#had a lot of fun messing around with style here
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A Liturgy of Surviving
Scarlett always wanted to be like her mother, and maybe in another world she could have been. If the war never happened, she could have grown softer instead of sharper. She could have curbed her temper, married well, and been received in respectable homes all her days. Maybe, if it hadn’t been for the war, Scarlett O’Hara could have lived out her days in genteel artifice, just like Ellen before her.
Maybe. Maybe not. If you asked her, Scarlett would say that the question was irrelevant. “God’s nightgown!” she would exclaim. “Don’t ask me what could have been. The war happened and that’s that.”
I won’t think about that now.
The day after Scarlett’s world ended, she swore an oath that she would never be hungry again.
She woke in pain. Her muscles ached and her joints creaked. She was nineteen, but she felt like she had a hundred years weighing her body down. Morning light slanted through the window and her head ached with the moonshine liquor that she’d downed the night before. From another room, she heard an infant crying.
She passed through the dining room without eating, pausing only briefly beside her grief-ravaged father. She found Pork on the porch shelling nuts. The sun was up. Scarlett O'Hara drew herself tall and began to marshal her troops.
Melly and her sisters were still infirm, so they were useless for now. Mammy could tend them, and Pork and Prissy were to round up the livestock. Dilcey to Macintosh, herself to Twelve Oaks; perhaps they’d find food. Yes, I know. I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Now get going.
Those days as the war staggered to its end were some of the longest of her life. In between them, Scarlett would collapse into bed and rub the welts on her feet with clumsy fingers. Sometimes she’d picture Ellen and all her gentle admonitions to kindness and refinement, and she’d say aloud to the walls, “What happened to me? What am I doing?”
She didn’t dwell on the question, but somehow, she always knew the answer. “I’m doing what I must,” she would answer herself. “I’m surviving.”
People didn’t talk back to Scarlett anymore. They were all afraid of her sharp tongue, of the new person who walked in her body. This Scarlett bullied and cajoled until everyone obeyed her, and inevitably her orders were to work. She was all edges; any softness that she’d once possessed had been sanded away splitting rails and picking cotton. Good, she thought. Let them fear me, if it keeps us all standing.
I’ll think about it tomorrow.
Scarlett was sixteen when the war began: sixteen in green muslin, fearless and unencumbered. She had her mother’s slim waist and her father’s square jaw, but her clear green eyes were her own.
She was sixteen when she married Charles Hamilton and lost him, seventeen when she bore his child and draped herself in black crepe. She got Melly and Wade in the bargain, but she didn’t want either of them. She wanted Ashley. She wanted to dance! She wanted, she wanted. She wanted Scarlett O’Hara back.
At nineteen years old, Scarlett survived the destruction of her whole world. She could have cried for the loss of her girlhood, for her old self long gone with the soft hands and dancing slippers, but what good would it have done? Curled up in her childhood bed at Tara, Scarlett didn’t cry. Instead, she folded in on herself, knees tucked up to her chest, and tried not to feel her muscles aching. She would have to get up again tomorrow, no matter how badly her shoulders still hurt.
She had strong shoulders, Scarlett O’Hara. That was maybe the most important thing about her. At any time, at any age, her shoulders could bear whatever they were given. “I’m surviving,” she would say each morning when she rose. A stranger’s freckled face greeted her in the mirror, but Scarlett only squared her small thin shoulders, breathed in, took one step and then another.
Tomorrow, when I can stand it.
Calluses form like this: repeated pressure or friction is applied to the skin, most often of the hand or the foot. The outer layer, which is made of dead cells, begins to be retained rather than flaking off normally. The dead cells accumulate, forming hard layers sometimes hundreds of cells thick.
They form like this: you use your skin. The shell of hardness around it slowly thickens.
I can stand anything now.
The day after Rhett left, Scarlett packed up Wade and Ella and she once again drove the long road home to Tara. She pushed her way past Suellen at the threshold, exchanged brief pleasantries with Will, and then fell into her old bed as she’d done so many times before.
The next morning found Scarlett basking in the slanting yellow light that struck the porch from the east. Her eyes were fixed on the fields beyond and there was a devilish look on her face.
When Rhett came back—and he would come back, he had promised he would—he would find her here at Tara, where she was strongest. “He liked when I was strong,” Scarlett said to herself. That was something she’d always known, for all that she’d been blind to the true dimensions of it.
Day after day, Scarlett rose and moved through Tara’s halls. She ate her breakfasts in the place where she’d faced down the Yankee army, sorted through figures where she’d once debated with Melanie over whether they ought to risk sending Pork out on the horse to look for food. Twenty times a day, she walked past the place at the base of the stairs where she’d shot her deserter dead. Here, in these halls, she had made her greatest stands.
She’d stood more rigidly then, threadbare and starving and uncertain. She’d come to the end of herself, only to find that she had wells of strength hidden deeper than she knew. Her hands were calloused and dirty. What else could she do?
I’ll never be hungry again.
It’s easy to view Scarlett as hard and amoral. Even those closest to her would not have contested that characterization. Perhaps Melly would have argued, but then, Melly always saw the good in everyone. Scarlett killed and she stole and she schemed and she cheated, and she did it all in cold blood. What a selfish, conniving bitch, you might say.
It’s easy to forget Scarlett’s compassion. When she beat that poor horse to keep it trudging the long road home to Tara, she regretted hurting a tired animal. Her concern for Melanie, her friendship for Will Benteen, her joy when Rhett made her laugh: these were all true and genuine.
Didn’t Scarlett love her father and mother? Didn’t she grieve to see her friends and neighbors ruined by war? Scarlett O’Hara risked her life to save Charlie’s sword for Wade to inherit, and she built her mills for him and Ella both.
None of this negates the ruthless things she did in the name of survival, but it does begin to explain them. Scarlett made herself hard when hard was what she needed to be. She determined to live without reservation, without softness and with little kindness. Rhett called her cruel, and maybe he was right. But Melly also called her sacrificial and devoted, and maybe she was right too.
No, nor any of my kin.
On that road home to Tara, Scarlett once said, “If the horse is dead, I will curse God and die too.” Someone in the Bible had done just that—cursed God and died. Scarlett remembered feeling like that person, a despair of Biblical magnitude.
But the horse was alive, and so Scarlett did not die. Later, she thanked God that her knees still had the strength to support her, that her neck was still strong enough to hold her head high. Scarlett was not Job’s wife, nor even Job himself. She was Rahab, who escaped the destruction of Jericho, who saved her whole household and survived.
“What a fast trick,” said the Old Guard when she stole Frank Kennedy away from Suellen. No, Scarlett could never be Job. She was Jacob, the trickster and supplanter.
Just a few more days for to tote the weary load.
Scarlett was easily provoked into courage; that was one of the first things that Rhett learned about her. A few insults, a pointed comment, and Scarlett lifted her chin and flounced off to prove just how brave she could be. She shed her crepe years early, and to Halifax with anyone who objected.
Rhett did that same thing to her on the awful day that Atlanta burned. He insulted her and laughed at her, and when Scarlett spat, “I’m not afraid,” it was true. Her hands, which had moments ago been shaking too badly to hold anything, were steady now, and anger had crowded all the fear out of her voice.
Rhett kept needling her all the way out of the city, until they reached the Rough and Ready where he left her. The banter kept her sharp. As long as her eyes were flashing in indignation, she hardly noticed the fire.
