#like I know if I see a scorpion to just catch it in a jar and put it outside | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zackcrazyvalentine · 3 years

Note

Hiyo! This is gonna be a bit specific so i hope you dont mind haha;;

Would it be alright to request for HC's for Mammon, Beel and Belphie(if you only take one char per request then Mammon's fine!) with a GN! reader, where in the reader is extremely obssessed with bug critters? Like tarantulas, moths, all that jazz and they often have a lotta them in their room

Im a big bug lover myself but it often freaks people out when i show them a beetle i caught but honestly its just pretty funny to me more than anything haha

Sorry for this long ask!! And take care~☆

Oh~ this is an interesting prompt :o

I myself am squeamish with bugs, but very much respect enthusiasts and entomologists!

Without further ado, here’s your request!!

-- -- --

😈💛 Mammon 💰💸

“Yo... think we can sell these to witches for some cash? Y’kow, for their rituals and generally to keep as pets? Think ’bout- OW, HEY!!”

This one I see recoiling back once you show him a bug. Doesn’t matter if it’s trapped in a jar, or held by your hands, he will get surprised if the critter is shoved in his face

Back in the Devildom, if you ever wandered out and somehow caught one of the unique dangerous bugs within, he would freak out and worry about your safety

“WTF [Name], put that down!! Its bite/sting is dangerous and hurts a lot! PUT IT DOWN!” “Relax, Mammon, your panic will distress it and provoke it to attack! I’ve got this.”

However, in the first weeks of your stay with them, he won’t care at all. Remember how he acted all irritated and mad when you were lumped onto him, right? Yeah, that’s it

Things change when Lucifer gave a stern warning, in his own Lucifer way, to keep you safe at all times

“Drop that, you don’t want to anger it” “How many times do I need to tell you to stop with that?! Pesky human..” “Oi, ya dumb mortal! Hands off, no pets allowed!”

Little “I’m not interested” warning will be given, which then morph to “Not worried about you but in reality I very much am” as time goes on and he warms up to you (damn tsundere, this one)

Once he grows fond of you and a friendship is established (and maybe other feelings surface), he will issue the more panic filled warnings

But otherwise, he will admire the little things. The ones with shiny exoskeletons and vibrant colors immediately catch his eye

He will eventually look forward to see what new friends you bring, even more so once you go over to the human world

Just...keep an eye out for his typical Mammon shenanigans of taking stuff to sell. He knows witches who would absolutely love to have some of your critters so, watch out.

You may find him baby talking to a particular bug he’s fond of from time to time (Mammon and the cat audio drama~)

Takes some time for him to stop being squeamish and handle the bugs

Totally the one to look at whichever critter, point at it and go “haha...Lucifer/[any other of his brothers]” (he may have led you to name a scorpion ‘Asmo’)

If he sees accessories or keychains that are bug related, he’ll buy them for you “D-Don’t take it out of context! It just reminded me of [bug] and thought of getting it… totallydidn’tremindmeofyou,no”

Any colorful and/or shiny insects interest him, but I can see him loving centi- and millipedes (and pill bugs too, but those are crustaceans aha)

👿❤️ Beelzebub 🍔🤤

“Ah, I can do that too!” “Beel, don’t! My papers-!!” *cue him buzzing his wings and all documents are blown away*

At the beginning of your friendship? He’d just be like “...cool…” and keep doing whatever he was doing

Not one to flinch away from the bugs (he welcomes them)

Tell him ants or X bug/s are exceptionally strong, and he’ll begin to take interest in your bug keeping shenanigans

He feels for them, the strength of the tiny things. He’s one half of the youngest brothers, and very physically capable, one could say he relates to them (so tiny, but oh so strong = youngest brother, but oh so buff)

His signature animal is a fly, claims he has a special connection to bugs, but this “sense” was previously not explored… until you came to his life~

Out of the three, I think Beel will be the one to get on with the idea faster, even helping you take care of the bugs. Will also go out of his way to catch a particularly eye catching one for you.

“[Name], look! This one was hanging out near me/was on my path when going somewhere, thought of you and caught it” (insert Reader’s heart full of soft feelings for this teddy bear)

He’s the enabler of you keeping dangerous Devildom bugs. He can do the catching if you’re afraid of getting hurt

Just say the word and he’ll help you clean enclosures, feed critters, free them back to nature, anything

Honestly, you may very well wake up a hidden talent and surprise hobby of his

Please, introduce this boy to any and every bug you come across in the human world! Show him pictures and tidbits of information about all of them, but more so the ones you previously told him are so strong

If you introduce him to an ant farm, he will sit down and eat his snacks while observing the colony closely

Not afraid to handle your bugs at all, likes the sensation of their little legs crawling up his arms

Says he doesn’t have favorites, but absolutely does (he sneaks his favs snacks from time to time, it’s so cute) Beetles and ants are in his top 5

Mixed feelings about entomophagy (insect eating)

Congratulations! You now have a bug enthusiast buddy to fan with!

👿💜 Belphegor 🛏️💤

“That one’s fuzzy… Can I pet it, hold it maybe?”

Belphie is pretty chill in general, so I don’t see him making a fuzz whenever a bug is brought up to his face

He may act indifferent to your obsession at first, perhaps Beel’s curiosity rubs off on him eventually

Very curious about your moths and tarantulas, and bees (when you get the chance to introduce him to them)

He’s drawn to the fuzzy fluffy bugs because they look comfortable to pet and hold (and sleep with lol)

Beware: DO NOT wake him up to introduce him to a bug, he WILL be cranky. On the same note, don’t even DARE let a critter crawl on his body while sleeping, won’t hesitate to exterminate the thing

This one… edgy boy… The one to warm up and love your arachnids (technically not insects, but let’s let it slide~ remember you’re talking to a biology nerd here, me)

Introduce him to the deadly insects of your word and he will repay the favor by teaching you about any highly dangerous Devildom bugs he knows about

Butterfly magnet. Let your moths and butterflies free in the room and most likely, they’ll land on him. His calm demeanour seems to attract them

Along with Beel, he will invite yourself to you room to look at the fluttering wings of butterflies “They lull me to sleep”

Perhaps the one that gained a soft spot in his heart is the tarantula. Relates to it in a sense: people are afraid to approach it when it’s actually quite chill (when not provoked)

If you have Madagascar roaches… This was one of the first times you saw him flinch and let out a (very monotone) yelp, the hissing spooked him good

He may buy a blanket with bug patterns on it because it reminds him of you, sleeps with it when missing you

He’s more of taking pictures and sending them to you if cool bugs, spiders, and even snails cross his path. He will text a “Reminds me of you” “Cool bug” “Is this a bug?” along with the pics

Up in the human world: PLEASE catch a jar of fireflies for this boy! His eyes will light up at the amazing little natural light bulbs trapped within

Will want to take some fireflies back to the Devildom bc they remind him of the night sky and its stars

A very chill boy towards your obsession, but will eventually encourage you to keep doing what you love

Thank you for your request~! This was great to think about, if I do say so myself Hope it is to your liking!

You take care as well, anon~ ❤️

147 notes · View notes

herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

I'd die for you, come kill me

Kinktober Day 11: restrained

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

A/N: This one goes for my good friend followers celebration. So happy for your milestone, @msmarvelouswinchester! Divider by @talesmaniac89.

@stillintheimpala said: i have a fic idea. demon!dean stuck in a chair on handcuffed to a bed with those demon proof handcuffs. he's completely at your mercy. you get to dom him. (I put ropes instead of handcuffs because of the gif)

Prompt: Remember how I said I'd die for you.

Warnings: angry sex, p in v, riding, restraints, power play, smangst, angst, kind of hopefully ending (?), demon!dean acts like demon!dean

“Where is he?”

Sam sucked in a breath, moving his shoulder uncomfortably as he straightened his posture. The youngest Winchester's features contorted into a grimace, and you couldn't tell if it was because of the look on your face or him jarring his dislocated arm. “He's in the dungeon, but Y/N-”

“He isn't himself. I know that. Kinda noticed when he threw me against the wall and said he couldn't wait to rip my throat out with his teeth.” You gave Sam a humorless grin before you gestured to the wound on your shoulder. “This is a good reminder as well.”

“We'll cure him.” Sammy nodded at you, wrapping his words with faith and determination; he was always a believer.

You arched your eyebrows. “Then what are you waiting for?”

You two were still standing in the living room as Dean's howl rushed through the air. He sounded more like a beast than a man, yet he was smack dab in the middle of those polarized states. He was human enough to know where to strike and animal enough to relish in the attack.

Sam's gaze softened on yours.

“I know he hurt you. He hurt both of us, but Dean is my brother. I can do it alone. You don't need to-”

“Sam, he ran away once, and you just got your arm yanked out of your socket. You won't be able to fight him. You need backup,” you interrupted him. Despite your conclusion being completely rational, there was more to it than that, but Sam didn't need to know about it yet. “Besides, it's Dean.”

The hunter glanced at you. Gentle eyes watching your jaw harden, he pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay.”

Dean's demonic self had been throwing insults like a man feeding his dog shattered glass. He was full of them, not caring about hiding his satisfaction when he hits yours and Sam's weak spots.

A couple of seconds ago, he had called you an easy pussy that saved him the job of having to go out and get some. That display rewarded him with a thicker needle that pierced much deeper than it needed to. The pure human blood spread into his veins as a holy wash, like soap over a flesh wound. Dean growled in pain and went quiet for a while.

Your eyes abandoned the demon for once, directed now to his brother. Sam's earthy brown eyes were drawn in concern, mouth sketched into a frown. His healthy arm was onto his shoulder, obviously physically hurting.

“Sam, go. I can do it. It’s just two more needles. He'll probably pass out once it's done,” you pleaded in an attempt to catch Sam's rational side that always saw the order in chaos. His hazel orbs settled on you, and you knew he didn't want to leave his brother. You can't blame him for that. You didn’t either, but if Dean was in his right mind, he'd want that. And you needed some time alone with this demon version of your boyfriend. “Please.”

You didn’t know if it was something in your cracking voice or if the fact his brother regaining control meant he’d have even harsher words to spit, but when the tall man’s eyes swept from you to his brother and back, he sighed. In that moment, you knew he accepted it.

“If he doesn't pass out…”

“I call you right away. Don't worry, and please take some meds for your pain.” You offered some tenderness to him in the middle of the violence through a lovingly smile. In a matter of seconds, the only traces of Sammy in the room were the boot-clad clamor of his footsteps growing quieter and quieter.

“Now you have me all to yourself, sweetheart. What are you planning to do?”

The lopsided grin was still attached to his face, and those were still his teeth. Still, something about Dean's smile made you want to rip him apart with your nails. How did he let this happen? How did the situation escalate like this? How did everything get so bad so fast?

“Shut up,” you hissed through your teeth, boots clicking on the floor as you approached him. Dean glanced at you shamelessly; the pretty little bruise on your skin proving that he had succeeded in breaking you. It twisted his guts in both good and bad ways — the bittersweet contradiction among lovers.

“Feisty, huh? I always liked that on you. Who would guess that you were a bottom in bed?” Dean appeared to find your fury entertaining as if he relished any emotion he could instigate inside you.

“I said shut up.”

“Or what? You are gonna sting me with a flimsy syringe needle like I did to you with my cock? Go ahead, sweetheart.”

The idiotic nickname burned your insides. As your and Dean's relationship got more serious, he'd stop calling you that. You weren't just a fling or a woman he'd leave the next day, and the Winchester only called you that either sarcastically or during an argument now. Was this how the demon saw you? Just another sweetheart?

Dean smirked at your quietude, poking the bear once again. “What? Demon got that smart tongue of yours? It's embarrassing, really. You get all worked up, pretending to be that tough gal, but you can't hurt me. You didn't even fight back when I tried to kill you. How weak is that? You’ve always been a liability. Just another woman I had to protect to get inside her.”

You warned him, the words coming out more like a groan than anything else: “Shut up!”

Yet, Dean persisted. He had discovered your weakness, and he couldn't wait to see how much you could take. You'd end up giving in to him, thrashing headfirst into a fight, and he'd escape again. The demon was counting on that. “A waste of time, really. At least you had a nice pussy, but I scratched it open. It's useless now, just like you.”

The dismissal in his words laced with the cynical chuckle that left his mouth made you hit your breaking point.

“I TOLD YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You grabbed a syringe and stung Dean like a scorpion, right in the jugular. He wanted to set you on fire? Good, you'd make sure he got burnt too. “I said I'd die for you. Remember how I said I'd die for you? And you tried to kill me.” You grunted, throwing the empty needle away. Dean's normally forest green eyes went black as howls of outrage escaped his mouth. The blood of saints that coursed through his body was a good way to either turn the beast into a man again or kill him completely. Knowing this, he screamed and struggled in the chair, as desperate as a rat stuck in a mousetrap. It made you doubt the cure. Perhaps a good thing couldn't save him now, the whispers of sulfur that colored his heart black too intrinsic to eradicate without killing the host. You couldn't bring yourself to care about it now. The demon was suffering, and he deserved it. You wanted your own hurt ricochet back to where it came from: him. “Now you are sitting there talking about me like I'm your bitch or something like that, but I'm not. I can take care of myself, and I don't need you. I chose to stay here.”

Dean blinked, and suddenly everything was in place again. His face softened like it usually did when you two were alone, and an actual smile conquered his features. All the oxygen in your body caught in your throat.

“You're right. You are a strong, independent woman, and I should feel lucky to get myself a keeper like you.” His voice filled the dungeon with light-hearted relief. Your cheeks were hurting as you scooted closer to him. “I missed you so much.”

He was saying all you wanted to tell him the minute he left. Your eyes got glossy, and you threw yourself on his lap, clutching to him like devout patron to her bible. Dean was here. He came back to you.

A quiet gasp of praise left your mouth: “Dean-”

He interrupted whatever you were about to say, replacing your words with a kiss. A sweet one — sweeter than anything you might imagine. It was the kind of kiss shared for two lovers in the dark, recognizing each other’s bodies by touch alone. You, of course, allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of belonging. You shouldn't have. You should never just jump into someone, or you might drown. It's hard to find corpses in a black river.

Yet, your soul was tied to the righteous sinner, so you kept pressing your lips to his while he devoured your mouth softly.

“Sammy doesn't understand, Y/N,” he said. When he pulled away, you nuzzled into his neck. The heated tang to his murmured sentiments remained there, but his voice, less gruff than usual, fooled you. “I finally don't have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I'm free. I never thought I'd be happy after that night…” Dean wore the façade, even gulping at the thought. He didn't know if it was because the human blood was slowly coursing into the core of his being, but he wouldn't waste time on it. “But I can now. We can run away together, leave Sam behind. Just me and you.”

What did you expect? He was a demon. The blame was on you for expecting repentance from the ashes of hellfire. This isn't a fairytale where the hero suddenly is hit by true love and everything is solved with the ultimate kiss. This is a hunter’s tale, and there's just one ending for those stories: the prey dying.

You lifted your head. “Dean would never leave Sam behind.”

Dean burst into laughter as if your hope was some sort of funny joke. He adjusted his hips in the chair, smirking at you with cruelty.

“Bet it almost got you. I could see your eyes shining with hope. You were ready to get on your knees and suck my cock. You’d be screaming Dean, Dean, Dean, and inevitably fall for some stupid lies.” He shook his head with disappointment. “You're too easy, Y/N.”

“Who do you think you are?” The indignancy in your tone only drew a malicious grin out of Dean. This was too good. He could feel his cock hardened in his pants. He might fuck you before killing you only to make good use of his time.

“I'm a demon. What about you? Oh, wait! I know the answer to that one.” He licked his lips, savoring the moment. “You're a little-”

Smack.

The palm of your hand met Dean's cheek harshly, transferring some of your anger into a red mark on his right cheek. The eldest Winchester's head was tilted to the side from the impact. He clenched his jaw before turning his glare at you, eyes back in black as he spoke: “You shouldn't have done that.”

Every syllable that left his tongue was imbued with a threatening crimson rage, but you didn't care. Not now.

You weren't scared of him.

“You shouldn't be a demon, but here we are,” you remarked, summoning a smarmy leer and wearing it like one of his flannels. “Shut up. I know you're not my Dean. You are just all he hates in himself wrapped with his skin. You're disgusting, cruel, and selfish.” It didn’t make any sense for your body to be as heated up as it was, but it was. And Dean didn’t care. Fuck him. “You’ve spent so long aiming at our Achilles’ heel that you forgot you have yours too. Stupid.” You chortled, grinding your hips on his. At this point, both your panties and emotional stability were ruined. “Look at you, all hard for the girl basically torturing you with poison, huh?”

