylinalexanderbooks · 13 hours

Text

Personality through quote

Thanks to @elsie-writes here and here and @leahnardo-da-veggie here!

Rules: have your OCs respond to a given prompt then give the people you tagged a prompt

Got long, below the cut :)

[A quote about feelings]

Lexi: "I have a lot of feelings...they all are pretty intense. Every emotion is like that for me. When I'm happy, I'm ecstatic, exhilarated. When I'm sad, it's like I'm depressed. I get just a little stressed and my anxiety flares up, and I start crying. It's a lot, honestly."

Maddie: "Feelings are fine and cool, I guess. I like my feelings toward Lexi and Kelsey. Don't really like my feelings toward someone like Brycen. Not sure how I feel for others, though. They like me, which is cool. I dunno. Feelings are super weird."

Ash: "I think I'm starting to understand feelings of others better now that I've discovered my telepathy. It's interesting, seeing how I experience other's emotions. It gets a little metaphorical. Fascinating stuff."

Gwen: "I mean, Lexi was once upset and I was sent to comfort her because I was apparently the most empathetic there. I'd say I'm in touch with my emotions. I get a little too emotional at times. I hold back a lot more than people think, though."

Robbie: "Dude, feelings are kinda dope. Like our brain just feels sad and our chest physically hurts. Doctors can't explain it. [Pause] Okay, both of my parents are doctors and they kinda can, but it's cool regardless."

Akash: "Huh. Well, it's important to feel feelings, and it took me a while to face them. I'm good now, though. I think it's important to face them."

Jedi: [silent for too long] "Well, *rubs back of neck* "I like to...think of myself as someone in touch with his own emotions...."...*nods*

Carmen: "No."

[A quote about their thoughts on NFTs and/or cryptocurrency]

None of these guys would like it but this is a fun prompt!

Lexi: "Isn't crypto a scam? I don't like the idea of that. Just stick to regular money."

Maddie: "NFTs don't make any sense. Just right-click the image. Downloaded."

Ash: "Honestly, I feel like owning an image sounds fun in a silly way, but I'm not that reckless with my money. Would rather spend it on tangible things."

Gwen: "I'm uncomfortable with the idea of people charging you to own an image, fake money or not. I mean, why not make actual art?"

Robbie: "Oh my God did you see the NFT ape movie? Dude, it's so bad. I can't believe there are people this stupid."

Akash: "Not only is it unethical, it literally makes no sense. The money isn't real? Why would you do that? Like, have you looked at the value of crypto?"

Jedi: [intently listening to someone explain crypto and NFTs] "Well, now that is just ridiculous. How in the world do they expect to regulate that?" [A few more minutes of baffled rambling]

Carmen: [also had to have someone explain it to her, but she interrupted more] "Are you kidding me?! Is stupidity a common genetic trait among Ceters?!" [More ranting]

[A quote about remembering the ones they lost]

Well uh I'm not gonna go into any major spoilers so I'm gonna expand the meaning to more than just death.

Um, gradually gets sadder because my first few have not experienced their main trauma yet >:)

Lexi: "Oh, I had so many friends in elementary school! I mean, I still have a lot of friends, but I miss those who went off to different intermediate schools. It's okay, though! I found them on social media, and a couple had phones by fifth grade. I should totally hook up with them again! Thanks for asking!!"

Maddie: "I guess Brycen. He was my friend before he became a jerk. I would like to be friends with him again. Like, then him before he was a jerk."

Ash: "I miss the friendship I had with Shelby. I don't know why, it was literally only for a week or two. But there was...something about her friendship that sucked me in. I still have Lexi, so I think I'll be okay. Then there's my ex-stepdad, Frank. He was sometimes fun. Toward the end he became rude. Before that, though. I miss when I felt like he was a dad, I guess."

Gwen: "My grandfather died when I was very young. He was amazing, though, and I am just glad I remember him. He read stories to me and played with me. And then there's my cat, who we lost a few months ago. She was really sick. I still miss her."

Robbie: "God, I miss Lalika, Akash's mom. She was basically a second mom to me. I talked so fast around her as a kid. She was just starting to learn English when we met, so I don't know if she got everything, but she would always smile and laugh when I did, paying attention to my emotions so she could respond appropriately. But I also loved to read aloud my favorite books to her, so I helped in that regard I guess. She went to all my plays. She made sure to get something for my birthday, and Sam's, separate from Akash's gift. She was amazing."

Akash: "My mom. Every day, I miss her. It's...hard to move past it, I guess. She would listen to you. I still remember her songs that she'd sing, and I still listen to them. She loved taking pictures and filming everything, which I am so grateful for now. She fought for me, when the school district dug their heels in about something. Made sure I had everything I needed to succeed. She was the best."

Jedi: "My mother fought for me my entire life. She pushed to get me an accelerated academic program, fought to drag me and my sister to a better place where I could thrive. Fought my father when he...let us say, went too far. She was fiercely protective. I owe her my life. I just wish I could have repaid her."

Carmen: *scoffs* "I knew Atsila my whole life. Why wouldn't I miss her?" [Yeah sorry that's all you're getting out of her]

Tagging @dyrewrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer @elsie-writes @mk-writes-stuff @aalinaaaaaa @sam-glade @thebejeweledwatercat @winterandwords @mysticstarlightduck @somethingclevermahogony + anyone else ;)

Prompt: A quote about a weird habit they/someone else has.

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

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cerealmonster15 · 14 days

Text

Valentine's Day is for the Besties [TWST]

[Ao3 Link]

Wordcount: 1,853

Summary: The Heartslabyul boys go on a picnic together.

Note: there's a specific ref to something trey says in his platinum birthday story here and it might be kind of weird w/o that context but you also don't need to have read it to read this lol / it's not any sort of lore spoilers [see ao3 for additional notes and tags!]

“BOYS!” Cater clapped his hands together from where he stood in the room’s entryway, Trey entering in from behind him.

Riddle looked up from the textbook he had been tutoring Ace and Deuce from. “Cater, you don’t need to be so loud. It’s only the three of us in here.”

Ace looked welcome to the distraction. “Yo, if it isn’t our favorite pair of juniors! What’s up?”

Cater strode his way into the room and hopped up onto the table’s edge to take a seat, kicking his feet back and forth in the air with a giddy smile.

Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...Cater. If you're going to be so bold as to interrupt so casually like this, I assume you must have something important to say, yes?”

“Of COURSE I do!” Cater smiled innocently, while Trey offered a more apologetic smile beside him. “A very important question, actually!”

“On with it, then.”

“Do any of you…” Cater pointed at each boy in the room to punctuate every word, “...have a date for Valentine’s Day tonight?”

Riddle’s jaw dropped. Was THAT really what Cater came in to ask? He interrupted their study session for frivolous gossip!? Honestly, while Cater should know better, Riddle also could not say he was surprised by such tomfoolery, either.

Before he could complain, however, Ace immediately spoke up. “I know for a fact that Loosey-Deucey here doesn’t!”

“Hey!” Deuce protested with a scowl. “What makes you think I don’t have a date?!”

Ace crossed his arms and flashed Deuce a smug grin. “Do you?”

…

“...No.” Deuce admitted with a sigh, which only made Ace laugh obnoxiously loud.

“Come on now, Ace. Don’t bully Deuce,” Trey chided. “After all… I seem to remember you telling one of the other dorm members how you were probably going to spend your evening tonight skulking around the Heartslabyul kitchen to mooch off desserts for people baking last minute for their dates. That doesn’t sound like the plans of a guy with a date of his own, does it?”

Ace gasped in shock at both Trey’s smug grin that matched his own from moments before, and at the sudden attack on his life. “WH- Hey! C’mon, everyone knows Valentine’s Day’s for lame suckers, anyway! Why do I need a date to worry about when I can just take it easy and do whatever I want instead?”

“Okay, so no date for Acey, either? Great!” Cater ignored Ace’s following protests and turned to Riddle. “And what about our super cute housewarden? Got any exciting plans?”

Riddle’s face went bright red and he quickly turned away from the group to avoid eye contact, pretending to busy himself out tidying the study guides strewn about the table. “I-I see no reason to distract myself with such things, that’s all…”

Ace snorted. “Your standards would probably be impossible to meet, anyway.”

Riddle’s flustered look was instantly replaced with one of annoyance. He straightened up, placed his hands on his hips, and scowled down at where Ace sat at the table. “And just what do you mean by that, Ace?!”

Ace snickered again and ducked behind Deuce. “Uh oh, I think I struck a nerve with him!”

“Quit it, Ace!” Deuce complained, trying to squirm out of Ace’s evil clutches on his shoulders.

“Shh, shh, no need to fuss, gentlemen!” Cater waved his hands dismissively and kept up his bright, peppy grin amidst the discourse in the room. “The stars have aligned, and they’re telling us we do have plans tonight - together!”

Ace paused his bickering with Riddle and Deuce to raise an eyebrow at Cater. “Huh?”

“Cater wants to go on a picnic,” Trey clarified. “We thought it might be fun to go as a group, that’s all.”

“...Well,” Riddle once again straightened his posture and pretended that he wasn’t about to break out into a full-on brawl with Ace moments ago. He cleared his throat and faced Cater with a poised, neutral expression. “You could have simply started with that, Cater.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Regardless,” Riddle continued, “I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea. I’ve never been on a picnic before, though, so I will have to look into the proper preparations.”

“I’ve never been on a picnic, either,” Deuce quietly admitted.

“Perhaps you and I should head over to the school’s library for some guide books together before we go.”

Cater and Ace made eye contact with each other and sighed in solidarity of the sheer goofy behavior their friends were exhibiting. Thank god the social skills masters were here to save their lives and prevent them from an overthinking spiral into madness.

A few hours of avoiding the library and hovering around Trey in the kitchen later, the five of them made their way to a cute little clearing that Cater had scouted out earlier that week. A prime location for taking cute pictures with your friends that you could look back on in the later years, for sure.

“This is a pretty sweet spot you scoped out, Cater!” Ace commented as he and Cater pulled out the picnic blankets to spread for everyone to sit on.

“It is a rather picturesque location,” Riddle agreed, standing with his arms hanging by his sides, looking unsure of what to do. The setting was much more casual than their usual unbirthday parties, and both Cater and Ace had insisted there were no rulebooks for such a situation… How was he to know how to behave without explicit directions!?

