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hey-august · 4 months

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I'll Be Your Whatever - Chapter 2

Story Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Chapter 1) Word count: ~1.9k Warnings: SFW, some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader. No use of Y/N. A/N: Fake dating is one of my favorite romance tropes, but I have a few other classic tropes in mind for future chapters... Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @ane5e

The title comes from "your whatever" by lovelytheband.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Days later and you were still wallowing in the hole you dug, which had been reinforced with pity. Self-care turned into avoidance as you stayed home and indulged in unnecessary excuses.

You did leave one morning to purchase a few groceries from the corner shop, but the background chatter and voices took the forefront of your attention. A weight sat on your chest as you worried that you would have to talk about a relationship you knew nothing about. After the outing, you decided to remain inside and come up with an excavation plan.

You passed the time by painting and completing commissions, while hoping your creative muses would help concoct a narrative that would finish off this chapter you were suffering through. Unfortunately, their jurisdiction didn’t extend that far and you were on your own.

The only story you could draft involved a recent break-up. You didn’t recall seeing the pirate clown around town often. It seemed unlikely he would show up again, so ending the relationship could explain his absence. While you wouldn’t have to continue living a fictional life, you were certain that Reeves and Bolsti would try to use this short tale to their advantage and come up with more awful one-liners that would fizzle instead of flatter.

These thoughts looped in your mind, trudging along a worn path that always ended in the same place. The monotonous thinking occupied more than half of your mind, while the remainder was used for the few activities it could manage - cooking, eating, sleeping, and painting.

One afternoon, a series of knocks at the front door abruptly paused the repeating thoughts. You hesitated on the other side of the door. Without a peephole or nearby windows at eye level to peek through, you settled for pressing your ear against the wood to listen for clues about who was on the other side. Or at least figure out who it wasn’t.

You couldn't hear anything. No voices, no chatter, no banter. Whoever was outside rapped on the door again, managing to bang their fist on the exact opposite side of your head. The loud reverberations bounced in your skull aggressively.

Annoyed with the unintentional gift from the unsolicited visitor, you swung the door open and prepared to berate them from pulling you away from important work (leaving out that the “important work” was hiding from your problems). The angry spark died at the sight of the seafarer in front of you. You barely had a moment to register the double layer of fake smiles on his face before slamming the door shut.

“What the fuck,” you said to yourself in a hollow voice. You had been afraid that your problems would come find you, but you didn’t believe that they actually would.

“I think that’s my line,” Buggy snarked as he re-opened the door. He still wore two smiles - one that was tightlipped and forced underneath his usual painted one.

“N-no, no you shouldn’t be here. You have to go.” The words stumbled out of your mouth, as clumsy and confused as the rest of you.

You still had a hand on the door, and while any attempts to close it were not obeyed by your body, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Not only was the pirate larger than you, he had already stepped inside.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart. I even brought you flowers.”

You ignored the condescending pet name and focused on the bouquet daisies he held. They looked so out of place that you knew this was real. There was a pirate captain standing in your entryway. An entryway that felt cramped now that it was filled with his large presence. The man standing in your home had a big hat with blue tassels, ocean-colored eyes, a red nose, face paint, stubble, a long jacket, gloves, and a bundle of white daisies. Even the muses couldn’t come up with a sight like this.

“Why? What are you doing here? How did you even get here?” Although you accepted the fact that Buggy was truly in front of you, there were still too many mysteries to ignore.

Buggy rolled his eyes and pushed the flowers towards you again, their silly little heads bobbing as he motioned for you to take them. You accepted the offering, unable to ignore how nice the bouquet was. The daisies were full of life, wrapped in a bit of paper, and tied with a red ribbon.

“This is nice…did you actually buy it?”

“Sure.” Buggy’s cocky grin wasn’t enough protection against the sharp stare you threw his way. “Fine, yeah. I thought it looked nice.”

You nodded silently for a moment, looking past his scowl. A little petal stuck on his fluffy lapel caught your attention. You reached out, only for Buggy to pull away.

“It’s just a petal,” you commented, before plucking it off his coat and letting it flutter to the ground where it landed on the green carpet. “I’m surprised, you managed to get my favorite flower.”

Maybe it was because you hadn’t been outside in the fresh air for a while, but you couldn’t stop admiring the happy flowers. You turned around to grab a vase from the kitchen and Buggy followed you down the hallway. His bootsteps deepened when he stepped off the carpet and onto the wood floor.

“That probably explains why those shop people told me where you live,” he commented as his eyes drifted around.

You stopped short and the pirate plowed into you. He grabbed your shoulders, trying to keep you both from toppling over. A forceful shrug relieved his grip and you spun around. There were too many feelings and thoughts bubbling inside and your face couldn’t decide which one it wanted to emote. Shock or betrayal? Surprise? Maybe fear? Resignation? And anger, but how much?

Buggy bit his tongue. Your rolodex of emotions was the best thing he had seen all day, but laughing in your face was not part of his plan.

“They did give me a hard time. Actually, I waited outside of that damn store for hours. I thought you would show up at some point, but you didn’t. I must have looked like I got stood up.” Buggy paused and took a breath. He was trying to comfort you, not berate you. “Eventually I demanded they tell me where I could find you. Obviously they were convinced with one look at your handsome ‘boyfriend,’ or whatever, holding your favorite flowers.”

His monologue ended with a flourish of his hands, waggling eyebrows, and a laugh bursting from your mouth. There was only one store he knew you'd probably visit, so he must have been talking about Mr. Inslo or his husband. Neither of them would have given in so easily, especially if a loud, boisterous pirate stomped around the shop demanding information, like a greedy kid in a toy store. Imagining that scene unfolding in front of an innocent bystander brought tears to your eyes. Your recent isolation magnified the humor and you indulged in the levity. Satisfied with that explanation for the time being, you wiped away the joyful tears and finally made your way to the kitchen.

Buggy leaned against the doorway, which creaked under the weight. He watched you make quick work of rehoming your flowers while periodically stifling a giggle as you replayed his story.

At first he was irked at how hard you laughed at his very true story, but the glimmer in your watery eyes and speckled flush on your cheeks smothered the small fire in Buggy's chest. Laughter is like music to a clown’s ears, after all. At one point, you locked eyes with him and it brought out another fit of wheezing laughter - one he couldn’t resist joining with a chuckle. Your infectious giddiness was becoming it’s own amusing performance.

You finally calmed down as you tied the red ribbon around the glass vase with a delicate touch. A ribbon that Buggy chose himself. The florist forced him to pick, so it wasn’t anything special, but seeing how you treated it with care made Buggy feel strange. Uncomfortable. He needed a distraction.

“The shop owner told me to drop this off,” he blurted while pulling out a very small brown package from a coat pocket.

You took the item and unwrapped it to reveal a single watercolor pan. It was a special order that you meant to pick up a few days ago, but you forgot when your self-imposed shitty solitary confinement began. Normally, new art supplies would fill your heart with glitter, but this felt like you spilt ink in your chest.

