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#I feel I didn't do this fic justice
fearandhatred · 2 months
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oh hi. this did not in fact take only an hour to write but hey it's done! any support is so so appreciated <3
also thread of me lowkey liveblogging myself (not) writing this lmaoo
Summary:
A fun little side perk of being a demon is that Crowley only gets to see the world in shades of grey. That is, until that world is touched by one particular angel.
They say that it's not the fall that hurts, it's the landing. That's a partial truth, at least for him. The landing did hurt—his bones had shattered almost methodically, travelling through his legs and up his spine like a shiver; the whiplash from his head hitting the ground had felt like an explosion of guts in his mouth. But the fall had hurt, too. Because the wind had cut into his useless wings like knives, his skin and grace peeling away under the friction, and he had been looking right up at the multicoloured and unreachable expanse of sky just to see it fade from his eyes into dull greys. And that was that. For the indiscriminate time afterwards, he and all the other demons wandered Hell's corridors like strays, lost and trying to adjust to a new life where hope looked just as bleak as despair. They wore all black, because the identifiability of that darkest shade meant that they wouldn't have to worry about clashing colours. An inconsequential problem, maybe, almost laughable in its insignificance, but it was the one piece of self-dignity they could still control. Back then, that was everything.
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ygodmyy20 · 8 months
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Okay this has been sitting in my drafts for awhile and I just gotta post it. I couldn't get this moment from @toastytoaster22's fic Don't Start Now out of my head from the end of the chapter. It just sat in my brain, being cute and adorable and warm like these two are! I 1000% felt like Shigeo's mom in the story, I can't with these two. They are so sweet.
I tried to get it to a soft-fuzzy-nice place which matched how I felt when I read it. I think i got there...? Sorta? Anyway gotta give thanks to Toasty for creating some of the most wonderful fics, they all make me feel so nice and happy every time I read them.
Also this started as a fan comic idea of the fic initially but my paneling skills are....weh not great haha but if anyone wants to see some REAL ROUGH comic outline it's under the cut. I do think one panel of Shigeo was nice.
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hey I know you said you were thinking about posting around April
Do you have a date in mind?
if not it’s perfectly ok we’ll be waiting as long as you need for the sun and moon ☺️
ahhh, anon! This is a loaded question, lol, not that you would know that. But here is the conclusion that I have come to, after many, many shifts, moves, outlining rounds, trial and error, etc.
I have unfortunately decided that I have enough material for two fics.
In some ways, it was a little silly of me to think I could squeeze Jerejean's POV all into one fic when I had the material of both DON & DBD to work with. But here we are. After cutting three chapters altogether (THREE anon!!) and doing my best to cut the other chapters ruthlessly, I'm still looking at about 60K words, unfinished, and I haven't even touched DBD's timeline yet.
So, although I reserve the right to change my mind, I've decided instead of publishing Once In a Blue Moon, I will first be uploading Place in the Sun - a fic focusing on Jerejean's relationship through their time at USC. And yes, my goal is still to publish it in April. (Wish me luck, anon 😭😭)
Now I have to be clear since the timing is sensitive. For better or worse, I have established Jeremy's and Jean's characters in this AU with the limited canon information I had before TSC. Once TSC is published, these characters will likely conflict with what Nora has decided, but I won't be changing them. Where canon fits into the plan, I'll look to include, but the family members I've made up for them, friends, agents, personality quirks, etc., etc., I'm going to keep true to the AU I've built. It is what it is at this point, and though I feel somewhat awkward about it since I've tried to keep their characters close to canon, I'm very proud and happy with the A Falling Star series. I'd like to finish Kerejean's stories and do them justice as I've always planned to.
This in no way diminishes my excitement for TSC - I'm beyond thrilled that Nora has decided to give us canon Jean, Jeremy, and all the Trojans. It's going to be amazing and devastating and everything we've hoped for, I'm sure. But I have to be fair to the fic I've created as well.
So....there we have it, anon. Hope that answers your question. 😅
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bnesszai · 2 years
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Nami who is scared shitless and facing death but won't denounce her captain Nami who is scared shitless but won't let anyone harm her friends Nami who is scared shitless but will attack someone objectively stronger than her for hitting a kid Nami who is scared shitless but alwaysalways fights for her family and what she believes in
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roseadleyn · 1 year
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❝ we're a mess
you and i,
but the truth is,
you captivate me in ways
no soul ever will. ❞
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a moodboard of Black and Blue Hearts, the absolutely perfect fic written by my dearest loekas <333
tagging; @loekas and @that-one-pretty-bitch
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geometricalien · 9 months
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤
awww thank you for including me. this has just been sitting in my box for the past couple of days but HERE I AM- in no particular order:
This doesn't really have a name... It's just called Merman AU
and it's not a 'fanfic' it's half a collection of headcannons for this AU and half snippets from this idea that I posted on tumblr at @haikyuu-aus-cuz-i-cant-write (oops look who has actually written now jfdksalf) basically this is a cross between the little mermaid and the monkey's paw. I really liked this but it was wayyy too big of an idea for me to write and you can see that I stopped after writing Suga's wish which is reallly funny considering this whole idea spawned from wanting a mermaid/human bokuaka AU and i was not near to getting to the meat of the story at all
Things That Hold Us Together: Steel Bolts and Tender Hearts
yes i just recently posted this, yes i've had this in my folders for like 3 years. this one... this was spawned from an old friend - who i don't speak with anymore - offhand comment that a fanart looked like akashi was an android. four hours after they said that i had half of this fic, and they said it was the best writing i ever shared with them. they encouraged me to expand it but i kept hitting a wall and then we had a falling out and through out the years ive been coming back to this trying to add and edit and i decided to reclaim it as my own and publish it. the idea is that it's an introduction to a lighthearted sitcom/romcom between decommissioned war android akashi and engineer who fixed him up furihata
Language Barriers
i cyclically get star trek brainrot and this time it had a dash of akafuri, i really like how i described things in this one since furihata doesn't think in words but emotions and images instead, idk it was a good writing exercise
Horror wip
ive been hemming and hawing at it for literal months now because i have one central driving image behind my eyelids that i want to get to. its just been... harder than usual to get to it. i've rewritten like 3 times trying to get it write. i've currently landed on 2nd person narration with some thrown in spices of 1st person to signify that we are in the being- akashi's- point of view haunting furihata (the you) and its giving me an opportunity to make the reader feel akashi's destroying love from the front seat. my other goal with this is to write some surrealistic imagery soooo yeP
I Will Follow You Down Through The Gates of Hell
i cant not include this. this damn fic/series/idea has been brewing in the back of my mind for so damn long if it was a human child it could hold a fucking conversation. the imagery. the themes. the depth of emotion- AND WE ARE BARELY GETTING INTO THE WAR!? ITS BEEN 50K+ WORDS AND ITS JUST GETTING STARTED (or ending, if you wanna look at it that way) idk its... its been so long since i wrote part 1 that that fic doesn't feel like "mine" anymore? idk but it always makes me smile seeing an email saying that someone else liked the fics too.
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cherryjuicegf · 2 years
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"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver and Yengilla, if you're down!
thanks for the prompt anon!! sorry it's late but this was very interesting to write nonetheless, i hope you enjoy ♡
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wild geese - mary oliver
"Sweet Melitele." Yennefer sits across the hooded figure in the table and smirks. "Did the great White Flame get weary of his loyal mage?"
Two dark eyes nail her immediately. "Quiet." A shadow resembling fear passes through her hidden face and her voice is hushed, unvoluntarily quivering. Her shoulders tense, then, gaze and voice suddenly sharp. "Spare me you pride, Yennefer." She makes to stand from the table. "I want nothing to do with you."
"Fringilla."
Almost on instinct, she stops. She can leave. She can get out of this tavern and take care of not seeing the woman across her ever again, so that she doesn't hear her voice, she doesn't meet her eyes, she doesn't remember.
But that voice is different than other times. Almost softer.
She looks at Yennefer, and waits. Oh, she is not here to mock.
"How about some company?" Yennefer asks and puts her ale on the table.
Fringilla takes a deep breath, and lowers herself back on the chair, legs still ready to run. But it's not like she will find any company elsewhere. She hasn't talked to a person in weeks.
For a while, Yennefer is silent. Peering at her and she discerns the way her gaze lingers on her face, looks behind the facade of clean clothes. At the weariness that slumps her shoulders, the exhaustion in her eyes.
She wants to distract her but doesn't care enough to do it anymore.
Yennefer shakes her head. "How long have you been on the run?"
A smile, bitter. Days, weeks. Her whole life. "It doesn't matter," she says and, against all odds, she laughs. There's nothing else left anyway. "It doesn't matter after all, does it? It doesn't matter how good, how loyal, how strong you are. It doesn't matter if you trust, if you have faith." Her voice starts shaking again but Yennefer's eyes seem welcoming for the first time. "They will always, always burn you to the ground, because they can. And I was so good." Her eyes are burning but now, more than ever, it's only rage. "I was the best."
Her voice breaks.
There she stands, across Yennefer of Vengerberg, looking straight at her, and knowing more than she wanted to know. And Yennefer shakes her head. Yennefer, somehow, understands.
"Is it so bad, then?" She sounds quieter than usual, she who exists like a bomb. "Wanting to belong as you are? Not be good, or loyal or cruel. Just... be."
Is it so bad, then?
Is it not what she wants, now, after everything?
She doesn't answer. She only looks at Yennefer, at everything she could never be, everything she never had to be. Everything that didn't matter if she ever was or wasn't, because she would end up the same.
And only with a nod, she stands up.
Yennefer's eyes follow her as she steps away. "If you want help..."
And isn't it funny? Fringilla can't help but huff. She shakes her head. "I'll figure it out."
She turns around and walks to the door without looking back.
She feels two violet eyes still nailed on her back as she closes the door.
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slut4jeon · 2 months
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Everybody knows I’m a good girl, officer (jjk)
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Officer!Jk x fem reader
Summary: Tiredly calling it a night after attending your workplaces celebration New Year's Eve party. You may have or not ran through a stop sign foolishly thinking no one would have been around to witness it…oh how wrong you were
Warnings: mature (18+), smut, degradation, unprotected sex, Voyeurism, don't read this if this does not interest you!! You have been warned!
I had this prepared early Jan but tumblr didn’t save my writing :(( so I gave up on it lmao. I also really wanted to write smth w tsx jungkook. The police trend w the Lana song gave me inspo for this although the actual trend isn’t in the fic.
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You were calling it a night, exiting the noisy building that is your workplace. There was a currently a party in the building where your coworkers were celebrating the New Year's.
You were tired. The loud music and chatters annoying you. You chose a safer route tonight, sticking to sparkling cider since you were driving yourselves home tonight.
The cold air hitting your bare skin leaving goosebumps over your entire figure as youstep out into the windy area heading towardsyour parked car.
That's the consequence of wanting to look good and presentable for a celebration, you of course always look stunning. It doesn't hurt to get ready. You were currently sporting a black ysl mini along with a deep v neckline and a pair of matching black pumps. The shoes, also annoying by how sore they left your feet.
Black heels clicking onto the floor as you begin entering your car as you drove into the pitch black night. Admiring the way the twinkling city lights look, along with the lit up buildings and lampposts. You got a little too carried away when you were oblivious to the stop sign you foolishly didn't stop and passed by.
Regret lingered in your chest as you panicked over your foolish action. Perhaps you'd be fine as it is the late night and no cars were present, oh how wrong you were.
The sound of a police siren began ringing as the bright red and blue lights gaining up on the tail of your car. You pulled onto the side of the road swiftly and put your car in park. Your trembly hands gripping both hands onto the steering wheels most definitely leaving your palms and knuckles white. That's when you heard 3 knocks on your left side window.
"Shit" you muttered. Feeling a rise of mixed movement in your lower belly as you begin lowering your window. There you met the gaze of a handsome officer.
"Driving late on New Years Day? When everybody's drinking and celebrating tonight. License and registration." He spewed with a hint of sarcasm.
"Yes, of course." Your hand quickly traveled to your glove compartment pulling out the documents. Then, pulled your license from your clutch.