“Aw, thanks, guys!” Cater beamed. “And I just KNOW we’ll have the cutest pics for magicam. We’ve got it all! The perfect setting carefully curated by yours truly, super photogenic snacks - thanks Trey, BTW - and the smiling faces of the cutest company a guy could ask for on Valentine’s day.”

Cater punctuated his statement with his most charming wink and blew a kiss to the group.

Riddle sighed, Deuce nearly dropped the box of truffles he was holding, and Ace let out the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise he could possibly muster.

“Alright, come on, now,” Trey laughed. “You’ll have plenty of time to drive each other crazy while you’re eating. You want it while it’s still fresh.”

“Ugh, whatever dad.” Ace rolled his eyes and sat down on the grass, promptly stealing a truffle out of the box Deuce was still holding.

“Hey!” Deuce protested, shoving Ace out of reach with his free hand.

“Boys,” Riddle scowled as Cater pulled him down to sit on the blanket between him and Trey. “Save your dessert for last, and no roughhousing! We may be outside, but you still need to mind your manners.”

“Yes, housewarden…” The two mumbled as they reluctantly pulled away from each other but still made sure to flash each other a not-so-stealthy stink-eye.

“But before we eat,” Cater interjected, “we’ve gotta take a nice pic with all the food out and arranged so nicely! It would be a shame not to capture the hard work we put into making it all look cute, don’tcha think?”

Riddle’s stomach rumbled.

“...Y-yes, well…” Avoiding the amused stares, Riddle hurriedly gestured for Ace and Deuce to come into frame where Cater was angling his phone camera. “Let’s do it quickly, while everything is still fresh, as Trey said.”

A few more seconds and clicks of the camera shutter later, it was finally time to eat. Cater, of course, was too distracted with picking which photo to upload to Magicam to start.

“...Cater,” Trey gently nudged his elbow against Cater’s ribs. “We made those pepper poppers especially for you, you know.”

Cater squirmed away from Trey’s judgemental gaze. “I know, I know! I’ll eat some in juuust a sec- help me pick which one to upload!”

Ace leaned over Cater’s shoulder and pointed at the phone with his already half-eaten sandwich. “Oooh, what about that one? Prim and proper Housewarden’s mid-blink; that’ll get you rarity points.”

“Excuse me?!” Riddle opened his mouth to argue, but froze before he could even begin to speak. His eyes slid to the space beside Ace and locked onto something in Trey’s hand.

A mustard bottle…

Simultaneous flashbacks spawned within the minds of all present. Every member of Heartslabyul was all too familiar with the week where Trey Clover descended into a mustard madness, trying harder every day to force his taste buds to adjust to liking, or even simply tolerating such a common condiment. It got to the point that Trey would have added mustard to his next cake, had it not been for the intervention of the collective dormmates. He’d calmed down after that, and everyone thought that was the end of it… But here they were, and there was the mustard.

“...Trey, what’cha got there?” Cater asked after a few more seconds of silence and began shifting across the picnic blanket. “I totally love spicy mustard, and it’s so sweet of you to pack it for us. Wanna hand me that bottle…?”

“Hear me out!” Trey protested, hand going for the mustard cap. “I promise I’m not going to try and squirt it all over the desserts or anything like that. We have a lot of sandwiches, and that’s a perfectly reasonable food to spread a little mustard on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, for people who actually like mustard,” Ace said, following Cater’s lead and reaching for the bottle. “Give it.”

“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Trey,” Deuce added. “But it’s honorable that you want to change yourself for the better! Maybe I should follow your example and not pick out the bell peppers from my salad…”

Riddle shook his head and put a hand on Deuce’s shoulder. “There’s no need for either of you to be so drastic.”

“You almost tried that last time, too,” Ace added. “Two weird food martyrs aren’t gonna fix anything!”

Cater’s hand was on top of Trey’s. “Trey, hon, just let go of the bottle, and it’ll all be alright.”

Trey sighed and relinquished the mustard. “It’s really not as big a deal as you’re all making it out to be. No need for another intervention, okay?”

Cater pat Trey on the back with a smile. “Right, riiiight, it’s all good now, bestie.”

“Cater.”

“Okay! Crisis averted!” Cater shuffled back across the blanket towards the sandwich platter and away from Trey’s disapproving stare. “Now someone please help me decide on a pic to upload!”

After a couple of hours filled with photo picking, snacking, laughing, and of course, lots of bickering, it was time to pack up and return to the dorm. Cater, of course, needed to stop every few minutes and take another picture of the sky as the sun sunk below the horizon.

They arrived back at the dorm after dark, but they arrived together, having nearly forgotten the reason they’d chosen to go out on that day in particular in the first place. Heartslabyul was known for being one of the more socially extroverted dorms, after all, and for good reason.

Because in Heartslabyul, you are never truly alone.

#twisted wonderland #twst #heartslabyul #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #trey clover #ace trapola #deuce spade #cereal writes

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hunterxreaderoneshots · 1 year

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Eager to Learn - Hunter x Fem! Human! Reader (Part 1)

THANKS TO THEM SPOILERS

Hunter was struggling with too much in the Demon Realm. The image of Belos’ disgusting, deformed mutation, and his pale face standing out; it terrified him.

“Hunter, why are you hurting me? I only wanted to help you!”

He shuddered, remembering how his face immediately turned back into that of a monsters’. And that’s just what he is… a monster…

His mind trailed off again, remembering when he realized he was a Grimalker. His eyes teared slightly, and he looked around at everyone else still trying to gather themselves in Camila’s snug home. He realized Luz had gone off to the bathroom, and so he made his way towards her, the thought of being a Grimwalker still fresh in his mind.

…

After months, Hunter was thriving in the Human Realm. He had learned and picked up “human hobbies” that fascinated him; he even sewed his very own shirt! Rather than having the sigil of the Golden Guard on it, it had three of the same gorgeous animals he had fallen in love with: wolves. He was excited about his shirt, but it wasn’t done quite yet. And so he put together a very fashionable set of clothes for an outing today. Of course, he needed to hide his ears so he put a beanie over them.

Usually the Hexide Squad would wander around together, Luz leading the way and everyone following, learning the wonders of the enchanting human realm. Today, Hower, Hunter wasn’t in the mood to be around the others. He thought he had seen Belos and it tormented him to think that maybe he still existed. He thought Belos was dead after The Collector flicked him into a wall but, was he?

Hunter shivered slightly at the thought. He looked up from the sidewalk and to the shops to the left of him: A library! He had been doing research on Gravesfield and its history of witch hunting, hoping he could get some answers. Witch Hunter: Is that why Belos named him that? No, no, no. Not now. Don’t think, don’t think, you’ll be fine…

Hunter walked in and was flooded with the smell of paper and books. The library was rather empty. There was a walkway that led to a counter where a young girl stood. To the left of it were some shelves and tables, and to the right there were computers and more shelves.

“Oh hello there!” Hunter flinched back to the sound of the girl welcoming him, “Welcome to the Gravesfield Library!” Hunter made his way towards the counter.

“Uh, hi…” He said shyly, “Uh… nice place you got here.” He said, admiring the shelves full of books. He had always loved studying different things. He was fascinated by books and the immeasurable knowledge they held. But he could never share what he learned; he knew better than to admire wild magic. No, there’s nothing wrong with that. Just… him…

“Oh, thank you!” She chirped, “We try to keep it as comfortable and welcoming as we can. Say, I don’t recognize you, are you new here?” Hunter’s face flushed red: had he just been caught? What would she do? Should he run and hide? “Uhh- I- uh- yes!” He responded quickly, “I’m new and I’m staying with a friend. I just, uh, wanted to learn more about the town since it’s so, uh- full of history! And… intriguing?” She smiled at him.

“Oh sure! We have tons of history about Gravesfield. This old town goes back to the 1600s!” She explained.

“Huh, you don’t say.” He replied, crossing his arms. “It’s incredible the change that can go on in a few hundred years.”

“Sure is!” She replied. “Anyways, if you wanna find out more about Gravesfield, we have some books over there, in the History section” she said, pointing to her right. “Look for the books under ‘Gravesfield,’ they should have a blue tag on them.” Hunter looked to his left and saw what he was looking for.

“Oh, thank you- uhh..”

“(Y/N)! I’m (Y/N).” She said, and Hunter blushed lightly. He had never heard that name before. It sounded lovely.

“Oh, well. Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Hunter.” He smiled softly at her. He could feel the tips of his pointed ears burning.

“Well, Hunter, if you need anything I’ll be right here.” She flashed a smile at him. “Oh, and welcome to Gravesfield by the way! I hope you like it here.” He smiled at her.

“Thank you! And yeah, I do like it here.”

Despite everything, Hunter felt at home in the human realm. How strange was it to feel at home somewhere he’d never been in? Is it a part of me that’s human and feels back at home? He froze. Was he the only Grimwalker to survive long enough to see the human realm? He felt his hands begin to shake and decided to look for his book.

After a while of looking, pulling out different books, and realizing that the dust on them meant nobody cared for these books, he found a few that interested him. They were about the old witch hunters of Gravesfield and the newer books were a revision of Gravesfield. (Y/N) had been right, there was a ton of history to learn.

He made his way back to the checkout counter. Was he excited to see (Y/N) again? He felt slightly nervous about approaching her.

As he went up to her, she looked up from her computer and smiled, “Oh wow! You weren’t joking when you said you wanted to find out more!” He smiled shyly at her. “Heh heh… Yeah. I guess you could say I’m quite the researcher.” She smiled at him.

“All right, well, since you’re new here I’m gonna assume you don’t have a library card. All you need to do is fill out this sheet and I’ll give you your own card in a minute! We have plenty of personalizable designs.” She pulled out a laminated sheet of paper with little examples of different designs. One caught his eyes: one with a wolf on it!

“Oh! Can I have that one?!” He asked excitedly, and (Y/N) giggled seeing his enthusiasm.

“You sure can. Here, I’ll load the card into the machine and you can give me the sheet back when you’re done.” She took the laminated sheet back and pulled out an empty plastic card from a bin on her desk. She walked towards a machine and Hunter got to work filling out his information.

It only asked for basic information like his name, age, contact information and address. He figured he’d put Camila’s information where he could, knowing he didn’t have the rest of the information the Human Realm required for humans.

“(Y/N)! I’m done!” He said happily, looking at his work. He was more excited about the library card then about actually reading the books at this point.