You swiped a few drops of water from the vase and rubbed your finger on the paint. It didn’t take long for the block to soak up the moisture and release some pigment. You dragged your finger along the paper the daisies came wrapped in. The color was impressive and lush, the hues swirled and shifted in the water. Buggy looked up - your eyes contained the same shimming colors but there also was excess water threatening escape.

“Wrong one?”

“No…I just meant to pick it up a few days ago.”

Buggy knew your statement was true - the shop owner told him the same thing - but you were telling a half-lie. The pirate clown was also skilled in using select phrases to hide feelings. Something else put a morose look on your face. Something related, and Buggy could guess what it was.

“Right, since you’ve been staying inside like a creepy recluse and avoiding everyone because you created a biiig fucking problem and don’t know how to get yourself out of this shit-tastic situation?” The eyes that held joyful tears not long ago now looked at Buggy with despair.

You nodded. It was harsh, but that seems to be how he talks. And, honestly, you needed to hear it put bluntly like that. You were soft with yourself - making excuses, sugar coating your concerns, running away when you could.

“Let me help. We can make a deal and this whole problem will go away, I promise.” Buggy finally exposed the reason he came by. He hoped he didn’t screw up the plan before this point. Each beat of his heart echoed in his skull and he was beginning to worry that you could hear it too.

Instead, all you could hear was a small voice inside you which was relieved to hear what Buggy had to say. It knew that was the only reason he’d be on your doorstep and felt vindicated hearing the truth. The voice was also irrational, because it was telling you to accept his offer. If the irrational little voice was right the first time, then it’ll be right again. Clearly, the pirate wanted the treasure map you mentioned last time. He was desperate enough to buy flowers, but not to knock you out and ransack your home, or worse.

And even though you knew Buggy was offering an empty promise, it gave you a glimmer of hope. If he was willing to go through all the things he did to find you - to find the map - then maybe he meant some part of it.

“Okay…yes. But there need to be rules.”

The twinkle in Buggy’s eyes flickered and his smile bordered on the edge of a grimace, but he held it in place.

“Of course,” he muttered before turning up the charm and continuing, “Of course! A contract, right? I’m sure we could work something out.” He held out a gloved hand, eager to seal the deal.

The shake of your head finally jostled Buggy’s tense grin down into an irritated glare and his body drooped with disappointment. You bit the inside of your lip, trying not to smile at how quickly the intimidating pirate captain turned into a petulant child. It seemed like he wasn’t used to getting his way, which only confirmed you were right to wait.

“Contract first, then we shake.”

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #buggy fanfiction #one piece buggy #opla buggy #buggy op #buggy the clown x you #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #buggy the clown fanfiction #hey-august i'll be your whatever #x reader

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evankinard · 22 days

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ok, marisol departure of my dreams for you and diazly (pt1): the unintentional double date is awkward as fuck. it just is. buck relaxes a little from the shock, after tommy squeezes his knee reassuringly under the table and mouths "bro" at him with a wink when eddie and marisol sit down next to them. conversation is a little stilted, and buck knows it is. he still feels a little off about eddie so readily abandoning him for tommy, even if that lead to tommy kissing him (kissing HIM). so, they just talk about some rescues. nothing too big, nothing too small. eddie mentions that christopher is at a last minute sleep-over, and usually that would be the time where buck would ask questions about his new school projects and any school yard gossip, but marisol is there and buck really doesn't want to put his foot in his mouth and bring up things that encroach on marisol's time with his favorite kid. so, rescues and work it is, and buck tries to catch tommy's gaze every so often, show him how sorry he is about how this date is turning out. he knows it's not his fault, but he still feels guilty. tommy deserves better from him, and he can't help but feel disappointed at the thought that tommy won't kiss him goodbye at the end of the night, will tell him to go figure himself out with somebody else. they eat and they talk, and it's awkward, and marisol barely says anything, and her arms aren't crossed and she isn't huffing, but it's a close thing. eddie tries to calm her, include her as much as possible, he even draws little circles on her inner thigh by her knee because she seems to have liked that in the past and maybe he should invite her to stay over as an apology. tommy and buck leave first. tommy pays and slaps buck's shoulder after doing so and tells him he can pay the next time, and buck feels like maybe this first date wasn't a complete bust. they wish eddie and marisol a nice night and leave and eddie does not watch them walking away, closer than strictly necessary. and he definitely does not think about what that might mean. marisol warms up a little after they leave and they get dessert to go and share later, which makes marisol smile for the first time that evening.

FIC DELIVERY FOR TUMBLR USER @diazly

#this is the greatest thing thats ever happened to me #can i please get all my fics delivered directly to my doorstep like this from now on #911 spoilers #tagging spoilers for bucktommy

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wubyreal · 5 days

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whole hog for marina?

(Turn back if you don't want spoilers about her deep dark secrets)

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

I randomly thought of it, and Marina stuck since then. In universe, she is named after the marina where her parents first met. Her nickname is Chrysanthemum, which is her favorite flower. Her childhood friend group is a nod to the Chinese Four Gentleman, which is comprised of the chrysanthemum, orchid, bamboo, and plum.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Early 20s

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

She has been betrothed to Seric Von Plum ever since she was a child. He is the son of her dad's best friend. Unfortunately Marina hates his guts and instead dates and flirts with other people as an act of rebellion. Her logic is if she finds someone richer than Seric, then her parents will call off the engagement. Her crushes are superficial, mostly liking people for their looks and status. She managed to date Liza, but the relationship fell apart because Marina is too crazy and annoying. Despite everything, Nadir is her one true love who is a nice regular commoner.

�� - What is their favorite food?

Chocolate coated flower petals and red velvet desserts

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Noblewoman as determined by her family's legacy. Pirate when she became crazy. Mercenary during her runaway arc.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Bossing people around, eating sweets, being hot, shooting, fencing, and joyrides

🎯 -What do they do best?

Really really good at shooting

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

She loves joyrides from sailing, flying, and driving. She hates being bossed around by people or forced to hang out with annoying people.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

The day she first met Nadir as a child and when she first met Liza at school

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

When Liza defeated her in battle thus making her become tainted. When she couldn't convince her parents to undo the engagement with Seric

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

It's the final design for her tainted arc. She has gone through many design changes. Funnily enough my brain defaults to her with the short gray hair even though the look is temporary. I guess I haven't designed her post-redemption or post-timeskip. There are still many designs to do.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

She has an inspiration chart with lots of mean bitchy girls. Special shout out to Tinker Bell, Azula, Princess Morbucks, and Panty Anarchy. There are also some retroactive inspirations that were unintentional. She is similar to Mitsuru Kirijo from Persona3, except no niceness.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

High fantasy with gothic post-apocalyptic stuff

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Cis bi

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

1 younger sister that she treats as a minion

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Good relationship. Her parents doted and spoiled Marina as a child. They put up with Marina's antics cause as long lived elvenlike people, it's best to let her let the energy out of her system until she tires out and wises up. They never foresaw her making a pact and becoming evil. Marina is a daddy's girl that pretends to hate her mom but secretly does love her.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

She's really fun to meme and has interesting dynamics with many of my OCs as the crazy one contrasting with the straightman. I also like her design a lot.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Just like Ruby I think about and meme her every day. Writing and drawing happen when inspiration strikes.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

No. Nadir will not allow that.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Failure and that she's completely irredeemable. She's doubles down on being annoying because no one gives her a chance to change, see her for who she really is, or understand her actual needs.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Theda Thorne for trying to seduce Nadir. Derrick for being Liza's younger brother. Moriti for not putting up with her bullshit. War for betraying her. Elmindreda Endymion for absolutely no reason. Skurret just for being ugly. She beefs with a lot of people.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

Most likely 2015

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

I don't remember the exact age. Some time in high school.