Even after Rhett left, his jabs stayed with her. “What would Rhett say if he knew I couldn’t do this?” spurred her back into action more times than she would ever admit. It was a petty kind of courage, and it felt smaller than the great, soaring motivation that came with thoughts of Tara, of the O’Hara name and Irish pride and red earth, but sometimes petty courage was enough to bridge the gap between strength and exhaustion.
He gave her something to hold onto, something to ground her, and even Rhett only halfway understood what that meant. I want you at your best, he never told her, but he pulled her into it by taffeta ribbons and witticisms. As the years rolled by, she rose to meet him. They swapped sharp words and insults, him always claiming to know her and her shouting, “You don’t know half!”
One day on the jostling ride out to her mills, Scarlett told Rhett about the fire that the Yankees set in Tara’s kitchen. “I’m not afraid of fire anymore,” she declared with something like pride, and Rhett remembered goading her past the flames the night Atlanta burned. “I beat it out with my skirts, and then Melly had to beat me out when my back caught,” she went on. “Now I’m not afraid of anything but hunger.”
I don’t want you to fear anything in all the world, Rhett didn’t say. Once they were married, he laughed at her appetite and teased her, “Don’t scrape the plate, Scarlett. I’m sure there’s more in the kitchen.”
No matter, ‘twill never be light.
After the war, Rhett had his millions. Ashley had his honor. Melly had the Association for the Beatification of the Graves of Our Glorious Dead. Scarlett held a ball of red clay in her fist and whispered, “I have this.”
Her father built Tara from nothing and he loved those acres like they could love him back. He had come to Georgia a poor immigrant boy and he had won that red earth. Whatever Gerald could do, his daughter could do too: of this she was certain. This land, this firm red clay on which she stood, was both her battlefield and her prize; her birthright and her hallowed ground. She gripped it tight with all the passion of a lover. She longed for its rolling fields on cold nights in Atlanta, sleeping beside Frank Kennedy.
“Yes, I have this,” and she let the dirt run between her fingers and lodge beneath her nails. Melly had Ashley and Ashley his senseless honor. Scarlett had Tara.
I’ve still got this.
When she rode out in her buggy with her lap robe pulled up to her bosom, Scarlett heard how people whispered. She felt indignant about it the first time, and the second time she worried what Ellen would have thought. The third time, she decided not to care.
She still complained to Rhett about the whispering as he was holding the reins one afternoon. He didn’t laugh at her, just looked sideways from the road with his dark eyes and nodded like he understood. “Be different and be damned!” Rhett said, and his tone was like a soldier who’d heard the bugle. It was so strange, how Scarlett could tell him all the worst things about her and he would always answer back like they were medals instead of secret shames.
Most of the city was in mourning, but Scarlett wore colors. She pilfered the store’s inventory in search of bright green, washed and mended her curtain dress as many times as it would stand, and when the money came she wore gowns of emerald, blush, indigo, and scarlet. Let them stare, she thought. See if I care.
At twenty-two, Scarlett rode up to Pittypat’s in the evenings, long after Frank had come home from the store, and she felt condemned. To the well-bred folks of Atlanta, she was as bad as a Scallawag. But sometimes, when she was alone, Scarlett ran her hands beneath the lap robe and hoped that Rhett was wrong about children and grandchildren, that the child she was carrying would understand one day. I hope you’re nothing like Frank, she thought. I hope you have shoulders like mine.
I’ll never be hungry again.
“It’s no use, Scarlett. You can’t scrub out the past,” said Rhett when at last he came to Tara. “You can’t take back the last ten years, no matter how you’ve come — to appreciate my charms.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Scarlett snapped. “There’s never any going back. Not ever. But Rhett—” she reached for his hand. “I love you, and at last we understand each other. We can build something out of that.”
They argued about it until Rhett left again, fuming and bitter, his Panama hat pulled low over his face. Scarlett made an unannounced visit to Charleston the next month. “I was thinking,” she suggested, “That we might sell the Peachtree Street house.”
Scarlett knew all the words for making men love her, so long as she understood what it was that they wanted. The Tarleton twins had wanted merry excitement; Charles had wanted to feel important and Frank had wanted to feel like a strong, successful man. Ashley had wanted someone braver and better than he was, and he’d found it in Melanie without having to risk himself on Scarlett. Scarlett had never understood what it was Rhett wanted, but she did now. Why, it’s always been my love he wants! So Scarlett spoke the right words, and this time she meant them.
“You were right when you said that we’re alike. Only—you’ve always known about me, whereas I’m just starting to know you. Will you tell me about that knife fight in California again? About the sail boat you won at cards?”
“You know those stories,” clipped Rhett. “You don’t need to hear them again.” So Scarlett went downstairs and pried the stories out of his mother instead.
The house on Peachtree Street sold within the month, snatched up by some Carpetbagger who wanted it for a hotel. Rhett traveled to Mexico, and returned to find Scarlett back at Tara preparing for spring planting.
“What do the women wear in Mexico?” she asked him, leaning on the porch railing in the slanting light. “What is your favorite place you’ve ever traveled?”
Rhett indulged her in brief, but then abruptly he chuckled and shook his head. “I know what you’re doing, you little minx.”
“Yes,” said Scarlett. “Of course you do.”
Tomorrow, oh tomorrow!
The clay soil of Georgia is red from iron oxides. It’s red the way rust is red, the way blood is red. If a blister splits open and your blood falls on the ground, that iron-red soil will just swallow it up. You can bleed and bleed, and the stuff in your blood will always be one with the stuff of the soil.
When cotton and vegetables sprout from the ground, it’s easy to believe they grew from your very own blood, and that your own sweat and tears watered them.
Never look back.
“We women were soldiers too,” Melanie said once. Scarlett didn’t respect her yet—at least, not consistently—but this might have been one of the moments where she first looked at Melly and thought not that her heart was soft and timid, but that it was a sword.
“We never expected to be – or at least I didn’t.” She looked around the circle of ladies, at India and Fanny, until her eyes came to rest on Scarlett at last. “We were children then. We all imagined the world far simpler than it was.”
Melly, India, Fanny, Scarlett. These women had all been girls together. They knew one another at seven, twelve, fifteen, swaddled in silks and trying to seem more grown-up than their playmates. They’d competed for beaus and Scarlett had mostly won, except where Ashley Wilkes was concerned. They had lived through the war together. Now, Scarlett sat among them on Melly’s front porch and tried to remember if she’d ever in her life felt like one of them.
For Christmas, Melanie gave Scarlett a small book of poetry. Scarlett never read it, except for the one verse which Melly had marked with a green ribbon. She bit back the urge to sigh when she undid the wrapping, but Melly pointed out the bookmark and said, “This one made me think of you, dear.”
Scarlett didn’t like to think of it now, but once she’d been sixteen in green muslin, confident that dimples and a clear complexion were the only weapons she’d ever need. She had been a child, but that child had not died when Atlanta burned. The belle of Clayton County was not in the grave with all the boys who’d never come riding home from war. Scarlett was alive. She was right here.
“What is a dead girl but a shadowy ghost/ Or a dead man's voice but a distant and vain affirmation/Like dream words most? / Therefore I will not speak of the undying glory of women. / I will say you were young and straight and your skin fair/ And you stood in the door and the sun was a shadow of leaves on your shoulders/ And a leaf on your hair—"
Scarlett came home from her mills in the gray evening and she made her way back to the Wilkes’s ramshackle front porch. She left her buggy feeling condemned and she sat with the other ladies feeling alienated, but all the same she couldn’t bring herself not to go. The war was over, and these were the survivors. They were through fighting, hung up on glory, but Scarlett still hadn’t holstered her guns.
