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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Note

Do you think you could do a male version of the radioapple is the safe word? Or maybe just a gender neutral pronouned story? I adore it so much

of course! I am happy to adapt my stories whenever possible 🥺✨ sometimes I can’t but this one was an easy enough shift! didn’t tag the horny deer cult, this is the same story but with the hardware swapped out. Will tag in new pieces 🙏 warning; I almost exclusively watch femboy gay porn and it shows

The Safeword is RadioApple (Part 1)

(RadioApple x MaleReader)

Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, male reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, asshole hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main

MINORS DNI BRUH

“Sir.”

Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.

“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”

“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”

But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”

With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”

“Daaad!” She groaned.

“Yeah yeah, I’m going.”

Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”

Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.

He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”

Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.

“Luci.”

Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.

It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.

Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.

You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more.

Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.

That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.

No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.

For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.

Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.

“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.

Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.

“You can say no.” You added quickly.

“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.

“Many reasons.” You added quicker.

“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.

You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.

“You what now?”

His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you.

“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed him.”

If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”

But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder.

“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.

You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”

Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.

Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.

“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.

“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my boy.’

“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”

He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest, hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.

Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”

He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you.

Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission.

Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises.

You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.

Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest.

You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”

A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.

Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.

He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. Your own cock twitched under your robe at the feeling.

Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.

Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.

When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.

One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants.

“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.

Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”

“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.

“Three’s a crowd.”

“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, hole soft and ready for him already, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.

Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men.

“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek.

Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible.

Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft. He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.

“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.

Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Your cock hard and bouncing with every thrust. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—

“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?

“See? He can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself.

With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.”

Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your tight heat. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it.

When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.

Tempting.

But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms.

He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands.

Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time–

Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself.

Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again.

Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.

Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your dick, now pulsing under his hand. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your g-spot with every kiss of his hips.

You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your face tighten. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. His hands working your shaft, fingers ghosting over your balls and head with every stroke up and down.

With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed, your own release sticky and already cooling under you.

Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants.

“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you.

Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”

With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed and stretched hole.

“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci.

Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide in and out of your with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it.

With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your ass, teasing your entrance with every pass. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn.

As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway.

Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon.

Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling dear.

What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.

What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?

Your nails cut into his skin, and you were worried you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your bullied boy cunt got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths.

Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead.

You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt.

Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected.

As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.

Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.

He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.

Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would roll back, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so sticky wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper.

It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.

Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.

Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.

The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If he needs you to stop, he’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever he can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your muscles clenched around him earned you a hiss.

He began to move again, the new position causing his stomach to rut against your returning erection as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more.

“Are you sure he isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.

“Nonsense. Can’t you feel him? Or does he just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.

You unconsciously tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back.

Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.

He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before, stomach lurching into your chest with the impact.

He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were covered in oil and cum, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock opening parts of you never before reached. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning.

You could feel him spreading open your body, soft walls helpless to resist his raging member. The feeling of your silky boy cunt sliding along his cock, your tight hole gripping him, was driving him mad.

You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Wails that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.

A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.

An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.

The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.

As Luci became lost in the sensation of your body trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.

Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”

Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.

The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”

Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”

Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised ass.

Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.

Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.

Second, rage.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you.

“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”

Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.

“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.

You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.

Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”

But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”

Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.

There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”

༻Masterlist༺

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sshadowritestoriess · 1 year

Note

hello! could you write something with zen echo and ramattra (sorry if that's too many characters) with a human reader who kisses them even tho they don't really have a mouth, I'd like to know their reactions

Kissing robots is so good <3

Kissing Zenyatta

Kisses aren’t a display that surprises him, really!

It might have been pretty anticlimactic the first instance that you had press your lips to his faceplate, a gesture of which he gently leaned into and remained patiently still, until you pulled away

But he would still sometimes entertain you with a prized “oh!” as if he hadn’t expected it

He only apologized the first time for not being able to return the favor the same way, but he was delighted by receiving such a human affection! It pleases him immensely that you would demonstrate this kind of love as if he were human

The best he could do to reciprocate was to press his forehead against yours, lean carefully into your touch, or nudge his jaw against your cheek

He’d be ridiculously gentle doing these things, highly aware that he was of metal and that humans bruise quite easily.

When you would kiss him where he would have a mouth, he liked to respond with a verbal “mwah!” or other kiss sound

You both would also have a habit of blowing kisses to one another as well. He loves pretending to catch yours, and would feign placing it on his cheek before signing “I love you” with his hand

But he also liked to take your hands in his and press your knuckles to the nine lights of his forehead, feeling the warmth of his glow against your hands in his own means of returning the gesture

Sometimes he even asks for kisses, very politely. It’s hard to refuse (but why would you?)

Kissing Echo

Considering her face is just a hologram, you both occasionally forget that and share an amused moment when trying to kiss each other

Sometimes it’s definitely on purpose though! Feigning a kiss upon one another’s mouth with sweet smiles, and an especially elated giggle from Echo

Your one-sided kisses always make her gasp, an expressive look of joyous surprise on her face that leaves her mouth agape

She finds it so interesting, curious, and will lift to you her hands and turn her head from side to side asking “Can you do that here? And what about from here?”

So it’s not really a one-and-done— if you kiss her, you’re gonna end up doing quite a couple. She loves it very much

She doesn’t seem bothered that she can’t truly kiss you back, and if asked she’ll tell you “I think there’s something just as special about pretending!”

And it’s true. The make-believe gestures of affection are something very unique to her that may as well be real in its own way

Just because she couldn’t kiss you doesn’t mean she wasn’t. It may not be the same, but it felt no different than if she could. And it was fun, and worth her reactions

She could never bore of your kisses, nor tire of returning them.

Kissing Ramattra

Ramattra, on the other hand, would somehow end up shocked by your kisses every single time without fail. Subtly flinching as if you’d accidentally surprised him

He’d make a disgruntled noise after your display, but he’d never ask you to stop. He would, however, make sure now and again that you didn’t think he was going to be able to suddenly kiss you back one day

Sometimes he’d mutter something about “human gestures”, but it was hard to discern if it was bringing him offense or not. But again, he never told you he didn’t like it— and he was pretty open about telling you the things that brought him unease

It was more like he was just tolerating it for a while, but he’d eventually begin appreciating it

While he can’t kiss you, he does have a similar gesture that brings him a lot more satisfaction when you attempt to do the same

His specific model can summon a very brief vibration from behind the “mouth” of his faceplate, an old discreet means of communicating that uses the gentle buzz as something similar to Morse code. The pulses produce no sound, but emits a small encoded wave between omnics— like sending a text directly into someone’s mind

It wasn’t a language any human could decipher, but he’d press his ‘mouth’ to your neck or cheek and speak a quick note of affection there, anyway.

You seemed to understand it was loving. And when one day he’d tucked his face into your shoulder and his faceplate pulses ticklishly against your skin again, he was suddenly ecstatic when you leaned your throat against his head and hummed quickly, in the same rhythm he did, mocking his gesture

So, technically, you were telling him you loved him back by repeating his ‘message’, and you had no idea.

He wouldn’t admit a thing to you, but you could tell it made him pretty happy.

And while he preferred his version of “kisses” to yours, he would never turn down your ways of showing him that you loved him

#overwatch #overwatch2 #headcanons #fluff #kisses #ramattra overwatch #ramattra #reader insert #zenyatta #echo overwatch #echo #echo x reader #Ramattra x reader #Zenyatta x reader

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Note

"kabukimono... i'm really flattered, but could you please stop trailing after me like a lost puppy? it's exhausting."

He has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

The eccentric thinks to take a step back — granting you the space you so desperately long for — but he can’t. He’s frozen, the soles of his feet stuck to the ground. There’s a surge inside his chest. A dull ache that has him wanting to scratch at his perfect skin if it meant distracting him from the pain within.

Apologies stumble from him, quiet and rushed. You don’t depart from him right away, much to his immense relief. He knows it’d agitate you further if you walked off and he still acted as your shadow. He can’t help himself, it’s an instinct, the same you humans have and act on all the time. If you’re hungry, you eat. If you’re thirsty, you drink. For him, if he sees you, he must follow.

Would you believe him if he confessed this? That basking in your presence is as essential to him as breathing is for you?

How can he make you understand when he barely grasps it himself?

You sigh, heavy and tired. He can’t help but wince when you close what little distance remains between you both. He watches with wide, doe-like eyes as your thumb comes to brush against his lower lash line. There’s a glimmering sheen on your skin when you pull away.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you implore, and he tries. Tries to give you what you ask for, what you want. He always does. “I’m... I’m sorry. It’s just been a stressful past few days is all. You’re fine, just— I worry about you, y’know?”

“You worry... about me?” He repeats the foreign concept back to you. He would’ve had an easier time believing you if you confessed to being an Archon in disguise or if you told him the sky wasn’t real.

“Yeah. If you’re always hanging out with me, then you’re missing out on making a whole lot of other connections. There’s plenty more out there for you to see.”

The puppet thinks your argument is sound, yet he can’t abide by it. “But I only want to see you.”

He says it so sincerely too.

“T-This is what I mean! You need to be careful when saying stuff like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

You turn on your heel and start back down the path to your abode. He watches your retreating figure with a tilted head, ruminating. You humans make less sense the more time he spends among you. He meant every word of what he said, so it’s beyond him why you’d think he didn’t.

Just when he’s trying to remember the best angles to see in through your windows while remaining hidden are, you stop, glancing at him from over your shoulder.

“Are you coming? There’s gonna be a thunderstorm tonight, I can feel it in the air. I don’t want you to be without shelter.”

He tries not to break out into a run to catch up with you. Elation soars through his artificial veins — the ease in which you can ruin or rebuild him should be frightening. However, he isn’t scared in the slightest. Whichever of the two you choose... so long as it’s brought by your hands, he’ll happily accept any fate you mold for him.

#he is BABY ... although a creepy one at that #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #interactions #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

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sehodreams · 3 months

Text

sex money feelings die - second visit

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

WC: 1.5k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

Mondays became the new Fridays.

Anton had completely stopped booking the VIP room for him and his friends and disappeared until Monday came, the girls were sad at first, missing his expensive champagne and pretty face, but since his friends didn’t stop coming and they also brought their own drinks to share they quickly got over it.

Shotaro was elated to have now two big incomes in the week instead of just one, and every time he saw you around, he patted your back as if he was congratulating you for making the right choice.

You don’t know how right was to accept his money, the first time you told yourself you deserved it as compensation for all the stress he caused you, but after the fourth time you had started to feel bad receiving the wad of cash when all you two did was talk and sometimes drink, and you didn’t even drink with him, you just made sure his glass was full while you talked about recipes you had tried days before, how clients had treated you during the week, or maybe some gossip you heard around.

And he always kept the conversation flowing so smoothly that, before you noticed, you had started to talk about things you wanted too, from the simplest dish you had tried in your infancy to the coat you had seen when you were window shopping at the mall.

‘’I can buy it for you’’ he answered when you described the long black coat you saw that weekend.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay Anton, it’s not that I can’t, but there are more important things I could buy with that money.’’

‘’Like what?’’ he seemed sincerely curious about what else you had to do with money instead of buying yourself something truly wanted.

Saying you could buy your brother more practice books was impossible, you hadn’t talk about that kind of personal aspects of your life. Also, you asked yourself, would he be able to understand you? You saw the gold earrings he had on each of his ear globes, drops shiny enough to know they weren’t fake like the ones you bought yourself in the little fairs you visited when you had time, and you didn’t dare to even guess the price, because you were sure they costed enough to pay at least four months of your rent.

‘’Like food or, I don’t know, pay my bills, I don’t feel good wasting too much money on myself.’’