“You-” He attempted to speak, to put you down so he can climb over you. You stopped him with a hand inside his pants.

“Language, Dean,” you groaned at him. It wasn't unusual for you and Dean to blow off some steam with sex, either after a fight or a hunt, but, this? It’s a whole new level of fucked. Yet somehow, your pussy didn't seem to mind, and neither did his cock. You got his length free, and his stiffened cock slapped his clothed belly. “I don't wanna hear something that makes me angry because if I get mad, then I won't let you come inside my pretty pussy. Understood?”

He groaned in response, trying to move his hands to show you who the real alpha was here, but the rope kept him in place. Silence lanced through the air because you knew you didn't want to waste time on something as exciting as foreplay; he did not deserve that, and you didn't want this. You just lifted your red skirt and slid your panties to the side. Your pussy swallowed his cock painfully slow.

The demon that ate your lover didn't offer mumbled protests at the fact you were still wearing clothes. Your Dean always tried to get any piece of fabric away because he liked to see all of you. This Dean, though, gulped and glared at you. Pleasure flushed his cheeks only he can’t deny the physical pleasure. It’s clear that, even as a demon, he could never reject the carnal appeal of your body and your sweet, soaked pussy. Hands pinned behind his back with the restraints, you two in the middle of a big demon symbols on the ground, he was completely at your mercy. He was helpless.

Dean bucked his hips to get all of his hardness inside you right way, to show both you and himself that he still had the power here. You barely blinked before moving your hips up, restricting him further entrance into your cunt. Dean was always eager when it came to sex, but you knew this wasn't about just fucking you anymore. You were in control.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you murmured in an increasingly sultry bite: “I'm the one making the rules here. Take it or leave it.”

“Fucking a demon? That's why you told Sammy to go with all the crap about caring for his arm?” the former hunter remarked. You and he both knew Dean wouldn't — couldn’t, not with half his cock being squeezed by your tightness — leave your pussy, but he still very much had the capacity to bite.

“Unlike you, I worry about the people I love.”

“I don't love,” he snarled, watching you swallow the malcontented lump in your throat. “Hear that? I don't love you.”

“Then at least be useful and fuck me,” you groaned, finally resting wholly in his lap with all of his dick inside of you. Dean whimpered, overthrown by the sensation of your heady tightness encompassing his cock. He tried to break free again, starved to grab your thighs, your ass, any part of you he could get his hands on, but the rope limited his range of motion. The raw polyester and nylon mix around his wrists was a contrast to the warmth of his lap. His eyes closed, blinking only back into wakeful blackness because of your promise disguised as a hissed threat: “No, forget it. I'll be the one fucking you.”

There was something delightfully mercurial about the way you rode Dean. The dungeon once filled by his pained screams had now become the perfect studio for your flexing thighs slapping against his, your breathless moans camouflaging the raw hurt of your heart, and the unique sound of Dean's cock sunk to impossible degrees inside your needy cunt. He leaned in for more.

This was no longer about the sexual release for him. It was for the tiny part of Dean that always craved an order to follow. It was the small piece of him that craved carrying the weight of responsibility heavy on his back like the burden Atlas had to bear. It was the liberation of the heavy chains that held him down since he was a child, even if his hands were — appropriately enough — tied behind his back. As a demon, he didn’t have to worry, and neither did he when submissive to you. For you, it was expelling your revenge on this devilish version of the man you loved. He had it coming.

“I hate you. I hate having to save you. I hate caring about you.” You huffed, nails sinking in his clothed shoulder. The ghost of your touch was enough to make his dick twitch inside you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as the goosebumps rose your spine, and every time you sunk on his cock brought you closer to collapse. All Dean did was to praise your name with a moan. “I hate how good you feel inside me.” You sobbed, increasing your rhythmic and going fast and rougher on his cock. Your walls were tightening around his dick. Your untouched clit rubbed against the fabric, but it didn't matter. This wasn't about pleasure. “I hate that it’s you and not him.” That's not my Dean.

That caught his attention. Dean’s shoulders grew rigid. He was ready to catch a glimpse of warring emotions of hatred and disgust on your face, but he wasn't prepared for the crushingly forlorn refraction of loss and dispair he found there.

The knight of hell should feel satisfied. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Destroying you, turning the woman the human version of himself loved into a walking catastrophe so you wouldn't dare bring him back.

Apparently, the priorities changed. Maybe the blood was really effective, slowly disintegrating his armor into flesh again. It was the only explanation for all the humanly emotions he was experiencing.

Dean felt the conflict building as if hurting you was physically tearing him apart. His eyes contracted into livid green again, shining like the moon with tears he didn't dare drop. He was still a demon, bratty heart or not.

Yet, there was only so far a man could control himself. His lips were treacherous for your name, echoed more like a plea than anything: “Y/N-”

“Shut up! I don't wanna hear your voice. You said I'm your little bitch, nothing but a whore to you, huh? Guess what, asshole. You are my bitch now, and you’re gonna like it.” The little monster in you hummed happily to your authority, glad to finally punish someone for the incitement of agony inside your guts. You closed your eyes, riding Dean ferociously.

Dean Winchester might have been a cage to your feelings, but at least it was golden.

You said you'd be here. You said you wouldn't leave me. Your thoughts corroded your wearied heart as you tried to fuck them away with Dean's weeping cock. You could feel he was close, and you were constantly hitting your G-spot with eagerness, your sweat and harrowed feelings gushing over. You said I didn't need to leave. You said we'd find a way through this. You lied, you lied, you lied.

I trusted you, and you destroyed me. You hurt me and Sam, and I can't even blame you for it. He knew all your enemies started out as friends. He knew how much it would hurt you if he got the mark. He knew how it would break you if he said those words, demon or not. And you know you can't put this blame on Dean’s shoulders, but you were suffocating and needed fresh air. The sacrificial game wasn’t always a virtuous act. So, you dropped yourself down hard, appreciating the way his cock hit the right spot over and over again. It forced your body to feel good despite your restless mind. I hate you. You made me go crazy. And I miss you.

What was the saying? Man makes the promise, and the demon makes him break it.

Dean's fixated you. He wanted to get free of his cuffs and cup your cheeks, see you lean into his touch so he could wipe away the tears that started to fall and haven't stopped in minutes. He wanted to tell you he was here, not completely, but he was here. He wanted to apologize and make it better, but he didn't. His white skin was burning red because of how hard he was trying to move his hands, hair moving by your movements and his. The semi-human groaned like the remainder of the beast clutching his strings when he hit his orgasm and spread his seed inside you. You whined like a broken toy as you came all over his cock.

It felt good, for a while. It was nice, feeling good.

You stayed there a little more, gaining control over yourself while he softened inside of you. Dean was doing the same in an attempt to stifle his human emotions from surfacing. He wasn't going to be weak anymore. He couldn't be because for once in his life, he hadn’t hated himself.

You coughed, using the chair to hoist yourself to your feet. His cum dripped from your pussy, dampening his still-clothed thigh. You sniffed, grimacing a little when you noticed that your face wasn't wet with sweat. You’d been crying.

That only made you madder at yourself.

“Fuck it,” you groaned, putting his dick back into his pants before zipping him up.

Dean smirked in a final attempt to turn the table and get on your nerves again. “That's what we just did.”

You didn't waste more of your heart on him. Taking the last needle, you sunk the devil into his sharp skin and pressed the plunger with all the fervor of pulling a gun's trigger. He screamed like the rush of humanity flowing into him was a shot to the heart.

Your legs were trembling when you threw the object away and hugged yourself, focused on Dean's fragile body in front of you.

He looked down, eyes shutting a few times as if he was waking up before lifting his head to look at you.

“Y/N?” His voice was back to its gruff drag, but it was carrying a strand of vulnerability and care that he had only ever directed at you. Dean frowned, confusedly watching you and the place around you both, not to mention himself. “Y/N, what happened?”

He didn't remember anything. He didn't remember the terrible things he’d done. He didn't remember the words said.

You gulped, the back of your hand pressed against your wet cheeks. “I'm going to get Sam.”

The demon may have gotten teary-eyed, but the human Dean was the one letting the tears slide down his cheeks as you turned around and left, almost running to get away from him. He didn't even know why.

Leave a comment and REBLOG. Feedback is magic!

TAGS ON MY REBLOG

WANNA BE TAGGED? SEND ME AN ASK/DM

285 notes · View notes

designatedbreadbox · 3 years

Text

Man in The Mirror Pt. 2

Part 1 is here Part 3 is here.

Every sense of grace he once displayed towards you was gone. He stumbled slightly, as if he was new to the idea of using his legs. That didn't deter the vicious anger in his eyes, the way his nose wrinkled, or the snarl he directed towards you.

*Despite saying "errand boy", you are still gender neutral here in the fic.*

☆ Wordcount: 4.9k

Asmo looked straight into your eyes, sighing sadly. "I know I was once beautiful. I know that I will never look that way again. It was a hard realization I took awhile to get to; the paints on the walls was my last act of defiance against my death."

You took in a sharp inhale of air before blurting out your question. "How did you die? If you don't mind answering, anyway..."

Asmo played with the comb. "I had to get my good looks on a canvas, so I was painting myself using a mirror. However, I heard a loud crash and smelled smoke. So, I opened the door to see what was going on when a burst of fire rushed at me. I backed away immediately, but fell into the mirror, which knocked over a large, open jar of paint I had. The fire grew, and it didn't take long for me to catch on fire. I swore I closed it. . ."

You genuinely didn't know what to say to that. Dying by oil paints wasn't a way you would've thought was possible to die from.

Then again, oil paints have turpentine, and that's flammable. You shaked that dark thought away.

"That's horrible, Asmo. Truly, it is. But, if the door was open and you died in your art room, does that mean you could've left the room? The ginger- haired man said he couldn't leave the dining room or adjacent kitchen."

"Ginger. . .oh, you mean Beel. I obviously could, since I opened the door, right? I just didn't want anyone to see me."

A agreeing nod from you prompted him to continue.

"I want to thank you, though. You didn't have to do this for me. Or for Satan, either."

He opened his arms for a hug, one you happily obliged to. You hugged him tight, trying to convey as much comfort and support through a simple hug as possible.

He felt. . . smaller, somehow. Asmo was burnt, yes, but was he always this skinny? The brothers couldn't have starved in the house even with the lack of food, so what gives? He didn't look short either; average height at best, yet it feels like you slowly leaning into nothing.

Something clattered to the floor. Your arms stopped hugging Asmo and swung in on themselves. Opening your eyes, you saw Asmo wasn't there anymore, and his beautiful comb laid on the floor. You picked it, now getting a good look at it.

It was silver, and it had a giant scorpion on it. In the middle of the scorpion was a ruby carved into the shape of a heart, and a few tiny ones were placed at the end of its tail. The tail curved over the top of the comb to the other side; and while the comb was silver, the scorpion itself was black.

Putting it inside your backpack, you went back up the stairs, this time going to the left wing. That hallway had mirrors as well, but not enough for you to feel trepidatious when walking down it. You played limbo with the mirrors, seeing glimpses of him in them. You were crouching close to the floor to avoid a large, circular mirror when someone called out to you.

"Oi! There ya are, ya peasant! Thought ya could hide from me, did ya? Well, it isn't gonna happen!"

Straining to look over your shoulder, you barely spotted a white- haired man at the end of the right wing hallway.

'That must be Mammon,' you thought cautiously, 'Beel thought he was the only one to walk around the house freely.'

What started off as a jog escalated to a sprint as he booked it to where you were crouching. Panic filled your senses now as you forgot about the Man in The Mirror as you ran around the closest corner. Mammon's heels were clicking against the wood; terror painted your face as you realized slowly but surely, they were growing closer.

You didn't expect the door to work; and miraculously, it did. You ducked into the random room, trying to close it as softly as possible to avoid detection. The footsteps grew closer until they passed by your door. Seconds went by when Mammon shouted out to you.

"I know you're in there! I can wait out here as long~ as I need to to get ya! When I'm done with ya, ya gonna regret stealing from The Great Mammon!"

He continued monologuing, but you tuned him out as you turned on the flashlight and looked around the room.

Lucifer was now in his room, seeing nothing disturbed. He cursed at himself for not putting more mirrors here; then again, he couldn't have possibly prepared for himself to be trapped in a mirror. Luckily, Asmo had installed alot of mirrors in the right wing hallway. Sure, Lucifer was annoyed at that at first, but now it seemed like a blessing.

Lucifer wasn't even sure why he came here anyway. He couldn't touch anything; can't interact with his environment or brothers besides Mammon, Levi, and Belphie. He wasn't aware that Satan and Asmo had moved on with the help of MC. At this rate, he never will.

Shifting to the other mirror in his room, he saw the snide, mocking and rather ironic words that were engraved on his bedroom wall stare back at him.

Only Death will set you Free.

The words made no sense. He lured and killed people inside the house. Himself dying makes absolutely no sense, no matter what angle he looked at it. And there was no way in Hell he was going to kill his brothers.

They may not have heard it, but he promised them he would come back to them. He promised to save them from the despairingly, never- ending cycle of being trapped in this cursed house. He promised alot them of things when or if he was free of the mirrors.

Lucifer only hoped he can hold onto his promises.

Looking around the room, you spotted a medium sized table was near the bed, a stack of cards ontop of it. Getting a closer look at them, you noticed the design and pattern they had. There was a thin orange border, and a symbol that reminded you of a fisherman's hook was on it. Besides its design, the cards were a generic deck of cards; spades, ace, diamonds, hearts. A bookcase was near full of games of the century. To your left was a door.

Pulling the knob, you realized it was locked. Suspicion controlled your senses as you remembered about the key. It was worth a shot; Mammon was outside in the hall and you might as well try. It opened with a small, soft click.

You swung open the door to reveal. . . an extremely flustered and naked blue- haired man. He stood there stuttering, trying to get words to form; he was too embarrassed to look you in the eyes. The mental image of seeing someone randomly naked took a few seconds to process; you slapped a hand over your eyes and closed the door, half yelling an apology.

You waited a few minutes for him to come out and he did in some sort of cream- colored gown. Or was it a bathrobe? Neither of you spoke, a light blush tainting your cheeks. You let out a cough before speaking.

"So. . . what's your name? Are you Belphie?"

". . .N-no, my name is Levi. . . Belphie has dark blue hair."

"I-I see, thank you for clarifying."

" . . . "

The awkward conversation that tried to fill the silence was smothering. Him being naked in the bathroom still filled your head unfortunately, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. The best thing to do was to forget that ever happened as much as possible.

"So~ . . .how did ya die?" you asked bluntly.

He was already backed into a corner, so there was no point in lying. However, he refused, dodging the question. "Why are you here?"

Not the first time you've been asked that and you highly doubt it will be the last.

"I came here to see if the rumors of the house being haunted were true. Now that I know they are, I'm here trying to ease ya guys to the afterlife. . ."

"'Ease us into the afterlife'? We aren't some stupid sideplot in a fantasy book! Tch, what a hero complex."

He's not stubborn, but he isn't the definition of a great person to have a conversation with. He seemed awkward if anything; as if the idea of outsiders beyond the walls of the mansion scared him. Could be social anxiety, or a general dislike for people. Who knows.

"N-no. When I entered the mansion, the door locked behind me... I can't leave. And I already helped the blond one; Satan, was it?"

He looked skeptical. "Well good luck with that, errand boy. I'm going to stay here in the comfort of my room."

'You're not worried?' You huffed. 'You do realize that if I help everyone else, YOU'RE the one that's going to be left behind, right?'

You can see the cogs in his head turn as he slowly processes what you're saying. You lost a little respect for him, as you noted he didn't think of that. He turned his head away, still mulling over his current options. Finally, after what felt like a personal eternity, Levi spoke.

"I'll let you help me by getting something for me from Belphie's room. His room is close to mine." He said smugly, clearly enjoying this a little too much.

You weren't a violent person by any means, but if this continued, you were going to be. He didn't elaborate on what the item was, so when you get to enter Belphie's room, you're taking guesses as to what he wants. You gave him a mean look before exiting the room, taking a peek into one end of the hallway.

Lucifer barely saw the intruder behind Levi; a moment passed before the door was slammed shut. Levi put on a bathrobe before exiting the room. Lucifer didn't know what to feel; on one hand, this person was freeing his brothers from the rooms they were imprisoned in. On the other hand, they were disrupting everything in the house; he didn't want a repeat of the last time someone entered the house, thinking they could get away with trying to sell off their valuables.