“We were soldiers,” said Melanie, and in her heart Scarlett added, “Some of us still are.”
I won’t let them lick me.
Supposing that Ashley had married her. Perhaps the sight of her in green makes him brave enough to shed his veneer of honor and say, “Yes, you’re right, I can’t live without you.” It’s a minor scandal when he casts Melanie off in her favor, but not for long. The war is beginning and besides, good men have made themselves fools for Scarlett O’Hara before. By the time the soldiers march away, the scandal is all but forgotten in favor of the fine figure they cut as they embrace at the depot: Ashley so brave in his uniform, his young wife radiant as she clutches him.
Ashley sends her long, meandering letters full of philosophical musings. Scarlett reads them uncomprehending and sends back missives full of I love yous. She kisses them when she mails them, sometimes with a Hail Mary for her husband’s safety.
Rhett doesn’t notice this Scarlett at Twelve Oaks, and so he’s caught off guard when he hears the young Mrs. Wilkes say something blunt and scathing at the Bazaar. He chuckles to himself in delight and later he asks her to dance, and of course Scarlett simpers and agrees, and it’s a merry night. But Rhett doesn’t come back to Atlanta for the rest of the war.
This Scarlett leaves for Macon with the rest of the women when the Yankees come to Atlanta; after all, she has no Melly to keep her in the city during the siege. She takes Ashley’s child with her, and it’s in Macon that he finds her after the war. He waxes poetic about the Old Days, the Horrors of War and Götterdämmerungs and the like. He looks at her with sad, tired eyes and Scarlett says yes, I heard you the first time. But what are we going to do?
Twelve Oaks is razed. They go to Tara. Ashley tries his hand at farming, but it’s Scarlett who manages to pick and plant and organize while Ashley’s fumbling attempts at working with his hands yield scant success. His heart isn’t in it, which infuriates Scarlett. C’mon, get up and fight! She looks into the tired face of the man she loved so ruinously at sixteen and wonders what she ever thought was so noble about him.
When taxes come due there’s no way to pay. What’s more, Ashley doesn’t even try. It’s here that Scarlett breaks with her husband. Between Ashley and Tara, it’s Tara every time.
So Scarlett bullies her husband into calling old debts in from a few impoverished friends and when that isn’t enough, she goes to see the tax assessor dressed in green velvet and makes some very personal insinuations about Mr. Jonas Wilkerson. From there, Scarlett bullies her one-time-beloved and does as she pleases, and Ashley has to live with the fact that it’s his wife who provides for the family. In every world, it is Scarlett O’Hara who keeps Ashley Wilkes alive after the war.
His pride lays down in the dirt and dies. Scarlett Wilkes shakes her head bitterly and plants more seed in her red, red earth.
Supposing Scarlett could have imagined all this. What do you think she would say? Perhaps in her youth she would have cherished the idea, but the hard-eyed Scarlett who emerged after the war would have only leveled her small shoulders and said, “What does it matter what would have happened? I’ll think about it later.”
There but for a lot of gumption am I.
The day after Bonnie died, Scarlett called for the buggy and went to her store. Rhett took this as proof that Scarlett had never really loved the little girl, that she was devoid of maternal affection as he’d always suspected, but Scarlett was grieving in her own way. She threw out two uncut bolts of blue velvet: expensive fabric over which she’d have upbraided a clerk to hell and back if he’d wasted even a few inches.
It was true that Scarlett had never wanted any of her children when she’d carried them. She had not felt joy or love or any of the feelings that other women described when first she saw them. What she did feel, in the moments after Dr. Meade placed each child in her arms, was a fierce surge of protectiveness. She was certain that she would work and sacrifice and even die for her children, if need be. They were her blood, her flesh, her kin.
Scarlett had hated pregnancy each time it happened to her. She hated feeling large and lumbering, hated the way that her tiny waist bloated and grew until even her modified dresses didn’t fit right. She hated the inconvenience of morning sickness, the limitations on what she could do, the necessity of seclusion as delivery drew near. It was nine months of hardship and frustration capped off with many long minutes of excruciating pain.
Bonnie had died in an instant. She’d been flying towards the hurdle and then, half a breath later, she’d been gone. Standing in the back of the store with two bolts of blue velvet before her, Scarlett swallowed back tears that Rhett would never see. It wasn’t right that a child who’d taken her so much time and effort to bring into the world could be gone from it so quickly.
When she returned to the house a few hours later, Rhett had locked himself in the bedroom with Bonnie’s tiny body. Scarlett paused for a moment outside the door, but then she squared her shoulders and kept walking.
Just a few more days for to tote the weary load.
Scarlett had a habit of humming “My Old Kentucky Home” while she worked. Splitting wood, planting and picking cotton, driving between her mills, keeping the books—even sewing. The song was a thoughtless thing, an instinctual thing. She hummed it the same way a person might worry lips between teeth or tear at nails.
She repeated the words again and again until her heart pulsed to their rhythm. Just a few more days for to tote the weary load. I’ll think about it tomorrow, when I can stand it. Tomorrow, tomorrow. No matter, ‘twill never be light. I’ll never be hungry again. No, nor any of my kin. I’ll never be hungry again. They were a mantra: something to hold onto when the whole breadth of her world had narrowed to a single point. A refrain. A liturgy of surviving.
Just a few more steps
Rhett loved Scarlett and it was terrifying. He feared that she would treat him like one of her country beaus: a lovely toy to play with and to tear to ribbons when she was done. He was afraid, so he hid his heart behind his impressive poker face and said “I want you” instead of “I love you.” He called her “pet” instead of “sweetheart.”
Scarlett loved Rhett and it was slow. He brought her bonnets and bonbons and Scarlett thought, “Why, it’s almost like I was in love with him!” He came to help her the day Atlanta burned, and Scarlett thought that she’d like to stay in his arms forever. When he chauffeured her to the mills, she thought that he was the only person in the world to whom she could tell the truth.
"You never told me you loved me, you know," Scarlett said the next time she visited Charleston. "I never knew. That's not to say you were wrong about me - about what I would have done if you had said something. But you should have been brave enough to risk it all the same."
Rhett closed his eyes for a moment and his mask slipped away. It was doing that more and more these days.
"But I did tell you — once."
"I think I would have remembered that," said Scarlett, pursing her lips.
"Ah. ‘It is far off; and rather like a dream than an assurance that my remembrance warrants.’ I suppose my humble confession was the least of your worries that day."
Scarlett wrinkled her nose. "What?"
"The day Atlanta burned, my dear."
After a long moment, Scarlett gave a little gasp which turned into a sigh as it ended. "Oh. That's right, you did then, didn't you?" She shook her head. "Rhett, I do believe you have the worst timing of any person I know."
As God is my witness
The day she married Charles, she wore Ellen’s cream-colored silk gown, aired out in a hurry from the chest where it had been sitting since the O’Haras married back in 1846. She couldn’t breathe for how tight her laces were —sixteen inches, like Ellen’s waist was when the dress was purchased— and perhaps that was a good thing. Scarlett was light-headed throughout the ceremony and she scarcely remembered it afterwards.