As he inspected you couldn't help but gaze at him. His raven black sleek parted hair showing off a bit of forehead. His black button up dress shirt that was tucked in the matching black jeans, and rolled up from the sleeves stopping before the elbows to show off his meaty arms that were covered in artworks of tattoos.
The stern look he holds as looking at your documents. The burrowed brow and line wrinkles in between the brows. He was attractive, godly attractive.
"Step out the vehicle for me" he said. You did as told
You couldn't help but gaze at him. He was an attractive specimen. But soon you were ripped out of your thoughts.
"Walk along that yellow line"
"Officer I'm not drunk or anything of the sor-" you were interrupted
"You were given instructions. I expect you to follow them." he bluntly said
Obeying his words you stepped foot onto the yellow line. The cold air doing you no justice as you were trembling from it.
What you weren't aware of was how he stared at your ass that was threatening to spill out of the little piece of flimsy material you call a dress.
Turning around, his gaze caught you off guard at how he stared at you as a helpless little fawn about to be hunt down by a hungry wolf.
"I'm gonna pat you down. Step right by the car for me, palms flat onto the vehicle", he demanded.
Swiftly obeying, you got into position. Beginning his pat down inspection from head to toe. His muscular hands roamed over your body. You wondered whether your goosebumps was from the cold wind or his slithering fingers tracing over your open skin.
As he got lower and lower, padding the waist and soon hips he made sure to grope onto your flesh just in case of any dangerous possessions.
You were a whimpering mess, biting into your bottom lip to suppress any noise coming out of your mouth. The attractive officer had an effect on you. Especially when passing your thighs and ankles, rising back to the top his movement slowed as he reached back to your thighs.
You let out suppressed mewls as his fingers inched towards your inner thighs. Your legs were gonna give up at any threatening moment. You questioned whether he caught onto your reaction to his touch.
His fingers were dangerous close to your soaking cunt. You were took aback at his touch you could not longer suppress the noises that urged to come pass your lips. Your heat was aching for his touch.
He took notice to your glistening folds in with your juices threatening to spill out of your wine red lace panties. The officer could no longer resist the temptation of the sweet treat in front of him.
Riding your dress a bit up his face inched closer to your cunt, nose and all. Hooking his fingers onto your panties and pushing them aside, he ate you out from behind. Your knees about to give in as he ate your pussy like a starved man. His tongue lapped over your clit playing with the cute bud left you a whiny mess.
"Please” you voiced out quietly
How cute, the officer thought. His fingers lathered your juices, leaving them coated and dripping. The sudden intrusion of his long fingers intruding into the tight ring of your hole.
With your mouth agape, your mind was left into a frenzy at how good the officer worked his fingers into your soaking cunt.
"Clenching onto my fingers, aren't you a little eager thing?", he said
You looked back to him to see his pretty pouty lips all swollen and tinted from eating you out. Your juices trailing down his chin and neck. He looked too edible.
He sensed you were near as your gummy walls clamped onto his fingers. Quickly pulling them out and robbing you of your release you mewled at the empty feeling.
You were a minx he thought. His cock hardening and imprinting his jeans. The feeling got only tighter as his fingers savored the taste of your pussy juices that coated his index and middle.
He needed more. Turning your body swiftly around the officer face to face with you connected both mouths together. His hands sneaked onto your hips and lower onto your ass making sure to grip the plumpy flesh.
You couldn't help out moan into his mouth as you both were in ecstasy. You needed more.
"Need to fuck that pussy, will you let me pretty thing?", who were you to deny him?
Eagerly nodding your head in confirmation. "Words, pretty", the officer said
"Please fuck me", you said in a desperate manner. That's all it took for him to roughly turn you around and begin grinding his hard length into your ass.
Desperate for friction you pushed out for him, like a bitch in heat. Your dress being a nuisance for him he unzipped you, freeing your bare body to be in display of his hungry eyes.
You wore no bra as the dress had padding, all you were left in was your wine lace panties. His lips traveled from your neck to breasts. Scattering marks as if he were leaving burns.
The way his teeth clamped onto your bud, sucking and pulling. Something about the way you were fully bare at his mercy as he remained fully clothed while he played with your pussy had you rubbing your thighs together.
"Officer please, fuck me!", you could no longer take it.
He smirked at your eagerness. Finding it humorously cute at how much of a cock hungry whore you are.
Your ears perked at the noise of him fumbling with his belt. His cock sprung free fully erect as he began aligning it to your entrance.
"O-oh! Fuck.., officer!", you blabbered incoherently as the intrusion of his length stretched your hole.
"-shit, such a tight little pussy", his pace greedily fastened.
You were a mess. All that was heard in the quiet night was the way he rammed his cock into your pussy. Balls slapping against your clit.
"Such a whore you are, aren't you? You like getting rammed from behind by an officer out in the outdoors?" he said as he continued abusing your cunt.
"Who would've thought a pretty thing like you was such a dirty slut, huh?" Your walls clenched by each word coming out of his filthy mouth.
"yes!yes!yes!", he fucked you deliciously good, your orgasm threatening to approach with his current pace.
You were cock drunk. Barely paying any kind of attention to the fact you were getting rammed out in public. Any person or car could pass by but your mind would only be focused on the way his dick drilled at a relentless speed.
His fingers sinked to your clit, rubbing your bud provoking your body to tremble in ecstasy of how he worked wonders on your body.
"Sir, i-it's too much!"
"You can take it ,baby. Milk my cock, make a mess.”
His words were perfectly on cue. Creaming his cock in your release. Falling limp into his arms. His release wasn't too far off yours. Head leaning into your neck as both of your panted. Silence went on for a few minutes before he helped with re-dressing you.
The officer broke the silence, "So, the names Jungkook. Could we perhaps exchange numbers, I'd like to take you out sometime soon.”
- end
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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DCxDP fic idea: Keep the God Kid Busy!
So the JL are messing around with magical artifacts that shouldn't be. Well, it's more like they stopped a considerable cult that was running around killing people across multiple countries, which made it hard to pin them down. Thankfully, they finally gather all of their ritual stuff and are now placing it in the storage on the watchtower to study and safeguard.
Someone accidentally activates something- I'm thinking Booster gold or maybe plastic man?-by touching it with a hand bleeding from a paper cut. They didn't think it was going to affect anything, but suddently the large slap of stone with unknown writing starts glowing glowing then its starts leaking oozing green goo and everyone panics. They call in Batman assuming he know what to do.
And he does.
He calls John Constantine who looks at the slab with a confused frown. It's not that he can't read it, but rather it's confusing to read.
""I'm here to protect but only if you text," John reads out loud. When the others give him looks, he raises his hands. "Word by word, I swear. But this is thousands of years old. Older than Göbekli Tepe, so I don't understand why this being knows the word text."
"Could they have meant text as in a ancient writing?" Batman asks.
"Not with the cellphone next to it" and now that Constantine points it out, the hieroglyph next to the writting, does look like a old cellphone- not a flip phone but a early design of blackberry.
"What is the slab of stone doing?"
"Summoning a Ancient" Constantine says
Wonder woman freezes "A God!? It's getting a God"
The ooze raises turning into a swirling portal right above the ground. A few of heros feel a odd sense of danger and comfort coming from it. Constantine sighs rubbing his eyes.
"Yeah and he's almost here. So we should think of what to say instead of oops it was a accident"
And just like that Danny Phantom, High King of the Dead, is standing above the stone looking around wide
The ooze raises turning into a swirling portal right above the ground. A few of heros feel a odd sense of danger and comfort coming from it. Constantine sighs rubbing his eyes.
And just like that, Danny Phantom, High King of the Dead, is standing above the stone, looking around with comprehensive eye
"Omg, is the world ending?! The Justice League summoned me cause the world is ending, right?! I'm ready! I'm so ready! LETS DO THIS"
It seems Danny Phantom is also a really excitable being. It's a bit unnerving how it reminds them of Klarion the Witch Boy
The justice league, in order to avoid offending the highest god just make up a random emergency at Constantine recommention because higher beings do not like being called for no reason.
They call in the rest of the league to keep up the lie in a controlled environment and soon are taking him across the world helping with "disasters."
Danny is meanwhile fanboying out because it's the JUSTICE LEAGUE. They called him! He was helping BATMAN :D!
He takes a selfie with the big bat in the background and texts it to Tucker and Sam, throwing peace sign.
His friends respond with lots of excited emojis.
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edenesth · 3 months
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The Way to His Heart [9]
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Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.2k
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 8 | Fic Masterlist | Part 10
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Standing in front of the door to your former prison, all your insecurities came rushing back. Suddenly, your newfound identity seemed to evaporate, leaving you feeling like nothing more than a shell of your past self.
"What's wrong, my dear? Why do you keep staring at this storeroom, hm? You know you can tell me anything." Seonghwa asked in a gentle voice, sensing that you were far from okay. He cupped your cheek tenderly, urging you to meet his gaze.
Jongho and Eunsook stood anxiously behind you, waiting for you to reveal the truth to the general. Only then could they finally bring your family to justice for their misdeeds. The weight of everyone's expectations rested on your shoulders.
Please, mistress, just say it, and we will handle the rest.
No matter how hard your husband tried to capture your attention, all you could see was beyond his shoulder, where your family glowered at you. All the determination you had to confront your family diminished, and you were reminded of your true self.
Just a worthless, insignificant piece.
You felt undeserving of Seonghwa's love, too ashamed to confess that this pitiful excuse for a room was where you had spent your entire caged childhood. Would he still want you as his wife if he discovered the truth?
"Come on, my dear. Talk to me, please." The general leaned in, attempting to dominate your field of vision. He didn't like how you kept glancing nervously back at your family as if still afraid of what they could do to you.
Your husband's heart shattered as he gazed once more into your vacant, hopeless eyes. It felt as if he could never truly connect with you. Once again, he found himself lost, unable to reach you. It became clear that your biggest obstacle wasn't trusting him; it was trusting yourself. Despite all his efforts, your insecurities persisted.
Bringing you back to this place seemed like a colossal mistake, undoing all the progress you had made. The words Hongjoong had spoken to you were now pushed to the recesses of your mind, overshadowed by your demons.
Seonghwa's stomach sank when you averted your gaze, blinking your wet eyes with a shake of your head, "Nothing, it's nothing. I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I kept looking here; it's just an old storeroom, as you can see." Your family collectively sighed in relief, narrowly avoiding exposure. For once, they felt slightly thankful to you for not ratting them out.
Of course, it couldn't have been this easy.
Despite the internal frustration, the general flashed a reassuring smile down at you. His plan had crumbled, and you didn't speak up as he had hoped. The head maid and assistant couldn't conceal their disappointment at the missed opportunity.
Casting a glance at his assistant to silently acknowledge the failure of the plan, he squeezed your trembling hand, "It's alright, nothing to be sorry about. Well, if that is all, perhaps we can begin discussing the wedding arrangements then."
Minister Jang immediately brightened, "Of course, let us get on with it. I'm sure we have much to discuss."
With a subtle shake of his head, Jongho signalled to the private investigator that the plan wasn't unfolding as expected. Noticing the exchanged glances, your father raised an eyebrow, "Wooyoung, do you and the general's assistant know each other?"
Both froze momentarily, cursing inwardly at their lack of caution. The fake servant beamed innocently at the minister, "Oh yes, master! I thought he looked familiar; turns out we were from the same village!"
The assistant nodded along quickly with a wide smile, "Yes, what a small world."
Fortunately, the fabricated story seemed convincing, and your father nodded without suspicion, "Huh, what are the odds? Just don't let me catch you slacking off. If you want to catch up, do it after work."
Wooyoung grinned quickly, "Yes, master!" before bowing deeply. Glancing at the general for approval, he was relieved to see Seonghwa nodding lightly, silently expressing 'good job'. His heart raced, still finding it surreal that he was looking at his role model up close and being acknowledged.
Resettling into the main hall, your husband couldn't hide his concern for you. He maintained a firm grip on your hand, a constant reminder of his presence and an attempt to provide comfort despite your lack of reaction to anything. Eunsook, noting your distress, made a point to stay close behind you, silently assuring you of her support.