‘’Why would it be a waste to buy yourself something you want? Of course, those things are important, but gifting yourself things you want too.’’

He wouldn’t understand you at all. You couldn’t tell him how a two thousand coat was not something you could gift yourself, you had a mouth to feed, a student to maintain, and when you were young you never appreciated how much your mother did for you, but now that you were on her shoes, you understood why she collapsed after so many years taking care of you two without thinking about her own health. You couldn’t even afford fruit when you were young, you would be happy if you had a fried egg in your lunch, and now you decided that eating two fruits a day was a better decision than buying some piece of cloth that your brother wouldn’t find useful at all.

‘’I shouldn’t, I have to think about the future, I don’t know what could happen tomorrow.’’ You saw his glass half empty and tried to fill it again to avoid his eyes on you.

Minutes passed and the uncomfortable silence that you had forgotten about after so many times together came again, making you shrug in your spot, wishing you hadn’t talked about that. He seemed to deeply think about something while slowly nodding and sipping his glass full again, and before you were about to change the subject to something one of the girls had said about him, he interrupted you.

‘’What I give to you is not enough? Should I give you more?’’

‘’Anton in first place I don’t know why you give me so much money, you could have any girl in this place, you don’t have to put up with me.’’

His hand found yours and, caressing the back of it to calm you, he sighed.

After so many nights talking until Sungchan called for you, he had learned many things about you, how you enjoyed sweets a lot, how you always had a praise for the people you worked with and how you never recognized how special you were.

‘’Can I ask you a favor?’’ You, tired of hearing that phrase, like always, stayed silent until the other person said what wanted from you. ‘’Could you treat yourself a little better? I don’t think you realize what you do, but you talk as if you didn’t deserve nice things, and I’m not here to lecture you or anything, but it’s painful to hear how you say things like waste, or put up, and I thought that, after all the times we were together, you would notice that, for me, you would never be someone I have to put up with, I’m here because I want to, and because I think your company is as valuable as what I pay for, to not say more.’’

The tenderness with what he said it made you blush and, grateful for the room to be so dark and your foundation so good, you let him hold your hand.

He chuckled when your smokey eyes met his, seeing you so shy with just a grasp of his hand after knowing how bold you could be was a charm he didn’t expect from you, and when he saw how your ears betrayed you, all red and obvious even with the dim light of the place, he found himself as lost as when you took off your robe and showed him your pretty set of lingerie.

The occasion never repeated, you two strictly talked and got to know each other, so he never received another of your shows again. Kind of sad, but he didn’t mind, seeing your soft face and hearing your voice was enough to keep him satisfied the whole night.

However, he thought about you a lot more the next days, sometimes he thought about calling your boss and asking for more of your time on random days, but he didn’t want to scare you away when you were getting so close. For him, you were just like one of those stray cats he had seen around his elite school when he was younger. His friends and he would sneak some food a couple of times, and they would instantly run away from them and hide if they weren’t careful enough, and even if with every encounter they would warm up and occasionally accept to be petted, just the action of one of the immature boys, like putting too much pressure with their hands or being too loud, would be enough to make them run away, and would have to start all over again.

Your eyes met his and, holding all his desire to give you a kiss over your nude lips, he focused his attention on going back to the conversation.

‘’So, what do you say, will you do me that favor?’’

You hummed with a smile, you were tired of favors, but this was the first time you didn’t mind that someone asked you for one. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’

Testing the waters, he pulled the hand he was holding and gave it a quick but delicate peck. ‘’Knowing that you will think about me later it’s enough for me.’’

Not believing his cheesy line you scoffed, ‘’I’ll think about what you said, not about you.’’

‘’Well, just so you know, I’m always thinking about you.’’

Your laugh brought him joy again, whipped with the sound of it, he always left feeling victorious if he made you laugh during the night.

He kissed your wrist this time, and you didn’t pull your hand away, so he felt he had advanced a big step with you after so many nights.

‘’Why don’t you come Fridays anymore? The girls miss you’’ you changed subjects, like you always did when Anton, or made you uncomfortable, or made you too comfortable.

‘’And you? Do you miss me?’’ he replied kissing your index finger.

‘’Sometimes, your champagne is better than your friend’s’’ you had no idea how it tasted, but it always smelled good, so you decided it wasn’t exactly a lie.

He was exhilarating, hearing how you wanted to see him more was something he had waited for so long. ‘’I’ll make sure to bring two bottles then.’’

You let him hold your hand until you were called, and that night Shotaro gave you a check. ‘’Too many bills’’ he said.

Anton had given you a raise.

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

#riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut #riize hard thoughts #riize hard hours #riize imagines #riize fluff

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thecasualauthor · 28 days

Text

@jilymicrofics March Prompt 30: Inferior

Brought to you by a jegulus fueled rage. Thank you to my discord people for enabling me. This one's for you.

Read under the cut!

----

Lily is not a violent person.

She prefers to talk things out, to have a reasoned, rational discussion.

Most of the time.

But Regulus Black is staring at her with such a smug expression, having just called her mudblood to her face after belittling her potions abilities (and her magical ability in general), and she will not be made to feel inferior to Sirius Black’s kid brother of all people.

So she really doesn’t feel the slightest bit guilty as she launches herself at him.

Regulus, it seems, was not expecting this, and he lets out a yelp. His wand goes flying out of his hand as Lily collides with him, sending both of them to the ground.

Her father had taught her how to defend herself as a child without magic, and every single memory of where to hit, how hard to hit, flies through her mind, and she acts on it.

Ignoring any protests or attempts at retaliation from the Slytherin sixth year, Lily unleashes a flurry of punches, each one fueled by her rage and determination.

Regulus, taken aback by the unexpected assault, attempts to shield and retaliate, but he's clearly outmatched, despite his quidditch activities and supposed “dark arts” training.

“Potter! Do something!”

Lily doesn’t know who says it, but she isn’t being stopped, or even told to do so. In fact, she’s ninety percent sure James is laughing hysterically.

Unfortunately, the commotion attracts the attention of Professor McGonagall, who arrives on the scene with a small shriek, and she pulls Lily off of Regulus, who’s curled into something like a ball on the ground.

"Lily Evans, what on earth do you think you're doing?" McGonagall demands, her voice sharp with authority.

Breathing heavily, Lily meets McGonagall's gaze. "He had it coming, Professor," she retorts. And despite the horrified look on McGonagall’s face, Lily glances at Regulus and feels a sense of satisfaction wash over her. She’d beaten him.

The muggle way.

James keeps laughing. Tears are literally streaming down his face, and he manages to chortle, “That was the greatest thing you have ever done, Lily.”

“That’s enough, Potter,” McGonagall snaps. “I should give you a detention for not intervening.”

James just wipes tears from his eyes and gives Lily a thumbs-up, and she feels a surge of pride.

“I’m guessing I’m getting a detention for this?” She asks politely.

McGonagall blinks, as if she can’t believe her eyes. “Yes, Miss Evans. You are absolutely getting a detention. Several of them.”

Lily shrugs.

“Fair enough.”

As McGonagall turns her attention to Regulus, ensuring he's not seriously injured (which is unnecessary in Lily’s opinion), Lily catches James's eye. His laughter has subsided, replaced by a look of admiration mixed with absolute elation. Lily can't help but feel a warmth spread through her chest at the sight of his approving gaze, and she winks at him.

Later, after Lily’s been assigned a week's worth of detentions cleaning the trophy room, as well as been banned from attending the next Hogsmede trip, James walks with her back to the common room.

“I thought about helping you,” he says, “but it looked like you had it under control.” Lily shrugs.

“You’ve had enough detentions,” she says. “And besides, he needed a muggleborn to take him down a few pegs.”

James grins. “I can just imagine the look on Lucius Malfoy’s face when he learns his latest recruit got beaten to a pulp.”

“I only wish we could see it,” Lily laughs, and James nudges her with his shoulder.

“I would take you out to Hogsmede this weekend if you weren’t forbidden from going,” he says. “As a treat, you know.” Lily’s smile widens, and she lets her fingers graze against his.

“Ask me next time,” she says, a little softer, “And I might just say yes.” James looks even happier, if possible, and as they continue their walk, he reminisces every second of Lily’s victory like he does about his quidditch wins, and Lily thinks she’s content to listen to him all day.

When they push open the portrait hole, the first person they see is Sirius.

“Heard you got a load of detentions, Evans,” he says gleefully. “Whatever did you do?” He looks at them innocently, and judging by his expression, Lily can tell he knows exactly what Lily did to earn all those detentions.

“It was amazing, Padfoot,” James beams. “The greatest thing to ever happen at this school.”

Lily rolls her eyes affectionately.

“Sorry I beat up your brother, Black,” Lily says, and Sirius shrugs.

“I’m not,” he says. “I just wish I’d been there to see it.”

Lily grins.

#jily #lily evans potter #james potter #emma floods the jily tag with jily #I had the time of my life with this #regulus black gets beat to a pulp the muggle way #Justice for Lily evans

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rambheem-is-real · 4 months

Text

Hurts So Good Part 1

pairing: Varadeva

warnings: NSFW in part 2

This one shot got longer than I thought so I'm splitting it into multiple parts, based on this post

It’s over. Deva has rescued Krishnakanth’s daughter from the Khansaar soldiers. There’s a surge of relief that at least this once, he was able to protect her. He can’t forget the look in Aadhya’s eyes from the day she went to the market and he had stayed holding onto the pole. How can he tell her, this stranger, about the promise he made to his mother? How can she know what he’s capable of?

Deva hadn’t realized until he blasted the trucks open, that the men were from Khansaar, and that the shipment had the Salaar’s seal stamped onto every container. His own seal, staring at him after almost a decade. Not that seeing it earlier would have stopped his attack.

Amma wanted him to keep Aadhya safe, Deva would keep Aadhya safe.

His whole life had revolved around one word for the last few years: Amma. Her word might as well have been the word of god, not that he believed in one anymore. She did her best to protect him from falling back into old habits, strict as she was. He had heard the whispers from the women when he killed Vishnu: Kaateramma koduku. Rakshasudu. The woman doing tattoos had painted a devil onto his arm after seeing his future. At some point, those names started to feel literal, and only Amma had been able to calm him down. She had made him promise to never use violence again, unless she explicitly told him to do so, and Deva had not broken that promise in seven years. He looks over at her, the mother that hadn’t so much as given him a loving glance in years.

Amma is looking out of the window, avoiding his gaze, as always. He smiles to himself. Whatever happened, he hadn’t broken their promise.

The next second, their car explodes, and Deva loses consciousness.

Deva wakes up in darkness. He takes stock immediately of the chains threaded through his wrists, and the ones tying his ankles to the floor. There’s a gag in his mouth and a blindfold around his eyes, preventing him from fully seeing where he is, but he doesn’t need to. He’s been in a cell like this seven years ago. This time it seems like they’ve taken precautions.

Well, of course they would, because he would’ve told them how dangerous Deva was.

His traitorous heart starts beating faster at the mere thought, and Deva tries in vain to conjure back images of him holding Amma at gunpoint. You can’t feel that way about him anymore, Deva tries to think, but he knows it's useless. His corpse could be brought back to life at the mere mention of that man’s name. Sometime in his childhood, Deva had given him his heart, and never found a way to get it back. The scars running down his arms are both a blessing and a curse, keeping Deva from forgetting the boy he once would’ve destroyed the entire world for.

He estimates it’s about an hour before he hears footsteps, multiple sets.

“Leave us.” There’s a quiet order, before only one set of feet walk into his cell, the rest fading away.

Deva knows in his bones who it is, recognizes the melodic tone of the steps. Just hearing his voice had simultaneously elated and terrified him. Not for himself, of course he wasn’t scared for his own safety. He had come to fear the power that the other man had always held over him.