#wuby.text #ask #Chrys #OC lore #OC ask #fvriva

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nicholasbaudelaire · 2 years

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Out for trouble

Closed starter @opheliasflood

Where: Town

When: Gone 11pm

It had been a while since Nicholas had really enjoyed a good smoke. With things as intense as they had been with work, his dad, Bella, the disappearances and the pack, he had been sober for several weeks. Sadly sober. It wasn’t that the doctor was dependent on the devil’s lettuce – far from it, he enjoyed recreational use. However, it felt like within a few weeks he had gone from a care free bachelor who only had to look out for himself and his pack, to a busy working man with an important side project, traversing the tricky landscape of dating an ex of an old pack member, and a vampire, oh and if that wasn’t complicated enough, his father’s health had taken a turn for the worse, so he was constantly dropping by Roman’s trailer with food, and supplements and so on. The wolf was so grateful for so many of the creatures in his new life, and he welcomes the responsibilities too but… when he had that evening to himself, well he decided getting a little high and going out for a few drinks with a few pack members would be a fun way to blow off some steam.

Nick was accompanied by two male wolves, and one red-headed female wolf, and the group were slowly making their way down the street, deciding on which pubs and bars to go into. Nick’s bright blue eyes were squinting just a little, having smoked perhaps more than he should, and his raucous laughter could be heard from a mile away. Nicky was no wall flower, though his loudness was quite unintentional, he was just not one to tone it down when in public.

“Waste not want not Connor, wasn’t like you wouldn’t have done the same” he was exhaling a large cloud of smoke, while suppressing more giggles and wiping a tear from beneath his eyes, almost doubling over he was racked with such mirth. The red-headed female at his side was cackling too though she playfully shushed him and knocked him. Though a little stoned, Nick was steady on his feet and straightened up, all six foot four of him towering over most of the people standing in line for the multitude of bars and pubs along this street.

“Whatever man, you’re the one who ate all that shit!” Connor, a similarly tall wolf was grinning devilishly and smoking as the group eventually came to a stop while Elizabeth – the red head made them wait for her to chat with a bouncer. Nick was bickering good naturedly with the two wolves, when he heard a commotion coming from the pavement outside a bar he rarely frequented. Dark curls bounced atop his head as Nicky turned around to curiously peek at what was going on.

#nicholasbaudelaire #smoking tw #drug use tw #stress #health issues tw

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hogan19schmitt · 2 years

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morningstar-descended · 4 years

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Mammon was an accomplished soldier in the Celestial Realm

Belphie used to be a little Lucifer Mini-Me when he was a young Angel

Lucifer would sing his siblings to sleep, Before

He didn’t tell his brothers about Lilith because he didn’t want them to interfere with her new life. It was hard enough for him not to.

Diavolo’s older brother, Beleth, has a scar covering the left side of his face from where Dia ground him into the dirt to try and get him to yield.

Their formal fight for the crown lasted three days.

Diavolo’s younger brother, Amaymon, is Asmo’s sugar daddy.

Diavolo’s Mom is also still alive, she has her own estate in another part of the Devildom. She can suplex him.

Lucifer will absently neaten up his brother’s clothes for them while he’s lecturing them.

Lucifer has fed demons and unruly Witches to Cerberus before.

Mammon has never had a partner in any sense of the word.

Satan was ‘born’ as a baby.

Asmo used to dress Satan up in little outfits when he was small.

Satan can repeat almost everything he’s read verbatim.

Lucifer has to double check that he knows where all of his brothers are before he can rest at night, unless he passes out.

All the brothers wore their hair long as angels. Lucifer’s the only one who’s never grown it back out since their fall.

It took Lucifer around six hundred years to develop proper feelings for Diavolo.

Lucifer is deathly afraid of Diavolo’s father.

Barbatos is possibly--not counting Diavolo--Lucifer’s only friend.

The Sport Beel plays is a type of Wrestling mixed with MMA and Capture the Flag. It’s played topless.

Lucifer will occasionally ask Levi to explain the plot of an anime or game to him if he wants to zone out for a while. He’s listening, but because following what Levi is talking about takes a lot of concentration, it’s almost like meditating.

Lucifer’s hair got its white / gray streaks when they lost Lilith.

Lucifer actually does have some wrinkles, he just hides them most of the time.

No matter how hard he tries, Lucifer just can’t get good at video games.

Lucifer will write out bits of sheet music when he’s bored.

Lucifer has more demon markings on his body than just the diamond on his forehead.

Lucifer’s hands are very scarred, mostly from dealing with small child Satan.

Beel’s sport is unnamed because in Infernal, it literally just is called “The Sport” since there’s only one.

Almost all of the siblings have physically torn an opponent to shreds and or consumed them. Asmo and Mammon are notable exceptions.

Satan went through a phase where he spoke solely in riddles.

Levi was hardcore into theater before animation became more of a thing. he still has a lot of opinions about it.

Belphie spent most of their early fallen years either half asleep, or completely asleep.

Beel is incapable of chewing gum or sucking on a jaw breaker properly. He impulsively swallows whatever goes in his mouth.

Lucifer has been summoned to the human world successfully only twice in his existence. He killed both summoners for the audacity.

The entire garden around the house of lamentation was of Lucifer’s design.

Mammon has the best control over his shape-shifting--able to stay in a false form for longer, and able to retain his humanoid form despite high emotions.

The brothers are, quite literally, Devildom Celebrities.

Diavolo has never kept a pet before.

Lucifer is ambidextrous, but prefers his left hand.

Mammon is left handed.

Gluttony demons tithe to Lord Beelzebub on his birthday in the form of whatever food they fixate on.

The first angel Lucifer killed after his fall was one he didn’t actually recognize.

The first angel Mammon killed was one of his friends from the Celestial Guard.

Lucifer will never forgive the other Archangels for turning their back on him.

Lucifer has only ever had two partners in any sense of the term in his entire life.

Beel used to be the smallest, before he hit his growth spurt and overshot all of them.

Lucifer swears almost exclusively in celestial, when he’s pissed off enough to actually swear.

Satan doesn’t really have any of Lucifer’s memories, but he retained the emotions based around them. It’s confusing.

Lucifer can cook just fine, but he can’t bake to save his life.

The Longest Lucifer has stayed awake without any rest was about a month. It wasn’t pretty.

Half of the time Lucifer says something funny it’s unintentional.

Most of the Devildom’s current infrastructure was pioneered by Diavolo’s father.

King Diavolo’s real name is Ba’al.