The day she decided to have Frank, it was raining hard. Scarlett left the jail in sodden velvet and was grateful for the drops falling on her cheeks to disguise the tears. It was sunny the day of the wedding, but she scarcely noticed that. Afterwards, when she thought of marrying Frank, Scarlett would always remember the rain.
There was a fine mist over everything the day she got Rhett back for good. Scarlett was wearing her work clothes when he came riding up to Tara; she’d been walking the cotton fields that day, overseeing the progress of the crop. They were both a little damp when he kissed her.
I’ll never be hungry again.
O’Haras and Robillards had always known how to dig their nails in, and by God, Scarlett was both. Her namesakes had long ago fought for their own plots of Irish earth; had survived and died and been hanged fighting to hold onto it. All Scarlett’s forebears, her folk, had left crescent-moon imprints on all that was theirs when it was finally pried from her hands. Scarlett gripped her little ball of clay and felt her nails dig into the heels of her hands.
She was her father’s hot-tempered daughter, but she had her mother’s steel-hewn spine. All the years of her life, she never saw Ellen Robillard O’Hara rest her back against a chair. When Scarlett’s own time came, she held herself every bit as straight as her mother: she didn’t rest or lean, just stood and stood.
Maybe this is what she was always made for. Her green eyes weren’t for charming young men, they were for seeing dresses in curtains. Her hands were never supposed to be soft; they were meant for digging in the red dirt. Even her lips—Rhett was wrong, they weren’t meant for kissing. Scarlett’s lips were as sharp as the words that she spoke when she wasn’t afraid what anyone thought. They were meant to draw blood.
She had been sharp all her life, even when her edges were carefully concealed in layers of satin. Scarlett was not made to be soft; her core held no gentleness. She could not pretend otherwise. All she could do was stand straight, and hold up her tired old shoulders like they were the strongest thing in the world.
I’ll think about it tomorrow.
One day, at the Butler home in Charleston, Rhett taught Scarlett how to play poker, and subsequently how to cheat. They were still playing hours later, counting cards and hiding them in sleeves and making all kinds of ridiculous bets on losing hands. Just as she was taking off her right earbob to call, the thought rose to Scarlett’s mind unbidden: “What on earth are we doing here?” And just as quickly, there was the answer. “We’re living.”
At the end of this most recent road home, weary and damp from running through the fog, Scarlett found her way back into Rhett’s arms. In the evenings she listened to his stories and witticisms, and late at night she listened to the sound of his breathing. I will not speak of undying glory, she thought. Rhett was still here, and so was she. They were both still here.
Scarlett took off her left earbob too, for good measure. “I’ll raise you,” she said. “I have a good feeling about this hand.” There was still an ace hidden up her sleeve, but if Rhett noticed it he didn’t say anything.
They survived together. They built something new. There is always profit to be made in building things, and these two were nothing if not industrious.
After all, tomorrow is another day.
#i am fully aware that none of you followed me for gone with the wind lol#that said- it's one of my all time favorite books#like. in a dead heat with narnia#i've wanted to write some sort of character study-ish thing for gwtw for just about as long as i've had this blog#and having just reread it last week i decided it was time#had a lot of fun messing around with style here#is the prose a little self indlugent? absolutely#but it was fun#if lucy pevensie is half of my heart scarlett o'hara is the other#they absolutely would not get along#but that's beside the point#(actually you know who actually might mesh pretty well with scarlett? eowyn. probably not great friends or anything#but at least a nod of respect)#to tote the weary load#leah stories#literature makes us more human#pontifications and creations#also for the record this is the most i'm willing to speculate about what happens post- novel#the sequels are all trash and unlike with say Susan i'm very much content to say#'I believe in Scarlett's ability to succeed. she'd gonna be fine'#and apart from that let the ending be bittersweet and hopeful#trying to fill it in much beyond really broad strokes is a totally futile endeavor#and i have no idea why people bother trying#'tomorrow is another day' deserves to be the last word in scarlett's story#that is all
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Tiger Fanart
Hey, I decided to draw again. This time, it's @micechicken's OC Tiger (also from the Sunshine story). So, obviously, the OC isn't mine, but no reposting, editing, claiming the art, tracing, or using this image for any program, NFT, or AI.
I love cats.
#estee's posts#estee's art#heyy hope you don't mind lol#I decided to upload it because#you had liked the ask I sent to your sister#ofc lemme know if you want it down#otherwise I really like drawing other people's ocs lol#lets me mess around with interpreting different styles in my own#and also it lets me relax#without the pressure to get *everything* right#when drawing my own ocs#also. when I had the giant ref of everyone for darby#I finished and was like. hm.#there's a lot of other designs I could try here.#so I started drawing Tiger and also Marcy (still a wip) lolllll#I only vaguely remember the tutorial for drawing cats' faces#but I think I did pretty well!#the body looked whack at first though lol#looked like a person's shoulders#anyways yeah I had fun! hope you like it! :]
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when you hold me | azriel
summary; azriel doesn't realise quite how touch-starved he is until he finally gets a little bit of affection, and he loves it.
word count; 17,202
notes; this is in bullet form. it is insanely long. I have no excuses.
so here’s the thing, azriel's love language is touch, okay?
he’s touch-starved and a physically affectionate person, but he got so used to being cast out that he really repressed that side of himself.
even when he didn’t have to anymore, he had a reputation to uphold, by then.
he's the shadowsinger. the spy. the illyrian brute. the night court terror. silent but deadly. moody and quiet. darkness personified.
not really someone who cuddles, y’know?
now, luckily for him, cassian and rhys have different reputations, and they’re both quite physically loving too, so he doesn’t have to let his need for physical attention show.
cassian is constantly touching him, and everyone.
so he really doesn't struggle to get affection there, he can pout and roll his eyes and frown as much as he wants, but he secretly loves it, and cassian secretly knows it.
all the hair ruffling, arms around shoulders that turn into a headlock, and dramatic leaning/falling into az that cassian does? az eats that shit up. loves it.
rhysand also does a lot of touching. he isn't so much an affectionate toucher; he just does it without realising.
a lot of pats on the shoulders, hugs, gently bumping him with a hand, elbow, or hip to get past, rhysand does a lot of general touches, but az loves that too.
mor has absolutely no sense of personal space, like none whatsoever. she plays with his hair when she thinks it needs styling better, and often lays down with her head in his lap when they have deeper chats, and she dances with him on nights out. if he's ever in urgent need of a little physical affection, he finds mor, because she'll just start touching him as soon as she sees him.
with nesta and elain, he often offers to fly them around, or 'winnow' them where they need to go, because they'll always hold onto him, even just for a few seconds.
going out with feyre means she always stays close to his side. if they go shopping, she links arms with him, grabs his wrist to drag him along when she sees something she likes, and often gets herself so tired out that by the end of the day, she is practically falling asleep on him as they walk home.
he realised that if he offers to sit and pose for her paintings, she'll mess with him and rearrange him until he's sat how she wants.
he purposefully never learned how to do his own tie so someone else would do it ("my hands are too big for fiddly little knots, alright?")
he often asks cass to help him do up the seals on the back of his leathers ("hurts my shoulder trying to reach round and do up the clasps on these damn things.")
he likes teaching people to train because they rely on him for form corrections, and he likes sparring with rhys and cass because that means a lot of wrestling and pushing and he can have fun with it.
basically, azriel takes any fucking scrap of physical affection he can get, in any way.
and then you step into his life.
it's a cold evening in the middle of the winter, and azriel is pouting a little on the couch, because nobody has touched him all day.