It was for this man that he had stained his hands red, that he had killed the Ghaniyar leader in a fit of anger, just because he had dared to lay hands on his Sulthan. He can’t disappoint Amma again, he can’t break his promise to her. He doesn’t want more flashes of men dying by his hands every night, he doesn’t want to go back to being that monster. But for Varadharaja Mannar, Deva knows he would kill again in a heartbeat.

There’s a few beats of silence.

“I told you I never wanted to see your face again.” That beloved voice, now cold as ice. Deva can recall too well the anger on Varadha’s face when he had first issued the order to Deva, seven years ago. He stays silent. “Or did you not know, that it was the Khansaar cargo you disrupted? Bilal certainly seemed to think so.”

There are calloused fingers on Deva’s face, tilting it this way and that. He thinks Varadha might be trying to see any differences, the results of age.

“But the fact of the matter remains: You broke the seal you yourself imposed. The punishment for that in the Nibandhanam is death.” A glimpse of a memory, of his own hands writing out the consequences of tampering with the Salaar’s seal. “And for what?”

The fingers suddenly tighten, pressing hard enough to bruise Deva’s cheeks and jaw. “All this, for a girl?” Varadha hisses. “Is she your lover? You couldn’t pick anyone other than Krishnakanth’s daughter?”

Deva’s lips twitch. He understands more what this is about, now. As possessive as Deva is about Varadha, only he knows that Varadha is worse about Deva. The other man had only been calm his whole life because he never worried about Deva, due to some childhood belief that Deva was invincible. He wants to laugh at the thought that after all these decades, the only threat Varadha decided existed to Deva and his feelings for Varadha was a lady that couldn’t even yell at a bunch of unruly school children to shut them up.

Deva knows Varadha sees the smile when he hears a sharp intake of breath from above. He’ll let Varadha come to any conclusions he wants. If he thinks Aadhya is important to Deva he might keep her alive, to use her as a bargaining chip. He doesn’t have any romantic intentions, but Varadha doesn’t need to know. He only genuinely feels bad for Aadhya. She had come to India to disperse her mother’s ashes, to respect her last wishes, and had gotten mixed up in whatever Deva and Varadha’s relationship now was.

Friends? Not anymore. Enemies? Not when they were each other’s weakness. They were just somewhere in between, where the bad memories were outweighing the good.

Deva’s head is yanked up by the hair. “I knew it,” Varadha spits. “You love her? You chose her?” Over me? is left unsaid, but Deva hears it anyway.

Varadha seems to realize that Deva can’t respond, and yanks the gag out of his mouth. Deva knows what he wants: an explicit rejection.

“Leave her alone,” Deva says, voice rough from disuse. It’ll sound like a confirmation that he loves Aadhya, but Deva doesn’t have to lie for it. He could never blatantly lie to his Varadha.

There’s silence. Deva counts the beats in his head, trying to figure out what Varadha will do next.

Finally, Varadha speaks. “The court wants you dead, for breaking the seal.” It’s a complete sidestepping of the Aadhya issue, and the sentence is uttered with barely suppressed heartbreak. Deva hates deceiving Varadha like this, but he has to keep Aadhya alive no matter what. Amma would be disappointed otherwise.

“But you know as well as I do, that I can’t do that.” The fingers are on his face again, this time ghosting over his lips. “We’re too intertwined.” A pause. “Or maybe you’re fine, now that you have a girlfriend.” The bitterness is back. “But you’re still my weakness, my Salaar. So what now?”

The fingers press more insistently on his lips, and Deva doesn’t know why he does, but he lets them fall open a little.

“What now,” Varadha trails off, as he sees. There’s a breath, and Varadha slips his thumb right into Deva’s mouth. They stay frozen together like that, until Varadha straightens. “Oh.” Deva hears the smirk in his voice as Varadha says, “I know what I want.”

tags: @deadloverscity @sada-siva-sanyaasi @sambaridli @sometimesbrave @just-a-lazy-person @vijayasena @mad-who-ra @umbrulla @jitterbugbetty @chocolate-1-0-1 @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @sinistergooseberries @tulodiscord @varadevaficrecs @hum-suffer @nini9224 @varadevlawyer @susi-r8here

#salaar #varadeva #salaar fic #varadha being the clown he is about deva #deva being somewhere between scared and h word

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firefirefruit · 4 months

Text

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Four

Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

Chapter Four: A Cyborg, A Skeleton and A Lot of Limbs Walk Into A Shop…

You’ve always liked early mornings. Those moments where everything remains silent, untouched, and it feels like only you can drift across the earth like a ghost. You love to be the first witness of the sun stirring from its own slumber, where you can sit down and think and think and think and know that the day still hasn’t started yet. You’re relieved because you know you’re not wasting your day. This is just the entrée to the main course.

With a cup of coffee pressed against your red-hot palms, you lay against your workbench and admire the mild light that filters through the door. Your eyes slightly drift across your studio, taking in the heap of unrestored mess made from yesterday. You let out a pent-up sigh... Well, at least you’re getting some help with that.

From a distance, you pick up on the faint form of Gramps ambling towards you, making you almost smile in greeting – almost. Because as you strain your eyes harder, you realise that there’s another person who’s towering beside him, silently listening to the excitable one-sided conversation made by your old man.

Much to your unsurprise, it’s him.

You observe him silently, tapping a thoughtful finger against your mug.

Huh. He’s still wearing those hilts by his hip, you notice. Any other wielder would opt to throw those empty carcasses away by now.

Somehow sensing you, the marimo cocks his head and his eye naturally falls onto yours. His golden earrings dance in the morning light like a flickering flame, making sound only gold can elicit from a breeze. The light brushes across his closed eye, uncovering the deep white scars of his history, and for a split second, you begin to wonder about them.

From a distance, he narrows his piercing gaze with a questioning brow, and undeterred as you are, you stare straight back at the green-head.

Without breaking your gaze, the two men near you, and Gramps being as oblivious as ever is still completely lost in his own line of conversation.

“And that’s why Kotetsu, from eons ago, favoured the ores from the Rippling Ground rather than the—"

“Good morning,” you interrupt, deciding to offer relief to the marimo from your babbling old man.

Gramps beams at you, waving a calloused hand in greeting. He turns to the marimo, having to dramatically crane his head up to look at him. “I told you she’d be awake.”

“I haven’t started on the swords, if that’s why you’re here…” you curiously state, cocking your head at the samurai.

As Bull-Head opens his mouth to reply, Gramps interjects giddily.

“I invited him here.”

Oh, well that figures. You know your Gramps sees something in this guy, but you don’t really get what it is.

You take another long look at the scarred marimo, which he returns with an expressionless countenance.

“What?” He gruffly snaps.

You smirk a little, walking towards your forge. “Did you fall out of bed? Your hair’s sticking up.”

You don’t need to turn around to see it happen – you hear the man hiss to himself as he pats over his head aimlessly.

“I met the others by the dock,” Gramps Sukiyaki informs with a little grin on his weathered face. “Funny bunch, they are!”

You can’t help but smile at his elated demeanour; it seems like the Straw Hats are definitely improving his mood in these days. You can’t help but like the fact that they’re all most certainly clinically insane.

“Raya!” Nami shouts from the field, jogging with Chopper on her shoulder. “We brought a few more of us than expected, I hope that’s okay!”

Chopper apologetically grins at you as they enter through the wide door. “More like - we couldn’t stop them from coming…”

You push off from your stool and smile at the two, shaking your head. “That just means more helpful hands!”

Three odd figures begin to file in after Nami and Chopper, excitedly looking around the studio with freshly intrigued eyes.

“Woah! Luffy wasn’t lying about this place,” the metallic man exclaims wildly, stomping through your workspace like a kid in a candy shop.

“Yo-ho! This energy…this soul - I can feel it in my bones!” The…speaking skeleton…grins, clambering along inside with the robot.

Clang! Rattle!

“Don’t just fucking walk in before introducing yourselves!” Nami yells, her hand steaming from a fresh beating.

“Hello, I’m Robin.” The dark-haired woman smiles at you, gazing at the rack of freshly made weapons besides her. “Wow, you’re very talented.”

Disoriented from the bombard of stomping guests, it takes you a second to register her words.

“Oh…uh – thank you. I’m Koz—” You immediately halt, swearing intensely at yourself at the blunder you were about to make. “I’m Tenguyama Raya.”

In an instant, Robin’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she tries to compose herself.

Shit. Shit. Shit, you think. Did you accidentally ruin your cover just now?

“Nice to meet you,” the cyborg weakly interrupts, a robotic arm clutching at his swollen back. Nami hovers behind the two wounded crewmates, animalistically breathing against their necks. “I-I’m Franky.”

The damaged skeleton sweats anxiously, side-eyeing Nami who’s growling at him under her breath.

“I-I’m Brook.”

All of this sounds like some kind of joke: A cyborg and a skeleton walk into a shop…

“We heard you needed some extra hands,” Robin explains, crossing her forearms in the formation of an ‘X’.

Consecutively, an army of limbs sprout up from the ground like baby tree saplings, slowly taking shape as pale, wriggling hands.

“What the fuck?” You shout loudly, jumping away from a hand that crawls past your feet.

Robin laughs at your reaction. “I ate a—"

“Yeah, I can see that!” You excitably exclaim, crouching down to watch the assembly of hands picking up your scattered belongings. “This is so efficient for make-shift manufacturing assemblies! Not to mention the amount of work you could do at the same time…I’m envious…”

A skeletal hand slides in front of your eyes, making you yelp out loud and lose your footing.

“What the fuck?” You repeat again, arms fearfully flaring up with fire, about to kick whoever’s zombie-ass that was.

Brook yelps like you do, putting his hands in front of him.

“Ho-ho, I’m surprised I wasn’t the one who scared you first!” He flashes his teeth in a forced grin, making him look more constipated than friendly.

“I’m so sorry -- you took me off guard,” you stammer, frantically looking around at the crazy bunch of people who’ve entered your shop. You thought Luffy was too much too handle, but it seems like his whole crew is, too.

As you begin to stand, your eyes accidentally brush past the skeleton’s hip on your way up – wait, what is that? A purple cane? But… its makeshift tip looks similar to of a hilt…the grooves, the slight contour line that divides the top from the rest of its body…

You wildly point at the foreign object, the words not able to come out of your mouth.

Everyone looks down and gapes at what you’re gesturing at.

They gape up at you in bewilderment.

“What is that?” You finally demand, completely taken by this cane.

“Ah, this?” Brook points at his purple cane.

With a quick swish and twang, his bony fingers curl over the hilt and he unsheathes…. frankly, a masterpiece.

His glinting sword hums in the most harmonious, bone-chilling tone you’ve ever heard from a blade before as he proudly presents the sword to you.

“I call her the Soul Solid – my grooviest instrument yet.” Brook dramatically poses and flashes his cane-sword hybrid in the air.

“It’s…It’s…” You stutter, your eyes shining in admiration. “It’s a work of art.”

It’s so wacky and so groovy, and it harmonises with the wielder so perfectly, and you just love it.

“Hold on, you like that skeleton’s walking stick more than my blades?” The green-head marimo stomps over while growling, looking completely pissed off. “Just what type of swordsmith are you?”

You ignore him, bashfully moving closer to Brook with your palms stretched open.

“May I hold her?”

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Marimo yells, flaring his nostrils furiously.

“Of course…but…if only I could see your panties first, Miss?” Brook replies sweetly, fluttering his empty eye-sockets at you.

Crack! Rattle!

“Didn’t I make things clear enough before?!” Nami yells, karate-chopping Brook on his vulnerable skull.

