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#she could leave. but she wouldn't. she couldn't.
azrielbrainrot · 2 days
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore
Word Count: 5550
Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!
Part 5
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The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.
You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.
Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.
It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.
The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.
Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.
The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.
The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.
“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.
You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.
His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.
The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.
He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.
“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.
Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.
Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.
As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.
“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.
“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.
Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.
He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.
All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.
Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.
“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.
You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.
“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”
“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.
“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.
“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.
“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”
“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.
“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.
“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.
Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.
“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”
“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.
“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”
You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.
Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.
“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”
“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.
You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”
“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.
“Azriel-”
“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”
“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”
“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?
His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.
Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.
The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.
This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.
You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.
Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.
The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.
You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.
Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.
Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.
“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.
“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.
“What do you mean?”
“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.
Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.
You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.
When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.
It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.
You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.
You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.
All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.
You're finally free.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 days
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Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
TW: possessive Miguel, suggestive, sex toy mentioned, ex boyfriend , minors DNI
A/N: based on a meme I saw 🤭 and also had to mention one of my favorite Miguel blurbs that inspired this too a little by @kissitbttr just had to do it🤷🏽‍♀️
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When that one ex from your past won't stop blowing up your phone, Miguel decided to take things into his own hands. Some guy you dated when you were 19 and completely ruined your life. 
You were visiting him at work, bringing in two boxed lunches you made just for him so you could eat together. While you were in the bathroom, you left your phone next to his monitor and it went off for the third time in a row. 
Miguel is naturally nosy, but out of respect for you he let the first two notifications slide by. But on the third one he couldn't stand it anymore and just had to see who had the audacity to text his girl back to back. 
Can't they see she's with me right now? 
Miguel's eyes narrowed and he became pissed when he saw who it was from. 
Ex 🗑️: Hey?? Why don't you answer my DM. 
Miguel picks up your phone, taking a picture of the sight next to him, texting a quick reply and hitting send with a smug look on his face. 
You're in her DMs, but she's charging her rose toy on my monitors. 
WTF??
Gonna use it on her later if you wanna see.
(Obviously he wouldn't show your face because he's a gentleman like that)
You can no longer send messages to this account.-Learn more
"Who was that, Miggy?" 
"Ah-Nobody important."
You wear a mischievous grin as he lowers his platform so you can get on. You're pretty sure you know who it is, it's just cute that he decided to take care of him for you. He's adorable when he's jealous.
"Aww, my babe is the best secretary, clearing out those pesky spam messages." you tsk.
The red leaves his face when he realizes you're not upset with him. Miguel gives you a bashful smile, a tiny piece of lettuce stuck to his lip from the turkey sandwich you made him. "Anything for my baby."
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@hislastbimbogff 🫶🏽🖤
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phoward89 · 1 day
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Based on this ask
You've been married to President Snow for 25 years now and have 4 children between the ages of 20 & 9. When your 15 year old daughter wants to go on her first date, Coriolanus isn't taking it well. He's an overprotective girl dad.
Takes place in the Anti-Hero Universe
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Your daughter, Demeter, was a total daddy's girl. She was spoiled and had Coriolanus wrapped around her little finger. Just like her 3 brothers, your daughter was the spitting image of her father. Platinum blonde curls, cerulean blue eyes, mile long legs, and a prominent nose.
Your daughter inherited your smile and your demeanor. You saw so much of your younger self in your daughter. More so than in your other children.
So, of course, Coriolanus had strict rules for his princess when it came to boys. Well, really it was only one rule. No dating until enrolling in the University.
Meaning Demeter couldn't date until she graduated from the Academy- at 18. But, you're sure that when that time comes a new rule change will come into effect- making her age of dating pushed up by a couple of years.
Demi was a bright girl in her first year at the Academy; she was adhering to her dad’s rule until one day she wasn't.
You, Coriolanus, your first born Cassian, his longtime girlfriend Phoebe (who you stopped the president from poisoning a few times since he couldn't stand the flippant girl), Demeter, and your other sons Caspian and Caelestis were gathered around the large, ornate dining table in the presidential palace for dinner. Despite being kept busy as the President, your husband was very adamant that the family ate together every night. Hell, the family ate breakfast together every morning too- in the sunroom.
Minus Cassian's girlfriend since Coriolanus did not let her live in the Presidential Palace. He's still pouting over the last poisoning attempt that you thwarted. One day, you're certain you won't be able to stop him and he'll succeed.
“Seneca Crane asked me to the Yule Ball and I said yes!” Demeter blurted out, an overjoyed smile on her youthful face, as the Avox served the first course.
You could hear a pin drop. Even the Avox paused in their motions of serving the tomato bisque to watch, wide-eyed, President Snow's reaction. Oh boy, everyone knows the one rule your husband had for your daughter. And Demeter announcing that she was asked out and said yes broke that one rule.
Even if it's for the Yule Ball, the rule of no dating is still being broken. Attending a ball or gala with a boy is considered a date. Or at least it is in the Capitol.
“I’m sorry, Demi, but you'll have to tell the young Mister Crane that you won't be attending the Yule Ball with him.” Coriolanus calmly, but cooly, told your daughter. Then he snapped his fingers and motioned for the Avox to continue serving the soup to the family.
Everyone’s eyes fluttered between Coriolanus and Demeter. Yours included. Would she accept her father's order or would she push back.
You knew exactly what she'd do. Hell, it was the exact same thing you did when your own guardian, your older half-brother, forbid you to see Private Snow anymore. You pushed back and picked Coryo; you're sure that Demi’s going to push back and pick Senaca Crane.
And you're right.
“Daddy, all of my friends are going to the Yule Ball. Everyone's going! And I'm going too, with Seneca Crane, whether you like it or not!” Demeter shrieked, only to loudly push her chair away from the table and storm out of the dining room.
“Demeter Juniper, come right back to the dining room! You haven't been properly dismissed yet!” The President orders in a loud, authoritative tone.
But your daughter didn't come back. In fact, you think she stormed off to her room. Not that you blame her.
You knew that Coryo would let her be; that he wouldn't chase after her. Demeter had him wrapped around her finger. She was daddy's little princess. The President would never make a scene by leaving the dining room to chase after her; he’d wait til after dinner to have a word with her.
Hell, this isn't the first time something like this has happened and it won't be the last.
The President took a deep, calming breath while motioning the Avox over. Once the Avox appeared at his side, he told the Avox, “Have a maid wheel a trolley full of all the supper courses to Demi’s room.”
Of course your husband was having the full course meal sent up to your daughter. Even tho she stormed off during dinner, Coriolanus didn't want her going hungry. He loves his children too much to ever let any of them go hungry.
The Avox nodded and took off to get your daughter's meal sent up to her.
“Now, let's go back to our soup.” The President said, causing everyone to pick up their spoons and begin to eat their tomato bisque.
“Mister President, maybe you should let Demeter go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. It could be the beginning of a sweet relationship.” The teal haired girl sitting next to Cassian has the idiotic nerve to tell your husband.
“Phoebe…” Cassian hissed warningly at his girlfriend while giving her a swift kick under the table.
“Yes, well, my son took you to the Yule Ball his sophomore year of the Academy and you've been a barnacle on the Snow family for years.” Your husband curtly told Phoebe, causing Cassian to cringe in embarrassment. “But unlike my sons, I have stricter rules for my daughter.” Coriolanus explained while pristinely bringing his soup spoon to his mouth.
“Phoebe, perhaps you should just enjoy the tomato bisque and not worry about how my husband and I raise our daughter or, in fact, any of our children.” You told the teal haired girl with a pointed fake smile while placing a supportive hand on your husband's under the table, on his lap.
Phoebe’s eyes went wide, but she silently nodded and went back to her soup. In fact, after your remark, everyone began to engage in light conversation while tentatively sipping on soup.
Coryo squeezed your hand, that was on his- on his lap, only to lean over slightly to tell you, “After dinner I'm going to talk with Demi; explain to her why she's not allowed to attend the ball with Seneca Crane.”
“Don’t be too strict, Coryo. Remember, she's young and likes Seneca.” You knowingly advised your husband.
“Hmph.” Coriolanus huffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I know she's young. She's 15, my darling, and that's why I need to be strict on her about the subject of dating and boys.”
“Honey, my brother told me it was either you or them; I picked you. Demeter's all you in looks, but all me in personality. So, just don't push her too hard on this.”
“I know, my darling rose. I know.” Coriolanus sighed right as a maid came in to clear out the soup bowls.
As the maid left the dining room with a trolley full of empty soup bowls the Avox appeared with the main course. Time to carry on with dinner. They'll be time to deal with your daughter's dating drama later.
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Demeter Snow was sitting on her bedroom floor, back against her bed, while thumbing thru fashion magazines. Since her Auntie Tigris was the most popular stylist and fashion icon Tigris, she was looking thru magazines to get ideas for her Yule Ball dress. A dress that her auntie would no doubt make for her.
The young blonde’s dog-earing a page in the magazine whenever a knock followed by her door cracking open and her father's head popping in with a simple, “Demi, it's dad. I'd like to talk.”, sounded out in the air.
“Come in “ Demeter flatly said while going back to thumbing thru her magazine.
Coriolanus walked into the room, only to frown whenever he saw the untouched food trolley near the door. “Princess, why didn't you eat?” He asked while making his way over to his daughter.
“I'm not hungry.” Demeter shrugged, flipping the page of her magazine.
The President pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low sigh before sitting down on the floor next to his only daughter. Turning to the platinum blonde girl, he sternly told her, “Demi, don't starve yourself in protest. I refuse to have any of my children go hungry, so I order you to eat your dinner once we're done talking.”
“Fine.” Demi sighed.
Coriolanus snatched the fashion magazine right out of his daughter's hands while telling her, “I don't know why you're looking at dresses for because you're not going to the Yule Ball with Seneca Crane.”
“Why not? Everyone else is going with a date. Why can't I go with a date, dad?”
“Princess, you're not like everyone else. You're the president's daughter; you're not going to the ball with a date because it's just not proper.”
“Not proper my ass.” Demi mutters under her breath.
“Excuse me, young lady, but such language is not permitted in this house.” Coriolanus scolded his favorite child. He was appalled by her actions right now. He expected her to accept his word as law, but it seems that you're right about her. She's pushing back, much like you did as a teenager.
“And you know my rules, no dating until you're 18 and have graduated the Academy. That includes balls and galas, Demeter Juniper.”
“Everyone in the districts is right about you, dad. You're such a tyrant. A damn dictator.” Demeter hatefully spat out, taking the President aback. He never thought that his little princess would say such hurtful things to him, but she did.
Blinking, Coriolanus stood up. The President’s shoulders were shaking with a mix of hurt and anger as he told his daughter, “Since I'm such a tyrant; a dictator, you're grounded, Demeter Juniper Snow, and you're not attending any balls or galas this year. Alone or with a date.”
“That's not fair!” Demeter whined as he dad went over to the door.
“Life isn't fair, princess. Maybe your mom and I have been sheltering you too much, but you don't always get things your way in life.” The president told his daughter before leaving her room.
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Your husband was in a sulking mood all night while in the family room with you and the children. He didn't seem like himself and when you asked what was wrong he just waved you off; said everything was fine.
You knew otherwise.
Everything wasn't fine. Your husband was hurting and you have an idea why. Your daughter and him had words; something was said that cut him down.
Wanting to get to the bottom of things, you excused yourself with the intention of checking on Demeter. On seeing if she wanted to come down and join the family. Your husband just nodded while nursing his glass of bourbon whiskey. Your younger sons didn't say a word, being too engrossed in their chess match, while your first born son just kept his nose in his book.
So, that's how you found yourself sitting on your daughters bed, holding her while she picked at her strawberry shortcake and complained about how unfair her dad was being.
“I understand you feel like it's unfair, but your dad has his reasons for his rules. And lashing out on him, saying that the districts are right about him being a tyrant and a dictator, wasn't right, Demeter.” You firmly tell your daughter.