“Awesome!” I’ll be right back with your card!” She took his paper, input the information into the machine, and in a few minutes she had a library card just for him. “OK, this card is free, but a replacement will be five dollars, so be careful! You can check out as many books as you like but we have a limit of two weeks per check out. Just pop on by and renew them, and you’ll be good for another two weeks!” She explained to him. Hunter smiled sheepishly as she handed him his card.

“Thank you!” He was so excited to get his card he almost forgot why he had gone to the library in the first place. “So uh, is this it?” He asked.

“Oh, I need to scan your card and then your books,” she explained. Hunter handed her his card and stack of books, and one by one, she scanned everything.

“All right! You’re good to go!” She said happily, giving him his things, “I hope to see you again soon,” She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“Yeah, I’d like to see you again.” He blushed lightly. Had he made his first friend in the Human Realm?

“Oh wait!” She exclaimed, pulling out another sheet of paper, “We’re having something here in Gravesfield soon!” She handed him a poster of what looked like a carnival.

“Oh, uh, what is it?” He asked her, taking the poster and examining it.

“We’ll be having a Halloween Festival in a few weeks. There will be all sorts of activities and fun stuff. I’ll be there with a little booth full of more books about Gravesfield. I’d be happy to see you there.” Hunter blushed and almost squeaked, she wanted to see him again!

“Oh, of course! You can count on me!” She flashed a smile at him as a light blush grew across her (s/c) face.

“Awesome! I’ll see you there!” And with that, Hunter was on his way back to Camila’s. He was too excited about seeing (Y/N) at the carnival to even care for all the books he was lugging. It’ll be ok! I can spend some time with her there and then… Then what? Hunter wasn’t sure about what he’d do, but he knew he wanted to see her again.

…

Weeks had passed and it was the evening of the carnival. Everyone had been surprised to find out Hunter knew about it before they did. The group was excited to tell Luz about the chance that there was Titan Blood, and that they could all go back to the Demon Realm.

Hunter had finished his shirt, and he wore it under his costume. He had taken extra care in his detail, wondering if (Y/N) would like it. Everyone was wearing a sort of costume, and they hoped no one would suspect they weren’t human.

As Hunter walked around, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Belos might be… there. He tried to drown it with the hope of seeing (Y/N) again. He looked around carefully hoping to catch her form, and almost jumped with joy when he finally found her.

He ran up to the booth, his smile ear to ear and his face blushing madly. He felt like he hadn’t seen her in forever when in reality he had visited the library as much as he could.

“(Y/N)!” He called out, and she quickly faced him, a smile on her face just as big as his.

“Hunter! Hi!” She waved as he approached her. “How are you? Are you having fun?” He smiled shyly as he got closer. He wasn’t expecting it but (Y/N) leaned over the booth and gave him a hug. His face turned to a dark red and he froze, not knowing what to do. He couldn’t think of the last time someone hugged him. He finally embraced her too, and a strange feeling of comfort washed over him, with something else. It almost felt like the satisfaction of completing a puzzle of chugging down water after waking up from an unexpectedly long nap. He had no idea what to compare it to, he just felt like… he had been giving something he had been starved from…

She finally pulled away after a good squeeze, “I’m so happy you came! I’ve been looking for you since we set up the booth!” Hunter blushed, she was holding his hands in hers. She was so cheerful and comforting. He wanted to rest in her arms and feel her embrace again.

“Wait- really? You’ve been waiting for me?” He blushed and felt his heart race. No one had made him feel like this. No one had ever made him feel this good.

“Mhm,” she hummed, nodding, “Hey, do you mind if I come with you? I don’t think Ms. Oscar minds if I go.” He smiled and a woman behind (Y/N) smiled and waved dismissively.

“I’d love it if you came with me! You can show me around!” She smiled happily at him. Together, they walked away from the booth and towards the fun.

“I love your costume by the way! Your ears look so real!” He blushed nervously. That’s because they are… Would she still love them if she knew?

They spent a while together looking at different things, playing games at booths and talking together. Hunter didn’t remember the last time he had felt this good. Maybe when Luz had accepted him as family…

Finally, they approached the others by the hayride, and everyone got in. She quickly learned that these were his friends.

On the ride, they learned about the story of the Wittebane Brothers. (Y/N) however, was familiar with these stories. She had studied just about as much as Hunter did.

Hunter and his friends were noticeably uncomfortable. She could tell there was some strange tension between all of them. Maybe they didn’t like the tale of the brothers, or maybe it really had scared them.

As soon as the ride was over, Hunter got off with someone dressed as Azura and the two suddenly disappeared. (Y/N) figured something was wrong and decided it was best to give him space, so she stuck with his friends who happily let her stay by.

After a couple of minutes, everyone began to awkwardly shift around. It seemed like they all had a feeling something was wrong. Apparently, it wasn’t like Luz and Hunter to just disappear.

The girl with an orange wig spoke first, “Luz? Hunter?”

(Y/N) suddenly realized how long it had been since they disappeared.

Suddenly, a woman and another girl who seemed to be of (Y/N)’s age appeared.

“Kid!” The woman shouted, “Has anyone seen Luz?” she asked worriedly. “And has she um…” She hesitated for a moment, “said anything… weird?”

“Boom!” The girl exclaimed, “Find A Phone!” She pulled out a phone and on the screen appeared what seemed to be Luz’s location, and so the group began to move out.

(Y/N) stuck with them as they made their way into the forest and closer to the Old Graveyard. She hoped the two were all right, or that they were trying to prank them.

As the group got closer to Luz’s location, they began shouting for them.

“Luz?! I think she’s this way!” Amity exclaimed, and soon everyone else began calling out.

“Mija?!”

“Luz!”

“Hunter!”

“Guys?! Where are you?!”

“Hunter!” (Y/N) shouted out as loudly as she could, wishing she would find him.

She didn’t know what else to do other than hope Hunter was all right. She walked with them until she could make out their shapes, but… something was wrong…

She then realized there were flashes of colors and shapes, and… there was a strange new detail on Hunter. He didn’t have horns on his costume… The group then ran forwards and she could see what was wrong: Luz and Hunter were fighting, and his skin and eyes had changed color. She froze, not knowing what to do, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Is that- Hunter?” Camila asked. She stared, wide-eyed, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Something’s wrong-” Gus stared intently at the two across the ice bridge.

What’s going on- is this some sort of prank? (Y/N) tried to think, but she didn’t know what to do. She felt panic start to burn in her veins, is Hunter ok??

Hunter looked at the group, and then at Luz, a grim smile on his face, “See, this is why you’re so useful, Luz,” he said, yet it sounded like another voice was echoing his words. “You’re so desperate to help people, you even helped me meet The Collector.”

“What-” Amity froze, and the group shuffled awkwardly again, exchanging frightened looks.

That is NOT Hunter’s voice… (Y/N) began to tremble. She didn’t understand what was happening.

Luz began to panic, “I-I didn’t mean to-” she held her arms out in distress, “I-I thought I was doing something good!” Her voice was breaking and her fear began to leak.

“But… you DID do something good!” (Y/N) didn’t know what to think anymore, it looked like Hunter but it wasn’t his voice, “I thought this one was a lost cause” the voice said, retracting what looked like claws into normal hands, and he stared at them almost admiringly.

“Because of you,” He said arrogantly, “We can finish our work as witch hunters- starting with THEM!”

A claw came hurling towards them, and Amity suddenly pulled out a staff and deflected the hit. Willow and Gus followed, pulling out their own staffs, and suddenly, they flew off and began to circle ‘Hunter’.

(Y/N) was trembling. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t understand what was going on. All she could do was stare in absolute horror. H-Hunter??

The fight was a wild frenzy. There were suddenly several of Gus, and ‘Hunter’ extended his arm, and hit one, deflecting a cloud of purple right after.

“Ha!” He exclaimed triumphantly.

Gus then circled ‘Hunter’, “Hey Belos, remember me?” he asked mockingly. He grimaced and aimed at Gus, but Willow caught his arm and dragged it down.

“Hang tight, Hunter!” Vee called out. She inhaled and, suddenly, wisps of blue were coming to her.

‘Hunter’ cried and pulled back ferociously, and then aimed at Vee with his other arm.

“Vee! Watch out!” Amity shouted, swiftly grabbing her and pulling her away in time just as the claw crushed the bridge.

(Y/N) watched in horror as everything unfolded. She didn’t understand or have the slightest clue on why or how any of this was happening.

‘Hunter’ hit Gus, Willow and Amity, sending them crashing into the ground. (Y/N) jumped back and yelped. She looked up to see that Luz had a staff too now, and she was holding it around ‘Hunter’.

“I know you can hear me, Hunter!” She cried out, “Fight! Him! Off!” He threw her over his shoulder and she screamed, flying in the air. Amity then swiftly twisted her staff around, and a circle of purple light appeared: she was summoning plants. They grew towards Luz and brought the broken bridge back together, catching her safely as she fell.

The staff Luz had been using shrunk, and turned into a cardinal. It flew up the ‘Hunter’s head and began desperately chirping and flapping.

“That’s right,” He muttered, catching the little bird, “you wouldn’t want me hurting your precious palisman- would you?” The bird chirped and cried in fear, “Oh, but again- I don’t care what you want” he said, a grim smile creeping onto his face.

“Goodbye, Evelyn,” he crushed the bird in his claws, the ends of them going completely through the red cardinal. Everyone gasped in horror, watching as green wisps bled out of him.

“NO!” (Y/N) screamed.

One of ‘Hunter’s’ hand reached out towards the bird, when suddenly it grabbed the wrist instead, and released the bird. He began shaking violently, as if trying to control himself.

“Flapjack!” Luz cried out in agony, tears in her eyes, “Flapjack… you’ll be ok…” She tried to reassure the little bird fighting for its life.

Hunter grunted, his arms moving hastily, and he stumbled closer and closer to the water. He punched himself and fell, panting madly.

“You know what I’d like, Belos?” He stood back up, grabbing his arm, walking closer to the water, “I’d like to leave the Emperor’s Coven, and never step foot in that throne room again! I’d like to study wild magic, and learn to carve palismen!” He stepped closer and closer to the edge, “I’d like to attend Hexside as a regular student, and play Flyer Derby with my friends!” He grabbed a small vial with a thick, blue liquid in it, “But most of all, I’d like to make sure, you never hurt anyone AGAIN!" He threw the vile into the water, and suddenly the same echo-like voice returned.

