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guacamoleroll · 3 months

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𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening.

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent.

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [lucifer]#que'd .ᐟ ‧₊˚#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader

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mercurygguk · 8 months

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head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were.

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless.

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends.

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed.

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

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briefcasing · 2 years

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tag dump

#☢ « ic ∘ in the beginning there was nothing which exploded »#☢ « hcs ∘ extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence »#☢ « about ∘ life would be tragic if it weren't funny »#☢ « musings ∘ never memorize something that you can look up »#☢ « aesthetic ∘ magic's just science that we don't understand yet »#☢ « asks ∘ do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken »#☢ « memes ∘ logic is a wonderful thing but doesn't always beat actual thought »#☢ « meme replies ∘ sometimes the dumbest thing you do turns out to be the smartest »#☢ « status ∘ a straight line is not the shortest distance between two points »#☢ « dash commentary ∘ to invent you need a good imagination and a pile of junk »#☢ « crack ∘ we don't devote nearly enough scientific research to finding a cure for jerks »#☢ « ooc ∘ from the desk of the cinnamon bunny »#☢ « promo ∘ extinction is the rule; survival is the exception »#☢ « self promo ∘ we are an impossibility in an impossible universe »

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ra-artblog · 1 year

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Today is March 12, sir Terry Pratchett Memorial Day, a day that is important for me to remember. This man, his books, helped me a lot in my childhood and are helping me up to this day. Therefore, every year I draw a lilac - this is a kind of a way to say "thank you" to a person who unfortunately will never hear it. But the world will hear his name once again, and a man is not dead while his name is still spoken.

#gnu terry pratchett #terry pratchett #a man is not dead while his name is still spoken #speak his name #discworld #art #artists on tumblr

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javaelemental · 2 months

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“Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?” ― Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” ― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

“She was already learning that if you ignore the rules people will, half the time, quietly rewrite them so that they don’t apply to you.” ― Terry Pratchett, Equal Rites

“The female mind is certainly a devious one, my lord.” Vetinari looked at his secretary in surprise. “Well, of course it is. It has to deal with the male one.” ― Terry Pratchett, Unseen Academicals

“A witch ought never to be frightened in the darkest forest, Granny Weatherwax had once told her, because she should be sure in her soul that the most terrifying thing in the forest was her.” ― Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith

#Terry Pratchett #Discworld #GNU Terry Pratchett

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krowbby · 6 months

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my current discworld audiobook is going postal and. i’m feeling emotional about grandad. he’s twenty six and he’s so much more experienced than the teens around him they call him grandad. i’m turning 23 at the end of this week, and sure, who in their 20s hasn’t made a joke about how ancient they feel. but this less reminds me of that joke and more reminds me of people in their 30s being called queer elders because we don’t HAVE many community members who are our grandparents age. later in the book, mad al says that one man has died for every three towers standing. how many of his peers has grandad lost? how many kids younger than himself has he lost? and he always has something to be doing in the tower when princess is there, so that this 13 year old girl isn’t alone with older boys. and then, during the big race:

And she wondered what Grandad most feared: that dead clacks-men could send messages to the living, or that they couldn’t.

i mean, fucking brutal, right? pterry has this knack for introducing characters with a tiny part in the story— i think across the whole book there’s maybe 3 pages about this clacks tower? — and making them feel so real that i’m over here tearing up about this guy. so of course, it’s fitting that one of the most meaningful quotes and moments for the whole fandom comes from this character:

It was Grandad who spoke next, after a long pause broken only by the squeaking of the new shutter bars. When he did speak, it was as if something was on his mind. ‘We keep that name moving in the Overhead,’ he said, and it seemed to Princess that the wind in the shutter arrays above her blew more forlornly, and the everlasting clicking of the shutters grew more urgent. ‘He’d never have wanted to go home. He was a real linesman. His name is in the code, in the wind in the rigging and the shutters. Haven’t you ever heard the saying “A man’s not dead while his name is still spoken”?’

#discworld #terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #going postal #HE SHOULD BE IN THE CLUB!!!

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jinwoosungs · 1 month

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{ 148 }

tiptoe.

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings: violence.