No wonder Coryo's sulking. You can't imagine how badly your daughter’s words have hurt your husband. Coriolanus truly believes that his pro-Capitol and strict District political policies have made Panem thrive. And, honestly, after the bullshit you experienced in the Districts during your youth, well, you side wholeheartedly with the Capitol.
With your husband.
“But-” Your daughter began to protest, only for you to cut her off with a motherly, “No buts, Demi. What you said to your dad hurt him. He only wants to keep you safe.”
As your daughter put her half-eaten dessert plate on the trolley, you told her, “Your father works hard not just to keep us safe, but to keep the Capitol and all of Panem safe. For you to say such hateful things to him isn't called for.”
“Everyone else gets to go to balls and galas with dates; I just want to be able to go too.”
“I know, honey, but it's not that simple. You’re the president's daughter; people might try to take advantage of you for that.”
“Mom, Seneca Crane's really nice. He wouldn't try to take advantage of me.” Demeter told you with such conviction. She truly believes that Seneca was just a nice guy that liked her for her.
Sighing, you told Demeter, “I’ll talk to your dad about letting you go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. But, you need to go down to the family room and apologize to him.”
“Okay.” Your daughter nodded, accepting your terms.
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Later that night, you're in your large master bedroom with your husband. You're wearing one of your silky nightgowns while sitting at your vanity, doing your nightly beauty regime. Coryo's lounging on the bed you share, dressed in a pair of silky red pajamas. His platinum curls are in their natural state and he's got gold gel patches on under his eyes to prevent bags. His face is also lathered in facial creams, to keep his skin hydrated and wrinkle free during the night.
You and Coryo are in your early 40’s, have been married for 25 years now, and have 4 children- one who's 20, one who’s 15, and the others that're 11 and 9. And after all of that life experience you still find each other as handsome and beautiful as ever. Even lathered up in your nightly beauty and skincare regimens.
“Now, I've got no doubt that Seneca Crane's a nice boy- after all I knew his aunt and she had a personality to die for, but I'm not letting Demi go to that dance with him.” Coryo told you, watching you with sharp eyes, as he sat against the king-size velvet headboard.
“I thought you said that Arachne was a bitch that got a broken bottle to the throat cause she was teasing her tribute with it?” You asked, brow raised, as you finished applying your body lotion.
“I did say that.” Coryo nodded. Running a hand over his beard (which he began sporting after receiving a scar along his jaw from an attempted mine uprising during a business trip in 12 that occurred about 15 years ago), he sighed, “Maybe if it was Heavensbee’s son I'd reconsider, but a Crane?”
You picked up your silver brush and began to brush your hair. “Coryo, I know how you feel about this, but we need to trust her judgment on this.”
“But-” Coryo began, only for you to cut him off with, “No buts, Coryo. Maybe we need to let her go to the Yule Ball with Seneca. Give her a tiny bit of leeway; show her that we trust her.”
“Fine…” Coryo relented with a defeated sigh. Pointing a finger at you, he declared, “But I’m giving him one hell of a shovel talk when that boy comes to pick her up for the Yule Ball.”
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And your husband was true to his word. President Coriolanus Snow gave Senaca Crane the shovel talk of all shovel talks. In fact, Seneca was so nervous after that talk that he barely even looked at Demeter. In fact, after the Yule Ball he never talked to her again; made excuses to not be around her, etc.
Safe to say that President Coriolanus Snow scared away his daughter's first potential boyfriend. It could've been worse. At least he didn't poison the boy.
So, after the Yule Ball and the failed date with Seneca Crane, Demeter Snow went back to worrying about her studies and fashion. She didn't bring up the topic of dating again, much to her dad’s relief.
But in 3 years time President Snow would have to deal with his daughter falling for her tribute, but that's a story for another day.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @meetmeatyourworst @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
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purgatorytf · 1 day
Note
I’m too smart for my own good and sometimes I wish I could live a simpler life. Whether that be as a dumb jock or some workout gear for one, I’ve always wanted to know what that’s felt like.
You had been rambling to your friend Jessica about how stressed out you were in your life. Your exemplary academic and subsequent professional career had landed you in a high-paying but high-responsibility position. It felt like you had so much to worry about; the budgets, the meetings, the bureaucracy, the hierarchy. All that had taken over your life and you couldn't even make time for sex anymore, nevermind a relationship.
"I don't even have time for a boyfriend right now, i wish everything was just ... simpler...."
Jessica sighed. This hadn't been the first time you told her this, every conversation you had revolved around how strained you felt. She grabbed something from her bag and handed it to you : a cap. She told you that she snatched it from one of the douchebags who catcalled her at the gym and that he wouldn't miss it.
"This guy clearly didn't have a lot going on up there. You should put it on and see how it feels. Maybe having a little bit of him in you will help you turn your brain off and relax."
You shrugged and decided to put in on. It's not like it could hurt. You secured the cap on your head and you instantly felt all your worries and your intellect drain out of your head and converting into thick bulging muscles all over your unremarkable body. Your pecs rose into a thick muscular shelf as your abs popped out. your biceps and shoulders ballooned, your thighs enlarged. Your entire body surged and strained against your clothes.
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All of that boring business stuff exited your mind forever and you felt so much better. Everything felt so much simpler already. Your clothes quickly turned into the typical jock attire : trunks, a tanktop and grey sweaters.
In disbelief, you lifted the tank top to look at your new body "Holy shit bro, i look swole !" But just as you said those words, you felt even more of your brains drain out. This time, your entire personality flushed down into your enlarging balls. It started with your smart and charming persona, and eventually your values. Your kindness, your empathy, you compassion. All of that served as fuel for your swelling manhood, leaving nothing left of your morality and judgement, turning you into an arrogant, self-centered gymrat.
As you pawed at your impressive package, you quickly realized it demanded attention. But you found the images that came to your mind to not be the hunky men you were used to. Instead you could only envision yourself fondling tits and sticking your dick in wet pussy. Your homosexuality had been flushed. Gone was the kind, sensitive gay best friend and in his place was now a macho breeder.
"Fuck bruh, i need to pound some pussy huhu"
Your entire being now revolved around your biological duty. A real man's only desire was women's curvy bodies, their full lips, their aching pussies. And you wanted to- no, you were going to fill them with your seed. That's why you spent all your time at the gym pumping iron : to score some pussy. You looked in the mirror and saw yourself for who you were always meant to be : a jacked, stinky straight gym bro stroking his fat cock.
Your lengthening python demanded attention. With a dopey grin, you looked up at the chick in front of you and already saw yourself putting a baby in her womb. You scratched at your throbbing cock.
"Hey babe, wanna help me out with this ?"
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Enjoy your new breeder life bro. No more smarts, no more individuality. You're now a perfectly assimilated straight male with no worries. Now go pump some iron and spread your seed !
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haunting-hole · 9 hours
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this is so fucking funny to me bc unlike with her you Could argue that was the reasoning behind mithrun being sent to the canaries: choosing his brother who wasn't very physically strong or well regarded status-wise would probably be seen as insulting to the crown or whatever. mithrun was just mad about it bc despite being the 'perfect' son he still ends up in the losing side of this power dynamic, he's not angry his parents would trade a child for better status he's just angry that the child they traded was Him, despite him playing along by elf society's rules perfectly. but because he measures his own worth by how well he can play that role, him not reaping all the benefits that come with it automatically means he must be inferior somehow. Pattadol on the other hand. im sorry there's no way her parents just didnt pick whatever kid they'd care less about losing sorry pattadol. she was sent to the canaries after the utaya incident where whatever vast amount of elfs died was enough to leave them understaffed for years. there's no way a massacre like this wouldn't be fresh in any parents mind. even if they just couldn't refuse the queens request or something, it still stands that they looked at their kids and went. hm which one of those are we willing to risk getting utaya'd okay pattadol it was nice knowing you. and the only reason this doesn't utterly fuck her up as it should. is that shes genuinely like. nooooo was i a bad daughter :( well i can't think of any flaws that i have actually. am i just too awesome yeah that sounds right and im fine now. insane. entire crisis averted bc pattadol is simply too confident in herself
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Present Day *Reader POV*
The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.
Mentally or physically.
As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.
I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.
Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.
Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.
You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.
When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.
Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.
Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.
What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.
 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 
The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.
As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.
You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.
Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.
You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.
"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.
"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.
"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"
"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.
"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.
"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.
Well, guess he's afraid of me now.
"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.
You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.
"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.
"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.
Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.
"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”
"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.
"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.
"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.
You weren't afraid of him.
"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.
Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.
You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.
You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.
Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.
Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.
"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.
Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.
Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.
He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.
Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.
Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.
"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.
"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”
There goes the dam.
Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”
"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.
"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"
"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.
Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.
How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?
"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."
"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.
"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.
"No." He towers over you.
"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.
"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.
You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."
Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.
Join the club kid.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.
"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."
"It's not true."
"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."
"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.
"Damn." Hughie echoes.
"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.
"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."
"Y/n-" He growls.
"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”
“Y/n-“
"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.
Hughie flinches.
"Like what?" Ben exclaims.
"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.
"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.
"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
"Yes I do."
"Please stop talking."
"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"
"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.
"They're not my friends."
"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”
"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.
“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 
"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.
"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"
"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.
"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.
"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.
"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.
"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.
"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"
“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."
He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.
"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”
He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.
You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.
If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?
You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."
No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.
"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”
He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.
“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“
"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.
"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.
You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.
But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.
“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”
"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.
“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”
"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.
"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.
How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.
Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.
So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.
Because it’s got to one day right?
***************************************************
*Soldier Boy POV*
He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.
He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.
Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.
He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-
Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?
He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.
When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 
The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.
How could I fuck this up this much?
Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?
Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.
The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 
Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.
He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.
Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.
He would never leave you again.
The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.
Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.
The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"
"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"
"Lavender?"
"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.
Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.
Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.
“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.
“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.
“Sure.”
The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.
“I said a phone-“
“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.
“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.
The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.
“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.
Legend answers on the first ring.
“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”
“Somewhere.”
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
******************************************
N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.
Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)
Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit
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Text
Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader
The time has come, babes, this could be the final part
I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
♡♡♡
"I'll see you, Lucifer."
"I hope so."
Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?
Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.
But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.
Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 
3:01PM
"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.
— 
You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.
Speaking of,
"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.
"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.
Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 
"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.
"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.
"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.
"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.
As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.
"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel? 
"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.
"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.
"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.
"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.
"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.
"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.
"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.
"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.
After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.
Purple always looked good on you.
"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.
"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.
"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.
"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 
Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.
"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.
"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.
"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.
"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.
"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.
"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.
"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.
"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.
You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.
The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.
You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.
The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.
"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.
Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.
"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.
"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.
Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.
Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.
The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.
Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.
"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.
You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.
"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.
"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.
Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.
Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.
He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.
"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.
"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.
"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.
You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.
You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?
"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.
You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.
"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.
His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.
"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?
"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.
"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.
"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.
"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.
"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.
"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.
Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.
Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.
"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.
"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.
Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.
Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..
A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.
The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.
Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.
Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.
"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.
"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.
"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.
"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.
What just happened?
"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.
♡♡♡
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lmao jk there's more parts coming
( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )
!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee
@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )
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sadokasochism · 2 days
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So I have a running interpretation of Mizi as having been quite sheltered as a result of her relatively comfortable life as a pet, hence her being a bit delusional in her and Sua's interview before Round 1 and her shock at Sua's death, despite the humans all knowing that the loser dies in Alien Stage.
Now I'm onto the implications that this has for the whole conga line of longing between Ivan, Till, and Mizi:
The fucking tragedy of Till falling in love with the one person who didn't have a reason to escape or intervene.
Mizi had a good life and was never exposed to the same pain and suffering the others had known.
Sua is implied to have had a pretty empty life as a pet, being treated as an object by her owners, and being very emotionally withdrawn as a result. However, she also didn't have the drive to leave, as the one person she cared about seemed so happy here, and Mizi's dreams were all about singing together and fulfilling the wishes of their owners.