“NO!” It screamed, throwing itself into the water.

“HUNTER!” (Y/N) cried out desperately. Tears were in her eyes, she didn’t know what to do, she was frozen in fear and confusion.

“Oh no, no!” Luz cried out in panic.

Suddenly Camila rushed forwards, “MOVE!” She hurled herself into the water, and quickly came back up with Hunter. He had passed out and laid limp in her arms. She swam towards the bridge and laid him on it.

“Be careful with him!” Willow pleaded as they all surrounded him.

Hunter shook and finally screamed, a green slime flying out of his body, landing several feet away from them. It all came together to form a monster, several feet tall with horns, and a thin, disgusting frame.

(Y/N) was too scared to process it all, she blanked out on what was going on, losing herself in thought trying to find an explanation for all of it. The next thing she knew, the monster was walking through some type of portal, and it disappeared through it.

A moment of silence filled the air, “THAT’S THE BELOS YOU’VE BEEN FIGHTING THE WHOLE TIME?!” Camila exclaimed, horrified.

“Guys! Hunter isn’t moving!” Willow’s voice broke slightly as she spoke, and everyone gathered around him.

(Y/N) held his hand; she didn’t know what else to do. Tears pricked her eyes and shook violently.

“Vee! Call an ambulance!”

“Do human doctors know about possession?”

“Or grimwalkers?!”

(Y/N) looked around frantically, “Wait, what?! Possession? GRIMWALKERS?!”

The group ignored her, all of them desperately throwing out possible solutions and frantic cries.

The little cardinal crept forward, nuzzling Hunter’s lifeless form. It rested on his chest, closing his eyes as a bright light grew from under him. Everyone hushed as a slight glistening sound rang the air, little orbs of light floating up as the bird disappeared.

When he had evaporated into nothing but little specks of light, Hunter groaned and finally moved again. “H-hey guys. Is everyone else ok?” Hunter croaked softly, “Is (Y/N) ok?”

Gus was the first to speak, “Actually, Flapjack-”

“Don’t-” Hunter cut him off, tears streaming down his face “I-I already know” He trembled, gripping his shirt where Flapjack had laid.

“Sit up slowly, baby,” Camila soothed, “are you in pain anywhere?”

(Y/N) gently held his hand and helped him sit up, “I’m ok,” he said in almost a whisper.

(Y/N) ignored everything else for a moment, “Hunter, what just happened? HOW did any of this happen? Are you sure you’re alright? WHO WAS THAT?!”

He just smiled softly at her, “I’ll explain, but, yeah, I’m fine.” Suddenly, she turned around, realizing Camila was saying something about going to the Demon Realm. Hunter and the others made their way towards her. (Y/N) froze, were the stories she had read true? Was there really another world full of magic out there? Suddenly, the portal began to flicker out, “The portal’s closing,” Vee said worriedly.

Luz looked forward, “Then we better head in.”

Hunter began to make his way towards the portal, and (Y/N) felt her heart sink. Hunter stifled a cry and trembled, putting his hand over his chest, “Time to go home, Flap”.

Just as he began to step through, (Y/N) shouted, “HUNTER! WAIT!” She ran to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the portal.

“Wha- (Y/N)?” He stared at her, wide eyed, “(Y/N), I-” before he could continue, she burst out.

“Hunter, wait-” she looked from him, to the portal, and back to him, “Look I don’t know what’s happening or what you’re getting yourself into. There’s no way I’m just gonna let you wander through this by yourself when that… thing just went through.”

Hunter blushed lightly and his gaze softened, “(Y/N), that’s really sweet of you but, you belong here. I’m… I’m not a human,” He said, turning away.

As the two kept talking, Willow, Gus, and Amity all made their way through the portal.

“Hunter, that doesn’t change anything!” She said, smiling at him. His ears perked up. They are real!!

He turned to her again, “What? Really?” He asked, a deep blush coming across his face. Tears almost formed in his eyes.

“Of course this doesn’t change anything!” She said smiling as she took his other hand into her’s. “Look, no matter what this is, what challenge you’re facing or what danger you’re going up against, I want to be here with you the whole way through it!”

Hunter laughed lightly, “(Y/N)! That’s so sweet of you.” He smiled, tears streaming down his face.

“C’mere you!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a tight hug. Hunter hugged her back, almost sobbing into her shoulder. No one had ever made him feel like this. He wanted to feel like this forever.

As (Y/N) pulled away, she suddenly saw Vee shape-shift into Camila. Camila said something to her, and she shifted back as she was pulled into a hug. When Camila let go, (Y/N) jumped towards Vee.

“Hey, Vee!” She looked towards (Y/N) and blushed in fear.

“Oh! (Y/N), I- uh…”

“Can you do that for me too, please? Tell Ms. Oscar I had a family emergency but will try to be back soon!” Vee smiled at her.

“Sure thing, (Y/N)!”

(Y/N) turned towards Hunter and held out her hand. “Let’s go through, together.” He smiled, blushing again as he took her hand. Together, they walked through the portal and into the Demon Realm.

I’m editing this tomorrow Im gonna *passes away and dies*

#toh #toh hunter #hunter toh #hunter x reader #hunter x reader toh #toh x reader #the golden guard #the golden guard toh #toh the golden guard #hunter #the owl house #the owl house hunter #the owl house hunter x reader #Deathlight Gato TOH One-shots #Deathlight Gato #hunter the owl house #x reader

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saltyowlet · 2 months

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BG3FICFEB DAY 1: What was Tav/Durge doing when they were abducted?

Summary: Olive doesn't like asking for help, but maybe after almost killing a certain elf of the night in his sleep, it's kinda time to get some answers. Begrudgingly

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Durge (named)

Word count: 2879

Ao3 Link: [x]

Tags: Canon typical mention of gore, Durge Quest Spoilers, Act 1 and 2 spoilers

Halsin didn't know whether to politely ignore Olive or to call her out. On one hand, Olive looked distressed, pacing back and forth in the middle of camp, her hands ruffling her hair. He could hear her grumble to herself, a habit of hers Halsin figured out very early on in their journey together.

The druid had once asked the other camp members about it, whether he should come help her in her frustration. Most of them casually told him to just let their leader tire herself out. Olive may give herself grief every now and again but given time, the tiefling knew how to solve her problems. Halsin wondered if that's why she was made leader. Despite the insistence that she wasn't or rather she never wanted to be, Halsin could see how well Olive handled the dire situations they were in and made calls, even if tough, that benefited the team.

Although goblins were not the most organized group, a horde of them was enough to upturn a whole village overnight. Even now, Halsin still couldn't believe such a small tiefling made an escape plan for him, strategize an attack on the whole goblin camp, and save the Grove all with just a handful of companions. Even more incredulous, all Olive had to say was it was mere coincidence that her goals aligned with saving the Grove but Halsin knew better. He had seen the softness in her eyes when she came back to the Grove, with tieflings giving her teary thank yous and blessings.

No sane person would jump into the maws of the Absolute cult by mere coincidence. No sane person would walk into a camp of goblins and decimate the camp with just barrels of wine and a flame. No sane person would break into a prison to save simple tieflings and gnomes. And no sane person would pace for a whole 2 hours, well longer than she ever paced herself. Olive’s stomping caught the attention of the whole camp, even Laezel seemed troubled when she would have wholeheartedly ignored Olive's reoccurring self conflict. Halsin gave a quick look at Astarion, usually the cause of Olive’s ire for better or worse. All the vampire responded with was an offended look at the druid’s gall to blame him.

Taking one for the team, Halsin strolled up to Olive, who didn’t take notice of him until he called her name 5 times and managed to put his hand on her shoulder.

“Huh wh- oh, hey Halsin, what is the matter? Do you need help with anything?” Halsin gave her a soft chuckle.

Olive always seemed so intuitive to everyone’s needs except her own. She read people like pages of a tome, observing small nuances to expressions, voices, body language. Sometimes, Olive's observational abilities unnerved those not familiar with her, especially how her fully black eyes made no indication of where she looked except straight at another. Halsin knew those eyes well enough now to know that they never look in scrutiny but mere curiosity. Right now, they looked at Halsin with warmth but hints of a distraction tugged them at the corners.

“No, I’m perfectly content, but I gather you do not feel the same?” Olive gave him a weird look, her head shifting away and her ears twitching nervously. Halsin could see she was ready to scurry off. Olive knew how to confront others on the good and the bad but heavens forbid she do the same for herself.

“What makes you say that?” Halsin’s eyes went from her tousled dark moss hair to down to the ground where a literal indent of where she had been pacing. Olive let out a nervous laugh, not making any eye contact with the druid.

“Oh yeah, uh a lot on my mind. Or rather the lack thereof,” Olive muttered.

Halsin recalled from Shadowheart's admittance of not being the only one who didn’t have any memories. Initially, Halsin thought that maybe the tadpole cause the memory loss, similar to how some of the infected gained or lost certain abilities. Yet, Olive’s demeanor, when discussing the topic, told all Halsin needed to know of the doubts in the theory. He had offered Olive to help, but with every instance, she pushed the notion down, stating that she didn’t want to bother him over something not as dire as what was already in her head.

However, as of late, Olive’s demeanor had gotten worse. Halsin could see the dark circles under her eyes and lack of attention to camp conversation. Astarion knew something, that much Halsin could tell. He had seen the pale elf give questionable, borderline tense, looks at Olive whenever she was lost in thought. During meal times, Olive would abruptly leave her food left barely touched much to Gale’s initial indignation. After a few moments of her absence, Astarion would walk off, claiming he needed something fresher with a sharp smile.

Halsin knew, the camp knew. Olive's absence troubled Astarion, well enough for him to blatantly show concern over Olive. Halsin had asked Astarion before but the pale elf would always tell Halsin that it wasn’t his business to know or Astarion’s to tell. If it weren’t the subject at hand, Halsin would have complimented him for his show of loyalty that Halsin admittedly didn’t think the elf had.

“Do you remember what I told you when I first stayed in this camp and you were worried about our journey to find your cure?” Olive gave him a questioning look. Halsin smiled, again Olive blind only to herself.