"Alright then, where should we begin?" Minister Jang clapped his hands together, eager to get it all over with as soon as possible.
Seated opposite you, your three sisters were still seething, their attention fixed on the general's unwavering touch on you. Refusing to concede defeat, they were determined to fight for Seonghwa, unwilling to witness you marrying their dream man in a grand wedding ceremony. He was too good for you.
She doesn't deserve him.
Before the two men could delve into any details, Jinhee, tired of her sisters always being a step ahead, seized the opportunity to speak up, "General Park, I believe I would make a better wife than unnie ever could. I urge you to change your mind and consider choosing me."
Jinah and Jinjoo scowled, feeling a sense of betrayal as they hadn't anticipated the sudden spiritedness from their middle sister. She had always been the calmest among the three. It appeared that the allure of the general was potent enough to pit them against each other for the first time.
The minister smacked a hand on his face in disbelief, growing tired of his stepdaughter's obnoxious behaviour. Just as he opened his mouth to reprimand her, the other two chimed in loudly, "No, I'd make a better wife!" before glaring at each other.
Pressing a kiss onto your knuckles to rile them up, your husband stared at the girls with an amused grin, "Really? Do you think you'd make a better wife? Why don't you each tell me why you think so? I'll consider it."
It was apparent that the general was merely toying with them, but the three were oblivious and engaged in a heated debate among themselves, striving to convince Seonghwa that each of them would make the ideal wife for him.
Meanwhile, you silently accepted your fate, believing that your husband was present to entertain the idea of replacing you with one of your stepsisters. If that's what he desired, who were you to object? You considered yourself fortunate to have been sent to him, and now that he had seen your sisters, perhaps he sought someone better than your useless self.
The general burst into a fit of vicious laughter, singling out the middle sister who promptly straightened up, "You," he pointed, "it seems like you have the most convincing argument. I suppose that makes you the most suitable for me, doesn't it?"
Jinhee vigorously nodded, "Yes, my lord!"
With a sly smile, he continued, "Very well, I'll consider marrying you, but on one condition that your father must agree to," Her eyes widened in excitement while her sisters clenched their fists in frustration, dissatisfied with her being chosen, "Anything! Just name it, and you shall have it!"
"If Minister Jang agrees to retire from his position and let me take over, then I guess I'll think about it."
Your father heaved a deep sigh, frowning at the foolish girl in irritation, "That's enough, Jinhee. Are you even hearing yourself? None of that will ever happen. I'm sure the general is only joking around."
Her stubbornness prevailed as she continued to press, "Father, this is for my happiness! If you loved me, you would agree to that!"
Even her own mother, finally sober enough, shook her head disapprovingly, "Stop it, Jinhee. Do you know what it would mean for the rest of us if your father were to retire?"
Having enjoyed the comedic display, Seonghwa chuckled darkly, "Your father's right; I was only playing with you. After all, I couldn't possibly marry you, even if he had agreed to that condition."
"Why is that?!" She questioned, still determined to have him for herself. She hated the sight of him cradling your hand; it should be her beside him. She had gotten so close to having him earlier that she refused to let the opportunity slip away so quickly.
For some reason, the minister couldn't shake off the ominous feeling he was getting from your husband's smugness. Something wasn't right; this felt oddly like a trap.
In a mock-innocent voice, the general answered, "Isn't it simple? Because you're not even Minister Jang's legitimate daughter; you do realise you're merely his stepdaughter, right?"
Your father and stepmother's eyes immediately widened, knowing exactly where this was going. Before they could do anything to stop it, Jinhee yelled out, "But I am father's real daughter!"
Gotcha, bitch.
Jongho and Eunsook did their best to suppress the growing grins on their faces, relieved that at least their master's plan B seemed to have worked out. During the assistant's time away from the estate, working with Wooyoung, they had managed to confirm the general's suspicions about the three being Minister Jang's actual daughters.
This revelation itself was enough to bring him down, as the three were born when your mother was still alive. And if they were, in fact, his, that would mean he had been disloyal to his wife and had fathered bastard children outside. This was more than enough to tarnish his reputation for good.
Rising abruptly from his seat, the minister cleared his throat loudly, "General Park, please don't take her words seriously. Clearly, she only said that out of desperation. The girl is still young and doesn't know when to stop; do not mind her. Come, let us take our discussion somewhere else."
"Save it, minister. If she isn't your daughter, where would she have gotten the confidence to voice that out loud? Don't make me laugh." Seonghwa retorted coldly.
Finally, you lifted your head to stare at the old man upon hearing the revelation. Could it be true? You didn't know if it was supposed to make you feel any better, but you used to question why your father had treated you so badly when you were his only real daughter. Now, it would make more sense, at least.
Scoffing, Minister Jang clenched his fists, "I would advise you to be careful with your words, general. After all, it wouldn't be too wise of you to slander your father-in-law and superior so carelessly like that. What would His Majesty think of you being unfilial and disrespectful to me?"
If your father thought that threat could save him, he was wrong; it seemed he was only digging himself a deeper grave.
The general peered amusingly at him through his lashes, "You know, it's really funny you should say that. Would it still be considered slander if I had evidence to back up my claims? Oh, minister, you should not have brought the King into this. He was already so disappointed in you when he learned of the truth about you and your dirty deeds throughout the years."
"Wh-what do you mean by that?" The minister stammered, visibly trembling in his spot, and his family could only sit back with terror in their eyes, not knowing what your husband had uncovered.
"Minister Jang, did you really think the King had allowed me to come here just to make wedding arrangements with you? I'd rather burn in hell than have you host my wedding, especially after what you had done to my wife in all the years she had been under your care. I'm only here for your confession, under His Majesty's orders."
A series of gasps rang across the hall as your stepmother and stepsisters froze in their seats, the realisation finally hitting them that they had been under scrutiny this whole time. It became apparent since the minister's suspicious behaviour at the assembly.
Little did everyone know that Seonghwa's investigative work had been funded by the King himself the entire time. The two had shared a deep conversation after the assembly; what initially started off as idle chatter regarding the general's new wife transitioned into a serious discussion as your husband revealed what he discovered about the minister thanks to your arrival.
Your eyes widened at Seonghwa's words, wondering if he had known all along about what had happened to you. Feeling your gaze on him, he turned to face you with a soft smile, "I told you I'd protect you."
Feeling your heart flutter and eyes tearing up with tears of relief, you finally squeezed his hand back, "Thank you, Seonghwa."
Cutting your moment short, your father shook his head in denial, "You're lying. Nice try, General Park. I'm not falling for your trick. If you were telling the truth, why would His Majesty have bothered to send you here when he could have just arrested me?"
Turning back to face the old man, your husband smirked, "Now, where would all the fun be in that? Of course, I didn't expect you to admit everything to me so easily. It was fun watching all of you panic in front of the so-called storeroom earlier. I hope you enjoyed the temporary relief, courtesy of my lovely wife. Someone, bring the minister a chair before we start recounting all the interesting things he's done so far."
Jongho was more than happy to help, "Yes, sir!" He promptly moved a chair to the centre of the hall where the minister stood before returning to his position behind his master.
Your stepmother and stepsisters remained glued to their seats, hearts filled with dread. Jinhee regretted her every action immediately, not that it made much difference. They were already doomed from the moment they delivered you to him.
"Will you not sit, Minister Jang?" Seonghwa teased, and when the old man glared at him, he shrugged, unbothered, "Suit yourself. Let us begin then."
The general stretched a waiting hand in his assistant's direction and waited as the younger man fished a few documents out from his pockets, "Here you go, sir."
"Alright, let's see, where should we start?"
With a devilish grin, your husband flipped through the pages, addressing the minister, "So, were you denying that these three are your biological daughters? Not to worry, I have just the thing to prove it. See, we have their birth certificates and the fake ones you forged right here. You bribed your physician quite a bit for these, huh? Well, it seems the amount you paid was not nearly enough since he spilt everything to us so easily."
The minister's wife pointed a shaky finger at the papers in Seonghwa's hands, "Th-that's not possible. How did you get your hands on those documents?"
"Ah, so you admit these are yours?" The general raised a brow, "I get it; it's hard not to when the only copies to exist were found in your private quarters, hm? I'll have precious Wooyoung to thank for these. Come here, boy. You should be so proud of yourself."
"Thank you, my lord! I'll work harder!"
In front of the minister and his family, the mole finally unveiled himself. All five of them could only gape at the new employee who had recently joined the estate. They praised him for his work and even thought of him as a hard worker. Suddenly, it all made sense why he always seemed too eager to help around. He had been snooping around for the enemy all along.
Your father pointed accusingly at the fake staff member of his estate, "Y-you traitor—"
"How can he be a traitor when he was never on your side to begin with? Let's not change the subject, alright? Now, let us conclude the number of crimes you've committed here; first, you've cheated on your wife and had not only one but three illegitimate children outside of your home. I must say, minister, you're setting a horrible example for the married men in all of Joseon." Seonghwa shook his head in disapproval.
"Next, you've bribed your physician to silence him and then get him to further commit the crime of forging official documents for you. I guess this could have been understandable if it had been a silly little commoner not knowing any better, but my goodness, you are our nation's Minister of Military Affairs! What would the people think of us if they knew their leaders were this unethical?"
"And the worst of it all, you kept my wife caged in that pathetic excuse of a room all her life. You all had a hand in her suffering and abused her endlessly, all for your own entertainment. And what had she done that was so wrong to deserve any of that? Just because she was born from the wife you did not choose and love?" The general spat, feeling his heart ache and anger rise.
It was your turn to rub a thumb softly over his skin to remind him that you were fine now; you were loved and cared for, all because of him. He tightened his hold on your hand, vowing to get you justice.
"Can any of you even call yourselves human?" He growled, glaring at your family. Your stepsisters trembled, avoiding his death stare, feeling like complete idiots, especially after their stupid little innocent act earlier. Why did they even believe for a second that they could have fooled him?
With a deep breath, Seonghwa put on a sarcastic smile, "And with all of that, it should be enough for you to be stripped of your title and for your entire family to be demoted from a noble house to commoners."
The old man's knees went weak, and he ended up plopping into the chair Jongho had placed behind him. Clenching his fists, he shook his head again, "No, you can't do this to us. You can't do this to me. I've dedicated my life to this job and this country. I have contributed so much—"
Smirking, the general cut him off, "Why? Are you unsatisfied with this conclusion? I expected no less from you, you ungrateful bastard. Fine, I guess we'll have no choice but to dive deeper and talk about your most severe crime then."
There's... more?
Furrowing your brows, you wondered what other horrible things your father could have possibly done. Everything that your husband had already listed seemed like a lot to you.
Your stepmother gasped loudly, clutching onto her chest as she took in the general's wicked grin, "He knows..."
Jinah frowned, grabbing her mother's arm in confusion, "What is it? What does he know? What else has father done?" The other two sisters stared at their parents, who looked scared for their lives.
"Yes, I do know, Lady Jang. Did you really think the two of you could keep your dirty little secret hidden forever? As if adultery and illegal document forgery weren't bad enough, you were both audacious enough to commit murder against an innocent person."
Minister Jang and his wife shared a horrified glance, realising that the veil of secrecy they had meticulously woven was now unravelling before them. The colour drained from their faces, and beads of sweat formed on their foreheads.
The mistress of the Jang estate stammered in fear, "N-no, that's not true! You're making baseless accusations, General Park. We haven't committed any murder!"
The general remained unfazed, a cold stare fixed upon them, "Really? You haven't? Then tell me, why do the two of you seem so afraid? You weren't trembling with fear when you poisoned the first Lady Jang to death, and you certainly weren't afraid when you robbed my wife of her mother."
Staring at your father and stepmother in horror, a wave of disbelief crashed over you. The revelation hit like a tidal wave, leaving you stunned and paralysed. The people you thought were simply cruel for torturing you all your life had now revealed a more sinister truth – they were the reason you never knew your own mother.
The shock and betrayal etched across your face, your eyes locked onto theirs as the weight of their sins settled in. It wasn't just about the abuse and mistreatment; they had orchestrated a tragedy that deprived you of the one person who could have brought warmth and love into your life.
