#mobile reply

Ellyn had felt terrible about the way she'd left things with him days ago. They'd argued and while she had wanted to defend herself further, she realized that it'd be best to have both of their selves cooled off so that communication could be made Still, it had been hard to shoulder the silence he'd given her after defending himself in the wake of her mood swing.

The Fae Queen spent the days following trying to decipher her own emotional outburst and the source of it all. Introspection had always seemed easier for mortals than herself; immortals tended to carry too many things buried within themselves and she was no better despite trying to keep up appearances saying otherwise. So, when she had more than a vague idea finally forming in her thoughts, she knew that setting another meeting at the shop could finally happen.

Any other sudden presence behind him would register as a threat, setting Vox on high alert. For Alastor though, he does the opposite.

His whole body responds, head tilting back to better expose his throat and legs spreading where he sits, giving Alastor free reign to touch as he pleases.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Vox chuckles, voice already raspy with anticipation. It seems he's more pent up than he thought he was, or Alastor is simply that arousing when he's forward like this.

"...?" It took only a split second for recognizing and adoration to color her face. Wide eyes were filled with love for the tiny oni.

"OH, storm cloud."

Her knees touched the ground, body bending over to reach her smaller statue. Given her massive height, she would need to physically adjust just to hold her daughter.

Horatio gave her a warm smile when she apologized to him, not believing there was any need for it. Sure, she went out to a bar with her friends, with the intention of enjoying herself to the fullest, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She was allowed to have fun, she was allowed to enjoy herself, so long as she remembered to take care of herself, too, and not drive, but she knew that already and she was capable of taking care of herself. Fully. She was also in good hands, surrounded other responsible adults. Rooster, especially.

Although he wasn’t the one to bring her home. It was Hangman, much to Horatio’s surprise. But not his dismay. He’s grown to like Jake after getting to know him a little more, his respect for the other pilot growing, though his arrogance and over confidence was still something that desired work. Or less of it, rather, and Horatio admittedly enjoyed the fact - maybe a little too much - that Hangman was sometimes intimidated by the Lieutenant. Phoe seemed to get a kick out of it, too, especially since there wasn’t a lot that could scare or intimidate the arrogant pilot. But the Lieutenant was one of them. He could humble the younger pilot real quick.

However, he was gone by the time Horatio arrived and that was likely due to Phoe’s insistence.

And when she insisted he didn’t have to watch this, Horatio remained. He wasn’t going to leave. “I’m not going anywhere. Alright?” He reassured her, not at all disgusted about the scene in front of him if that’s what she was worried about. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen someone vomit before. Hell, he’s seen much worse, so it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He did, however, move briefly to fetch a wet wash cloth to dab at her forehead with, wiping the sweat and even some of the vomit from her mouth. Her comment about the clams and nerves had him grinning just a little, appreciating that she still retained her sense of humor even while this sick. “No, it doesn’t sound like it, does it?” He chuckled, pulling his hand back when she turned back to the toilet, retching some more.

He hated seeing her like this. Hated the misery she was in, but he knew she’d start to feel better as soon as it was all out of her system. Then came another apology, though she didn’t outright say those words, but she could hear it in her voice. “Tonight is special in its own way, I think.” He responded, offering his own humor in an attempt to make her smile, even if just a little, but then his expression became soft again, his hand still rubbing her back. “Sometimes things don’t happen the way we want them to, and that’s okay. Just having you here is what’s important to me.” Whether they had a romantic dinner or not, he didn’t care. He just wanted her with him, and her being sick didn’t ruin that, he just hated this for her.

When the letter arrives at the officers lounge, it is addressed to neither of the two, but to Sir Crocodile himself. Written on the page, in Shanks' messy scrawl i simply: HONEY, WE RAISED A GOD.

Crocodile held the letter in his hand, face nigh expressionless. Behind him, chaos had errupted in the form of Buggy furiously squaking 'that good for nothing Red-Haired has been?? Who does he think he is?? Messaging MY lieutenant like he knows the guy?? If I see that damned idiot I'll take care of him myself!!!'

"Obviously the letter was not meant with either of us in mind," responded Mihawk's stoic drawl, though Crocodile knew the swordsman well enough by now to read the surprise in the tone.

Crocodile didn't bother to acknowledge either of them behind him, simply letting the smoke from his cigar flow around him as he read and re-read each word. A god. So. The rumors were true. Little Monkey D. Luffy had become a god. Tenacious little brat somehow kept being put in fates hands. So deep in thought was he that he didn't notice the press of Buggy's head against his arm in order to read over his shoulder at the letter. His concentration was broken when Buggy loudly explained right against his ear, "HONEY?!?!"

Fist crushed the letter into a crumpled ball as Crocodile swung his hand over to knock Buggy against the head.

"Get outta here, Clown!!! This doesn't concern you!!"

He quickly shoved up off from the desk and proceeded to stalk off towards his study, stepping over the whimpering form of Buggy and passed the all-knowing gaze of Hawkeyes.

Haneul lets it happen, for now. Raising a brow at the man’s actions. He made sure the other was finished before his fingers wrap around Tokki’s wrist, the one hand that was holding the market pen. “Having fun, hmm? You better not tell me that’s a permanent marker darling.” He takes the marker from the boy, still holding that wrist to make sure Tokki wouldn’t protest. “Since you seem to be having so much fun, then how about I have some fun too?” He uses his teeth to pop off the cap, thinking for a moment. What should he write.

"Property of Haneul.” Gets written on the man’s forehead. He doesn’t explain what he wrote and for sure he wasn’t going to let Tokki see what he had written. “There you go. Much better.” He smirks, only then releasing that wrist, but ready to grab the boy again if he tried anything funny. “Looking cute.”

he had been more than happy to have the opportunity to write on Haneul, that when it was flipped onto him, he hadn't been expecting it. he hadn't been mentally prepared for it but as the playfulness buffers the possession that Haneul was feeling, Tokki finds it was fine. it was strong, the transfer of emotions such an easy thing between them now that the thick, near bitter taste of possession was balanced with the saccharine of the playfulness making it like mixing sugar with liquid medicine.

small breaths, Tokki barely feels the marker on his forehead. he didn't need to see what the other wrote to know what was now on his forehead. there's a small twitch of his lips. so.. Haneul was possessive, hm? how fun~ the bun wasn't too surprised with what he knew of them, but so soon? he liked it.