Ivan had known suffering before being taken in by his owner, and even though his life was relatively good as a pet, he still knew how precarious that position was, and besides he had to watch Till be horribly mistreated by his owner. He had enough reason to want to get out of there.
But Till loved and wouldn't leave Mizi, THE ONE PERSON WHO WOULD NEVER LEAVE. So he didn't go with Ivan when they had a chance to escape, he stayed. And Ivan stayed too, because he wouldn't leave Till.
And by extension: the tragedy of SUA falling in love with someone who had no reason to leave, and Mizi falling in love with someone who couldn't see past the world they were trapped in.
Following this interpretation, this is one angle to Ivan's judgement of Sua that I'm stuck on.
Ivan TRIED to break Till out so the person he loved wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
Meanwhile, the best Sua could come up with was following the path laid out by their alien owners, and then dying instead of Mizi.
Sua only aimed as high as the best outcome that their society could allow them, while Ivan was willing to deviate entirely. The only thing that stopped him was Till running back to Mizi.
He could be thinking "the person you love would have followed you anywhere, and the best you could do is die? You couldn't imagine a future with both of you alive and happy? You had everything I ever wanted, and you threw it away."
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wosoluver · 4 hours
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Falling asleep in paradise.
TW: Smut, minors DNI
Lena x reader
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"I have to go schatz, it's a work get together, and I need to earn some points with my boss."
"You wouldn't have to if you you weren't always late to work."
"Really? And whose fault is that?"
"Not mine! You're the one who is sexy in the mornings. And I don't like him. Always trying to hit on you."
"Well, he can keep trying, he's never going to land anything so."
He flirted with you quite a lot, despite knowing it was inappropriate and that you were in a relationship.
You only ignored him, he was delusional if he thought you would ever give him a chance.
You went to the bathroom after getting dressed, to do your make up and hair. Lena wouldn't leave your side. Standing in the doorway, watching you.
As you were adding the last touches, pouting your lips at the mirror as you retouched you lipstick, she couldn't stop herself.
"Why are you getting so dressed up?" pouting her lips, pulling you close.
You laughed at your girlfriend, her jealousy could get a bit much sometimes, but you didn't mind, actually you found it attractive.
"Baby, I always dress like this."
"Yes, but today I won't be there if you need me. I love you liebling." whispering lovingly this time.
"Love you too, more than anything."
Her hands on your hips as she kissed your neck, trying to convince you to get in bed with her.
"I'm serious. I'll be back before you know it."
You untangled yourself before she succeeded, walking towards the front door, getting your bag and keys, and her trailing behind you.
"Bye love, no need to wait up on me." teasing her. Knowing exactly what you were doing.
"And you. Come straight home. To me." she said in a firm tone that made you instantly wet.
But you didn't give in.
Giving her a kiss you walked out the door.
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"Hello, girl you look so good tonight!" - said your friend and coworker as you walked to the table.
"She always looks good." and there he was, before you had even sat down.
"Hey guys. Have you ordered anything yet?"
You greeted them as you sat in between your favorite coworkers.
Some had, some hadn't and trying to rizz you up, your boss had offered to pay for the round. Which annoyed the ones who were already having their drinks.
The night carried on fine, except you couldn't get your mind off her. You had been talking for hours. But by now you only wanted to go home, you wanted Lena.
"So Y/N, do you still have a boyfriend?"
"A girlfriend and yes. Actually I should probably get going, home to her."
He let out an annoyed sight as you got up to say goodbye to everyone.
Getting in the car and taking a deep breath, it wouldn't be long now.
You were probably a little over the speed limit on the road. But you were impatient.
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As you came in, you noticed she was still up, sitting on the couch, watching something on the tv.
"Thought you weren't coming home anymore." - once again, talking in that low tone.
You walked over to her, staring down at how good she looked. She aways did. Only wearing a sports bra and shorts. You couldn't tear your eyes away from her thighs. They were almost an obsession of yours.
Getting your shoes off, she had picked up on what was going on.
"Maybe I shouldn't have." - You matched her energy, as she pulled you down to her. Setting you down, on her right thigh. One leg in each side of it.
"So horny and I haven't even said much." - she traced your lips with her thumb.
"You didn't have to, after basically saying 'come straight home so I can fuck you'."
"I was only trying to convince you to stay. I'm not sure if the offer is still up." - she whispered in your ear, as she rocked you against her leg slowly. And a moan escaped your lips.
"Lena, please."
She undressed you little by little. Enjoying the feeling of your wetness on her thigh. Letting out delicious groans.
Putting her hands on your hips as she guided you, back and forth, you made a mess, throwing your head back.
By now you were grinding hard against her. One of her hands was in your hair, her lips going from you neck to your lips, kissing, biting down your lip as you moaned out her name.
"That’s it, love. Fuck-" she says while flexing her muscles under you.
As your pace starts faltering, she moves you to straddle now both of her legs, to give you more support, as she brought her hand down between your legs, rubbing your clit and adding in two fingers, reaching for your g-spot, so she could get you to finish.
"Schatz I-"
"I know, I'm here, you can let go." she whispered softly as she left a kiss on your temple.
Finally cumming on top of her, relaxing your body and nuzzling your head on her neck, as she carried you to bed.
She got up and went to the bathroom, only to come back with a damp towel.
But you pouted, hissing at the contact, you were sensitive and the towel being somewhat cold didn't help.
"I'll be quick liebling."
And not a minute later you were already sound asleep. She pulled the covers over you.
Got changed and laid down on the other side of the bed, gently brushing your hair out of your face. Falling asleep in paradise.
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This was supposed to be put out earlier, but I accidentally deleted part of it and had to rewrite it. 🩷 Also first time writing smut?!
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moonlightazriel · 2 days
Text
Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader
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Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions
Word Count: 2K
Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.
Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands. 
Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold. 
“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.
Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable. 
But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was. 
Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.
“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book. 
“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.” 
Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb. 
“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep  going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed. 
“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed. 
But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless. 
“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.
“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt  started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully? 
“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement. 
“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.” 
“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”
Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself. 
“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her. 
“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life. 
They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt. 
Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down. 
“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch. 
“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster. 
“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging. 
“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen. 
“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”
“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.
“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it? 
“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.
“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue. 
“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.
“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages. 
“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him. 
He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls. 
They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased. 
It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy. 
Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them. 
The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.
The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.
With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”
Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.
“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.
“I know how to kill him.”
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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lizhly-writes · 2 days
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hmm. so i had... another svsss idea.
A-Niang was the best mother Luo Binghe had ever had, which was a pretty weird feeling to have, considering he was 50% sure he'd only had the one mother.
That was a weird feeling, too! Why was he only 50% sure? From the beginning of his life to his present feelings, wasn't it clear there was only one woman taking care of him? Didn't he only have the one mother to honor?
Okay, two, if you considered the one that had dumped him in the river and let A-Niang find him, but considering that one had dumped him in the river --
"That's really mean!" Luo Binghe said, when A-Niang had told him. "What if I drowned? Babies can't swim! What if I died??"
"But you didn't," A-Niang said gently. "The river brought you to me, didn't it, Bing-bing?"
"Well, yeah..."
But his birth mother couldn't have known that. Who would put a baby adrift in an icy river in winter and think that it would survive?
But his birth mother didn't have a choice. She would have kept him if she could, but she'd been dying, so she'd had to hope for the best --
Why did he think that? This wasn't only something that he wanted to believe -- though it would be nice to believe that his mother didn't leave him to die!!! -- it was something he knew. Faith and belief were nice things, but it wasn't the same thing as knowledge. This, he knew, with an off-hand certainty, the same way anyone would know that the midday sky was blue.
The sky was blue. His birth mother wanted to save his life. He had more than two mothers.
"My stepmom," he'd say, thinking that A-Niang cooked better than -- who? "My mom," he'd say, thinking that A-Niang was so much prouder of him than --
Than...?
When he wasn't paying attention, he'd have stray thoughts that didn't make sense. It was a pain getting water from the river and heating it up, what he wouldn't give for a sink and a stovetop. Who wanted to shit outside in the bushes, wouldn't it be nice to have a working bathroom? Ah, he was so bored, he even missed writing, even if writing twenty million words had killed him --
It was like this. Drawing shapes in the dirt with sticks, thinking that they didn't look right, smoothing it over and trying it again until he ended up with something that he knew with certainty was his name.
Luo Binghe.
Except he didn't know how to write? Except that wasn't his name? Of course it wasn't his name, Luo Binghe was his OP protagonist son who he'd proudly written to ensnare the audience of Qidian so he could have all the instant ramen he could ever want, even if his dad and his mom stopped remembering he existed, and. And --
"Bing-bing, what's wrong?" A-Niang said, when she found him crying in the dirt. He hadn't even realized he was crying -- hadn't realized it until she smoothed her hand over his shoulder and brought everything back into focus.
He couldn't stop crying, fat tears dripping to the ground unceasingly. His throat was dry, too tight to speak what he'd really wanted to say --
There's something wrong with me, isn't there?
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jenaurr · 1 day
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you never cared for love. being in a relationship seemed too exhausting, too vulnerable and messy. you were okay with watching your friends fall in love from afar. as long as they were happy you were too.
and yet, everything changed after a project you had with a random partner for your statistics class.
na jaemin was someone you've heard of before. he was kind, smart and incredibly handsome. the last person you'd expect yourself to fall in love with as deeply as you did.
you remember perfectly the exact day when he went from a project partner, to a friend, to a crush and to what you call now your boyfriend.
"alright, i say we share the subjects of the presentation equally and then we meet again to put everything together, is that okay?" you asked with a small smile.
"yeah sure, that's fine by me. the only problem is that i kinda suck at statistics so it may take longer than a few days to finish all this." he says while checking his parts of the project.
"oh that's okay, i'm doing quite well in this class so i could give you my number if you need any help with something! you kindly offer, something that later became one of the best decisions you've ever made.
mark sat back on the sofa with a tired sigh in the apartement that he shared with three of his best friends, after one of the bost boring lectures he's had that week.
"dude i swear this teacher was a grim reaper in another life. how can you suck so bad at teaching at yet have the nerve to judge your students like that is beyond me" he complained to the other two.
"what did he say again? I told you you should've skipped this morning, who else other than you wants to see his bald ass head at 9 in the morning? said donghyuck while playing a game on his phone.
"there was barely anyone bro, the only person i knew was y/n. she was his victim today, I felt so bad for her."
jaemin was barely paying attention to the conversation, still half asleep , but hearing your name had better effect on him than any other coffee he's ever had.
"what do you mean, what did he say to her?" he asked, now fully awake
"he read her essay and pretty much called it shit in front of everyone. I can't imagine how awful that must be, especially for someone who takes their studies as serious as her" answered the oldest of the group
jaemin didn't waste a second after hearing that, got dressed as quickly as he could and ran to the nearby bakery to get you your favorite pastries and of course, a bouquet of flowers to cheer you up.
"oh jaemin, it's nice to see you!" says chaewon while letting him in the apartement she shares with you, her best friend. "y/n is a little bit down right now so I'm glad you're here, I have a class in a few minutes."
"thanks chaewon, don't worry, I'll try to make her feel better. I hate not seeing her happy" says your kind friend
"hm I wonder why" she shot him a teasing look "I'll leave you to it then".
jaemin made his way to your room, knocked twice and waited for your permission to come in. when you gave it to him, he opened the door and his gaze immediately found yours.
"what are you doing here, jaem?" you asked him while sitting up on your bed. your plan was to rot in bed for the rest of the day. being someone with huge academic validation, it was never easy for you to receive criticism towards your work, so on the rare occasions when it happened, your mood would be down for the entire day.
"what do you mean what am i doing here? my favorite statistics partner isn't her usual happy self and you thought i wouldn't come cheer you up?" he says while taking a seat on the bed " here's your favorites. for now i can only give you this but if you want i'll gladly give a punch or two to that asshole."
he brought you your favorite pastries and flowers? how did he even know they were your favorites, you couldn't have mentioned this more than once in the months you've known each other.