"And what evidence do you have to prove that?" The minister finally mustered the courage to challenge the accusations, still putting up a fight. His three daughters, nearly as shocked as you were by the revelation, couldn't fathom that their parents might have actually taken someone's life.
Seonghwa remained unyielding, maintaining his cold gaze, "Not to worry, I have it all right here." He gestured to the documents Wooyoung held, revealing a series of letters exchanged between the couple all those years ago detailing the best way to end someone's life and make it look like a natural death, as though they had succumbed to an ordinary illness.
"Isn't it an uncanny coincidence that the physician confessed to the first Lady Jang dying from mandrake poisoning, and simultaneously, there is an abundance of mandrake planted in your garden? Alongside these incriminating letters, everything aligns seamlessly. There's nothing you can say to undermine this evidence, minister. Would you care to explain your actions now?"
Minister Jang's face contorted with defiance and anger. He took a deep breath before finally admitting, "Fine, it's true. I did it; I killed that woman. But you have to understand; the first Lady Jang ruined my life. I never wanted to marry her in the first place. It was a political arrangement forced upon me to please her influential family. They held more power than I did at the time."
His eyes darted around, gauging the reactions of those present, especially his daughters, "I clawed my way up, working tirelessly to reach my position as Minister of Military Affairs. I didn't need her family anymore. So, I did her a favour – I ended her unhappy marriage and made room for the person I truly loved."
He looked at his current wife with a twisted sense of affection, completely ignoring the horrified expressions around him, "I had to make a choice for my own happiness. No one understands the sacrifices I've made for this family and for the sake of my love. It was the only way."
"If you hated my mother so much, why did you bother having me then?" You finally croaked, voice breaking as you choked back tears. Seonghwa pulled you close to him, never wanting you to go through any more pain alone.
Your father let out a scoff of displeasure, "I never wanted you. You were just another duty to please your mother's family. When she died, I refused to let any of them near you out of spite. You were a constant reminder of her, a spitting image that angered me every time I looked at you. That's why I hated you so much."
His admission hung heavily in the air, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. Your eyes, filled with sorrow, met his cold, callous gaze. Your husband tightened his hold on you, offering silent comfort as the painful truth unravelled.
"And there we have it, the confession His Majesty wanted. Royal Secretary Choi, did you manage to get all of that?" The general called out with a smirk.
To the minister's horror, the King's closest and most trusted aide emerged from the entrance, flanked by a team of royal guards, "I sure did, General Park. You've done well; we'll take it from here. His Majesty shall decide the Jang family's final sentencing."
« Preview of Part 10 »
As Eunsook followed her master's orders to assist you out of the hall and to the waiting carriage at once, your husband stayed behind to express gratitude to the dedicated private investigator.
"You've worked hard, Wooyoung. I assure you we will compensate you for your excellent performance. You didn't have to help us this far, but you did, and I appreciate it."
The younger man enthusiastically bowed, "It's my pleasure, sir! I'm a huge fan of yours; I think people don't appreciate you enough for defending our country! Those who think you are heartless are clearly mistaken. If only they'd seen you today. You are a wonderful husband, my lord. It's reassuring to know Lady Park has you."
Clearing his throat, the general looked away and fought the faint blush dusting his cheeks, "I'm glad you think so. I can only hope she thinks the same."
Wooyoung grinned, "I'm sure she does, my lord. I've seen how Lady Park looks at you; I can tell you mean a lot to her too," Seeing Jongho approaching to escort his master out, the informant bowed one final time, "It was an honour working for you, sir. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need my services again!"
Seonghwa nodded appreciatively, "I'll keep that in mind."
Just as he turned to leave, the royal secretary came up to him, "Before you go, General Park, His Majesty wishes to meet you and Lady Park soon to discuss your actual wedding arrangements."
Nodding lightly, the general replied, "Got it, I'll see you then."
"Oh, and one last thing; I know you've both been through a lot, but the worst is over. I wish you and your wife happiness."
"Thank you, San."
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Y'all I'm not even gonna lie, this part literally gave me a whole ass headache LMFAO I hope this felt satisfying enough! Of course, we still don't know what consequences the evil family are about to suffer muahaha😈
Also, the second mood board depicting the general's estate is out! Go take a look if you haven't already!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section
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lxkeee · 3 months
Text
END GAME
PART TWO
pairing: lucifer x fallen angel! fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fluff
warnings: no warnings yet.
notes: very feral for this man and this is multishot fic and would be writing a smut for this. Reader is close to his age (probably a hundred years younger but meh)
additional notes: just because there are moments where Lucifer seems to be flustered or like mesmerized by the reader, it doesn't mean he already has a crush. It just means that he's been alone for so long that anyone who's gorgeous would make him get flustered cuz it's been awhile since he socialized with others lmfao. I am planning to make their relationship slowly bloom cuz why not?
PART ONE | PART THREE
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“The name's Lucifer Morningstar, welcome to hell.” the light blond haired man said with slight smile and [y/n] can feel her jaw dropped. This is the first fallen angel? The king of hell? Very pale skin, short stature, pink cheeks, attractive. [Y/n] believes that the stories from ancient heavenly scrolls didn't do him any justice.
Lucifer just gave her a small toothy grin as he watched the awe look on her face as he leans his body against the door frame, crossing his arms as he looked at her. “You're Lucifer...?” she asked softly, looking at him with slight doubt and he nodded, “Indeed I am darling.” he replied with a grin, almost a smirk.
“You're much shorter than I thought you would be.” [y/n] says looking at him and Lucifer felt like an arrow was shot into his heart, if she stood next to him it would be guaranteed that she'll be looking down on him literally, “Though, I do believe that the heavenly scrolls did not do you any justice. You are prettier than how the scrolls describe you to be.” she says with a grin, crossing her arms on her chest as Lucifer just looked at her, blinking slowly as the red of his cheeks darkened slightly.
I swear to me, why is she so bold? He asked himself mentally.
He cleared his throat before eventually looking back at her, “Are you normally this bold to strangers?” he asked with a deadpan and [y/n] snorted a little, “Usually, I'm more.” she replied and Lucifer had to take a deep breather as he mumbled “Jesus...” underneath his breath making the woman chuckle.
[y/n] haven't paid him any mind, chuckling slightly to see the ruler of hell to be easily flustered. “I assumed you healed me? How long was I out?” she asked him, deciding to stop teasing the poor man. Lucifer managed to calm himself down, adjusting the collar to his suit, “Yes, you have crashed into my front yard but don't mind about it. You've been in a coma for almost... Three weeks.” he replied before eventually walking towards her and sat on the bed. His expression softened as his hand grazed over her shoulder blades, “They really cut off your wings...” he muttered softly and she just sighed, “Indeed they did.”
Deciding not to make her uncomfortable, he removed his hand from her shoulders, “If you don't mind me asking, what happened?” he asked and she gently lied down on to the bed, avoiding his gaze.
“Heaven was suffocating. Too many rules and I began to question them.” she replied softly and Lucifer just nodded in understanding, “I would probably have been bearable if I was allowed to punch Adam occasionally but nope.” she jokes slightly, making the light blond haired fallen angel chuckle, “Indeed.” he says softly making the woman giggle. Lucifer then gave her a raised eyebrow, “I think now's the time I catch the name of the person I took care of for almost three weeks. Hmm?” he asked with a slight hum. [Y/n] smiled before returning back to her sitting position, extending her hand for a handshake, “My name is [Y/n] [l/n], it is a pleasure to meet you.” she says and Lucifer smiled and held her hand and gave her knuckle a chaste kiss, “The pleasure is all mine.”
[y/n] just chuckles as he lets go of her hand, “As expected, you really are charming.” she says making Lucifer laugh slightly, “Thank you, now.” he says before clapping his hands together, “Since you are new here, I assume that you don't have anywhere to stay. How about you work for me? You are a fallen angel so I know you are powerful. So what do you say?” he asked, extending his hand with a slight smirk. [Y/n] looked at his hand with a raised eyebrow and with a small teasing smile.
“A deal with the devil...? What's the catch?” she asked, crossing her arms making Lucifer chuckle, “This isn't the usual deal where you sell your soul to me, that kind of deal requires a contract with your signature of consent. This is just a normal deal for you to work and be my assistant while getting a place to stay in return.” he explained, despite the smirk on his face, [y/n] cannot sense deception from the man. She sighs before eventually shaking his hand.
“You got yourself a deal, Lucifer.” she says making the king of hell smirk, “You won't regret it.”
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end notes: and I worked like a doggg day and night 😭
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shanieveh · 8 months
Text
“ forget me not... ”
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synopsis: neuvillette, too late to confess his love to you, is drowning from the suffering and regret that came along with it, especially after knowing that you felt the same all along.
tags: gn!reader x neuvillette, depression and low self-esteem, bittersweet ending, mentions of freminet, lynette and melusines, heavily implied reader death and neuvillette also kinda wanting to die
a/n: people want this and i have came to deliver (hopefully) enjoy~ this is my first long fic that i published
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How can this be….?
Neuvillette sat in the corner of his office, all your letters in his right hand. How can you say you loved him… how dare you describe the love, the passion, everything you felt for him when he can't even say it back.
How can you love someone so unlovable?
His silent cries can't match up to the violent outbursts of the skies outside. Days went by when he first found out, the melusines were scared to death about who would report it to him. The way you dissolved into water, not even seeing you for the last time—not having the privilege to have a proper funeral.
He failed you… the monsieur wasn't too sure on many things but this one was certain.
Reading your diaries, knowing your thoughts and hopes for the future. It was an invasion of privacy but also in a way… the last remnants of your existence. One such entry was that of three years ago where you first met.
Encountering this, a profuse blush colored his face. The adjectives being used "handsome", "tall" and "kind" for your first meetingwith the chief justice. Far from the truth really, although Neuvillette knew you meant every word.
You always did.
You always were an honest person.
The very first day his lavender eyes met yours, to the very last. There was never a trace of impurity or a hint of a liar. Of course, the verdict went in your favor, because to him a precious rose like you can never steal and the plaintiffs were wrong.
Reading it now, not even a slightly negative comment was made to those who wrongly accused you.
"Maybe they had their reasons, after all, I was also in need of money at that time." you wrote. Adding on that you defended the "Monsieur Neuvillette" when people called "such a man of honor and kindness" a "merciless and arrogant man".
A man of honor and kindness? Your words became running thoughts in the hydro dragon's head. That day was one of the only days he didn't cry after a trial. Neuvillette was just happy that such a person of integrity was cleared of their name.
He turned through the pages of the diary, how you taught him to socialize and even mend his relationship with the hydro archon.
"Monsieur Neuvillette was too adorable! Being with a person of lowly status and treating me with such respect and humility, he truly is the epitome of mercy and loveliness."
How can you be so blind? Anyone with eyes will know that it's a privilege to be with someone so beautiful, especially to be with someone like Neuvillette. A cold and repulsive soul. You make him sound like a good person, when in fact he isn't both good and human.
He was a monster… these words of humanity you always used to describe a monster. Why do they sound so genuine? Why do they look so real? Maybe only you can make him like that, you and only you.
A few pages later he finally saw the words…
Words that should've made him scream in euphoria… tore him to a million pieces. Because even before this he already loved you… because you had so much time to confess but never did… and never will.
"I think I'm in love with the chief Justice."
And after that, he couldn't even get himself to read, he couldn't. His eyes got so blurry to see, his heart became too heavy to feel. Why were you… why you? In a world filled with monsters, they chose an angel. They chose a soul that still wanted to live, love and give. Those demons… despicable.
Remembering his shortcomings, maybe in some way he could've avoided all of this. Neuvillette shouldn't have given you his blessing to investigate the serial disappearance case.
But that glint of adventure in your eyes… he was too soft to reject you.
It was all his fault.
Wiping his tears he looked at the last entry of the diary… Oh.
Oh.
"After this investigation, I'll finally confess to him… I surely hope Neuvillette feels the same way, I even planted some forget-me-nots to give him in the backyard so that he'll know when it rains and he weeps. I will always be here."
The chief justice didn't know what was coming to him but he started running… and only then can he see the state of Fontaine. Many flowers have wilted and only a few people were outside. What had he become..?