Lucifer can play basically any instrument that’s been invented, apart from electronic only ones.

Levi’s skill in painting could put any of the great masters to shame.

Lucifer isn’t a fan of a poultry, ironically.

The fact that they can get Belphie to wear his complicated RAD uniform everyday while being the Cardinal Sin of Sloth is a point towards how well Belphie controls his sin.

Being a shutin used to be cool and mysterious-- Levi mourns that social shift often.

Lucifer considers Levi the easiest brother to handle because he doesn’t really leave his room.

Mammon, while definitely being guilty of lots of grifts and get rich quick schemes, actually has at least five jobs on top of his stipend for being a Sin.

Lucifer has been trying to figure out how to kill those three witches for causing him problems by proxy, but he hasn’t figured out a legal way to justify it yet.

Amaymon is Diavolo’s youngest sibling. Lucifer can’t stand him.

Flower arranging is one of Asmo’s hobbies.

Asmo also has the best eye for interior design aesthetics, even if he uses them to make a room look... Like That.

For Centuries Lucifer couldn’t even begin to talk about his interests without Diavolo flooding him with related gifts. He’s gotten better about it since.

Lucifer and Diavolo’s relationship was purely physical at first.

Beel often uses the fact that his brothers think he’s stupid for his own gain. Most of the time it’s to get more food, but whatever works works.

Lucifer is completely fire proof now as a demon, inside and out.

He has nightmares of fire, though.

In one of the battles of the Celestial war, The Archangel Michael did his Signature “Step on Lucifer’s face/head trick” And Lucifer nearly took his leg off for it.

All demons can both purr and growl.

Lucifer’s back is heavily scarred from his fall and Satan’s creation both.

Mammon physically regenerates the fastest, and Belphie the slowest.

Levi, due to Envy’s ability to constantly and unintentionally buff the demons around him, is always helping his brothers in some small way whether he means to or not.

Beel still has specific nightmares of Lilith’s death, and will often crawl into Belphie’s bed to hold him after.

Satan never knew Lilith, but he’s emotionally attached to her because of the vague memories he inherited from Lucifer.

Asmo’s hair, if he grew it out, would be loosely curly.

All Lust type demons are Incubi / Succubi / Concubi.

Wrath type demons are the ones who cause classic hauntings.

All sleep paralysis demons are Sloth demons, though.

Pride type demons are the most prone to possessing humans in power, despite Lucifer having never possessed a human before.

Barbatos is actually a little bit older than Diavolo, but not by much.

Luke is basically Michael’s son.

Simeon is the younger brother of the Archangel Jophiel (the Angel of Beauty).

Asmo, if given the chance to defect back to the Celestial Realm, would seriously consider it.

Mammon acts like a fool, but isn’t one himself.

Belphie and Beel aren’t quite telepathic, but they always know where the other is, or if they’re in trouble.

The Cardinal sin of Wrath traditionally writes all of the punitive legislation in the devildom, so Satan is the one who writes out what crime gets what punishment.

The Devildom’s economy has never flourished so much before Mammon became the sin of Greed.

A good 60% of the work Lucifer does is paperwork that should actually be handled by one of his brothers.

Asmo’s painted his nails with his own venom before, and then used it to kill people who piss him off.

The only person Lucifer can accept losing to is Diavolo.

Lucifer isn’t a functional person until around 2 hours after he’s woken up. Luckily he tends to get up around 4:30a.m. / 5a.m. so when normal people have to interact with him, he’s mostly aware.

Mammon likes to over-saturate his foods with toppings and sauces, which is why Beel can’t stand his cooking.

Asmo likes the taste of straight vodka.

Lucifer once slapped another demon’s head clean off when they spoke back to him while he was addressing Diavolo’s court.

Lucifer and Diavolo’s first real “Date” was in the Royal Garden.

Any part of an Archdemon is worth a small fortune, as they’re rather potent spell ingredients.

If you talk shit about Mammon near a Greed type demon they WILL beat your ass.

Diavolo loved Lucifer on sight. Or, well, he loved the look of him.

#{ Mun Post }#Ask Meme #{ fuck you. never challenge me again ghdhghsdhg }#Anonymous #long post #dialuci

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creativekat · 3 years

Text

PTC, part VI

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

[Gif by @pascalsky]

Word Count: 4,534

Rating: 18+

Warnings: heavy petting, serious making out, unintentional piercing play

A/N: @the-purity-pen and I are so excited to share the next chapter!! Things are heating up and this ended up being our longest chapter yet!! We hope you enjoy and if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!!

Marcus’s hands were shaking and sweating as he drove to your house. He had no intentions of going inside in your house but when he offered to pick you up for the date you had bid on and won, you couldn’t help but smile and tell him yes.

At a nearby stoplight, he wiped his hands on the thighs of his suit pants. He opted to go semi-casual with suit pants and jacket but just a dark grey t-shirt underneath. Missy told him that a tie would be too much and she wanted him to be comfortable on his first real date in a long time.

When he finally pulled up to your house, he waited in the car for a minute to calm himself and remind himself that this was just a casual first date. Nothing serious had to come of it even if he had been crushing on you for nearly an entire year. He finally got the courage to go up to your door and give it a hearty knock.

You had gotten ready early, worried about making a bad impression by keeping Marcus waiting. So, you paced the living room of the small house you rented, trying to avoid walking to the hallway mirror to double check your appearance. You’d worn a dress and heels, though Marcus had told you it would be casual. The dress wasn’t fancy or anything, just a simple summery dress, which you paired with a cardigan sweater.

When you heard the knock on the door, you nearly jumped out of your skin, you were so keyed up. Taking a moment, you took a deep, calming breath and released it hoping Marcus wouldn’t notice how jittery you felt.

As you walked to the door, you couldn’t help but glance at your reflection. You actually felt pretty cute and paused to smile at yourself in the mirror. You grabbed your purse from the console table and answered the door. The sight of him took your breath away. People could rave all they wanted about Marcus Moreno’s Heroics gear, but you’d take him looking like this any day of the week. “Hi,” you breathed out.

Marcus was just as dumbfounded seeing you dressed like that. Your hair looked immaculate and your smile was heart-melting. He blinked a few times, taking in your form before he finally swallowed a large lump in his throat and croaked out a soft “hi.”

You smiled wryly, finding it adorable how flabbergasted he seemed. His hands were wringing together in front of him and you stepped forward to place your hand on his which calmed him. He looked up at you and felt his heart skip a beat from how close you were.

“You look wonderful,” you complimented him and his cheeks started to flush pink.

Marcus shook his head, as if to clear it, before responding, “So do you. Stunning, in fact.” He laughed self-consciously at the admission.

He turned, only let go of one of your hands, keeping the other firmly in his grasp as the two of you walked to his car. When you reached the passenger side door, he reached out to open the door and helped you into the seat before closing it and making his way around to his side.

You hadn’t really discussed where the date would take place. Marcus had simply said he wanted to surprise you and that it would be “casual”. Anticipation swelled within you and your mind raced with the possibilities of what was in store tonight. You noticed that Marcus drove very carefully and you appreciated the fact that his regular persona seemed to be all about care and protective nurturing. You supposed this was because his hero persona faced so many risks. He glanced over at you and smiled and you returned it easily.