"jaemin you didn't have to do this!" you exclaim, feeling something you couldn't quite name yet.
"of course I did." he says while looking softly into your eyes "now move over, I plan on staying here for the rest of the day and I'd rather be comfortable" he lay next to you and started to look for a something to watch " what kind of movie are you feeling? I'm in the mood for comedy or romance."
"romance.." you say while staring at his pretty face, in a seemingly different light than you did before
oh...
"chaewon please, the last thing i want to do is see him today" you nearly cried while saying this to your best friend. ever since that day when jaemin surprised you with your favorites, you've noticed that you feel different around him. he's no longer a friend to you and you don't want to feel more things for him, so you avoid him as much as possible.
"y/n please stop feeling so scared about this. jaemin is an amazing guy who could make you so happy. why would you run away from this special something you have with him?" huffed the blond haired girl
"what if he doen't feel the same way about me,huh? then what? i just make a fool out of myself and ruin what we already have!"
"if you think that he doesn't ike you back you must be the actual blindest person on earth." she says while rolling her eyes "do all your guy friends treat you the way he does? i don't think donghyuck, mark, jeno or anyone else does!" she starts rumming through your closet despite your protests "i don't want to hear it, you're coming with me to the party! besides, you don't even know if he's going to be there."
you catch the outfit that she nearly hit you in the face, not forgetting to glare at her despite appreciating her efforts to get you out of the house.
"alright, we're going but i better won't have to drag your drunk ass out of there!" in spite of your original reluctance, you start getting ready.
"this is definitely the last party we're going to together" you mumble, not even on hour later while running after your lightweight chaewon.
"need some help getting her home?" you hear a deep voice ask behind you.
"shit jeno you scared me" you say, clutching your chest " i actually do though" you answer, offering a smile to one of your favorite friends
"sorry y/n" he return your smile "you don't have to worry about her, i'll take her home, you enjoy yourself here" he says while giving you a pat on the back
"are you sure? i don't want to ruin your night" you say
"yeah of course! i was planning on going home anyway. also, i think a certain someone wants to talk to you." he says, obviously pointing to his best friend.
"is it too late to ask for a ride home too?" you ask him with a desperate look in your eyes
"yes my friend, it is. he's already coming here. but don't be scared alright, i know you worry a lot but you two are good together." he says, already making his way to chaewon
you take a deep breath, already dreading the conversation you're about to have.
"hey you, it's been a while. i was starting to think you hate me or something" jaemin says with an unsure smile on his face "are you okay with going somewhere else? i missed you and i want to talk to you about something"
there he goes again. saying things that you wish he would stop saying, because you fall more and more for him
"yeah sure" you answer, trying to calm your nerves
you two drove around for a few minutes while listenig to music from a playlist that you made for him a while ago. you already knew where he was taking you. there was a park nearby where you two spend a lot of time together. he once called this his favorite place to go to with his favorite person. you tried to avoid how your heart fluttered when you heard that.
"so, are you going to tell me why you've been avoiding me lately?" he asks after sitting on the blanket he always keeps in his car
" i haven't been avoiding you, jaem. i've just been super busy with uni and work." you answer, trying to seem as convincing as possible. "you said you wanted to talk about something, what is it?"
there were a few second of silence, so you decided to take a look at him. he was already looking at you, love pouring out of his eyes
"jaemin.." you whisper
"i love you" he says
you could immediately feel tears in the back of your eyes
"i have for quite a while now. i can't tell you the exact moment i realised it, but i can tell you that i'm sure of it. everything feels so different to me now. there isn't a single moment of my day where i don't think about you. i know how scared you are of being in love, and i don't blame you. i've never felt like this before. i've never had someone consume every single thought of my brain the way you do" he pauses, takes a look at you and then takes your hand in his " i think the reason why you avoided me was because you feel it too. and i want you to know that even if you aren't ready for something more than the friendship we have, i would never hold that againt you. never. i'm happy with whatever you give me as long as i have you in my life"
you take a deep breath while squeezing his hand "it's so hard for me to put into words what i'm feeling for you because a few months ago it seemes like the most foreign concept to me,loving someone forever. i don't know how i would be like in a relationship, but if it's anything like watching bad movies with you , or staying here in this park talking about anything that goes though our minds, i want to try it with you."
at that, he offered you his beautiful smile that makes you weak to the knees, and pulled you into a hug.
"i'm pretty sure that i can love you forever, y/n" he whispered in your hair
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smartycvnt · 2 days
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Title: Smile
Pairing: Alex Cabot x Reader
Prompt: "That's the first time I've ever seen you smile."
Word Count: 1015
The click of Ash's heels on the tile floors felt like a warning. Alex felt a headache start to come on, the same that always came whenever she was forced to go against Ash in court. The woman was worse than a Calhoun, poached for defensive criminal law while she was still in law school. Alex knew that it was far beyond impressive, but she would never admit it in a million years.
"Counselor, what a pleasant surprise," Ash greeted Alex with a smile. Alex didn't reciprocate the look, choosing to bank on her annoyance. "Detective Stabler, let's hope you don't make this too easy for me."
"Counselor, I forgot how much of a peach you are to work with," Stabler said through grit teeth. Ash smirked as she moved past him to sit with her client. Truthfully, Ash hated defending the bastards who ended up in this particular interrogation room, but a paycheck was a paycheck. It didn't help that Ash had a very lavish lifestyle and her engagement had finally fizzled out.
"Weird, she usually doesn't go straight in like that," Alex muttered. She frowned as she watched Ash and the suspect. Alex noticed that Ash wasn't nearly as animated as she usually was. If anything, Ash looked sad, and Alex wasn't sure why, but it bothered her. The jokes and jabs were Alex's favorite part of you coming and making her job harder for her.
"Cabot, I'll be here getting the best sandwich on this side of the Manhattan tonight if you'd like to talk deals. Put him in lockup for the night, his face was pointed down the whole time, so I couldn't have seen if there were any bruises Stabler." Ash placed a piece of paper in Alex's hand before turning to the detective with a smile. Both of them looked shocked as Ash walked out just like that.
"He must be a bigger piece of work than I thought," Alex said with a huff. Neither one of them had ever seen her like that. Ash had her ways of getting her guys out of lock up, even the truly dangerous ones. For Ash to just leave him in there like that was unheard of, but neither one of them were going to argue against it.
The idea of meeting you somewhere private to discuss a deal made Alex's stomach flutter. She had been to Ash's office, and Ash had been to hers once, but this felt different. Alex had no idea how different it really was until she arrived at her destination.
It was no secret that Ash hadn't come from money like a lot of her peers. The sandwich shop was in a neighborhood Alex had never even heard of before. She felt horribly out of place, especially when she saw Ash sitting in the corner. Ash looked incredibly dressed down out of her work attire.
Alex found herself gawking a little at the long expanse of leg being shown off in the NYU soccer shorts that Ash had on. There was a little boy in Ash's lap, one that looked enough like the woman for Alex to question whether or not it was hers. Alex knew that Ash had been with some young congressman's brother from the upper east side, someone who wouldn't have been caught dead in a place like this.
"Cabot, come on over here! Don't be a stranger." Alex cautiously took a few steps towards Ash. The little boy in her lap hopped off and walked over to lead Alex over to their table. "Vin, why don't you go play outside for a bit? I have to do a bit of work bub."
"You play later too?" Alex tried not to look so surprised by the child's heavily accented voice. Ash nodded, muttering something in another language before she turned to Alex as the boy ran off.
"Who is he?" Alex asked. She hoped that her question was taken as polite and not crossing any lines. There was a moment where Ash seemed apprehensive, but she smiled and relaxed a little.
"He's my little brother. My dad's trips to the old country tended to come with some interesting souvenirs," Ash said with a small laugh. "There's definitely a few of them running around. My mom's a fricking saint, I swear. I could never, that's why Nate and I broke up, he was way too much like my dad."
"There's a lot I don't know about you," Alex said. Ash nodded, smirking a little to herself. There was a lot that nobody knew, and if Ash had her way, nobody ever would. "Is this your family's store?"
"Oh yeah, and they're all kind of pissed that I'm not around more to help out, but we aren't here to talk about that. It has been suggested to me that Mr. Pearson won't accept a deal with any more than 10 years, so I'd like to shoot for 9 and 3/4 with a guilty plea to the Dylan Lloyd charge," Ash said. She had been carefully thinking over her choice of words for the offer. Alex was smart, smart enough to reject the deal and go to court.
"N-no deal," Alex said hesitantly. She wasn't quite sure, but there was a feeling inside of Alex that Pearson had more charges that could be found with some digging.
At Alex's words, Ash smiled brightly, something that Alex had only caught a glimpse of earlier with the little boy. "What a shame. I guess we're going to court."
"Yeah, I guess we are," Alex said, smiling a little as well. Ash's smile was contagious, and Alex couldn't help herself.
"You know, I think that's the first time that I've ever seen you really smile. It looks good on you, I'd like to try and make that happen more often," Ash said. Alex's cheeks reddened at the compliment, something that she hadn't expected. Alex was used to brushing off compliments, but she wanted this one from Ash. She wanted more, even if she wasn't sure of what exactly.
Tag List: @himbos-hotline @thepalaceofmelanie
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wonuwrites · 1 day
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Seventeen as Songs From “The Tortured Poet Department: The Anthology.”
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A/N: this album is fucking amazing and has inspired me to write so much. So the way I’m doing this is giving a member a song + a lyric with a mini drabble. In future I might do Song Reactions for a few of these songs *cough* Down Bad and Fortnight *cough* but until then I’m doing it like this. If anyone wants more writing of said drabbles please request it 🫶
Also before I get to warnings let me just say: this is 100% fictional and not at all how I think any of the members are irl. This album doesn’t portray the make counterpart in good light that much (minus But Daddy I Love Him, The Alchemy, + So High School.) however I'm in a angsty af mood so I’m writing it. If you hate it, im sorry. I just have to write it to process my grief. ALSO: not all of them are going to be hella angsty but most will be because this album is unhinged
Warnings: angst (not everyone's though: 96 Line + Joshua is lowkey cute,), Jun's is NSFW so Minors DNI, mentions of alcohol, breakups, heartbreak, codependency, pledis, i also wrote some swear words so if you hate bad words: this album and my writing is not for you lmaoooooo
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ღ S. Coups: The Bolter "With a quite bewitching face Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless Excellent fun 'til you get to know her Then she runs like it's a race."
Seungcheol woke up to an empty bed and couldn't help but sigh before rubbing his face. He let you in again, even after swearing to Jeonghan and Jihoon he was done. However, there was something about you that just kept him wanting more and more. He knew that you were never one for commitment because "Where was the fun in that? Commitment just is a recipe for getting hurt." He knew that trying to pursue a "bolter" was a lost cause but he just couldn't help it. He was madly in love with you and every time you left he felt more devastated than the time before. Every 11:11 he wished that one day you would let him at least try to show you that commitment could be a beautiful thing.
ღ Jeonghan: The Albatross "Locked me up in towers But I'd visit in your dreams And they tried to warn you about me."
Jeonghan knew the risks of dating you. You were what some people called a temptress and a "nightmare dressed like a daydream." He knew that there was a chance you would ruin his life and honestly, at the time, he was all in for it. He was sure he could call your bullshit however time showed that his bullshit was called out. He found out that what everyone said was not as true as they thought. He found you to be the most amazing person in this world so when you left he was heartbroken. You told him you didn't want to be what everyone said but you had to leave and you knew he would find someone even better in the long run. However, he saw you in his dreams, he saw you in faces in the street, he saw you everywhere. He missed you and wished you would be able to let him in so you could prove all of them wrong.
ღ Joshua: Fresh Out The Slammer "And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here."
