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#but also due to how it would hurt *you* yet again if you recall it
aethelwyneleigh27 · 1 month
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Toothache
How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?
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Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?
Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..
MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀
My CoD Masterlist
My Simon Riley x You Playlist
Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭
Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??
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Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics
Italic: recalling past events
Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661
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"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"
Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.
He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.
"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."
He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.
"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"
"Simon please go get some rest"
"Simon.."
He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.
"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"
Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.
Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.
"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"
Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.
But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?
"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"
Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.
It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.
How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..
Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?
"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"
Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.
"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.
Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?
"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."
The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.
Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.
"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."
You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.
Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.
Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..
"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"
Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.
The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.
Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.
"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...
"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"
Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.
"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"
That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.
That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.
Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.
"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"
"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.
"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.
Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.
"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."
"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.
"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"
Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.
"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"
It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.
Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.
"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"
Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.
His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.
"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"
You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?
Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.
"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"
You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.
"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.
Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?
"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."
"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"
Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?
"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"
"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"
"Si?"
"Yes, Sunshine?"
"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..
It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.
"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"
He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"
When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.
No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.
And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.
"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."
It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.
Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"
"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.
How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.
He won't let that happen.. he can't...
"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"
Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.
He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real
"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"
Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.
Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.
"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"
The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.
Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.
"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.
"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.
"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.
"I love you Si.."
"I love you too Sunshine"
Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀
Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo
Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia
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doe-eyed-fool · 1 month
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Heaven Is Where You Are
Chapter Two
Lucifer x Fem!Reader
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Warning(s): Slight Angst
Charlie had returned your clothes to you after they were washed clean from the blood. After getting dressed, you joined Charlie in the hotel lobby. But she wasn't the only one waiting.
There were a few other demons in the lobby as well.
"How are you feeling, Y/n?" Charlie asks as she approaches you. "Better, thank you." You tell her with a small smile. "So um, who are they?"
"These are my friends, they also help out around the hotel." Says Charlie, turning to the group of demons. "Everyone, this is Y/n." You waved slightly, feeling awkward. And a tad intimidated, due to the demon with one eye staring at you.
Charlie listed everyone's names as she introduced them to you. You felt a little uncomfortable as you were introduced to Alastor. He looked as if he were plotting something, with that malicious grin of his.
But, you felt more scared of the tiny one eye demon, Niffty. So small and yet, so terrifying...
"So you ain't dead after all?" Asked a tall lanky spider demon. "And you're an angel?"
"Yes and uh, well no, not anymore." You mutter. "Um, I don't know if Charlie has told you, but, I'm not one of the exorcist angels."
"You know about them? I thought Heaven was keeping that kind of information secret." Said Vaggie. Strange, she looked awfully familiar...
"Well, one angel in particular has a big mouth." You sigh.
"Adam." Charlie and Vaggie say in unison. Charlie shook her head before her smile returned. "Anyhow, I was wondering if you had anywhere to stay for the time being?"
You shook your head. "I didn't really plan that far ahead." You admit. "Then you can stay here!" Charlie says cheerfully. "Oh, I don't want to intrude." You say.
"Trust me, we can use all the people we can get." Charlie mutters. "Lots of empty rooms."
"But it looks so nice...Are those barricades?"
"Yeah." Charlie laughs weakly. "Sorry, tomorrow is going to be...rough. I'm sure you know why." Oh that's right. But wait, it's too early for the yearly extermination, isn't it?
"But it hasn't even been a year." You say, confused. Charlie crosses her arms, a look of frustration on her face as she spoke. "Adam decided to move it up early. He's coming right for the hotel with his army of angels."
You sigh. You never did like Adam. He was the absolute worst, and now he's gone and done something as rash as this? And here you thought he couldn't get anymore terrible.
You wish there was something you could do to help. But without your wings, you were pretty much useless...
"But that doesn't matter right now." Charlie reaches for her phone. "For now, you and a certain someone have need to have a reunion." She grins.
Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with nerves, but also excitement. You were moments away from seeing Lucifer again after all this time. What would you say?
Gosh, how did you even look right now?
That fall did more than just hurt you. You were sure you looked a mess.
"Do you mind if I straighten myself up a little? I'd like to look presentable for Lucifer. It'd be a shame to be apart for thousands of years, only to reunite looking a mess." You say with a chuckle.
Charlie nods. "Of course, take your time."
You quickly thank her before rushing upstairs and back to the room you were in to freshen up.
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You looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked much better, aside from the obvious nervous look on your face. It really has been thousands of years. Was he still the same Lucifer you knew back then? Has he changed at all? And if so, how much?
No one really spoke much about Lucifer back in Heaven. Other than to recall the story of his exile. You couldn't help but wonder.
What has ten thousand years of damnation done to him?
There was a knock at the door, causing you to gasp. You became less tense as you heard Charlie's voice.
"Y/n, you in there?"
You stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, looking ahead at the door. "Yes." You tell her. There were sounds of muffled voices from the other side of the door. Charlie's and...
Your heart rate sky rocketed at the sound of the other voice. It sounded so much like his. It had to be him.
You stepped closer to the door and listened carefully.
'So, what was it you called me for again? Is everything alright?'
It was him.
You felt tears gathering in your eyes, you kept listening.
'I have a surprise for you. And I know you're going to love it!' Said Charlie excitedly.
'Heh, I must, if you say I will.'
'Y/n? Can I come in?'
You take a breath to push back the shakiness of your voice. "Yes, you can."
You took a step back as the door opened. Charlie couldn't hold back her excitement, she stepped aside, revealing the man you've longed to see for so long.
Lucifer's wide eyes met your own. The two of you fell silent at the sight of each other.
He looked different. No longer wearing the angelic robes he once wore in Heaven, now sporting sharp fangs and claws, and his eyes blood red.
But you knew it was him. Despite everything, it's still him...
"Y/n..." Your name fell from Lucifer's lips, and it sounded so heavenly coming from him.
"Lu-"
You could barely get his name out as he brought you into a tight embrace. There was nothing holding back the damn in your eyes now, as the tears streamed down your cheeks.
Charlie smiled warmly, stepping out of the room and shutting the door, leaving you two alone.
You then felt Lucifer's hands rubbing at your back.
"What have they done to you?" His voice wavered.
You sigh into his chest. "I allowed it." Lucifer furrowed his brows and pulled back to look at you. "You did this asked for this? You fell...willingly?" You nod. "Why? Why would you have done that?" You were silent for a moment. Lucifer's confusion turned into concern, and maybe even panic.
"Y/n...Don't tell me you let yourself fall from Heaven...for me."
You smiled, moving your hand up to his cheek. "I couldn't stand it Lucifer. So many nights I spent alone, and all I could do was pray for a moment like this. Lucifer..."
"Being apart from you, killed me."
Tears pooled in Lucifer's eyes. "You gave up everything...There's no going back from here Y/n. Don't you understand? You don't deserve to be here. Down here...this awful place, it's not for you."
"Like Heaven was any better." You mutter. "I know everything about what really goes on there. I don't understand how they can call themselves angels. The lies, the secrets, the exterminations...." You sigh before leaning back onto his chest. "I didn't see a point of staying any longer."
"But you've lost everything for me." Said Lucifer. You furrow your brows slightly. "You make that sound like a bad thing."
"It is." Lucifer turns his gaze away from you. "I don't deserve to see you again, and you didn't deserve to loose your place in Heaven because of someone like me."
"Lucifer..." You reach for his hand, but he pulls back. Still not looking at you, he speaks. "I'm not the same person I was back then, Y/n. So much has happened since I fell. Sure, some good but...bad things too. I just don't want you to regret your choice."
"Talk to me Lucifer."
Lucifer glanced at you, your smile weakened. "It's been ten thousand years after all."
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leggerefiore · 1 month
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do you suppose we could have some headcanons for Guzma coming across his S/O’s ex who, to put a fine point on it, didn’t treat them so well?
please, and thank you 💀
sorry its a little short, but I hope you enjoy still!
cw: light mentions of abuse (nothing explicit), guzma intimidating someone, threats
pairing: Guzma/Reader
💀Guzma🕶
□ Due to his affiliations with misfits around Alola, he was, unfortunately, more than inclined to hear abuse stories. Hell, he even had his own as much as he was not the type to talk about it. Your story, though, struck him harder than most. He was not going to lie and pretend that you were not clearly favourite to him, so hearing what you went through made him more frustrated than usual. Some poor random trainer got a hot battle by an angry bug man later that day to vent off the rage.
□ The details about what happened to you and anything about your ex were glued in his mind. He doubted that he would ever come across them, especially in the places that he usually roamed about. Yet, on the off chance that he did, they would get to know destruction in human form. He also let his grunts and Plumeria know about some of the details to make sure that they did not cross your path again. The last thing Guzma wanted was for you to have old trauma forced open by someone not even worthy of your presence.
□ But, as luck would have it, he caught a glance of them while he was in Malie waiting on someone. He had been leaning against the wall of the city's garden when they walked out. Guzma felt his fist unconsciously clench, and his eyes narrowed. This was the person who had caused you so much stress and suffering. Why? He felt bad when you got upset over him getting hurt after messing with that old man's cats. Purposefully drawing out that seemed painful. He strolled over to them while they were blissfully unaware.
□ Guzma easily cornered them somewhere isolated and forced himself to stand up straight to give a little extra edge to his intimidation. He was not going to be stupid and do anything that would make that old man have to come after him. No, all he was going to do was make a few things clear. His brows grew together as his lips pulled back into a harsh expression. A hand hovered over Golisopod's pokeball in case he needed an extra hand.
□ “You recall how you treated your ex?” he spoke with an edge that clearly made them want to curl away from him. Their eyes went wide at his words, and they nodded nervously. Guzma wanted to roll his own. With how you had described them, he would have thought they would have at least done more than look terrified. “Good,” he placed his hands on his hips and made himself seem bigger, “If I ever hear that you harass them again or do any of that kinda shit to anyone else, I'll completely destroy you. Got it?”
□ When they finally squeaked out a “yes,” he backed away and let them go. Quickly, they ran out of the area and into a nearby crowd of people. He almost wanted to laugh at how pitiful they ended up. Did they only want to beat down on people weaker than them? How disgusting. Guzma felt awful that you had to deal with someone like that at all – especially in a romantic capacity. He felt at ease now, at least. A feeling that they would steer clear of you entered him. And, suddenly, he had an urge to take you for a walk around the Malie Garden. Might be nice to do an actual date for a change.
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ariseur · 2 months
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Could you possibly do Vergil with an injured SO that he takes care of? It would be really cool
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on the morrow 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
vergil (devil may cry) x reader
┊ ˚➶ notes 。˚ 🎼
i got csrried away.
┊ ˚➶ warnings 。˚ 🎼
vaguely mentions vergil’s past, intended lowercase, mention of injury and bloody bandages, lmk if i missed anything love 💕
┊ ˚➶ word count 。˚ 🎼
1169 words, 6361 characters
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bright sun rays seeped through the curtains of your room as they shone on your face, providing it with a golden hue as it illuminated every pore and feature in your face with its light. it made your eyelashes flutter as you wiped the sleep from your eyes with a closed fist and resisted the urge to yawn.
you let yourself adjust to the bed, the once cold sheets now warm behind your back as you stretched every aching limb that you could with a small pop. your eyes danced around the room, taking in your surroundings until they scrunched in pain while you hissed at the dull burning in your stomach. the slow pain brought you memories from the day before as you remembered how a pyrobat had gotten you when you were down, how badly the flames it spewed out of its jowls had stung at the initial contact.
while you continued to grimace at the thought, a deep exhale caught your attention as you turned your head. your eyes fell on vergil, his familiar head of hair still up despite just being at home. he always did seem to take pride in his appearance, you recalled.
you eyes stayed glued to him as he shut the book with a soft thud, the book that previously belonged to his human husk of an alternate, the book that adorned his signature ‘v’ on the front cover was now placed on the wooden nightstand next to your bed.
silver eyes bore into yours as he sighed once more. being with vergil so long, you were able to read his emotions. emotions that were so greatly concealed to the naked eye.
you two sat and stared in silence, waiting to see who’d break first. it took you everything not to tear your eyes away from his intimidating gaze as deafening silence fell on both of your ears, any external stimuli beyond the room was suddenly drowned out. it was only you and vergil.
but alas, all silence has to be interrupted eventually. this one just so happened to take a halt because of you.
“have you slept?” you asked, noting his droopy eyes and the way his cheek slightly contracted on occasion, almost as if he was biting his cheek to keep from falling asleep.
“what were you thinking?” he deflected, you also took note of that. nothing from vergil ever got past you.
you tilted your head a bit, silently inquiring as he pinched the bridge of his nose. an exasperated sigh left his lips, which you noticed the peeling of. presumably due to him chewing on them all night.
“don’t be coy.”
“i was just helping.”
“you were vulnerable, you should’ve stayed put instead of,” he paused as he waved a hand around, “carelessly throwing yourself out of cover like that.”
a frowned graced your lips, one similar to his own, “you could’ve been hurt.” he looked up at you with a furrowed brow as he paused. despite vergil thinking of others too, he failed to think about the fact that others could think of him, too.
another pregnant pause, you thought, great.
this time wasn’t as tense, you could still look at vergil and hear the sweet coos of the birds outside. hear the broken smoke alarm that constantly chirped due to one of nico and nero’s “experiments” with his devil bringer. you could still look around the room and still look back at vergil, who sat there in the wooden chair.
“you waited up for me.” you started again, spotting yamato sheathed against your dresser. typically, the signature sword would be on vergil, he never let go of that thing. yet, there it was in the corner, still close just in case he needed to use it. knowing that he’d think he needed it just in case you needed help made a warm feeling swell in your chest as you awaited an answer for him.
he narrowed his eyes before his chest rose with another sigh, “i suppose i did.” his tone seemed unbothered but you knew better. you knew that vergil was grateful, you knew how much he cared for you. otherwise, he would have left you.
you pressed your hand against your stomach, taking note of the bandages wrapped around your midriff. with how much blood you would have assumed you lost, the bandages would have needed to be changed every hour or so. meaning vergil changed them for you. that was enough evidence to confirm your suspicions on their own. with anybody else, vergil would’ve had someone else keep watch while he continued his work. but no, he stayed. for you, you reminded yourself. for you.
you needed each other, both you and vergil knew that. you had helped him through everything, keeping his hand locked in yours despite how much he tried to pull away. you’d sit with him outside no matter how many times he had wished to be alone, voice wavering albeit cold. you’d pull him into a hug when he came home, tired and dragging his feet, assisting him in whatever he needed as he parted with the wintering sadness of his past.
you cannot remain unchanged without making a change of your own, you’d remind him.
as your warm hand gripped the coldness of his, he didn’t let go this time. instead, he gave you one assuring squeeze although it was weak. it still mattered. he refused to look you in the eye. his own eyes, quick and as observant as silver lightning, were now sunken in and tired with sleep as you watched them stay fixated on your hands linked.
conversations under the stars often turned philosophical, usually when dante egged his brother on too much resulting in way too many drinks and threats, some not so empty than others. in these moments, you’d comment how it often felt as if vergil’s hands were molded to fit yours, to which he’d look away as an embarrassed dust of pink would barely grace his cheeks.
you’re grateful that vergil came around to accept you as apart of his life and him in yours. you’re grateful that you’ve inhabited a place between his ribs and that he is reminded of your presence with every beat. you are grateful that you’ve met each other, both in this lifetime and the next. and you know he feels the same way too, although no words come with that feeling.
you’re grateful that you were reborn with your hands molded together, knowing that before you both were just a clump of weeds with roots matted both in and out of the ground, indecisive on where to go.
but as you hold vergil’s hand in yours, the same hand that felt so perfectly designed as a catering to you, you smile. and for what feels like the first time in forever, he smiles back.
you refuse to let him hate himself for his mistakes in the past, as there are more to make on the morrow.