"What's up with this weather? It isn't even the rainy season yet?!" A shop owner complained.
"I know! My crops have been drowning these days, at this rate if it doesn't stop we'll have a famine!"
It was all his fault, his running turned to a slow walk taking in all that he had done. This was all because of him. The lonely streets, the lowered morale. This was all because—
"Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, please don't cry!"
He turned to the voice and saw a young boy in the distance. Neuvillette remembered now, his name was Freminet. That child on which you doted extremely, giving him sweets and hushing his tears. The chief justice quickly let go of his gaze and continued to walk.
"You see Freminet, it didn't work... let's go inside."
The response was that of a stoic young woman, but he just continued his legs even if they wanted to rest all to see the last thing you cared for… those flowers. And when he finally was at the destination he saw it immediately outside.
It was in the bushes, he couldn't miss it. Every corner of your house was haunted, every tiny thing was a memory. The chairs you painted, the drawings pinned in the cabinet of you and him with the melusines. It was precious. All of it. Just as you are.
He finally saw them, most were almost to bloom and some were wilted. Picking one he unconsciously kissed it, perhaps mistaking it for you. These flowers were made to remind him he was never alone, but now he is.
More alone than he can ever be in one lifetime. Your scent still filled every corner, a remembrance of the biggest "what if" in his life. Your will stated that every single thing of yours is his just as you were always his. Bittersweet was he when reading it.
Neuvillete forgot that too included your house, maybe he was too consumed with your thoughts to visit this place. He was twisting the poor flower that looked so tiny compared to his hand. Perhaps that's what it's like to be with him. It's a curse…
He continues to caress the flowers, to treat them as if they were you. You were wrong on one thing about this, even if there were no flowers he will never forget you. Never, no way! The love he has for you can destroy nations and can cause millions of sacrifices. Just to keep you, to see your smile again.
But he can't even do that, you didn't give him the privilege to do something for you. If only he knew, he would've… done everything for you. The love that can create the strongest of floods failed to protect the one person he was supposed to protect.
At that moment, he felt the waters, the ocean, his home… you. It made his crying bearable, somewhat. Grief that could surpass a lifetime, wasn't enough. Nothing he can do will ever be enough to have you again. Perhaps he should also leave this world to stop being a burden to the people… and maybe to see you again.
"Neuvillette…"
Now he was even imagining your voice, or was he? Maybe he was delusional but he still followed your voice even if it took him to an unknown path. But the end was in a small pond, where you used to keep the fish, all of which were alive and well.
"Neuvillette…?"
At this he didn't even care if was going insane, your voice sounded like a melody even if it uttered his name. It sounded like a rare jewel, a myth, a prophecy too good to be true.
"Darling?" He replied in a hopeful tone. He looked through his surroundings, no longer was he in a pond but a terrain of boundless water. In the middle was a flying Oceanid, a spirit. Was it—could it be?
"Even I could feel the heavy pouring of rain, monsieur… don't be sad."
It was indeed your spirit, a part of you that remained before that bastard—he'll make whoever did this pay. It wasn't for justice anymore, this one is for revenge.
"How can I not? When I have failed you over and over again, I couldn't even get to say…"
"That you love me?"
His eyes widened, looking at you. Even if it didn't look like you, he knew… he always did. A nod soon followed after that, it was barely noticeable even at this rate the chief justice was a bit shy saying it.
"I just don't know why you could ever say you love me, how you could even think of me so kindly. Why? How? How can you love me back?" He was clueless to what you mean.
"How can I not?"
The reply you uttered was one of a teary-eyed person. Even to this moment you still haven't accepted you had died, not when he was still alone needing you.
"Just as you said… how can I not? You out of all people my dear… know of the sacrifices we make for the person we love."
It was that moment where you took your normal form, you looked beautiful as the day he lost you. As beautiful as the day you met. And as you walked towards him, the clock ticking until your final goodbye, it was time.
"I love you Neuvillette, i always had and continue to do so." For the last time, you cupped his cheek and kissed him.
"I love you, darling from the very beginning and every single lifetime to come." He let go of the kiss and hugged you tight, closing his eyes, until you disappeared not knowing he was hugging his own.
Opening his eyes, the rain was long gone, and what remained were the flowers in the bushes, the ponds, the fish, and him. Maybe… just maybe he will bring you and the other victims to light.
Until then, this one last encounter and goodbye will make him content. He was sure… that finally his love will be at rest.
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dreamofjoys · 9 months
Text
— CHARGES
Synopsis: The Chief Justice of Fontaine would like to press charges against you for making him break his own principles
C/W: afab, smut, 4.0 archon quest spoilers, public sex, unprotected sex, spanking, you call him your honour, begging, he calls you doll, fingering
A/N: I told myself not to write genshin fics but this man just took my whole breath away
"Do you know why you are here?" Neuvillette's mint breath fan over your ear, hips bucking up to push his lengthy girth back into your hole. "N-no, your honour." You couldn't stop the string of wanton moans that fell out of your lips as Neuvillette fucks you roughly, folding you into half just to get better access to your pussy. You nearly screamed when his dick hits on a spongy soft spot in your pussy that has you seeing stars.
Sensing that it was your weak spot, the chief judge continues to abuse that spot, punctuating each thrust in a slow yet hard manner. "I am pressing charges against you," the judge finally speaks, flipping you onto your back with his dick still rock hard inside you. "for making me break my own principles." You yelped when you felt a sharp vertical pain on your butt. Looking back at Neuvillette with teary eyes, you realised that he was spanking you with the cane that he carries around whenever he holds trials to establish order.
"Neuvi, it hurts." A tear fell from your eye as your butt burns in pain. Neuvillette's heart swooned when he hears the nickname. "Oh, but does this hurt?" you moaned when his dick moves again to kiss your cervix. "I-I like this one more, Neuvi. Pl-please don't hit me with that." You tried your very best to give a pitiful puppy dog eye, even pushing your lower lips out to look more pitiful. However, such mere tricks does not work on the judge who has been delivering sentence on a daily basis, especially if it's one that is of high status.
"Doll, didn't you hear what I say just now?" One of his hand reaches down to rub circles on your clit, playing with the bundles of nerves like a fidget toy. "I am going to press charge against you. Reason being? You made me break my own principles." His slim yet long fingers join his member in to stretch your pussy hole, making you moan in delight at the feeling of being stuffed full. You move your hips up and down, bouncing on his cock and fingers to chase your high.
Neuvillette could feel his usually composed aura falling down. He grabs you by your breast, lifting you up so that your back is finally pressed against his front.
"I am not like this," His dick now drills into your hole at an immensed speed while both of his hands has switched to fondle your breast. "We are in the High Court of Fontaine, where trials are held everyday. And yet here I am, ruining you on the very own chair that I sit to deliver those trials." You didn't care what he was saying, choosing to bounce on his dick like a slut, chasing after the high.
"Look at the scale, it's tipping towards my favour." Neuvillette grabs you by the chin to look at the large scale, the main source of power for delivering the final verdicts in all trials at Fontaine. "It's all because of you, that I have desires to take you on my seat, " you suck onto the fingers that Neuvillette had inserted into your mouth. " It's all because of you, that I am fucking you in this empty court," You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, your gonna-
"It's all because I like you, that's why Im losing my composure everyday. The desire to claim you is greater than the desire to act like the proper Chief Judge."
You let out the sinnest mewl when the knot releases, milking the judge's coat like a waterfall. It wasn't long before you feel warm ropes of cum painting your walls, filling your womb with his seeds.
"You are definitely guilty, Y/N."
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Note
Would you mind writing a Fic about daughter of Selene and son of Poseidon, Percy? And their Relationship is sort off based off how the moon affects the ocean tides?
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x daughter of selene! reader hcs warning: language as per usual author's note: i made it hcs bc i didn't feel like i had enough plot to make a fic and a blurb wouldn't do this fun prompt justice so this is what we get folks!!!
bro is quite literally drawn to you
can't stay away
you just keep pulling him in
if you have a good day, he has a good day
if you have a bad day, he has a bad day
you affect this dude in ways you don’t even know
what can he say, he's an empath
just for you tho
listens to 'moon song' by phoebe bridgers and crys bc he thinks of you
oh, and 'moon river' by frank ocean
oh and basically any other song that mentions the moon
will def send you constants texts like,
'you look just like your momma. beautiful.'
this is followed by the most beautiful picture of the moon you've ever seen
this bitch got you in yo feels
also sally is adopting you without a doubt
you are now her precious moon child, no arguing or stopping it now
you both get into some crazy shit at night
like, no, officer, we did not break into sea world and free the sharks, sir, why would we do that???
actively wearing sea world shirts that still have the tags on
sally and paul laughed the whole time bailing you guys out of jail
also, i like to imagine you're more active at night, so that makes you a sleepy girl during the day and percy is just your walking pillow
you can take a nap nearly anywhere and that includes percy's shoulder as he's trying to pay attention to whatever will is trying to teach them about healing but he can't focus with your breath puffing out against his neck
and then even when the class is over, he refuses to move and wake you up
would actually rather die than wake you up
also i like to image that you glow at night similarly to apollo kids but in silver tones
which is why your name in percy's phone is glowstick
he finds it amusing
you, not so much
also percy has grown very fond of night swims since getting with you
just you and him, floating somewhere in the lake and letting the only light being from the moon
he finds it calming and so do you
this, upon a joking dare, would turn into skinny dipping one night but thats a story for another day fr
let's just say you two also accidently became streakers that night too
chiron was not happy
the hermes cabin thought it was very amusing, seeing as they were the ones who stole your clothes in the first place.
the night swims ended after that, in fear of another streaking incident
everytime percy's back home for school, he fr goes out on the balcony and plays 'talking to the moon' by bruno mars (cheesy mfer)
and cries bc he misses you
and i just know your mommas laughing at him from her spot at the moon
the boy who's lovesick for her baby girl
the boy who reminds her of his father's waves
drawn in and away but always back in again
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solar-wing · 1 month
Text
⚣ Jealousy Is A Disease 🟢
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⚣🟢 A/N → DON'T ASK ME WHY, I DON'T KNOW OKAY! I just can't write a Hal Jordan fic without making it about his incessant need to be better than Superman. I'M TRYING OKAY! anyway, hope you like it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Major Dub-Con Themes | M-Preg Themes | Penetrative Sex | Fingering | Overstimulation | Alpha Hal Jordan | JL Omega Male Reader |
⚣🟢 Summary → Y/N's knows he's got a little heat brewing between him and Superman, but something is going to get in the way of that. He should've known better than to have entered into any sort of arrangement with Hal Jordan. Not only was the man super cocky and sarcastic, but he was literally green with envy.
⚣🟢 Words → 3.7K
REBLOGS & replies are appreciated, please! 💛
⚣ ENJOY 🟢
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The Watchtower had been relatively quiet.
Y/N had been talking with Clark about some matters related to supervillains' plots, potential recruits, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that he wasn't really paying attention to because he was too busy eyeing the Kryptonian's body. The Omega knew his heat was getting close and that he would probably have to take some time off soon to deal with it.
But, it didn't stop him from imagining Clark's large and muscled body over his while they rutted against each other all sweaty and hot and-
"Y/N? You ok there?" Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, the Omega blushing when he saw the look on the man's face. He had noticed his staring and it had probably led him to realize the nature of his thoughts.
The Kryptonian had a knowing smirk on his face, though. He'd been more or less aware of the Omega's attraction towards him, and it definitely wasn't one-sided. Clark may not have been an Alpha by nature of his Kryptonian biology, but it didn't mean he didn't consider himself to be one in many aspects. He certainly had the physique of one, and he did have a few...kinks that came with the territory.
"I-I'm sorry, I got a little distracted." Y/N chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't know how the Kryptonian would react to his blatant display of lust, but he didn't think it would be bad. Clark was always so nice to him and he had a good sense of humor. Plus, the Omega really wanted to know what was under those suits.
"Don't worry about it. You know I get distracted too sometimes." The Kryptonian smiled, his eyes lingering on Y/N's flushed face before traveling down the length of his body. The Omega suit was one for the books, the tight-fitting material leaving nothing to the imagination. Y/N looked damn good, and he knew it.