You looked around the crowd of people as you entered a familiar park. You knew this place all too well and your heart was racing. You just got out of six year relationship with someone you swore was supposed to be your forever person. However, you always unintentionally compared him to your first love, Hong Jisoo. For the past year, you were mentally checked out of your relationship because all you could think about was Jisoo. You took a deep breath before you sat down on an empty swing and waited. You waited for what seemed like five hours when the swing next to you was taken. You glanced over and saw Jisoo looking at you with a soft smile. Your heart started to race as you both made eye contact. It had been so long but he looked as beautiful as ever. Jisoo then leaned over and pressed a kiss against your lips while grabbing both of your hands. You smiled as familiar lips that felt like home brought back warm memories. You then put your foreheads together before awkward giggling. "Welcome home, (Y/N)."
ღ Jun: So High School "Your friends are around, so be quiet I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school every time I look at you But look at you."
You are so head over heels for Moon Junhwi as was he over you. You both felt like it was a first love that you would have back in high school. All of the feelings you would feel back in High School came crashing back. One night when you were celebrating something with all of your friends and with his group members you both ran off into a closet and were just making out when it started to get more and more intense. You both were flushed and giggling as you both helped each other get undressed. He made sure the door was locked before attaching his lips back to you. "Try to stay quiet, baby girl," he would whisper as his fingers made their way to your nipples which caused you to softly moan into his lips. "Yes sir." A quickie would be good enough for now as you tried your best to stifle the moans and sighs that Jun was causing. If his friends knew what was going down, they kept it a secret from you but teased the hell out of him when you were gone.
ღ Hoshi: imgonnagetyouback "And I'll tell you one thing, honey, I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean."
Soonyoung and you kept crossing paths and it was honestly frustrating you. You both didn't have a horrible breakup but it still was a breakup that hurt a lot. It took everything to get over him and you swore you were over him. However, every time you saw him, you couldn't help but second guess everything. At one of these "crossroad" moments, the "crazy" in you came out after you kept making eye contact with him one too many times. You made your way across the room despite your friends trying to stop you and pulled him to an empty storage room. Both of your breath was heavy before you glared into his eyes and whispered, "I know you still want me, please come clean." This caused him to scoff before pushing you up against the door and whispering, "you first, baby girl."
holy shit, 100 notes and I will write a one shot for this one
ღ Wonwoo: But Daddy I Love Him "Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh my God, you should see your faces."
A video of one of you and Wonwoo's first dates ended up getting leaked and soon dating rumors started spreading like wildfire. There was both positive and negative thoughts from both of your fans as expected but to be honest it was just "white noise" for both of you because honestly who gave a fuck what anyone thought. When both of your CEO's sat with both of your managers and you, they informed you that dispatch was working on an article "exposing" the truth and that's when you both realized that you both wanted to be the ones to tell the fans. You decided to post on instagram a mini reel of moments between Wonwoo and you saying, "the rumors are true. wanted to let you know before dispatch told you all." Once you confirmed, there was still some negative press but mostly it was positive which Wonwoo and you were both thankful for.
omg i wanna write a one shot for this too bc what!?
ღ Woozi: The Alchemy "'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?"
Honestly, you were shocked to see Lee Jihoon brace an event like this. Especially, after all this time. It was not his crowd or in his comfort zone. You could see how nervous he was as he fiddled with his arm cuffs and nervous laughing to whatever his friend was saying. Based on rough memories you believed his friends name was "Kwon Soonyoung" but that seemed like many life times ago. It felt like a car crash when you looked at him because you couldn't turn away or look away. Memories of you both kept replaying through your memory. You just stared at the man who you once loved exist on the other side of the room. After awhile, he realized a pair of once familiar eyes were staring at him. He looked back and his face softened. It felt like a movie as you stared at each other. Neither of you remember who walked to who first but soon you both were sitting side by side at the bar laughing and recalling old memories. The hole that was in both of your hearts seemed to be patched up as the conversation progressed. When the night was over, he asked if you would be comfortable seeing him again and you couldn't say 'yes' quick enough.
ღ DK: Peter "And sometimes it gets me When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies."
"It will always be you, maybe one day we can come back together when it's not so crazy." That was the last thing you ever heard Seokmin say after you both agreed it was time to call it quits. Who's fault was it? Honestly neither of your fault. Neither you or Seokmin could say that you did not try. Of course you both tried. You both tried to make everything work but things were just too different and well 'crazy.' With his career, he was everywhere and vise versa. You both were just never in the same time zone at the same time. It was like this for months when finally it just fizzled. Time moved on, as did both of you, but when you looked out the airplane window and noticed you were flying over Seoul your heart couldn't help but mourn. You wondered what could've been. You wondered if he still laughed while clapping like a seal and if he was still sunshine for everyone he met. It broke you a bit to remember. "It will always be you, Seokmin," you whispered before closing the curtain of the window.
ღ Mingyu: Down Bad "How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded 'Cause fuck it, I was in love So fuck you if I can't have us."
"Kim Mingyu, you are a fucking coward," you whispered as you tried to hide your angry heartbroken tears from him. "(Y/N), trust me this is the last thing I want to do," he whispered with tears threatening to fall. Dispatch had found out about both of your relationship three days ago and the hate toward you was heavy. Delusional fans thought their beloved idol was cheating on them and you deserved to die because it was obviously your fault the 'affair." You were down to fight and continue forward but he couldn't handle the hate you were receiving and knowing there was only so much he could do. Fuck, maybe he was a 'fucking coward' but he was doing it because it would be safe for you. Who knows what saesangs could do to you. If anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself. He rather have you hate his guts then have you killed.
ღ Minghao: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart "I can hold my breath I've been doin' it since he left I keep finding his things in drawers Crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing."
It has been about two months since Minghao and you broke up and it honestly has felt like a fever dream since it happened. Some days were better than others. You honestly thought today was one of the 'better' days but that was before you found one of his cardigans in one of your drawers and you just couldn't help but put it on and lay on the floor. You couldn't help but remember all the memories of him and you with this cardigan. Whether he was wearing it or you were. It was warm just like the memories and it killed you. You wrapped the cardigan around you tighter around you and just sobbed. You knew one day it would stop hurting, but until then, you were just going to run with the punches and try your best to do it with a broken heart.
ღ Seungkwan: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys "'Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch He saw forever, so he smashed it up.
Seungkwan knew he fucked up the moment he stepped foot into his house after breaking things off with you. Truth be told he was terrified of you. You knew him like the back of your hand and he knew you like the back of his hand. He saw a future with you. He saw you owning a dog, living in a house in Jeju, owning a dog, having one to two kids, everything. However, he wasn't mentally ready for that. At least at the time he thought he wasn't. Now that he was alone and realizing what he had done, guilt was eating him up. He lost everything because his own damn anxiety lied and said there was danger. There was nothing he could do to fix it now.
ღ Vernon: The Black Dog "I move through the world with the heartbroken My longings stay unspoken And I may never open up thе way I did for you."
Nobody understood you the way Hansol did. He had the manuscript on what made you tick. Like how you liked your coffee over exactly five ice cubes, how you would always whisper 'thank you' before eating any kind of meats because they once had a soul, and how you would blink twice before laughing at one of his jokes. So when he made the call to end things you wondered how on earth you would ever find someone who could handle your quirks and wouldn't find you strange. It made you feel abandoned and made you hate him so much for hurting you this way. When you expressed your feelings to your friends, they would tell you it would get better eventually. Eventually, whenever "Hansol" escaped your lips to them they would tell you to stop talking. That's why you just were silently heartbroken as you replayed everything over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.
ღ Dino: So Long, London "You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waitin' for the proof."
Your phone light blinded you as you stared at Lee Chan's pointless apologies. You both had been struggling in your relationship for the last five months. You thought things were looking up until one of your best friends delivered the heartbreaking news that they saw him kissing a new stylist that started working for them ironically when things started to go shit. You felt many things. You felt betrayed, you felt hurt, you felt sick, you felt embarrassed. He swore he loved you, he pinkie swore he loved you not even three days ago. However, you trusted your best friend and you saw visual proof which was more proof or clues on how much he "loved" you. Even though it killed you, you texted back, "So Long, Iksan." before blocking his number and preparing yourself on officially getting over him.
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aerahyasashi · 5 hours
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𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐔𝐒”
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╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: You found yourself stripped of your immortality, a punishment for daring to flout the edicts laid down by your father. Your transgressions? Two-fold. First, the grave sin of disobedience, and Secondly, the cardinal offense of falling irrevocably in love with your Lady in waiting. In your father’s eyes, the sanctity of your divinity was tarnished by a same-gender relationship, a concept that he vehemently repudiated as aberrant and abhorrent. Such unforgivable love, he pontificated, dulled your goddess-like essence. Thus he used his powers and casted you adrift into a parallel universe suffused with curses and sorcerers whose love aren't really the healthy type of love, a punishment to show you that ‘Love’ isn’t all about sunshine and rainbows.
╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Gore, Slow Burn Yandere, Love Percentage Au.
╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Jjk x Fem! Isekai’d! Goddess Reader.
╰┈➤𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieri, Yuki Tsukumo, Kento Nanami, Utahime Iori, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Also posted in Quotev and Wattpad
╰┈➤𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,604 words.
╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
╰┈➤𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
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WITH A TILT OF your head, you felt a slight shudder travel through your body when Ataraxia's fingers grazed your at your skin. The warmth of her breath against your skin sent a comforting sensation as you took a deep inhale.
“I know you already have a plethora of jewelry, but... I want to give you this as a token of my affection,” she whispered, her nimble fingers placing a delicate necklace on your neck. You noticed that her nails were currently painted with an azure hue that mirrored the depths of her eyes that was akin to the vast ocean.
“Your nail color, it's different,” you murmured, recalling her once pristine nails that were adorned with silver accents.
“Yes,” Ataraxia replied, pausing to meet your gaze, feeling the pad of your thumb tracing the curve of her lips.
“It suits you,” you complimented, prompting her to release a flattered laugh.
“Well, you mentioned adoring the color of my eyes, so I decided to match it with my nails, my lady, ‘have to hear some compliments coming from my girl’s  pretty mouth, you know?” she confessed with a laugh.
You heaved a contented sigh, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead, your lips pressing against her forehead longer than expected.
“mhm, ‘course i do,” You mumbled. “After all, why wouldn't i?”
“I could look into your eyes for all eternity and not get bored at all. your eyes is orphic and i see the stars in them. You're the half of my soul, my lucent apricity inscape.”
As you spoke, the words flowed smoothly from your mouth as you reclined back. Ataraxia blinked, feeling butterflies on her stomach because of your words. A laugh bubbled up in her throat as she leaned in to gently kiss your neck, making you hum. Her hand lingered against the curve of your waist, her fingers deftly caressing it before moving to place the necklace again.
“What a romantic goddess i have,”
Ataraxia murmured, her voice laced with a touch of fluster. A pink hue kissed her cheeks, caught off guard by this unexpected display of romance from you. Normally, you exuded chaos and an adventurous spirit, with a penchant for using vulgar language, even in the presence of Aionarch—Like a total brazzen mindless rogue. She couldn't fathom who had imparted such vocabulary to you though. Yet, in this moment, your unexpected romanticism rendered her speechless, your words leaving her in awe.
“I never pegged you for a romantic, sinta.” she jested, and you responded by playfully rolling your eyes.
“I'm not,” you insisted, exhaling heavily as your chest rose and fell with each breath.
“But you are,” she countered with a tender smile. “Only with you,” you admitted, for It was true; you didn't display this side of yourself to others and Ataraxia was the singular exception.
“I'm flattered then.” She replied.
"Maybe I keep some surprises up my sleeve,” you mused,
“You make it sound like I've uncovered a hidden treasure,” she jested.
“Perhaps you have,” you whispered as you looked it the necklace, the upper part of the necklace resembled a tiara that was adorned electroplated chains with a blue sapphire at its center.