“I can be your eyes when you cannot see, your ears when you cannot hear, and your arms when you cannot hold any longer. If you need counsel, Olive, please do not hesitate. “ Olive opened her mouth to speak but held her tongue as shadows of thought brewed in her eyes. Halsin noticed her head shifted away to take a quick glance at Astarion who, despite looking as though lost in the book he held, was well aware of the conversation, indicated by the twitching of his pointed ears. His mouth clenched into a thin line, apprehensive and waiting. It amused Halsin, Astarion’s own affection for their leader, even if he wasn't so well aware of it himself.

Olive looked up at Halsin with a determined look, her black eyes right at Halsin’s. He wondered if this was what it would feel like to have a warm embrace from the abyss.

“Halsin, I need help…with my memories. I can’t remember anything. Not how I got on the nautiloid, how I got captured, who I was when I got captured. But I know it isn't good. I wasn't good,” Olive confessed as she bit her lower bit nervously. “You know I do not like having to come to others about this, but….stuff has happened where I think it's worse if I choose to ignore it. If you have something, anything, please let me know.”

Halsin nodded and put both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to look straight at her. Olive’s eyes looked back with uneasily attention.

“You've helped me with Thaniel, the Shadowcurse with no doubt, no hesitation. Let me do the same for you.”

~~~~~

“Um, why are we all here and uh- even better question, why did Astarion tie Olive up?” Karlach questioned, her heart illuminating the concern on her brow.

Bright stars filled the dimming sky tonight with barely a sound save for the rustling of the wind blown trees and the crackling of the blazing camp fire. Everyone sat circling around the hearth, called upon by Halsin who then passed tin mugs to each along the way.

“Man, don’t tell me it's some weird thing you guys have going on? Keep that in your tents, not my eyes!” Karlach whined. Olive let out an embarrassed shriek and a groan as she burrowed her face into her knees. Astarion had the gall to roar with laughter. Halsin shook his head, a smile on his lips but his eyes remained troubled.

“Olive requested I help with her memory loss. After some deliberation and study, I may have found a possible solution, but it involves some if not all of you. From what I remember you telling me, connecting each of your’s minds comes with memories and even emotions, is that correct?” Shadowheart was the first to speak.

“You want us to all connect to Olive’s mind and hopefully find some answers to her predicament.” Halsin nodded. He noticed some shifting from Laezel, not surprising considering how adamant she was towards using the tadpole. Olive gave them all a look they knew too well. A look Olive gave whenever a tough call had to be made, one that depended on their lives.

“This is only a request, not a demand. I do not have any right to even bring this issue to you all. If I were you, I wouldn’t take this risk, but Astarion-,” Olive glared at him, “-said it was best to let everyone know and have a chance at endangering yourselves.”

Astarion dramatically waved a hand in her direction, a toothsome smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh please darling, we both know you would have done the same for us, Miss Jump-from-a-10-meter-cliff-to-kill-some-goblins. Risking your life is what you do best, dear,” Astarion cooed.

Olive grumbled something along the lines of ‘it was only two times’ but didn’t say much else. Even if Astarion had joked about it, Olive’s habit of literally jumping into danger became a point of contention between the two, mostly because the times she had done so were on Astarion’s behalf, whenever he found himself surrounded. As much as he appreciated Olive’s loyalty, something he had been exploiting for, the carelessness to herself didn’t sit well with him.

Wyll looked at the mug Halsin handed to them. “So Halsin, I’m guessing this isn’t beer we are partaking in.” Halsin nodded grimly.

“It is a concoction I made, used to help with easing the mind, making things, well, easier to dig. A modified recipe from what drows use to break their victims during interrogation. And no, I will not explain that right now. Just know no harm shall befall you from drinking the brew,” Halsin replied as quickly as Wyll opened his mouth. “This is all voluntary. You do not have to participate but know that by drinking the brew, you are willing to search Olive’s memories. So volunteers?”

With barely a hint of hesitation, Karlach and Wyll down the drink as though it was a competition. Gale took a moment to sniff the drink, swirling the mug. His own hesitation wasn’t from the task at hand but from the aroma of the mug. Still, he downed it all, albeit with some complaints about the taste. Shadowheart took hesitant sips first but eventually drank it all, making no effort to hide the disgusted look on her face and a mention of wine.

Laezel gave much more pause, her face scrunched in contemplation. She took one look at Olive, who had turned away to look at the fire, but her shoulder’s weighed down heavily, clear that Olive wanted nothing more than to leave from here. She didn’t want to use her teammates to help her own problems but there was no way she could be free from the fog unless some action was taken. Laezel’s harden face soften just a small bit, remembering how much Olive had done in her stead, defending her against Shadowheart, provided an ear whenever Laezel had praised Vlaakith and now when Laezel damned Vlaakith. Laezel didn't make sacrifices unless it benefited her and her alone, but seeing how put down Olive was, maybe its time she put a leg out for someone else for a change. With a determined roar, Laezel downed the draft and tossed the mug to the grown. Halsin gave them all a smile, proud of everyone.

Gale took one look at Astarion and raised an eyebrow.

“Soooo... I’m guessing our pale friend here isn’t participating? I’m not sure if I’m shocked.” Astarion lazily sat down next to Olive, leaning back with one arm behind him, the other hand patting on Olive’s head, much to her annoyance. Olive's tried to push back his hand with her ram horns but Astarion kept his palm in place.

“Oh don’t worry about dear ol’ me, bookworm,” Astarion gave Gale a smile but the way his teeth glinted, it felt more like a threat at the accusation. “I have my own job to do. Let’s just say our friend here has a habit of biting so I intend to bite back if and/or when the time comes” Gale gave Olive a questionable look but she shook her head, eyes pleading that he didn’t ask further. Gale let out a breath and nodded.

Halsin clapped his hands together in attention. “Alright, now I want you all to focus on digging through Olive’s mind, should not be hard with the draft. Olive, I want you to relax your own, let it drift. If you feel something move in there, do not resist.” Olive gave Halsin a nod, a mix of emotions on her face but when Astarion’s own hand found hers, Olive felt a small inkling of hope.

As everyone closed their eyes and connected their tadpoles to Olive’s, they were surprised to find how easy it was. Olive’s mind was usually guarded, much more difficult to look through but this time, the tadpole connection felt softer. There were cracks and crevices that their minds slipped through like oil, no resistance to be found. Maybe it wasn’t just the brew, but rather Olive herself who seemed to finally give in to laying herself bare to them all. If it wasn’t for their vampire and his unique way of getting on her last straw, the team probably would not know as much as they did of their leader. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, that was obvious, but Olive’s stoicism left nothing for them to grasp.

From keeping her tent way far from the camp to not actively participating in conversations. Make no mistake, Olive talked and shared, but you had to push her to share, let her know that they wanted her to talk. She was guarded, for their sake, not hers. In different circumstances, this would have felt rewarding, Olive letting herself be vulnerable to them.

As they searched in her head, memories of their journey together began to appear. Killing goblins, setting up camp, partying with tieflings, shared laughter among themselves. They can feel the hesitation, the worry Olive had, but they could also feel the small sense of comfort which, unbeknownst to them, was thanks to Astarion. The vampire had let Olive’s head rest on his lap, hand on her head, every so often stroking her hair, very much like how she would for him on many nightly occasions. Olive could not make out what he whispered in her ear, but it was enough to ease her nerves and let herself melt into his rare warmth.

Digging deeper in Olive’s mind became sluggish, even with the concoction. They could tell it wasn’t Olive’s doing, but something else, something older, darker. The team finally reached the beginning of it all, when the nautiloid came to their plane of existence. They push beyond that, their minds scrounging around the memory for clues of their companion’s origins. Right as they reached what looked like the moment Olive entered the pod, their tadpoles started screeching in their heads, wriggling in defiance. Their minds tried to push, grab hold whatever secrets in the fog they could muster. Flashes of red, walls of mucus and flesh, screams of pain, which they realized were her own.

They felt the pain, the white hot pain in her head as it had been cut, stabbed, treated like rotten meat for a beast to play with. Nothing of hers was hers now, just flesh to experiment and play with. The terror and fear she felt were nothing compared to hatred and fury. She demanded to be set free, break her bonds and kill those who dared to put her here. She had slain so many in the years she had lived. How did she allow herself to become the same trash she loved to gorge on. No, she won’t let this be, they must suffer. Rip their throats with her own teeth and claws, gouge their eyes and crush them between their fingers. Stab her bare hands into their stomachs, tearing organs as they scream. She wants it, she demands it.

Let her out, let her out LET. HER. OUT.

Another shriek of pain which everyone realized was from the Olive they knew before them. Her wails pulled them all out, their minds pounding from the pain and adrenaline that Olive’s left marked on their own. Olive was shaking, sobbing as she struggled in her bonds. It didn’t matter she was nearly dislocating her wrist from struggling so badly. It didn't matter that she was spitting blood from her own mouth as screamed.

Astarion’s hands flew to her binds, cutting the rope from hurting herself any further. She scooted away from the fire, from her companions, hugging her knees close to her chest so hard she could barely breathe. Astarion held out his hands, slowly stepping his way to the terrified tiefling, his face with a look of concern no one had ever seen before.

“It's alright, you’re alright. I’ve got you, my dear” Olive’s teary eyes stared up at Astarion who could see the terror in her eyes, pleading for something as questions filled the air. Her other companions gave her varying looks of fear and worry for their leader, their friend. What they saw, what they witnessed, they knew it was nothing compared to what Olive, caring and kindhearted Olive, felt right then and there. Olive let one last sob before running off to the lake, soon the sounds of her own retching echoing back to them. Astarion gave an indescribable look to the group before running off to Olive’s direction.

Notes: A bit different approach to the prompt. Like how do you write something different from an established backstory that hasn't been said? By making it more traumatic for everyone OuO Haven't made a fic in long so forgive any mistakes along the way. I doubt I'll make the other chapters as long as this.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3ficfeb #baldur's gate dark urge #astarion #astarion x durge #durge #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanart

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jokertrap-ran · 16 days

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[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 2-1 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

youtube

2 Years Ago, Mito.

???: Real lame, don’cha think?

???: He’s pathetic as a delinquent.

???: And equally pathetic when trying to play at being part of the Student Council.

???: …HAH?

???: We can’t seriously be tolerating this.

???: Probably.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Sakuya: What, no one’s here again?

Sakuya: We’ve successfully held our concert, and we’ve even pasted our posters up at the Music Education department, yet we don’t seem to be getting any new members.

Hayate: The people in music ed aren’t like those in general ed. We don’t exactly have the time to go parading around with such a suspiciously shady Orchestra.

Sakuya: If so… then what does that make you, exactly…?

Tomoharu: Hahaha. He does have a point.

⊳ Choice: It’s not anything to be joking about

Tomoharu: Pfft- Sorry. I do suppose it’s bad to joke about this, considering our situation.

⊳ Choice: You’re completely open to jibes

Hayate: Wha- Is that how you treat someone who lends you a helping hand!?

Tomoharu: Hmm… But if that’s how it is, then I don’t think we’ll have much luck recruiting members in Seiso Academy.

Sakuya: Yeah. Maybe we should try appealing in a different place—

Ginga: Oh, you’re all gathered?

Ginga: Ready to head out? Plum, natto and history-rich streets await us all!

Kazuma: Do you remember Hashizumi-sensei, from the Mito Symphony Orchestra, who was in attendance for our concert?

Kazuma: She has graciously offered to introduce us to a place where we can hold our future concerts if any.

Tomoharu: Eh? We’re going to hold our next concert in Mito?

Sakuya: Isn’t that kinda far?

Ginga: Cease your chatter! Yeesh, you lot. For people who are aiming to go global, your worldview really is tiny!

Ginga: Isn’t Ibaraki just a moment away if you go by the Joban Expressway?

Hayate: Mito, huh? It would be great if we could get Osakabe-san to join us…

Hayate: He was the Trumpets’ leader from last year’s Starlight Orchestra.

Hayate: He won 4th place in the Brass Section of the Jr. Classical Music Concours just as he’d entered his first year in high school.

Hayate: We were in different sections, so I didn’t really get to interact much with him. But, he’s reliable and someone worthy of respect.

Ginga: Heh? He sounds like an amazing person. Alrighty then, let’s try our damndest to induct him into our ranks.

Hayate: If he’s willing to join the Starlight Orchestra again, then…

Hayate: Maybe there’s some helping this misfit of a Starlight Orchestra, as well as how messy this room is.

Ginga: Huh?

Hayate: I’m talking about this sloppy mess in here— Empty cup noodle cups, pet bottles, and that barely standing mountain of papers just piled together in a heap.

Hayate: He’s also the Student Council President of his school, and very neat about things. I’m sure he’ll put the right to things here.

Hayate: I’m seeing a glimmer of hope here, (L/n).

Ginga: I, on the other hand, am absolutely horrified…

Sakuya: Well, it works out for you too, doesn’t it?

Tomoharu: If we have brass instrument players joining us, that’ll also mean that we’ll be able to play a wider variety of songs.

⊳ Choice: Let’s head out to Mito then!

Tomoharu: Yes! It’s going to be fun, don’t you think, senpai?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Nono: You’re going to Mito? That’s brilliant~!

Nono: That place is a noted place of connection of a really amazing Orchestra Conductor from Berlin ♪

Nono: I look forward to seeing the superb new members who’ll be joining us, Concertmistress!

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) Next Part: (Chapter 2-2)

#金色のコルダスターライトオーケストラ #スタオケ #Starlight Orchestra #otome #Translations #Kiniro no Corda #La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra #Main Starlight

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pengychan · 8 months

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[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 4

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

[Back to Prologue]

A/N: Shax and Furfur demanded a role in the story. I could have said no, but I love them both, so here we are.

***

“Beelzebub speaking. What do you want?”

“Lord Beelzebub. This is Archangel Uriel. I am calling on behalf of--”

“So, are you the Supreme Archangel now?”

Not if Michael has a say in it, was the first thing Uriel thought, but of course that was not a viable response. First of all, it would disclose information to the Enemy that they certainly did not need to know; secondly, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Thirdly… well, same point as the first.

Michael was obviously poised to try and snatch the position even though the Metatron had given no indication who it should go to, and Uriel couldn't pretend she agreed - and aggravating as she found the situation, she knew better than giving hellish royalty any inkling of the friction going in Heaven. Demons would smell blood in the water, much like… huh. There was some kind of beast on Earth that was known for smelling blood in the water. Turtles, maybe? Uriel was approximately eighty-seven percent sure it was turtles. Maybe she’d check later. But right now, there were other priorities. “No,” she finally said. “I am not the Supreme Archangel.”

“Then save both of our time. I speak with the Supreme Archangel, or no one.”

“The position is currently vacant, as I am certain Michael has informed you--”

“Surely it won’t stay vacant, no?”

“Certainly not. But until that moment comes, both me and Michael are working to fill the role.”

A scoff. “Good luck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Neither of you would cut it. Oh yes, Michael is great at swinging a sword, unless she got rusty, and you’re amazing at making drawings over door frames with pig blood--”

“It was lamb blood, and--”

“Could have been platypus blood for all I care. But neither of you knows how to conduct talks. That’s why neither of you was the first choice for the role.”

Uriel scowled, but forced her voice to remain even. “That’s your opinion and you have every right to be wrong,” she muttered. “Now, I believe the reason why I called should be plain. If Armageddon is to happen--”

“I told Michael she’s too below me to bother. Why would you get a different answer?”

As Michael had said. The scowl on Uriel’s face deepened, and this time her voice betrayed just the smallest hint of annoyance. A mistake, she knew. Beelzebub would pick up on the annoyance like a turtle would pick up blood in the… no, what wasn’t right. It was dolphins, wasn’t it? “Due to the unfortunate absence of a Supreme Archangel at the moment, it seems you have no choice but to hold talks with us. We’re certain you want the War to happen so we can settle the score at least as much as we do, so it would be beneficial for all--”

“Nah.”

“... Nah?”

“Sort your own shit out first. There has always been a Commander of the Heavenly Host, and I will only engage in talks concerning Armageddon with the Commander of the Heavenly Host. So pick one first, and then send them to talk to me.”

“The Metatron has elected not to choose--”

“Well, come up with something,” Beelzebub cut her off, their voice cold. “Talk the giant floating head into choosing. Draw lots. Have an election day. Have a coup if you don’t like the election results, those are always fashionable on Earth. I don’t care what you do, but Armageddon is not happening until we’ve had background talks. And those are only happening with an official Supreme Archangel I can hold to their word.”

“What you’re asking--”

“I am demanding. Now figure it out,” the Lord of the Flies cut her off, and ended the call without another word.

***

“Well. They don’t know we-- fine, Crowley. They don’t know I took Gabriel. They probably haven’t even realized he’s missing yet, with how remote the office was. That’s good news.”

Holding back a sigh of relief, Aziraphale nodded. “That really is good. I mean, low-level scriveners can go… a long time without anyone walking into their office. And there can be long time periods with little to no work coming through. With some luck, they may not realize Gabriel is missing at all for quite a while.”

The notion seemed to make Crowley relax just a little. He crossed his arms, leaning against a bookshelf. “Is that your plan to delay Armageddon? Throwing a fit to talk to a Supreme Archangel they currently don’t have?”

An annoyed buzzing sound. “If you have a better idea, please do let me know,” Beelzebub muttered, tilting back their head. “With Gabriel no longer in control of Heaven and those left in charge pressing for war, delaying is all I can do. They won’t think anything of the fact I’m being difficult, it’s part of my job description.”

“And if they do, as you put it, sort their shit out?” Crowley asked, only for Beelzebub to shrug.

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Cross.”

“Huh? Where?” Beelzebub turned, just a touch alarmed - not that crosses could harm demons like they would a literary vampire, but their presence was never a welcome sight regardless, Aziraphale knew. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“No, no crosses, I mean… it’s cross. We burn bridges after we’ve passed them. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“That's what I said.”

“It’s really not--”

“Regardless,” Beelzebub spoke a little more loudly, holding up a hand to silence Crowley, “it will definitely buy us time. If there isn’t some kind of power struggle going on over who is going to take the highest chair available, I’ll throw myself in a vat of holy water.”

That was… not something Aziraphale had trouble picturing, all things considered. A power struggle among Archangels, that was, not Beelzebub throwing themself in a vat of holy water. Having seen first hand what that did to demons, he was not keen to witness it either. “Aren’t you concerned they may suspect you’re purposefully trying to delay things?”

“Doubtful. And even if they do, what are they going to do? Cast me down to Hell?”

“I know it’s not something you wish to concern yourself about at this time, but--”

“You are correct,” Beelzebub cut him off. “Right now, I am concerned about nothing but--”

“Uuugh, my head…”

Three heads and their respective three pairs of eyes turned to the sofa as one, just in time to see Gabriel groaning and sitting up, rubbing his head and tousling his hair in the process. He blinked a couple of times, then turned to look at them. He blinked. Squinted. Blinked again.

Then, he smiled. “Hey! Nice to see you!”

Ah. Aziraphale blinked as well, taken aback. “You… know who we are?”

The smile grew wider, brighter. “I have absolutely no idea,” he replied, chipper as they come. Then his gaze moved from Aziraphale to Crowley and then Beelzebub, and the smile somehow grew larger. That shouldn’t have been physically possible. “Oh! I know you! I drew your face!”

Crowley turned to look at Beelzebub, and his eyebrows went up almost to his hairline when they smiled. “That you did,” they said, and sat on the sofa next to Gabriel, looking at him intently. “And it was a pretty good likeness. You’re really good,” they added, like they didn’t know that all angels, as well as all demons as far as Aziraphale was aware, had the innate ability to draw anything they lay their eyes on in perfect detail.

Going by the smile on Gabriel’s face, he was ignoring that detail too. Or maybe he really was not aware of it. “Thanks, uh…” A pause, and he looked around. “... Actually, who are you guys? And where am I?”