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jamiewintons · 1 year
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Last Resort (Thomas Thorne/F!Reader)
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Summary: You and Thomas have been friends since you were very young, yet he never seems to notice how you feel about him. One day when you watch him attempt to woo an actually interested lady, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Alive!AU. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Idiots in Love. Jealous/Possessive!Reader. Regency Era. Premarital Sex Acts. Loss of Virginity (for both Thomas and reader). Oral Sex (F!Receiving). Unprotected Sex. Marriage Proposals.
A/N: Another fic for my request event! The prompts from @missielynne were “Thomas Thorne + Jealous/Possessive Sex + Secret Crush”. Once again I can’t actually stick to the prompts properly - things start out fueled by jealousy but they don’t stay that way, haha…
It’s been quite a while since I’ve written anything for Thomas, so I hope everyone enjoys this!
Word Count: 3311
Thomas Taglist: @pink-booty-butts, @demontoucansam, @the-fandomgremlin, @veeraine, @glow-inthe-darkstarz, @iwillstealyourtoes-wattpad, @memelous-mrs-maisel, @agir1ukn0w, @definetlynotasmutaccount, @jamiewintonmybeloved, @alinearecta, @notwhateveriwasbefore, @multisexyhoez20, @clydethesnake
*
Your family and the Thorne family had been close since before you were born, owing to the long friendship between your mother and Mrs. Thorne (née Button). You had been particularly close to Mrs. Thorne’s youngest child and only son, Thomas, since you were both children, and had stayed that way into young adulthood.
This close friendship was beginning to become a problem, however.
It must have been in your teenage years when you realised you had started to harbour romantic feelings for Thomas. Thomas, who fell head over heels for every beautiful woman that came his way, but never for you. Did he see you as like one of his sisters? Or perhaps, due to how long you’d known each other, he hardly even recognised you as a woman and simply as a friend? You desperately wished to tell him how you felt, but it was all so difficult. You didn’t wish to ruin the longest lasting friendship you’d had if Thomas didn’t feel anything for you.
But watching him fawn over other women hurt your heart. You’d lost count of how many times he’d confided in you about his deep, loving feelings for a woman who he’d spoken to once. How many times you’d had to listen to the poetry he had composed for them and give him your feedback on it, when all you wanted was for those words to be for you?
But still, you waited, watched, hoping that somehow Thomas would come to the sudden realisation that you love him, leading him to discover that he’d loved you in return all along without realising. Any of the suitable men that your father arranged for you to meet were of no interest to you, because all you could think about was the silly, romantic poet who had stolen your heart without even knowing it.
Your fortunes started to change when you were at a little get together being held by your parents at your family home. Thomas, of course, was also in attendance. You were sticking close to his side, trying not to look utterly bitter as he attempted to woo a young woman who was also attending the event. You couldn’t quite recall her name, but you were sure you’d seen her around before. She was certainly quite pretty; you could see why she had caught Thomas’ eye.
Everything was going normally, until you noticed something quite peculiar. Unlike every other woman you’d seen Thomas attempt to flirt with before, this lady was actually responding positively. She wasn’t trying to brush him off, she actually liked him.
You felt your heart wrench. She was interested in Thomas. Thomas was interested in her. If things went well between them, a proposal might be made. They would marry without you ever getting your chance to let Thomas know how much you adored him. It was a terrifying thing to imagine the only man you’d ever loved marrying another woman. You abhorred the very thought of it, and right away you knew you had to stop it.
When the woman excused herself for a minute, you saw your chance to strike. Grabbing Thomas by the wrist, you began to drag him out of the main room and into the hallway. Everyone had been so busy chatting amongst themselves that none of them noticed either of you leaving. All the way down the hall, Thomas was questioning you and your motives, his voice somewhat high pitched with shock and confusion.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? Where are we going?” he asked you, but you didn’t answer him. Words were not enough, this could only be sorted out with actions. Once you reached your bedroom door, you opened it, pushing Thomas inside and then slipping in after him. You quickly locked it with the latch and then turned back to your utterly baffled friend.
Thomas had no time to question you any longer, because almost immediately after the door was locked your lips were on his. You tangled your fingers in his beautiful soft curls, which you had dreamed of touching ever since your teenage years. You kept kissing him for a few moments, until you realised that he wasn’t reciprocating, and your heart sank. Pulling away, you looked at Thomas, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open in bafflement.
This was it. You’d ruined everything. Thomas was just about to tell you that he saw you as a friend, a sister, that he couldn’t be kissing you like this. Or even worse, due to your little outburst, he might feel like the two of you could no longer be friends at all. Of course, the news would quickly spread to your parents when they realised that you and your former best friend were acting awkward around each other, and then—
To your complete and utter shock, Thomas cut off your thoughts by lunging forward, cupping your face in his hands and crashing his lips against yours.
Like Thomas had earlier, you found yourself unable to reciprocate, at least at first. Once you realised exactly what was happening, you were kissing Thomas back with more passion than you’d ever felt in your life. You’d never kissed anyone like this before, then again you’d never kissed anyone before period. As such it was quite clumsy, as Thomas’ tongue found entrance into your mouth, but still it was perfect. You wouldn’t have wanted this with any other man but him.
Your hands travelled down Thomas’ back as the kiss deepened even further, eventually settling on his backside and pushing him against you, feeling something hardening in his breeches even through the fabric of your clothing. You smiled into the kiss, though your knowledge of what went on between a man and a woman behind closed doors wasn’t very extensive, you certainly knew this was a good sign.
A rush of molten arousal flowed through your body at the feeling of Thomas’ erection pressed against you. Your arousal urged you to take things further, to sate your curiosity and the warm tingling in your lower stomach. You don’t feel entirely in control of your actions when one hand leaves Thomas’ backside in favour of slipping between your bodies, gently beginning to stroke his cock through the fabric.
Thomas lets out a shuddering moan at the feeling of you touching his clothed length. Involuntarily, his hips bucked into your hand, craving more of what you could give him. And you did your best to deliver, with gradually faster strokes that had Thomas burying his face into your neck to muffle the sinful moans that he couldn’t stop from slipping past his lips.
“Not yet,” Thomas said, strained, using all of his willpower to pull himself away from you. For a horrifying split second, you thought that Thomas would leave you here, so aroused and without any relief, but those fears were soon alleviated when he began to slowly move you towards your bed. He kissed your lips hungrily again and again, like he just couldn’t get enough of you. “Forgive me for being such a fool. I can’t believe I never realised how you felt about me. Or how I felt about you.”
“You mustn’t apologise, Thomas,” you said, as the two of you hastily began to unlace and remove each other's clothing. Getting Thomas naked was quite easy, compared to removing all of the many layers of your own garments. Both of your clothes are discarded carelessly in a crumpled heap on the floor. “We both know now, that’s all that matters.”
Once you’re bare, Thomas is completely unable to keep his eyes from roaming up and down your body appreciatively. He’d not seen a naked woman in person before - only in paintings and represented in sculpture - but you were far more beautiful to his eyes than any work of art that could be created. His already prominent erection twitched, as he found his mind overwhelmed with thoughts of what he wanted to do to you; to cover your body in kisses, to pleasure you until the only word you could remember was his name, to make love to you endlessly and bring you to the pinnacle of bliss.
Neither of you were quite sure about how or when you ended up on the bed, but it didn’t seem to matter once you were laying on your back against the pillows, gasping as Thomas’ lips and hands trailed down your body and left goosebumps in their wake. Curiously, he groped at your breasts, relishing in how soft they felt in his hands. Then, he decided to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking until it was hardened into a peak. He did the same to the other, making you whine, before he moved on.
Thomas’ kisses continued downwards until he found himself between your spread thighs, face to face with your glistening wetness. He felt an overwhelming urge to taste you on his tongue; though he had no experience with the act himself, Thomas had heard gossip of men driving women wild with arousal by using their tongues to pleasure them. He felt rather ashamed that he had occasionally touched himself to his recollections of those stories he had been told, to imagining a woman whining and writhing beneath him as he licked her sex until she was screaming. Thomas had ached to try it, so he wasn’t going to miss his chance.
Both of you moaned in unison when Thomas buried his face into your cunt, immediately delving his tongue inside of you to taste you from the source. His fingers dug into your thighs as he withdrew from your entrance and began to lick long stripes up the length of your pussy, noticing you seemed to react more when his tongue touched a little nub near the top.
As such, he began to focus all of his attention there. Thomas alternated between licking and sucking, simply following whatever seemed to make you cry out and tug at his hair the most, and he moaned when you did it, which also seemed to enhance your pleasure. You were babbling above him, and Thomas could feel you bucking your hips slightly in time with his ministrations.
“My God, Thomas, I…” You’d never felt like this in your life. You had touched yourself previously, hidden under your blankets in the dead of night, but it had never been like this. It had felt good, but right now you couldn’t even find the words to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to spread your legs wider or clamp them around Thomas' head so his wonderful, glorious mouth would never stop pleasuring you. “Please don’t stop. Please. Thomas!”
And Thomas didn’t stop. He kept lapping at you until all of the tension in your lower stomach finally snapped, and the most incredible feeling of euphoria overtook your entire being. Thankfully you had the sense to take one of your pillows in your hands and press it over your face, to keep you from screaming so loud that everyone in the house heard you. You were practically sobbing, all thoughts gone from your mind other than those pertaining to Thomas and how he was making you feel. He continued until your body went limp, your legs falling down onto the bed in exhaustion.
You opened your eyes as Thomas rose up from between your legs, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness. You beckoned him up to you and as soon as he was within range, you kissed him fiercely, tasting yourself on him and moaning at the thought of the intimate act he’d just performed on you. Once you’d indulged yourself, you pulled back, staring deeply into Thomas’ eyes. “I want you to make love to me, Thomas.”
“W-we can’t, we’re not husband and wife,” Thomas protested, though he made no effort to move himself away from you, and you could feel his cock twitching against your leg at the thought of being inside of you. “It wouldn’t be right, think of your reputation…”
You lift a hand up to tenderly stroke your thumb against his cheekbone. “Thomas, I’ve loved you ever since I was a teenager. I want to marry you, and I think it’s only fair that since you’ve made such a mess of me, you should take responsibility and make me your wife.” You smiled, leaning up to gently peck him on the lips. 
“Oh, my dear. I’ve had these feelings for you deep inside me for so long, secret to everyone including myself until today. But now I know they have always been there. Of course I will marry you.” Thomas’ own hand came to stroke against your cheek, smiling and you with such adoration that you never could have hoped to see from him. That promise seemed to be the only convincing that Thomas needed, and after wrapping your legs around his waist, he slowly began to push his cock inside of you.
It was quite the stretch, you felt some stinging which led you to dig your fingernails into Thomas’ shoulder. He sheathed himself inside of you very steadily, both for your sake and his - you needed time to adjust, and he was sure he would meet his end too soon if he sped up even a bit. Once he was fully inside of you his face was pressed into your neck again as he whispered sweet praises against your skin.
“My darling, you feel heavenly,” he groaned breathlessly, kissing gently at your throat between each word. “I cannot wait until we’re married, and I can make love to you every morning and night. I love you.”
“I love you too,” you replied, feeling Thomas’ breath hitch at your words. You tightened your legs around him, hoping to give him a signal that you were ready. “Please move, I can’t take it anymore.”
Thomas gave a short nod, and then did as you bid him, starting to rock his hips against yours, making you shudder. It felt so incredible to have him inside of you, to have his body pressed completely against yours. To know that he was yours, and you were his.
Your mouths connected again and you explored each other’s mouths lazily as Thomas gently took you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders. The moans you let out were muffled by his mouth, and you did the same for him. Thomas’ hand stroked up one of your thighs, hitching it up higher on his hip which allowed him to reach deeper inside of you.
“I need to go faster, dear, may I?” Thomas asked, remarkably politely for someone in his current situation. You nodded vigorously, looking into his eyes almost as if you were begging him to do so. With your approval, he began thrusting into you more rapidly, making both of your moans come out louder. Even in your compromised state you knew that wasn’t acceptable - you needed to be quiet, regardless of how good you felt- and grabbed Thomas’ cheeks to pull him down into a passionate kiss, allowing you both to swallow the other’s moans.
Thomas’ hands were gripping your hips, squeezing them like he’d die if he stopped. Though he was attempting to keep up with your kisses, his repeated whispers of your name and “oh God” were making his task difficult. You didn’t know that much about your current activities, but judging by how Thomas’ rhythm was faltering and the way his cock was twitching inside of you, you were sure something was about to happen.
“M-my darling, I’m sorry… i-it’s too much…” Thomas stammered, before hastily pulling out of you. You didn’t even have time to question his actions before you felt him spill onto your stomach, panting and struggling to keep himself upright. But he was determined, and unwilling to leave you without a second high. His hand once again moved between your legs, his thumb rubbing against that place which had brought you so much pleasure before. With how sensitive you were, it took you all of a few moments to climax again, shuddering and gasping until you were completely spent.
Thomas collapsed onto the bed beside you, utterly exhausted. After taking a few moments to catch your breath, your eyes fell to your stomach, where he had spilt himself on you. Looking over to Thomas, you then swept one finger through it, before bringing it to your mouth and slowly sucking it off. You heard him take a sharp inhale at this action, his cheeks flushing an even brighter shade of red.
“Dear, you can’t do things like that. I cannot take it, I won’t be able to keep myself from wanting to take you again.” Thomas’ voice was deeper than usual, and you found you really enjoyed the way it sounded. 
“Would that be so bad?” you asked him, smiling devilishly, and he leaned over to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. When he pulled away, you could see the barely contained lust still in his eyes, and it made another wave of heat flow through you.
“We shouldn’t, my love. At least not until we’re man and wife.” As much as it pained you to wait so long to have him again, Thomas was completely correct. If you happened to get caught in the throes of passion, or God forbid, you ended up pregnant out of wedlock, it would probably ruin your life. So you would have to wait, but it would be so wonderful once you could be together again.
“So you really do want to marry me, then? You weren’t just saying that to get me into bed?”