Marcus finally pulled into the parking lot of the science center and you gave a soft gasp. Your secret passion was science and while you had adored many field trips to the science center over the years, somehow being here with Marcus was bound to be far more romantic and memorable.

As the two of you walked in, Marcus gave his name and the woman behind the counter gave you both paper bracelets that allowed access to every part of the center. His hand only left yours briefly to try to attach his bracelet but you giggled and helped him put his on. The close proximity had your pulse racing in your ears as you looked at his eyes when the bracelet was on all the way.

“Where are we going first?” you ventured in curiosity as you grabbed one of the center maps and unfolded it. It was much larger than the last time you had been there and you wondered what new exhibits had been added.

“How about the cute animals first?” Marcus asked as he started to walk backwards to lead you down the small hall to the exhibit. You bit your lip slightly when his eyes met yours, eyebrows slightly raised. It felt like he wanted to make you happy and your entire body warmed at the promise of what that meant.

“When I came here as a kid, they let us hold a tarantula.” You tilted your head proudly, “I was the only girl in my class who was willing to do it.”

Marcus returned to walking beside you and squeezed your fingers lightly, “I have no doubt. Any woman who can handle working with a bunch of pre-teen kids daily wouldn’t be fazed by a silly spider.”

As the two of you entered the first room of the animal exhibit you saw that several parrots were flying freely about the room and laughed out loud when a small blue and gold Macaw landed on Marcus’ head. “I think that one likes you.”

Marcus’s whole body froze when the bird landed on him but your words caused him to let out a short burst of laughter. “Well he’s not pecking my head so I guess so,” he answered with a small chuckle before the bird was flying off his head and landed on your shoulder.

“Hmmm, it seems like he has good taste in women too,” he said with a wink and you swear your heart leapt from your chest at the simple gesture.

After some more venturing through the reptiles and the “exotic” exhibit that showcased sloths this month, Marcus took your head again and led you down a narrow hall. Just then, a small group of children decided to rush past you. “Whoa!” Marcus exclaimed as he turned and caged you in against the wall, trying to stop the both of you from being trampled on by the tiny feet as they all yelled and hollered past you.

You felt Marcus’s body pressed against yours shielding you from danger and the air left your lungs. Your skin tingled at his proximity and as the tiny army of children made their way into the room you’d just left you took a moment to try and catch your breath. Licking your lips you lifted your gaze to look Marcus in the eyes and spoke softly, “Thank you… for saving my life.”

Marcus chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated from his chest to yours, causing more tingles throughout your body. You laughed with him and though you were feeling the humor of the situation, you also felt something else. A yearning for him.

He was feeling the same yearning as the two of you locked eyes in the narrow hallway. He hadn’t moved from his protective stance, even though the children had disappeared, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just startled.” As you spoke you realized how close his mouth was to yours. Either one of you could move slightly and you’d be kissing. He did just that and his lips were just brushing against yours when a voice from just outside the hallway broke the spell. You weren’t really alone and that was a stark reminder of the fact.

Marcus pulled away from you, clearing his throat, and you gave him a lopsided grin, “Remind me to thank you more thoroughly later.”

Moving together toward the next room, both of you reached for the other’s hand as Marcus replied, “I look forward to it.”

An hour later and you had explored the exhibits that were actually open. The last one to see what the constellation one but there was some time before the next show would start. You stood with Marcus, your fingers intertwined, your back against the wall near the entrance to the stargazing exhibit.

“Do you want a snack before we go in?” Marcus offered, gesturing down the hall a bit to the vending machines. You nodded with a smile and he led you over to grab a couple of snacks and a soda to share. You were surprised his taste in soda was similar to yours.

The two of you were ushered in and took your seats. Before the show even started, your eyes were looking up at the domed ceiling. “Oh! That one is my fave! Machina Electrica,” you said happily as you pointed to the faded star shape on the ceiling.

Marcus looked up to where you were pointed and squinted. “You can see that?” he asked and you chuckled.

“I just know where it would be based on how they run the shows. Usually they start by showing you the current set up of the stars based on the earth’s rotation and then they slowly slide you through the seasons to show how-” you looked over at Marcus to see him staring at you and immediately clamped your mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I’m such a nerd about this stuff and I-”

Marcus placed his hand over yours gently and interrupted your rambling. “I like it.” You had immediately stopped talking assuming he was getting annoyed by your overwhelming passion for the star exhibit. But, his words were like cupid’s arrow, piercing your heart. If you liked him before that was nothing compared to the fact that he said he liked your geeky rambling.

“Oh, well… umm, okay ... good.” You felt your cheeks warming and Marcus smiled at you, thinking you look extra-beautiful with your shy smile and eyes shining with happiness. He felt the urge to kiss you again, but this was a public place and the seats were filling up quickly now that the show was close to starting.

The lights dimmed and suddenly the ceiling above resembled the clear night sky. Several kids in the audience made an “oooh” sound and Marcus heard you gasp, one palm covering your heart. “It never gets old,” you whispered, and he thought to himself, he would bring you here every day if he could just see that look on your face.

The show ended and the two of you walked out hand in hand. Your heart was racing from the pure excitement and beauty of the star show. Marcus found that his heart was racing as well but it wasn’t from watching the stars.

As the two of you walked out into the chilly evening air, you felt your body shiver slightly as you adjusted to the new temperature. Marcus moved closer to wrap his arm around your shoulders and rubbed at your arm lightly. “You okay?” he asked. You nodded and told him you were okay, just adjusting to the night air.

You both started to walk slower as you reached the car. Marcus let his arm slowly slide down your body and you turned to face him. “Do you have anything else fun planned?” you asked as you looked into his eyes. The softness of his smile nearly melted you into a puddle on the ground.

“One more stop,” he told you as a playful smile crossed his lips. “And, if you want, we can make a bet,” he offered, his voice dropping an octave as he took a step closer, his hand resting comfortably on your hip.

“Oh yeah? A bet on what?” you asked, the playful smile echoing to your own face.

“If I win, you come home with me for a night cap.”

“And if I win?”

“You get whatever you want.”

“How about a kiss?”

“We don’t have to wait for that,” he said, his lips now brushing against yours before his hand came to the side of your face and his lips pressed against yours softly. Your hands came up to rest on his lower back as your mouth opened for him. Your tongue pressed against his in a sultry dance, pleading for more.

You pulled away long enough to say, “I guess I’ll have to think of something else if I win then.” Your mouth searched for his again for another kiss. Your body stirred with longing to be closer to him than you already were, to feel his hands on your intimate places, to feel his breath against your skin.

You both seemed to realize you were still in the science center parking lot and pulled apart reluctantly. “I’m not sure I can think of anything better than that though.” You could, but it was best to keep those thoughts to yourself right now. Marcus pulled you close to his side as he unlocked the passenger door for you, then teased you with another slow drag of his lips across yours. Eyes closed, you attempted to follow his mouth as it retreated.