“I-I’m sorry…” Brook whispers and hands you his sword, fading into the background of his crewmates. Chopper anxiously follows him with a carton of milk clutched in his hoof.

“Amazing craftsmanship! I wonder who made this, this handiwork doesn’t ring any bells…” You say more to yourself than to anyone in particular, observing the make of the metal and the customised grooves on the hilt. “She’s in perfect shape.”

“Cool. Whatever. Who cares. When are you going to remake mine?” The marimo hisses, making Nami hiss back at him like a cat.

Suddenly, you hear Robin gasp like she’s being choked. All of her helpful hands wilt and merge into the floor, smashing all of the items that were safely in their grasps.

“Robin! What are you doing?” Franky shouts, lunging forwards to catch a glass orb before it shatters from impact.

You swivel your head around to look at Robin, and almost immediately, anxiety consumes your chest like wildfire.

“Robin, are you okay?” Chopper exclaims, running towards her.

Robin’s eyes are consumed with shock, her mouth slightly open. She turns to you, a new hand blossoming in between where you two are standing.

The hand morphs and flutters out like branches on a tree, but instead of holding leaves, it's holding--

“How…do you have this?”

The glossy cube glints in her graceful grasp. Obsidian and violet in shade, the text is only half-way crafted across its surface.

It's your poneglyph.

Immediately, Gramps Suki draws out his blade.

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little-peril-stories · 2 months

Text

The Queen of Lies: Trust and Treachery

Story Intro | Content Warnings | Mood Board | Vibey Song Lyrics | Ao3

Contents: police, lady whump (sort of, ish, not exactly but ????), guy whump, guns (drawn but not fired)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 4100 || Approx reading time: 17 mins

Trust and Treachery

Teaser: “I’m serious. They’re still looking for her. Isn’t anyone going to talk about that? Or am I the only one who’s worried?”

The tales were told over endless cups of tea, as night fell and deepened to the blues and purples of midnight: Will’s time in prison, including details Bree herself had not heard and which made her eyes fill with tears; Bree’s side of the story, and how she had run away from Baden and taken Will with her; Colette’s summary of her time spent in a “safe place” about which she gave no further information; and Jamie Wardrew’s account of shutting down all Iustitia aecum operations and hiding out with the mostly silent other man, who was called Geoff. They had reunited with Colette once word got out that a thief had mysteriously escaped from prison—and posters with Will’s face on them appeared all over the city.

“You idiots should have skipped town fucking weeks ago,” Will said more than once, but there was no vehemence in his words. In fact, he was almost glowing. For most of the conversation, he twitched, bounced, and shifted in his seat, incapable of sitting still—except for his hand, which, despite how often he pulled it away to talk animatedly, always came back to rest upon Bree’s.

Now, his thumb stroked the back of her hand in a gentle, comforting rhythm. “You doing all right?” he murmured in her ear when the others were distracted.

Bree hummed a confirmation that she was, but exhaustion settled over her, brought on by the hours of talking and digging up of painful memories.

Oh—and the residual worries, of course, about when the inner circle of Iustitia aecum would come to their senses and throw her out. After all, what kind of woman would marry a man like Baden Hatchett? And how could she ever be trusted?

“You sure you’re okay?” Will asked.

“I’m just tired,” she told him, and he squeezed her hand.

“Don’t look so worried,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

But alongside the joy of the reunion, a heaviness clung to the air, and when she glanced at the others, she found that they would not meet her gaze.

***

The next morning, waking in a bed that seemed emptier and colder than it should have, Bree found that Will was not beside her. She could hear him, though—one of several voices that drifted in from the kitchen, hushed and serious.

Frowning, she sat up, trying to catch what was being whispered into the stillness of the early morning.

“Gotta decide what to…”

“If we start up again…”

Bree slipped out of the bed, stifling a gasp at the bite of the cold floor against her bare feet. At the door, which Will had left ajar—had he snuck out, trying not to wake her?—she paused, nudging it slightly to let in more sound.

“I’m serious. They’re still looking for her. Isn’t anyone going to talk about that? Or am I the only one who’s worried?”

Dread, barbed and brutal, tore through Bree’s chest. They weren’t merely talking about IA business. They were talking about her.

“Colette,” Will’s voice said stiffly, his earlier elation gone, “she doesn’t want to go b—”

“Stop twisting my words. I didn’t say she wants to go back. But if they find her, they find us. You can’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind, too.”

“Okay, fine, it did, but—”

Bree closed her eyes. Was that the reason he’d held out so long before giving his name? Fear that her very presence would lead Baden right to him—and that she would buckle under pressure and reveal his name to the entire constabulary? Destroy everything he’d suffered so keenly to conceal with a single witless utterance?

“I mean,” Colette went on, “does anyone else really believe that mad constable’s just going to give up? He’s insane.”

Silence met her words.

“I didn’t think so.” How could she sound so fearless? How could her words be so calm, so steeped in cool, unshakeable logic? “I think you’d all better listen to me about this. Because I get it, we all want to get back to normal, get back to business, but as long as she’s around—”

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made Bree jump. Furiously, Will snapped, “Don’t you even fucking think about saying what you’re about to say.”

“God, will you let me finish? I’m not arguing that we ditch her somewhere. She’s lovely. God knows how someone like her ended up with someone like him. And—just wait, for heaven’s sake! I’m not a monster. But we need a plan, and we need to make it now, because Hatchett wants you and her and as long as that’s true, we’re all in trouble.”

“She wouldn’t fuck us over like th—”

“Are you even listening? That’s not what I—”

Jamie’s quiet voice cut in. “Okay. Both of you. Shut up for a second.”

“Alpha, you know I’m right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will said, his voice acidic. Something warm flickered in Bree’s chest. Even with his brother speaking now, he was standing up for her. “We know. You’re always right. You’re so fucking smart—”

“Will!” Jamie snapped. “Shut the fuck up. Listen, for once.”

“You’re taking her side?”

“I’m not taking sides,” Jamie said tightly. “She—”

Too loudly—enough that if Bree hadn’t already been awake, she would have been jolted out of a dead sleep—Will said, “If you say she has to go, we’re about to have a big problem.”

“Just—”

“She has nowhere else to go,” he said. “Her parents are dead, too. And she can’t go back to Hatchett. She can’t. I’ll fucking die before I let that happen.”

Barely audible, some of the coldness faded from her voice, Colette said, “Oh, Will.”

Bree pressed her hands to her mouth, her heart trying to tear itself free of her very chest.

“And I—I—”

Neither his brother nor his friend interrupted, yet Will’s voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.

Geoff grunted, “You what?”

“I just can’t do that to her, all right?”

Did he mean it? Every word? He did, didn’t he? He wouldn’t let her go back to Baden, even if it meant going against the family he’d only just found again.

“Okay,” Jamie said. A mere breath after him, Colette said the same. “Okay. It’s not going to come to that. But let’s make a contingency plan, all right?”

Will mumbled, “The fuck is a contingency?”

“A just-in-case plan,” Colette said quietly.

“Just in case of what?”

Bree’s throat tightened again as Colette responded, “Just in case things go sideways. In case he catches up with her.” She paused. “With us.”

Jamie, from the sound of it, continued, but Bree silently pushed the door closed again and backed away on trembling legs. Her heart pounded as she went over the conversation—the argument—the inner circle of Iustitia aecum had just had about her.

For a few painful seconds, tears prickled behind her eyes. No matter where she went, she was never good enough. Breanna certainly hadn’t been. Now, it seemed that Bree was not, either—not for her own failings, but for the peril she brought in her wake.

No.

She swallowed her tears and took a breath. So Colette and Jamie were wary. Weren’t they right to be? But Colette had said it herself—it wasn’t Bree she didn’t trust. It was Baden.

But Will trusted her. Even if the others were reserving their confidence for now, he had faith in her. And he was willing to go against the others to prove it.

So, there was only one thing to do. She was going to have to prove it, too. That she belonged here. The she was one of them. That she deserved every ounce of that hard-won faith.

***

Of course, proving herself to IA was easier said than done. Bree opted not to mention what she had overheard, and Will didn’t bring it up, either. In this, she was almost relieved; he was spared the unenviable task of admitting that he’d been talking about her when he thought she couldn’t hear, and she was spared the indignity of facing everyone else’s mistrust head-on. No, she decided, it was much better to carry on as if she were none the wiser, and do what she could to weave herself into the delicate IA web.

Evenings, she determined promptly, provided ripe opportunity to find common ground with the others—particularly Colette and Jamie, who seemed to be the ones who had filled the bookshelves until they bowed in the middle. It was when the fire burned hottest and brightest; when everyone gathered without speaking of gangs or thievery; when she could read amid the soothing sound of crackling embers. The threadbare chairs did not provide nearly enough room for everyone to fit, but sitting on the floor with her book made Bree feel like a child again. Will, pressed against her side, didn’t seem to mind, either, and that made it all the sweeter.

Tonight, in a move that made everyone else’s jaws drop, Will was thumbing through Romeo and Juliet, which Bree had finished reading. He wasn’t reading it in earnest, however.

“The hell does this all mean?” he asked, cackling to himself. “You trying to tell me any of this makes sense to you?”

Bree blinked herself out of her current book and looked up to meet his amused gaze and unimpressed smirk. “It’s an old story. Once you know what to expect, it makes sense.”

But Will just shook his head, dictating lines he found perplexing or droll. “‘Such comfort as do lusty young men feel…’” He burst into a laugh and, reading on, found another that had him howling. “‘An open-arse, thou a poperin pear…’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You would find all the rude bits,” said Colette with a roll of her eyes.

“‘Some consequence,’” he went on, ignoring her save for a grin, “‘yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin…’ Well, he sure sounds happy, doesn’t he? ‘Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars…’ No one else thinks that’s a weird thing to want? No? Just me? All right. ‘I have an ill-divining soul…’” He scoffed and pushed it away. “Why can’t he just write like a normal person?”

Shaking her head, Colette asked wryly, “That’s your expert literary opinion, is it?”

“Pretty sure you’d find most reasonable people would agree with me.”

“I rather think you’d find,” she shot back, “that most intelligent people would not.”

Will snatched a cushion right out from behind Jamie’s back, eliciting a surprised yelp, and threw it at her head, howling with laughter when it struck its target squarely.

And grunting a loud, “Ow!” when she hurled it back at him.

“Leave her alone,” Bree said, laughing, laying a hand on his arm to prevent him from launching another attack. “Maybe you should try reading it. Who knows? You might end up liking it.” She paused. “Though it is very sad.”

“Right. It’d take me a month just to get through the first chapter.”

“It has acts and scenes,” Bree said, pointing to the heading on the page. “Not chapters.”

“See? I’m already hopeless.” But he didn’t look hopeless or even terribly annoyed as he closed the book and peeked over at Bree’s. “Can’t believe you finished it in a few days. What are you reading now?”

Bree showed him the cover, and Colette, peering at it, too, piped up again. “Oh, you found my Ovid.” She heaved a long, dramatic sigh. “It’s nice to have another intellectual around for once.”

Biting her lip, Bree tried not to look too satisfied with this remark.

Will brandished the cushion again, prompting his brother to take it out of his hands and return it to its previous place, supporting his back. With his physical ammunition confiscated, Will merely said, “You’re fucking hilarious, Colette.”

“I just finished the story of Orpheus and Eurydice,” Bree said to her, talking over him.

Geoff and Jamie had been watching in silence, the former quite apathetic toward the topic of fine literature and the latter baffled that Will was engaging with it at all. Now, his long-suffering-elder-brother expression changed from faint amusement to outright hilarity when Will demanded with a groan, “What the hell kind of names are those, now?”