Levi's room mainly lacked mirrors since he disliked having to look at himself in them. Lucifer shifted to the one mirror he DID have was a handheld one that rested on his bedside table. Unfortunately for him, it was facedown; meaning not only can he not see some part of the bedroom, but everything was muffled as well.

He heard Levi say something to you, and shortly after was a creak of the door. An even further muffled yelp escaped into the room with a soft thud. Lucifer assumed they were either tackled or killed by Mammon at this point. Not that he really cared either way; he just wanted you out of the house.

He shifted to the Belphie's room to check on him before going back to the attic. He knew there was nothing unturned in the attic he possible could access. That didn't deter him from trying, though.

You took a peek into end of the hallway and dumbly assumed Mammon had left. You closed the door behind and not a second passed before arms wrapped around you. You fell to the floor with a heavy thud, his weight ontop of you.

"I got ya know, peasant! Thought ya can hide from me, huh? Well, no one hides from The Great Mammon!"

"Wh- hey, get off me! Dude, get off of me! Get off! " You struggled to get him off of you. He was surprisingly strong, and it didn't help that your backpack was putting you at an awkward angle against the floor. He focused on pining your wrists down that he forgot to sit on top of you to stop your kicking legs. You reared a leg back before kicking him squarely in the chest, successfully getting him off you. You barely got to your feet before being sent back to the ground; now you had little room to move, trapped between him and the floor.

You slammed your hand against the floor. "What's your problem?!"

"MY problem! That's rich coming from someone who's runnin' around the place, stealin' OUR things!" His tone was laced with anger.

"Stealing? I'm not stealing anything!"

"Then what are ya doin', hm?"

"Doing tasks for you lot so you can all go to the afterlife! I need to do something for Levi before I can help Belphie!"

"L-levi. .?"

His entire demeanor changed; his weight was still flushed against you, but now he seemed somber. It was a complete 180 from his previous attitude. He stopped talking, and although you couldn't see his face, you got the sense that he was thinking of something.

"W- what about Levi?"

That snapped him back to reality. "Nothin'! It's nothin'! And it's none of ya business anyway!"

'It clearly isn't if you're dodging the subject!' An idea popped into your head. 'If you somehow could talk to Levi, would that make you feel better about. . .whatever it is has you concerned over him?'

"Huh? What do ya mean, talk to him?"

"If you get off me, I can show you. No funny business; scout's honor."

A few moments passed; he was thinking about your offer. Slowly, he got off of you, at the ready to bodyslam you against the floor should anything happen. You brushed whatever dust might've been on you, and opened Levi's bedroom while looking at him. Levi was his table, cards spread out on it; his eyes flickered between you and Mammon.

Mammon's eyes slowly filled with tears. Levi sat up straighter in his seat until he was standing. Levi walked out of the room to meet with Mammon in the hallway; they cried while hugging each other tightly. You felt happy for them, chest turning a little warm at the scene.

They buried their faces into each other's shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry, Levi! It's my fault ya died!"

"Huh? What are y-you talking about??"

"I locked ya in there after our dispute! I only meant it as a joke! I put the key on your table!"

A choked sob from Levi. "Normally, I would be angry, but after spending so much time by myself, I don't care right now."

You tried getting a word in, hate having to interrupt the touching moment. They ignored you, both still hugging each other; both were still crying. After a few minutes, you realized neither were going to give you the time of day to talk to you. You slowly backed away from them, then walked down the hall and around a corner.

Jiggling the handles of the doors, you noted the few doors that opened and the majority that didn't. As a surprise to no one, two doors were supply closests, and one appeared to be used for coats. Curiosity got the best of you, and you tried a few on; one was close to your size, but the rest didn't fit you. You dissapointedly put the coats back on the racks and closed the door.

Continuing further, one hallway seemed to be really burned down. Your shoes left slight imprints of where they were against the ashy carpet; like footprints in thin snow. Gingerly wiping a finger against a wall revealed that it had a thick coating of ash and dust, making your finger a little grimey.

Maybe the fire started here, you thought as you ventured down the hallway, yet there isn't anything here that looks like it could have started it.

Since the doors were old-fashioned, the peepholes allowed you to look inside the rooms. It was completely useless, though; most rooms were too dark to see in and those that had enough light looked wrecked inside. They had to be guest rooms since they all looked plain; nothing that would distinguish who lived in it. You were beginning to feel hopeless; the light outside dimmed, making the shadows that rested in the hallway grow. Hunger started to grow in your stomach and even though you brought food for yourself, you couldn't help but miss the food in the fancy dining room.

You ate what you had, rationing incase you needed some for later. It never dawned on you, but looking down, you realized that your footprints became more clear against the carpet. It didn't relate to the floor or footprints, but what Mammon said earlier had bothered you. He said he placed the key on Levi's table, but you found it in Asmo's room on the floor; you would've missed it had it not been for your flashlight. Obviously, someone had moved it, but from the brothers' you've met so far, their reactions and where they were confined to, no one had moved it. Now that you really thought about it, no one could've moved it; that means someone else was moved the key, and perhaps started the fire.

You made a face of disgust at that thought and took a peek into nearby door. Candles lit the room, and from what you could tell, someone was on the bed that had a monstrous amount of pillows. You quickly realized it was Belphie; there was no other person you haven't met yet that could possibly be him. You quietly jiggled the doorknob, trying not to wake him up. As expected, it remained locked, requiring a key you didn't have.

Your thought process was sent into a frenzy; Beel must still be waiting on you in the kitchen. You quickly turned the knobs and looked through the peepholes of the rest of the doors to find rooms that look like that'll open. Eventually, one did open; when you stepped inside, the air smelled dusty but crisp. Everything looked surprisingly clean, but the amount of mirrors was unsettling.

He moved in your peripheral vision and when you turned, you had to crouch to avoid a shot of something towards your head. No mirrors were at your current eye level, but there's tons if you were to stand up. You were forced to crawl to the nearest one, carefully removing it from its place on the wall and setting it on the floor upside-down.

"Stop that!"

You looked around trying to find him. He was in a floor-length mirror, looking directly at you. It was a painfully slow process, taking down each mirror, but you were able to get it done. The real problem now was the floor-length mirror; that one required you to stand in front of it. You went to one of the drawers and pulled out what looked like a long shirt. You draped it halfway over the mirror before lifting it from the top and setting it down.

Now, you have complete safety while you search the room for the key to Belphie's. You discovered red writing on one of the walls; Only Death will set you free. What the hell could that mean? They're technically dead already! Unless it meant truly dying somehow, death is an afterthought for them!

"What're you doing? This is an invasion of privacy!" The man in the upside-down mirror bellowed.

"Invasion my ass." You muttered, already annoyed with him. You rifled through the drawers to his desk, looking for anything that might resemble a key. Finding nothing, you pressed against the top, sides, and underside of the desk in hopes of a secret compartment should one be there. Shifting whatever was inside the desk drawers and trying to see if maybe a compartment was inside the drawers beared nothing for your efforts.

The man was still shouting as loud as he could to get you to stop, which you of course ignored. His closet in the room wasn't excluded as you repeated a similar process; as well as his bed and paintings. Lo and behold, in the stuffing in one of his pillows was a key.

It had a pattern you couldn't quite describe well and rather than it being silver, it was gold. Medium in size, the end of it barely curved upward. You spent quite some time looking for this key, and you had high hopes that it was a master key of some kind for the rooms, perhaps the whole house if you were lucky. Going back to a small hand-held mirror, you lifted it enough so he could hear you clearly; his ranting was starting to give you a headache.

"Listen here, motherfucker. I'm trying to help you. I'm going to help your brothers and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

He went silent, contemplating your words. Before he could answer, you set it back down and bolted out the room. Whatever he shouted as you left went unheard as you made a beeline to Belphie's room.

Lucifer heard the footsteps retreat out the room as he shouted one last time for them. The nervousness that was once present was replaced by pure panic and rage. He thrashed around, destroying the mirrors until none remained. He didn't know which hallway you went down, so he assumed the right. He assumed you weren't told the layout and would take the long route to Belphie's room.

He shifted there only to realize he hasn't heard Mammon at all. Mammon's footsteps were no longer present and your words to him earlier echoed in his mind. The writing on his bedroom wall was practically burned into his mind. Lucifer looked at his gloved hands; the hand that casted spells so many times, the ones that brought people to their knees, the same ones that comforted his brothers in their earlier years.

He closed them. He felt. . . . powerless. He was losing his brothers left and right due to this. . . . . this. . . . this insolent brat! He was the eldest brother! He could've been there for them, but instead, he was trapped in a mirror. Trapped in a mirror he stumbled into as he was observing his brothers to ensure they didn't cause trouble. That made Lucifer angry.

It made him extremely angry; furious, even. His lack of presence and guidance for his brothers burned in his throat. And now, his lack of ability to do anything as he was going to lose the twins next clawed, scratched, and tore into his heart. A light shone dimly, and with almost every passing, it grew.

All he saw was red.

All he heard was the sound of breaking glass.

And all of a sudden, he felt the rush of fresh air and the feel of soft, plush carpet.

The Man in The Mirror, also known as Lucifer, was free.

As you ran out the room, you repeated the process of looking through the peepholes to find Belphie's room again. Once you came across it, you inserted the key, hoping it would open the door.

And lucky enough for you, it did. Quickly and silently opening the door, you sped-walked to the bed. He was surrounded in the mountain of pillows, but you disregarded those and tossed them to the side. You shook his shoulder, trying to get him to wake up.

You glanced around the room as you did so, seeing the doorway was as charred and ashy as the hallway. It didn't take much to wake him; he was by himself all these years and almost forgot what physical contact felt like. Despite his face showing signs of sleepiness, his eyes and attention was diligent and awake.

"Wh- what the hell? Who're you? How'd you get in here?" He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm MC, and there's not enough time for me to explain myself. Beel is waiting for you in the kitchen; he's been cooking and baking excessively for years." You urged, trying to reunite them as fast as humanely possible.

He sat up straighter at Beel's name. Saying nothing, you followed him as he walked over to the open doorway and stuck his arm through. He wasn't stopped by anything or anyone. Looking back at you, he smiled happily and thanked you before racing out the door and vanished from your line of sight. You tailed after him, being careful not to disturb anything.

You were reached the stairways when you heard the sudden crash of glass and a thump against the floor. Your hand rested on a polished handlebar as you looked to the source of the noise. Chills ran up your spine; your heartbeat quickened and face paled.

It was him. It was the Man in the Mirror; in the flesh! He looked at his hands, body, and the environment around him. His head slowly turned towards you.

The air grew cold and hostile; the once welcoming household felt like anything could jump out at you from the walls. His glare bore into you, and he took a step forward. Voice slightly raspy from being unused often, but otherwise clear and full of hatred.

"You. . .you insolent brat. . .you took them from me! You intrude MY house, mess with MY things, and to top EVERYTHING OFF, YOU TOOK MY FAMILY AWAY FROM ME!"

You took a step back, shocked still, raising both hands in defense. "W- wait, I didn't take your family-"

"SHUT UP! I HAVE SUFFERED SO MUCH AND THE LAST COMFORT I HAD WAS TAKEN! I WILL CAUSE YOU SO MUCH PAIN YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD!"

And with that, he took off running towards you. You booked it towards the door only to be cut off by him as he slide against the floor, blocking your escape. You turned around and ran back up the stairs; he pursued and got dangerously close to you. You had to discard your flashlight, aiming at his feet in hopes of making him fall.

It somewhat succeeded; he didn't trip, but did take enough time to avoid it that bought you a few more extra seconds. Running almost blind through the halls, you grabbed and threw down the wall-mounted candles to the floor. He obviously wasn't going to let you help him and you made the worst possible mistake by looking back.

He crashed against the wall, and as he ventured into the dim hallway, his eyes practically seemed to glow with rage. You were neutral when it came to stamina in running; but you felt invincible as adrenaline fueled your systems to escape your pursuer.

You continued knocking down the candles, throwing a few into rooms. Your bacpack was, unfortunately, weighing you down, full of stuff you never used or touched since you entered the manor. Hastily taking it off, you slowed down to aim the backpack at him before throwing. You didn't realize just exactly how close he was until you looked back and swore loudly.

The backpack hit him square in the chest, making him stumble. The candles you threw down acted on their own, quickly spreading as they once more ate the carpet and swallowed the curtains.

Smoke filled air, stinging your eyes and making it harder to breathe. It affected the man as well, catching onto what you were doing. He horrifyingly realized he couldn't do anything to stop it since he was busy chasing you in the name of vengeance.

It was a painful process, but eventually you circled back to the manor's lobby, which was unsurprisingly also on fire. A loud, groaning creak came above as you saw that the chandelier was coming down; a metal piece made its mark on your left forearm as you narrowly missed being crushed. You ran as fast as you could to the entrance of the manor, coughing all the way. Pushing open the doors, you ran against the gravel road back to the gate until you tripped and fell on your own feet. You looked back, seeing the manor up in flames against the night sky.

The manor roared in what sounded like pain as your nerves slowly calmed down. The life the brothers brought to the manor drained from the windows; parts of the stone structure cracked and gave way. The wooden parts held tension before splintering. The gorgeous plants and garden that wrapped around the manor had now decayed and withered, turning into nothing more than a pile of ash. The trees' roots seemed knotty and overgrown; the once lush leaves now gone. The roaring didn't cease, and with every passing minute, the sound grew to be more sad, more angry, more hopeless.

You started crying now, but not from the pain in your arm. Your whole body was shaking, breath hitching as you struggled to breathe. The manor was reduced now to a pile of stone, wood, glass, and the lost sense of hope for a better "life". The entire estate was transformed into what it should've looked like. It was a pitiful ending for the Man; it weighed in your heart like a stone. Nothing you could do about it now; you sighed, got up, and made your way gingerly back to the gate.

#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me #series #obey me luficer #om! lucifer #om lucifer #mammon obey me #om! mammon #gn!mc #om mammon #obey me asmodeus #om asmodeus #om! asmodeus #om! belphegor #om belphie #obey me belphegor #omswd #obey me! one master to rule them all #The Man in The Mirror

57 notes · View notes

falkenscreen · 4 years

Text

Star Trek: Voyager

Yes this show ended some time ago; that doesn’t mean that it’s not still underrated.

A relative late convert to Star Trek, this author committed to traversing the Delta Quadrant having finished The Original Series, The Next Generation, Discovery & Picard to date. Deep Space Nine is next; like the Doctor I don’t know anything about this ‘Dominion’ but they seem important and we’ll get there.

Having now finished Voyager, here’s the (spoiler-filled) thoughts of someone who came to the bridge afresh and savoured the light-hearted nature of the show. Yes TNG demanded more attention and the episodes herein that do are generally better, but for relaxed, semi-serialised adventure Voyager is a high point.

We’ll start with the negative and get to the fun stuff.

From the get-go there was a jarring disconnect between the premise and goals of the show. If a ship more advanced than any in the region is travelling really fast in one direction they’re not going to keep running into the same people; better begetting a saga poised for episodic rather than serialised fiction. The writers and audience were evidently a little tired at this point of TNG’s slavish devotion to wrapping everything up in 40-odd minutes so wanted to try variations on a theme; it was the right approach for the time accompanied by a smart premise that didn’t match.

And a stellar premise it was only set to be buoyed by the Federation-Marquis dynamic. Also partly squandered, corresponding grounds for strong tension and stories were left by the wayside – characterised by Chakotay’s ill-established, apparently immediate and seemingly endless trust in Janeway; together major failings of the show.

On continuity, and just so it’s out of the way; no they don’t show it but it’s clear the crew just manufactured more photon torpedoes like they did so much else.

Commencing with one of the best episodes, there is rarely a subsequent moment as character-defining as Janeway destroying the array. Don’t get me wrong, Kate Mulgrew is great, but she alike Kirk and Picard are, as fleshed out as they become, for stretches bare variations on a tired theme; young headstrong hotshot dedicates their life to the stars to become a reasoned, seasoned Commander. ‘Tapestry’ did it best and there was no need to explore this further.

Voyager had a general problem with characters that took several seasons to grow; it was a long time before Neelix stopped being grating and his earnestness became endearing. There is too very little you can relay about Tuvak beyond his being a Vulcan and a little sardonic, or Harry besides his yearning for advancement or Chakotay aside his membership of the Marquis and focus on his cultural background.

The stand-out worst episode of the entire show was Chakotay finding out that the Sky Spirits central to his people’s religion were actually from the Delta Quadrant; you can garner Robert Beltran’s clear ambivalence (at best) to such material. This author is aware of the significant tension between the actor and others on set; I can understand the frustration at a lead cast member belittling the series in public but the directions and emphasis the character took in later seasons was something else, as were the music cues whenever his or some others’ cultures came up.