“What's the significance of this though?” you questioned softly, feeling Ataraxia's warm fingertips brushing against the curve of your neck, fastening the necklace tighter so it won't fall.
“It's pretty,” you whispered, a smile playing on your lips as your eyes reflected a mix of wonder and perplexity as you felt the cool metal of the necklace pressed against your collarbone.
“You're prettier,” Ataraxia responded before stepping back, a satisfied look on her face. 
“I know,” you acknowledged, reaching up to gently touch the necklace, marveling at its craftsmanship with parted lips as you glanced at Ataraxia.
“Enlighten me, though, sinta. Why did you give me this?” you inquired once more.  
“You radiate beauty,”  Ataraxia responded with a tone of admiration, her voice filled with warmth and a bright smile lighting up her face as she cleverly sidestepped your query, leaving you momentarily confused.
“I know, and so are you radiating beauty,” you stated nonchalantly as you fluttered your eyelashes, peering down at her intently.
“You seem to be evading my query though, why is that, hm?” you added with a hint of teasing, prompting Ataraxia to playfully roll her eyes at you. 
“Am I really?” she quipped. 
“Yeah? and I want you to answer my question,” you persisted, a playful pout forming on your lips as you lightly poked her cheek, eliciting a giggle from her. 
“So persistent and curious, are you?”
She softly told you, her voice smooth as a velvet as her fingers glided along your jawline in a relaxed and leisure manner, following a pattern with attention to detail.
“But where's the fun in giving away my secrets so easily?”
She said, earning an amused scoff from you.
“Fine, keep your secrets then.” you responded with a hint of amusement playing on your countenance.
“But know that I'm not one to shy away from a challenge.” your smirk was strained and forced.
“Hmm, Are you sure?” Ataraxia inquired, a quizzical expression crossing her features as she observed the subtle transformation of the smirk on your countenance suddenly dipping down into a frown. 
“Hey, now, don't let your emotions boil over, do not sulk, beautiful,”
Ataraxia soothed, her head shaking gently as she witnessed you folding your arms across your chest, a petulant pout betraying your irritation as you averted your gaze. Ataraxia couldn't help but notice the sporadic bouts of childishness that colored your demeanor, yet it was precisely this aspect of your personality that endeared you to her. She cherished you for your authentic self.
“That exquisite visage of yours was sculpted to be worshipped, not for melancholy,” Ataraxia whispered softly, her touch delicate as she caressed your cheeks with a tender hand. 
“Don't be mad, goddess,”
“That necklace, it's just a gift from a girl who's hopelessly in love with you,”
She finally revealed, seemingly wanting to end the banter, but unfortunately for her, you won't let the reason slip through your fingers like the morning mist.
“Is it really?”
“Why’re you feeling so suspicious about my intentions, my soul? Is it truly objectionable to give a gift to the one who brings brightness to my darkest hours and warmth to my coldest moments?”
She evaded your suspicions once again as she pinched your cheeks as if they were her own personal stress reliever, You could feel her soft hands and the pads of her fingers pressing against your facial muscles and you couldn't help but smirk as you allowed her to have her way while your fingers gently ran through her dark, glossy onyx hair, humming as you felt the velvety texture of each individual strand, her hair was soft and smooth,  akin to the luxurious feel of fine silk against your skin.
天罰
The memories of her lingered in your mind, the gentle brush of her touch, the melodic tones of her voice, and every detail of her presence filled your thoughts.
Your brows knit in puzzlement, a furrowed ridge of hesitation etching across your features as the memory of her giving you the necklace suddenly came in your mind—your divine intuition was telling you something, and you know it.
But what was it telling you?
Your hand dipped down to your neckline, feeling the sensation of the chilled metal meeting your fingertips before letting your hand fall down to your collarbone, tracing the lines of your clavicle.
‘Are you trying to tell me something, ataraxia?’ You wondered.
Your shoulders stiffened imperceptibly, a subtle tension creeping into your muscles as thoughts of ataraxia plagued your mind. Could she be alluding to a hidden warning? Telling you about a foreboding  danger?
You raised a hand to touch your neck, your finger tips pressing against the scalene muscles as you listened to your pulse, it was a rhythm that perhaps was a bit fast than usual.
You noticed the incongruity between your mind and body, you could sense that even your body language and  rigid posture was telling you that something was wrong.
Your eyes then drifted downwards and you noticed the faint outline of a scar on your wrists, along with other cut marks.
‘What the hell?’ You lifted your wrist up for closer examination, and it was indeed a scar. 
Why did your wounds turned into scars instead of just disappearing like it always did?
Though, that wasn't the only thing that was confusing you in your regeneration ability, you also noticed that the wounds you sustained refused to heal in your normal form, leading you to speculate if aionarch had intervened in some way—probably, and that is why you were forced to shapeshift.
Transforming into a phoenix granted you the ability to regenerate, a trait that allowed you to heal all traces of injury—but why did your body marred scars?
Suddenly, you remembered that when you woke up an inexplicable sense of foreboding stirred within you, because a very heavy something probably smacked and was thrown into you—You ended up transforming back into your human form though after that.
You paused as recollections of past adversaries of throwing heavy obstacles your way resurfaced in your mind. One particularly vivid memory involved being ostracized by the people of your celestial empire, who had secretly formed an official aionarch haters fanclub.
And since you have a deep-seated animosity towards your father, you attempted to join the group, only to be rejected by its members, all because you were his fucking daughter.
Despite your attempts to distance yourself from aionarch's actions, and to claim that you're not like him, you were branded as a sycophant , a pick me girl and ostracized. The fanclub went as far as hurling a massive pillar at you that probably was around 27 ft.
The memory made you cringe, but ultimately, you slightly found satisfaction in the fact that aionarch took revenge by killing all those who had dared to harm you. It was perhaps the only act of paternal care you received from that tyrant throughout your life—protecting you at all costs.
It was a bittersweet realization though—that while he shielded you from external threats, there was no protection from his own tyrannical tendencies. In the end, the question remained—who would safeguard you from him?
No one. Not even your mother can protect you from him. He was the most powerful being after all.
And as there was no one else to shield you from him, you had no choice but to take matters into your own hands. Your instinct was to safeguard yourself and also protect ataraxia, yet the repercussions eventually caught up with you. Now, he has transported you to this weird realm, leaving you feeling disoriented and uncertain.
Wait, hold up, How did your thoughts went from ataraxia to this? Why can't you just focus on one thought?
A sudden sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach, signaling that something dangerous was imminent.
Your brows knit together in concentration, your hearing sharpening as you instinctively straightened your shrimp posture. 
The wind began to howl, the leaves on the trees and on the ground rustled loudly. Suddenly, there was sounds of movements followed by silence—and two creatures emerged out of nowhere.
The silence around you seemed deafening, with only the faint ringing in your ears breaking through the quiet, and as you focused on the scene before you, your eyes suddenly widened, your pupils shrinking, lips parting slightly.
Your face twisted in disgust as you gazed upon the strange creatures before you. They bore a striking resemblance to the hideous beings that inhabits the underworld—They were ugly as fuck.
One of the creatures had a grotesque appearance—three eyes and a bird-like body armed with sharp blade-like wings. Another creature appeared more human-like—a woman one at that. it was wearing a white kimono yet its elongated neck twisted in an unnatural way, resembling marshmallow, it has a smile on its face like a porcelain doll, as well as make up.
“What the fuck is that?” You gawked.
The sight of the woman's unnaturally contorted long neck caused a sickening sensation in your stomach. As her head twisted and inverted before your eyes, you felt a wave of revulsion wash over you. A feeling of nausea caused bile to rise up in your lower esophageal sphincter then to your throat. Desperately trying to suppress the urge to vomit, you forced down all the stomach acid that threatened to spill out.
“Uh.. who are you two?” You said awkwardly, not knowing what to say as you took a step back.
Suddenly, the strange woman-like creature extended its fucking hair which transformed into long blsck tendrils, it swiftly shot forth in your direction and coiled around your ankles, securing its hold with such intensity that it felt like a leech stubbornly latching onto you, it has a sharpness akin to thorns on a rose, causing a sensation of pain as it pricked at your skin.
“Wait— what the fuck?!”
Your throat constricted as the tendrils tightened its grip, almost as if it were attempting to fracture your bones, the tendrils reminded you so much of the vines from Xeranthi's magical (cursed) garden—that was crafted specifically to harm Aionarch. those vines possessed a deadly poison capable of harming deities, with thorns as sharp as blades that could pierce through the skin of anyone who came into contact with them—and you know it, after all, you first-hand experienced those.
For you had the same eyes as your father and lacking any resemblance to your mother, you were mistaken for aionarch by the vine. It took a week to completely rid yourself of the poison, but you managed to survive the ordeal though. However, the main focus here is the tendrils of the woman, which bore a striking resemblance to the vine found in your mother's garden—so perhaps they could be removed just as the same way xeranthi's vines could be removed.
You leaned forward, a grimace on your face, you gritted your teeth together, hands dipping down and wrapping around the tendrils in an attempt to pull out the stubborn thing embedded in your skin. The sharp thorns dug into your flesh, causing a sharp sting that made you involuntarily let out a ‘tch’ of discomfort.
“Hey! Let go” you exclaimed, annoyance evident in your voice. your fingers constricted tight on to the slimy tendrils with all your might as your knuckles grew taut and pale as you strained against the creature's grasp, pushing through the flesh-like appendages, your fingers pierced through the tendrils like a needle piercing through a fine cloth and Purple-hued blood seeped from the torn flesh, staining your skin as you finally managed to break free from its hold on your ankle. The creature let out a piercing shriek of disbelief and pain, its grip faltering as you tore through its twisted form, the sound reverberating in your ears long after it had let you go.
Your lips compressed into a tight line, brows drawn together in consternation, while a swift, harsh inhale rushed through your nostrils as you took in a fighting stance.
Just as you dared to believe you had eluded the danger, the sinewy tendrils struck once more, ensnaring both your hands and seizing your ankles. It yanked your limbs all together , binding them securely. Your jaw slackened in a moment of shock. A sharp sound of frustration escaping your lips as your body contorted, attempting to escape the sinewy grasp encircling you.
A growl of frustration bubbles in your throat as you began to babble and rant.
“First that manwhore aionarch almost killed me and tortured me on that light thingy and then something smacked my back, and then my wounds refused to heal and.. and ”
You don't even know why you're ranting right now but you know that you needed to buy time, to find out the weakness of thede creatures. Squinting down at the ugly creatures, you noticed that The creatures remained ominously silent while their visages showed a snarl—teeth baring at you.
“and.. now you're trying to fuck the already fucked up things up!” you exclaimed, each word dripping with annoyance as you exhaled sharply, your breath billowing visibly in the air. Your nails dug fiercely into the writhing tendrils, the pressure of your grip akin to a vice.
“Well, tell you what—”
Your monologue was cut short by a startled yelp that involuntarily erupted from your throat as the  tendrils tightened.
“You! I'll kill—!”
the tree-eyed creature suddenly spun around rapidly, resembling a beyblade hurtling towards you with the intention to cut the shit out of you but with swift reflexes, you managed to roll to the side and narrowly avoid its attack.
“WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL IS THAT?!”
Your vocal cords scraped against the confines of your throat as a shriek clawed its way out of your lips with the whites of your eyes stretched wide, aghast as the tendrils hoisted you into the air by your lower limbs, suspending you in air like a  prey awaiting the jaws of ravenous predators.
Unexpectedly, the twisting tendrils of the woman like creature forcefully slammed you to the ground, causing pain to shot forth through you as your face made impact with the surface. Clenching your jaw in pain, you felt the tendrils hoist you up once more, the movement accompanied by the sharp stab of a broken nose and crimson-tinted blood dripping from your nostrils. The coppery flavor of blood mixed with the ache as it trickled down your forehead as the collision with the ground seared your skin upon contact.
‘Kill them.’
A voice in your head said, and your hand began to heat up and generate fire as your eyes shook with fury as you placed your hand in its tendrils.