Rubbing his face, Jamie answered, “It’s a myth, Will. Ancient Greek.” He looked over at Bree almost apologetically. “I really tried, you know. He used to sneak away instead of going to school. You think this guy ever did anything he was told?”

Throwing his brother an obscene gesture, Will just asked, “What’s it about?”

Bree was about to answer, but Colette said, utterly straight-faced, “It’s about an idiot who can’t follow simple instructions.”

The group burst into gleeful laughter, celebrating how Will had set himself up for the joke. Bree took his hand.

“No, it isn’t,” she told him. “It’s about how love is sometimes stronger than reason.”

With another vulgar gesture at the others, Will leaned toward her and laid a kiss right on her lips. Bree blushed, but there were no huffs of disapproval, suspicious glares, or scandalized gasps. Instead, teasing whoops spread through the room.

“You give her one of those bite marks in front of me, and I’ll smother you in your sleep,” Colette said primly as the titters faded, and Jamie choked on his tea.

“Oh, shut up,” Will said, and even though even his face flooded as red as Bree’s, he nearly fell to the floor with laughter.

Maybe, Bree thought with a smile, winning over Iustitia aecum wouldn’t be as difficult as she thought.

***

“You know, I’ve never seen him care about any of Colette’s books before.”

Bree jumped and stifled a squeak at the sudden voice behind her. She’d offered to fetch some water from the well, and she’d been quietly humming to herself—certainly not expecting anyone to overhear her less-than-impressive musical talents—so the appearance of Will’s brother was not one she was prepared for.

“Sorry,” Jamie said, smiling a little ruefully upon seeing that she was startled. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s all right.” She resisted the urge to press a hand against her pounding heart, figuring she already seemed jumpy enough to his eyes—jumpy, silly, and in over her head. “I didn’t hear you walking up.”

Jamie’s laugh, to her ears, was sardonic and abrupt—almost uncomfortable. “Well. We’ve had some practice in being stealthy over the years.” He nodded at her arm, free of bandages now but still marred by an unsightly scab she suspected might leave a scar. “You need some help?”

“Did Will send you?” she asked charily.

“No, actually.” He took the full bucket from her hand and replaced it with the empty one he had brought with him. “We can share the job. I’ll carry two back, you carry one.”

“Thank you,” she said, uncertain of where to go from there as she filled the last bucket. Was he going to be the one to confront her? Bring up Colette’s fears? Demand proof of her loyalty to the Iustitia aecum creed?

“Will didn’t send me after you,” Jamie said. “I wanted to say…” A strange look crossed his face—a happy one, but mixed with sadness, too, and perhaps even a touch of bemusement. “I’ve never heard Will…I don’t know, ask questions like that before. About books, I mean. Like he actually cared.”

A warm glow blossomed in Bree’s chest. “Really?”

“Definitely not.” He leaned against the side of the well, eyes fixed on the cloudy sky. “You know, I was… When we didn’t know what had happened to him, all I could do was hope we’d find him again. And I knew if we did, he might be different.” He laughed. “I didn’t think that this was the kind of different we’d be getting.”

Bree’s eyes burned with uninvited but admittedly gratified—and somewhat triumphant—tears. “Is that…” She swallowed. “That’s a good thing, right?”

He glanced at her now, seeming to notice the shine in her eyes, though he did not mention it. “I think so.”

Bree turned her face away for a moment to blink away the sting.

“You look familiar.”

Almost automatically, she said, “Well, maybe you saw me about town with Baden,” although now that he mentioned it, there was something about his face, hailing from a time long ago—more than just his striking resemblance to Will.

He clenched his jaw. “I can tell you for sure that I have never once been close enough to that fucker at any moment to see your face that well.” The flat hatred in his voice made a shiver run down her spine.

“Um…” Eager to move on from that thought, Bree said, “Perhaps before that? School, maybe?”

But he shook his head—the age difference was a bit too big, they determined, and he had likely already been working by the time she was in the schoolhouse, too poor for a governess.

“My maiden name is Cooper,” she said, thinking back and racking her brain for the answer, and as his expression changed to astonishment, the image struck her, too: a quiet boy with threadbare clothes, wind-chapped cheeks, and tired eyes—a boy she’d never seen again after a fateful winter’s day.

Or so she’d thought.

“James,” she gasped at the same time he said, “Cooper.”

“You worked for us!”

“Your dad’s a huge prick.”

Well, there was no denying that. “He was. He’s dead now.” She gazed at the man in front of her. Was it really him? The boy from that day?

The day her father had turned out all the servants, every single one—and one boy had fought back.

She hadn’t thought of him in years. It was painful to remember, those early days of her father’s broken business, his rage, his humiliation. That day in particular was one she preferred not to recall. All those people, thrown out in the bitter winter, hopeless and weeping and cold...

But a boy called James had tried so hard to stand up for them, shouting and railing, demanding some semblance of justice for the servants who were losing their livelihoods. As he always had, to everything and everyone, Silas Cooper had responded with violence—beat him and hurled him out, right into a snowdrift.

“He was horrible to you,” she whispered. “I’m—I’m so sorry—”

“You ran out,” he said, and she nodded. Bree had raced outside, determined to stay her father’s hand, and wound up with a handprint on her cheek. “I remember that. You…” He paused. “Thanks.”

Reeling at the revelation that her story and Will’s had been threaded together for so much longer than either of them had known, she pushed up her sleeves, close to sweating from exertion and awe. “I…I can’t believe it.”

“No,” Jamie said, equally stunned. “It’s a damn small world.”

They stared at one another a few moments more, Bree fitting his careworn face over the time-misted features of a sixteen-year-old boy with fire in his eyes—the same fire she had seen blazing in Will’s so many times before.

Suddenly, those eyes widened.

“Breanna?”

It took Bree a moment to realize that it was not Jamie calling to her—nor would that be the name he would use even if he was.

Gasping, Bree spun around, letting the bucket slip from her hands and spilling frigid water over her boots.

“Curt,” she whispered. The wonder of the moment, blazing hot and beautiful, vanished; every ounce of it sucked away, leaving nothing behind but cold, scouring dread.

He flew forward, so fast she only managed a panicked step backwards before he reached her. “It’s you.” Hands on her arms, pinching tightly. Eyes wide. Voice rasping. “God, Breanna—” Grip tight. Too tight. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Please let go,” she said, half-dizzy. Frantic thoughts spilled through her mind, melting into the noisy, discordant symphony of Curt’s voice, rapid hoofbeats, and distant thunder. No. This can’t be. “I’m…”

But he was talking, clinging tight, talking, talking, talking, gesturing to the officers behind him. “Quick! Go get…” Not happening. This couldn’t be real. But he was holding her hand, lifting it, examining the scab on her arm. “Breanna, what happened to you?”

“Nothing!” He can’t be here. She tried to wrench herself free. She had to get free. Where was he sending that other constable? “Curt, you’re hurting me.”

Where’s Will?

What if—

“Don’t move!”

Bree froze her struggles, but the order was not for her.

“Who are you?” Curt demanded, his eyes on Jamie. “Breanna, is he with—is he with them? Is he keeping you here against your will?”

“No!” Bree tried again to pull away. Still, he wouldn’t let go. Why wouldn’t he let her go? “Curt, leave him. Please. He didn’t—”

“You’re hurt.” Curt’s voice was dark, his gaze flicking between her arm and Jamie’s frozen form. “That miserable bastard hurt you. The one who got out.”

“No,” she said. “Listen, please, Curt, he didn’t. He didn’t. Let me go, and—and—leave him, Curt, please. Please—”

But Curt was only half-listening, it seemed; he was no longer even looking at her, and when he spoke, he merely repeated, “He didn’t let you go and leave.” With his gaze trained on Jamie’s, he stared, slow recognition leaching into his face. Realizing he had seen those features before. Realizing who else that ruddy hair and those strangely hued eyes belonged to.

Forming his own twisted narrative from the face he saw before him and the cry for help he thought he’d heard.

He cursed softly, and Bree cried his name, desperate for him to look anywhere but at Jamie’s face.

“What did they do to you?” he hissed.

“Nothing!”

“You’re lying to me,” said Curt furiously. “Again. After everything. Aren’t you? That bastard is here somewhere. I know he is. Who is that—his bloody twin?” Finally, he looked back at her. “Where is he?”

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t…

If she looked back at the townhouse, if she gave away the headquarters of Iustitia aecum, then it was all over—when it had barely even begun.

Don’t look back.

But she did.

She did, just in time to see a figure with red-brown hair fling open the door and start to run before a pair of brawny arms grabbed hold and yanked him out of sight.

Two furiously screamed names escaped before Will’s voice faded into strangled silence.

“Bree! Jamie! N—”

“That way,” Curt said, following her gaze. Following Will’s cry. One of his fellow constables hastened toward the townhouse, boots clicking maddeningly along the street.

And then he jerked his head toward Jamie and said, “Arrest him.”

Something shattered.

Perhaps it was the sound of Will’s voice being cut off. Perhaps it was the sight of that constable bolting toward the townhouse, all because her treacherous eyes could not do as they were told. Perhaps it was the cold fury in Curtis Lenton’s voice. Perhaps it was the way Jamie Wardrew did not move a muscle.

“No!” She thrashed against Curt’s grasp, and in his shock, he let go. “Curt, for the love of god, don’t do this, please!”

She made it three steps away from him before he captured her again.

“Why are you fighting me?” he asked as she pounded her fists against him. “Breanna—please! I’m here to help you! I’m going to get you away from these people!”

Tears, heavier and hotter and more painful than any she had ever shed in her life, blurred her vision. Her limbs trembled and, after a moment, gave out, for Curt did not listen. And he did not let go.

“Hey!”

All the officers froze.

“There’s no one there,” Jamie said. His words were calm. He had not run, and he still did not, even as the third officer approached him with his revolver drawn. But his arms, held in the air, trembled.

For one of them had the sleeve pulled up—baring the Iustitia aecum sigil for the constables to see.

“You’re too late,” Jamie said. “They’re already gone. You won’t find anyone else.”

Lies, Bree thought dizzily. A distraction to confuse them? Slow them down?

“Who are you?” Curt snarled again. “Where is the thief who escaped?” To the one he’d sent to the townhouse, he repeated the order to go, and the man obeyed.

“Forget him. He’s gone.” Jamie looked away from Curt’s glare to stare into the barrel of the other constable’s gun. His gaze met Bree’s for only an instant when the man reached him and wrenched his hands behind his back. “I’m the one who’s in charge of Iustitia aecum. I’m the one you want.”

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

@starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@clairelsonao3

@gala1981

@pleasestaywithmedarling

@kixngiggles

✨

#lps the queen of lies #whump #whump story #whump writing #original writing #original story #original content #lady whump #guy whump #romance #angst #tw police #tw guns

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look-into-abyss · 8 months

Text

I’ve been thinking about what an effect must Paul’s love have on Richard.

Imagine having a bad falling out with a friend you considered your other half. Maybe you’re both at fault but you take every criticism to heart, and you can’t help it. You feel like you’re nothing, like you’re worthless.

And that friend who understood you so well - he can’t stop criticizing. And you can’t stop arguing. Imagine how shitty you feel because of that. And since it’s partly your fault- well, even shittier. You didn’t even manage to keep your other half.

But then comes 2019, covid, 2022. And something happens, and that friend loves you. You kiss, and you hold hands, and he looks at you like you’re the sun.

And you’re used to young pretty girls paying you attention and showering you with love - you’re used to it because they see you as that cool rockstar. You’re not used to the person who criticizes you the most - who’s been criticizing you for decades - to love you the way he now does.

Imagine how absolutely elating that must feel. He oh-so perfectly knows all your faults, and your vices, and he’s been arguing with you for years - and yet, he loves you, and he chooses to love you. For who you are.