Well. Those were… loaded questions. Aziraphale hesitated a moment before stepping forward. “May I?” he asked, and Beelzebub briefly glanced at him before nodding. Aziraphale nodded back, and smiled at Gabriel. “You’re on Earth, specifically in my bookshop. My name is Aziraphale, but most people here refer to me as Mr. Fell. This gentleman here,” he added, nodding towards someone who was not a man and was plainly not feeling very gentle either, “is Crowley. And they are - please, do not be alarmed - Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said, and paused for a few moments to take in the information. He was not, apparently, in the slightest alarmed upon being informed he was in the presence of the highest ranking demon in Hell after the Adversary himself. In the end, he shrugged and smiled again.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Jibreel. I’m a junior recording angel, 38th class.”

Something crossed Beelzebub’s features, which looked something like pain and something like anger, and it was probably both. Gabriel didn’t notice, though, and Aziraphale spoke before they could, crouching in front of him.

“Nice to meet you, Jibreel. So, how long have you been a junior recording angel, precisely?”

“Uh… a few days? But I’m good at it. Muriel says I am.”

A smile. “I am sure you’re amazing at it. But do you recall what you were before, Jibreel?”

A frown creased his brow, and there was a flicker of… something in his eyes. Recognition? No, that was not it. It was more like concern, even fear. Gabriel pulled away just slightly, leaning against the backrest of the sofa, and looked back at Beelzebub,

“Don’t make me do that again,” he blurted out. “It hurts to remember. My head can’t handle it.”

This time, there was more sorrow than rage in Beelzebub’s expression. They had to swallow before they could speak. “... I won’t let anything hurt you,” they said in the end, their voice tight. “Or anyone.”

“... Why would this anyone want to hurt me?”

“Because it’s what happens to those who don’t toe the line,” Crowley spoke, looking at him with a tilt of his head. “You used to take part in the punishing part pretty enthusiastically, if not precisely successfully on one notable occasion.”

“Crowley…”

“Punishing? I don’t recall--”

“Oh, but I do recall well enough for both of u--”

“Crowley,” both Aziraphale and Beelzebub spoke up at the same time, in two vastly different tones, and he trailed off with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. The long and the short of it, Jibreel, is that Heaven took your memories away.”

Gabriel blinked. “Memories? What memories?”

“What do you mean, what memories? Your memories, from before three days ago!”

“But I don’t have any memories from before--”

“Yeah, that’s the point, you know? You don’t have them because they took them.”

“They?”

“Heaven. Archangels, Metatron, God herself, I don’t know. They took your memories.”

“Oh.” Gabriel frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Oh yes, it is. For me especially, since you’re now--”

“I reckon I should go ask to have them back.”

Oh dear. He had not quite grasped the severity of the situation, had he?

“I… don’t think that’s a viable solution,” Aziraphale spoke up. “They didn’t take your memories by accident, Ga-- Jibreel. They did so on purpose. You really shouldn’t return to Heaven.”

Gabriel looked back at him, utterly baffled. It was almost eerie, how lost he seemed and yet how utterly trusting; at no point, Aziraphale realized, had he even questioned the truth of their statements, or shown any distrust. If they were to tell him the sky outside was a lovely shade of green, he’d probably believe them without question.

“But I am supposed to go back to work. I shouldn’t have left, I told Muriel I’d stay put.”

“Muriel?”

“My superior. They’re 37th class, and really good,” Gabriel, who not long ago wouldn’t have bothered to glance in the general direction of such a low-ranking angel unless he absolutely had to, seemed thoroughly impressed. “They taught me how to record everything and send it to the archive.”

“Well… I am sure that Muriel is lovely, but a 37th class scrivener is not going to be able to protect you from Heaven. They already took your memories, if they decide to do worse--”

“But why would they do that? Are they mad at me?” Gabriel asked, and Aziraphale was… fairly certain that whether to tell him everything or not was not his choice to make. He cleared his throat, looking at Beelzebub. They hesitated, of course; from what they’d told them, trying to force Gabriel’s to remember had put him in excruciating pain, and they were wary to try again. They seemed concerned that just telling him everything would be too much, too soon.

“... Well, we’re still not sure why they wiped your memory, but they did,” they finally said. “I won’t try to get in your mind again, but it’s really important that you try to remember what you were before becoming a scrivener. Can you do that?”

“I…”

“Not right now, necessarily,” Aziraphale spoke up. “Perhaps it will come back to you in time? Clearly, you do recall some things,” he added, gesturing towards Beelzebub. “Their face, for example,” he added, and Gabriel turned to Beelzebub again. He smiled.

“I like your face,” he informed them. Beelzebub did an impressively bad job at pretending that didn’t please them.

“Thank you,” they said, while a few steps away Crowley rubbed his temples as though to chase away any mental image currently taking residence into his brain. “I like yours, too.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Well-- that’s very-- more to the point, Jibreel, this is a sign not all of your memory is gone. You have met them before, and part of you remembered that.”

“Right,” Gabriel conceded, still looking at Beelzebub, then squinted. “... Unless I miracled you into existence when I drew you?”

“You did not miracle the Grand Duke of Hell into existence,” Crowley informed him.

Again, ‘Jibreel’ didn’t seem in the slightest concerned upon being reminded who he was sitting on a sofa with. “Maybe that’s why Heaven got mad at me.”

A slight scoff, and Beelzebub’s lips curled in what was almost a smile. “I can assure you, it wasn’t you who created me. We met before. You were… a powerful angel.”

For a few moments, Gabriel stared. His expression was grim, attentive. He worked his jaw a moment, then… he laughed. “Hah! You’re funny!” He turned to Crowley and Aziraphale with another laugh, pointing at Beelzebub. Who was… plainly not used to be laughed at, let alone while also being pointed at. “I like them.”

“But they’re telling the truth,” Aziraphale said, and looked around for a moment. “Here, let me show you something…”

A few strides, and he was picking up one of his copies of the Quran. He flipped through the pages, then walked back to the sofa and handed the book to Gabriel. “Here, this page. The third paragraph. Read - see, Jibreel? That’s your name right there.”

Gabriel seemed baffled - but then again he was baffled by most things - and looked down to read. “Whoever is an enemy to Jibreel, for he brings down the revelation to your heart-- hey! That’s-- is this about me?” he looked up, eyes wide, and looked over at Beelzebub.

They nodded. “It was you. As I told you, you were pretty important.”

“But I don’t recall--”

“Because they don’t want you to.”

“But why?”

“... We’re going to find out. And get your memories back,” they added, patting the back of Gabriel’s hand. However, this time, Gabriel did not smile.

“I don’t know if I want them back,” he finally said, causing Beelzebub to freeze and look at him, clearly at a loss for words. Gabriel cleared his throat. “It just… they hurt.”

That was… not a response they had expected, and Aziraphale decided to intervene before those words entirely sank into Beelzebub’s mind. “You don’t need to worry about it right away,” he said instead, more to Beelzebub’s benefit than to Gabriel’s. “You had a lot to process just now, so take a break. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

The offer made Gabriel smile again. “Sure! I love it!” he declared, only to pause. “...I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh! It’s really nice. You drink it. Crowley, would you be so kind?”

“Wha--” some undignified sputtering. “I’m not making him hot chocolate!”

“I’m asking for all of us,” Aziraphale replied, all innocence, only about forty per cent of which was real. It got the frustrated noise to end all frustrated noises out of Crowley, but it also got him out of the room. Aziraphale took advantage of his absence to gesture Beelzebub to come closer; they did, leaving Gabriel on the sofa to look around and comment on how many books Mr. Fell had.

“I am sure we can get his memories back,” he told Beelzebub, not being sure in the slightest. Their stony expression didn’t give any indication of whether or not they had guessed as much, so he switched tactics. “... He probably just needs time. This must be all very confusing. We should give him time to settle - after all, your miracle ensured he’d be safe here. There is no rush.”

A long breath, and Lord Beelzebub finally nodded, turning to glance at the sofa. Gabriel seemed to have noticed the fly buzzing near the ceiling, and was smiling up at it like one would greet an old friend. The briefest, most tired smile Aziraphale had ever seen made a brief appearance on Beelzebub’s lips.

“... Very well. I have business to tend to, and a too long absence would be noted. I should go. Let’s pretend I have already made my list of threats in case anything happens to him.”

A chuckle. “Of course. He will be safe here.”

As long as Crowley keeps his temper under control, he thought, but of course he knew better than saying as much aloud.

It wasn’t anything Beelzebub was not aware of, anyway.

***

“... It seems we’re at an impasse.”

“We are. With Beelzebub refusing to entertain talks before we choose a Supreme Archangel, we cannot proceed with the war.”

“Unless we simply attack, and Hell either fights or--”

“There are rules for this. You know as well as I do. The Metatron - and by extension, God - would never give approval.”

“We wouldn’t be having this problem if the Metatron had appointed someone as Supreme Archangel.”

“By which you mean you, don’t you, Michael?”

“Uriel, this is not the moment--”

“No, it is not. Well then, you should contact the Metatron now and tell him he must pick someone. I’m certain he’ll love the attempt at forcing his hand.”

Saraquael’s dry comment gained her a long look from both Michael and Uriel, neither of them particularly friendly.

“We didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I’ll rev my engine next time,” Saraquael replied with a tilt of the head, a hand patting the wheelchair which had absolutely no engine at all. “We all know that the Metatron is not going to change his mind and pick someone to replace Gabriel because you ask him to. That, and neither of you is sure they’d like his pick.”

“Thank you for the enlightening input. Anything else?”

“Well. I figure this might be a test?”

A pause. Michael and Uriel exchanged a quick glance, and looked back. “A test?” Uriel repeated, slowly.

“Yes. Maybe he’ll make whoever solves this impasse the next Supreme Archangel.” A pause, then a shrug. “Ah, but what do I know? I’ll leave this one to you to sort out,” Saraquael added, and turned to the door. She really didn’t need to look back to know Michael and Uriel were already pulling out their phones, walking in opposite directions, to make a discreet call that really wouldn’t be all that discreet after all.

They could be predictable, really. But as long as it got them to do something other than sassing each other across a desk, Saraquael supposed it was something that would be worked with.

***

Hot chocolate. He was making fucking hot chocolate for the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.

The thought alone made him wish he had the foresight to buy some arsenic or cyanide or whatever it was that used to be all the rage a couple of hundred years earlier and sprinkle it in his mug. It would do absolutely nothing to an angel - aside perhaps cause some sort of stomach upset - but oh would it feel cathartic to at least do it. Except that Aziraphale’s kitchen only had boring things in it like cocoa powder, cinnamon and sugar, so there went the idea. At least, Beelzebub was gone when he walked back out with the mugs; one less headache to deal with.