With a piercing shriek, the woman recoiled as its tendrils were engulfed in a searing inferno ignited by you, and soon enough, the woman was set on fire and burned.
The creature, spinning, refused to retreat unlike its predecessor though. You raised your hands, fire already beginning to take form, and With lightning speed, the distance between you two evaporated, and a breathless moment ensued as the lethal edges loomed perilously close to your flesh.
But just as the lethal edges were about to make contact, your necklace suddenly exploded, and sharp ice shards surged forth forward towards the threat.
Your eyes widened in disbelief, the rush of adrenaline drowning out all sound except for the erratic drumming of your heart in your chest. A gasp escaped your lips, your jaw slackening in astonishment, as you witnessed the shattered remains of the necklace metamorphose into icy constructs, aswell as the way those massive, sharp icicles erupted from the ground, impaling the creature and causing its innards to spill out as it was skewered by the ice. The body slowly slumped down along the icy pillars, while the creature's organs remained suspended at the tips of the shards.  
More icicles suddenly shot up from the ground, heading directly towards the other burning creature that slammed you on the ground. The icicles pierced through the creature's body,  leaving it impaled by ice shards. The sharp points of the icicles penetrated deep into its skull, specifically targeting its cerebral cortex and the intricate folds of its brain spurted out of the broken skull. purple-colored fluid began to trickle down from the creature, The sounds of the ice breaking through flesh and bone, mixed with the creature's faint sound of being in pain, filled the air.
You stood there in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide as you took in the sight of the two creatures impaled by the ice. Your focus shifted from them to the source of the ice itself, causing a chill to run down your spine and making your hands hesitate to summon fire. As you glanced down at the broken necklace given to you by Ataraxia, a sudden realization struck you. Could it have been Ataraxia who created this ice? Recalling the intricate ice statue of you she had made for your room, you couldn't help but connect the dots. It seemed entirely possible that Ataraxia was behind this. You studied the ice on the ground, noticing the resemblance to the ice crystals you were familiar with from Ataraxia's creations. 
As you felt a lump forming in your throat, your brows knitted together in confusion upon realizing that it was, in fact, Ataraxia. Could the necklace she had been a deliberate act to shield you from harm? You couldn't help but recall that she had always been vague about the true purpose of the necklace, but now it all made sense—it was meant to keep you safe. A sense of relief washed over you, causing your shoulders to sag slightly in a moment of realization. However, your brief respite was interrupted by a flash of crimson light hurtling towards you, causing you to freeze in your tracks. And the only thought that raced through your mind was the urgent need to transform into another form as a means of defense.  
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𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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For unknown reasons, the strange impulse to morph into a worm consumed your thoughts, leading you to to shapeshift into a fucking worm. Now, as a grotesque, oversized worm, you slithered awkwardly amidst the wreckage of the forest you and ataraxia's ice decimated, bewildered by your own actions.
Why had you chosen to shapeshift into this repulsive form? The mere thought of humans catching sight of you in this state made your skin crawl—Because imagine seeing an oversized worm that has a fucking face. You let out a frustrated groan, humiliation flooding your senses as you dragged your elongated body through the damp soil.
While you cannot fathom the reasoning behind it, you acknowledge that it proved advantageous when a crimson light materialized, because you mannaged to burrow onto the ground and maneuver like the very creature you had become. Though decidedly larger than your average worm, the discomfort of your current guise paled in comparison to the necessity for survival.
But still, it's fucking weird to turn into a worm!
Sure, you may have had asked ataraxia if she would love you even if you were a worm, but you did not expect that those whimsical musings would soon turn into a reality. Now, as you squirmed in your transformed state, embodying the guise of a worm, a gnawing curiosity plagued your mind—would Ataraxia love this wretched appearance now? 
But speaking of Ataraxia, you were convinced that the creatures that had viciously attacked you was killed by the said goddess. Ataraxia's handiwork was unmistakable. And you were grateful, for had it not been for her protection through the necklace, you would've been six feet underground.
Crawling clumsily across the ground, a sudden interruption shattered the eerie silence. A deep, voice pierced the air, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“There you are,” the voice echoed, sending a chill through your exoskeleton. Confusion gripped you, your worm-like mouth forming slurred words in an unrecognizable tone. Before you could comprehend the situation, strong hands enveloped your form, lifting you from the ground easily as if you're not an overweight worm, and you could feel the rough touch of the calloused palms against your slimy exoskeleton.
You stared in disbelief. You couldn't comprehend the situation unfolding before you. Whose hands were these that had picked you up so abruptly? The touch of the fingers that gripped you felt slimy against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. 
Looking upwards, you saw a burly and muscular man with shoulder-length straight black hair framing his face. His eyes bore a greenish hue, and it bore into yours with an intensity that made you uneasy. The man had thin eyebrows, a scar on his lip, and a ruggedly handsome appearance, but that was not your main focus, because your focus is on unexpectedly large boobs.
You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sheer size of his manly bosom.  Because what the fuck, why is his boobs so big?
“Finished eatin’ already, huh?” he remarked, amusement evident in his tone.
“Good, ‘cause we’re leavin’, need to get money, ‘cause we’re currently broke,”
What. You gawked.
Without warning, he hoisted you onto his shoulders, his broad frame supporting your weight effortlessly. You barely had time to process the situation before a pungent odor assaulted your senses, emanating from the man's body. 
The stench of sweat mixed with expired saliva overwhelmed you. What the fuck is this smell? You felt like crying, does this man even showers?
He smelled so bad.
Trying to resist the urge to revert back to your original form took every ounce of strength and willpower you possessed.
Reflecting back, you were beginning to regret transforming into a worm in the first place, given the uncomfortable situation you now found yourself in. However, you couldn't have possibly predicted that the man would jus casually pick you up and place you on his shoulder; it seemed illogical for anyone to treat a large, worm with a face in such a peculiar manner.  
The stench that emanated from him was unbearable, a putrid scent that was assaulting your senses. It was so overpowering that you couldn't help but wonder if your reaction was warranted or an exaggeration in the moment. and In your effort to distance yourself, you wriggled and twisted, desperate to evade the offensive grasp of his unwashed shoulders.
Because what's the point of surviving death from the two creatures that attacked you when this man's smell is killing you instead?
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𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟎𝟐 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒
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Suguru placed a restraining hand on the small of satoru's waist, a gesture meant to prevent the white haired man from impulsively lunging at their teacher. It was clear that Satoru was poised to do just that, fueled by his intense enthusiasm.
Satoru continued to speak and babble about the phoenix, telling yaga and shoko how powerful they would become if they were to cook and eat the phoenix, while Suguru let out a resigned sigh and turned his eyes away. Suguru had an initial plan to have his powerful cursed spirits subdue and incapacitate the phoenix, but unfortunately for him, they were killed for some unknown reasons.
These grade one cursed spirits were incredibly strong and not easy to defeat, so how did they get killed? The mystery of who had killed his cursed spirits lingered in Suguru's mind, causing his brows to furrow as a sense of unease settled in. His throat constricted imperceptibly, and he unconsciously tightened his grip on Satoru's waist, but the man didn't seemed bothered as he was too deep in telling shoko and yaga what they found in the Forrest.
“I swear! There's a phoenix in the forest and it was talking too!” He raised his hands and utilized dramatic gestures to emphasize his point. 
“Oh yeah?”
Shoko drawled, showing her interest in Satoru's statement. However, a closer examination of her eyes revealed doubt about the truthfulness of satoru's words. It was clear that she did not believe him, as it seemed far-fetched to think that someone like Satoru, who seemed immature and is a total manchild, had actually encountered a talking phoenix in the forest. After all, phoenixes are mythical creatures and they are extinct and animals can't speak.
Therefore, it was likely that Satoru was simply dreaming. Shoko's gaze shifted to Suguru, noticing his discomfort and the disoriented look on his face, as if he was deep in thought. This observation caused Shoko to raise her brows, questioning whether Satoru's story could be true after all. 
Humoring Satoru, Shoko asked, “How large was it?” This simple question made Satoru feel heard and acknowledged.
Puffing out his chest, Satoru exclaimed,
“It was huge!” He illustrated the size by making a wide circle motion with his hand. 
 “Like very huge!”
Yaga, feeling exasperated, questioned,
“Are you sure that this isn't just a dream?”
After listening to Satoru's verbose monologue for nearly thirty minutes, yaga had become extremely tired. Yaga observed Suguru's uncharacteristic silence, making yaga believe that there's something fishy happening.
The relentless rambling had started to erode Yaga's confidence in Satoru's credibility, making it challenging for him to believe in the veracity of his words—especially since satoru's words were delivered poorly.
“I swear I'm not lying!” Satoru insisted defensively, his jaw tensing slightly.   Why is it so difficult for them to trust him? Is their faith in him so fragile? It is quite baffling, because if only Yaga would have faith in him, they could successfully capture the phoenix, cook it, and enjoy a lavish feast!
Who wouldn't be excited about having a mythical creature like the phoenix as their meal? After all, the phoenix supercharged version of chicken.
Why is it so hard for them to grasp the potential powers they could acquire by eating the phoenix? Satoru was dumbfounded by the inability of the others to comprehend his plan. While he was trying to be strategic, they dismissed his ideas as mere fantasies. It was truly frustrating for him to witness such narrow-mindedness.  
Satoru shifted his gaze towards suguru, hoping that his friend's word would hold more weight in the situation. suguru had always been known for his honesty and reliability, qualities that could potentially sway others' opinions in their favor.
While satoru considered that his own credibility might not be enough to convince others, he felt confident that suguru's reputation would lend more credibility to their shared message. essentially, there was a slim possibility that yaga would be more inclined to trust suguru's account of events than satoru's.  
“Suguru saw it too!” Satoru said, pulling the black haired man out of his thoughts.
“Uh... yes..” Suguru murmured in a low voice, his brows knitting as Satoru gradually shifted his weight and leaned closer, the warmth of his back pressing into Suguru's chest.
“See? Even suguru knows it!” 
“You're blackmailing him,”   Yaga spoke in a flat tone, observing Suguru's unease and coming to the conclusion that Satoru was likely pressuring the man for some reason.  
“I would never do such a thing!” Satoru denied vigorously, shaking his head, feeling offended.
“Well, in reality, you might,” Shoko chimed in, a smile playing on her lips as she leaned her head in her palms in intrigue.
“You blackmailed utahime-senpai back then, so who's to say that you won't blackmail geto?” Shoko pointed out as her mind drifted back to the time when Satoru had wielded a juicy piece of blackmail against Utahime after catching her in the midst of doing some bizarre ritual while wearing a cult mask. As the memory resurfaced, Satoru swiftly interjected,
“That was back then”
“He did what?” Yaga's voice cut through the room like a dagger, his eyes boring into Shoko. The air crackled with tension as she met his gaze with a nonchalant shrug, her fingers deftly weaving intricate braids in her hair.
“He blackmailed Utahime-senpai,” Shoko confessed with a chill grin dancing on her lips.
“Gojo,” Yaga uttered in a low, warning tone.
A deep groan escaped Satoru as he shifted uneasily, the vein on his neck pulsating with frustration. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of irritation at the changing dynamics of their conversation. Satoru was in no mood to dwell with a topic consisting utahime.
“Come on! Let's just shift our focus back to the phoenix,” Satoru pleaded, his exasperation palpable.
“But i assure you guys, I have no intentions of resorting to blackmail, Suguru.” His words were tinged with a hint of grumbling discontent. Shoko couldn't help but chuckle softly at the exchange, finding amusement in the banter unfolding before her.
Sensing the escalating tension, Suguru let out a weary sigh, his patience waning as he longed for the ordeal to reach its resolution.
“Seems like someone's on the verge of tears,” he remarked with an air of exasperation, unable to suppress his frustration any longer.
“Crybaby.”
Satoru’s gasp of mock offense filled the air in response to the taunt.
“HUH? you're supposed to be on my side!” Satoru whined.