Star Trek, and notably The Original Series, is often (but not always) shrewd for both telling stories addressing the place of culture, religion and community in people’s lives while not overly if at all drawing attention to particular characters’ backgrounds. To Beltran’s credit, he only made the disaffection perceptible on screen in the episodes that were of poor taste, as opposed to the ones that were just bad. There are many lousy episodes of The Original Series but what near always makes it enjoyable is Shatner et al’s absolute commitment to the bit. One of the very worst episodes of Voyager is the one where Harry is lead to believe that he’s actually from a planet in the Delta Quadrant full of attractive women; yet no one in Star Trek ever needs to look bored reading their lines. There are good ones and bad ones and we’re along for the whole ride.

There’s also that one where Tom and the Captain turn into salamanders, start life on a random planet and somehow transform back into their usual selves with these shenanigans never brought up again. Yeah that was awful but it was preceded by a generally decent few acts centred on exceeding warp limits; reputation aside it wasn’t quite down there.

On Alpha Quadrant folks being in the Delta Quadrant, as much as I missed the Klingons they did not need to rock up latently and near the very end; there were plenty of better ways to give B’Elanna an arc. One of the more interesting characters, she offered a variation on Worf’s overwhelming pride as a Klingon, though she barely got enough episodes to shine and these were predominantly featured much later on. And when the show stopped pretending Tom was the cocky pilot we’ve seen dozens of times before he too managed to get a whole lot more interesting.

It would have made a lot more sense for McNeill to just directly continue his character from TNG’s ‘The First Duty;’ alas.

Also welcome were the insights into the Borg; even if they became a lot less eerie it was great to learn that much more about them, though nothing, save the introduction of Seven, bettered the recuperating drones who were the ship’s first Borg encounter. The Borg children were also very funny (the related Voyager pick-ups in Picard were excellent) and should have stayed on the ship longer so Seven could say more things like “fun will now commence;” she can only say “Naomi Wildman” deadpan, as good as it was, so many times.

Heralded by such a superb actress, Seven and the Doctor thrillingly shared dual arcs akin but distinct to Data’s and each other’s, permitting us to relish their gradual growth and revel in their leaps forward. Seven’s narrowing down of eligible crewmen, unlike Chakotay’s later courting, was a particular highlight, as was her month of isolation when the crew were in stasis and the one where the Doctor overtook her node.

The Doctor however emerges the best character, far and above all others save the near as interesting Seven. Picardo’s charisma and stage presence, well-befitting an exaggeratedly humanistic, bombastic piece of programming, only propelled the most relatable arcs in the series; his desire to fit in and, as any, make a contribution. The Doctor’s opening number in ‘Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy,’ but one occasion where Picardo’s vocal abilities were graciously integrated into the series, by this author’s judgement is the funniest sequence in seven seasons.

‘Message in a Bottle’ with the Doctor centre was too among the very best of the series. Mining any opportunity for comedy we can nonetheless be grateful, alike TNG, that they kept the bald jokes to about one per season.

As asides, it was lovely to see Reginald Barclay return and realise his aspirations in one of the best and most heart-warming episodes of the saga, while the singular and very obvious inspiration one episode draws from Predator proved amusing for just being so unabashed.

‘Scorpion’ was amazing as was anything to do with Species 8472. Captain Proton, acknowledging the entire franchise’s schlocky roots, was a definite recurring highlight, with Mulgrew in one installment clearly having no end of fun alike the cast’s enjoyable turns in late 90’s Los Angeles alongside Sarah Silverman. Speaking of guest stars, seeing The Rock was a nice surprise though with hindsight they may never have cast him given Star Trek shrewdly chose to not have celebrity appearances overshadow the show. But hey, they can’t see the future; at least cleverly opting to obscure Jason Alexander in piles of costuming.

‘Year of Hell’ is good, but the premise befitted an entire season and alike the lacklustre finale nothing really matters (with some well-executed exceptions) if you can just go back in or erase time. There were many, many episodes that shouldn’t have been contained within forty minutes and deserved longer-form devotion, ala ‘30 Days.’ ‘Timeless’was a much better (and unusually technically-focused) variation on the aforementioned themes and it was fun to catch Geordi, as it was Deanna and especially Sulu. ‘The Omega Directive’ was cool; ‘The Thaw’ was great.

The fable-esque nature of the franchise has always been enjoyable and digestible given the show is partially aimed at kids, though there are episodes where it’s just a little too direct, and characters take a little too much pause. ‘Alice,’ the one where Tom almost cheats with his ship as an overly obvious parallel about why you shouldn’t have sex with other people if you have a girlfriend, if a good lesson, in execution was a tad much.

On reflection this author was surprised to discover some of the least generally favoured episodes, among them the Fairhaven double. It may be my great personal affection for Ireland but it makes perfect sense that given the time available this sort of world would be created and characters might pursue holo-relationships, a theme underexplored in Voyager yet still covered to great effect. The established technical deficiencies of holo-technology in such regular use should not come as a surprise when they recur.

The one where Kes comes back was actually a later highlight; her character was never very well handled and no it wasn’t that blast off into the sunset but sometimes old friends lose their way and it’s the job of old friends to set them on the right path.

Most surprising was the dislike directed at ‘Tuvix.’ The difference between Voyager and much heavier sci-fi is that herein characters make a lot of decisions that are hard, not ones that are difficult. The destruction of the array was devastating but not morally questionable within the confines of the show. As a tangent, you could argue that had Janeway made the decision to return to the Alpha Quadrant at the beginning of the series that it would have been the morally correct decision given that, as we see in ‘Hope and Fear,’ another highlight, the ship would not otherwise have been a factor in much disorder and destruction. The show was not however so expansive philosophically as to greatly tread such ground as the franchise otherwise managed in the likes of ‘City on the Edge of Forever.’

In ‘Tuvix’ Janeway, a figure, like Chakotay, who often shifted characterisation to fit the requirements of any given story, was faced with a difficult decision with no easy moral out nor ethically unquestionable approach. It was a refreshing change and correspondingly dark denouement to boot apparent in the likes of ‘Latent Image,’ another fine instalment with the Doctor.

‘Eye of the Needle,’ the only episode this author has watched twice to date and a deeply empathetic early high point, save ‘Balance of Terror’ is the best treatment of the guarded but necessarily relatable Romulans (I haven’t seen all the movies!). ‘The Void’ bookends the show as a later stand out while the in respects not dissimilar ‘Night’ bears one of the darkest challenges and finest, most resonant endings.

This brings us to the ‘best episode;’ one featured regularly in top ten lists but seemingly not a very favourite.

‘Blink of an Eye’ is everything that is exceptional and aspirational about Star Trek. Stranded in the stratosphere of a planet where time passes with greater rapidity, the curious presence of Voyager in the skies begins to influence the society to the point where the inhabitants develop space travel to face the spectre.

A commentary on the Prime Directive as deft as any and a relatively novel variation on both the time travel and petri dish tropes resplendent throughout sci-fi and Star Trek, the episode is also a fabulous meta-commentary on the place of the franchise in popular culture much less crude than Janeway bemoaning the Doctor’s fleeting interplanetary fans’ obsession with every aspect of his personal life. Incorporating a fair bit more science than is typically par, the astronaut’s moving decision to help them, as with his staring into the heavens as Voyager finally departs, speaks to the selfless ethos and sense of overwhelming curiosity so intrinsic to the most basic lore of Star Trek, the most beloved episodes and all that Gene Roddenberry best achieved.

It’s also an amazing meditation on first contact principles and pitfalls which unlike many episodes doesn’t borrow story bones from TNG.

A more than welcome reprieve from a pandemic, I didn’t spend as long in the Delta Quadrant as the crew but for what I did I was glad to relish with them.

Star Trek: Voyager is now streaming on Netflix

#xl #film/tv #voyager #star trek #star Trek: voyager #gene roddenberry #jeri ryan #kate mulgrew #roxann dawson #robert duncan mcneill #robert beltran #ethan phillips #tim russ #jennifer lien

24 notes · View notes

alias-b · 4 years

Text

angel cake.

Summary: Former enemies, now friends and maybe lovers, Billy Hargrove and Evie Fenny start teasing in a church confessional. Things take a turn for the heated when Billy's imagination gets away from him. ~Also posted on my AO3

Billy/plus size!OC. Fucking in a confessional. Sin. Filth. Thanks for reading. Weird to write them romantically bc the start of the fic is Rough. They have work to do. Billy Being Nasty In Church. Teaser at later stuff for my new enemies to friends to lovers Billy/OC Fic, Sins of My Youth, that I want to start posting. XOXO.

Billy Hargrove x Evie Fenny

angel cake. 🍰

“You really have to go to this thing?” Billy’s Camaro roared into a church parking lot. Looked out of place there. Multicolored tulips swept against the spring wind, too pleasant before the fender.

“Told mom I’d help out. I’m not staying for the festivities, they just need extra hands setting up the food and Easter egg hunt.” Aviators flashed at Evie in the passenger seat.

Billy with his arm propped in the window. Denim jacket and white button down tucked into tight jeans. Cigarette dangling out his lips. Exceptionally pretty, even against all the pastel flowers and banners set for the holiday.

“What a good daughter. Santa ought to put you on the nice list for sure.” He plucked the smoke out to exhale as she brought the car mirror down.

“Hell, I forgot I had red on today.You have napkins in here?” She opened the glove box to sift through papers. Billy extended his arm.

“Use the jacket, give me something messy to remember you by.” A wink followed before she took his wrist and smacked a ruby kiss into his forearm, printing the light wash. Eyes flicked as some of the red lipstick got swiped away, leaving a more pink tint behind.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Red is the devil’s color, Evangeline.” Came some mocking in a horrid southern accent. She scoffed with her eyes elsewhere.

“You could always come help if you’re going to pout.” She dug around her purse.

“Not pouting. Churches and I don’t mix. It’s the one thing dad and I agree on.” Billy pulled his shades down and folded them into his front pocket with the cigarettes.

“Well, pick me up in an hour, we’ll go catch something scary and sinful.” She applied chapstick and rubbed her lips together.

“Sinful? I like that.” Billy’s fingers squeezed her thigh, hot on skin and just barely under the little black suspender skirt. Evie wore a brightly colored tee with sunflowers all over it. Her usual green bomber jacket covered in patches. “That new?”

“The chapstick? No, it’s tinted and smells like watermelon though.”

“Let me try.” Billy saw her offer the tube and instead pulled her in by the collar for a kiss. Mashing their lips together. He flicked his tongue out for good measure and heard her gasp against his ferocity. It still managed to catch her off guard. A light smack when he parted, tonguing his bottom lip. “Mm, tastes like watermelon too.”

“Billy, there are people over there.” She pushed his wandering hand out of her skirt.

“I’d like to see Jesus himself come out and...what the fuck is that?” Billy’s finger lifted so Evie followed it to see the Easter Bunny leaving a lone side door. Lavender fur with white tufts, huge goofy grin.

“Yeah, they have someone dress up every year for when the kids arrive, which is in about sixty minutes, so I gotta go.” Evie had Billy’s wrist again to check the time. Pecked his cheek and shifting before he about howled. “What?” Her body jumped at the sound.

“No fucking way!” Billy was scrambling out because the bunny head had come off so a quick smoke could be snuck around back. “No way! Hey, Harrington! That you, amigo? What’s up, doc?”

Steve spun on his heel, holding a cigarette in one hand and the bunny head under his other arm. His head fell back with a groan because Billy was leaning up against his chair, bent over to belly laugh.

“Hargrove?” Steve looked mortified, but played tough. “Are they really letting you within five feet of a church?” Billy was too busy cackling to retort. Fist clenched and head resting upon his arm on the Camaro.

“The fucking tail.” Billy wasn’t stopping so Evie crossed her arms.

“What happened to Gary?” Evie approached Steve, head cocking. “Ignore Billy.”

“I try to… And food poisoning. I dropped Dustin off at home yesterday to help Claudia out and she begged me last minute. I’m getting fifteen bucks for it though. Not bad for the Saturday before Easter.” He flashed a half smile. “Suit kinda smells like potpourri, I-...Is he gonna stop or what?”

“He’ll tucker himself out eventually.” Evie turned her head to see Billy unable to get air. “Billy, take a breath already before you pass out!” A huge gulp followed. More wild laughter. “Jeez.”

“I’m never gonna live this down, shit.” Steve mumbled around his smoke, flicking it. “Asshole.”

“Might want to get back in, Pastor will have a cow if he catches you smoking in the suit.” Evie took the head to help Steve back into it.

“See you, Hargrove. Remember to breathe, dick.” The bunny snuck back in the side door. Another round of laughs at the sight of the puffy tail.

“I wanna kick his ass so bad. You don’t understand.” Billy stretched out, eyes watering and cheeks blushed. Freckles glowing.

“You short circuiting still?” Evie peered down at her boots.

“I don’t know what Easter is about, but that...was the best shit I’ve ever seen.” Billy snickered like a little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. Evie only rolled her eyes.

“New beginnings, Billy.” Heels clicked up behind them so Billy straightened quick to get his composure.

“Hey, mom.” Evie leaned out from behind the boy.

Mona Fenny appeared from the main doors, her arms full of bags. Brightly colored plastic eggs packed with treats about to spill out. Hair pumped, unable to move, with a short 60s sheath dress clinging to her body. Yellow and orange print. Something that was definitely noted by the men around. Single and ready at all times. Evie felt her cheeks heat at her mother.

“New beginnings, Miss Mona?” Billy repeated, one hand sliding into his jean pocket.

“That’s what I always thought, sugar.” That southern twang thick beyond all reach.

Billy always liked to poke fun at Evie, she had the slightest Louisiana touch to her voice that came out when she was in a more fiery disposition. She swore it wasn’t true.

“Evie, they’re trying to get the dessert table set up. I didn’t realize Billy was joining us.” Mona continued.

“Oh, I-”

“You know, Billy was actually telling me he’s never been to a real Easter gathering before. Not a church event.” Evie’s sly smile crossed and he shot her a look. “I’m sure those big, strong arms you got would really help out setting up.” Evie came to him and gave his bicep a pat.

“That’s lovely, Billy. You know the kids just love this event, fun in the sun and more food than you’ll ever eat. Go on inside, you two. We have decorations to get going.” Mona clicked away, peppy in stride.

“I had a hair appointment.” Billy hissed through his teeth when Evie’s mother was gone.

“You want to tell my mother that you’re going to get your hair done somewhere that isn’t her salon?” Evie’s lips pressed. Billy’s face scrunched because she had him there. “I panicked, the people here are too much. Please stay.”

“Your mom never turns her volume down, does she? Looking more like a brunette Sharon Tate than a Dolly Parton.” Billy locked his car, stuffing the scorpion keychain into his pocket.

“Been like that since dad left, she’s...on the market. Trying to feel good. People notice and they say some not great stuff. She went from dressing like a nun to a model overnight.” Evie was holding her arms close to her chest still, making this unconscious patting motion Billy always noted like she was trying to console herself.

“Really bugs you, what people think.”

“It’s a small town, it bugs everyone.” Evie turned, skirt flitting while her curls bounced. “Don’t like all these guys ogling my mom.”

Doesn’t like that one might replace her dad. Evie peered back at Billy, lips pushed up to appear brighter. He decided he wanted to see her happier without force.

“I’ll stick around. You owe me.” Steps followed. One hand gave her bottom a firm pat.

“You know, the Easter Bunny has to do a dance before the festivities begin?” She whispered then. “It’s tradition.”

Billy perked up like a dog.

“Right, so, decorations?” He waltzed ahead with a giggling girl in tow. Spotted the moms passing boxes off. All stilling to see him there. Wind sweeping his blond locks like a beefcake out of a romance novel. Shirt open with his saint chain glinting upon his tanned chest. “Ladies.”

“Hi, Billy.” Came the chorus.

He ate that up a little.

Sunlight was barely felt through the spring breeze. Balloons and streamers glowed every direction. Twisted around Evie’s manicured fingers as she passed them up to Billy to be tied around the banner.

“Feel like I might float away here.” The wind swept up her unruly curls as she smiled below when Billy peered to see her. Pink and violet balloons. Yellow streamers. She looked like a piece of decadent candy there. “What?”

Billy snapped out of it.

“Why do I have to be on the ladder?” He snatched another bundle of strings from her to tie them up.

“I wore a skirt so I wouldn’t have to be.” Came the cheeky reply. Hawkins residents hurried all over to set up the grassy field.