“Of course not, what do you take me for?” Thomas gasped, absolutely scandalised, and you could hardly keep yourself from laughing at the expression on his face. “I meant what I said when I—”
“Only playing, Thomas,” you soothed, stopping another famous Thomas Thorne rant in its tracks. You moved over a little closer to him so you were able to rest against his shoulder, smiling yet again when he turned his head to pepper more kisses on your face.
You stayed like this for a while, almost having forgotten about everything outside of the room, including the get together that was currently happening just down the hall. As such, it was quite the shock when you heard a voice calling your name outside of your bedroom door, and you sat up abruptly, your heart nearly stopping. After the initial surprise, you recognised it as the voice of your father. He attempted to open the door, but finding it locked, he ceased trying after a few moments. “Y/N, are you in there?” he asked, and though you knew he couldn’t see you, you felt the need to cover yourself up.
“Yes, Father!” you responded obediently. “I’m sorry I rushed away… I was starting to feel a little bit lightheaded, so I decided to take a short lie down.”
“Do you need for me to call the doctor?” You could hear a tone of concern in his voice, and it made you smile.
“No, please don’t worry! I’m feeling much better now. Please give me a few moments, and I will be right back.” You stood up as quietly as you could, and began to pick up your clothing, wanting to get a head start on redressing.
“Of course.” You could hear his footsteps going back down the hallway, but he quickly returned a few moments later. “Now that I think of it, have you seen Thomas anywhere? He seemed to disappear around the same time that you did.”
You paused in your redressing to turn to Thomas, who had started to get dressed himself, having to stifle a quiet giggle. “No, I have absolutely no idea as to where he might be.”
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emelinstriker · 1 year
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Macaque ♢ No Response
Got too many fluff fics of Macaque, so have this one for the feels. c:
Hanahaki go brrr-
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♢ ~ Angst ~ ♢
Not just anyone got to be this close to Macaque. Be it emotionally or physically. This demon held even people he enjoyed being around with at arms-length. You knew it's due to his past experiences and you didn't mind. You enjoyed hanging out with him regardless... Though, you were disappointed that he never showed any signs that he was actually interested in you beyond friendship. Thus, you never tried to make a move. However, you did give away subtle hints that you liked him.
From the way you were helping him with his daily plans, to the way you were regularly smiling at him. He never seemed to take the hint. He simply treated you like he would any other he deemed as 'friend', while also putting his dislike for Sun Wukong first.
And it hurt.
Yet this pain was quite minimal compared to how you felt during one evening's 'hangout'...
The sun was starting to set as the people of Megapolis slowly started to head home to rest from their tiring day at work or school. Meanwhile, you were waiting in an isolated corner at the park for Macaque to arrive. He wanted to meet up to ask you something so important that texting you apparently made him feel uncomfortable.
Hope arose when you read his hangout message once again. Was he going to confess? Was your love for him reciprocated?
After what seemed like an hour of waiting, despite it only having been roughly 10 minutes, a shadow portal appeared underneath the closest tree's shade. And as expected, your monkey friend appeared. "Sorry about being a little late. I quickly had to check up on someone..."
You waved your hand dismissively, telling him that it's fine. "I haven't even waited for half an hour. Anyway, what was it you wanted to ask?"
"Ah, straight to the point, as usual", he chuckled. However, while his smile remained, his gaze suddenly seemed a lot more nervous.
"Well... You see... How do I put this-"
Hope arose once more as you noticed a very faint blush on his cheeks. Macaque crossed his arms for some comfort.
"Do you..."
Your smile brightened.
"...Do you know what would be a good gift for a first date?"
...
What.
And in an instant, your smile was gone and was replaced by a mixed expression of hurt and confusion. You masked the expression with more of the confusing part almost immediately.
"I- Um- What-"
"I got a date with a human this evening and I haven't even come up with a gift! But humans bring gifts to dates, right??"
"...W- Well, generally speaking, I... I guess flowers are a first date thing?" You shrugged. "Or- Uh... Something small they might like? I- I don't know?"
"Something they might like... from what I recall, they don't like flowers. So that option is out of the question..."
"Oh." You liked flowers. "T- Then I don't know how to help you here... Sorry." He wasn't talking about you, clearly.
He sighed, placing one hand behind his neck with the other on his hip. "It's fine. I guess I could've just asked you this through text. But I felt like it'd be too... awkward."
"As if this meeting wasn't awkward...", you muttered lowly, hoping he wouldn't hear. Though, you forgot about his extreme hearing. The dark-furred simian raised an eyebrow at you, but refused to say anything. This meeting was kind of awkward after all. However, he thought it was awkward due to a very different reason.
"...Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" You asked after a few seconds of silence. If he paid enough attention, he would've heard the obvious disappointment in your voice.
"I...", he started before pausing, "...No, actually. I'm just... looking for advice."
Your mouth formed a straight line as you crossed your arms. "I... guess all the advice I can give you is... act like yourself, give them something small they might like, and just... have fun. Good luck on your first date though, I'm rooting for you", you added with a small, fake smile.
And with that, you started to turn and walk away, hands in your pockets... When you suddenly had the urge to cough. You covered your mouth with one hand as you rather loudly coughed, trying to get rid of whatever was itching in your throat... And out came a tiny bit of blood. Your eyes widened at the sight as you let out a very quiet gasp. Macaque, of course, heard you. "Are you okay, (Y/N)?"
"Y- Yeah. Just... caught a bit of a cold, I- I guess... Don't worry about me though! Worry about your date!" You nervously laughed, brushing off the concern his gaze on you held.
"Are you sure? I could at least-" "N- No, no! It's fine! I'm f- fine! Maybe a walk back home will clear my pipes more." You were trying to hold back another cough as you started to walk away a little faster. "See you after your date! Text me how it went!"
After letting out another cough, you started to speedwalk away, leaving the shadow monkey alone to his thoughts. He was worried, sure, but you had a point. He had a date to prepare for and he was majorly unprepared.
While he set out to finding the perfect first date gift for the other human, you arrived home and ended up coughing into your bathroom's sink. You were already expecting more blood, but you were not expecting the petals that followed soon after...
You needed answers.
And so, you ended up looking up your symptoms on your phone. Oddly enough, it did not take long at all to figure out why you were suddenly sick and coughing up bloody petals. The first page of your search was entirely filled with articles, images and even documentaries about it. A disease, or rather a curse, called Hanahaki.
Apparently it wasn't a common disease. It sort of seemed to have vanished for the most part, and the most recent records you could find seemed to have happened a few years ago. It seemed to involve falling in love with demons and said demons not returning the person's love. Which is why it was also deemed to be a curse- A curse the Celestial Realm may have set upon humanity for committing the sin of falling in love with a demon. However, as said before, it seemed to have died down and the greater majority of humans are safely able to be with a demon...
You were not part of that greater majority.
Dread washed over you as you felt the urge to cough again. 'Oh, what fun', you thought sarcastically. Especially after knowing Macaque was on a date with someone potentially better and more interesting than you... Tears gathered in your eyes at the thought of being completely replaced by someone else as the person he usually came to talk to first. It did not help your increasing coughing fit.
Your coughing did not seem to decrease of stop either as more and more thoughts clouded your mind. Perhaps Macaque would be better off without you bothering him with your interest in him...
Speaking of the shadow monkey, he did not have a great time on his date either. Turns out his interest for his crush disappeared the moment they started to talk about their interests without ever asking him about himself. The conversation seemed to be more one-sided if anything. He did try to add some of his own interests into the mix, but his date would brush those off within seconds and lead back towards their own topics.
He couldn't help but imagine how this conversation would've gone if you were sitting there instead of his date. You probably would've talked about mutual interests and lead to the topic of a new videogame you two could try together. The dark-furred simian sighed as he nodded along to whatever his date was saying, already zoning out of the 'conversation' and starting to look at his phone on his lap.
At some point, they started talking smack about their friends and hinted at his friends probably being 'just as strange'. His thoughts only went back to you. However, one statement actually pulled him into the topic.
"That being said, i knew a loser back in my school days named (Y/N)." His date said as the monkey's ear twitched. "What an oddball, honestly. All they ever did was read, write and draw during recess with no friends at all. Haha! Someone this quiet and awkward would never be able to score a date, I tell you-" They suddenly stopped when they noticed the intense glare the demon sitting across the table was giving them.
"...You know what? Sorry, but I don't think this relationship could ever work. I'm out. Check's on you", he stated before angrily getting up from his seat. He took a few steps back before phasing through his own shadow.
"Huh- Wha-... HEY!"
Once back in the darkness of Megapolis's streets, Macaque started to calm down. Sure, they could've meant another (Y/N), but the way they described those interests of yours, those interests that you've been carrying around happily for years... It just struck a cord and he somewhat snapped. He actually had to hold himself back from just outright yelling at this human.
Though, even if they were not talking about you at all, they still were not suitable as his mate. The lack of common interests was just one part of it. Either way, he decided to text you, knowing you would still be up at this time. It wouldn't be the first time he would want to visit you before the clock hit midnight.
'Date was a bust'
'Kept talking shit and i lost interest before we even hit the 30 min mark'
'You awake?'
Yet you did not reply.
Strange. You did not answer like how you usually would... Maybe you just fell asleep early? After all, you probably expected him to be unavailable for the entire evening. And if you were sick, that would just add even more reason to it. Macaque groaned. He should've stayed with you to make sure you were actually okay! Worry started to take ahold of him once more at the thought of you ignoring his texts due to your last conversation with each other.
Only then did he realize... You actually seemed disappointed when he told you about his date.
What hit even harder was the memory of him wishing you sat with him instead of this other human he thought he had a crush on. But... it was you he actually wanted. It's been you for so long and he never realized.
He facepalmed before deciding you give you a surprise visit. Just to make sure you were asleep and not ignoring him for his stupidity. Using another shadow portal, his next destination was your living room. Once inside, he quietly roamed the darkened apartment. All lights seemed to be off, so he thought you were actually asleep... Until he noticed the light coming from your bathroom. Macaque, instead of knocking as to not scare you into thinking he was an intruder, spoke up.
"(Y/N)? Are you in there?"
No response.
"...Are you mad at me for sending you to the park for our short talk?"
No response. The demon closed his eyes and focused on the bathroom's sounds. Maybe you were actually ignoring him.
However, confusion started to kick in as he noticed... He did not hear anything. No water dripping, no movement of clothes...
...Not even a heartbeat?
Now that he thought about it, he did not hear your heartbeat even once since he got here... But you would never leave the bathroom's lights on if you left... If anything, you would only leave the living room's lights on if you were out for a short moment. Concern replaced his confusion as he tried opening the door. Only for it to be locked. He cursed under his breath before using his shadow form to enter the small crack beneath the door...
He froze.
There you were. Lying on the ground.
Dead.
He already knew you had no pulse. Your heart wasn't beating. And he couldn't hear any faint breathing either. But... what made him freak out the most was how you died. Dark purple petals filled up the sink. Dark purple flowers filled up your bloodied mouth...
Hanahaki.
Macaque started to hyperventilate as tears quickly gathered in his eyes. He ended up sobbing once he fell onto his knees. grabbing ahold of your corpse, cradling it in his arms.
"N- No- Please- This- This is a joke, right? You're not- You're not actually dead- Right??"
No response.
"PLEASE- SAY SOMETHING- ANYTHING-!"
No response.
"...I didn't get to... I couldn't even tell you... I just..."
No response...
"...I love you... sugarplum..."
> Masterlist <
♤  Part 2
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fizzigigsimmer · 5 months
Text
Fargo Season 5: Gator Speculation
Y’all I am starting to fear for this man’s life. 😂 If you have not watched episode 5 yet, warnings for spoilers ahead.
So my theory that Gator and Dot may have previously been romantically involved went from an itch based on tiny clues that might have been circumstantial, to a full on burn last night.
Up until now we haven’t had any confirmation of Dot/Nadine’s age. The actress is only a few years older than Joe, but Hollywood is notoriously gross about women not looking their age, so it was entirely possible Juno was playing much older than she actually is. But now we know Dot was a teenager when she was brought into Roy’s little cult and when she married him.
For me that pretty much confirms that she and Gator are peers, and that he was a teenager when his father married a child near his own age. 🤢
Another thing that went from an itch to a burn for me: During the home invasion, when Dot first sees Gator she says “shame on you there’s a baby in this house”. This struck me because it’s the first time that I can recall Dot using such infantile language to refer to her daughter. While it’s not strange at all or uncommon for people to infantilez children in general, typically that kind of perspective becomes part of your regular speech patterns. “Gotta get home to my babies” that sort of thing. But to my memory Dot has always referred to Scotty with very particular language, possessive language at that. Scotty is always her child, her cub - and they even have her remind us there isn’t anything a mother lion wouldn’t do to protect her cub.
Dot might have chosen to refer to Scotty as a baby in that moment out of calculation, in the hopes that it would prick Gator’s conscience - which naturally infers that she has reason to believe he has one to work over. It also can’t be ruled out either that the specific use of the word baby was an unconscious slip, due to her shock and the vulnerability of the moment. Because the last time she saw Gator she was pregnant with what might be his baby.
The other hint we got this week is Dot confirming that Roy is an abusive piece of shit. She says something along the lines of what is obvious about Roy - that when he’s happy and feels in control things were good, but the minute he feels challenged or insecure he’d hit her and climb all over her just to feel strong again. Only when she’s describing this behavior she specifically uses the word ‘they’. They don’t hit you at first. “They” turn on you and push you down when they need to feel strong.
Now of course, Dot could just be talking about men in general. Men like Roy. But well, Gator IS a man like Roy. He’s desperately trying to walk in his father’s shoes and be all of the things he’s not, and he lashes out on other people to build himself up. We know from his own lips what he did to another teenager who accidentally injured him during a high school football game and stole his (most likely imagined) future in football. Given how close he and Dot are in age and all the hints that we have that he feels something for her, I think it’s highly likely that something happened between them.
I think it’s very possible that they connected, and were able to be vulnerable with each other. Gator seems just as surprised that Dot has become a “tiger” as Dot was that he has become his daddy’s lacky. I think in the past, at first they were able to find comfort in each other and things were good but eventually Gator did something that scared Dot and she decided to run.
At this point, I am confident at the very least that Gator’s feelings for/about Dot are romantic. Whether or not Dot has ever reciprocated them is still 50/50 for me. Regardless I think Gator held a candle for her and that as the tensions rise in the final episodes and he sees just how far Roy is willing to go to hurt and control her it’s going to force him to take a hard look at Roy, the kind of man and father he is, and really ask himself if that’s what he wants to be.
The part that scares me is Roy. Because when he’s in control and he feels like he has power over you, he’s loving. But the minute you do something to rock the boat… 😩 I have this really bad feeling that Gator is going to make an effort to be his own man, just in time to learn a final lesson about just what type of monster he narrowly avoided becoming. That scene with the blindfold and the rope keeps coming back to me.
Of course, my anxieties about that little clip aside there is always the possibility of the narrative going full Shakespeare on us. Gator, bringing about the downfall of his father’s kingdom by falling in love with his step mother and killing his father. 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 Full on Oedipus.