in fact, touch has been declining a lot lately.
nesta no longer needs him to fly her around, she has cassian wrapped around her finger.
mor spends most of her time with emerie, whom azriel actually rather likes, which is worse, because he can't even hate her.
elain has been spending most of her time travelling with lucien, and never needs him anymore.
feyre and rhys spend most of their time with nyx now, which he cannot begrudge them for.
and amren was never particularly touchy, he found solace in not feeling like the only lonely one, but now she has varian, and he hates how bitter his jealousy tastes when he sees how affectionate she truly is.
and he doesn't have anyone.
everyone is chatting, and drinking, and the door opens, and in come lucien and elain.
hand in hand, noses and cheeks red from the cold, and hair a little messy from the wind outside.
behind them is you.
azriel almost feels stupid for the way his heart jumps a little when he sees you, he meets new people every day, he's not supposed to be shy he's supposed to be scary, but he can't help it.
you have the same cold-bitten and wind-ruffled look, and yet, unlike the joy on the other two's faces, you're nervous. terribly so.
his ears feel like they're ringing as he watches elain and lucien get comfortable, your hands still stuck into your pockets and your gaze flickering over the room.
your eyes meet his for a second, just a single second, and you smile, but it's so stunning it stops him from being able to reciprocate it until you've moved on, scanning everyone else before fixing your gaze back on the redhead you arrived with.
he's introducing you, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you into his side, and you chuckle a little as he does.
azriel's skin prickles a little with jealousy. why is it so easy for everyone else to get affection but him? he feels pathetic for even thinking this way.
(Y/N). friend from the autumn court. best friend. the girl who taught him how to heal. sticking around for a while.
he was still processing these words when lucien pushed you forward a little with a hand on your back, your scowl as you stumble, earning a chuckle from everyone else, and a friendly knuckle to the cheek from lucien.
azriel’s gut twists achingly once again.
you go around, you're shaking hands and saying hello, and chatting to everyone, and just before you get to him, elain draws you into a conversation with her sisters. his hand curls into a fist, and he feels like a fucking child all over again.
is he really this worked up over a handshake? a handshake he didn't even get?
phantom feelings of sharp stone under his knees and the whistle of wind between cracks in the cell walls revisit him, when he'd long for the days the healer would come when he was a child to patch up his injuries, because at least the kind old woman who'd tended to him would pat his hair and wipe his cheeks when he cried.
his shadows swirl violently once, twice, as he thinks about it, and he stands before anyone can notice, chugging what's left of his drink and moving to the kitchen to make another.
he's leaning against the counter, staring into his own reflection in the whiskey when you knock at the doorway, forcing him to look up. he settles his usual stone mask over his face, instinct by now, and he raises a brow to prompt you.
"hello. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before. I was worried you'd leave before I could. I'm (Y/N)."
"indeed, I heard." really? that's the best he could come up with? but the kitchen has started to smell faintly like cinnamon and burnt sugar, and his nose scrunches a little at the overly sweet smell, he's not used to anything like it. it makes it hard to think, it's almost dizzying.
you pause on the other side of the island, a small smile coming to your lips, before daring to take another two steps closer, hand stretching out to him. "I'll be sticking around for a while, the high lord thinks you could all use a permanent healer, something about rough play while you're training," the words bring a touch of a smirk to his lips, and your own smile widens when it does. "and I meet the criteria, apparently."
he huffs a bit of a laugh, slipping his own hand into yours, and every buzzing in his ears goes blissfully quiet, every firing nerve settles, and the smile he'd forced becomes genuine when your hand squeezes around his. you shake once, pulling back all too quickly, and he misses the feeling of touch instantly.
"now, elain says you don't like to be touched," wait, no- “so, if you ever want to get together sometime, we can talk about what you’re comfortable with, where your boundaries lie, that sort of thing…”
your words were tapering off, and he realised perhaps he should say something, or do something, or simply react, in any way at all, but he couldn't. because it was just so gut-wrenchingly sweet of you, and he hated it. he didn’t want boundaries. fuck them. destroy them. cross them all. he didn’t care.
he didn’t say that. instead, what he said was, “uh, sure. I’m pretty busy, but I’m sure we could work something out.”
you only nodded, lingering a second longer, and the tension between you both felt like it was stretching on for ages. you were so close, so close, and azriel clenched his hands by his sides once again, trying to fight the telling frown on his face, and the urge to reach out. your hair looked so soft, he’d bet it was, bet it smelled even more sugary, a smell he was rapidly getting used to, and-
and you were walking away, a small smile on your lips, and something deep and unusual within his chest flared a little with panic, and- “wait-”
was that him? azriel really wasn’t sure, he didn’t remember even thinking about making a noise, it just happened, and then- then you turned around, smile still there, a little more genuine this time.
you raised an eyebrow at him this time, prompting him silently the way he had you. he liked it. he smiled back, just a touch.
“I’m sorry.”
“you haven’t done anything to be sorry for, azriel.”
“I’m being rude.” you didn’t respond, and he sighed a little, shoulders relaxing fractionally from the rigid tensing that was beginning to ache a little. “I just have… a lot on my mind. my apologies, for my behaviour. I appreciate your offer.”
“well, physical healer I may be, but mental health is just as important to me. if you ever want to talk, I make a good listener. and, semi-reasonable advice giver.”
he chuckled, a soft sound that he didn’t often make, but merely the way you seemed to perk up a little at his amusement made him want to spend the rest of his life laughing. he didn’t know why.
“I’m not sure how much I can trust that advice, given you are optionally friends with lucien, who truly believes that toast tastes better when it’s a little burned.”
“I didn’t choose him, he chose me. you share your last cookie with the sad little boy at the playground one time, and you get stuck with the seventh in line to the throne for the rest of your life.” there was a fond smile on your lips, and for just as second, azriel revelled in this moment of quiet amusement with you.
then he remembered the same look of amusement on lucien’s face, when he’d had an arm wrapped around you, and playfully shoved you, and knocked your cheek.
and just like that, all the warmth of your conversation was stripped away, a shocking cold like a bucket of water straight from the Sidra on Starfall night tipped over his head. it reminded him just how lonely he was.
“I’d best get going, but, if you come by training with cassian and I, tomorrow morning, I’ll show you around. I assume you’ll be staying at the house of wind?” his heart was beating erratically fast in his chest, one scarred hand smoothing over the spot as it did. he felt breathless, waiting to see whether you’d accept his offer, waiting to see whether you’d reject him. azriel couldn't remember the last time he’d been this nervous.
“I'd like that, very much.”
“until tomorrow, then.”
you murmured something in response, but his heart was beating too fast, his blood rushing too loudly in his ears to be able to make it out. he simply nodded, hoping it would suffice, and left. he must’ve drunk a lot more than he thought.
hours later, when he was laying cold in his bed, his shadows informed him of your arrival. giggling in a somewhat tipsy state, you’d arrived mere seconds before cassian and nesta had landed on the balcony, one hand gripped tightly around lucien’s as he winnowed you in, wobbling slightly in your steps.
your friend had kissed your cheek goodbye, as had elain, even cassian had kissed your knuckles dramatically as nesta rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile of her own.
his bed felt like laying on a slab of ice. alone.
however, exactly one hour and twelve minutes into training, which was exactly thirty-eight minutes after azriel had officially given up on your arrival, you came.
his shadows swirled excitedly, so much so that cassian stuttered a little in his movements as they began to block his sights unintentionally, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and burnt sugar reached his nose once again, flooding the room a moment before you walk in.
he’s distracted, which is ridiculous, he never gets distracted, and he would have chastised himself for it if the blunt side of cassian’s wooden practice sword didn’t do it for him.
azriel’s vision spotted for a second as the wood collided with the side of his skull, teeth rattling, and he hissed out a curse, glare as cold as winter night’s shot at his partner when he began to chuckle.