“Let’s switch. Although, the view here ain’t half bad. I can totally see down your shirt.” His tongue swept over eager lips as eyes lowered to her breasts. Brows furrowed to glare at him. It was striking how cute she was, even angry. High, apple cheeks and pillowy lips. The sun brought some gold into lush, dark curls.

“Jerk.” An arm hanging with streamers covered her chest. “We’re standing next to a church. Behave yourself, you’re fixing to get smited.”

“God’s got bigger problems than me.” He shrugged, caught his tongue in teeth. Smirked. “Fixin’ to. Your Louisiana is showing.”

“Shut it, I got too much family down there still. Sometimes it jumps out. I don’t have an accent.”

“You so do. Just saying it’s cute.” He caught her cheeks flooding all strawberries and cream.

“Hey, I have to keep my clinically unapproachable ice queen reputation. You’re not helping.”

“Damn cute then.” Billy’s head cocked. A wink of those sinfully, long lashes. “Hand me another one.”

Evie’s hand came to his to offer a new bundle of balloons.

Green grass swept about as parents worked to hide eggs all over and a full spread of picnic food was set out on blue gingham tables. Kids started to pile in so Billy decided it was time to hide around the building after snagging the biggest piece of apple pie he could. Alone, they watched the crowds play beyond a row of vibrant tulips.

“One fork?” Evie leaned up against the wall.

“You had my tongue in your mouth this morning, don’t complain about sharing a fork.”

“Fair enough.” She let him feed her a bite. “That wasn’t so bad, time flew. You want to jet?” A bouncy tune played as Billy craned his neck around the corner after a huge bit of pie. Evie followed his line of sight.

“Easter is my new favorite holiday.” He let Evie snag the fork to finish off the slice, tossing the plate into the trash. Genuine laughter as Steve Harrington did a jig in his costume across the open field. Billy’s arm slid over Evie’s shoulders. “You think I can pay one of these kids to kick bunny in the nuts?”

“We’re leaving… Before you traumatize some child.” She tugged at his wrist to sneak in a side door. “Left my coat and purse over here.”

Absolutely empty and dim save for the morning sun spilling into stained glass. They passed rows of pews to the tables covered in empty boxes. Evie went for her purse and realized she already lost Billy, curiously rooting around.

“Hey, don’t touch that.”

“They actually have one of these things? I thought movies made this shit up.” Billy poked his head around the little confessional booth. Hardwood and sleek to touch. Ornate and out of place against bright blue wallpaper. Two doors on either side. “So, everyone’s planning on staying outside right? Should be entertained a few hours, hm.”

He went in and a lock clicked.

“Billy, hey.” Evie felt the urge to keep her voice low. “Get out of there. They actually don’t really use this thing anymore.”

“Doesn’t get use, eh? Too bad.” His snicker was muffled. “Get in the other side, Angel, confess your sins.”

“I’ll confess that I think the nickname is still silly.” She wiggled the handle and poked her head into the opposite side. Saw Billy’s pretty silhouette through the tiny mesh window. Both sides were cramped like an airplane bathroom.

“Roomier than I thought.”

“Some of us have hips here.” Evie huffed at him, the door shut while she slid inside. “Kinda creepy actually, let’s go.”

“You gotta confess first, it’s the rule.” His wild curls flicked so she plopped into the wooden bench.

“This is not even sexy, I feel like I’m about to be murdered here.” She pressed her hands on either wall.

“Better confess quick in that case,” Billy leaned in, she saw his lashes flutter, “what color are your panties today?”

“Billy.” She covered the mesh with one hand.

“Do they match the bra?” He continued, voice lowering.

“I’m not doing this.” Evie lifted her skirt and shifted a lacy pair of shorts aside to see. Billy’s breath drew heavier. “What’s it matter if they match?”

“If they match, you walked into this church thinking you’d be getting some later.” He said that far too matter-a-factually. “Sinner. What color? Describe them exactly.”

“You’re being gross.” She knew he heard the band of her little biker shorts snap. Caved. “Purple. Like a lilac.”

“Cotton?”

“...Satin.”

A lengthy hum from Billy at that.

“And the bra. I’m assuming the same.” He already heard Evie shuffling to check.

“Ah, shit.” She let her shirt go and he chuckled. “I didn’t even plan that. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Your subconscious knew, Angel. No denying it.” Billy propped his arm up.

“Okay, what do you have on?” The challenge was easily met.

“Nothing under the jeans, currently. You should try it.”

“In a skirt? Without my little shorts? My thighs would rub, I’d be miserable.” Came a whine.

“I’d massage your poor thighs, maybe blow the hot skin to cool it off if you like.” His suggestion wasn’t helpful. “Spread them and rub some ice to make you feel better. Few kisses all the way up.” That damn low baritone lingered upon the syllables like he might lick them. Evie gave a silent snort out her nose. “You’d probably squirm a little bit like you are now.”

“I am not squirming.” Evie’s chest lifted, eyes turned to Billy’s outline.

“Now, Angel, you can’t tell lies in here. The sins are just piling up for you today.” Billy peered around, couldn’t see much in here. Spotted her lips parting, but sound came out. “Betcha, you’re already soaked through those satin, lilac panties.” His purring was met with hard silence before a forcibly huff.

“Billy...quit it.” She bit her lip this time sounding like she’d smiled. Billy spotted her cheeks lifting, full and blushed all pretty he figured.

“I’ll confess, it took every ounce of fight in me to get you here on time. Lot of places in this town to stop and...park at for a bit. The one charming thing I discovered about this place.”

“How sunny side up of you.” She hummed.

“You would have let me have it because we would have parked for awhile. You’d be late. Probably left your wrecked panties in the backseat and walked around here with fireworks still going off under your skin. We both know it.”

“Probably wouldn’t have made it here at all.” Her slow reply was uttered and Billy grinned.

“See, I behaved.” He got closer to the window. “Confess, Evie.”

“Confess that you’re a total horn dog.” She drew in to meet him.

“Confess what you want me to do to you in there.” Billy murmured. She blew a curl out her face at that. “I got it, I want you to be my first.” He’d offered that with huge, glittering eyes she’d caught the glint of. Eyebrows jumped.

“What? Literally yesterday, we-”

“I never fucked in a church before.” He got her eyes rolling hard, almost to the back of her skull.

“Jesus Christ, Billy.” She covered the mesh again, heard him laughing on the other side.

“Not the name you need to be moaning right now.” Billy smacked the window closed and came out.

“Finally, we can go-” Evie had the door open. Still blushing. Chest puffed.

Billy appeared from smoke, had his hands on either side before he pushed in. Catching her lips on the way until the door could shut behind them. Cupping Evie’s face so she pressed into the wall. Back of her legs hit the bench and managed to not buckle. Palms felt around the hardwood for something to grab for until fingers bunched up Billy’s jacket.

She broke for air. Gulped on it before his tongue was back into her mouth.

“We should…” Lips swelled with kisses. “Go to the car.”

“Will you make that walk? I know I won’t.” Came the hushed reply. “We could cross something big off the bucket list.” Persuasive lips were already working on her neck, teeth tugged her ear and grazed back down. Billy got a handful of her tits and hummed.

“Not...Not sure it’s on my bucket list.” She just held onto him. Knees wobbling as Billy massaged through the bra.

“I’d add it now while you have time.” He pecked her throat. Felt the pulse under tender skin racing. “Confess.” It was a sinful purr. Evie’s head tipped back. Lungs starting to sputter. Billy made her heart a pile of volcanic mush.

“What if someone comes in?” She let him tuck her curls aside. Lips on her cheeks and jaw. Finding her mouth again. Tasting sweet sugar from the apple pie they shared.

“We’ll just have to keep it down and pray the party is entertaining enough to keep people outside.” He mumbled, coming out to pull the shirt from her skirt up over the pretty bra she had on.

Hands pulled her suspenders forth until Evie molded into him. Kissed back with the same fierce vigor he gave. Felt the chain around his neck while her fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt, four buttons already undone.

The hard lines of his body sweltered with fire. Whatever resolve she might have had melted away completely.

Evie liked how he always cupped her face to look at her features close between steaming kisses. Fingers trailed to work her bra down just enough for her to spill into his touch. Into his mouth. Bruising suckles. Teeth edging across silken skin. Tongue swirling one dark, rosy nipple than the other as she tried to quiet herself and ran fingers into his gold mane. A hiss and Billy’s eyes lifted. Evie’s head was turned aside, teeth in her bottom lip. Eyes shut.

“Cute when you try to hold it together.” Cool breath against her hard, wet nipple sent a vibration down her spine. Billy licked up her chest to inhale that amber perfume, a floral scent with a touch of vanilla from her lotion. Smelled lush to match him. She pushed his face back into her cleavage, partly to quiet him because he was too cocky.

Chuckling and breathless, Billy came up to tease her lips. Twisting her nipples just so to elicit a sigh. Low and even, Billy ran his finger over her mouth.

“Just confess, Angel, it’ll feel so fucking good when you do.” He caught her bottom lip and let it go.

“Promise?” Evie’s lips parted involuntarily at his touch, let his finger stroke her tongue and slip out.

“I promise.” That same hand already hiked her skirt to tug at shorts until they came down. His finger inched under the waistband of her panties, teasing sensitive skin. She pressed into his body, vibrating for more. Swaying. Arms snug around his shoulders to stay upright.

A shameless sound when her lips collided with his. Thigh hitching around his hips in a needy motion. Not shy about what she desired for one beat because he knew how to coax that side of her out. Billy teased lighter kisses, let his deft fingers dance along her inner thigh. Evie was stubborn and she knew what he wanted.

Confession.

A growl rippled out her tense vocal cords. Trying to reel sound in despite Billy’s inherent ability to make her see new sparks of vivid neon colors here in pure darkness.

“Okay…” She panted, pulling for him until their foreheads touched. “Okay.” A drunken moment where eyes could close. One beat of peace in obscenity. His free arm tightened around the small of her back so they were flush together. Perfect fit. Every curve to her body sloped easily into him. An almost Biblical fate because of how good they felt together. Evie parted her mouth to ghost it over his. “I sinned.”

“Yeah?” Billy’s palm inched up to reward her sighs. A smirk crossed. “How’s that?”

“Because I was hoping you’d pull over on the way here. Would have seen the new underwear in a better light. And I squirmed the whole way. Your loss.” All that cheeky strength simmered down when fingers pushed between thick thighs. Wet satin fabric slipped deliberately against her and Billy moaned at the mere feel. Rock hard.

“Fuck, you’re soaked, Angel.” His tone thickened.

Evie wasn’t able to articulate. Face in his chest with her needy fingers tight on his jacket. She played her demure self again. Billy felt her legs tremor, nudged them further apart with his boot.

“All for me? I wouldn’t call it a loss. You gotta hold yourself up a bit longer, open that mouth again.” He gave her two slick fingers to suck so he could kiss down her tits some more. Plucked and nipped at every sensitive part of her body. “Fucking god damn it, I might give religion a shot after this.”

“Yeah?” Evie licked the pads as Billy slunk down to marvel. Thought about taking her skirt off, but he decided he liked the way the straps framed her breasts partially spilling out of the bra.

One hand forced her thigh up until her foot hit the bench. Evie was curved back into the wall, holding the side frame and gripping Billy’s shoulder.

“Long as I get to go where you’re going, I don’t give a shit about anything else.” A chuckle warmed her leg as he pushed her skirt up out of the way.

“That sounded oddly sentimental.”

“Maybe I’ll bring you down to my level instead. Sinner.” Billy’s mouth placed one open kiss against her wet panties. Tongue following the hard swell of her bud. She decided she’d let him there in darkness. Every muscle in Evie’s body jumped at full attention. His divine and equally wicked mouth hummed blissfully. She craned to dig teeth into her own arm. Fists clenching.

Billy maneuvered her leg over to get the ruined fabric down. Tucked them into his coat pocket and she figured she wouldn’t be seeing them again. Kneeling, Billy scooted closer and pushed her thigh back up, baring her to his mouth.

A cry hitched, snuffing out immediately as he tasted her. Filthy, open mouth kisses until her fingers tangled into his hair. Pulled. Billy moaned into her folds. Squeezed her thighs and loved the feel of them. God, he really couldn’t get enough of this girl. Every whine she let him have. Every nerve that wanted him. Needed him to ease the frays and sizzling. He just couldn’t get enough and was fine with following her into the dark.

“Don’t stop.” Evie whispered. Hair falling into her face while her breasts rose and fell. She licked her lips and savored him.

The dirty sounds he made against her that barely carried outside the booth. Billy squeezed her breast once he was certain she could stay up so she covered his hand. Craned to suck fingers. A gasp left. Evie’s hips rolled into his mouth. Asking for even more until two fingers pushed inside.

Billy moaned when her walls clamped. Pumped through the resistance to massage her nice and deep. Evie was quivering there. Using both arms on the sides to stay up. Shameless working into him now. Billy made a vaguely amused sound and gave an obscene pop around her clit, leaning out with arousal slicking his pink lips. It was music, the sounds her body let flow into crisp air.

“Damn, no wonder you don’t go here anymore. Fucking yourself so hard and pretty on my fingers like this. You couldn’t make the nice list if you paid.” Being eye level with the sight had his cock twitching almost painfully. Evie’s head was tossed back. Clearly getting herself closer so Billy pulled away. Silenced her whine with a kiss. Let her suck and nip at his bottom lip. “See how fucking good you taste?”

Evie’s hands were opening his belt. Quick and eager. Billy hitched as one palm slipped in, fingers ghosting trimmed blond hair to ease him out of the denim.

“Confess, Evie, how bad you want me to fuck you right here.” He spoke as if he still had the upper hand.

“Bet you I can do it without words.” Evie had his hips, guiding Billy to switch so he could sit. The question died and buried itself the second she sank down to lick precum pooling at his tip. Billy’s hips thrust up, eyes heavy and hooded.

“That bad?” He shuddered, legs opening so she could lean into him. Evie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt to kiss the steel muscles. Twitching and molten. Nails scraped his skin. Stopped to stroke him idly. Kissing his abdomen, thighs, and tip. Evie traced the lines of vein and muscle. Down his shaft and back up his chest. So many sharp angles to explore.

Little butterfly kisses while she leaned in until his cock slipped snug between her breasts. Spit slick and beading clear arousal. Billy moaned at the sight and gave a rut as she noticed and started to come out.

Hands latched to her shoulders. Billy hummed and rolled her nipple. Felt the weight of her tits and pushed them to squeeze his shaft. Idle fingers stilled to tuck her hair back in a way that was almost tender.

“You’re pretty like this,” he said thoughtfully, “you’re pretty every which way.” Teeth tugged at her bottom lip. A shy kiss followed. Sometimes, he got so bold, she sank. Learned to savor it. Billy whispered against her. “Have I ever told you my cock looks great between your tits like that?” Frankly, he’d be happy to get off rubbing between her breasts or thighs alone. Fingers digging into supple skin. Evie had become a drug to him. Vanilla and amber immersed him in a high.

“The occasion hasn’t really crossed.”

“I’ll have to fix that next time I can lie you down.” Billy let her stroke him again and come up. Hesitating so he had to encourage her. “Get in my lap.” He was already pulling her into him. Smoothing hair back sweetly for lingering kisses.

She long stopped worrying about feeling too heavy for him. Billy threw her around a mattress like it was nothing. Spread her legs, bent them up how he liked. Marveled at her flexibility. Kissed her obscenely and told her how pretty and blushed she looked. She liked when he was ample with her body. The boy certainly lifted enough weights, a fuller girl with hips was nothing to that. Jeans shifted lower as she straddled him. A kiss before she sank down.

Billy moaned. A low honeyed sound into her ear. Almost musical. Arms wrapped tighter. Evie thanked God for birth control and moved at his coaxing.

“C’mon, fuck me. I want it.” Billy kissed her fiercely. Nipples. Collar. Throat. Jawline. Mouth. And each time, he felt that same thrill rush his bones. A palm smacked her ass, squeezed it. Got drunk off the pulsing and little whines she gave him as if they were gift wrapped. “Confession. I want pictures of you. Spread out with my cock in you every way you like. They won’t beat the real thing, but fuck, I can’t...stop with you. Don’t want to.”

Billy looked vulnerable when he moaned so pretty.

His knuckles traced the curve of her cheekbone. Evie bounced, gripped his shoulders to stay upright with her spine curving. Unable to respond to something so passionate. Billy had that mode on him, sometimes it came out in odd ways. Filthy words to match his obscene way of caressing and worship. His manner of making Evie feel bold and sexy. Cute. Pretty. Fierce. Desired. The fact that sometimes he’d lie still for once and seek out her fingers across his curls and her lips on his cheek.