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faulty-writes · 9 months
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Hi, hello!
I found your blog on accident, but it was a really good accident. I love how you write for bnha boys and girls, haven't seen that of an accurate descriptions in a while! It's really enjoyable.
Could I request a female reader with Stymphalian Bird like quirk? Like reader has big wings with very sharp, metal feathers that she can use as blades or just shoot them out. She also has sharp claws that administer poison to the wounds and sharp teeth. Because of that, as her quirk is pretty deadly, she became a villain due to harassment and bullying, but she never kills or severely injures anyone, mostly just destroying property and stealing. However, due to the scale of the attacks, she is considered dangerous, high ranking villain.
But she does it rather to spend her anger and survive rather than actually trying to hurt anyone.
For the Bois Like Hawks, Aizawa and Izuku?
You don't have to write it if you don't want to, I tend to overcomplicate things 😅
[ I'm happy it was a happy accident for you! Apologies that this took longer than expected. Life sucks sometimes. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. ]
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It didn't take a genius to figure out that while you were a high-ranking villain, you never actually shed the blood of the innocent. That's what he found most peculiar, and after months of hounding Madam President, he was finally assigned to apprehend you. Of course, he'd use that as an excuse to find out more about you and more importantly, why you spared innocent lives.
"Sorry there," the sound of your metal feathers crashing against the vacant building was a sound he wouldn't forget. "Guess I'm just a little faster than you, nice try though," he said at your first meeting. He recalled the way you growled, staring up at him with those intense eyes before again trying to strike him down.
Connecting with you was more challenging than he thought. This was even after expressing his interest in getting to know you. He even ventured as far as trying to gain your sympathy by sharing a little bit of his past, namely that his father was a villain and that's why he could understand where you were coming from, but you knew the real reason he told you this was because he hoped you'd open up. But no, you were stubborn and refused to tell a "hero" anything.
"Even with those sharp claws and teeth, you can still be a hero!" He yelled one day while engaged in another furious battle with you. His body had received a few scratches but nothing lethal, of course even if it were, he wouldn't care. He only wanted to convince you that you could still save yourself from this villainous path.
"Heh, well, it looks like you caught me," he joked, daring to smile as you pinned him against the wall with a satanic snarl. "But what's this? Not gonna use your poison, what gives? Or are you just too scared to use it?" His words sent a violent tremble through your body and as capable as you were of poisoning him, you backed away.
"You know, not that I'm much for looks even though I'm considered gorgeous by most, but you should smile more. You'd look even more beautiful than you are." You weren't sure if he meant that to be insulting or not, but why would you smile when you had sharp dangerous-looking teeth?
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The two of you were locked in a fierce hand-to-hand combat session when you first met. You scared some innocent civilians and panic arose. Shota was the first on the scene and made the first move. However, he ultimately ended the fight because there was no illegal quirk usage on your end and that meant no crime was committed. You thought that would be the last time you'd see him.
He recognized your potential from the start, and while your skills could be used for a heroic purpose you were still a villain and one, he intended on stopping, yet he wasn't beyond trying to reason with you. He'd always say something along the lines of "I could care less about detaining you, but you could channel your quirk for a greater purpose." Often his words were met with more retaliation.
He taught his students about the dangers of vigilantism. There was no excuse for what they did. They were criminals, and yet he couldn't help but compare you to a young man he met years ago. He was a vigilante, but Shota let his antics slide and never thought he'd let that happen again but something inside him kept calling him back to you.
He knew it was foolish and dangerous to track you down, and he'd never forget the feeling of your claws digging into his flesh and the sickening feeling of his life slipping away because of the poison that ran through his body. Yet, even as he lay in the hospital bed, he knew that your intention wasn't to kill him and that he'd pursue you again.
You weren't sure if you were angry or relieved when he ambushed you in the alleyway. However, how he smirked at you when you pinned him against the wall with your feathers made you feel uneasy as did his words. "You didn't intend to kill me. If you really want a change in perspective, Yuuei can help you." He acted as though he cared, and you hated that.
"Don't just stand there, we may be heroes, but we all agreed to help you, and in exchange, your villain record will be erased." This was the compromise you had reached with Shota after months of arguments and being at each other's throats, you finally agreed to at least see the world of heroes. In return, Shota had promised no harm would come to you, and it was almost funny or pathetic that you believed him.
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"I...I just w-want to know more about y-your quirk!" His words were coated in fear, and his eyes were fixated on your claws that were mere inches from his face. But his words also made you stop and think for a moment before declaring him a fool and shoving him to the ground.
His frequent visits quickly annoyed you, so you decided to poison the annoying pest to finally make him leave you alone. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Izuku returned after being released from the hospital. "I k-know you didn't mean to kill me! A-and that means t-that you have c-compassion!" His words were greeted with laughter. Yes, quite a stupid kid he was.
"W-why did you become a villain? Your q-quirk may seem dangerous, b-but if…if you really want, I can s-support you because I think…I think you'd make a wonderful h-hero!" A small amount of blood was shed when your claws swiped across his face, but you knew no matter how much pain you inflicted on him, he'd keep returning.
"Here, I t-thought you might be h-hungry!" You weren't sure if you were hateful or grateful because Izuku brought you food. "You n-need to eat! Even v-villains…n-not that I think you are o-one, need…need to eat!" You could hardly believe that you thanked him for said food, but hell…it was less work on your part. Villains didn't exactly get a paycheck, so you mostly relied on stealing and scaring others to get food or material means.
When he showed you his notebook and all the details, he had written about you, it changed something. It made you think and wonder why he was so interested in a villain like you. However, thinking back to your previous encounters, you realized it wasn't because he looked at you as a villain but as a person with a troubled past.
When he started bringing his "friends" to you to prove that not all heroes would judge you, there was a certain rage that seeped deep inside you. The last thing you wanted was more annoying brats around, but to your surprise, they were curious and accepting about you and spoke highly of Izuku and you almost hated yourself for agreeing that the once annoying pest was…pleasant to be around.
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asmo-ds · 2 years
Note
(Sorry for sending an ask when you aren't open, you said it was okay but I still feel bad. Also trigger warning for implied past assault)
How do you headcanon the demon brothers would react if Mammon told MC about the situation with the witches (where it was implied they assulted him) and then MC absolutely exploads on all of the brothers for having joked about it. Like so angry that they're pulling out all the stops and protecting Mammon like a guard dog
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MC Yells at the Brothers for Not Protecting Mammon
TW: Past SA, yelling, swearing, guilt, self hate, insecurities
Description: When Mammon confides in MC about his past assault from the witches and his brothers' responses to the situation, MC loses their mind and goes off on all the brothers, causing them to rethink their behavior
a/n: I haven't written since that last fic i posted a very long time ago so I might be rusty, but since i recently started playing again I wanted to try and do some writing for you guys that stuck around, thank you for being patient <3
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Lucifer
When MC comes storming out of the room they and Mammon were hanging out in Lucifer is shocked to see the slam the door
As he is about to scold them for not being careful in a house that does not belong to them they suddenly point to him and say “Go sit in the dining room and wait for your other brothers.”
Due to his pact he is forced to the table, sitting in stunned silence for his brothers to arrive.
One by one they enter the dining room, all looking around with worry
Once everyone but Mammon had sat down around the table, MC began speaking
“You all knew about what the Witches did to him. You all KNEW they had hurt him. Yet you find it amusing and laugh about the situation. Your brother is in pain and yet you mock that pain,” they continue on, exploding and ranting about how they could have protected him, or at the very least, comforted him after his assault
The brother look around guiltily at each other, except for Lucifer who keeps his head hung low
He searches for a way to justify his behavior, but as MC continues to point out more and more errors in his ways, he cannot seem to find anything.
Why didn't he protect his brother? That was his duty.
After MC had stormed out of the dining room and back to Mammon he remained still, his mind racing, guilt building up over just how badly his behavior had hurt his little brother
Mammon had  fought alongside Lucifer through every battle, sure he was annoying and often caused damage to Lucifer’s credit score, but that didn’t matter, what mattered was the way he failed to fight for Mammon, the same way the younger had done for him for thousands of years.
As soon as he returned to his office, he got to work, recalling every name that he could recall being mentioned in Mammon’s story, finding their whereabouts, making documents of the incident to send to Diavolo to properly handle the situation and try and make things at least a little bit right.
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Mammon
He confided in MC, he wasn't sure if it was the emotional vulnerability he somehow felt around the human or the demonus they had been sipping on in his room
He told them about his traumatic event, recounting every detail and the way he was treated by his brothers afterward and how hard it was to watch them laugh at his situation like that.
When he looked up from his lap he saw MC’s eyes were filled with rage and he regretted telling them, thinking they were mad at him for trauma dumping without permission
He began to apologize but they put a hand on his shoulder, raising the other to his cheek, cradling the somehow fragile demon lord in front of them
“It’s going to be okay, I need to do something very quickly but I will be right back and we can do whatever you need to be comforted right now,” they said, storming out the door. 
He waited a few minutes before going to look for them, hearing their loud voice coming from the dining room
He hid behind the door frame and listened to their words, the way they defended him and called out the bad behavior and treatment he had received in response from his brothers
He felt guilty for getting his brothers scolded at- but damn did it feel good to see someone love him so much that they'd scream at a group of the 6 most powerful demons in the Devildom.
When he sensed MC was finishing up, he scurried back to his room, a sad yet fond smile on his face- someone cared, and it felt so good
MC returned to his room, quickly wrapping their arms around his neck and kissing his cheek
“You’re safe now, I won't let anyone hurt you again”
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Leviathan
Leviathan was peacefully playing games in his room, when there was loud banging on his door, startling him and causing his character to die
He groans and makes his way to the door, “Password?” he loudly asks
“None of that shit, get in the dining room, NOW,” MC hisses back, their words dripping with venom
He shivers, knowing things couldn’t be good if MC was using their pact to force him into a different area
He unwillingly makes his way to the Dining room, where he sees Lucifer sat, also with a bewildered look on his face
He feels like he may throw up, the vibes MC gave off in their short meeting before were causing him great anxiety
He felt his hands grow sweaty as he fidgeted, watching his brothers make their way to the room one by one
As MC began speaking he felt his heart sink
Throughout their speech his heart sunk lower and lower, guilt eating at him as he thought about how it would feel if he were in Mammon’s shoes
He felt tears filling his eyes and his cheeks burning red, he was embarrassed and guilty over his treatment of Mammon, even if he stole his stuff sometimes
He knew he shouldn’t have been so mean when the actual event happened, but making fun of Mammon had become such second nature that he couldn’t help it
But he should’ve done more
The second MC leaves he runs back to his room, shutting the door, locking it, and turning off his lights, clumsily making his way to his bed
He laid there crying and trying to think of ways he could repair all of the damage he’d done
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Satan
Satan could sense an angry force coming quickly towards his room, closing his book he ran to his door, ready to open it when MC would arrive
He smiled- thinking Mammon had somehow enraged the human and now they were coming to him to let off some steam since he was the avatar of wrath and knew how to handle anger properly
Before they could even knock he swung open the door, smiling politely at MC, only to be met with an icy cold glare
As they commanded him he made his way to the kitchen, confused and worried about the human
Had Mammon pissed them off so bad they were going to announce their early departure from the Devildom?
He saw all his brothers fidgeting and exchanging worried glances
What worried him most was how quiet and submissive Lucifer was acting- it wasn’t normal and he knew that it must mean bad news
MC arrived and he sighed, glad he’d finally get to know what had spiked their anger levels so high
They spoke and his blood ran cold with every word
He let their words sink in, keeping his composure on the outside but raging on the inside
His initial reaction was to be mad at both MC and Mammon, Mammon for tattling on their bad behavior and MC for daring to speak to them in such a way
After storming back to his room though he truly realized what had just happened
He realized he hurt the brother who raised him
Someone who always protected Satan when he was weaker and younger
He felt like his soul had been crushed, finding comfort in sad stories for the rest of the night, unable to focus on the words
His main focus was finding those piece of shit witches and introducing them to his torture chamber
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Asmodeus
Asmo was doing his skincare routine when the sharp knocks came on his door
He skipped to the door happily smiling at MC
“MC! Did you finally ditch Mammon to come spend the night with me~” He squealed happily
“Go to the dining room and wait with your brothers
His happiness immediately disappeared as they used the pact on him, shocked by the sheer power of their pact and the venom in their voice
He sat at the table, still in shock, and turned to his brothers, whispering to them about what could be happening and asking if anyone knew anything
As MC entered the room he looked at them with terror in his eyes, their body trembling with rage and more power leaking off of them than he had ever seen from any human besides Solomon
As they began to speak and tell the brothers why they were so angry he felt as if time stopped
Asmodeus had dealt with enough SA stories from close friends and witnessed and saved many people from SA
So when he had initially heard his brother’s story he was shocked it had happened
He hadn’t made fun of Mammon, he just stayed quiet and didn’t address the problem- an action he deeply regretted
He was just so distraught at the time, he had stopped so many SAs and comforted people who had been SA’d so why couldn’t he do that for his dear older brother?
Was it harder to accept because he had such a deep connection with the person it had happened to? He wasn’t sure
As MC left the room, he slowly made his way to his own
He took off his face mask, deciding to end his routine halfway through
Instead he curled up on his bed, staring at absolutely nothing and unable to clearly understand his thoughts
At some point he felt himself crying but he felt so depressed over the situation he couldn’t fully process it
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Beelzebub
In the kitchen, he had been eating away at the food that filled their fridge, ensuring it would be empty by the time the clock struck midnight
He hears many footsteps entering the dining room, confused as they had all eaten dinner as a family earlier in the night
One of the footsteps grew louder, approaching the kitchen and he hurriedly tried to hide the scraps of food he’d already eaten in the fridge
He saw MC and smiled- but immediately it faded as he saw the look in their eyes
“Sit in the Dining room and wait,” they didn’t even use the pact on him, knowing Beel wouldn’t put up a fight
He walked to the dining room and sat down next to his brothers, listening to Asmo ask what could be wrong and only offering a weak shrug in response
Calmly he also tried to think of what they all could’ve done wrong
MC strode into the room with wrath filling every inch of their small human frame, power oozing off of them
He shivers and listens to MC as they speak
His hunger seems to vanish and be replaced by his guilt
He guiltily looks down at his lap
Mammon fought for Lilith, he fought literal GOD for his family, and when he needed a shoulder to lean on or someone to fight for HIM.. Beel just did nothing
He retreated to his room, letting his stomach growl for hours as he paces the room, plotting on how he could fix the bond he’s broken
He asks his brothers if any of them had located the witch who hurt Mammon, knowing they surely must be thinking the same thing
He decided he would not eat the night before they go after the witch, knowing he wouldn’t want to fill up before he made a meal of them
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Belphegor
Surprise surprise… this bitch is sleeping when MC is making their rounds
MC opens the door to the twins’ room and finds him sleeping soundly
They walk over to the bed, shaking the demon harshly, hardly being able to wake him
They pull him until he falls off the bed, effectively waking him up
He grumpily looks up at the enraged human and glares, “Why are you waking me up?” 