I understand why Richard’s now so attached to the Auslander outro. Why he can’t let it go and plays all the variations even alone. He seems to get attached to things that bring him comfort, like that clothing straight from 2005. His red cap, and that pink hoodie, and maybe even his cigarettes.

And just like that, he’s now attached to the outro. Because it brought him Paul.

#yes i made myself cry #twice #you can read it as friendly love #it works either way #paulchard #paul landers #richard kruspe

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chicken-fifi · 2 months

Text

Super Junior Reaction | A Younger Idol has a Crush on Them

Pairing: SuJu Members x Idol!Reader

Requested by anon: Hello! I was wondering if you could do a super junior reaction to a younger idol (of age, obviously) , saying that they are their celebrity crush on a variety show. If not that’s completely fine!

A/n: took me so much longer than expected to write this one as well. I have been slacking and i am not ashamed to admit that

Tunes: n/a

Leeteuk:

I don’t wanna say Jeongsoo feels a sense of pride

But there is a smidge of it present???

I mean, he’s prideful in a sense that he’s glad younger people find him attractive

And to be someone’s celebrity crush?

Bonus points

Especially since you’re in the same field

He’ll be playful about it, but also shy if he’s around you

“I heard a rumor that I’m your celebrity crush…”

Heechul:

Externally: kinda cocky but shy

Internally: freaking out

For Heechul there is no in between

The second he finds out about this

He almost doesn’t believe it

Almost

A part of him does

But dear god it’s stranger to get the personal confirmation

“So it is true…I’m your celebrity crush?”

Yesung:

Jonghoon really doesn’t believe it

Someone must be playing a prank on him, waiting to tease him about how excited he must be about this

But no one’s playing a prank on him

He really is your celebrity crush

And now he’s shy as hell whenever you cross paths

Because he finds you just as attractive

Silent pinning much?

“Stop trying to trick me! There’s no way that’s true!”

Shindong:

Just like Yesung, Donhee initially thinks it’s a prank

But he quickly realizes that it’s not

He’s honestly happy to hear that he is your celebrity crush

It’s not everyday that that happens

He tries to be extra attentive to you as a senior in the industry

But only in that way

You are quite younger after all

“There’s a cafe nearby that has really hearty meals. You should go there sometime.”

Eunhyuk:

Cocky S.O.B

Hyukjae is going to ride this out for as long as he can

He’ll use this one thing to win argument against everyone

After all, who else can say that they’re your celebrity crush

You

The IT GIRL OF THE GENERATION

I mean come one

How is he not going to be elated by this

“Unlike you, I’m someone’s celebrity crush.”

Siwon:

Quite amused by it actually

In Siwon’s case, your celebrity crush on him stems from his acting roles

(Adding a spin here!)

To have a fellow idol comment on that in such a positive manner

(obviously leading to your crush)

Is something he never thought he would experience

And now that he has, he doesn’t want it to end

He’s very polite and caring of you and your group whenever possible

“I watched the comeback recently. You all did a phenomenal job!”

Donghae:

So shy

But like a constantly laughing shy

Donghae quite literally laughs whenever it’s brought up

He thinks it’s so cute

(you’re so cute!)

And he’s honestly flattered by it

Who wouldn’t be?

(Might have a crush on you himself, if your a bit older)

“I can’t talk about it without smiling!”

Ryeowook:

Shy and cocky

Ryeowook uses this to his benefit against the guys

But he’s also very shy about it

Who wouldn’t be?

I mean how can he not be shy when a new and upcoming idol said he’s their celebrity crush

He get flustered when people bring it up before firing off

He can’t meet your gaze in public but he does do small things to show how much it means to him

“Shut up already! At least I’m likable, unlike you!”

Kyuhyun:

Also quite shy reserved about the matter

Kyuhyun can’t quite put into words the feelings that he has upon hearing this

He’s moved but also prideful

And has he also liked you too?

So much going on in that head of his

But he refuses to speak about it

It’s no one’s business but his and yours

He’s very nice to you though

Even if he gets teased for it

“Say what you want. I don’t care.”

#kpop #kpop reactions #super junior #super junior masterlist #super junior reactions #leeteuk #heechul #yesung #shindong #eunhyuk #siwon #donghae #ryeowook #kyuhyun

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heavenlyakin · 1 year

Text

you bring me home - nagi seishiro x fem!reader

WC: 801 | Warnings: barely edited/proofed, college au, fem reader, established friendships, friends to lovers trope, use of “angel” as a pet name. Sfw all around. MINORS DNI

Description: The moment Nagi Seishiro realizes he’s been in love with you for years, without noticing it.

A/n: I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to @seraphofthesimps for the idea!

The familiar white hair is impossible to miss when you walk into the dining hall. You can’t help the smile that creeps up on your cheeks and the heat that rushes to your cheeks. Of course, beside Seishiro is his best friend, Reo talking in his ear over their lunch trays. The lunch bag in your hand suddenly feels heavier, the weight of the two lunches you packed.

He’s been complaining about the dining hall lunches for a week now, just unhappy with the selection and missing home-cooked food. In the few years, you’ve known him, since middle school, you’ve always picked up on little things he’s said and tried to accommodate. Not to the extent that Reo has, but little things.

It was a given that when Seishiro started complaining about the food, you asked a friend with an apartment and kitchen if you could start using it to meal prep. He mentioned liking lemon tea once and for the remainder of high school, you always ensured your mom kept it in your cabinets for when he came over to study with you. You always traded with other classmates to make sure he was who you got to buy for Secret Santa at Christmas, knowing no one else, even Reo, would be able to get him a gift he truly liked.

So when he decided he would attend the same university as you, mostly because Reo argued it had the best soccer program of all his offers, you were elated. It was a shot in the dark that you’d get in, but you did and you were able to keep your two best friends with you.

“Sei, Reo,” you greet them, sitting across from them. Sei smiles at you and then goes back to pushing some peas around his tray.

“Whatcha got there?” Reo grabs for your bag and you pull it away quickly.

“Nothing for you!” You stick your tongue out at him. “Sei, I brought you a treat!”

You open the bag, pulling out a thermos with his favorite tea and a bento box full of his favorite foods.”

“No way, really?” He looks up, his gray eyes shining. “You’re the best, —--.”

Your cheeks heat up again and you smile, looking away.

“God, it’s like I’m not even here,” Reo complains, sighing and shoving a spoonful of peas in his mouth.

“Shut up, Reo.” You glare at him, cheeks still hot. “You’re just jealous you have a shitty lunch while Sei and I have my home-cooked meal.”

“Yeah, clearly,” something crosses Reo’s face, and he smiles deviously. “I would be jealous if I had a pretty girl fawning over me for years too.”

“Reo.” You nearly hiss his name, looking to see if Sei hasn’t been listening, or at least you think he’s not.

“What?” He smiles, leaning forward, closer to you. “Embarrassed?”

Hurt by Reo’s comments, you pack up your bag and leave the table. Reo has known how you felt about Sei for years, you had confessed it to him one night when you Sei, and Reo snuck alcohol upstairs to Reo’s room and got wasted for the first time. Sei had fallen asleep and in your drunken stupor, you admitted your feelings for your best friend.

Until now he has always respected the secret and kept it between the two of you. Whatever is up his ass today has clearly set him off and in turn hurt you.

“Hey, wait!” The familiar soothing voice grabs your attention just as Sei places his hand on your shoulder, stopping you from walking out the dining hall doors.

“Sorry, Sei, I just have to run off to a class I forgot I signed up for,” the lie rolls off your tongue, but you have to hold back the tears. Luckily, he hasn’t stepped in front of you to see that you’re welling up.

Shrugging off his hand from your shoulder, you walk out the dining hall doors and into the empty hallway.

“Wait! I have something to say!” Sei follows you and grabs your hand, moving to step in front of you quicker than you can walk away from him. “No, please don’t cry,” his hands reach for your face, taking your cheeks in his palms. He wipes the stray tear off your cheek with his thumb.

“Sorry, I’m just-”

“I’ve been so blind, angel,” Sei whispers, calling you angel for the first time in your life.

“Sei,” you whisper, eyes welling more.

He leans down, kissing you and pulling you closer to him. His lips are softer than you imagined, and he tastes divine. You grab his shirt, pulling him as close as you can as you kiss him back, your lips finally moving against his.

“You’ve always been the one, I’ve just been so so blind.”

#bluelock fluff #nagi seishiro fluff #seishiro nagi fluff #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader

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k-dokja · 2 years

Note

Hi so I'm here to request a scenario for fic for Taehun. Him trying to win back his ex. Maybe he thought he fell out of love with her and he realises he was wrong and now he is trying to win her back. You can put the setting in high school or not it's up to you. Thanks in advance

summary: he was never good at complicated calculations.

settings: broken up + reader has been dating him since high school + open ending.

author’s note: it has been two months since i last wrote for him. i don’t know who he is anymore.

ah, to begin with, it was his misstep.

“let’s end this.”

“end what?”

“us.”

“…why?”

it was the distance, taehoon rationalized. between your schedules and your plans and your future, maybe he was an obstacle in it all. to begin with, there was no happy ending to this mismatch. it was his fault for thinking that someone like you would be happy with someone like him. well, he was young (younger), and nobody could blame him for wistful thinking.

at least, he could stop before it was too late.

“i’m bored.”

it was not honest but at least it aligned with his character. when had he ever been someone better? crude, apathetic, cruel. he has had years to cultivate this image. and if you thought worse of him for it, then fine. at least, you won’t have anything to regret.

“…you mean it?”

“yeah.”

“…okay.”

he should have been elated that you were accepting of his decision. yet, his throat dried and his eyes blurred. but when his regret had the chance to sink in, you were no longer there by his side. taehoon had known it was a mistake soon after the words passed his lips, yet his pride would not let it be otherwise.

time passes after that. the slow crawl of everyday mundane loses any form or shape without you around. his friends prod him about it. once. after his prolonged silence and subsequent departure, the topic of you is never brought up again. it is strange how you were once among his loved ones and now what is left of it can’t even talk of you in his presence.

your support back then has inspired him to go back to competitive martial arts. but without you, he clings to it like a lifeline. training takes up much of his time after graduation, alternating between practising at the dojang and sparring at different gyms. then comes the dip in between, where his thinking is kept to the minimum while he goes on with his days. he never tries to move on.

it’d be easy, if he wants, to have a rebound. but the thought is fruitless because those would be the energy he wasted. better to keep his mind somewhere more productive. he never entertains it, and he never lets anyone in. the misery of his own making leaves him drowning in prayers that one day he will come to terms with his mistake.

he looks up your profile sometimes. a habit that goes bad as time drags on. you never bother to block or delete him and he never uses social media enough to care. later on, when he thinks about that, it stings worse this way. when you’ve decided to let him stay in your life, he has understood your implication. gone were the years you spent with each other. now, he’s too insignificant for you to care and maybe he deserves it.

a heartless treatment for a heartless one.

after your update begins to pop up from oversea, taehoon knows he has no more chances. he makes peace, (tries to) forget about you, and maybe prays that one day he will move on. it is not easy, not in hindsight. a day becomes a week, a week becomes a month, and then a month blurs into a year.

one morning he wakes up, taehoon no longer remembers your face.

only fragments of memories patching into the image of you. he knows your favourite flavour, your favourite food, your favourite stores, yet your voice is nothing but a distant past. his hand itches for him to pick up his phone and refresh his mind. but he resists it, this would be for the best.

he doesn't have time to wallow over it, anyway.

aside from training, he has other plans for once. something about the company's celebration of another milestone for followers, but he doesn't remember the details. only the place and the time stick, that's enough for him. by the time it arrives, he has succeeded in putting you at the back of his mind.