Evie Fenny was a drug and cure to him, all at once. She gave back. Made Billy feel full and light. Made him feel present. Like he could shed his fangs. Lie back and feel the sun on his skin.

“Confession,” Evie said between quick kisses with her thumb tracing the edge of his jaw, “I want more of you too. After....”

“After?” He scoffed. “Like tonight?”

“Just… After.” She slowed to rock into him. Deep thrusts that made them both moan in sync. So close. “After what’s next for us. Life. High school. Whatever. I want you to be apart of my after.”

He could blame the sex for short circuiting her brain, he’d given it to her pretty hard.

“I don’t know what I’m saying.” She rubbed her eyes, laughed because it felt silly. Felt Billy swoop in to kiss her. Wordlessly validating it wasn’t silly at all. That was another thing they did, pumped life into hopeful hearts and dwindling thoughts of something more. Something that was waiting...after.

“We’ll deal with the after.” Billy skimmed a hand between them. Stroked her until she gave a cry into the denim of his jacket. A beautiful note. Evie thought she heard the twinkling music from outside, joyful and airy. Realized that maybe it was just playing in her head. “Right now, I want you to come.” He pecked her parted lips. “Cum for me, Angel.”

“Billy.” She found his mouth again. They shared a godly nectar in one kiss. He worked her hips into his as she climaxed. Lungs heaving with a great arch. Billy watched her tits bounce and found his own release quick. Let her slip into him as he fell back to the wall. Lungs tried to find some peace. That New Orleans accent laced her tone again. “God damn it, Billy.”

“Still a church, Fenny.” He massaged her thighs. Eyes shifting while she breathed even and fixed her bra. Tucked her shirt back in.

“I need a bathroom. This is about to be a mess.” She slipped off him, pulled her undershorts back on because he wasn’t giving her panties up. Thighs hummed, sore and blissful. Billy tucked himself away to fix his own clothing back. Evie poked her head out. “Coast is clear.”

Without thinking, she laced her hand in his. Hurried him out to the bathroom to pee and wash up. Saw her patchy, red cheeks in the mirror and huffed. Patted cold water on them. Billy finished at the sink and lit a quick cigarette by the window. That chipper music lingered outside.

“Your mom is going to be here awhile. I vote your place.”

“Movie on the couch.” She flicked hair aside. Billy flashed a smile, nodding as he snuffed the smoke out.

“To start, maybe.” Two fingers grasped her chin, angled Evie’s mouth for a slow kiss. Tasted sweet, obscene, and smoky all at once. Made her dizzy.

“I’d come back here under certain conditions.” He passed to go out with Evie behind him. She found her purse and coat again.

“Let’s go, you had your fun.” She chuckled as they rejoined the event outside. Wind and all.

“Uh, I think you did too.” Billy’s arm hung around her shoulder. Easy with their height difference.

“You two leaving?” Mona had called, edging from her conversation to cross once the teens were outside. Evie pressed her legs together. Smiled. The Pastor who’d been speaking to her mother followed too. Plastic grin upon his face.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll see you later, mom.” Evie had replied.

“Thanks for coming to help.” Mona beamed. “Pastor Ray, you know Billy. Our neighbor. He was kind enough to help out.”

“Mr. Hargrove. I’m surprised to see you here.” They shook tense hands.

“Only thing I like more than Jesus is Christ. Who doesn’t want to turn water into wine.” Billy’s sarcasm was almost charming. He got a flat look in return.

“I see...”

“Evie, can you take some of the food home, honey? We’ll feed the neighbors.” Mona grasped Evie’s arm to pull her forth. “Just put it in the fridge. I’ll organize later.”

“Sure.” Evie started to follow.

“Be sure to grab the cherry pie if there’s any left. The ladies outdid themselves this year. Billy, you’re free to take some food home, son.” The Pastor addressed him kindly again. Billy’s grin flashed shiny teeth.

“I love a good cherry pie, but I filled up on angel cake.”

He caught Evie’s head whipping toward him as she went. Eyes ablaze which made his smile bigger.

“Oh?” Ray’s head cocked. “I didn’t see that over there. Must have went fast.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe, sir.” Billy patted the man’s shoulder and sauntered by. “Nice church, by the way. Pointy.” Evie hurried to his car with her arms full of Tupperware and boxes. Settled them in the backseat.

“You’re so dead.” She looked sweet, waving at her mother across the lot. Billy laughed, starting his car. “I pick the music.” Her hand swatted his and a groan followed as she tuned the radio to some Etta James. Billy revved out of the parking lot, turning some heads as he went.

“Admit it, you wouldn’t change what you did today. Sinner.” Billy’s free hand found her leg out of his usual habit. “Made my first church going experience special.”

“Don’t turn on the waterworks just yet.” She teased back, sucking her cheeks in without looking at him. “Still mad at you.” A smile pulled her forcibly grumpy expression. Billy came to a stoplight. Tugged at a curl to let it bounce so she peered at him. Nose crinkling when she broke to chuckle.

“Admit it.” Billy gave her thigh a squeeze, vibrant eyes flickering.

“Make me.” Evie said, facing the road. “Later.” Lips lifted before the light turned green. His Camaro lurched forward.

“Happy to.” Billy caught the song change. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“It’s that song you’re always singing to yourself.” Billy turned it up. Irma Thomas. “The mushy one.” Her favorite. He played like it was a careless thing, but Evie stared at him. Warming. Reeled in too easily.

Anyone…

“Shocked you paid attention to that.” She offered after a beat.

“I have to hear it every day I see you, Evie.” Billy snorted, ocean eyes intent on the road. Evie knew better. “Not like I have a choice. Singing and plucking that guitar constantly.” He peered at the trees. “That stuff you were rambling about during the sex high about after.”

“Sex high.” She scoffed.

“Was that the fucking making a mess of you?” Billy asked slower. “Used to hate me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Evie paused when he shot her an unconvinced look, “we weren’t agreeable.”

“Agreeable? Okay, now you sound like that prissy Austen chick you like to read.” Billy’s retort made her giggle. These little details he picked up about her that stuck with him. It was true, their relationship used to be in the negative for good reason.

“I like when we hang out.” Evie shrugged. “Labels. Whatever. I just meant, we should...keep hanging out.”

“After?”

“After.” Evie produced simply. Billy twitched amusement at her, turned a corner.

“Well,” he parked, “I don’t know, good. I guess”

“Fine.”

“Great.” Billy cut back in, challenged.

“Wonderful.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Evie grasped his jacket, shut him up with a kiss. Made the boy breathless there. Billy’s blue eyes glimmered at her. Calm seas for miles. The sun shined into his car. Made the teens glow.

“Movie?” She unbuckled to get out with him following. “Gotta get this food into my fridge.”

“Only if I pick.” Billy stood there and let her set boxes into his arms before she grabbed the rest so they could walk up the driveway.

“Sure. Our tastes align.” Evie peeked back at him with doe brown eyes. “I trust you.” She’d offered that too casually, Billy stilled at the door to watch her unlock it. Blinked.

That was the thing about them, how nonchalant their hearts beat together. A totally on purpose accident. Billy remembering Evie’s quirks and her reluctance to show certain petals sprouting from her stem for fear the world might not like the colors. Budding to flash them with some fire and vibrancy because she had a boy who encouraged them despite it all. And she teased this incandescent quality back out of him with ease. Made him work to be still and feel the world turn once in a blue moon. Billy gave this little smile to himself without her noticing and followed Evie into the house.

They hadn’t trusted each other before. And now it was approaching the after. Whatever that meant. Evie glowed to beam at him there and few things were mattering today. New beginnings.

Billy let himself hope that the after would last.

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #Billy x Angel #writing #mine #Angel Fenny #SOMY

71 notes · View notes

rjshepherd · 4 years

Note

Kotton is a vampire, and Tyrian is a willing 'victim' for them. Kotton is incredibly concerned about the welfare of Tyrian and always fusses over them after a feeding, making sure they're still safe and comfortable. They often cuddle and fall asleep together after the feeding. Or the other way around or nuts and volts 👀

Sorry aubry, i couldn't get the kottian gremlins to play with me so its nuts and volts this time around. Also let me preface this with the knowledge that i do not like vampires. The concept of them is fun but i dont fuck with people who dont eat garlic bread. Bella legosi and i do not vibe.

TW: Blood

Tyrian watches with fascination as his blood moves slowly through the piping to a nearby receptacle. His head is tilted to one side as he takes in the sights with lazy contentment. Arthurs reclined position in the shadows allows him to observe without being seen himself. Truely, in all his years of experience he’d never seen a victim so intrigued by the tools of their own demise. Never had he panicked and called out for help, not once had he even tested his restraints in all the times he had woken in the lab. The first few times were easy to explain away. Perhaps he was knocked insensible by arthurs emp, perhaps the shock had gotten to him. Or...did he simply not care?

Did he not understand the danger he was in? Few people in his memory had survived this long in such close proximity to a hungry vampire. Tyrian shifts in his seat causing the jar of blood to ripple in place. The shimmer, how every droplet catches the light; gods above he’s absolutely starving. The thought of that warmth trickling down his throat and pooling in his empty belly sends shivers down his spine. Something about Tyrian's blood was...intoxicating.

“Hmm.'' The scorpion faunus breathes softly. He stretches his legs, joints popping from being in the same position for so long ``''You know... if you wanted to take me to lunch so badly...you could have just asked “ Watts scowles listening to tyrians hysterical laughter.

“Seriously, Arthur!” he's almost hypnotised by the scorpion's tail swinging rhythmically and low from the bottom of the chair “ you didn't have to go to all this trouble just for little ol me.” Tyrian jangles his restraints. Watts does his best to ignore him, sauntering over to the glass jar and tapping it with one painted nail. A few more drops and it would be full “i invited you down here so no one would see us. And I restrained you because last time we tried this you tried to slit my throat when you woke up.” “ahh yes...good times~” tyrian muses “still. It wouldn't hurt you to try a little...bedside manner. “He snickers “Perhaps a little less...whatever this is and a little more step into my parlor...”

“Said the spider to the fly...” Arthur rolls his eyes as Tyrian laughs hysterically “yes yes! Now you're getting it!” He bucks backwards, bending unnaturally over the back of the chair to glare at him. Suddenly his arms appear, wiggling free of their restraints “ how did you-” Arthurs mouth is suddenly dry; tyrian grins wide, his tongue flickering over his lips, the light catching his exposed canines . he trails his lips down his forearm, golden eyes staring right into watts .tyrian uses his teeth to rip out the drip, tossing it away with a flick of his head. Blood oozes from the tiny puncture, tyrian making quite a show of lapping it up “ You want a taste?” Watts nods watching as Tyrian dances in his seat , hips thrusting in the air, spreading his legs wide and inviting him with his eyes.“go on….you know you wanOOF” air is stripped from his lungs as watts plonks his full weight in tyrians lap. “Careful what you ask for tyrian” Watts hisses hot air across tyrians neck “ you just might get it.”

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

It's a few hours later when it's finally over. Tyrian's upper body is a mess, littered with bites. His half removed shirt is stained with arterial spray. He’s barely conscious but still wearing that infuriating grin as he dangles half on and half off the chair“ you should have stopped me when you got light headed” watts chastises “but we were having so much fun!” Tyrian flings his arms in the air drunkenly, then lets them slam down onto the chair “ you're lucky one of us has some self restraint.” Watts hisses. All that effort to collect a store of tyrians blood and now he has to give it right back just to keep the faunus alive. “You call that restraint!” tyrian giggles “if this is you restrained watts, i'd love to see you feral.” Watts sighs, pressing a kiss to Tyrian's sweaty forehead.

“Next time tyrian. Next time.”

#RWBY #tyrian callows #Arthur Watts #nuts and volts #vampire au #tw: blood #ask #asks #prompts #vampires #blood #givemeuniversalcrossovers

7 notes · View notes

mousehole5000 · 4 years

Text

okay tgcf book 3 time chapter 89 - 106

goth king pei su here to steal pickle jar banyue. or maybe save her? i may have to reread that confrontation in the pit with the scorpion snakes i wasnt quite sure what exactly was going on. anyway pei ming is here now boooo hisssss actually he’s becoming funny to me now

screaming i love this. thank you mx windmaster for this gift i withdraw all my suspicions of you. pickle the man pickle him good.

cheers bro ill drink to that

oh????? curious if there’s any basis for that one with feng xin. also love that this is how the immortals get their kicks

ahh classic little frenemy shenanigans. bad liars both of you

lantern contest im guessing that xie lian is going to have something unexpected happen here in fact im willing to bet he actually wins due to interference from hua cheng and possibly relating to the merchants. if he doesnt i may delete this part out of embarrassment at being wrong but i mean its definitely not going to be completely uneventful or straightforward.

called it what an image!!! okay now lets find out how it happened 3000 is QUITE the turnout

okay my internet dropped out for most of the little catch the fetus spirit saga but we have had the first kiss now it was kind of a disaster also we’re in ghost city now? tight

idk what warning to put on this next excerpt. its a little graphic maybe idk its a description of the fetus spirit

im including it just to say.... eraserhead flashbacks.....

typical man tbh when in doubt just back out. this is a joke but also ive seen friends bfs do this to get out of an argument when theyre wrong lol

YEAH BABY GHOST CITY i love every line of the ghost city hijinks. also ME SOUP ME SOUP ME SOUP every time i take a bath this is how i feel

light in the darkness.... i would like to see it..... also wait ghost city is red????? sexy...

the fact that there isnt an idol or cushions for kneeling in the temple bc thats not what xie lian ever wanted.... the literal devotion......

goths are illiterate. amazing

my 5th grade teacher trying to read my illegible chicken scratch

xie lian saying he’s never lied to hua cheng like he didnt give him an entirely bogus fortune when he was investigating him.... amazing

hua cheng’s canonical evil handwriting is great but also i cant lie i think teaching your love to read/write is... cute.... yes my favorite disney princess movie when i was a kid was beauty and the beast..... what of it....

i actually think its pretty interesting that this current wayward spirit is a mother/child issue... im intrigued

im just now realizing that its most likely going to be a plot point that xie lian’s cultivation relies on his “purity”/abstinence... how will this be resolved considering well. you know. is it just not going to count if the sex is gay? also mu qing follows the same cultivation path? interesting. ALSO jun wu just happens to have a virgin testing sword laying around? so many questions

also im still pissed at qi rong about the queen’s corpse tbh

looks like we’re taking a break from our regularly scheduling mystery for an episode of a cooking show

this book is funny again. love this little stand off while hua cheng is just. doing dishes. also jesus christ whats in the stew?? jfaskdfjasl

windmaster using magic to make the shrine spooky for the ambiance... dramatic legend. also this spirit is known for being a killjoy and it feeds off fear and incites self-fulfilling prophecies? only to meet its match in the god of misfortune? amazing love that

love that xie lian is 100% ready to lend the care of the children over as hua cheng’s responsibility. i really hope when they get back theres at least 2 concerningly ghostly helpers taking care of the kids

xie lian and hua cheng exchanging phone numbers private communication array passwords vs windmaster’s password being poem praising him fight. cannot WAIT to find out what hc’s password is

MORE GHOSTS??? love it cant wait for more. dinnertime now bye tgcf for now

#tgcf liveblog #tearing through this while i wait for episode 3 #mouse mumbles

4 notes · View notes

karl-jenkins · 5 years

Text

Things I love about: Jordan Bamford as Scorpius Malfoy

Jordan is the first cover Scorpius for London cast 3 and I’ve been lucky enough to see him seven times. He has become my favourite Scorpius and brought so many delightful touches and facets to Scorpius that have made me love him as a character even more. The keywords that come to mind when I think of Jordan as Scorpius are: endearing, excitable, sweet and brave.

- From the moment Albus meets Scorpius on the train, you love him instantly. His voice is soft and sweet, he is socially awkward in the most endearing way. He shakes Albus’ hand a bit too enthusiastically for a little too long, you can definitely see that he hasn’t been around children his own age very much and desperately wants to make friends. When he says he’d rather be a Malfoy than “the son of the Dark Lord” he growls and holds his hands like claws. He is just so likeable and the definition of “adorkable”.

- During the flying class scene he is utterly delighted when his broomstick rises until he notices Albus’ is still on the ground. He forgets his own triumph immediately and moves to Albus’ side to reassure him and tell him not to listen to the teasing from the other kids. Right from the start he is a loyal, supportive friend.