They tell him to go to the dining room but he simply climbs back onto his bed, about to pull the covers over himself, when he feels the human grab him by the back of his shirt and begin to drag him out of the room, their strength coming purely from the anger they felt towards the demon
He struggled at first but eventually opted to let them drag him there
Once he was sat at the table MC began to speak
He was listening sleepily at first, but as they got more and more into how disgusted they were with the brothers, Belphie woke up, starting to feel disgusted by himself as well
After MC leaves he retreats to the attic, trying to sleep once again but not being able to with how many of his thoughts were racing
Mammon had never treated Belphie badly besides stealing a few things every now and then, but Belphie treated Mammon like a punching bag and it wasn’t fair
As he thought about his disgusting behavior he thought of every other disgusting thing he’d done up until that point
He was left laying on the bed in the attic, unfortunately awake and drowning in self-hatred
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arxxq · 1 year
Text
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ It's cold..when you're not around
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╰┈➤ ❝ [now that you’re here...i finally feel warmth again ] ❞
In which: the story of two lovers who were actually for once made for one another, but unfortunate for them, fate wasn’t on their side, so with that, their love story ended in such a tragic way...
Characters: Itoshi Rin and fem! reader
lowercase intended
angst? written in third person pov
this is my first time writing angst..
mistakes will be fixed once i reread.
A/n: first time writing my laptop and switched to tablet as well...
----
It all began in a heavy rain during a snowy night. the home of where the two lovers live was nothing but quiet as one of was pacing in the living room worried for the other. why was the other so worried? maybe because her significant other has not return home since early this morning. as she was pacing in the living room, she thought of many possibilities on where her lover could be. 
her pacing stopped when she heard the door opened to reveal her one and only love, itoshi rin was his name. out of anger and frustration, the female yelled at him while her body was clearly trembling due to how cold it was.
“where have you been all day?! do you even know what time it is?!” the girl yelled relieved yet mad towards her lover. her lover meanwhile was not in a good mood and because of that he just scoffed walking in the house without saying anything. “are you even listening to me right now?” she yelled again but this time out of confusion and disbelief on the way her lover was currently behaving right now. rin groaned. “i wasn’t out for that long, i was just practicing okay,” there it is again. you sighed. “why do you always do this to yourself? i don’t fucking get it..” she mumbled but unlucky she is, rin had heard her clearly. 
“i fucking told you didn’t i? i’m doing this to beat my brother, what part of that do you don’t understand,” he snapped. y/n looked at him scared. her body was not only shivering due to the temperature, but also due to fear. “sometimes i wonder why i fell for you in the first place...” those word out of his mouth..that had finally shattered her into pieces of glass. “all you do is whine almost all the time,” 
“and if things couldn’t possibly get worst, you would always start nagging me and stuff!” you held in your tears throughout all the hurtful words he was saying. “you’re nothing but a burden to me nowadays,” as he finish with his hurtful sentences, y/n breathe out a shaky breathe and scoffed continuing with a chuckle. “a burden huh? maybe that’s also the reason why you’re brother chose to cut ties with you..”
“i should’ve listened to my friends...but due to being blinded by love i didn’t and gave you a fucking chance...i can’t do this anymore, at least not with you,” y/n spoke out with a wobbly voice. “i think we should have some time apart,” with those words, you went out of you’re shared home and went into the cold weather. 
walking down the streets, y/n was freezing to death. she really didn’t think that time. all she was wearing at the moment was a thin sweatshirt. not even a coat nor a scarf to keep her warm. not to forget it was raining, she didn’t even bother to bring an umbrella along. i guess due to the heated argument that happened earlier, she couldn’t think straight. and she clearly wasn’t thinking straight right now as well. 
----
when his lover finally got out of the house, rin finally realized what he had done. he didn’t mean to snap at his love no. he was just so angry at that moment and it seems like he accidentally let out his anger on y/n. no he was the one to worry. from what he had recalled, you had went out of the shared house with nothing but a thin sweatshirt on. 
he pulled out his phone pacing in the living room, he searched for you’re contact and dialed it. this time it was his turn to feel worried and panicked for the other. what surprised him was that it went straight to voicemail. why did it do that? he tried calling you multiple times but it still went straight to voicemail. before he tried to dial you again, another number had called him. he picked it up anyways due to curiosity. 
but he did not expect for it to be about you. 
“excuse me sir but is this Itoshi Rin?” rin held his phone while his hand was trembling. “yes it is,” he replied in a tremulous voice. the other side of the phone had went silent for a while but after that the man said something that would shatter the itoshi even more. "we're sorry to inform you but..you're significant other had gotten into an accident.."
××××
Rin rushed to the hospital as fast as he could. He couldn't believe what he heard from that man but he knew that it couldn't possibly be a joke right? Because that explains why it went to voicemailvwhenvhe tried to call her earlier. Rin was worried hut also scared, he can't lose his love...he just cant but it was too late, the moment he arrived near the emergency room, he heard the sounds of y/n's sister crying while the doctor's head was hung low and that was enough to make him feel devastated.
That incident occurred a year ago. Till this day onwards, rin still blamed himself for it. "If i didn't snapped at you..then maybe you would still be here with me.." those thoughts would constantly be in his head whenever he feels alone or cold.
Right now he was infront of the grave of his deceased love along with her sister as well. Just as rin was about to leave, izuru, her sister stopped him. "Here take it..y/n wrote this for you a long time ago and I just figured it's time I give it to you..," it was nothing but a black envelope sealed with red wax. Rin took it from izuru and with that he left the graveyard.
He then proceeds to go somewhere where only y/n and him would go. It was under a tree but due to the snow the tree along with the ground was covered in snow. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he opened the said letter. From what he observes so far, it was confirmed from y/n since he recognised the neat calligraphy handwriting of hers. The letter wrote:
Dear my dearest love..Itoshi Rin,
If you receive this letter it means I'm no longer in this world, and if I ever hurt you during my last moments with you, please know that I do not mean it. I do apologise if my last moments with you were not the best moments. And if you said hurtful words to me during my last moments as well, I might take it at heart but I know deep down you don't mean it as well. If our last moment with each other end in an argument I'm so sorry...and if it did end in an argument then please know that it isn't you're fault my love.
I want you to know that even if I'm no longer near you..that doesn't mean I'm not watching over you. I promised you that I'll always be with you so I really am sorry that I didn't fulfill it till the end. Dear love...I will always love you even if we have our ups and downs..even if we have an argument no matter what I'll still love you. But my love..just because of my death that does not mean I want you to unhappy. I know it's not easy to move on but I don't want you to hold my death as a burden as its not you're fault.
I love you my love..forever and always. I swear not even death could kill my undying love for you.
Love you're dearest lover
Y/n L/n
Rin breathe out a wobbly sigh, "I've always asked 'why is it so cold?' But now I realised that it's because I don't have you're warmth to comfort me anymore..." rin continued to let out a chuckle to mock himself.
"If I could take it all back....I would, I guess life wanted to be unfair and maybe all this time my love, we were just not meant to be...but even so I have always loved you dear,"
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Reblogs are highly appreciated
Do not claim as you're own
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dialovers-translations · 10 months
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Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Laito [13]
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ー The scene starts in the forest
Laito: Haah, haah...
It doesn’t seem likeーー the others are following us. I guess we should be fine all the way out here.
Can I put you down?
Yui: S-Sure.
*Thud*
Yui: Uhm...Laito-kun? What exactly is going on? Wanting to escape the manor all of a sudden...
Laito: Don’t worry, I promise to explain everything. Both the things I did...as well as how we’ll move forward from here, okay?
Yui: Okay...
( He’ll actually tell me even though he’s been dead silent about it this whole time...? )
( He’ll finally tell me how he actually feelsーー )
Laito: I suppose I should apologize before that? ...I’m sorry for making you cry. It must have been inconvenient to be chained to the bed?
Yui: Ah, well, yeah...
Laito: Also, I must have hurt you pretty badly by saying that I didn’t care who you got together with.
Yui: ...Yup.
Laito: I’m sorry. But I don’t even want to think about giving you away to someone else.
Yui: Eh...?
( What did he...say just now...? )
Laito: Everything I did was in preparation of our escape.
Well, coming up with plans or strategies has never been my strong suit, you see. 
So when I tried to come up with something on my own, the only method I could think of was to stir up commotion.
Yui: Eh...? Escape...?
But I thought you didn’t mind living there...?
Laito: Right. I do think it’s not a bad option, but...
...Do you remember the time when I got my memories back?
Yui: Y-Yeah. When I got kidnapped by Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun, right?
ー A flashback ensues
Laito: You two...You’re trying to burn the wrong girl...
In the past...We ended that woman’s life...
Don’t you dareーー make that same mistake again with her.
ー The flashback ends
Yui: ( Kanato-kun threatened me with fire, which is when Laito-kun... )
Laito: Honestly, it was the worst possible way to remember. It gives me the shivers. 
If possible, I would have preferred for a sweet, heartfelt moment between the two of us to have been the trigger instead. 
Yui: It was a bad memory...from when you were young which ended up triggering it, right...?
( He’s speaking in a cheerful tone now, but back then, he seemed to be genuinely suffering... )
Laito: Still, due to that intense memory from the past, I was able to recall both you, as well as everything else...
I also realized that we had gotten caught up in some kind of odd situation. 
Back then, I did find myself thinking for a split second that perhaps this kind of life wasn’t too bad...
Yui: To live here at this place in this situation forever, you mean...?
Laito: Yup, exactly. Like I mentioned before, in the city we lived in before, we constantly kept running into problems, didn’t we?
Yet here I am not being tied down by anything, isn’t that great?
Yui: ( I understand. Why Laito-kun would prefer this lifestyle which is free from any constraints... )
Laito: ...But then I reconsidered and realized I couldn’t do that.
Yui: Eh...?
Laito: I mean, in this World, you’re the key to becoming the Supreme Overlord, no? Everyone will fight over you.
To me, the scariest thing imaginable...would be to lose you.
To be separated from you would be unbearable, more so than anything else.
Yui: ...!
Laito: I just want to have fun. That isn’t a lie. Howeverーー
Without you, my World is empty and gray.
I won’t...let anyone have you.
Yui: ( This is...Laito-kun speaking the truth. His true feelings he kept hidden inside this whole time... )
...I thought...
Laito: Eh?
Yui: I thought you had actually given up...
I thought about it the whole time while I was in your room...
That you actually didn’t care as long as you got to enjoy life...
and that you probably wouldn’t mind even if we were to become separated when Carla-san becomes the Supreme Overlordーー
This whole time...I was so scared.
Laito: ...You silly girl.
Yui: ( ...Ah... )
ー Laito embraces her
*Rustle*
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On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.
“Mmh. You can touch me even more. Confirm that I’m right here until you understand that I will never, ever give you up, okay?”
“There, there...I’m so sorry for scaring you?”
Laito: ...You really are a fool.
Yui: That’s easy for you to say. I swear I was actually really anxious...
Laito: Right. I guess I’m quite the fool as well for making my girlfriend worry like that.
But I couldn’t tell you any of this inside that manor, because who knows who could have been listening in on us.
Yui: Still, you didn’t have to go as far as to lock me away and attach a chain to me...
Laito: I guess that was a little much. But if I hadn’t done that, who knows when Kou or one of the others could have targeted you for your blood?
You always leave yourself wide open after all.
Yui: ( I can’t deny that... )
Laito: ...I’m sorry.
Rest assured now. There’s no way I’d risk losing you.
Yui: Okay...
Laito: Ahーah. You’re tearing up. You really are such a crybaby. 
Your eyes will become red and swollen again. ...Nn...
*Smooch*
Yui: S-Sorry...I didn’t mean to cry...
*Rustle*
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Laito: ...Don’t worry. You can cry all you want.
I’ll do this until you calm down.
Yui: ( His hand stroking my head feels so very nice... )
...Thank you.
Laito: ...You’re welcome.
Yui: ( I feel really at ease in his arms... )
( For the first time in a long while, I feel like I can let loose a little... )
*TIMESKIP*
*Rustle*
Laito: I guess you’ll be fine now?
Yui: Yeah. I’ve calmed down quite a bit thanks to you.
Laito: I’m glad that’s the case. Don’t hesitate to tell me when you want me to dote on you again, okay?
I’ll keep my arms wide open for you at all times, okay?
Yui: Fufu, gotcha.
( I can’t believe he still manages to act like his usual self despite the circumstances...Actually, I guess that’s normal. )
( I thought it was strange while I was chained inside the room as well. )
( How he could stay so calm while everyone could potentially be in a lot of danger. )
( I’m sure that was also...his way of showing kindness, as he didn’t want to burden me with it... )
Laito: Well then, the real challenge starts now. Carla completely messed up my plan after all.
Yui: Your plan? Right, you said you’ve been planning our escape this whole time. 
Laito: Exactly. At this rate, you’d have to become Carla’s. I wanted to prevent that, you see...
I volunteered to do the interrogations so it’d give me a chance to talk to everyone but none of them showed any signs of regaining their memories.
Yui: ...! That’s why you interrogated them?
Laito: Pretty much. But not even Ayato-kun or Kanato-kun got any closer to remembering.
For me, I would get those dizzy spells every time I sucked your blood, so it could be that it’s triggered that way...
Yui: In which case, they might remember if I have everyone drink my blood!?
Laito: Listen, do you really think I - as your boyfriend - would allow that?
Besides, with how violent they are in their current state, you might just get killed if you’re not careful.
Yui: Uu...
( That...sounds a little too familiar. )
Laito: In which case, there’s only one way to get out of this situation. We have to get out of the country.
Yui: Can we do that?
Laito: Who knows? I don’t know since I’ve never tried it. I have no idea where this country even is, or how big it is.
But, I’m sure you also realize that once we get out, the Supreme Overlord of some tiny, enclosed garden will mean nothing to us, right?
As long as we can get out, we’ll be able to release the others in no time as well.
Yui: We better hurry then. I’m sure that over at the manor, things are currentlyーー
Laito: Right. I wouldn’t want it to turn into a bloodbath. I strategically positioned Carla and had everyone gather together in the dungeon to prevent that from happening. 
It might have been the only thing I could think of to get us out of there...It’s still a sticky situation.
I guess brainwork is more Reiji’s field of expertise after all. I’m just not cut out for it.
Yui: No, that’s not true. You’ve been trying your hardest all by yourself this whole time.
Thank you...
Laito: I’m the one who should say that. You’re the one who continued to fight alone this whole time, no?
But from here on out, it’ll be us two against the World. 
Let’s escape this place together, Yui-chan.
Yui: ...Yeah!
Uhm...Laito-kun?
Selection
→ Sorry for doubting you (🖤)
Yui: I’m sorry for doubting you...I didn’t pick up on your plans at all.
Laito: Of course you didn’t. I deliberately chose my moves so not even you would realize.
Still, I had a hard time. Seems like I’m not cut out to come up with plans or strategies.