"So, uh, what were we talking about again?" Y/N asked, clearing his throat.
While the two continued their little flirtatious and flustered dialogue, neither of them was aware of the presence watching them through the door, his eyes under his green mask narrowing in anger and jealousy.
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Later that night, Y/N was getting ready to head home. His heat was coming closer and closer, and he knew he had to spend his next few days in his apartment and away from everyone.
As the Omega neared the Zeta Gateway that would take him back to the Hall of Justice, his arm was suddenly snatched and he was pulled into an empty room. Y/N was ready to fight whoever it was, but a familiar scent invaded his senses.
"Hey there, sexy. Missed me?" Green Lantern smirked as he looked down at the Omega's shocked face.
"Hal! What the hell are you doing?" Y/N whispered. "Someone might see us!"
"I was just thinking that maybe we could have a little fun before you go home. It's not like anyone's gonna come here at this hour." Hal said as he moved closer to Y/N, backing him toward the wall.
"I have to go. My heat's coming up." The Omega said, stopping him before he could make any more moves.
"You always say that. And then we end up fucking anyway."
"Not this time. I need to rest. It's going to be a very intense one." Y/N tried to reason, but the Alpha wasn't having it.
"C'mon, baby. Just one more time." Hal whispered in his ear, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Let me have a taste."
The Alpha leaned forward and began kissing and biting Y/N's neck, his hands moving to grip his waist. The Omega could feel his arousal getting excited at the stimulation, but he had to stay strong. He knew his body would crave an Alpha's touch during his heat, and there was a certain blue and red-wearing superhero that he was more interested in.
"H-Hal, no! Stop!" Y/N said, pushing him away. "No more of this. I'm not gonna let you fuck me anymore, understand?"
"What the hell's gotten into you?" The Alpha growled. "You're always begging for it, and now you're pushing me away?"
"Yeah, well, things change." Y/N sighed, moving to leave the room. "Just stay away from me."
"Who is it, huh?" Hal asked, blocking his way.
"It's not like that," Y/N said, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth, "It's just that I think we should keep things strictly professional from now on."
"Bullshit. You weren't concerned about keeping things professional all the times I fingered you during meetings. Or all the times you sucked me off in the training room."
"Hal, I–"
"Did you care about professionalism when I fucked your tight little cunt while Batman was right outside that door? Or when you rode my dick in the showers? Huh?" Hal said, his voice raising a bit.
"Quit it, Hal. You're being rid–"
"Or all the close calls we had when I knotted you without a condom, and you thought you were gonna get pregnant? I bet you were hoping for it, weren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Y/N shouted, his patience running thin. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Jordan. Now, move."
"Oh, now you're giving me orders? Is that how it is?" Hal growled, his own Alpha pheromones responding.
"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Y/N growled, his scent turning sour. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man!
"No, you shut the fuck up! You're acting like a whore who's too good for me." Hal growled, his scent becoming heavier with the stench of anger.
"A whore, huh? I'm a whore for letting you fuck me whenever you wanted, and now I'm a whore for wanting to stop the fuck-fest, is that it? You're the one who wanted this, remember? You're the one who was all up on me in the first place, so don't play the victim."
"You're such a fucking tease. You act like a slut and then you expect me to leave you alone?"
"Yeah, and I'm also an Omega who could easily have an Alpha whenever I want. Don't forget that."
Hal clearly didn't like the mention of that. He was an Alpha, Air Force pilot and a Green Lantern. He wasn't supposed to be a side dish.
"I'm not someone you can fuck whenever you're bored, Y/N." The Alpha growled, his scent spiking.
"Well, guess what, Jordan, I'm not your toy either. We both had our fun, but I'm done with this. I don't want you anymore, and I certainly don't need you. So, move."
Before Y/N could move an inch, Hal lunged at him, tackling him to the conference table in the middle of the room. The two of them started wrestling and fighting, the Omega's pheromones spiking as he did his best to keep his body in check while trying to get the upper hand.
The fight didn't last long, though.
Y/N was soon pinned underneath the Alpha, his wrists in a tight grip above his head. Hal's free hand was holding his chin, forcing him to look at him.
"I can't believe you'd say something like that to me. After everything we've been through." The Alpha said, his voice low.
"Let go of me." Y/N struggled, trying to get out of the Alpha's hold.
"Not until you admit that you want me. That you're mine."
"In your dreams, Jordan. I don't belong to you. I'm not some prize that you can claim."
"I can do whatever I want. I'm an Alpha and I'm Green Lantern," Hal smirked, his grip on Y/N's wrists tightening as he rubbed the hard-on throbbing under his suit against the weaker male, "And you're an Omega. My Omega. You're gonna submit."
"You're not my Alpha, and you may be Green Lantern, but you'll never be Superman," Y/N said, ignoring the pleasurable tingles running through his body from the Alpha grinding against him while sporting his spiteful little smirk at the Alpha, "You'll never be him."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hal questioned with a growl.
"I know you're jealous of him, Hal. You put on this cocky, self-assured facade, but deep down, you hate that Superman is everything you wish you could be. He's not even technically an Alpha and yet, everyone respects him. Everyone trusts him. He's the perfect hero, and you're not."
"You're wrong."
Y/N could see he was hitting some nerves, and despite the warnings in his head telling him to stop, he couldn't, "Am I? So why is it that every time he's near me, you're always watching me? Always trying to get my attention. You're always trying to assert your dominance as if that's going to make me want you more."
"Stop talking," Hal ordered, not even realizing how he was slowly grinding his hard erection against the Omega's slick dripping heat, the friction from their uniforms making it all the more pleasurable.
"You're always going on and on about how you're an Alpha and Superman's not, and yet, he's the first person who comes to mind when anyone thinks of a traditional or a perfect Alpha."
"That's enough."
"And what does that say about you, Hal?"
"Shut the fuck up!" The Alpha roared, his scent becoming suffocating as he tightened his hold on Y/N's wrists, his hips rutting faster and harder against the Omega's crotch.
"You're a disgrace to the Green Lantern Corps, Hal. And you're a disgrace to the Air Force." Y/N continued, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and lust as he stared at the Alpha above him.
"That's not true," Hal said, his voice faltering slightly.
"Is it? Because the way I see it, you're nothing more than a second-rate Green Lantern, a third-rate Alpha, and a fifth-rate superhero," The Omega ended, a venom to his words as he tauntingly smiled at the Alpha rutting against his body, his scent sweetening as his orgasm arrived already due to the increasingly sensitive state of his body from his heat approaching.
"SHUT UP!"
Hal lost control, his instincts taking over as he ripped the fabric of Y/N's suit. He couldn't stand the disrespect and the insults, and he needed to make the Omega eat his words. He needed to show he was better than the Kryptonian. He had to himself as the stronger Alpha, as the only Alpha.
He needed to prove that he was the best.
Y/N's moans were music to his ears, his slick coating his fingers as he pushed two digits inside the smaller male's tight cunt, the Alpha growling in arousal as the warmth wrapped around him. The Omega had to grip the edges of the table that he could reach to keep himself steady as his body rocked with overwhelming stimulation from Hal's fingers entering him so roughly while he was still in the middle of his first orgasm.
"A-ah, fuck ... ! H-Hal, stop.." Y/N moaned, his legs shaking as his walls fluttered around the Alpha's fingers.
His hand was around the Omega's throat, squeezing tightly as he forced him to look at him, "Don't you ever say those things to me again. Do you hear me? I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure."
"You are...a failure." Y/N choked out, his eyes watering.
At this point, the Omega had slowly given into his body's most primal desires, his mindset slowly slipping into that of a sex-crazed, needy little shit who just wanted to get fucked and knotted, thanks to his heat.
The Alpha snarled at the insult, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder. His thumb rubbed circles around the Omega's nub, the bundle of nerves sending jolts of pleasure up the smaller male's body. His focus had become solely on proving himself. He needed to show the Omega who was in charge.
"Stop saying that! Stop it! You're lying!" Hal growled, his pace quickening.
"Y-you're a f-failure. You'll...never be Superman," Y/N panted, his mind growing clouded. "You'll never b-be my A-Alpha."
"I'll be your Alpha. I'll be better than him. Better than any of them."
Within just another few minutes, The Alpha pulled another mind-shattering orgasm from the Omega, his scent heavy and intoxicating. He pulled out his fingers, licking his lips as he watched the mixed slick and cum dripping from them. He moved his hand up to the Omega's mouth, smearing the wetness across his lips.
"Suck them."
"No..." Y/N whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed.
"Do it. Now." Hal demanded, his grip on the Omega's neck tightening.
The squeeze against the smaller male's neck had his mouth opening with a quiet yelp in reflex, allowing the Alpha's fingers to enter. The taste was sweet and salty, and the Alpha couldn't help but growl in arousal as he watched the Omega suck his digits clean.
"That's it, baby. Get them nice and clean. You like the taste of your body, don't you?"
Once the Alpha had pulled his fingers out, the Omega's eyes were glazed over. His scent was so strong and thick, and it was almost enough to make the Alpha's knees weak. He wasn't done yet, though. He still needed to show no one was better than him.
Especially not Superman.
Hal ripped the front of his Green Lantern uniform open (it was okay, it magically came on and off anyway), exposing his toned chest and abs. His cock sprung free, already leaking precum. He positioned himself at the Omega's entrance, his tip rubbing against the wet entrance.
"Look at me." The Alpha growled, grabbing the Omega's chin.
Y/N's gaze was half-lidded, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his breathing was heavy. He could feel the Alpha's cock throbbing against him, the tip catching on his rim every so often.
"Still think I'm a failure? Still think I'm not good enough?" Hal growled.
"You're not..."
Y/N cried out as the Alpha entered him roughly, the sudden intrusion making him clench around the thick shaft. His body was overly sensitive, and the feeling of being filled was almost too much. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, his thighs shaking.
"Oh, God...!"
"Doesn't seem like I'm a failure, does it?"
"Fuck...Hal, please, I can't take it.." Y/N begged, his body trembling.
"No, you'll take it. You'll take every inch of me." The Alpha growled, his hands gripping the Omega's waist as he began thrusting in and out, his pace fast and rough.
"No, please, Hal...stop, I can't...!"
"You can, and you will."
Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's sides, his thrusts growing faster and harder. His eyes were trained on the Omega's face, taking in the sight of his tear-stained cheeks and the drool dripping from his lips. The scent coming from the smaller male was so sweet and tempting, the Alpha's nostrils flaring as he breathed it in.
"Fuck, you're always so tight. Such a good little Omega for me."
"N-no, I'm not...I'm not..."
"Yes, you are. You're mine. My Omega."
The Alpha leaned forward, his teeth grazing the Omega's neck. He could feel the smaller male's pulse-quickening, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath ghosted across his skin.
"You're mine, Y/N. No one else's."
"H-Hal..."
"You're gonna be my mate, and you're gonna carry my seed and give me my first kid. I deserve it. I'm a better Alpha than any of them."
"N-nh ... ah ... n-no."
"Yes, you will. I'll fill you up with my cum, and I'll make sure it takes."
Hal leaned down over the Omega's body, his front pressing against the smaller male's chest as he continued his relentless assault on his cunt. His thrusts were deep and hard, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air.
"Mine...mine...mine." The Alpha growled, his lips ghosting over the Omega's jaw and neck.
"H-Hal, please...it h-hurts." Y/N choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as his hands clawed at the Alpha's wrist.
"Yeah, that's right. Beg. Who's a third-rate Alpha now, huh? Who's a failure now, Y/N?" Hal snarled while nipping the Omega's jaw and neck, the sound of the conference table creaking and groaning under their weight.
Y/N had already been through his third climax at this point, his body overstimulated and sore all over from the Alpha's rough treatment. He couldn't think straight, his mind overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain coursing through him.
"H-Hal, no, s-stop, p-plea–"
The Omega's cries were cut off by the Alpha's hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly.
"Shut the fuck up. I'll let you breathe and talk when you're ready to admit who you belong to. Not before."
"H-Hal..."