{ watch me fall above like a vicious dove | they don’t see me come, who can blame them? | never stopped to see me try, so i never had to lie }

you should have stayed home after all...

but how were you supposed to know that a group of rogue hunters were targeting you for the sole purpose of hurting your lover of 3 years-

sung jinwoo.

your day started out normal enough; you had gone into the city with plans to buy some groceries for the week. with your eyes solely focused on your phone as you wrote out your list from within your notes app. with jinwoo's shadow soldiers kept well hidden from inside your own shadow, you saw no reason to have fear or sense even an inkling of danger.

yet that all changes when you felt a particularly hard and blunt object smash into the back of your skull, sending waves of pain to course through your very veins as you lost consciousness. your face nearly lands against the harsh concrete of the sidewalk when your captors decides to capture you in their arms before bringing you back to their base of operations...

{ ... }

a group of rowdy men were seen within the abandoned warehouse, taking a drag of their cigarettes the moment their lackeys brought back your unconscious body.

with a grunt, the men toss your body against the concrete floors of the warehouse, your hair making a veil across your features as they remained hidden from the other hunters' view.

it was a scrawny hunter named seo-jun who decides to step forward while pushing up his glasses, looking down at your unconscious body. "do-yun, who is she? and why were you so set on capturing her?"

the leader, do-yun, flashes a smirk against the timid man, placing a hand on his shoulder, "why don't you admire her for a bit, then we'll have some fun with her..."

seo-jun gulps before making his way closer to you, curious as to who you were as the other men take a step back. his breathing was labored when he gingerly brushes back your hair. he sees the blood pouring from your head from how your body was suddenly dropped against the cold concrete floors of the warehouse, yet he couldn't deny how beautiful you still looked.

seo-jun knew that he recognized you, and when he finally realized your identity, he sharply inhales, feeling his blood turn cold at the mere sight of you.

"are you insane?! you captured the tenth s-ranker's lover! you just put a target on our heads-"

seo-jun feels his eyes widen when he sees your shadow lengthening, using his senses as he falls backwards, narrowly avoid the dagger that shoots out from the shadow.

he may have avoided the dagger, but the same couldn't be said for the men that had captured you. immediately, his eyes go wide when the blade lands within the base of his throat, the blood loss making him land with an audible 'thump!' against the ground.

seo-jun could already tell that the man was dead as his partner began to run out of the warehouse, fearing for his life. he couldn't move, feeling a sudden coldness surround him as the s-rank hunter appears from the depths of your shadows.

no words were spoken as sung jinwoo takes a protective stance in front of you, brandishing his two daggers in response as the ends of his trench coat sways in tune with his movements. do-yun and the rest of his crew didn't get a chance to even react when jinwoo moved so swiftly that it looked like he simply disappeared from seo-jun's eyes.

a wave of nausea hits him as the rest of his crew was left with a deep wound against their chests, a cut forming a large X over their chest as the deep red blood stains their cold, lifeless bodies. seo-jun nearly puked at the intense, coppery scent that fills the area.

"you." sung jinwoo's voice was filled with malice, wisps of shadows surrounding the entirety of his large frame the moment he takes great strides to reach the meek man.

"y-y-yes?"

"if you want to live, then heal her."

seo-jun nearly wet his pants in response to his demands, but eagerly nods his head, crawling closer to you as he placed a hand over your injured head. he allows the golden glow to surround you, with the wound disappearing as your breathing became less labored with pain.

he continues healing you until jinwoo's hand against the back of his shirt was felt lifting his lanky body away from you, tossing seo-jun's form aside as he lands against the harsh, cold floors with a grunt.

the impact causes his glasses to go askew as he sits up with a wince, watching jinwoo as he carefully lifts up your body within his embrace. his glowing eyes were filled with a love and devotion to you, and it was clear that he would do anything to keep you safe.

as seo-jun slowly gets back up to his feet, he hears jinwoo calling out your name before letting out a chuckle when you stir within his embrace.

"i'm in a good mood right now... i thought about killing you off, too, but ultimately decided against it because you healed her."

seo-jun didn't know what prompted him to speak with the hunter known as the shadow monarch when he continues to ask, "and, w-what would have happened if i wasn't a healer?"

jinwoo looks back at him with his eyes glowing a deeper purple. "then you would be left bleeding out with the rest of your crew."

the murderous intent was enough to bring seo-jun to his knees, filled with terror as he bowed down to him.

"i-i-i apologize for what we have done to your lover. please... continue to have mercy on me...!"

but his pleas fall on deaf ears the moment jinwoo ignores him, going towards the fallen hunters who planned to do unspeakable things to you. seo-jun glances behind him to see jinwoo tightening his hold on your body before speaking to those corpses.