I guess each of us brothers has their own skills we should stick to.
Yui: Yeah...You’re right. That’s one more reason whyーー
Laito: We need the others to snap back to their senses and quick, right?
→ Thanks (♡)
Yui: Thanks. I felt happy when you said that you wouldn’t let anyone else have me.
Laito: Why of course. I’m the one who can’t survive without your love, honestly.
I promise that no matter what lies ahead of us, I won’t let go of your hand.
Yui: Laito-kun...
Laito: Just kidding~ But I pulled off those lines aplomb, didn’t I?
Yui: Fufu. Yeah! You did a great job!
Laito: Well then, let’s hit the road. I have no idea how long it’ll take us to get there though.
Yui: Where exactly are we headed? I know you said we’d leave these lands, but...
Laito: We are headed to what lies at the very border of these lands ーー To the end of the World.
Yui: The end of the World...? Is there a place like that?
Laito: Most likely. While I was gathering information from everyone under the guise of an interrogation, something similar came up.
This country is isolated. Nobody can come in from the outside, and we’re the only ones living in this confined space.
Yui: Now that you mention it, if this was the Demon or the human world, we could have very well run into someone by now...
It is strange how we haven’t met anyone for days, isn’t it?
Laito: Exactly. That’s why I believe we are trapped in here.
There are various manors on these lands, which surround the Church.
However, nobody has ever set foot inside the forest which lies beyond there.
Yui: In other words, if we make it to the other side of the forestーー
Laito: We might be able to get out.
Yui: Then, once we’re out...as long as we can find a way back home.
Then your siblings...as well as the others won’t have to fight, right?
Laito: There you have it.
I’m pretty sure chaos has broken loose inside the manor right now.
They’re tough cookies, so I doubt anyone will die, but you never know. 
Let’s find the way back home before things go south.
Yui: Yeah!
( Just you wait, everyone. I promise that we’ll find a way out of this mess...! )
Subaru: Hold it!
Yui: Eh?
Laito: ...Uh-oh. This is bad.
Subaru: ...So this is where you’ve been...
Yui: Subaru-kun!?
( They caught up to us already!? )
ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー
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thatonebirdwrites · 11 days
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Should I be working on finishing the Supergirl Mayhem fic? Yes. Did I finish all the art I was assigned? Also Yes. Do I feel like I should write this chapter as a little treat for having only three more scenes left in the mayhem fic? Also yes. So here we go. A chill chapter about cleansing magic. Truces, and maybe allowing healing and forgiveness to sprout its roots. The next chapter will be Kara and Lena's first date! (Finally! it kept getting postponed.)
EXCERPT:
Lena rises before dawn, prepares her corporate armor, and heads to her full-time job as CEO of L-Corp. Today’s agenda includes three meetings, an hour of lab time, a brief lunch, and a visit to Florence in late afternoon. 
It’s the visit with Florence that troubles her the most. The exposure to the strange artifact gave her unsettling dreams, and she woke in a cold sweat after a particularly gruesome one. In that dream, she’d had no control over her body, and could only watch in horror as another person used her body and golden energy to harm all she loved.
Kara had woken too, or maybe she’d never actually slept. Lena recalled how Kara admitted to not really needing it. Either way, she’d helped calm Lena down by counting breaths with her until Lena’s heart slowed, and her vision no longer swam.
“You feeling better?” Kara gently brushes hair from Lena’s face. It’s moments like this, when she’s feeling vulnerable and shaken, that Kara’s touch turns extra careful. She’s always so careful with Lena, her affection so measured, and now Lena can see it’s because of her superpowers.
“A little,” Lena says, quietly. As she shivers from her nightmare, she zeroes in on the uncertainty in Kara’s expression. As if she doesn’t know exactly what to do. Lena is nothing if not perceptive, and focusing on Kara pushes the horror of the dream into a box to peruse later. 
She buries her fingers in Kara’s luxurious locks and scratches the base of Kara’s skull. The feel of Kara’s skin — soft and yet not — grounds her. Kara’s scent is jasmine tonight, likely because of Lena’s own conditioner since Kara’s had been out of hers. It’s something she noticed the first time Kara invited her over — how Kara prefers little to no scents unless it’s jasmine or sandalwood. Likely due to her sensory issues. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kara asks. Like she always has. Always willing to give Lena space to share or not share. 
“It’s just a nightmare,” Lena deflects. “Not real.” 
“Nightmares often reflect something that scares us,” Kara replies. “I know for mine it’s about loss of my planet, of those I love. Being trapped in the phantom zone again, being in an enclosed space unable to get out.” 
Lena breathes out a pained breath. It hurts to hear the trauma Kara carries within her. “I dreamed of all of you dying because of me.”
Again Kara’s fingertips are light and soft against her cheeks. “That sounds terrifying. What would help you feel better?”
It’s been a long while since they’d done the poetry sharing tradition. Not since the weeks before Kara’s confession. Lena had been unwilling to keep it up, caught up in her troubling thoughts, going over all their past interactions numerous times until she felt she would go mad, and then the moment of Kara’s death. The moment Lena resurrected her with magic. 
Going back to this tradition feels strange but also comforting. Like an old glove pulled on finally in the midst of biting cold. “Share a poem you’ve read recently.” 
“Are you sure?” Kara looks worried. 
Lena nods. “It helps.” 
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vestaclinicpod · 9 months
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Audio Drama Sunday - 13th August ✨
Happy #AudioDramaSunday, lovely people! I’ve listened to so much audio drama this week and my house is so clean as a result 🫧 
SPOILERS BELOW!
🌲@hellofromthehallowoods Starcrossed Gods!! I felt so brave daring to listen to this again. My heart 💔 Marolmar is written so well! Every sentence contains something to flinch at, it makes me sick to hear it all again. I’d also repressed the memory of how gut-wrenching Nikignik’s shouting at the end was, and how much it hurts to hear people trying to sing with a closed up throat. ANYWAY, I’m fine, thank you for asking. I’m not sure if the live show was released early due to logistical reasons, but I am fearful that it’s to provide context for what’s about to happen in the regular episodes (AKA tears and tears and tears for me). 
🦀 What an absolute delight to hear from the @thesiltverses cast again! These season recaps are so funny and it’s so heart warming to hear it when the cast of a show are clearly also its biggest fans. I’m SO excited for S3!!
🦮 @malevolentcast (34) what an episode!! If I recall correctly, this is the first time we’ve had an episode entirely without Arthur & John’s perspective? The Butcher is a worthy character to hold that mantle. Do I feel like I understand him more? No. Did I love being along for the ride? Absolutely. It’s also so weird to hear Arthur talking to John out loud when he thinks no-one can hear. I hope he makes it out in time! 
📻 @monstrousagonies (107) So thrilled to have this show back and I hope Hero is feeling much better! The first letter was so cute!! I’m sure there are lots of us who can relate to choosing love and kindness when we’re used to the opposite! Whichever bridge that little one finds, I’m sure it’ll be the loveliest by far!! 
🌒 @monkeymanproductions gave us the low-down on just how incredibly talented the Moonbase Theta, Out cast are in their Cast Special. Spoiler: Very. It was very wholesome to hear DJ Sylvis hyping everyone up and the episode is full of great AD and other recommendations! 
🎙Welcome to Night Vale is back!! I felt particularly targeted by the ad copy in this episode, but I’m sure that was their intention! This ep’s weather was particularly up my street too! I loved the harmonies! 
🎞 Tiny Terrors OOF hey so I found out what was up with Angela… and I didn’t like it one bit! I also need to know what the hell was happening at the end there. Jess, girl, you’ve got to stop getting yourself in these situations. It’s too much (for me to listen to)! 
🌍 @lastechoespod (8) I can’t believe it’s the last episode! Ishani Kanetkar was wonderful as Trast. I wish we could hear the final decision, but I guess I’ll just have to relisten and try decide for myself . . . 
🧛‍♂️ @re-dracula Uhoh, someone’s arrived in Whitby . . . I love Mina so much and Isabel AdomakohYoung is doing amazing job as her VA. She captures the good-hearted intelligence I love so much about the character!
 💫 Wolf 359 (38-46 + Special!) Oh MAN this podcast has my entire heart. Isn’t Memoria one of the best episodes of anything ever? Oh, Hera, I love you sooo much!!!!! I also loved the Lovelace cliffhanger at the end of 46 and the special was so different but so good! (Although listening to 2 hours of anything is a challenge!! I need a 20-30 min ep or I can’t fit it into my life) 
🎩 @ethicstownpod (7) OH MY GOD. January fans are looking a little bit bloody silly right now! What. The. Hell. Is. Going. On???? Please, if you haven’t yet started listening to this show, now is your time! It’s SO good and has so many twists and turns!! 
🥾@doyoucopypod (5) oh my GOD, imagine how horrifying it would be to be out in the woods to grieve your partner, only to hear their voice in the middle of the night. Nope. Absolutely not. Get out of the dead zone!! Wilson remains the goodest boy, even if his growls give me goosebumps! 
🎧 In this week’s The First Episode Of, W Keith Tims talks to the creator of Untrue Stories! These interviews are always fantastic and this show sounds so interesting for fans of sci-fi!! 
Thanks for reading! I’m so excited for more Regina Prime and to catch up with happenings in the Hallowoods next week! Hope you all have a restful weekend ✨
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mostlydeadallday · 10 months
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Lost Kin || Chapter XXXIV || A Mixed Blessing
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Fandom: Hollow Knight Rating: Mature Characters: Hornet, Pure Vessel | Hollow Knight, Quirrel Category: Gen Content Warnings: referenced abuse, panic attacks AO3: Lost Kin | Chapter XXXIV | A Mixed Blessing First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chronological Notes: Apologies for the late update! Next one will likely be another month out, due to aforementioned Activities. I nearly finished another chapter—it needs a few final paragraphs, but I went "eh, good enough" and decided to upload anyway. Hollow is actually onto something important here; bonus points if you can tell what it is. It ties into the worldbuilding post I've been meaning to make... maybe someday soon.
They talked late into the night.
Or, rather, Quirrel talked. Asking questions, offering suggestions, building plans that Hornet hesitantly approved or dismissed. She felt worn nearly through, coherent thought gradually leaking from her grasp as the hours went on—until Quirrel seemed to notice that she had not replied to any of his questions for at least a quarter hour, sitting with her chin propped in her hand and staring into the lantern until her eyes hurt, attempting to keep herself awake.
He insisted on stopping then, although once she ushered him upstairs to let him take his pick of the abandoned rooms and came back down with another two pillows for her own bed, she was wide awake again. She lay on the hearth, listening to the barely audible sounds Quirrel made while settling in for the night. Once those died away, she stared into the dark, where the pale arc of her sibling’s horns was just visible, timing the space between each inhale, tracing the sprawled lines of them again and again, as if she could imprint them into the world, keep them alive by her determination alone.
Quirrel had been forthright about her chances of restoring Hollow to health. So much was unknown, and what he did know was not promising. He had said, however, that he was operating on his knowledge of infected mortals, that his memory pertaining to vessels was faulty at best. Hollow had already defied the odds, and they had the lineage of three gods on their side.
He had also said a great deal more than that, but Hornet remembered little of it.
Thankfully, she had what he had written down for her: an immediate plan for further communication with Hollow, a set of questions to ask them when they woke, and a few signs to add to their vocabulary. She’d laid the pages in front of her while she slept and woke to them crumpling in her hand as she panted silently, body quivering, mind still in the grip of a nightmare that she could not remember.
She’d never had this many, this often. Night after night, she woke feeling like she couldn’t breathe. Night after night, she had to drag her own name back out of the darkness, out of the clinging, grasping fear that wanted to make an animal of her.
And waking was a mixed blessing, when every nightmare fear that faded was replaced with a real one that she could not ignore.
Hornet loosened her fist, releasing the paper, and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Every nerve sang, her body ringing like a struck gong. Her heartbeat drummed at double speed. She wanted to throw open the door and disappear, fling out skein after skein of soul-silk, fly all the way to Greenpath without her feet ever touching the ground.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t.
A soft noise slipped out of her mouth—a groan of disappointment. No louder than the papers crinkling, but she still looked over to make sure Hollow hadn’t woken.
They hadn’t. Nothing stirred, not even when she lifted her head to listen for sounds upstairs. The light was yet low, and no one in the house was awake but her.
The thought made her want to groan again. How long would she have to lie here, dreading the coming day, mired in memories of the night before? Recalling every crack in her control, every choked breath and faltering word that had surely told Quirrel more than she ever wanted him to know about her?
He hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to leave. In fact, he seemed more determined to help than ever—and she, more than ever, was regretting it.
Why couldn’t she have turned him away at the door? Reassured him that she did not need what he’d offered? She’d have preferred the empty house, the silence, to this low thrum of anxiety that had crawled inside her shell with her.
When her breathing calmed, her heart slowing, and the restlessness still did not fade, she stood, swallowing another complaint as her aching limbs protested. Still sore from her reckless flight, lack of sleep compounding the pain. She shouldn’t complain, not when Hollow’s battle wounds had yet to heal, but she mouthed an oath as she stretched, two of her backplates giving a muffled crack like splintering ice.
In the kitchen, the lumaflies roused as soon as she opened the lantern’s shutter. Though she was not hungry, she ate the third and last tiktik from the night before, cleaning her fangs and placing the empty shell with the others. She pointedly ignored the pile of supplies on the table and the neat sheaf of notes Quirrel had taken, bringing only the lantern with her—the beam of light narrowed to a slit—as she returned to the main room. The thought of more mending made her neck and fingers ache, but it was productive, time-consuming, and would not wake her sibling.
And, more to the point, it kept her from snatching up her needle and bolting out the door.
It was over an hour before anything interrupted her, and the sound was so soft she nearly missed it: a thump directly overhead, as of something hitting the floor.
Hornet jumped, then scowled, relaxing the muscles at the back of her neck that wanted to raise her spikes into the air. After a moment, she looked down and forced herself to keep working, motivated by a vague sense that it would be strange for Quirrel to come down the stairs and catch her staring.
Head lowered, she tracked his footsteps across the ceiling, past the washroom and onto the landing, ignoring the part of her that wanted to shove the fabric aside and grip her sewing needle like a dagger, to stand and face the threat head-on.
Not a threat. Or at least, not the kind she was used to. She might be more than half feral, but she didn’t have to act like it.
She waited until he’d descended the first flight and was three steps into the second before she lifted her eyes.
He halted, that hand once more creeping back toward his empty belt, before he deliberately relaxed. “Good morning.”
Hornet glanced at her sibling, but they did not stir; Quirrel had only spoken just above a whisper. Rather than replying, she nodded to him, then went back to her work. Polite enough, she thought; no need to waste words.
All of her etiquette classes seemed ridiculously far away.
Quirrel did not seem to mind.