As you settled into the seat, you could feel your body’s reaction to him. And he hadn’t even used his power on you. He hadn’t known what he was doing the previous two times. You wondered what would happen if you told him about your piercing and how he could control them. Again, a conversation for another time.

As he slid into the driver’s side, you asked, “So, any hints as to where we’re going? Other than it involves one of us winning something?” You smiled sexily in his direction. He looked over at you and narrowed his eyes a bit in a big smile.

“It’s a game. That involves a ball. Or two,” he offered simply before changing his attention to the car to start it up and take off. He drove for a few minutes but his hand rested on his thigh, his fingers tapping nervously as he drove down the freeway.

Your eyes caught the movement and you turned and placed your hand gently over his, your palm resting against the back of his hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with his. As he pulled off the next exit and waited at the red light, he pulled your hand up to kiss the back of it softly, lingering his lips against your skin.

Your heart raced at the gentle moment before he was placing your hand and his back down to his thigh as he took off towards the miniature golf course. You immediately let out a laugh when the sign came into view. “Petey the Pirate’s mini golf?” you asked with a laugh and Marcus just smiled brightly and nodded.

You laughed, a bright unfiltered sound, “I don’t think I’ve been here since high school!” It probably hadn’t been quite that long, but back then you’d spent a lot of hours at the mini-golf course. Not that you were going to admit that to Marcus Moreno. “So… whoever wins mini-golf gets to choose how the night ends, eh?” Glancing at your date, you wink at him then laughed again.

Marcus grinned, “I take it I chose well when planning this date?”

“Oh yes, you’re two for two so far, Mr. Moreno.” You had been having a great time and it seemed like every time you thought the day couldn’t get any better, Marcus surprised you. Your heart raced just thinking about how he’d planned this special night for you and he’d gotten everything so perfect.

He got out of the car and rushed around to open the door for you. The two of you walked hand in hand toward the booth that sold the balls and putters and you couldn’t help but laugh giddily in anticipation. Taking your putter and ball, you bit your lip looking at Marcus, “You should know that I’m … not very good at this game.”

After paying the guy for the balls and putters, Marcus looked to you as he waited for his change with a raised eyebrow. The way you bit your lip was instantly driving him crazy but he cleared his throat and turned back to get his change before grabbing his putter.

“Yeah? Well, erm,” he cleared his throat again, “Maybe I can show you some tips and tricks,” he offered nervously, trying to sound smoother than he actually was. He nearly tripped over the little divider between the entrance walkway and the first green.

He straightened himself up and you found yourself snickering quietly. “Alright, alright. Let’s get to it so we can see what happens with our bet,” he said playfully as he set his ball down and took in a deep breath. He felt a familiar vibration through his hands as he guided the putter exactly where he wanted it to go to land the ball just outside the pocket.

You watched as Marcus lined up his shot and then the ball zipped it’s way toward the hole, stopping just short of dropping in. You looked at the ball then looked at him and raised your eyebrow, “I can see my work is cut out for me.”

You dropped the ball onto the little dark circle that marked the tee. Looking down the astroturf lane, you lined up your shot. In truth, you could easily make this shot. You’d practically lived at Petey’s as a kid, but you wanted Marcus to win. Not to make him feel good about himself. You knew he wasn’t the kind of man to care about that stuff. But, the more time you spent with him the better that night cap sounded.

So, you lined up the shot, then hit it just to the left of where you wanted it to go with more effort than the putt required. The ball overshot the hole and bounced hard off the little wall that lined the hole and stopped halfway back to its origin. “I might need that help,” You snickered.

Marcus’s gaze snapped back to you after having watched your ball go too far and bounce back. He was smirking but trying to hide it, trying not to make fun of you for being so bad on such an easy first shot. He nodded with a tight smile before moving closer to you. He leaned down and grabbed the ball and placed it just to the right of the mark instead of directly on it.

“Okay, first. Don’t trust the tee mark,” he told you as he stood up and turned towards you with a smile. He moved beside you to place his putter against the little fence to store it there. He turned back towards you and rubbed his palms together. “Alright. Show me your stance,” he told you and you stared at him for a moment with a cocked eyebrow. He laughed before moving to mimic as if he were holding the putt. “How you stand. You know, like this?”

You moved your feet apart, showing off a decent stance for mini-golf. Marcus nodded, “That’s good… but you don’t have a good grip on your putter.” He walked over to you, placing himself behind you. A slow smile spread across your face. He was doing exactly what you’d hoped he would. He began to manipulate your limbs, placing your arms where he thought they needed to be. Everywhere he touched you seemed to burn in reaction.

Then Marcus’ arms wrapped around you, placing his hands over yours. His torso was pressed to your back and you practically moaned. You managed to keep the sensual sound to yourself. Marcus’ hands were tender, but you could feel the exact moment his powers manifested, working their magic on the putter in both your hands. The magnetic sensation tugged lightly at your piercings and this time you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered quietly, feeling the vibration in your nipples and your clit. Suddenly your knees were weak.

Marcus didn’t hear you the first time but he absolutely heard you the second time as he swung your arms together and hit the ball. It bounced off the back wall gently, landing just a few inches away from his own ball. But he didn’t move. He felt like he couldn’t. His body was vibrating in a whole new way with the noise you were making. “A-are you.. Okay?” Marcus asked in your ear, his hands still covered yours over the putter.

Your lips curled into themselves as you nodded slowly. You couldn’t find the words to tell the man that you were on an official first date with that his superhero powers were tingling the piercings in your tits and clit. Marcus leaned a bit closer and his lips barely grazed the shell of your ear as he spoke again. “If you’re sure,” he spoke softly as he pulled away from you. You bit your lower lip, trying to stifle the whine you were tempted to let out from the loss of contact with him. All you could think about was being close to him, all the time.

Marcus was just as affected and immediately turned around to grab his putter and took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself. He knew he liked you, and from the way things were going, it was very clear that you liked him back. But was it appropriate to get that physical on the first date? It had been too long since his last first date but he was pretty sure that the sounds you were making were not ones he had made anyone make on a first date.

You watched him collect himself. He had turned away and part of you wondered if you’d done something wrong. It wasn’t like you’d been able to control your reaction to him. And it wasn’t like he’d intended to turn you on like he did. He didn’t even know about your piercings, so you knew he hadn’t meant to tweak them. When he’d been standing behind you, it had felt like maybe you were having an affect on him as well.

Finally, he turned back to you and smiled, “Next hole is the Cave of Mystery!” Marcus added a spooky element to his voice when he said the name making you giggle. You were quickly figuring out that he was kind of a goofball, in the very best way. The more time you spent in his presence the more you liked him. As his daughter’s teacher, you told yourself you shouldn’t feel this way about him, but you couldn’t resist the desire to get closer.

As you walked to the next hole, he took your hand once again sending a ripple of pleasure throughout you. The cave entrance loomed in front of you and as you both stepped inside, you commented, “I hope you aren’t afraid of the dark.”

“If I was afraid of anything, I likely wouldn’t be the world’s greatest superhero,” he replied playfully as he set his ball down to take his first shot. The ball bounced the corner and disappeared around a cave wall and he hoped it didn’t land in the sand trap.