- The scene in which he tells Albus that Astoria’s illness has got “the worst it could possibly get” is heartbreaking. He is so quiet and subdued, and his voice breaks as he wipes away tears, he can’t even look at Albus until he asks him to come to the funeral. He blurts this out as if worried that Albus will say no. Joe works perfectly with him in this scene, his Albus is so sincere and supportive and desperately wants to do anything that will help his friend.

- On the Hogwarts Express when Albus asks about the Triwizard tournament, he’s so excited to be able to share his knowledge. When called a geek he gasps and gushes “I thank you” as if it’s the best compliment he’s ever received. When Albus wants to climb up onto the train roof, he tries to stop him by sitting down on the trunks to block his way up. Once Albus pulls him away and climbs up, he is so frustrated that he stamps his feet and shakes his fists as if he can’t quite believe what Albus is getting them into, but he still knows he will follow because he’s his best friend, however frustrating, and he won’t let him do it alone.

- When the trolley witch spikes extend, Jordan shuffles right back into Albus’ lap in fear. Joe wraps his arms around him, Jordan holds his hands in front of his chest and they cling onto each other for dear life. This is one of the many times we see that Scorpius’ instinct when he is sad or scared is to go to Albus for comfort and physical reassurance.

- In St. Oswald’s, Scorpius is so out of his comfort zone. He doesn’t quite know where to look, everything makes him jump. Once again, he goes to Albus for reassurance, holding onto his arm and staying as close to his side as possible. When Amos takes his wand out, he says “come on mate” with his arms fully wrapped around Albus as he tries to drag him away, out of danger.

- When Albus and Delphi are practicing Expelliarmus, he looks so sad and conflicted as he watches on from the background. He likes to see Albus looking happy but he’s also feeling a little jealous and left out. After Delphi kisses Albus and then turns to leave, he fumbles with his Durmstrang robes, dropping them and having to quickly catch them and bundle them back up in his arms. As Delphi comes near, he offers her his cheek as if expecting a kiss too which she obviously ignores. He is so awkward around her and gets flustered and you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed for him. But, it really makes you feel for him and love him all the more.

- He’s so funny in the dragon task scene. He speaks to Albus and gestures with his hands as if he’s trying to plan what he will say. This turns out to be “Krum, Krum, you’re the one!” when Krum’s name is announced as Durmstrang Champion.

- His library scene is so intense. He’s usually so sweet and softly spoken that the sudden rush of anger is such a shock and has given me goosebumps every time. When he’d say “so Sad” he would get this hard, sarcastic edge to his voice and sounded completely different to his usual self. He would get right up in Albus’ face, to the point that sometimes Joe would back away from him fearfully. When he talked about Astoria still being dead in this new alternate reality I’ve seen him do it a couple of different ways – either so sad that his voice breaks or so angry that he can’t contain himself. I’ve seen him slam his hand down on the table and throw the time turner bag down onto it in his frustration. After he’s got everything off his chest, he clutches his hands over his face and just cries which I read as him being overwhelmed by his mixed feelings of anger, sadness and relief that his pent-up frustration has finally been aired. Also, as he usually goes to Albus for physical reassurance, but he can’t do that when it’s Albus that has caused him pain, he ends up clinging onto himself like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

- In Myrtle’s bathroom, he is so proud of himself for the “engorgimpressed” line. When Myrtle leans close to him to say that she likes brave boys, he leans so far back in surprise that it looks like he might fall back out of the sink.

- After he emerges from the lake and the dementors appear, his instinct is to cover his mouth. He’s just found himself in a completely different world to the one he expected; his best friend doesn’t exist, the darkest wizard in history is alive and he’s all alone and yet he keeps his head enough to cover his mouth when he sees a Dementor. For me, this self-preservation instinct is so very Slytherin and gives a good insight into how well he’ll be able to blend in and survive in this world.

- In the dark AU with Draco in the Head of Magical Law Enforcement office what struck me was that he is so brave. After his initial shock to find his dad there and that his dad insists on being called sir, he becomes furious that his dad might be involved in killing muggles. He gets right up close to Draco, shouting and pointing in his face, incredibly brave considering this is not his Draco and this world could hold serious consequences for him. I’ve always found the fact that Scorpius only does the full Voldemort and Valour for Draco meaningful, but I’ve seen Jordan do it very slowly, full of significance which made that moment even more memorable for me by really highlighting the fact that that’s the only time he does it properly. On Sunday (12th May 2019), after leaving Draco’s office, he clutched his hands over his face and burst into tears, like he did after the library argument with Albus. Again, he doesn’t know what to do with all his conflicting feelings and Albus isn’t there to support and help him.

- When he arrives in the library, he is frantic and desperate, feverishly searching for answers so that he can try to find out why this version of events came to be and how he can try to fix it. Scorpius is so sweet and endearing, it’s almost impossible to imagine him as the Scorpion King. Seeing Craig cower away from him is especially jarring when you’re so enchanted by this sweet boy.

- When he asks Snape if he’s undercover now, he realises what he’s said and claps his hands over his mouth as if he wishes he could force the words back in. Snape feels like the answer to his problems and for a second he’s so excited that he gets a bit carried away and thinks before he speaks before remembering what a dangerous situation he’s in.

- His lake scene is so funny that he’s got applause every time I’ve seen it. His voice becomes screechy with excitement, he loses all his composure in his pure delight. When he sees Harry, he screams, high pitched and unable to contain his excitement and relief to see him again. When he sees Draco and says, “and Dad,” he suddenly becomes much more composed – he seems slightly embarrassed, aware that he’s made a scene and Malfoys are not supposed to make a scene. But the way he says “my dad” is so sweet and meaningful; he’s so relieved to be back with the dad he knows and loves rather than the Head of Magical Law Enforcement who is complicit in such atrocities.

- The scene in the dormitory is so funny. When he tries to wake Albus up, he leans out of his bed and nearly falls, having to put a hand out to catch himself. He is utterly giddy in this scene, so delighted to be back with his best friend, everything right with the world once again. For the “time to make time turning a thing of the past” line, he grabs Albus by the arm and pulls him over and delivers the line with their arms linked.

- In the owlery, when Albus says it felt important to send an owl, Jordan mouthed “why?”. Another little moment of Scorpius’ jealousy; he’s got his best friend back and he wants him all to himself.

- On the Quidditch Pitch, he is just so brave, strong and resilient. He stands steadfast despite being tortured. When Delphi pulls them over to turn time back to the maze task, he can’t stop looking at Craig’s body in disbelief.

- The maze is another scene in which he is just so brave. He’s already been tortured, knows she’ll do it again, that she would eventually kill him. But he won’t give up, his voice is hard and determined when he tells her they can defy her. For the Crucio while he’s on the ground, he does a sort of shoulder stand and throws his legs up in the air. He looks a bit like a ragdoll being thrown around and I don’t know how he does it, but it is very effective.

- In Godric’s Hollow, he is so excited to see Bathilda that he actually yells “SQUEAK!” in this squeaky excited voice. He’s giddy with pure nerdy delight and it’s absolutely adorable.

- The hug with Draco in Godric’s Hollow is so heart-warming. Jordan’s Scorpius throws himself into Draco’s arms with such enthusiasm that both feet leave the ground and there is a chorus of “aww”s from the audience, sometimes even cheering and applause. It is a beautiful moment, one that is clearly so important to them both. After the hug, Draco keeps a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, now they are back together, he doesn’t want to lose him again and wants to be able to feel his presence and believe that he really is there. Jordan holds onto his arm and cuddles in against Draco’s shoulder. It is a beautiful thing to witness between them and gives me so much hope for the future of their relationship.

- On their final staircase scene, Scorpius is once again giddy with excitement, his squeaky screech of excitement coming out once again. He really thinks that Rose’s “Scorpion King” is a triumph and sinks contentedly back onto the stairs, fists raised in celebration. When Albus sits down on the stairs, Jordan sits on the next step down and Joe would rest his head on Jordan’s shoulder then Jordan would rest his head on top of Joe’s. It is such a sweet moment. When he leaves to go to Quidditch, he walks most of the way turning back to look at Albus, who stands on the stairs watching him leaves. Their eyes are locked until the last second, when Scorpius waves and finally turns away to leave. It felt like the perfect way to say goodbye to Scorpius.

Jordan has been an asset to the London company and a truly spectacular Scorpius. He is my favourite Scorpius and I will miss him greatly, but I am so grateful to have had seven shows in which to experience his sweet, soft, excitable, brave, funny, geeky and so damn lovable interpretation of Scorpius. His chemistry was Joe was perfect, they portrayed a Scorbus friendship that felt balanced and natural, they were jokey and tactile with each other and their friendship felt so real and like it had so much potential to blossom into more. It was truly a treat to watch them together.

#things i love about #jordan bamford #scorpius malfoy #thoughts and observations #ccsquad #understudy love club #first cover #cast 3 #cursed child london #i've been so nervous about posting this one #i just want to do him justice #there's probably more things that i've forgotten #sorry this is so long

29 notes · View notes

theabominableblogger · 5 years

Text

My Reaction to “Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle”

Bet you didn’t see this one coming, huh?

Ohh I am ready.

The snakeskin over the logo though!

CATE BLANCHETT IS DOING THE INTRO?!?

OK, I can see where Netflix might have stepped in. Some of the CG doesn’t look as... cinematic as expected.

*gasps when Shere Khan enters the scene*

*jaw drops when Bagheera stumbles upon baby Mowgli for the first time*

Oh shit, he picked him up like right after Mowgli’s parents died! Dang!

Stock baby sounds!

This music is gorgeous and I’m like 3 minutes in now.

I already love the feel to this already. I mean, so far, it’s following some similar beats to the Disney movie but it feels fresh and authentic.

*gasps when Tabaqui charges in*

The animation on Tabaqui is awesome.

Even the script feels different and I like it.

Baloo!

*gasps when Shere Khan invades the council*

Oh my gosh, the eye movements Shere Khan does are totally Benedict Cumberbatch

“If you take on me... you take on the pack.” Holy shit you guys.

“The day you miss your kill, the man-cub’s blood will run down my chin.” HOly shit.

Wait, this was the intro?!? Holy crap!

So... stand outs already for the animals are Akela, Bagheera, Tabaqui, and Shere Khan.

“We look it in the eye so that the soul doesn’t depart alone.” *softly* Hoooooo.....

Oh my God, did he [Mowgli] just eat a bug?

*sighs in relief when the scorpion crawls off Mowgli’s face*

Oh my gosh, that landscape is gorgeous

*smiles when Mowgli starts playing with Bhoot*

Oh my gosh, who plays the older brother?

I really like the relationship established with Mowgli and the other wolves.

*gasps when Baloo slaps one of the cubs for not paying attention*

“But I’ve never had one of my cubs fail.” Lemme guess, Mowgli’s gonna fail in the practice run, isn’t he?

God, don’t follow the freaking monkey! That is literally low hanging fruit!

Aaw, he [the baby monkey] looks cute.

Oh my gosh, now that I see Baloo’s teeth when he talks, I can’t stop seeing them.

One thing I like about Andy Serkis whenever he does motion capture, there’s a lot of attention to his eyes and mouth. You can especially see it in the wrinkles around his eyes and the way the lines around his mouth crinkle too.

*mouths a cuss word when Mowgli is trapped underwater watching Shere Khan drink*

*sighs in relief when Shere Khan leaves*

Yeah no, he [Mowgli] should be dead. He is freaking surrounded by SPIKES. It was a TIGER TRAP.

*is left silent when the elephant rescues Mowgli*

Aren’t the elephants considered gods in the jungle? Like all the animals have to avert their eyes whenever they pass or something?

Another detail that I like is that there’s always a hint of audio from the man village whenever anyone is not focused on events strictly related to the pack or the jungle.

Also, can we talk about how soft this Bagheera is toward Mowgli?

Mowgli... what are we doing?

*gasps when Tabaqui enters the camp right in front of Mowgli*

MOWGLI YOU BETTER FREAKING RUN

Holy shit, why are you talking to him [Tabaqui]?!?

OK, that scene between those two was actually pretty good. It’s like, the main protagonist should not be interacting with the villain’s lackey as casual as this, but it helps as part of the plot and it’s not laughed off.

I’m gonna have to look up the rest of the cast list for this because it is supremely good.

God, Mowgli’s gonna fail the Running, isn’t he?

So is Bhoot the runt of the litter?

Holy crap this whole scene is intense.

MOWGLI GET BACK DOWN-

*immediately deflates when Bagheera catches Mowgli right before the finish line*

I am heartbroken. Guys. I am heartbroken.

“He targeted me. He knows I’m the weakest.” Guys...

*finally takes a breath* Oh my God... guys, I was about ready to cry.

*gasps when the Monkey people take Mowgli in front of Bhoot*

WHY ARE YOU [Bagheera and Baloo] FIGHTING?!?

GUYS, STOP FIGHTING!

“Mowgli’s been taken by the Monkey people!” Holy crap, does that mean Baloo and Bagheera are gonna go get Kaa to help them out? Like in the book?

*winces when the Monkeys ram Mowgli’s head into a rock and knock him out*

What the...

*freezes when Shere Khan roars in the background*

Guys, this movie is actually pretty scary. Not gonna lie.

*mouths along with Shere Khan when he says “My, my, how you’ve grown.”*

*winces when Shere Khan marks Mowgli*

Wait, do the Monkey people actually serve under Shere Khan in this version?

*gasps when Bagheera gets dragged under by the monkeys*

KAA!

Holy shit, this music [when Kaa chases away Shere Khan and the monkeys]

So how does the pack view Kaa? I know Baloo said earlier that you wanted to avoid her at all costs, but.. that’s Baloo.

Guys, I love Bhoot. Protect him at all costs.

“Why do always want to be around me, Bhoot?” DON’T DO THIS TO ME

“It’s something your mother tells you to make you feel better because you came out wrong!” Oh my God...

Rohan Chand [the actor who plays Mowgli] is so good in this. Round of applause. I think I prefer him over the Disney version.

Oh my gosh, that little squint Kaa does is absolutely Cate Blanchett

*gasps when Akela misses catching his prey*

OHHH MY GOD THE MORPHING OF THE FACES

*is silent when Shere Khan confronts Akela about missing his kill*

Holy shit, WE ARE DOWNRIGHT KILLING OTHER PACK MEMBERS

*internally screams when Mowgli makes eye contact with Shere Khan*

*Mowgli grabs a fiery branch* WHAT ARE WE DOING?!?

“If I [Mowgli] ever see you [Shere Khan] here again, I will set your hide ablaze and watch you burn alive!” HOLY SHIT

PUT OUT THE FIRE

“Leave.” What?

Holy crap, we’re halfway through the movie? And we’re now going to the man village?

*gasps when the tiger hunter knocks out Mowgli*

Y’know what? I kind of think it is a shame that Warner Bros decided not to release it in theaters. This is a fantastic movie so far but it’s understandably NOT Disney so I could see why that would turn people away.

Sudden change in music...

Bagheera!

God, I love Mowgli and Bagheera’s relationship in this movie.

“Mowgli, I did not come to rescue you. I’ve come to tell you to stay.” You’re breaking my heart, movie.

YOU’RE BREAKING MY HEART, MOVIE.

*is milliseconds away from crying*

“Bagheera... I love you!” *starts to cry a tiny bit*

Stock chicken sounds!

Seriously, who is this hunter dude?

Oh my god, is he [Mowgli] literally eating raw meat?

His [Mowgli’s] hair is so long...

So much orange in the man village!

So how much time has passed since Mowgli came to the man village?

“This is my home now.” WHY DOES THIS MAKE ME MAD

tHAT’S the red dye on his face from Kaa’s vision!

*The village throw chalk around and celebrate* Oh my gosh, this takes me back to the Holi celebrations that they have at my college every year.

Wait, was the hunter the guy who took the elephant’s other tusk? Called it!

Oh my gosh, is Mowgli gonna take the tusk back and return it? Let’s go!

*softly gasps when Mowgli walks by a monkey preserved in a jar*

*has a silent heart attack when Mowgli finds Bhoot’s stuffed head on a stand*

*has to pause the movie in order to get a moment to breath*

MOVIE, ARE YOU GONNA MAKE ME CRY?!?

HOLY SHIT, IS HE [Mowgli] GONNA KILL THE HUNTER DUDE?!?

*jaw drops then sighs in relief when Mowgli puts his knife away*

This music here though! Just this soundtrack in general! Here’s my money, take it.

“Khan!” KHAAAAAAAAANNNNN!!!!