She watched from the corner of her eye as he ducked into the entryway to retrieve his nail. They had agreed last night that he would take the opportunity to hunt in the morning, both for her and himself, as well as scavenge the other houses for more paper—he’d used nearly all of her stash—and some proper pencils. She would have Hollow practice their signs while he was gone and then ask some of the questions he’d suggested the night before. Hopefully, their anxiety would be reduced in his absence, allowing them to answer her more easily.
Quirrel stepped back into the room, nail and satchel at his side, kerchief tied on over his head. Hornet hesitated, then set her work aside and stood to lock the door behind him.
“Thank you.” He shivered as he stepped out into the rain. “I’ll try not to be long.”
She nodded again. He said nothing else, though his mandibles twitched beneath his mask with the beginnings of a smile.
 Annoyance pricked beneath her shell, and she shut the door before he could walk away. Then she pressed her back against it, as if to keep him from coming back in, and exhaled with a groan.
Oh, this was going well.
It blinked awake.
The light was bluer.
This was a strange observation to make, perhaps especially so just after waking, but undoubtedly true. There was a slice of brighter light on the wall, a flickering brightness as changeable as water, emanating from a small metal box on the hearth. A lantern.
That had not been here before.
Something had woken it, however, and it was not the light.
The vessel lay still, memories flitting just out of reach. It knew if it waited, they would settle and return, although they seemed to take longer than they should, and it did not know why it knew that.
Its sister was not in the room.
Her hands stroking its back, her voice commanding it to sleep—
—the stranger, watching, watching, watching—
A sound by the door, a flash of color it could not fully see. It shifted, minutely, in the way it had learned to, and the building pressure in its chest loosened. Not the stranger. Only its sister, although to describe her as only its sister was a disservice; she was so much more than that. Warrior, princess, heir of the kingdom that it had destroyed—
And gentle. Compassionate. Merciful, in a way that belied her cool exterior, for how could she be all that she seemed and still be kind to a thing like the vessel?
She noticed it staring. Impolite, but how could it not stare at her? How could it not?
“Oh,” she said. Something in her posture eased, like a fist unclenching. “I’m sorry to wake you.” She gestured behind herself, toward the entry to the house. “Quirrel has gone to hunt. He will return later.”
A knot of emotion pulled tight within it. She could wake it whenever she pleased, and she did not need to tell it that her ally had left, but she persisted in apologizing, in giving it information that it shouldn’t need, that it shouldn’t be grateful for.
It was, nonetheless.
She approached it, knelt beside it, murmured something about it looking cramped. It had, indeed, fallen asleep in a less-than-ideal position, as its hand was currently numb, but that was incidental; its discomfort did not matter. Once again, however, she asked for it to move, to make itself comfortable, and although this was something it was unfamiliar with, it tried to do as she asked.
It settled back. As the pain rose and then ebbed, Hornet half-watched it, the tips of her claws just visible under the drape of her cloak, worrying at a catch in the fabric.
“I—” she began, and then stopped.
Tension wrapped around it once again. It was not like her to be indecisive. Whatever was to come was bound to panic it once more, and had she not just asked for the opposite?
Questioning its wielder. The vessel had grown far too careless, if that seemed reasonable. It must obey. Submit, fully, completely, to any orders she might give it, if it was ever to have another chance at usefulness.
“I know that… yesterday,” Hornet said, slowly enough that its heartbeat had time to lurch and then calm in the pause between her words, “I expected you to ask before I touched you.”
Its breath stopped.
Finally, it was happening. Finally, she would condemn it for what it had done. For the small actions taken, the slender cracks that attested to its deeper flaws—the fear, the need—that were now plain to see beneath the surface.
She had said she needed to speak with Quirrel the night before. After it fell into sleep, she might have told him anything. Everything. Perhaps her ally had made it plain that there was no salvaging the vessel’s ruined shell. That she should rid herself of it, remove the danger to herself and to the world—
“I realize now that that expectation may not be sustainable.” Its sister looked down at her claws and forced them still, though not without a sigh. “I will have to finish cleaning your wounds, and there may be other instances where I must touch without you asking.”
This—
This did not make sense.
It was not built to need context, to infer intent or interpret complex orders. Yet as long as its sister insisted on interacting with it like this, she would force it to use its ill-begotten mind to comprehend her desires.
Did she know? Was this her goal, to determine the extent of its intellect? To understand just how fully it had been corrupted, how deep its failures really went?
It pushed its chest to rise, made its lungs expand, that she might not notice its distress. She had not liked when it stopped breathing before. It should at least attempt to not upset her, if it couldn’t manage not to upset itself.
The effort drew her attention, and its next breath stuttered as her gaze sharpened. Before it could press back the building panic, she raised her hand, and her words were suddenly clearer, precise and clean-edged as calligraphy. “You have done no wrong. I am only informing you of a change in my methods.”
How could it not be in the wrong? How could she pretend to accept the wretched thing it had become?
And it was questioning her. Again.
Where was the vessel that had once waited in perfect stillness for its orders? Where was the numb patience it had once been capable of, those first days and weeks within the temple? How had it broken so thoroughly?
Its sister looked down at it, fangs twisting in distress. Distress that it had brought about, with its failure. Distress that—
Her hand was on its arm, her fingers warm against its shell. “Listen to me. Unless I tell you to lie still, you need not endure any touch you find objectionable, including this one. You may pull away, from myself or anyone else, if you wish.” She squeezed its arm, gently, her claws closing around it, and then lifted her hand away. “There. I am finished; there is nothing else.”
It—
It could—
No.
The thought that it might defy her will, might acknowledge and express a desire contrary to hers, might ever want badly enough that it would dare to pull away from her—
No, this was a thing it would not do.
It simply would not.
A cold dread crept over its shell. The last time it had sworn not to do something, it had broken that oath in mere days. It was faithless; its word meant nothing. It could not know what it might do. It could not know that it would not do this.
What would be the consequences for such a thing? Was this another test? Would its sister abandon it, or finally give it the death it deserved?
It was unimaginable that she might do nothing.
Unimaginable, and yet—
—why would she say this, if—
No. Enough. These were dangerous thoughts, thoughts it was surely not meant to have, for it was never meant to think to begin with. Its sister deserved obedience, though it cost everything the vessel had.
She was watching it, it realized. Gauging the effect of her words. Perhaps waiting for an answer. Should it answer? Should it use one of the signs she had given it to indicate understanding? What did she want of it?
Vaguely, the vessel felt that its current state could very generously be described as a mess.
Its sister—gods below, its sister knew.
She reached for it again, this time for its hand—half-clenched, trembling—and pressed its fingers open. Not to guide it into any sign, but simply to lay her palm into the vessel’s, small fingers and fine claws lacing with its own.
It lay still. Fear was, suddenly, the farthest thing from it; it felt as though it had been given something precious, something unfit for it to take, a delicate bloom trapped between its talons. It could feel her heartbeat, swift and strong, in the vein beneath her palmpads, and the faint hum of soul below her shell.
It would give her everything.
Did she know? How could it tell her?
It would die for her.
Well. She had obviously accomplished something.
What, exactly, that something was eluded her.
Hollow had stopped shaking. That counted as progress. The stare they were currently giving her, however, was right on the edge of unnerving. The tension in their hand, as their fingers curled slightly to hold her own between them, just shy of brushing her knuckles with their claws—she did not know what to make of that.
But they had not pulled away from her.
She knew they understood. They would not have reacted so if they didn’t. Or perhaps she was wrong, and this was nothing but utter confusion, and she hadn’t accomplished anything at all.
And since she had so handily trapped them, she could not even ask for confirmation. She had all but clapped a hand over their mouth, rendering them as mute as when they met.
Not that they would likely choose to speak to her, whether she let go, or whether they pulled free—though this had all been in service of giving permission for them to do exactly that, if they wished.
Apparently, they did not. Their grip was tightening on her hand, so slowly that she wasn’t even sure they knew they were doing it, and the pressure was absurdly light, as though they feared her shell would shatter.
Well, she appreciated the sentiment.
It was a fight, every time she had the urge to comfort them, not to ignore it. It took her back to her days in the Palace, watching them spar in practice and in tournaments, watching them take injuries that would cripple a lesser fighter. The way her breath had hissed past her fangs, her hands tightening on the balcony, as the Pure Vessel tore through scores of kingsmoulds like a scythe through dry grass, rank upon rank closing in until her sibling was limping badly, dripping void and leaking soul, and still never faltering, pushing on and on until her father finally—finally—called a halt.
And the next time she saw them, they would be whole, healed, as still and silent as ever, with new scars marking their shell.
Those events had been tests of her mettle, as much as they had been of her sibling’s. She had felt the Pale King’s gaze upon her as the blows rained down, waiting for her to flinch, watching for doubt.
She’d learned to hide those twinges of empathy. To bury them so deep that she could deny she’d ever felt them at all.
It was like opening an old wound, now, to unearth them again. Like cutting into a scar. But she would do it, for them. She would.
She could start small. Both of them were unused to this—giving comfort or receiving it. Much as she wished she could take every burden from their shoulders, this would have to suffice for the moment.
“Good,” she whispered, running her thumb up the side of their hand. “Good, Hollow. Be calm. There’s nothing to fear.”
A twitch ran through their fingers at that, though nothing else changed. She continued stroking their hand, watching for any indication that she should stop—she didn’t trust them to take her at her word, to allow themselves to challenge her, but Quirrel had agreed that it was important that she lay the groundwork and mark out exactly where they stood.
His suggestions had been helpful already, she had to grudgingly admit. And it had been like a long breath of clean air to have someone to listen to her, whether she made good use of that opportunity or not. She felt a little less out of her mind, now, after speaking to someone who could answer. Who could examine all the jumbled pieces she spilled on the table and begin to fit them together, in ways that both confirmed and challenged her own conclusions.
That did not mean she had stopped regretting having asked for it.
Quirrel. Who knew how much time she had left before he returned. She should be putting this time to good use, not idling it away.
Without letting go, she twisted round and retrieved the wrinkled pages with her free hand, then spread them out on her lap, still with Hollow’s hand in hers.
Or rather, her hand in theirs. There was no way to hold their hand that did not result in hers being completely engulfed. Not that she minded, as long as they continued to hold it so carefully. Gingerly, never so much as letting their claws touch her, maintaining the precise amount of pressure necessary to keep her fingers from slipping free.
Unfortunately, her next task would require letting go. Though if it had helped as much as it seemed to, perhaps she could find an excuse to come back to it later.
“I’d like to have you practice the signs I’ve already taught you,” she said. “Just as we did before.”
No reaction from her sibling, at least not one she could see. She lifted their hand, briefly clasping it in both of her own to feel the solidness of it, the cool weight and minute roughness of their grip. Then she placed it on their stomach, withdrawing her touch with a final squeeze of their fingers.
Was she doing this right? She hoped—oh, she hoped what she saw in them was calm, and not apathy, or terror so complete that it held them still in its thrall. They seemed to respond well to being touched and held while she spoke to them; they had not panicked nearly as much as she expected. She could only wish that she had come to this conclusion earlier, rather than holding herself apart out of misplaced concern or awkwardness.
And it was awkward, still. But that was nothing. She could tolerate awkward, if what Quirrel said was true, if they stood to gain so much with so little effort.
She did not want to overwhelm them, which might put their new permission to pull away from her to the test, but if they became stressed during practice—which she did not doubt they would—she would attempt to calm them before continuing, rather than push through until they broke.
Neither one of them, she suspected, wanted a repeat of yesterday.
Oh, what had she been thinking? She could hardly have invented a better way to terrify them. Many of her own lessons had ended with her holding back tears, out of frustration at her own ignorance and the unfairness of what her tutors were asking of her. Not all of them had made her feel that way, but… enough.
And now it seemed she was doomed to mimic her own worst examples.
At least she’d had the solace of wishing all kinds of imaginary carnage on the tutors she liked the least. If she were to venture a guess, Hollow had no such inclinations.
Or, at least, she hoped not.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll start at the beginning. When I say the word, repeat the sign I taught you.”
Their hand still shook as they moved through the signs, but not as much as she’d come to expect. It was easier to praise them, then, easier to sound like she meant it.
Progress. This might be real progress, and it almost felt too good to be true.
She reached forward when they finished reciting what they’d learned, laying a hand on their wrist while the tension slowly drained and they lay limp, staring at her in what seemed like distracted bewilderment.
That bewilderment was likely warranted. She’d never been affectionate, especially not when they came to know her. Before then, she remembered only hazy scenes from her childhood, before she could walk or climb, of being passed from one set of sturdy arms to another, or lifted up to cling to a shoulder or back as the spiders and Weavers took turns working and holding her. She had not sought that out once she outgrew it, and certainly not once she was taken to Hallownest. The Deepnest taint clung to her shell like a stuck molt, awkward and ugly, and she had been angry enough to reject any attempts at companionship, had anyone made any.
She had also been too busy causing havoc, at first. Working herself deeper and deeper into her father’s side like a thorn, half-hoping he would pluck her out and cast her away, give her back to the family she could never have again—not now that her mother was sworn as a Dreamer, not now that the Weavers planned to leave Hallownest. It could never be the same now, but that did not stop her from wanting it.
And then she’d given up, at last, and that had been the end of it. She’d accepted the role he placed on her, set foot on the path that had brought her here, and now she was stroking her sibling’s shell awkwardly, and hoping that the confusion this elicited was somehow a step forward.
In any case, it was likely better than terror.
“I have a few new signs for you,” she said, leaning back. “This is ‘sometimes.’”
Following Quirrel’s suggestions, she taught them former and latter, as well as other, signs that would be necessary to answer the questions he’d hoped to ask them. She added Quirrel, a twist of the fingers at the chin, denoting the beaded tassel on his kerchief. By then, her sibling was wheezing audibly, and their gestures had become more stilted as their hand and arm slowly seized and that strange, strained tension returned, as if they were simultaneously attempting to obey her and trying not to move.
This time, it took longer to fade, and she spent a silent few minutes rubbing her hand up and down their arm, listening to the whistle in their lungs grow fainter and die out as they relaxed.
“Well done,” she murmured when they were quiet again. “Thank you. I know I am asking… much of you.”
The confusion was back—if she was reading them right, and she wasn’t certain of that. But if she had to guess at the look they were giving her, it was somehow conveying complete bafflement without shifting an inch.
Hornet swallowed down something that hurt, something angry and inadvisable, and it burned like a hot coal in her stomach.
I am not our father.
I do not expect perfection.
I want this for you.
I want you to live.
Having said that to Quirrel the night before, she could not now forget it. She hadn’t even thought as much to herself—since learning Hollow was alive, she hadn’t dared to imagine a goal at the end of all this. She owed her life and more to them; after she had wiped out so many of their kind in stupid, blind obedience, the least she could do was offer her time and her hands and her company. She had no right to expect anything, whether protection or gratitude or companionship.
But if it was necessary to establish a purpose to work toward, it would be this, and only this.
They had been born as a sacrifice. They had given everything for their father’s plan. And even now, they were obedient to him, as best they could be—though some unknown, misplaced devotion drove them to heed her. Even when her orders clashed with her father’s, throwing out sparks like crossed blades.