The Alpha's hips were slamming into the Omega's, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing throughout the room. His knot was swelling, his thrusts growing more and more erratic.
Hal had never fucked him so brutally before, landing a harsh slap on the side of his bottom every so often while squeezing his neck even tighter. His insides felt like they were on fire, his walls clenching and throbbing around the Alpha's length.
"All that talk earlier and now look at you, crying and begging for me to stop. What happened to you thinking I'm a failure, huh? Did you change your mind?"
"I-I d-didn't. Y-you're a f-failure." Y/N managed to choke out despite his oxygen-deprived brain.
The Alpha's thrusts grew even harder, his knot catching on the Omega's rim every so often. He was close, his cock pulsating and throbbing inside the smaller male. He leaned up to stare the smaller male in the face, preparing to breed the smart-mouth brat while glaring at him through his mask.
"I can't wait to see Superman's face when you're round with my kid, knowing that you'll be mine and no one else's. And it'd better be a boy and an Alpha, or we'll be right back where we started," Hal growled, his grip on the Omega's throat tightening once more.
He continued hammering away at the Omega's heat, getting closer and closer to his end while Y/N approached his fourth, "Hope you weren't planning on having that weak Kryptonian with you during your heat. Because I'm gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, and then you're not gonna leave my side until I know you're carrying my child."
"P-perv..." Y/N weakly muttered, the Alpha's thrusts hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he was forced to look into the Alpha's mask.
"Say what you want, but you know you're mine. And don't think I'm not going to punish you for those words earlier. I'll have you gagged and tied to the bed until you're carrying my kid. No protection this time."
Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Y/N, through the cloggy fog of his sex-muddled brain managed to mutter out one more thing before meeting his fate on the Green Lantern's knot, "I'd rather have Superman's kid than your failure spawn."
And just like that, Hal's grip on his throat tightened and his knot swelled and caught inside the Omega's hot cavern, his cock releasing his hot load while he growled, "That's it. You're gonna get it now."
Hal's knot kept his cum from spilling out of the Omega's throbbing walls, his grip tightening even more around the Omega's neck as he choked the life out of the smaller male.
The seething anger across Hal's face as he bred the Omega with his cum while he struggled to breathe was the last thing Y/N saw before blacking out.
While Y/N slipped into unconsciousness, Hal got the eerie feeling he was being watched, turning to see a trail of a familiar red cape through the small window in the door.
Superman.
The Alpha felt a sense of accomplishment and superiority, smirking as his hand squeezed the Omega's neck and the other ran down his body, settling at the base of his stomach, "Don't worry, Y/N, I'll take care of you. I'll prove to you who's the best Alpha. Just you wait."
When his knot finally deflated, Hal pulled out his limp cock from the Omega's sloppy hole. He watched as his cum spilled out of the smaller male's pink and puffy cunt, his fingers scooping some up. He pushed it back inside, his smirk growing wider.
He re-formed his entire suit while doing his best to cover him before slinging his unconscious form over his shoulder, making his way out of the room and the Hall. He was going to have his Omega, whether he liked it or not.
He was going to breed him and make him bear his child, and no one was going to stop him.
Hal had been walking for a few minutes when a large gust of wind nearly knocked him over, Superman standing before him, his expression unreadable, "What the hell do you want, Kryptonian?"
"Give him to me."
"No."
"That wasn't a request, Jordan," Clark growled, his eyes narrowing, "Give him to me."
"I don't think so. I'm the only Alpha here, and I'm going to take him back home. I'll show him that I'm the better man. And there's nothing you can do but accept it," Hal said, a hint of smugness in his voice.
"Like hell, I am," Clark said, his eyes glowing red.
Hal barely had time to react before the Omega was ripped from his shoulder and cradled in Superman's arms, "What the hell?! Get your hands off him, you bastard!"
"I'm not the bastard, Hal. That title goes to you," Clark growled, his tone cold, "Now, stay away from Y/N. If I find out you've touched him again, I'll personally deliver your ring back to Oa myself. Got it?"
The Green Lantern was left speechless, watching as the Kryptonian flew off with the Omega. He was pissed, and he knew he had to get him back. He wouldn't let Superman steal what was rightfully his.
"Alright, then. Round three it is, fly-boy."
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☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months
Text
Rigor Mortis (part 1)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
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(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Prologue, Part 2
summary: After the breakup, you move into a new place.
warnings: no warnings! cheeky bit of angst at the end
a/n: this is me admitting that realistically, miguel would be sick of our shit.
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here <3
wc: 4.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
or in the cold, crisp morn:
"These are the keys," Your new landlord hands you the copies, clinking against each other as you transfer them to a dish by the door. Your first thought is that there seem to be too many for this modest apartment: of varying shapes and sizes, and at least half a dozen. He steps through a wide archway to the kitchen, eerily clean. It's not modern by any means,  the top half of a hulking brownstone some time away from college.
It’s been… a trying summer. Moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend had seemed like a great idea at the time. Younger you (barely 2 years ago) had been enamoured with the promises of city life: fast-paced, bustling, and never a dull day. Naivete and big ideas that you'd been too stupid, or maybe too desperate, to let go of. After being locked in a loop of the same 3 or 4 places, the same dozen faces - in a place as big as this, mind you - maybe your ex-boyfriend had freed you. Forced you from that halfway-home; as cold and empty as it had become; and back out into the world. 
The reality was less than ideal - apartment hopping across the city for the past 4 months or so. You’d seen it all: glorified shoeboxes, fancy duplexes, viewing sublet rooms that were at least a little illegal. A box within a box within a box; coat closets rented out for double your monthly take home; and you had just about given up.
So this place seemed like a godsend: a brownstone, tucked away. Its interior is dated, but gorgeous. It had character: quirks and rich history in the brick and mortar. A fireplace tucked into the corner, window alcoves, wood panelling. Yes, the wallpaper was slightly warped with damp  but it’s affordable - a reasonably priced gem that had made you jump when you saw the ad. With the overexposed and pixelated images, they didn’t do it justice.
You pad into the kitchen, running your hands on the smooth countertops. They’re bare and spotless - suspiciously so. Not many personal items, no fridge magnets, photos; nary a blanket on the sofa or half eaten plate of toast on the worktop. It’s so clean it feels staged, and it makes you squint. Isn’t there meant to be…
“I let Miguel know… he must’ve cleaned up the place-”
“Miguel?”
“The other tenant.” He pauses, boots clicking on the grain of the floorboard. “I don’t think he’ll be back until later tonight. Should give you some time to settle in.” 
Nodding, you give him a small smile, and he steps out of the apartment. Your apartment.
~~~
You fill the rest of day with unpacking, putting some life into the place. You’d visited not long ago, fantasising about how you’d decorate. Something about sharing an apartment with your boyfriend for the past 2 years had done something to you: flattening and squeezing into a space not built with you in mind. How Jamie didn't like things on the walls, or how he needed the space for his textbooks, so why don't you find somewhere else to put your little stories? If his desk took up half the front room, then that makes sense, he needs it for work. But God forbid you needed a quiet space to study; what if the guest bedroom has your shit everywhere when his friends come over? A million compromises that didn't seem much like compromises: you'd give an inch and he'd take a mile. And so, the space to spread your wings without knocking over a gaudy plaque or two was very much appreciated. 
You want to walk around the neighbourhood, map out the convenience stores, bodegas, community hotspots and hubs. Where's the best place to get a drink? The cheapest meal? Your usual haunts were a fair distance away, so maybe you'll make the trek and pick up waffles from Pam's, as a treat. Tired already, you slump on the sofa - a tattered old thing that can clearly take a beating. Looking around the place, something settles solidly at your chest. Contentment, maybe, a strange feeling considering the past few months. This will do, you think. This will do. 
Perhaps it's not a very feminist thought, but you're not thriving . Thriving felt presumptuous, and yet coping seemed too complete a word - its implication too tidy, too neat. A mess, before; better, now…? And it didn't quite span the width and depth of the past few months; how long it had taken for the numbness to make way to anger, hot and intense - its flame fueling many a long night. And yet, maybe coping was just the way to describe your foray into this new chapter: a new year, new apartment, and whatever that brings. You had forgotten what it felt like to be alone; not lonely, but with only your own self for company. Without the ache of another person, for the first time in a while. 
…except, you had a roommate. Which you had known when signing the lease, of course, but it's taken some time to sink in. What that means for you - a new person to tiptoe around and appease - you're not too sure yet. What is he like? He's out late, so maybe a chronic partygoer - sloppy drunk and vivacious, the life of the party. He might clatter into the apartment, chattering and bubbly. What do you know about him? From the apartment, as is, it doesn't tell you much. At first glance, it had looked too clean, but not unreasonably so if he had anticipated your arrival. No, it was the lack of personal effects that confused you. How long has he been living here and there aren't any pictures or knick knacks? To clutter is to be human, you think. And with the front room as blank as it is, you wonder just what kind of man he is. 
It's getting late. Naturally, you do some snooping, lazily padding around in search of life. Onwards and upwards, to new frontiers: the cupboards and drawers in your new apartment. 
He likes coffee, you learn. There's a fancy machine on the kitchen counter, glossy and shiny and clearly taken care of. Little packets of beans and filters line the cupboards, all with names you can't quite pronounce. The fridge is similarly well-stocked, with none of the junk food you've gotten accustomed to in the past few months. Its innards are leafy green and plush; labelled tupperware with leftovers notwithstanding. All the spices in a tray above the oven and fancy knives on the wall tell you he likes to cook, or rather, he likes to eat well. The lack of junk would take some getting used to - maybe he's a health nut? The type to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, to blend oddly coloured smoothies, and "reflect" after a long day of… dog walking or something. 
You move on to the living room, running a light hand over the deep walnut of a side table behind the sofa. Again, it's oddly bare. When you tug at the drawers, it's brassy handles are solid. Locked. Kneeling, you run a hand across the larger cupboard door at its base. You pull at it, and it pops open with a click. Inside, it seems empty, save for a dusty box nestled in the back corner. With your top half almost completely inside its depths, you move it into the light. 
It's old, a battered shoebox adorned with coloured sharpie - shaky drawings of flowers blossoming from its sides. The cardboard crackles when you open it. It's full of junk, mostly: half-dead pens, broken crayons, dried flowers, and little plastic toys - the kind you get from cereal boxes and happy meals. And, there's something peeking out. Confused, you dig a little deeper, to uncover a pair of… soccer cleats? They're tiny, clearly for a kid but seem barely worn, with minimal scuffing on the plastic blades. 
"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice from above rumbles, and your head snaps up like a rubber band. You hadn't noticed the door open, and you are met face to face with, who you assume to be, your roommate. 
He doesn't shout: tall, broad, and back straight by the door. He's got a backpack slung over his shoulder, dressed in a crisp white shirt and slacks. His name was… Miguel? Miguel crosses his arms, brows furrowed in quiet rage. Fuck. 
"I was just looking for.. uhh…" 
You know how it looks. It's the worst time for your brain to go blank, and you're left holding the hypothetical bag. You stand up a little too quickly, and smack your knee on the lip of the table. Half of the box spills onto the floor and you dart downwards, embarrassed. 
" Shit. Sorry, let me-" 
He leaps towards the floor, and you're forced behind him, as he scrambles to put everything in its place. You start to help and he stops, stock-still. As if in slow motion, his head turns to the side and he gives you a look that could kill thousands. Retreating, you shrink back, only able to watch helplessly. 
" Chica tonta... ¿se crió en un rancho? ¿qué clase de persona entra en casa de alguien y toca todas sus cosas?" He's muttering something under his breath - too fast and not saying anything you can understand. Pausing, he throws you a look. "...y luego me ve como si yo fuera el que está mal- ojos grandes y bonitos como de perrito pateado...oh dios mío.-" 
[silly little girl… was she raised in a barn? what kind of person walks into someone's house and touches all of their stuff? // and she looks at me like I'm the one in the wrong - big, pretty eyes like a kicked puppy… oh my god-] 
He's gentle with the box, the way he puts it in its place contrasting his mood a couple of seconds before. He closes up the door and you stumble to your feet. In the glow of halogen bulbs, he follows, arms crossed like a mother hen. 