Three minutes later, with Gabriel making it loudly known how much he was enjoying his first go at hot chocolate, Crowley’s headache was worsening and he'd sincerely rather face the entire Dark Council and possibly Satan himself. That and… and… where had Aziraphale gone?

“Aziraphale?” he called out, and was about to follow up with ‘can I throw him out of the window just once’ when Aziraphale called back, somewhere upstairs.

“Coming! I was just getting some clothes!”

“... Clothes?”

“Well, he can’t keep wearing that,” Aziraphale’s voice replied, clearly referring to the bland and blindingly white scrivener uniform Gabriel was wearing. “So I’m getting him better clothes.”

“Define better, angel.”

“Not as blinding to look at.”

“All right. I’ll concede that point.”

Gabriel didn’t seem terribly keen to swap his uniform for the clothes Aziraphale offered him - ‘Muriel said I should be proud of it’, apparently - but he was convinced with the argument it would make him less noticeable to humans.

“And besides, things get stained here, and getting stains out of white clothes is a nightmare,” Aziraphale had added.

“Unless you find a demon to miracle stains away for you,” Crowley muttered, and Aziraphale had the galls to grin at him while Gabriel finally took the clothes and changed into them. Right there on the spot.

“Just for future reference, you need to pass off as human for a bit,” Aziraphale was telling him, handing him the tie on. “And humans usually go somewhere… private… before changing clothes.”

“Oh. What’s somewhere private?”

“Well, it’s… someplace where no one else can come in. You know, a spot all of your own.”

“We don’t have those in Heaven.”

“Ah, quite right. Well, I have one upstairs. Your bedroom, for now.”

“What’s a bedroom?”

“It’s… a room. With a bed in it.”

“Great! What’s a bed?”

“Ah, I think I will just show you, Jibree-- huh. Actually, that’s a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?”

Gabriel blinked. “What’s a mouthful?”

“Your name. Jibreel.”

“... Isn’t your name Aziraphale?”

Well, Crowley had to grudgingly admit, point for Gabriel 2.0 and his one brain cell. However, Aziraphale was admirably quick to recover. “That’s why people here call me Mr. Fell. That, and because they think I’m human. And you’re supposed to be incognito here, too, so would you mind terribly if we called you… uh…” His eyes wandered to the closest bookcase, paused on a book. “Jim.”

The being that had once been Archangel Gabriel, the Angel of Revelation, God’s Messenger, Herald of Visions, capable of speaking in all tongues known and unknown plus some Crowley honestly thought he’d made up himself just to look clever, frowned as he tried to focus on pronouncing the incredibly difficult name Aziraphale had just suggested.

“Jim?” he repeated, as though trying out a tongue twister.

Unfortunately, Aziraphale was too polite to point out how stupid that made him look, and just smiled brightly. “Yes, Jim! Short for James. Or Jibreel. Close enough, no?”

“Jim,” Gabriel repeated, this time surer, and grinned back. “I like it!”

“Brilliant! So, just until you’re able to remember more, you’re Jim, my new assistant. Now, let me show you upstairs…”

As Aziraphale led Gabriel to the room upstairs, Crowley groaned and went to pour himself a glass of something that was most definitely hot chocolate. He downed it in a single gulp and looked up towards the ceiling. It took him only moments to find Beelzebub’s spy fly, and scoffed. “Look, I’m not kicking him into the Thames inside a sack weighted down with bricks, as you can see,” he sneered. “I’m tolerating his presence. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The fly made a strange motion in mid-air, going down and then back up quickly in something that with some imagination - which Crowley had never lacked - could look like shrug.

“Someday you’ll have to tell me what the absolute fuck did make you think the Archangel Fucking Gabriel was worth all this hassle,” Crowley added, only to receive a few brief buzzes in response. Crowley had never been particularly fluent in fly, but he could get the message well enough. None of your damn business.

If only it had stayed none of his business, Crowley thought as the fly then went up the stairs as well, to make sure Gabriel wouldn’t stay out of its sight too long. He watched it go, sighed, and took another shot.

***

What this was all about, Muriel decided, was rescuing Jibreel.

Yes, it was a rescue mission. And also an investigation. A rescue-investigation-mission. They’d find out what had happened to Jibreel, and where he was now, and bring him back to Heaven safe and sound. Easy peasy. No one would even know he had been gone. No reason to get anyone in trouble.

And of course they would find him, because they had clues. There was a cemetery, and this building called The Resurrectionist, and the face of someone they had never seen before but who was definitely important. And the drawing of a fly, which they guessed was probably not that important but still, a clue.

It wasn’t a lot to go by, but it was enough to tell Muriel one thing: Jibreel had been on Earth, and at least two of those drawings were of places on Earth. Why had he done that? Was he remembering things? Was he trying to leave them a message? Was it both?

Muriel frowned at the drawings scattered on the desk. Surely, if they found out where on Earth those places were, they’d find more clues. That was how an investigation usually worked. And now that they had the handbook about Earth - fine, maybe a little outdated, but how much could things possibly have changed since 1923? - surely they would find out in no time. If needed, they could ask the locals. They’d go as a human police officer. The handbook said humans talk a lot to police officers. It also said it was a dumb thing to do without a lawyer, whatever that was, but Muriel was still certain it would work.

It has to. I want Jibreel to be back safe. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble.

For a moment, Muriel considered aborting their plan and turning to the Archangels, after all. They had almost done so, but while on the way to their floor they heard someone muttering that both Archangel Michael and Archangel Uriel were in the most awful mood, and they’d quickly reconsidered. Muriel didn’t want to worsen anyone’s mood, and they were pretty sure telling them that they had lost the angel put under their wing would… likely not improve it, to say the least. And they could be scary when angry.

In the end, they’d decided there was no reason to bother them. They’d go to Earth, follow the clues, find Jibreel, and bring him back before anyone even noticed they were gone. Yes. There. A solid plan.

What could possibly go wrong?

***

“Lord Beelzebub. A word?”

“Any chance that word is going to be ‘take a holiday, we got everything sorted’?”

“That’s several words,” Dagon pointed out.

“Sharp as always,” Beelzebub muttered, and sat back on their throne with a grunt. “Let’s have several words, then. What is it?”

Dagon cleared her throat. “Well. While you were away conducting dubious business, there has been some… information.”

Beelzebub tilted their head. “Some information,” they repeated, as though they didn’t know what that meant.

“Yes. Whispers, you see, not necessarily something to give credence to, but--”

Oh, for Satan’s sake. They were really, really, really not in the mood to do the usual song and dance alluding at a grapevine that was not supposed to exist. “So, Michael called you,” Beelzebub said, rolling their eyes. Taken aback by the direct statement, Dagon made a choking noise.

“I mean-- if I had realized whose number it was--”

“Spare me the usual scene, you’ve had her number longer than I did,” Beelzebub huffed, then leaned their head against the backrest of their throne with a thunk. “Let me guess. The call was to whine about how difficult I am being with the Armageddon background talks.”

“Not exactly in those terms, but… yes.”

“Did she mention that they no longer have a Supreme Archangel?”

Dagon nodded. “She said Gabriel was assigned to a different, higher duty.”

Oh, a higher duty, sure. Beelzebub made a mental note to tear out Michael’s throat with their teeth should they get close enough to, and scoffed. “They’re hiding something, surely. The role of Supreme Archangel has never been vacant before. You’ll understand why I am unwilling to entertain background talks with the other side refusing to show their hand.”

“We don’t always show our hand, either.”

“Well, duh. This is Hell. We’re untrustworthy by definition. They’re the ones with the shiny PR about honesty being a virtue, despite being just as rotten as we are. No reason to complain if they’re held to their own standards. And why are they suddenly pressing so hard? It makes me wonder if they know something we don't. Perhaps an advantage they are eager to use against us."

"An... advantage?" Dagon repeated, but the way she narrowed her eyes showed clearly that the argument was working. It was easy, relying on the general and perfectly justified distrust towards Heaven's motive.

"Would explain the sudden rush, no? And I for one I am in no rush to fall into a trap - I'd rather wait for them to show their hand. Besides,” Beelzebub added, leaning forward, elbows on their knees. “I find it insulting.”

“Insulting?”

“They expect us to deal with anything other than the Supreme Archangel. How dare they think so lowly of us? Like we’d lower ourselves to talk with just about anyone? May as well send us a scrivener,” Beelzebub growled, and was pretty satisfied to see Dagon was bristling, too. They’d always known what buttons to press with her. And the rest of the Dark Council, really.

“Of course. Of course, the insult cannot stand.”

Beelzebub gave a grimace which was a good enough approximation of a smile, flies crawling behind their teeth. “So, there you have it. They either explain what is truly going on, or they choose a new Supreme Archangel to lead the background talks for Armageddon. Let Michael know it won’t be them to dictate the terms.”

Any seeds of doubt Michael may have planted in Dagon’s mind were clearly gone, going by the eager nod he responded with. “At once, my Lord,” she said, and left the throne room.

Beelzebub groaned, alone once again, and looked up at some of the flies buzzing above their head. “We don’t have a lot of time, do we?” they murmured, and didn’t really need a reply.

***

“... I am really not sure what you expect me to do with this information.”

“You want Armageddon to happen, no? So that we can settle the score once and for all?”

“Of course I do, we all can’t wait to destroy you utterly in battle--”

“And we’re offering you the chance to try. Not that you’ll succeed, but you only get a fair shot at trying once Beelzebub stops dragging their feet for no reason whatsoever.”

Leaning back against his chair, Furfur rolled his eyes and looked at the wall ahead. There was an old poster on it, with the portrait of some poet who’d somehow wandered into Hell before even dying a very long time ago. He had caused quite a bit of ruckus before he’d been kicked back to Earth. Now they had posters about him, with a red cross over his face and the writing Dante Alighieri, Not Allowed right beneath. Although, Furfur was reasonably sure, he had probably been dead for a long time and no longer a threat.

“Lord Beelzebub does nothing for no reason, Ariel.”

“Uriel.”

“My apologies,” Furfur replied, not in the least apologetic. “... Very well. I don’t really know what to do with this information, if it’s true at all--”

“Archangels do not lie, demon.”

“Yes, and the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Either way, I know someone who might be interested in knowing this. So I’ll pass it along and whatever happens, happens. No guarantees. Have a miserable day,” he added, and ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Archangels, Furfur thought, starting to dial Shax’s number. They’re always so unbearably pretentious.

***

[Back to Chapter 3]

#good omens #ineffable bureaucracy #ineffable husbands #archangel gabriel #beelzebub #crowley #aziraphale #muriel #archangel michael #archangel uriel #come what may

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