"arise."

a sense of dread fills seo-jun's soul as jinwoo's dark voice echoes throughout the area, bringing forth 3 shadow soldiers who appeared like living skeletons as they floated away from their once living vessel. a smug expression was seen against the shadow monarch's features as he gives new commands to his newly formed soldiers.

"you all shall spend the rest of your life protecting my queen as punishment. this is only a small part of your retribution, do you have any objections?"

as if drawn to jinwoo, the shadows bow down to him without question, losing all form of autonomy as a new purpose filled them:

to serve sung jinwoo alone.

"no, my king. we shall serve you and your queen diligently. we are deeply sorry for our actions. please, forgive us."

with those last words, all three of jinwoo's newly made soldiers disappear within your shadow, making seo-jun shiver in response. he continues to remain on his knees, not daring to look up even when jinwoo passes him.

that man was no longer human, seo jun thought to himself as he kept his nose pressed against the ground.

for he knew that sung jinwoo was nothing short of a god now.

{ ... }

you let out a soft moan the moment you woke up, feeling like you had just fallen asleep.

your eyes were blurry when you look up to see jinwoo carrying you in his arms.

"hm? jinwoo...? what happened?"

he lets out a hum before looking down at you, lifting you up as he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips.

"hm, nothing much, you just got tired and fell asleep in a café."

you frown and tilt your head at him. "did i really? the last thing i remember was shopping for groceries-"

jinwoo immediately kisses you deeply just then, making you lose your train of thought as you moaned against his lips, kissing him back. almost instinctively, you delve your fingers into his soft, ebony locks of hair, basking in the sweetness of his kiss, not minding that he was purposely distracting you.

when the need for air proves to be too much, jinwoo pulls away from the kiss with a sigh, placing his lips against your forehead as he reassures you, "don't worry about it... now that you're awake, how about we go out to eat?"

"really?! we can go to..." you tell him the name of your favorite restaurant, earning a nod from him.

"yes, absolutely."

as jinwoo basks in your giggles while carrying you, you remain blissfully unaware of the three new shadow soldiers' eyes blinking up at you, now fiercely loyal to you-

you truly hadn't the slightest clue just how far the shadow monarch would go to keep you safe.

a.n. - yeah, that chapter where jinwoo beat up hwang dong-su for hurting jinho was still hot af to me, so i had to make my own version where he saves the reader from a similar situation ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo sung #.stories

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hidtired · 1 month

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hi! i saw your post and i would like to suggest something sweet and fluffy. maybe a confession after years of pining on the road and alexandria fells like a fresh start to daryl and reader!

Your wish is my command!

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Unspoken Things

Description: Words never came easy to Daryl. After the loss of the prison and finding Alexandria however, he just couldn’t stop them.

1.3k words

You and Daryl would hover near each other. Everyone had always just assumed that something was going on between you two. Daryl was a private guy that liked privacy. Woodbury and others that came to the prison knew as well or thought they did. Referring to them as “the hunter and his lady.” He never corrected them, and little did he know neither did you.

He knew you cared about him. You had shown him that much. Just as you had known. It was unspoken. Just like how while on the road again after the Prison and Terminus. Your place was next to him. You would walk with him in the back. Sleep next to him. Took watch with him.

You sat next to him while having to eat the dogs you found. He rubbed your back as you tried not to cry about what you were eating. You loved dogs but you simply had to eat. You had hugged him before you all were going to start walking again. You were seeking comfort. It made Daryl heart pound thinking you wanted it from him.

You would let him walk off the path to go “looking for water/food”. Not before offering to go with him. You saw he was struggling after Beth then Tyrese. Mostly Beth. He felt guilty anyone could see it. That boy has way more heart than he lets himself believe.

When it started raining stopping the long quest for water. You just lent your head back to catch it into your mouth. Then you looked to see the expression on his face. You realize while starring at him that you were fully and utterly in love with him. To the point his pain was yours. You wanted to take care of him and wash that expression from him like the rain.

He lead you all to a barn after the rain became thunder. You sat next to him by the fire but were mesmerized by the flames and drifted to sleep sitting up. What woke you was him getting up and tapping your shoulder after saying something to Rick walking off.

You were confused but followed after him. He lent back down against a wall and sat there. You flopped on your side facing him. Putting your hand on his leg looking at him worriedly. He inhaled looking down at you. He grabbed your hand off his leg and started rubbing it feeling how cold you were. You curled the other arm under your head and fully laid down.