“KHAAAAAAAANNNN!!!” *shakes fist*

Of course freaking Tabaqui runs for it

*gasps when an elephant bowls Shere Khan over*

HE [Mowgli] FREAKING SICS THE ELEPHANTS ON HIM?!?

*jaw drops when Mowgli stabs Shere Khan in the side*

*gasps when the hunter accidentally shoots Mowgli in the arm*

GIVE MOWGLI THE KILL, GOD DAMN IT

*jaw drops when the elephant bowls over the hunter*

THEY KILLED AKELA! MOVIE!

Wait, they’re gonna let Shere Khan just freaking walk away?!? MOVIE!!!

MOVIE!!!

Slow motion shot...

Kaa...

Wait, are we not even gonna see Shere Khan’s death? Is he even gonna die in this movie? At least give me that.

*jumps then drops jaw when Mowgli quickly takes out Shere Khan when he’s down*

*The elephant picks up Mowgli* Oh my gosh, I thought he was gonna throw him.

YEET!

This ending just felt rushed. Everything else was so great and then it’s all nice and cleaned up at the end.

NETFLIX WHY?!?

I don’t even like the song they chose for the credits.

Wait, they filmed in South Africa?

#the blogger reacts #mowgli #mowgli legend of the jungle #andy serkis #mowgli spoilers #spoiler tag just in case #netflix

124 notes · View notes

bubblesthemonsterartist · 5 years

Note

56 obiyuki (or maybe obikikiyuki if you are feeling spicy)?

Prompts are currently closed while I catch up. I will announcewhen I am open! :)

56. Caught off-guard kiss

Follow up to this.

When the first gust of wind cut through him thatday so long ago, drifting in behind his Mistress and Little Ryuu like asnowbank, he thought, perhaps, that he made a mistake. That he should turn back. That the soft stirrings of hisheart, the whispers of- of things best left unnamed that inspired him to follow, to kneel, to ask “isit alright if I stay?” were nothing more than a passing bought of insanity.

Twoyears, he mulled, turning down one empty street and then the next, each filled with fresh snow that crunched beneath his boots. Each nerve-ridden second brought him closer todawn. To reunion. Two years of this?

He stayed, of course. The weight of Masterssword tethering him to the earth where he might fly, and in that moment ofweakness, a lonely light had shined through the dark. A tailor, prone to nightsas restless as Obi’s own, fussed about his shop. He hadn’t even been shocked tohear the rapping at the door, a lonely traveler unprepared for the cold neitherrare nor unanticipated.

“It must be a girl,” his gravely voice hadchortled, dusting the snow off Obi’s shoulders and taking stock of his dress.“Only a girl could inspire a man to be so stupid.”

Weathered hands peeled his clothes from him, threadbarecotton and muslin shed from him like some abused reptile’s skin. A quick exchangeof gold was enough to transform him from a slippery thing scrambling in the darkto something powerful, something proud that could stand in the sun as easily asthe shadows. That creature, that being born from the weight of his Masterspurse and the sure hands of a craftsman that knew his art, is what met hisMistress at dawn. That stood guard, knee deep in snow, on the highest walls onthe coldest nights. Because he could. Because he wanted to be the person hisMiss and his Little Ryuu knew he could be.

But these days there was no tailor that couldwrap the hurt; that could weave a cloth fine enough to keep out the chill. Thecold was no longer a shivering touch but a vice, bearing down on fractured bone andsneaking into the crevices. In the early morning hours, when the freezewas at its deepest, it crept into the spaces where he had not yet healed, freezing andpressing against its confines so that he woke in the pitch of night, burnersgone cold and a leg throbbing.

And yet-

And yet, still, it did not hurt as much as themoment he realized his arms were empty. The space between them as gaping as thehole in his heart.

Sleep would not come after that.

So when he wakes, still warm, at dawn, the lightcreeping in through the windows no one bothered to shutter the night before,he’s confused. Even more so at the slight weight at his side, a familiar heftthat numbs his left arm. Brain churning with a mighty groan, he flips throughthe catalogue of all that it might be. It’s too uneven to be one of theweighted blankets Suzu had drapped over him in those early days in a vain attempt to keep himabed, and Kirito was too tall, too broad, and too much at the cusp of manhood these days to suffer the indignity of letting others know he felt cold. But he also cannot see Shidan letting one of the strays of Lyrias intohis precious pharmacy - no matter how beseeching their eyes may be - to curl inclose with him during the night.

Cracking one eye open, he has immediate regretswhen the first rays of sunlight creep over the sill to stab him in the eye. Grimacing, Obi scrubs his face with the arm not pinned down-

And blinks. Then blinks again.

A gnarled nest of red tucks itself up againsthis side.

His first thought is how he’s never seen a dog with that color coatbefore. The second, is how odd it is that someone would bother to wrap it in awinter wear when its fur should be enough. It’s not until his eyes trace down to the booted feet dangling off theside of the bed that the pieces finally snaps into place, and-

He must- he has to be dreaming.

But she grunts, face screwing up in discontent beforeburrowing against his side to hide from the sun, and he knows he’s not.

Obi scrubs his face again, then again, catchinghis laughter, his joy against his hand. Relief, gratitude, and pure bemusedaffection swirl in a strong concoction in his chest but- but he thinks he likesit. Better than the tonics they had been plying him with since she departed, at least.

What is she even doing here? He thought she wasn’tdue to return for at least a week, and even then, surely she would be morecomfortable in her own bed-

Eyes snapping back to her booted feet, hecarefully, slowly, sits himself up and yegods, hopefully this hurt will be as ignorable as the others soon. It’s adelicate process between bracing his weight on one arm and one leg while keeping her cradled close his side so she doesn’t roll off the bed. Gradually,he manages to hoist her stockinged feet onto the mattress, earning him a grumpygrunt that softens his heart to the point of mush.But she stays firmly asleep. Hell, her breathing doesn’t even hitch, not evenwhen he plucks at the lacing of her boots.

Little flecks of dried mud cover his bedspreadas he pries the first boot free and my my won’t Suzu be pleased? Obi reachesfor the other, maybe leaning a little too hard on his injured leg, and hisses. It’s-a lot. When both of her smelly stockings are finally exposed, they dart beneath the blankets, hiding themselves beneath his shin. Laughing beneath his breath, Obi drops himself back to his pillow. And doesn’t evenget to lock eyes with the ceiling before her arm hooks around his chest,dragging her body flush to his side once again.

His heart lurches uncomfortably, alreadypounding so hard in his chest, but the particular feeling of it being stabbedthrough is… a welcome one.

“Miss,” he sighs, smoothing down her hair. “Whatam I going to do with you?”

A muffled voice replies, “Let me sleep a little longer, I hope.”

His eyes widen when he catches the first glimmerof green through the net of her hair, peering up at him from its hiding place against his chest. Breathless, he asks, “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” she says, her voice a dreamy sigh,and ah, just this. Just her voice. There’s no words for how he longed for it. “Ichecked in with Suzu who said you’d be here. I couldn’t believe it when youwere actually sleeping.”

He quirks his lip in an innocent grin. “Justfollowing orders.”

She snorts into his side and he gets to see themoment that the fog clears away and those too clear eyes focus on his. “If the stories I heard last night are even a little true-”

Huffing, he interrupts her. “If he would stopfussing-“

“Obi,” her voice loses some of its sleep ladensoftness, its sharpness bringing him to heel. “He said Hiro had to talk you offthe battlements.”

His cheeks absolutely, positively do not go warm. “Well if someone hadn’t insinuated in her lettersthat I would be getting soft being abed all day-”

It takes him a minute to realize she’s- she’sshaking. She’s laughing. “Well, youhaven’t gotten too soft,” she says,arm sneaking under the blanket to wrap around his middle. He flexes, proving that definition was definitely still present, when her chilly fingersgrab ahold of his side and squeezes. “But it’s nice where you are.”

“That’s just loose skin!” he protests.

“Mm,” she hums, smoothing her palm down hisstomach.

He jolts. Just a little. “How was your trip?”

It takes her a moment to reply, fingers lingering near his bellybutton. When her thumb smooths down the patch of hair that runs from it, and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Good,” she says.

That was vague. “No evil lords to overthrow?” hedrawls, poking her cheek. “No great injustice to solve?”

Scrunching up her nose, she draws her hand backand buries her reddening cheeks in his blankets. “Not this time.”

Narrowing his eyes, Obi tries a new tact, pokingat her neck instead. He’s rewarded with a little muffled squeal. “And what aboutwhen you were on the road?”

One green eye peers up at him, narrow and jagged,like a piece of broken glass, and his stomach drops out. Ah, he foundsomething. Something that she hadn’t been willing to tell him in her letters.Something that his guilty mind can latch onto and chew like cud.

“Well,” she drawls, pushing herself up on herforearms. “There was one thing.”

He leans in, eager to hear. He’s had nothing buttime to think of possible dangers she could face; obstacles that she couldencounter, and now that she is safe and sound and in his arms he is… eager to pick apart the details anddetermine how he might have handled the task better. That he might havedispatched the bandits with more style than Shikito ever could or would have quelleda runaway horse before it even startled.

“One night,” she begins, leaning in close. “Iwoke up and I felt something tickling my face. At first I thought it wasYuzuri, but-”

Obi’s heart leaps into his throat. A spider. Itmust have been a spider with a venom that had her laid out in bed for days. Orworse, a scorpion. Maybe even- what were those demon bugs actually called? A centipede. “But?”

“It was a cockroach!” she cries, covering herface with her hands. “It was on my pillow and it’s little antennas weretickling my face!”

He stares.

“And then Yuzuri woke up and by then it had runonto her bedroll, so she was screaming, and-”

He can’t listen. Not for another second. Hishead hits his pillow as the laughter startles out of him so hard that it jars his leg.

“Obi!” Miss thwaps his chest with the back ofher hand, face burning so bright it may well be the same shade as her hair.“Obi, it’s not funny!”

Oh, but it is. “Sorry,” he gasps, clutching hisstomach. “Sorry, Miss- Please continue”

Her face is the most endearing little pout. “Itwas really big!” she says, gesturing with her two separated index fingers, andthere’s really… no way. He’s slept in some of the dirtiest slums in countless capitals and never saw anything approaching that size. “At least this much!And then it went down Yuzuri’s collar-”

Ever since he entered into his Masters service,he had sought to be good. Be better. Be the man that he wasn’t before. But noamount of Sir’s valor or Miss Kiki’s restraint or Master’s goodness can stopthe bark of laughter that punches out of him.

“Then!” Miss says, loud enough to be heard overthe racket of his own doing. “She shoots up, screeching, and starts tearing off herchemise and everyone in the other tents must have thought we were underattack-”

He might actually be crying now. He doesn’t know.He can’t feel his face.

“-And I’m trying to help her get it off, but thecord got snagged in her hair, and then Shikito and another soldier come intoour tent, swords drawn, Yuzuri had never been shy, but she goes redder than me. Even her thighs were blushing-”

“Stop!” Obi gasps, coughing, turning to hisside. “Stop, Miss, have mercy-”

“We never did find thecockroach,” she says, smile sly a bit later when he has caught at least half ofhis breath. “It must have crawled into the forest, but I don’t think Shikitobelieved either of us. He wouldn’t meet Yuzuri’s eyes for days-”

Giggling nonsensically, Obi turns into her,burying his face against her shoulder. When her arm wraps around him, sodelicately, as if his ribs were newly bruised, he asks, “And that’s the worstof it?”

“That’s the worst of it,” she laughs, nuzzling into his neck. Her body goes rigid suddenly, and she pulls back. “Well, that,” she says,lifting her hand to his cheek. The look on her face is solid befuddlement. “Andthe fact that your face wants to attack me now.”

It takes him a moment to catch her meaning. “Oh!” he grins, rubbinghis knuckles across his jawline. “What do you think?”

Head tilting, she says, “I didn’t think youcould grow a beard.”

“Well,” he says. “Obviously I can. But that’snot the point. Do you like it?”

Her nose wrinkles, lip drawing between her teethlike she’s not sure what to say. “It’s… different,” she says finally. “When didyou start growing it? A couple of days ago?”

Lips drawing thin, he says, “I haven’t shavedsince you left.”

“Not really?” Her lips tremble, eyes bright, and she touches the line ofhis jaw once again. “You should shave, I think.”

Frowning, he retorts, “Maybe I should grow itmore.”

“Don’t pout,” she teases.

“I’m not pouting, I’m just-” She bites her lips,but her dimples are showing, and it’s just- too much. She’s been gone for toolong and he’s missed her too much to not do something about it. Hand dartingout, he grabs her wrist and drags her to him, scratching his stubbleagainst the soft of her palm until she squeals.

“Obi!” she yelps, trying to tug her wrist fromhis grasp. He turns his face into her open hand, dragging his teeth against herwrist and her laughter turns high pitched and giddy.

“You’ve hurt its feelings, Miss,” he growls against her skin. “You only just met it and now you’re telling it to go.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It can stay!” she gasps,and he lets her hand go with a grin. She draws the poor abused thing to her breast,cradling it with her other hand as her thumb soothes the burn. Her face isflushed with laughter, voice breathless when she adds, “It’s a very manlybeard.”

“Why, thank you,” he preens, flopping back onhis back. It’s a little too hot now, the light beating on them, but, ah- who’s he kidding? He flew a little too close to the sun, he thinks, with the way hisskin thrums, with the way the salt of her skin tastes in his mouth, but it’s- it’s worth it. “Quite dashing if I do say so myself.”

“Let me-“Miss begins, drawing him out, and he turns towards her, only too late realizingthat she is leaning in. The corner of their mouths meet before he can stop and he- he freezes. She does, too. It’s only a beat too long later that she pullsback, face burning, that she adds “-uhm, kiss it better. That what was I wastrying to-”

Oh. His beard. Yes. Of course.

He opens his mouth to laugh. Or smile. Or saysomething to dispel the awkwardness. But his mouth, it just gapes. Like hers does. But her eyes are riveted, focused on his lips. And it’s justbeen so long since they saw each other and it feels so… natural… to lean backin again, to watch her lashes fall to half-mast as she leans in, too.

But-

She jerks back a bit. Sohe does, too. A flush spreads across his cheeks, a pain lodging itself deep inhis heart, and it’s just enough hurt that he can find his voice again.

“Why, Miss,” he begins,averting his eyes. “I didn’t know you missed me so mu-“

“Obi.”

The touch of her hand on his cheek startles him,the brush of her thumb against his lower lip numbing his tongue. She searches his face, and whatever she must find in his eyes sharpens the uncertainty in hers to one of determination. Shifting herself, her other hand lands on his chest, fisting inthe fabric.

He likes to think that he learned how to fightthe day he learned how to walk. His life has been nothing but a battle, nothingbut broken skin and bones and binds. And yet when she shifts, crawling up his body, she has him immobilized morecompletely than any opponent has ever accomplished and he- he can’t move. He doesn’twant to move. So he just watches asshe leans forward again, this time for real. This time with purpose. Withouthis say-so, one of his hands spans the small of her back, the other cradling the nape of herneck and she closes the distance between them so easily.

And she’s- she’s always been here. She’s alwaysbeen at his side. Always filled the space between them as easily as he’s madeit. He always thought that if the world wasn’t filled with better men than hewas or he was somehow good enough for someone like her, that kissing her would be… powerful. World-changing. Something that would break him and make him anew.

But-

But she already did that. Years ago.

So it’s nice. And soft. Less a storm and morethe gentle sliding of pieces into place. Her lips press against his and hedraws in a breath so filled with her that it touches every bit of him. It warms himwhere he feels cold; soothes the parts of him that has only known hurt.

And it’s- it’s them. Just them. Every click of skin meeting and parting, every soft sound shemakes into his mouth is somehow like every day since she came into his life. Herkisses taste like her and theirlives and all that they’ve built together in this place.

It tastes like home.

When she pulls back, he tries to follow. It’s toolittle, too much, he doesn’t know. He just doesn’t want it to stop. But shestays him with her palms against his cheeks, her forehead resting to his, and heopens his eyes to find her smile, beautiful and radiant, waiting for him.

“Obi,” she whispers, brushing her nose against his.“I’m home.”

His chest expands. It contracts. It cracks and breaks along fault lines, letting loose binds that kept his words trapped in his throat for far too long. It stings, the pain, but in a good way. For never has his mouth moved more effortlessly. Never have words come with such ease as when he replies,

“Welcome home.”

#bubbleswrites #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #valentines day prompts #these were only supposed to be a few hundred words long #but was i able to restrain myself?#was i??#the answer will shock you

27 notes · View notes