"I think… I think I'm your new roommate?" You say your name and  stretch out a hand, but Miguel doesn't move. You watch as his eyes sweep over your body, shameless. 
"Are you asking, or telling me?" He sighs, pinching at his temples. 
"...Telling?" You offer him a weak smile, and he cracks.
Softening, ever so slightly, he grumbles. "I know. I know. Mr Estévez said you would be in tomorrow, though."
"I like to be early." 
"Right. Well… don't do that. Again, I mean." He clears his throat. "Don't touch my shit either. It's too… fuck , it's too late for this. I'm going to bed."
He kicks off his shoes, and all you can do is watch as he saunters off; the door to his room shutting with a resounding slam .
~~~
His name is Miguel O'Hara - not that he told you that, or anything. He hasn't spoken to you much at all, leaving you to figure out who he is and what he does from vague clues around the apartment. You don't go snooping , learning quickly from previous mistakes; but his full name on a letter slotted through the mail was fair game, you think. The most you've gotten out of him were grunts and frustrated requests to keep to your shelf in the fridge. 
Passive-aggressive wasn't in his vocabulary, you’re convinced. A plethora of dirty looks in his arsenal? Sure. Plenty of vulgar swears in Spanish? Absolutely. Miguel was not, however, passive-aggressive. Just… aggressive. Not angry, of course. Upfront. Abhorred any passivity and indolence: umm-ing and ahh-ing for the sake of it. 
So naturally , you were sent to kill him. 
You tiptoe around the apartment, avoiding him at all costs. At first, it wasn’t on purpose, just the awkwardness of your first meeting bleeding into the next week. But you dodge and weave like an expert boxer -  particularly impressive in the small space. Miguel’s in the kitchen? Suddenly, you’re not very hungry. He’s curled up on the couch for a movie? Wow, look at the time: and you're heading to bed. You can’t read him very well, and don’t trust yourself enough to look him in the eye without fear of melting under his gaze. The few short interactions you have, you crumble; a brush against his shoulder in the kitchen, or legs against his on the dining table. Not that Miguel offers a peace branch, pursing his lips when you’d make eye contact, somewhat frustrated at your theatrics. Call it cliche: you’re avoiding confrontation at all costs. It manifests itself in peculiar ways: the Shower Incident being the most memorable. 
The Shower Incident, aptly named, happened not too long ago. The apartment is old , as you soon learnt, coming with its own plethora of quirks. What you had first taken as character and charm - window seats and wood panelling - also came in the form of a building half falling apart. Creaky floorboards, leaky pipes, and a distinct lack of central heating. The discounted price, that had seemed like a bargain before, clearly lacked some creature comforts… like heating. And a working shower. 
As you’d been in a rush, you clattered into the bathroom; stripping in no time at all. Bare feet on the tile, and you turn the knobs at the base of the shower unit. You’re not going to pretend you know how it works, just yet, but… it’s not rocket science, is it? The brassy spout sputters; but with no luck. Groaning from the pipes makes you jump, before huffing in frustration. This is not the time; late to yet another 9.00am? You want to be different this year: organised, put together, and on time to your lectures. On your tiptoes, you peer down the shower head hesitantly, like it’s the barrel of a loaded gun. With cruel irony, it sputters to life, sending a face-full of ice-cold water your way.There’s a scream, as you scramble at the handles, scurrying out of its brunt; desperately trying to turn it off. 
Unbeknownst to you, Miguel leaps out of his room towards the shouting, with a fumble and clunk of his feet on wooden floor. He’s quick , hand hovering on the bathroom door before you can register it; his voice echoing outside. 
“Are you…” There’s scuffling, which you can just about hear over the pounding of the water against tiles. “Are you okay, in there?”
You wince, stepping out of the shower – legs shaky like a baby deer – as you gurgle. “...Yeah?”
“Can I –” He clears his throat. “Are you.. clothed ? Can I come in?”
You scramble for something to cover yourself, settling for a plush towel on the rack. Wrapping yourself up, you brace yourself for the grimace that's sure to be on his face. Tentatively, you crack the door open. There Miguel is, face knitted with worry. 
There's a flash of confusion at the scene, and then, what you think is relief. Relief you haven't cracked your head open, most likely: the blood would be hard to clean from the grout. You feel guilty, as you've probably broken it, or touched something you shouldn't. The shower is still on; sputtering, starting, and it becomes a strange sort of background music to your silent exchange. 
"I don't know how to use the shower." You say with a small voice, guiltily. 
" No me digas…" No shit, he mutters, face back to the furrowed brow you're starting to become more familiar with. He sighs, easing up. "You hurt?" 
You shake your head, and swear you see a small smile on his face. You looked like a waterboarded rat, probably: big watery eyes and shaking with the sudden cold. 
A mess , he thinks. But not a bad view. 
He's still in workout clothes from his morning run, compression shirt and lazy shorts that hug his ass on; as he turns towards the shower. With some sense of shame, you try not to stare, to not watch the muscles of his back and arms flex as he angles the shower head away from his face. It's not enough that you've embarrassed yourself – twice, in the space of a couple of days – but the fact it was in front of your roommate, who is maybe the most beautiful person you've seen up close. Which, granted, narrows the field; but Miguel is gorgeous, a flash of pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates, wide palms toggling the dial. 
"You need to be careful… push it in slightly when you turn the-" You crane your head towards his movements. "Come closer, or you won't see what I'm doing."
You move towards him, half naked and shivering, trying not to buckle with the heat of his body next to yours. This is what you get for not having spoken to a man since your ex: a tight coil at the base of your stomach for someone that you've done nothing but unwittingly terrorise for the past week.  
He explains, patient and even-tempered; how to use the shower and you half-zone out to the low tone of his voice. There's no malice, or pomp in his words when there are a million things he could make fun of you for - that Jamie may have made fun of you for. You look up, at the sharp lines of his face, and chew at your lip, deep in thought. 
"...and this side is for hot water. Next time, just ask me – instead of almost drowning."
You nod, embarrassed. "Sorry."
"...For what?" He says, softly. "Place is falling apart, anyway. It's not really your fault." You're convinced everything you touch in this house breaks, but with the way he looks at you, you believe him. 
"Just ask me, next time." He echoes and makes for the door, stopping to drag his eyes up and down your frame. Oh… oh. You like that, the way he looks at you shamelessly, practically undressing you. 
He smiles, amused at your deer-in-headlights expression. 
"...I think that's mine."
He nods to the towel wrapped around your body and your eyes bulge out of their sockets. " Fuck , I didn't realise-" 
He shrugs, noncommittal. 
"...Seems like you need it more than me, anyways."
~~~
It's a rough first couple of days, and then a week, and then two. The rhythm is all off: like the jerky stop and start of an old car. He wakes up early to go on runs at the ass-crack of dawn, and you stay up late to finish papers and assignments. He has a job, you think, darting out at the same time once or twice a week in smart clothing and a backpack. Sometimes, you catch him hunched over a laptop or scribbling something in a beat up old notebook. Maybe, he’s a student - even if he doesn’t seem quite like the fresh-faced 19 year olds you see around campus. Although, you suppose it’s not implausible; you were one of the older people in your classes, after all. It’s hard to imagine O’Hara, stony-faced and serious, at a… dorm party, or something. To be that carefree, he’d need to get rid of that stick up his ass, first.
You’ve got a day off from lectures, using the time to catch up on the reading you should’ve done over a hectic break. The list seems to go on and on, already, this early into the year. Internally, you’ve made a promise to be on top of it all - the little hiccup with Jamie, notwithstanding. You’d knuckle down this morning, reading ( scanning) and summarising ( liberal use of the copy-paste function) in preparation for the rest of the semester. Miguel’s locked up in his room, somewhere, so you use the opportunity to spread out onto the dining table.
There’s a knock at the door that makes you look up from the muddle of words on your screen.
When you open the door, there’s a woman there with a notebook in hand. She’s pretty, in a classic sort of way, ginger braids cropped to her shoulders and lips slathered with gloss. Her outfit is relaxed, but carefully curated: a tight jumper and long brown legs stretching out from a black skirt. 
“Hi.” She says, visibly keening. It’s clear she wasn’t expecting you, but she quickly recovers and gives you a blinding smile. 
“...Hi,” Honestly, you’re a little confused. You haven’t seen her around the complex before; so who she was, you hadn’t a clue. Too pretty to be a door-to-door salesman, and too hot to try to convert you to Mormonism, you think. Whatever that means.
You wait expectantly, as a beat passes. 
“Oh!” She laughs, and it sounds like puppies and rainbows, much too bright and airy considering the time of day. It makes her next words even more of a shock. “I’m looking for Miguel.”
With her last words, she steps a little closer; scanning the apartment from her vantage point. Something in you bubbles up, but you try to choke down the laughter. 
“You’re looking for...Miguel?” Even out of your own mouth, it sounds absurd . The man had no friends, as far as you could tell. He seemed like the type to lock himself away in his enclosure, only stepping out for work, school, the bare minimum. In the short week that’s passed, his ‘enrichment time’ had consisted of a dry documentary on spider mating cycles - which had been a shock to walk into, the first time. 
So someone here, at the apartment? Looking for him? Fidgeting, you scratch at your neck. “Uhh, I ca-”
“Sorry about that, Jia. You can have a seat.” His voice comes from behind you, and Jia breezes into the apartment, perching on the sofa. Legs crossed, she reaches into her bag, taking out a laptop and a pen and paper. He’s changed out of his workout clothes, donned in a loose white sweater and casual trousers - relaxed, for once. With a limp thud, you close the door. There’s an odd feeling as you look around at the scene: tension, and you feel like you’re interrupting. Miguel clatters around in the kitchen, fumbling for mugs and coffee filters and God knows what else.
“...was it two sugars, or three?”
“Three!” She throws over her shoulder, tapping away at her open laptop. “I like it sweet, Miguel.”
You squint. He laughs : a small chuckle that comes with a heat at the base of your stomach. Your head almost aches, trying to recalibrate; reconcile with the version of the person you’ve barely seen around the apartment to now - present, engaged, and personable. Exasperated is the only word for it. Miguel O’Hara was, in fact, capable of joy. Dickhead.
He barely acknowledges you, but Jia does; batting her wispy eyelashes in your direction, curious. The tapping stops, and she curls the corner of her mouth up with a hint of a smile. 
“You gonna introduce me?” She calls out to Miguel, and then smiles to you; warm and genuine. It makes you feel a little more at ease. You catch the end of a sigh coming from the kitchen.
“Jia, this is my roommate.” He glances up to gesture towards you. “...this is Jia. I… help her out with work, sometimes.”
From the couch, she rolls her eyes. “He’s too modest. He’s my tutor, technically.”
With that, your eyebrows shoot up. Of everything you’d imagined him doing, tutoring students wasn’t one of them - especially considering he seemed barely out of college himself.
“...Technically?” 
“He doesn’t like to advertise it, because he’s picky with his clientele.” She giggles and he scoffs. You get the feeling there’s a joke flying over your head, just out of reach. “Word gets out on campus that Miguel’s tutoring again…”
“ Vale, vale ,” He grumbles, but his tone is good-natured and light. “S’enough, Jia.”
She gives you a wink, before turning towards her work.
You walk towards your things, still on the dining table. He’s got his head buried in a kitchen cabinet and you look on, wanting to ask a lot of things. The words seem to die in your throat: too big, too small, not the right shape. She's a stranger; that knows where the coffee’s kept and the best spot on the couch. That makes Miguel laugh . You want to ask him about the stranger in your home; but you’re too scared he’d turn and point the finger at you.
He walks to the couch, balancing two cups of coffee. You look back. Next to him, her presence is an oddity - a blip in his carefully crafted universe. With the warm sheen of familiarity, she nudges his shoulder. Taking careful sips, he pointedly ignores her, tapping a finger at her screen - as if to say, pay attention. She smiles, wide; an asteroid across the depths of space, dazzling and brilliant in the night sky. 
The exchange… it makes you think. If Miguel is the Sun, and Jia, a bright body in orbit: what’s your place in this four-walled cosmos? Where do you belong? 
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