She glanced out the window, past the rain tapping steadily at the glass. It had been over an hour, and Quirrel would likely be back soon. She didn’t wish to stress them much further, given what the rest of the day would hold. But they had responded well to her attempts to calm them, and she was curious; the chance to hold a real conversation with her sibling, fragmented though it would be, was too tempting to ignore.
The questions Quirrel had left her included a few that she could be relatively certain they would answer. She skipped over the questions about their pain—though she would have to ask those again, eventually.
Instead, she paused the motion along their arm, only rubbing one thumb over a seam in their elbow, her claw clicking softly across the gap between the plates. Their attention was on her already—it had never left—but she did not wish to distract them.
“I will not be upset if you cannot answer. For any reason,” she began. “But I would like for you to practice using the new signs. And these questions may help me understand how to move forward.”
Perhaps only because she was paying close attention, she noticed the shift as their arm tightened—and then relaxed—beneath her hand. Something indefinable swelled in her throat, something bitter and bloody. Sympathy. Guilt. She didn’t know.
They were trying. They were trying so hard to give her what she wanted, fighting every moment against their own fear, and as much as she wished she could avoid it, or take it from them altogether, the only way forward she could see was to push through.
She took her hand from their arm, so they would not need to pull away from her to sign, and waited.
“Are you able to read or write?” A simple question first, a question that would hopefully not distress them, but could be used to test their understanding with a specific method of answer. “Answer with ‘former’ or ‘latter’ if only one is true, ‘yes’ for both, or ‘no’ for neither.”
They considered this. Calmly, thank the gods. She gave them a moment; this was the first time she had offered this many possible answers to a question, although she suspected she already knew the answer. Still, they might surprise her.
The answer came hesitantly; if they could speak, the word would have been only a murmur. No.
She tilted her head, acknowledging. “As I thought. It is no matter.” It would have made communication easier, but not significantly so, when she could think of no comfortable way for them to write while confined to their bed. Perhaps that could be remedied once they were stronger, although she thought Quirrel far more suited as a literacy teacher than she was.
The next question was more important, and simpler still. “Are you colder or warmer than you should be? Answer with ‘former,’ ‘latter,’ or ‘no,’ if neither is true.”
As questions went, this one also seemed unthreatening. It was not related to their pain, and she assumed they would have a good sense of their natural body temperature. If Quirrel was right, then it was possible Hollow’s fever had still not completely broken.
And perhaps she could finally find out whether they needed a blanket.
The answer, when it came, was shaky, delayed, and disappointing, and she could not have been happier to see it.
Latter.
Too warm, still. She would have to do something about that—draining the rest of the infection, first and foremost. The thought made her gut turn over, with both nausea and giddy relief that they were listening and answering her.
They were starting to lock up now, shoulder creeping up toward their neck, jaw clenching tight. “Good,” she breathed, realizing too late that she’d gone too long saying nothing. “Good. I am glad to know that. Thank you.”
Glad?
She was—
Why was she glad?
That it was still too warm, its body still rebelling against its father’s design, was an unmitigated failure. It was a consequence of the infection in its veins, a consequence of weakness, something that should never have happened. The void within it should have stripped it so empty, hollowed it so completely, that it never knew anything but the numbness and the chill and the dark silence of the sea.
She should be ashamed of it. She should be disappointed. She should not be trying to thank it.
This did not appear to dissuade her in the least.
“I would like to know if you have needs I’ve not been able to meet.” She touched it as she spoke, her hand once more coming to rest on its arm, gliding up to the top of its shoulder and back. It could not help the way its tension bled away under her touch, though it should have felt nothing whatsoever.
She knew this. And yet she persisted.
“Although I know I have asked this before, I need to be sure I know the correct answer.” Hornet paused, chewing over her question, still absently petting its shell. “You’ve said you don’t require food. But I do not know precisely what that means.”
Ah. It had not answered well enough, the first few times she asked it. Given that it had never been intended to speak, perhaps that was allowable—
But no. A flaw was a flaw, and it was meant to be flawless. Since it could speak, it was obliged to do so with the precision and excellence that were required of it elsewhere.
“You do not need food to survive. Is this true? Answer with ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”
This answer was an easy one, but it hesitated. Sister’s hand was still on its arm, and it did not mean to defy her, but while she wished to touch it, it should not express otherwise—
And she realized that an instant later, and withdrew.
The rising fear retreated, slowly, but its answer was still shaky.
Yes.
“Although you do not need it to survive, would consuming food aid your body in healing?”
It knew the answer to this as well, but as its hand rose, it hesitated.
During its training, it had been injured severely. Not often, for it was a unique creation, too valuable to risk. But its father walked a delicate line; if it had not been thoroughly tested and hardened for battle, it could not have been judged fit to contain the infection. He had methods of healing beyond the reach of scholars and mages, but on a few occasions, his magic had not been enough to restore it.
He had taken it to his workshop, then, and laid it down on the table where it had been shaped and molded, its present form wrought from the softness of a nymph by the sharp intent of its father’s magic. He had retrieved a container, and given it to the vessel, and instructed it in what to do.
It still recalled the sensation of the void pouring down its throat, the thickness of it, the blank absence of any smell or flavor, the stirring within its guts as the liquid joined with what already existed within, absorbing cleanly until there was nothing left but the vessel itself, whole again, and strong.
Void was not food. Void was poison, an endless dark that consumed what it touched, that winked out mortal lives like candles.
That was likely not what its sister meant. A vessel consuming more of the substance that formed it could not be defined as eating, any more than void could be defined as food.
It had hesitated too long. Its sister was growing impatient, tilting her head in confusion, searching its eyes for any hint of an answer forming, and it froze.
But she said only, “My words were… imprecise, perhaps. Disregard that question,” and then sat thinking, as its breathing grew lighter again and the taut set of its shoulders eased.
With a sharp sigh, she spoke again. “I do not know what vessels are able to eat, or what substances would be beneficial to consume. Do you eat any of the things someone such as Quirrel or myself would?”
Relief rushed through it, though numbing fear followed close on its heels. She understood the true reason for its hesitation. She saw it, its flaws, its limitations and its defects. It must be truly lacking, for such a simple thing to seize hold of it and prevent it from answering. To force its sister to repeat herself, to rephrase her questions in order to accommodate its fractured mind.
No, it should not be relieved to have its flaws made known. It should be ashamed—or it should feel nothing. It should not have flaws, let alone the very ability to feel, and it should be trying to hide these facts from her, to bury them, not put them on display, not reveal them so clearly that she made allowances for it—
Wrong wrong wrong wrong—
If it did not answer now, it would soon be unable to, it realized. The pressure was growing in its chest again, a weight of panic like lack of air underwater.
The sign was rushed this time, and too short, too sharp, in its haste to give its sister what she wanted.
No.
Its vision was hazing white at the edges already, its breaths beginning to become gasps, and it clenched its teeth, forcing its chest to rise, forcing its throat to open, while the sound from its battered lungs rose into a harsh, fluttering keen.
She could certainly see its flaws now.
There was another sound. Another weight against it. Another hand within its own again, warm and steady where it trembled. Its sister was so small, her touch so light, and yet her every whim captured its attention completely.
Its next exhale shook and shuddered, and she reached up with her free hand, laying her palm beneath its eye, and her fangs chattered softly, a gentle, steady sound like breezes through its mother’s leaves, a sound meant to soothe, to calm and comfort hatchlings in the shell.
It blinked, and wheezed, and clenched her hand more tightly.
“Shh, Hollow.” She leaned against it more firmly where she’d settled, climbing onto the bed and pressing herself into its side, and it did not deserve this, had done nothing to earn this, had done everything wrong, and to her, it seemed, that did not matter. “Shh.”
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username8746489 · 2 months
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What would you think if Chloe and Audrey heard rumours about the way they were going to be portrayed in Astruc’s new movie, so they went back to Paris in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the movie from being completed? Then an evilized villain (maybe a wishmaker-like villain or maybe even a villain that's unrelated to the butterfly miraculous) caused Chloe and Zoe to switch bodies somehow, and nobody fully understands what's going on, so Zoe (in Chloe's body) is taken by Audrey back to New York, despite Zoe desperately trying to explain things. But Chloe enters a fugue state (heavily due to trauma caused by the neglect of her parents) and genuinely thinks she's Zoe, and is even able to recall many of the things Zoe did due to being in Zoe's body. The class thinks “Zoe's” change in behavior is due to the psychological effects of method acting, since “Zoe” is playing Chloe in Astruc's new movie, but they gradually convince “Zoe” to let them help her relearn how to be “herself�� again.
Zoe is not able to gain access to Chloe's memories while in Chloe's body, because unlike Chloe, Zoe knows she's in the wrong body. In New York, Zoe is trying to get back to Paris, but when she gets there, “Zoe” thinks she’s there to try to hurt Marinette. Eventually, after listening to “Chloe”, Marinette starts to suspect that “Chloe” might be telling the truth, so she decides that she must test “Chloe” and “Zoe”. She fakes being in danger to see how they react. “Zoe” reacts slightly faster than “Chloe”, so Marinette comes to the conclusion that “Chloe” is lying and that “Chloe” has an evil and manipulative plan. Marinette thinks that “Chloe” must have picked up a few tricks from Lila, because she thinks no version of Chloe could possibly react faster than Zoe when it comes to protecting her. So Audrey takes “Zoe” back to New York again to “correct” her after “Zoe” fails to convince anyone of the truth.
10 years later, “Zoe” gets seriously injured after fighting a villain when Ladybug isn’t around, which causes “Zoe” to not have long to live. Then Ladybug accidentally stumbles upon the truth about “Zoe” while trying to help “Zoe” using magical powers. Ladybug decides that the moral thing to do is to switch Chloe and Zoe back to their original bodies. Once Zoe gets her body back, she blames Chloe for her impending death and for leaving her with 10 years of loneliness, while Chloe got off scot-free. When Lila gets defeated, Zoe steals the Butterfly Miraculous to get her hands on Ladybug and Catnoir’s miraculouses, hoping to “make things right”. Zoe gets defeated by the heroes (including Chloe, who has gotten her memories back) and Ladybug manages to cure Zoe’s injuries.
It sounds like an interesting story in concept. Personally not my cup of tea cause I'm not a big of Chloe and Chloe redemption as most of the fandom is, but I think Chloe fans would like it.
Though, there is the question of why Ladybug didn't cast the cure after defeating the bodyswap villain, hence fixing Chloe/Zoe's switch, since it's a villain in Paris. This question could also apply to the villain that injures "Zoe" in the future, but that's a more vague point so I can let it slide. This was a problem I had with the actual show too, since Ladybug just neglecting to cast the cure during Representation felt out of character and like a plot contrivance.
I also think Marinette would be a little more willing to listen to Zoe's story. We've seen time and time again that she reaches out to people who've wronged her in the past, even if they haven't acted in a way that shows they deserve it yet. We also know that Chloe is a somewhat bad actor so Marinette could probably pick up on Zoe's genuineness too.
Also, why would Audrey take Zoe's body back to New York with her? Isn't Chloe's body the one "acting up"? Zoe's body wasn't the one trying to "convince anyone of the truth".
Also also Chloe would be in a boarding school in London and not in New York if this takes place anytime 3-4 years after canon (or however long high school lasts in London).
There's also the philosophical question of if "Chloe in Zoe's body" is even Chloe anymore. Perosnal opinion, but the redemption feels less earned if she has no memory of her past wrong-doings. Even if she regained them in the end, she spent 10 years thinking she was already a good person, meaning she never actually has to learn how to make up for her past mistakes. Chloe never works towards redeeming herself (Just like canon, cough cough).
Anyways those were my thoughts on this prompt. I didn't know if you wanted constructive criticism or just blind praise but here we are lol
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2-lines-and-a-circle · 11 months
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Beauty in the Hands, Idia’s route
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Notes: Fem reader, newly established relationship, Idia x reader, Please reblog
Back to prologue
Idia was walking through mainstreet on his way to Sam’s shop in hopes he could snatch the newly released game he had been eyeballing. As he reached the store, he noticed there was his lover who was busy engaging herself in a conversation with Jade Leech. Instead of walking over to them he hid behind a nearby tree due to the topic of their conversation.
You: Yeah, it was a really tough job, but Y’know I managed to take them all out. Afterall, if it meant I was the only one getting blood on my hands it’s no big deal. Jade: Sometimes it truly is best to be the one who does all the dirty work, is it not? You: That’s so true. *sigh* But now my hands are all covered up with their remains. See, not a pretty sight.
After catching a glimpse of their conversation and seeing his lover’s hands Idia immediately ran back to his dorm in a panic. Just what had he heard? Idia knew his lover previously worked as a bodyguard, but he didn’t think it was that kind of job. In his head ran thoughts of her being a member of a crime organization. Keeping this to himself he rationed that it was best to ask her about it. So, on their next date he would use that as an opening.
By the time of that date Idia noticed she was dressed up in a plain button up shirt with black pants. Yet, there also accompanied a trench coat which went all the way down to her ankles. If he didn’t know any better Idia would say she looked ready to take down anyone who threaten them. Despite all that Idia found it attractive how confident you carried yourself as you approached him.
One of the first places on Idia’s date plan was a local sweets cafe which specializes in cakes. At the cafe Idia kept a keen eye as to how you used a knife, taking mental notes to see if anything was off. Which there was, you had perfectly cut every slice of cake between the two of you. Then as if to show off for your boyfriend you spun the knife around and stabbed it into a lava cake. Much to his horror, Idia couldn’t help but think of the chocolate leaking out of the cake to be blood leaking from a dead body.
You: Would you like a slice of the lava cake now? The chocolate sure is a mess though, reminding me of something I used to see a lot. Idia: N-no, I think I have enough cake already…
Following the cafe, the two of you headed for the arcade to end off the date. Taking hold of your hand Idia brought you to one of the top games. The goal of the game was to shoot down as many targets as possible, a rather simple shooter game. Forgetting his current worry for a while Idia and you faced off in an intense game. It was a very close call which resulted in a tie, but Idia came to recall the conversation once more. As his face went pale from the memory, he got the courage to ask.
Idia: *sigh* I… want to know, are you actually… i-inovled in um, a… a crime organization?
Looking away from his lover, Idia nervously waited for her response. After a few seconds he heard a small chuckle. Tilting his head up once again he saw a familiar smile and relaxed eyes.
You: I was part of one way back in my rebellious years before I came to NRC, but not anymore. To be honest, the life of crime doesn't really suit me, and I want to repent for any damage I caused. *takes off gloves* see, I even got badly injured when I was protecting my little bro back then.
His breath nearly stopped after hearing the whole story, to calm him down you reassured him that it was all in the past. Plus, you were confident that if anything were to happen you could protect Idia. In fact, you were so confident you got down on one knee and swore to Idia by kissing him on his hand.
You: Idia I promise I will absolutely protect you by any means if someone were to hurt you. Though, I doubt it since I don’t have any bad blood with anyone. Still, trust me on this, okay. Idia: O-okay.
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