“something got you all wound up, brother?”
“bite me.”
“not even one whole day and you boys are already putting me to use, huh?”
there was just something about you this morning. azriel really couldn't place it, but you were wearing a smile that made something in his chest clench a little, and as though you could read his thoughts, your hand lifted, rubbing gently over your own chest, over your heart.
“this? this is nothing to worry about, we’ve seen much, much worse.”
you merely rolled your eyes, stepping towards them both and bringing yourself further into the room. you beckoned azriel forward, and he was moving before he even knew what he was doing.
cassian scoffed good-naturedly, turning away to practice his swings against a wooden dummy, and azriel sank down, sitting against the edge of the ring as you came to stand before him. he spread his legs a little, letting you get that little bit closer, and you took it.
he blamed his breathlessness on the intense training he’d just done, not the smell of you overwhelming him like sugary treats and starfall spices.
“really, it’s nothing to worry abou-”
you raked your fingers softly through his damp hair, fingertips gently soothing along his scalp for bumps.
he choked, words dying in his throat on a pathetically breathy exhale that would have embarrassed him had azriel not been feeling pure ecstasy.
your other hand joined it, raking through his hair, pads of your fingers pressing and soothing along his scalp, and azriel’s world went dark. eyes closed, rolling to the back of his head and shoulders sagging a little as you examined for bumps. he almost wished cassian had hit him harder, just so you’d find something.
“is this okay?” your words were murmured, a soft breath for only him to hear, and azriel couldn't even form words;
“mhmm..”
nobody had ever touched him like this, run their fingers through his hair, and when your nails scratched lightly over his scalp before you pulled back, he barely bit back a whine, body feeling like melted butter.
you patted down his hair, he could only imagine the mess it had become, and it took more effort than most battles did for azriel to compose himself. to close the place where his bottom lip had parted from his top to near-pant, to open his eyes and hold them more than a sleepy half-lid, to straighten his shoulders and find some strength in his spine to sit properly. and most of all, to not reach out and beg you to do it again.
the sound of cassian’s grunt as he trained snapped him back into an awkwardly rigid position, jaw tensing a little.
“no bumps or breaks, you’re good to go, shadowsinger.”
“told you so.”
your eyes rolled again, in that gentle and fond way, and he hoped he would see it more. he liked making your eyes roll.
“next time, you need to defend your blind spots better.”
“are you giving me fighting advice?” once again, the smile he gave you was real. two within one day, you were making him break his mask at record speeds. it was concerning, if anything. that was what he chose to call it, anyway.
“you think I don’t know how to fight?”
“I know you don’t know how to fight. I can tell.”
“you can tell? how?”
“you have no grip strength, when you shook my hand last night, no way you could pick up a sword, it would drop right out of your hands. you tripped over your feet on the way over here, and you have zero awareness of your own blindspots.”
you gaped at him, and he couldn't help himself. he lifted a hand, pointer knuckle tucking under your chin to close your dropped jaw, and you huffed at him. his knuckle dragged along your skin for a split second, before dropping away, and he made a fist on his thigh, restricting any more movement. he was being far too needy and indulgent of his desire to touch, lately.
“maybe I didn’t want to hurt you by gripping your hand with my superior grip strength.”
“uh-huh.”
“and maybe I’m just clumsy.”
“I’m not disputing that.”
“and how would you know anything about my blindspots?”
he shrugged, smirking a little at the tendrils of black curling over your shoulders, one of them wrapping neatly around the ends of your hair, pulling them silently off of your shoulders, into a ponytail you had no idea was being formed until the darkness tugged lightly.
you gasped, the shadows skittering away like they were snickering at your shock, and azriel actually bit at the inside of his own cheek to contain his grin.
what was wrong with him lately? maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing there would be a healer around so much, perhaps he needed a check-up.
“alright, fine,” you had a look in your eye, one that he had absolutely no idea what it meant, and for the first time in his life, that confusion seemed to thrill him instead of terrifying him. “then teach me how to fight.”
“why on earth would you want to learn how to fight?”
“well, if I’m going to be out and about playing in the thick of it with you boys when you get yourselves all scratched up, it would probably be useful to know at least a little about defending myself.”
azriel hadn't thought about that. about all the danger he got himself into, about all the danger you’d be getting into. something cold settled in his chest, tight and gripping, making every breath feel a little rough.
he choked that down, too.
“what would I get out of that deal?”
“I’ll heal up all these little injuries, the bothersome ones you always brush off.” he raised a brow, breath pausing in his throat as you reached for him, soft fingers wrapping around his wrist, bringing his clenched hand up. he’d been trying so hard not to touch you, but here you were, touching him.
unwrapping each finger carefully, you smoothed them out, his palm flexing and twitching a little at the featherlight touch you brushed over the scarred flesh.
“like this one, a little paper cut, on the tip of your finger.”
brushing your thumb over the pad lightly, he watched in awe as the tiniest fleck of glowing golden light shone from it for only a second, before the injury he’d made only this morning was gone.
it didn’t bother him, those kinds of wounds may as well not exist at all, that kind of pain was one he was so used to it was a sensation like breathing or walking at this point, but it didn’t matter. he’d take a thousand paper cuts of you’d hold him that softly and fix them that tenderly again and again.
you were offering him a deal, a lot of touches and attention, and he tried not to scream his agreement, and show his enthusiasm too much.
“how’d you know that was there?” he pulled his hand back, your own hovering for a second where you’d held his much larger one, before dropping to your side.
“I sensed it, when I touched you, looking for your head bump, I picked that up instead, it’s the only injury you’ve got. physical, anyway.”
a tense moment of silence followed your words at the implications of your final sentence.
“you’ve got a deal. tomorrow morning we begin. but first, I believe I promised you a tour.”
he stood, putting a reasonable amount of distance between you both. he needed to remember who he was, he needed to remember who he was supposed to be. he couldn't afford to let his own weakness and desire pull at him anymore.
you took the hint, not getting nearly as close to him as you followed him around.
azriel was equal parts relieved and disappointed by it.
for months, the need got worse and worse, the tugging in his chest, the empty loneliness, the phantom feelings of touches he didn’t have.
he expected his urges to touch to go down, blamed it on the cold and the winter, blamed it on all the changes taking place, blamed it on recovering from the war. azriel blamed it on everything he possibly could, hoping it would go away.
every time you trained with him and cassian in the mornings, every book exchange in the library, every weekly checkup that you’d forced them to start doing, it all tortured him, because he was now fixating on every little thing.
except, it didn’t go away. it stuck.
azriel found himself longing more and more for the touches that seemed to be getting less and less frequent. or, perhaps they weren’t, and he was simply needing them more, and he was noticing the lack of them.
he had no idea why your arrival had sent him spiralling downhill, but he was struggling to patch up every crack that was beginning to break in his façade.
even his shadows were struggling, reaching out toward you in every room, searching all corners of it when you weren’t there.
everything just became easier when he started avoiding you entirely.