He stepped to the side and turned towards you. “Do you need help on this one too?” he asked, feeling his heart ramp up in rhythm at the thought of being closer to you again.

You smiled wryly at him with a small shrug of your shoulders. “If you wouldn’t mind,” you offered quietly and took your place. Marcus took a moment and came up behind you again to hold you and guide your ball. The familiar vibrations ran down your body and you bit your lower lip with a soft moan again. The ball bounced just the same as his ball had done and around the cave wall it went.

But Marcus didn’t move except to put his face closer to your cheek. You could feel his light scruff tickling your cheek and you felt your body heat up at the closeness again. His breath was warm as it fanned over your skin and you could have sworn his lips had pursed to kiss the shell of your lightly. Before you could think about that or even react to it, he’d pulled back, “We should see where our balls went.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing at what he’d said. Spending all day with pre-teens meant your sense of humor sometimes took a dive into low-brow territory. This didn’t escape Marcus’s attention however and he chuckled lightly, “Can you even play mini-golf without everything sounding dirty?”

Finally letting loose with a soft giggle-snort, you shook your head, “I don’t think so. Unless maybe you’re a saint.”

Marcus gave you a look, his gaze full of heat and replied, “I’m not a saint,” as he pulled you around the corner. The light was much dimmer here. You remembered this had been a popular make out spot for the kids in your class when you’d been in high school. It was private and you could always hear when people were coming so getting caught was easy to avoid.

As soon as the memory had formed in your head, Marcus was turning you into his body and kissing you again, his hand gently gripping the back of your head. Stepping back, you found yourself pressed to the uneven wall of the “cave”. You moaned deeply into his mouth as your hands ran over his ribcage and over his hips so you could cup his ass.

Marcus’s lips slotted against yours and he groaned when your hands found his ass. He pressed you more against the wall, his hand sliding to your jaw to hold your face. His other hand slid up from your waist and tentatively explored over your stomach before sliding up over your breast.

Within an instant, his hand was buzzing with power and his palm attracted something hard from under your thin shirt. A piercing? His mind whirred with lust as he broke from the kiss for air and moved his lips down to your neck.

His hand on your breast placed his power directly where it could have the most effect and you responded immediately, making a sound between a gasp and a moan. Marcus continued to pull and twist gently at your nipple piercing, making you whimper softly, as he suckled at the curve of your neck. You were on the verge of coming already and he hadn’t even found your other piercing. As if reading your mind, he pulled away from your neck long enough to whisper in your ear, “What other surprises do you have for me?”

Jaggedly, you replied, “Why don’t we … say you won … and we can go … to your … place ... and you can ... find out?”

Tags: @boliv-jenta @fanfic-addict-98 @fandomtrashwhore @grandfanficstation @literally-anythin @mrschiltoncat @thisshipwillsail316 @yes-im-your-mom

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sxvxrxssnape · 4 years

Text

Accio Sleep: The Wizard’s Guide To Battling Insomnia

aka Snapetober 2020: Day 1

The Years Between Severus Snape & Minerva McGonagall 2424 words / gen / no content warnings apply

The pages of his book rustled softly.

He wasn’t really reading, not in the way he usually did. He wasn’t paying careful attention to the words printed on parchment, wasn’t getting lost in the miniature infinities as the story came to life. He was only skimming, glancing through the text in hopes of tiring his eyes enough that they might finally choose to close.

It had been days since he had last been able to truly sleep, days since he could lay down without feeling his anxieties gnawing at him more than usual. It had been days of carrying this weight, this pit in his stomach.

The fire crackled.

Severus Snape sighed and put the book aside. He stared into the fireplace, watched the flames flicker and dance. He stood up, felt the chill of stone underneath bare feet, and padded into the kitchenette of his quarters.

He didn’t bother with more candlelight and made a cup of tea in the glow of the fireplace. He stared at the milky chamomile as if it held the answers to all the questions he couldn’t dare ask. He stared so long, that when he eventually took a sip, the tea had gone cold.

He sighed again.

It only took a quick flick of his wand for gentle ribbons of steam to rise from the cup once more. He sipped slowly as he stared blankly at the walls of where he now called home, and willed sleep to come.

Perhaps it was futile.

Perhaps it was what he deserved.

He stared bitterly at the textbook sitting on the kitchen table. It was a different book from the one he had been paging through only moments ago; no, this book he had found in the library two nights before when the restlessness of the last week first began to take its toll. He twirled his wand between absentminded fingers and wondered briefly if Madame Pince would mind too much if he were to report the book as incinerated.

Accio Sleep; he scoffed at the title.

He had tried everything the book suggested and nothing had helped. He was growing frustrated at his inability to do what his body needed. He’d tried laying in the silent darkness of his bedchamber for hours, turning this way and that, but no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, tried to get comfortable and relax, sleep was determined to evade him.

Or maybe you’re determined to evade sleep, his mind snarked at him.

He stood up abruptly and grabbed his cloak. Suddenly, he could see it very clearly in his mind - if he were to keep the useless book in his possession any longer, he would destroy it in his sleep-deprived anger. He pinned the black fabric in place, fingers lingering on the silver cloak pin Lucius Malfoy had gifted him when he had first joined...he shook his head.

He was moving in a new direction now - a direction he should have gone since the beginning of it all, but dwelling on that was pointless and all he could do now was put one foot in front of the other and do what he could.

Right now, that entailed returning this wretched self-help book before he tossed it in the fireplace and got himself banned from the library.

The castle was silent at night and a part of him found it comforting to wander about without the bustle of students and their inane chatter. He didn’t bother with wandlight - maybe he had been elsewhere the last three years, but the memory of walking these halls for seven was still ingrained in him, and with the dim light of occasional torches, the path from the dungeons to the library was familiar.

He was only two corridors away when he heard soft footfalls approaching. For a second, his heart stuttered and he looked around for a place to hide before he remembered he was no longer a student attending Hogwarts, but a professor.

“Who’s there?”

“I-it’s me.” Severus winced at the stutter in his answer. How was he supposed to command respect from students who had once been classmates when he couldn’t even address the stern voice of Professor McGonagall without faltering?

A wand light turned the corner and approached him, and soon enough, he could make out the scowling face of the deputy headmistress and Gryffindor Head of House. She was still dressed in the same blue robes she had been wearing earlier, but her greying brown hair was coming undone from her usual bun.

“Oh, Professor Snape,” she greeted and he tried not to react to the level of contempt she put into his title, “where are you headed at this hour?”

He could hear the accusation in her tone and frankly, he didn’t blame her. What reason did she have to trust him other than Dumbledore’s word? Still, it irked him deeply and he tried to keep the malice out of his voice as he replied, “The library.”

She arched an eyebrow and looked at the book in his hands. “Ah, having trouble sleeping are we?”

“Quite.”

They stood there for several minutes, neither willing to walk away first. McGonagall was studying him carefully and he wondered what it was she saw. Did she see the exhaustion that lined his face, the fear and guilt that weighed him down? Did she see his mistakes trailing him like ghosts? Or did she see the Death Eater his marked arm would never allow himself to forget he was, the deserving victim to her precious Gryffindor’s past endeavors?