there are days when the thoughts of you are intrusive, like a phantom whisper haunting him. the others are better when he's too busy to worry about his wrongdoing.

today is one of the worse days. he hopes the dinner with the company would improve it, at least. it has been a while since all of them gathered like this. even if only for a while, it helps. thinking about those around him makes him think of his own problems less.

he reaches the restaurant after training and showering. hours of exertion and his subsequent wash clear his mind. he's far more refreshed than ever in clean clothes and hair slightly damp.

hobin's face is the one he spotted before everyone. even among the clutter of friends, the dude has a way of standing out. it's not even his charisma or anything, it's simply his weirdly awkward energy. on the head of the table near him is bomi, who attaches to the group because of hobin more than anything.

to hobin's other side is snapper, then gaeul. those two have continued to be clumsy around each other after the blond finally decided to confess last spring.

then opposite to them, a familiar head of pink trademarked to han gyeol takes up a seat next to her brother, while the other is parked by yeo rumi. hwang mangi occupies the other end of the table with his girlfriend. the girl's name escapes taehoon.

but it doesn't matter. they won't talk anyway.

seeing the entire crew here eases the weight in him a little. he has been a little distant from them after you left, but everyone continues to keep in touch in the group chat. he has never been good at keeping up-to-date with it, but when something matters, they always alert him anyway. else he wouldn't have known about the gathering.

he begins to approach the crew, but then something catches his eye. to the right of yeo rumi, there sits another person. it wouldn't have been a problem, has he not been too familiar with that frame. the hair is longer, softer, and accented in another colour. the clothes are different, he doesn't remember you own those.

it has been over a year, what does he know?

maybe his eyes are tricking him, he can't tell. taehoon pushes the thought down and walks towards them. he keeps his face impassive, he wouldn't be able to push down his emotions otherwise.

"ah, there's taehoon!"

it's hobin who notices him before everyone else, being the one who faces the door. he waves at taehoon, who returns his acknowledgement with a nod.

everyone greets him with a variation of "hey" and "how's it going?" except for han gyeol who berates his lateness. he smoothly ignores her, reaching the only empty seat in a hurried step.

it's one where he sits opposite you, the one who has yet to celebrate his arrival.

you smile when you meet his eyes. it's halfhearted and awkward, like treading on the thin ice of a river you've swum in for years. "hey," you say, "it's been a while."

it's neutral and reserved. he feels awkward all of a sudden. "yeah," he echoes your sentiment. not knowing what word to continue.

thankfully, yeo rumi catches the hint and slots into your conversation. "she just came back for holidays, so i asked her to join us at the last minute," she says, "we're all friends here, after all."

"uh huh," taehoon says, unconvinced.

rumi puts her hands on your shoulder. if taehoon doesn't know any better, he would've assumed she was trying to keep you from running away. "isn't it great that the whole gang is back this time? all of us have been so busy since we graduated high school."

"not me," gaeul pouts, "gyeol is in her last year, too."

"have you gotten any plans yet?" rumi turns her attention to the younger girl, leaving taehoon alone with you again. neither of you speaks. there is only a table between the two of you yet the distance is wider than anything he can perceive.

he half-contemplates leaving. at least, it wouldn't be awkward for you, this way. "i—"

"oh my god," mangi cuts in between the two of you, taehoon has almost forgotten he was sitting there, "this is too much."

when both of you glance up at him in confusion, mangi turns to his girlfriend, saying nothing and then nodding in your direction. she beams brightly and stands up. the confusion lasts for another moment until it becomes clear what has happened.

while the two of you (by extension, the entire table) were gaping at mangi's antics, you somehow got shuffled next to taehoon. it's not exactly sitting next to each other. not in the way yeo rumi happily sticks to han wangguk, or the way snapper tries his best to not accidentally touch gaeul.

there is a distance between the two of you, enough to put a wall in it, but also enough for him to touch you with a reach of his hand. "idiots," taehoon mumbles, "doing unnecessary things again."

"sorry," you smile sadly, "you must feel awkward with me here."

yeah, you'd assume that. he was the one pushing you away, after all. who would even want to see the person they willingly push away? (he would) that's silly and stupid.

"do you?"

"what?"

"feel awkward with me here."

you stay in contemplation for a moment. the smile you force on fades, replaced by a bitten lower lip. "i don't know," you sigh, "this feels... unnatural. like... we shouldn't be like this, but i don't know what to do about it."

"fucking yeo rumi," taehoon grumbles, "why did you agree to come? you knew i would be here."

"i did," you say, "but i wanted to meet everyone else, too. it didn't seem fair to leave you out."

he would understand it. he wouldn't want you to be left out either, but he was the one who dumped you. you were the one to decide whether you want him in your life or not. in the end, taehoon only shrugs, "it would be easier on you," he says, "you wouldn't have to deal with me."

"i don't mind," you smile, "we were friends before everything else, i wouldn't mind being friends again."

it feels awful to hear that. he doesn't want to be friends. he took forever to stop being friends with you and become something more intimate. and now you want him to go back to that uncomfortable distance again, he'd rather be strangers.

but he can't even be a stranger to you. because that'd mean he can get the chance to know you from the scratch, to learn everything about you without prior knowledge, to do better than whatever he has done before. yet, what was done is already done. he can never have another beginning with you.

just a detached distance between the two people who were once dear.

"taehoon?"

"yeah?" he says.

"you spaced out."

he stares at you again. in your eyes, he sees no malice, no hatred, no justified rage. only the confusion of someone who does not know what to make of the situation. "you're right," he says, "we shouldn't be like this."

"i often am, but what makes you think so?"

"we should talk about it," he replies, "but not here. later, alone. i want to be honest with you."

what will he say? he did something stupid and ruined a good thing. you were a saint for not yelling at him for it. but you accepted it so easily, it stings. maybe there was never a chance for anything, maybe he has agonized for nothing.

but he should talk about it with you because he never did back then. the story of you and him ends with a comma, not a period. he should make things right with you, even if he can't salvage anything.

"...all right," you say, "after this?"

he nods, chest suddenly a light from a weight he hasn't known was there the whole time. it's strange. he starts the day not wanting to think about you, yet now you are all that he thinks about. “yeah…”

#seong taehoon #seong taehoon x reader #viral hit #how to fight #fics

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thepublishingpress · 6 months

Text

A Second Chance

Pakku was born a prodigy.

When he was born in the dead of winter during the full moon, he let loose scream so loud the glaciers cracked, and the sea’s waves grew to an impossible size. That’s when they, his tribe, knew.

He would be one of the most powerful waterbenders of all.

~*~

He is training when he sees her. She is watching him with a certain emotion in her eyes. He cannot place it. Envy, perhaps, with a little awe. Pakku sees determination in her bright blue eyes as she watches him. She makes little motions with her hands, clearly trying to imitate them. Then frowns at her hands, seemingly frustrated.

She is a non-bender, He realizes. That is why she is upset. He is so distracted by her he does not see the snow rushing towards him till it smacks him in the face. He sputters, spitting out snow. His friends laugh, and he sees the girl smile faintly, the envy disappearing. As his friends haul him up, he asks them a question.

“Who is she?”

They stare at him in confusion. “Who’s who?”

“The girl,” Was his reply. He chin points to her as discreetly as possible. That is to say, with no discretion at all. “Over there. What’s her name?”

“Kanna,” They answer.

Kanna.

He likes her name. Kanna. Simple to pronounce, and he thinks it suit her perfectly. Beautiful, is one of its meanings. Beautiful, just like her. He repeats it to himself. He tells himself that he likes Kanna.

He thinks he’s in love.

(And he is.)

~*~

Pakku eventually tells his parents of the girl, after he approaches her and begins to know her. He chatters on, talking on and on about her, and he knows he’s rambling, but he can’t help it. He really, really likes Kanna.

He finally stops when he notices his family staring at him.

Staring and staring.

His father breaks the silence.

“Son,” He says, “Do you know how old you are?”

Pakku frowns, confused. “Of course I know, Father,” He answers.

“Then you understand that you are now of marrying age.” His father says.

Pakku nods slowly. “Yes…?”

“And I understand that you like this Kanna very much,” Father continues, “And that she is also of age and, most importantly, she has status.”

“Yes, Father, that much is true,” Pakku replies, though he is slightly irritated. Kanna’s status is not her only defining trait, though it is the most important. Did his father not hear his ramblings for the past 10 minutes?

His father’s smile turns into a slight grin. “Son, do you not understand?” He teases slightly, “Because she has status, we have arranged a marriage with you and her before you spoke to us of her. She will bring our family honor.”

Pakku is elated.

~*~

As soon as he’s done eating, he rushes out to inform Kanna. He’s running so fast, he collides with her.

“Pakku!” Kanna complains.

He simply beams at her. “Sorry!”

She tilts her head, pursing her lips at how giddy he is. “Something happened,” She decides. “What is it?”

He opens his mouth, prepared to say the news, but stops short. Something tells him not to, and he thinks it’s because he wants to surprise Kanna. “We’re- Um, I learned new waterbending tricks!” He lies, “Want to see?”

She nods, and he desperately tries to make up something, and it works. She likes it, the smooth motion of the water, and her eyes widen with amazement at the ice sculpture. She laughs when it crashes on him, making his wet all over.

His heart fills with warmth and love when she laughs.

Tui and La, he’s lovesick, isn’t he?

~*~

One day, in a secluded place, Kanna asks him for a scandalous favor.

“Will you teach my friend Sedna how to fight?”

When he hears those words, he’s shocked. “Kanna,” He says, “that cannot be done.”

She becomes angry. “And why, Pakku, is that?” She demands.

“Because she is a girl and that would go against tradition, Kanna, and you know that!” Pakku exclaims, shocked and angry she would even think about defiling their ways.

“Tradition, tradition!” She shouts back, and Pakku understands why she brought him here. It was not for the secret kiss that he’d hoped for. “This tradition of not teaching girls how to fight, how to use waterbending for nothing but healing, is stupid! We can do the same things you boys can, Pakku!”

Pakku is speechless. When he does not respond, Kanna turns away from him, but not before he saw a tear slip down her cheek.

“I thought you were different, Pakku,” She says, voice cracking, ”I thought you would understand. But now I see you’re no different from those pompous fools.”

Before Pakku could say anything, she ran away.

~*~

That was their falling out.

They no longer spoke to each other after that. Pakku still loved her, though.

He just didn’t know how to let go.

He had hopes that Kanna would soon see reason, and they would be friends again, and when they married they would have a happy life together.

Oh, what a fool he was.

He learns the news when the wedding was three days away.

Yagoda runs up to him, panting. “What happened?” Pakku asks her.

She purses her lips. “Kanna… Kanna has run away.”

Pakku’s heart became cracked and shattered.

~*~

After that, he swore to himself that he would never teach a woman. It was because of tradition, before. Now? It was personal.

He leaves the Northern Water Tribe in search of some place rid his mind of the awful memories he had.

He travels, and reaches the Earth Kingdom.

That’s where he met them.

The Order of the White Lotus. His friends:

The Crazy King of Omashu, Bumi.

The Deserter Jeong-Jeong.

The Sword Master Piandao.

And, later, General Iroh, Dragon of the West.

~*~

He returns back home. Years pass, the Avatar and his friends arrive, just in time for Princess Yue’s coming of age.

The Avatar wants Pakku to teach the boy and his other friend– which Pakku assumes to be the Sister Tribe boy– and Pakku agrees.

When, however, the airbender brings the girl, Pakku refuses.

“It is against tradition,” He insists, “I will teach only you, Avatar.”

The girls looks furious. It reminds him, painfully, of Kanna. Reluctantly, the nomad agrees.