“you know what? Suguru, just speak up and tell em'!” Satoru said, his succulent lips curved into a petulant pout, and his long, white lashes fluttered as he fixed his imploring gaze on Suguru.
Suguru's brow knitted in confusion as he reached a hand to knead the tense knots in his neck, feeling the stress of the situation coil like a viper within him. “Tell them what?” he questioned dumbly.
“That I'm tellin' the truth” 
“This is stupid”   Yaga let out a deep sigh, filled with exasperation, as he watched Satoru seemingly wasting their precious time. The exaggerated claims made by Satoru, such as talking about a speaking phoenix, sounded so far-fetched and unrealistic to Yaga. The idea of cooking and eating a phoenix seemed particularly foolish and nonsensical to him too.
“It is, sensei.”
Shoko agreed, her indifference palpable as she lounged on her chair, feigning interest while observing the unfolding drama.
“UGH! If you guys won't believe me then just ask suguru!”
Suguru was completely unprepared and struggled to find the right words, his mouth moving—closing and opening as if he were a fish out of water. He shifted his eyes away, unsure of how to properly convey the situation. Yaga, Shoko, and Satoru watched him closely, their eyes fixed on him as they waited for a response from him.
“Well?” Yaga tapped his foot.
“Why me?” suguru asked them with narrowed eyes, mouth dipping down into a frown, shoulders slouching in tension.
“Nevermind,” he muttered, a strained yet bemused smile playing on his lips as he endeavored to maintain a facade of composure.
“Satoru is telling the truth,” Suguru finally affirmed, his gaze sincere as he sought to convey his conviction to the skeptics before him.
“You're only defending him because he's your bestfriend ” Yaga said, the skepticism evident in his tone while watching suguru poke Satoru's cheek with his forefinger, the pads of suguru's fingers lightly traced the curve of satoru's jawline as he looked at yaga, a small smirk forming in his lips.
“It's true though. You guys should see it for yourself.”
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𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄
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𑁍ࠬܓ━━𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒:
𝟎𝟎𝟏.Ataraxia’s given necklace
So the necklace is specifically made to protect [Name], it won’t get triggered if [Name] was fighting, but it will get triggered if [Name] is gonna die from the attack that she was about to receive.
𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒:
𝟎𝟎𝟏.The fight only lasted for about 3 minutes and it was really fast, just kind of placed sn expanded version of the cringe fight or whatever.
𝟎𝟎𝟐.Toji had mistaken [Name] for his worm because [Name] ended up shapeshifting into toji's worm unintentionally and coincidentally, he also doesn't know that it's not his worm because he doesn't know the difference, save for the smell.
𝟎𝟎𝟑.When toji said that "you finished eating" it means that the worm had finished feeding on whatever dead animal/human is on the forest because the forest [Name] was in is sort of a suicide forest.
𝟎𝟎𝟒.Toji's real worm was still eating.
𝟎𝟎𝟓.Yaga accepted after hearing the 2 hour explanation of suguru and sent the first years to confirm whether there really is a phoenix.
𝟎𝟎𝟔.Red was released after two minutes because gojo kept on getting distracted
🔪 || 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒
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╰┈➤ ; 𝟎%
—𝐒atoru is already imagining how you would taste<3. He begged to join yu and kento in searching for you in the forest, but kento didn't want him to join them.
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╰┈➤ 𝟓% (𝐔𝐩 𝟑%)
—𝐒uguru was already having suspicions about you, he asked if you were a creation of yaga but the older male said no, and suguru was very much starting to have thoughts that you're not really a phoenix, and he was starting to suspect that you're a shapeshifter or something. (He watches theory videos about shapeshifting things)
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╰┈➤ 𝟎%
—𝐓oji was confused because his worm is acting weird, though, he's still clueless that you're not actually his worm. He's still confused though, because you doesn't smell like his worm.
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╰┈➤ 𝟐% (𝐔𝐩 𝟐%)
—𝐒hoko was intrigued by you. She wanted to see you. Or maybe she just wanted to conduct experiments on you. She still doesn't believe that you exist though. 
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𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
Satoru is very much gonna act like a brat in here. Also, I'm kind of pissed at gege for giving my boy suguru an L. Like he nerfed suguru and all that, like giving all the attention and power to yuta, satoru and yuki but making suguru weak. It just pissed me off. I intend to make him powerful as he is, just like his and satoru's title as the “strongest”.
Anyways, It's kind of a thing in my country where we count toji as "maasim" (smelly) cause he seems like he doesn't take a bath or something HAHHAHA, and also, enjoy the readers life as toji's worm<3 (for now).
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danisbrainrot · 1 day
Text
tell your boyfriend
natalie scatorccio x reader
warnings: cheating (sorry not sorry, travis), reader being a shitty person, angst
ever since I found out this song was actually about a woman, I don't know why, but I immediately thought of nat. I can't explain it LMFAO.
it had been weeks since the plane crashed, and the team was condemned to suffering in the wilderness. it was lucky lottie had found the cabin in the first place, but as you swung the axe high in the air, before bringing it down with a resounding crack, you started to wonder if life would've been better if you died in the crash.
you were starving, delirious and weak. there was no sign of a rescue team—who knows how long you'd have to spend out here. watching natalie and travis walking back, hand in hand, you felt yourself growl quietly to yourself. it wasn't fair that travis, who'd never talked to nat before the crash was dating her, but you—who'd loved her for years—were forced to watch from arms length. the sight wasn't made any better when you noticed the absence of meat.
everyone was teasing the two of them, causing you to storm off into the forest. you couldn't help but find everything unfair. falling for a girl who liked a boy—knowing if you were a boy, she'd love you.
kicking over a pile of leaves, you took out your anger on the forest. you hadn't even noticed natalie, until you almost pegged a rock at her (you'd meant to get the log). "oh my god, I'm sorry nat," you exclaimed, running towards her to see if she was okay.
she snorts, moving closer to you. "feeling hangry?" she teased, taking a seat on the log you were aiming at previously. you sarcastically laugh in response, taking a seat next to her.
"joke all you want, if you spent less time fucking travis and more time looking for animals, I wouldn't be destroying the forest," you snap, feeling your stomach begin growling. nat's eyebrow raised teasingly, eyes pointed at your tummy. it's timing was uncanny.
"we're not fucking," natalie replied, making your heart race in excitement. "I mean, I'd like to. . . but he can't get it up."
knowing this was your chance, you took advantage of this information. "maybe he's gay?" you reply, trying to sound as earnest as you can. you nudge her side, "no straight man could resist you," you wink at her teasingly, receiving a soft shove to your shoulder.
"I've always trusted your gaydar. . . but I don't think this is it," she mumbles in response, leaning forward and placing her chin in her hands.
there was a beat of silence, as you desperately try to come up with a plausible explanation to break them up. "you could always ask coach, I'm sure he'd know all about gays," you joke.
nat turned her head slightly to face you, "you're right. maybe I should—" your heart sank, realising that she was seriously thinking about it.
"have you thought that maybe he's interested in someone else? and you're just a distraction," you blurted out, wishing you could take it back immediately.
nat scoffed, standing up, "yeah, thanks. that makes me feel fucking fantastic," she snapped, stomping away.
"nat! I'm sorry!" you called out, but she ignored you.
«—(♥)—»
later that night, you found yourself in the storage room, with your stomach growling. you knew that mari was hiding some berries in here and you were so hungry that you no longer cared about stealing.
the sound of creaking behind you made you jump in fright, whipping around to let out some excuse when you realised it was just natalie. "oh, I thought you were mari," you mumble, turning back to continue your quest.
"looking for her secret stash?" she asked, you tried to work out if her tone was curious or teasing. "it's behind the box there."
when she pointed in the direction, you side eyed her, wondering how he knew where it was. glad that she'd shown you, you decided not to ask. you pulled out a large white bucket and hungrily opened the lid, only to be disappointed at the contents. "she's letting them ferment?"
you turn to face natalie, who shrugs, "it's not that bad. it's pretty strong though, just made purely out of berries, makes you get drunk quicker," she explains; you snort at her, shaking your head.
"you'd have a lot of experience with being drunk," you snipe.
"hilarious, you know you're so funny, you should think about joining snl," she replied sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.
you sighed, putting your head in your hands. "I'm so hungry, nat. I can't keep living like this," you whisper, on the verge of tears.
natalie sits down next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "it'll be okay, I promise. travis and I are heading to a new place tomorrow, we'll find deer there, I'm sure," she soothes. you lay your head on her shoulder, playing with her hand on your thigh.
"a new place to hunt? or a new place to fuck?" you snapped.
narrowing her eyes at you, she scoffed and got up, "you know, I liked that you weren't like the others, that you never slutshamed me. . . I guess you're just like the rest of them," she replied, leaving you alone.
you knew it was stupid to take your unrequited feelings out on her, especially because she didn't owe you romantic love. however, it killed you watching her fall in love with travis—and the hunger eating you away wasn't making you a nicer person either.
tentatively scooping some of the berry juice in your hand, sipping it, when you heard mari approaching. in a panic, you'd never put something away so quickly.
«—(♥)—»
natalie trudged through the forest with travis in defeat; the gun slung over her shoulder serving as a reminder of her duty as hunter—a duty she was failing. their eyes were still peeled for any deer, hopeful for any last minute catches. however, it seemed like all the animals in the forest knew about their plans.
groaning, nat put her head in her hands and sat on the log. "this is fucking stupid," she grumbles, ignoring travis as he took a seat next to her.
"maybe we should stay put here, just for a little while," he suggests, his thigh brushing against hers. nat rested her chin against her knees and offered him a weak smile.
neither of them noticed you, hiding in the bushes, having given up scavenging for berries. they'd been gone for three hours, leaving everyone else in the cabin to search for food—and for what? it seemed no one would be eating anything. . . meat or fruit. the disappointing view of just the two of them made your stomach growl, reminding you of how long you've gone without eating something substantial.
stepping on a twig accidentally, you winced as both their heads snap in your direction. "you're following us now? disappointed to see we aren't having sex?" natalie sniped, getting up and walking towards you.
showing off your basket, you know that she wouldn't believe you even if it's true. "just hunting for berries, figured they were further out than usual," you mumble, taking a step back the closer she got.
it wasn't until you were both face to face, your chest heaving and trying to look tough, that natalie smirked. "I get it, you're hungry, but you don't have to follow us," she teased.
you rolled your eyes, "travis, can you give us a moment?" you asked, your heart racing as you come to terms with what you're about to do.
travis scoffs, looking at nat for confirmation, who only gestured for him to return to the cabin. in shock, he sent her an odd look, before standing up, and walking away silently.
natalie turned to face you again, "what did you want to talk about?"
"i wanted to apologise. you're right, I shouldn't be slutshaming you because I'm hungry. . ." you pause, wondering whether or not you should continue. desperate to tell her about your feelings, you could feel your heartbeat raising impossibly fast. "it's actually so stupid—the real reason I was mad at you."
natalie raised her eyebrows teasingly, placing her hands on her waist and smirking at you. "let me guess, the real reason is that you like me?" you stare at her stunned, "please, you don't think I know? I'm not Jackie," she laughs. you feel a blush coming across your cheeks.
sliding her thumb through your jean loops, nat pulled you closer to her, until your chest was pressed against hers. "how'd you find out?" you whisper, looking up at her in awe.
"because I may or may not feel the same about you," she mumbles, her lips inches from yours.
"what about travis?" you ask; nat shrugs in response, finally pressing her lips against yours. initially, you freeze, not kissing her back, until she gripped your waist firmly, holding you in place, encouraging you to kiss her back passionately.
wrapping your hands around her neck, natalie pulls away for a second, "I should probably tell my boyfriend," she whispers. you raise your eyebrows in shock.
"tell him what? that I'm your girlfriend now?" you teased, eliciting laughter from the blonde. she nodded, before placing her fingers under your chin and pulling you in for another kiss.
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