He didn’t deserve her trust, her sympathy, her respect.

He was a Death Eater, plain and simple.

He had denounced their ways, begged Dumbledore for help and forgiveness, taken up the mantle of double agent and spy, and now kept a foot on either side. He refused to acknowledge it because he knew what he had to do - there was no second choice - but at the end of the day, he had agency. He had both the leader of the Light and Dark thinking him loyal to their cause, could choose which side benefited him most, and McGonagall knew that.

He wondered if she knew it was his fault.

“Severus?”

He blinked and focused his attention back on her. He would need to work on that; he couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that, not anymore.

“Pardon?”

“You’re the Potions Master, yes?” she asked, still scowling but he swore he could see something gentle in her eyes. “Brew a sleeping draught.”

He tried for a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Quite right, Minerva. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get right on that. How silly of me, to forget the basis of what my job is.”

A pause. "You don’t want to sleep.”

He didn’t know what it was that possessed him to answer. He wanted to sleep, there was no doubt in his mind of that, but he just couldn’t. No matter how dark, how quiet, how still the room, no matter if he tried to tire out his mind, his eyes, his body, sleep would just not come. And despite knowing all that to be true, the word that he spoke so softly into the near empty corridor was a singular, “No.”

“May I ask why?”

He blinked, unsure of her intentions. Her face had lost some of its severity, and the curious gentleness remained in her eyes, but there wasn’t enough to determine what her angle was just yet. He wondered if his unintentional honesty, the sliver of vulnerability, had lessened some of her defenses.

What had she seen when he had been lost in thought?

“This book is overdue.” he snarked.

A faint smile, the barest pull on the corner of her lips. “How are your classes going?” she asked, rather unexpectedly. “Come, I still have patrol of the castle to do and perhaps the activity will tire you out.” She started to walk away, in the same direction she had come.

He watched her idly, contemplating his options before ultimately deciding to follow. “Classes are fine.” he struggled to get out. In reality, classes felt like a disaster but he didn’t want to say it aloud because that felt like admitting defeat.

“Are they?” Minerva asked, side-eyeing him. Her eyebrow was raised in disbelief and there was a glimmer of amusement mixed with the gentleness. “The students are listening to you, then?”

He sighed. “The first and second years are.”

Minerva smirked and gestured vaguely to the book return slot outside the library. He rid himself of the book and they continued their stroll of the castle.

“A Hogwarts professor at twenty-one.” Minerva mused. “I believe you might be the youngest one we’ve had to date.”

“Yes, well.”

“I’m not surprised the older students are being difficult. They don’t see you as an authority figure, they see you as their equal, Severus. You have to learn how to carry yourself better. Stand up straight, for one.”

He scowled, but did as told.

“It’s barely been a month and a half of term - you’ll get better at this.” She stopped at the door that would lead them to the Astronomy Tower and looked him over. “Are you warm enough to go up?” she asked and he blanked at the sudden concern for his well-being. He wrapped the long cloak tighter around himself in response; how had he forgotten until this very moment that he had pulled the garment on over a nightshirt? He wasn’t even wearing shoes. How Dumbledore trusted him to lie to the Dark Lord was beyond him; the lack of sleep was turning his brain to soup.

Minerva’s soft exhale of breath was the closest to a laugh he had heard anyone direct towards him since he’d arrived at the castle. It made something in him ache as the realization hit: she didn’t know it was his fault, that his eagerness to please and mean something, was what forced the Potters into hiding over a year ago.

He wondered now if he could keep that fact from her forever.

Their conversation remained pleasant and Severus drank up the positive attention that eased the knot his stomach had become ever since he had returned from a Death Eater meeting days ago and reported his findings to Dumbledore. Nothing had really changed, except now the Dark Lord seemed giddy. He refused to think why that was.

For all he hated Sirius Black with every fiber of his being, the one thing he knew to be fact, was that Black would sooner die than give up James and Lily Potter. As long as he was Secret Keeper, they were safe. She was safe.

Still, sleep did not come easily.

Ever since Lily’s name had fallen from the Dark Lord's lips, time had stopped. He wondered how the world kept turning when he was still frozen in that moment when the Dark Lord had confirmed Harry Potter’s birth and decided he was the prophesied one over the Longbottom boy, who had escaped that fate by only a handful of hours.

He wondered if maybe he was meant to be a Death Eater. If not for him, they would have never learned the Dark Lord planned to target the Potters. Then again, if not for him...the prophecy may have never been relayed to (and he forced himself to say the name) Voldemort in the first place.

“Try a sleeping draught.” Minerva’s soft voice interrupted his thoughts once more and then she walked away.

He looked around himself and realized they had returned to the corridor where his personal chambers were located. He surpassed the wards and took off his cloak, letting it fall to the ground as he stared into the fireplace once more.

The flames had died down and only fragile embers remained.

He cast a tempus charm and sighed as he learned it was past three in the morning. He climbed into bed, fervently hoping the weariness he could feel down to his bones would finally, finally let him sleep. Still, the voice in his head mocked him.

You cannot sleep because you are refusing to let it happen.

He groaned, because as much as he wished to deny it, that blasted voice in his head was right. He wanted to sleep, he wanted to forget existence for as long as the world granted him, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about Voldemort’s sudden giddiness.

They were safe, he reminded himself.

She was safe.

He knew how it would all end though, he knew someone had to die.

There was no use denying the third thing of the night he knew to be absolutely true: the Dark Lord would never stop trying to kill the boy he saw as a threat. If somehow, and oh Merlin, how he hoped with everything within him that this never happened, the Dark Lord learned of the Potter’s whereabouts, he knew Lily Potter would not step aside and let her son be killed.

He wouldn’t dare ask that of her.

If the Dark Lord found them, there would be three casualties that night. He couldn’t bear the thought of falling asleep and waking up to a world without Lily Potter. He couldn’t even stomach the idea of waking up to a world where James Potter no longer existed because he knew when that happened, it would have been his doing.

If turned to when because he knew and accepted what everyone else refused to see: the Dark Lord would not be defeated, not when the bringer of his decimation was barely a toddler. They had already been in hiding for a year; how many more would there be before they decided they would hide no longer and take their chances?

He wondered how much longer he would have to suffer these restless nights before he could finally ease his thoughts enough to fall asleep or if he had to wait for his questions to be answered, for the future to be decided, for someone to die before he could rest. He wondered if he would still be alive to see it all play out or if the deprivation would kill him instead. Maybe the Dark Lord would discover his deceit and kill him first. He idly wondered which ending he preferred.

He sighed and spent yet another hour for yet another night laying silently in the darkness.

--- A/N: insomnia? did you mean: overthinking? and day one is live! i wasn’t sure what direction i was going in when i started writing, but it chose itself. i also wasnt expecting to write more than 1k oh no, ive set expectations of myself

anyway, im so excited to see what everyone else has created!! ty so much for taking the time to read this!!

#snapetober 2020 #severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #professor snape #writing

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