he skipped a couple of training sessions, an excuse about needing to catch up on work, and you didn’t question it.
he took meals in his bedroom, or after he was sure you’d already eaten, just to avoid you at the table.
he hid every cut and wound, and for the first couple of weeks, you berated him playfully, joking that he should have come and found you to fix them. it took everything he had not to smile, to respond, to prolong these sessions where your fingers were skim gently over his skin, shimmering gold sealing up small cuts and all the bruises, fixing every ache.
after a while, you just stopped. every near-silent check-up or barely-friendly greeting when you saw one another making something cold fill his chest.
but at least that sharp coldness within him was better than feeling completely empty.
it had been almost a full year when your first chance to truly go away with them arose. the air was cold enough that your breath clouded in the sky, snow was sticking to the ground, and there was a permanent layer of ice settled over the top of the Sidra.
it should have been easy, and yet everything that could have gone wrong, did.
the meagre forces of you, himself, cassian and nesta hadn't been nearly enough.
you were terrified, azriel was in and out of consciousness, being half-dragged along through the snowstorm by cassian, who winced every time he put their joint weight on his right foot, and nesta was clutching at her side.
there was blood clotted into your hair from a cut along your forehead, a bruise blossoming on your ribs and you were sure an arrow had caught you across your thigh, but it was so cold, you could barely feel any part of your body anymore.
flying out wasn’t an option, your only teammate who could winnow had been out-cold for nearly an hour, and the inn had been a blessed relief when it had finally come into view.
the patron hadn't even flinched when the four of you had stumbled up to the counter and demanded three rooms, blood dripping onto the floor between you all, snow and mud trekked up the stairs with keys clutched in hand.
“cass, start a fire, nesta, go get as many bowls of snow as you can.”
they did as told, and you began to peel back the layers of protective leather and armour azriel wore, laying haphazardly on the bed where cassian had left him as they scurried.
blood was smeared across skin that had gone pale, and bile rose in the back of your throat as you took in the wounds before you. they were like nothing you’d ever seen.
stripping off the top layer of his leathers, they made a sickeningly wet sound as they hit the wooden floorboards, blood spilling out around your feet in a puddle, soaking into the bedsheets that would never be truly clean again.
cassian hissed as he returned.
nesta’s hands shook as she began placing bowls of snow into the fire to heat.
neither could stomach staying as you began to stitch up the wounds.
over six hours later, azriel was healed and you’d seen to nesta’s cracked ribs, your attention moving to the final warrior who needed help, and ignoring the painful drag of every footstep you took to follow him.
cassian was laying a patched-up azriel onto the bed in the spare room, jaw clenched so tight you thought his teeth would crack.
“let me look at your ankle, cass.”
you sunk down onto the edge of the bed patting the space next to you once his arms were free of his friend, and he shook his head.
“it’s fine, nothing to worry about.”
“let me look.”
“no.”
“cassian, let me look at your ankle, gods dammit!”
silence filled the room around you both, and for a second you worried your yell would wake nesta, sleeping only on the other side of the wall.
he set himself down, lifting his leg up, and placing his ankle into your lap.
swollen shades of yellow and purple and blue, his ankle had swollen up so wide it was almost the thickness of the rest of his leg, and when you pressed it, his entire body trembled.
“s’gonna hurt a little bit, but only for a second.”
“what about you?”
“what about me?” you mumbled, fingers smoothing over his skin, a soft glow emitting from your hands as you worked.
cassian groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you began to repair the damage.
“I can tell you’re spent. I came to check on you, when you were healing az. you didn’t look so good. does rhysand know what healing does to you? does lucien? does anyone?”
your motions paused, only for a split second, before you were soothing over his skin, hands tightening around him as the swelling began to go down.
“they know. it’s just, I’ve never had to heal something this big before, he was practically dead. but, I’m fine. really. keeping him alive long enough to get here took a lot out of me, but it’s over now.”
‘fine’ was the best you could do. ‘fine’ was a grievous exaggeration, but cassian didn’t need to know that.
your head was pounding so hard you saw spots, your hands were shaking so violently that when they were no longer on cassian’s leg, you sat on them to hide the tremor. you’d sat down to heal cassian’s ankle because you’d nearly collapsed trying to follow him in here, legs giving way underneath you.
“you’re all done.”
he stood, testing his weight on his foot, letting out the same huff of amusement he always did when you healed him up so fast, no matter how many times you’d done it.
“where are you going to sleep? not in the other room, I suspect.”
your nose wrinkled up, the metallic smell of azriel’s blood was still so heavy you were surprised it wasn’t leaking through the walls, the fire in that room still burning from the ruined sheets you’d tossed in to dispose of.
something, something had lurched while you’d been tending to him as cassian and nesta fussed, and the idea of going back into a room where you’d fought just to keep him alive made your head spin.
“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on azriel. if he makes it through the night, he’ll be fine.”
the truth was, you were nowhere near done. just because you’d stabilised azriel didn’t mean your job was over. it just took a little pressure off the clock. his skin was still too clammy, a fever fighting high, his heart rate was too weak and his skin still too pale. he was a long, long way from mended.
cassian looked dubious, sleep was crawling at the edge of his consciousness, you could tell from the way he swayed on where he stood, shoulders hunched and eyes drooping.
“besides, we’re safer in pairs. go and be with nesta, I’ll be here, we’ll meet up in the morning.”
he finally gave in, the mention of his mate making his head snap to look at the wall she lay on the other side of, like she’d tugged subconsciously to convince him to do as told. you wouldn't be surprised if she had.
the door closed behind him, and you were left in a cold, dark room, with only azriel’s rattling, wet breaths to let you know you weren’t alone.
you used what little strength you had left to make a fire, tugging the sheets out from underneath azriel and hanging them before the hearth to warm, before sealing them around his body.
you stripped off what you could of your own bloody leathers, washing both sets with cold water in the empty dishes of snow you had left, before hanging those, too, up to warm and dry.
settling in beside him, pain like you’d never known flared throughout your entire body as you called on your gift once again.
settling a hand on an unconscious azriel’s shoulder, your eyes closed, beginning to search through for every internal wound, stitching nerves and muscles back together one by one.
you were sweating, but freezing cold, throat raw and eyes stinging but no tears left to give as you gasped for breath.
you kept the fire going, his fever broke, and at some point during the night, azriel began to regain his strength.
he never woke, but you weren't aware you had dozed off yourself beside him until you were startled back awake.
he had rolled over, shuffled weakly across the bed until one arm had slung its way over your waist, cheek pressing into your shoulder, the cool tip of his nose was pressed into your neck.
he was still cold, no matter how many times you restocked the fire to keep it going, searching out for your body heat without realising it.
you lay still for a while, to see if he would wake, but he didn’t.
instead, you fastened an arm around his shoulders, the other threading lightly into sweat-soaked hair, still damp from where you’d tried to clean him up, soothing him lightly.
you used what strength you had left to make sure he stayed in a deep sleep, pain-free and unaware.
nesta was the one who woke you in the morning, looking a lot better than she had when going to sleep the night before, and you panicked a little as you stretched out to find yourself alone.
“good sleep, huh? I’ve been trying to wake you for five whole minutes.”
“where’s azriel? cassian?”
her eyes rolled, but you’d learned her tells, knowing all of it was in love, not hate. “they’re downstairs, paying extra for the ruined sheets and the rooms. storm cleared, we’re ready to go home, so get up and get dressed.”
you shifted, arms barely able to pull yourself up, and nesta’s eyes narrowed a little as you lay back down.