~*~

He did not teach the Avatar for long. He catches the boy attempting to teach the girl how to use waterbending for fighting. Pakku bans the airbender from going to his lessons.

Soon after, the girl has the audacity to challenge him to a waterbending battle.

He agrees.

~*~

She… puts up a good fight, he must admit. But he is better.

He is winning, she is losing.

But then he sees that necklace.

And it hits him.

That’s… That’s the one I made…

He shatters the ice immediately and picks up the necklace. The Sister Tribe girl is screaming at him, demanding that he give it back to her because the necklace belongs to her.

“This… I… I made this for Kanna.” He whispers, ignoring the shocked gasps of the crowd.

“You… You were supposed to marry my Gran-Gran?” The waterbender asks, completely taken aback.

“I loved Kanna,” He says quietly, voice quivering.

“But she didn’t love you.”

The words sting, they always do, but they aren’t anything he hasn’t told himself.

~*~

The Siege comes.

They come.

With an absolute madman manning the helm.

Pakku and his students try to keep the Fire Nation back, and they have the full moon as their advantage.

Said advantage doesn’t last.

The moon… goes dark. They cannot bend.

Pakku dreads what this means.

The moon is dead.

The firebenders, those stupid ash makers, are elated. They grin, taunt them, and this time their enemies are winning, and they’re losing, losing, and losing–

But the Avatar and La, however, have different plans.

Their attack comes in the form of a giant sea monster, the Avatar acting as its heart, and La commands reverence. Pakku and his benders bow in awe and the firebenders are swept into the sea.

~*~

After the Siege of the North, as people are calling it, his tribe holds a funeral for the brave Princess Yue and all their losses. Her father, Chief Arnook, says a speech.

“Princess Yue, my daughter, though we hold a funeral for you, we know that you are alive in the skies and in the stars as the moon we honor. I am proud of you, my daughter, I am.”

Funeral rites are completed and he goes to see Kanna’s grandchildren. He tells them and the Avatar goodbye and gives them gifts- well, the girl and the nomad, anyway. He didn’t know what to give to the waterbender’s brother.

He turns away from them, and sighs. He is going to the Southern Water Tribe.

He is going to Kanna.

~*~

Pakku is absolutely shocked.

This village is so, so small, Pakku thinks as he looks around. The village isn’t even a tenth of the Northern Water Tribe. Is this what we let happen to our Sister Tribe?

Yes, the answer comes, yes.

He is shook out of his guilty daze when he sees her coming.

She has been wrinkled with age, yes, but he stills sees that determined look in her eyes, that flame that had never gone out. Not once.

She regards him warily, eyebrows raised. “So,” She says, “you’re here.”

He nods a bit, clears his throat. “Yes.”

She glances back, and he sees the children and their mothers– where are the men? – huddled together, fear in their expressions.

“Well,” She says, “welcome to my tribe, Pakku.”

~*~

It is nighttime, and Pakku is standing in the middle of the village. Everyone is asleep, except for him, of course. He stares up at the moon.

“You’re still awake?”

He flinches, slipping on the snow, and falling. He turns his head and sees that it’s Kanna. She’s watching him, smiling faintly, like that training session so long ago.

“Um,” He says dumbly, “Yes?”

She laughs, a little, and there’s that warmth again that he quickly tries to stamp out. She probably still hates you, he thinks, stop it.

She frowns at him. “There is something on your mind,” She says. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Pakku blurts out, and it is what’s on his mind. Kanna blinks.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeats. Better to apologize now than never. “I-I’m sorry, so sorry, that I didn’t help you, that I didn’t support you, and I see that you were right and I was wrong.” Pakku inhales deeply, trying to hold in the tears. “Kanna… After you left I was heartbroken. I-I honestly thought we would be happy together. I loved you Kanna.” He lowers his head. “Maybe I still do.”

“Oh, Pakku,” Kanna whispers, surging forward and embracing him, “I’ve forgiven you.”

“What?”

“I know you’ve changed,” She says, “You’ve trained my granddaughter! The old Pakku would never do that.”

She looked up and smiled. Pakku returned it.

~*~

Days passed.

And in those days, Kanna and Pakku slowly rebuilt their relationship. Pakku made another necklace for her. A more intricate wave than the one he made before.

And Kanna accepts.

Pakku is overjoyed.

~*~

He has to leave the Southern Water Tribe.

A messenger hawk comes and the message it bears it curt.

Come to Ba Sing Se.

Who sent it? They didn’t write it, but the single White Lotus tile is enough for him to know.

He says good-bye to Kanna, and travels to the Earth Kingdom.

It is time to give back Ba Sing Se.

~*~

Before they saved it, though, the Avatar’s group arrived. There had apparently been three more members added to the group. One of them the Crown Pince of the Fire Nation. Pakku greets his grandchildren, Katara and Sokka, who were completely delighted to learn of his engagement to Kanna.

The children went to talk with Iroh (which he most definitely did not eavesdrop on!), and eventually split up, each group going to complete their own mission.

Pakku turns and stares at the broken walls of Ba Sing Se.

“It is almost time,” He says, and his friends nod.

~*~

Ba Sing Se was returned to the Earth Kingdom.

The war, after a hundred years, was over.

Pakku was prepared to return home.

This time, he knew, that his wish for a happy life with Kanna would come true.

_________________________________

hiii i finished it!!! hope it meets your expectations HAHAHA

this also turned out way longer than i meant it to be oops

#pakku #atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #kanna #katara #aang #sokka #prince zuko #fanfic #fanfiction #yay a post #atla fanfiction #avatar the last airbender fanfiction

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razorblade180 · 1 year

Text

Familiar Waters

Aether:Hey Nilou, are you busy today?

Nilou:Actually your timing couldn’t have been better. No performances today so the stage can have maintenance. Is something wrong?

Aether:No. there’s just this place I really want to show you. I think besides a handful other people I know, you’re someone who really deserves to see this.

Nilou:Wow. When you put it like that, how can I say no? Not that I was planning to. *grabs his hand* Lead the way.

Aether:You’re going to be holding my hand for long time. It’s kinda far.

Nilou:*smiles* Even better.

xxxxx

Boy, Aether wasn’t kidding about distance. Nilou wasn’t expecting him to take her into the desert. Not that it was a problem. She’s made the trip countless times and knew how to take care of herself. If there was any place to be a hydro user, then the desert had to be the best one. Warding off the heat for the both them was easy.

She didn’t need to do it long before they went inside ruins a couple times then out from new ways. Each time she wondered if they had arrived, yet Aether didn’t seem too interested in the beauties of the old paintings and landscapes.

Nilou:Been here before?

Aether:Yeah. There were a lot more robots. Also traps.

Nilou:You really do live a colorful life. Don’t work too hard. Is the place we’re going also dangerous?

Aether:It’s actually one of the most peaceful places I’ve ever seen.

They make it to what should be the heart of the desert. Whirling sandstorms and its wind keeps Nilou’s attention from noticing the platform under their feet is moving down. It eventually stopped and they continued through a cave.

Nilou:Huh? Oh! Y’know I’m fairly familiar with lots of local legends, stories, and Sumeru’s general history. Even so, I don’t think I realized how much technology was in the desert.

Aether:I don’t even think half the scholars really know. I wouldn’t know anything if it weren’t for the people I meet on commissions. It’s a little scary honestly.

Nilou:The people of the commissions?

Aether:Both? Most of the time they’re looking for one thing and we end discovering lots of things. Most of them are very…daunting.

Nilou:If that’s the case, are you sure spending your downtime like this is good? You could be resting.

Aether:I’m alright. You were okay spending your day off to humor me. Now I think I kept you waiting long enough.

He let go of her hand and took off running. It caught Nilou off guard but she quickly ran after him, only a few steps behind.

After one more turn they were out of the cave. Instantly, Nilou stopped moving. The dancer’s eyes became unblinking as they stared out towards an endless sunset. Lush grass covered the area and surrounded a still, unmoving body of water. Nilou couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It was as if she had entered a living photo. The entire world was still, yet so brimming with life. What stilled her heart further was the sight of a certain purple flower on a small island right in the middle.

Nilou:What is this place?

Aether: The Orchard of Pairidaeza. Had to help a friend get here to fulfill a promise. *sits down* Still takes my breath away. This place is a memorial for-

He didn’t have to finish. Or rather, he was silenced by the sight of Nilou’s tears. The girl was caught off guard by her own reaction, awkwardly laughing as she tried to wipe her face, but Nilou couldn’t get herself to stop crying for some reason. Never has heart felt so elated yet mournful. The beauty of this place was overwhelming and so very personal in a way she couldn’t describe.

Aether watched quietly. He had a feeling this might happen to the gentle soul. Even Nahida had found herself weeping the first time he brought her here.

Nilou:I’m…I’m sorry. I- I can’t crying for some reason?

Aether:Take your time. Feel whatever you feel.

xxxxx

Nilou:*sniffling* I’m sorry I cried for long…

Aether:I’m telling you it’s okay. Honestly it would be strange not to cry here.

Nilou:Are you sure it’s okay for someone like me to know about this place? I mean this is a big deal.

Aether:*pats head* Nilou, I think out of everyone I’ve met should know this place. I’m sure Nahida and the Goddess of Flowers would think the same. If you ever need a place to get away from it all, I know you’ll do right if you come here.

Nilou nodded softly, trying to compose herself. She walked further into the beautiful area that was right out of a dream. It didn’t take long before she realized it was possible to walk on the water. She looked back at Aether, who spurred her on to keep going. Nilou followed her heart and went all the way to the tiny island where three seats made of wood and covered in genuine Padisarah. Nilou didn’t dare to sit on any throne or pick any plant. Instead she stood before them ready to perform. Somehow, deep down, dancing didn’t only feel right, but important. Not to Goddess she idolized so much, but to the two thrones on each side. Nilou couldn’t say for certain who they were meant for, but she wanted to pay tribute to them all the same.

Aether watched in silence for afar, witnessing a once in a lifetime performance. He would be sure to tell Nahida about it, if she didn’t know already somehow. Perhaps her and Nilou would visit together one day? As for the third seat, maybe he could convince their successor if he ever gets the chance.

xxxxx

Time really escaped the both of them. What was a bright morning was a cool night as they walked the path to Sumeru City in relative silence. Aether could tell Nilou was still basking in the experience. If that wasn’t enough to tell notice her joy, then the giveaway was their hands. He had tried to grab it like he always does, but Nilou surprised him when she she interlocked their fingers, swinging the joined hands slightly. It was sweet, but also really embarrassing for him.

Nilou:Three

Aether:Hmm?

Nilou:This is the third time you’ve done something that’s allowed me to give a performance completely out of this world.

Aether:I remember the dream loop, but what was the second?

Nilou:The jail break for Lesser Lord Kusanali.

Aether:…I guess that was pretty out of this world. Man, maybe I do need a break? That almost felt normal.

Nilou:Well…I’m also free tomorrow. Do you have anything in the morning to do?

Aether:Not necessarily. Tomorrow should be pretty light.

Nilou:In that case, push your errands until noon. *red* Let’s hangout all night.

Aether:*red*….I didn’t show you that place in hopes of-

Nilou:I know, silly. I just…think it would be a really good idea. Why stop good things that are happening?

Aether:Teapot it is.

Nilou:It’s okay. I live alone.

Aether:True, but I don’t want to upset any neighbors. Plus you have a public image. I’d hate to cause trouble for you.

Nilou:*deeply moved* Aether?

Aether:Hmm?

Nilou:*kisses cheek* No work tomorrow.

Aether:…..

Aether:Okay.

#genshin impact #gi aether #gi nilou #aether x nilou

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