You don’t know how long you slept a hour or two before Daryl was rushing up beside you springing you awake ready for danger. Still with sleep in your eyes you stumble moving to keep the door to the barn closed.

Morning came leaving you all exhausted from the dead and storm. Then a man named Aaron. A man you will soon attribute your thanks for safety in a community.

Alexandria unnerved you. By the looks of it everyone is a little unnerved. It’s like you walk into a TV show. After having interviews with the leader you were granted a house. Well 2 but you’re not splitting up. That first night you had showered and were laying on the floor near Daryl completely passed out.

Daryl would look from the outside the window to your sleeping form. He took pride in the fact that you felt safe enough to sleep as hard as you were. A unspoken form again of saying how much you trusted him. Unspoken he thought. That always seemed to be the case no words spoken between them about this thing about them. Just actions. But why?

The next morning everyone went exploring or to there new jobs. You stayed at the house. You were apart of the people who went on runs now. You didn’t see a need to leave the house you were tired. You sat on the porch glass of water in hand watching Daryl fiddle with his crossbow. Then for the first time. That unspoken silence was broken.

“I think ya might be the prettiest person in the world…”

You look to him with wide startled eyes trying to process if you actually heard what he just said. He thinks is all the time. Thinks a lot of things about you. This was just the first he said it out loud and well, to you. The smile that came across your face as you tilted your head toward him.

“Are you trying to butter me up Dixon?”

He only held your gaze seeming resolved. “Among other things.” You chuckled and had a warm smile and a look in your eyes. “Well it’s working.” You held your hand in front of your face to try and cover its probable redness. Sure felt like it.

Daryl looking down at the floor shyly as well. He thought a lot last night while you slept. Alexandria was either another thing to crush or enjoy. Either way it was a new start. He just didn’t think he could do it any longer without having something…. More with you.

“As far as I’m concerned Daryl.” You stood up and made your slow walk backwards into the house. “You’ve already swept me off my feet.” Daryl heart ached in his ribs. Are you saying what he thinks you’re saying? Did you just challenge him to try and come fishing for more from you? He abandoned his crossbow by the door and slowly walking into the house after you. You’re fully smiling at his entrance. That expression on his face was like nothing you’ve seen him make. Like… if you poke him a little he would spill. He also looked like when he was hunting.

He walked closer to you hesitantly putting his arms around your waist. Your heart pounding at the fact this was finally happening. He looked down at you before that sweet look became mischievous. He tightened his hold on you and swept you off your feet. Your laughter filled the room at the sudden movement. Arms flying to hold on to him. “Now that’s just cheating.” You said leaning back to look at him. He started walking over to the couch with you in his arms. “You said I already swept you off your feet. Thought I could at leas’ do it properly.”

He sat you down on the couch. You looked up to him, “Properly hmm?” He sighed and looked to your smiling face. He was nervous. “I just thought that maybe- I just care about you so damn much. Unlike I do with anyone else.” Your face changes from happiness to awe. “I want you, as mine.” He grunted in frustration at the inability to speak his feeling.

Your then awe then soon turns to shock at his words if you weren’t careful you might start crying and attack this man with all you bundled hidden affection. He still continued by dropping to his knees. In front of you to be eye level. It was now just flowing out of him with no filter and overthinking with his words. “I’m hopeless when it comes to you. I’ve never know love but know I have it for you-” You were slowly leaning toward him catching his face in your hands. He keep stammering on. “If you have’ ta break my heart, it was only ever yours to break.”

That did it. You leaned into him kissing him surprising him. Your hands going to in tangle into his hair. He sighed into the kiss bring his hand to your waist. He slowly raised himself to above you on the couch. Leg in between yours as his hand moves to grab and angle your face up more into him. You break to breath huffing out air looking up into the man that just poured his soul into your own.

You tilted your head back farther looking up at him. “I’ve always been the ‘hunters’ lady, I suppose. Always been in love with him to. He is just the kind of guy you want to grab and say..? Keep his heart safe.” Your arms come around his neck, he is looking at you like a puppy. His arms come under yours lifting you into him. He leans back with in you his arms standing. “He sounds stupid for leaving things unsaid…”

Requests are still open and waiting! Also FYI I’m heavily dyslexic so apologies for mistakes. I reread this all like crazy but still miss a lot.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl imagines #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #norman reedus #fluff

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