“can’t I have five more minutes? I was having a good dream.”
“you can sleep in your own bed when we get out of this godawful inn and back to velaris.”
“fine, I suppose you’re right. I’ll meet you downstairs in five minutes.”
she left, and five minutes was more like fifteen as you struggled to even stand up, never mind get dressed, and finally, make your way downstairs to meet them at the entry of the inn.
“‘bout time, I’m waiting on you to get home for a good meal.”
“my apologies, queen nesta.” she grinned, and your gaze moved to the other two. cassian was studying you, gaze flicking to your hairline, and you lifted your fingers to touch the sensitive skin there, still raw, the cut you had forgone to patch up even last night. your sharp glare kept him silent about it.
“the flight shouldn’t take long, and the skies are nice and clear now. we’ll be back in time for lunch.” to emphasise his point, cassian’s stomach rumbled, loudly.
he took off first, shooting up into the sky with nesta and leaving you standing in tense silence with azriel.
“az, how are you feeling?”
“fine.” he almost growled the word out, and your brows furrowed.
he hated doing this to you, the look of hurt that had flickered across your face, but he had to. pushing people away, keeping them out, he was good at that, he was used to it, and it made everything easier.
letting you in, it was far too painful, you would see every raw and damaged and broken part of him, and he wasn’t ready to face that.
when he’d woken up wrapped in your arms that morning, for a shocking second, azriel had felt at peace. for the very first time in his life, he had felt utterly content. like he didn’t regret anything, like he didn’t want anything to change, like he didn’t want a distraction.
and it had terrified him so much that he thought he might be sick.
“you’re a sleep cuddler.” apparently so. you were trying so hard to lighten the mood, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into that, but he couldn't. he choked back the lump in his throat, gaze flickering to the sky for a second, avoiding your gaze.
“I trust that won’t happen again.”
you went unnaturally still, gaze turning sharp on him as you stared, and he still couldn't bring himself to meet your eye.
“that’s all you have to say? that’s it? I heal you up, I take care of you, an-”
“that is your job, is it not?”
the laugh you gave him was cold and harsh. it made him feel like his chest was closing up, freezing over from the inside out.
“right. yes. my job. well, we should get going, I’m rather tired.”
he’d pushed it too far, too far too far too far, his shadows were almost biting at him as they whipped around his body, chastising him for his behaviour, his tone, his every decision.
“(Y/N)-”
“message received, azriel, loud and clear. I want to go home now, please.”
look up look up look up, meet his eye now, he was ready, he wanted you to. you wouldn't. you stepped closer, allowing him to pick you up, before soaring into the sky.
it was one of the worst flights of his life, and tense few hours, the silence azriel normally revelled in felt like it was suffocating him. he could feel the warmth of your magic, even now, swirling around you both to block out the chill until you were landing on the balcony, only moments behind cassian and nesta.
the rest were lined up, waiting for your return, welcoming you back with hugs and shoulder pats, and a table full of food waiting.
hurt.
azriel felt it as his shadows reappeared, catching up to him as he tucked his wings into his back, letting you down slowly.
hurt.
who? his gaze flickered over everyone that was lined up, scanning his friends for injuries.
hurt. hurt. hurt.
you stumbled, knees buckling, and had you not been standing so close to him when you did, you’d have hit the floor before azriel had caught you.
his shadows swarmed around you, until you were barely visible to the rest, and you sank slowly to the ground, letting azriel help you.
hurthurthurthurth-
his shadows recoiled as the heir of day stepped forward, dropping harshly to his knees to cup your face. your skin had paled, your eyes fluttering more closed than open, and your lips were parted with shallow breaths.
“what happened?”
“m’jus’ a little tired, that’s all.”
lucien smoothed a hand over your hair, letting you slump forward until your face was pressed against his shoulder, one hand clutching weakly at his shirt.
“you’re freezing, and you’re so shaky, why can’t you-” he paused, the hand petting your hair moving to rest over your forehead as he searched for something. “you burned out.”
“I’m fine. I just need some sleep.”
“you’re not just-”
“lucien, please.”
he stared, waiting a second, before the air around you both folded, and the space at azriel’s feet was empty. his shadows exploded, a representation of his own panic, before feeding back to him a second later that lucien had laid you in your bed.
“what was that?”
“she did too much,” cassian mumbled, hands wringing in front of himself, and rhysand rubbed his brow.
“how bad was it?”
“bad.”
“what. happened?”
he was ignored as cassian shrugged at their high lord, unsure where to start.
“we got caught off-guard, more of them than we could possibly handle. ness got hit first, az covered her, but it was too much. he- it was bad. I’ve seen soldiers die from a lot less. he would have died. but she held him together. I don’t know how, she just did. enough to make it to an inn, she fixed us up. stayed up with az the whole time, I could hear her moving around all night. I knew she was drained but I didn’t know it was this bad, if I did, I would have.. I would have.. done something. I wouldn't have let her help me too, I would have-”
cassian cleared his throat, walking away with a nod and a promise to debrief rhysand later. nesta followed.
“you knew this would happen? you knew she could burn out, that it would be this bad? you knew, and-”
“I knew, because she told me. she acknowledged the risks, she made the decision. she chose to look after you, she chose her own actions. she looks after us, and now we will look after her.”
his tone was final, and azriel’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
they left, one by one, they all left him on the balcony alone, to tend to the rest of their duties.
you’d pushed yourself to the brink for him, through agony and worse, and he couldn't even bring himself to crack open a little of the box inside his mind he worked so hard to keep sealed shut.
that was the moment azriel decided it was going to have or change.
you didn’t wake for two days. two full days azriel spent swimming in guilt and sadness, a feeling he couldn't place filling his every thought, making it hard to eat, or sleep, or even think.
he felt.. nothing. absolutely nothing.
two days, and on the evening of the third day, while everyone was sitting at the dinner table chatting, and azriel was emptily pushing perfectly good chicken and vegetables around his plate, you emerged.
“hello.”
azriel felt like his heart started back up in his chest.
“can you spare a plate? I’m fucking starving.”
lucien laughed, his head dropping for a second as elain grinned, patting the seat next to her that had been empty for days, the one opposite him, that had been taunting him.
slipping into it, cassian was quick to pile you up a plate, with more food than you could possibly eat, passing it along down the lines as you sunk into the chair next to him.
accepting the food, you settled back into everything like nothing had been wrong, like you hadn't scared azriel half to death, like you hadn't left him feeling adrift, untethered, lost, and he needed to talk to you, needed to make it right-
his stomach rumbled, clenching almost painfully. finally, he thought. he was fucking starving.
he would talk to you after he’d eaten.
the first chance to approach you came when you were sitting out on the balcony, still a little pale, still a little shaky, with a thick blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you stared up at the sky.
he sat down next to you, silently, trying to find as much comfort in the stars as you had, but his thoughts were spinning too fast. in the darkness, he let his shadows free a little, let them crawl underneath your chair, over the back, around your feet where you couldn't see.
“the skies never look quite like this in autumn. I like it here.” your words were steady and calm, nothing like his heart, and azriel twisted his head to look at you. you were not looking at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“you have nothing to be sorry for, azriel."
he felt like he was living everything over again, you were strangers once again, and that thought made every other one freeze inside of his head, a spotlight focus on that.
“please, don’t shut me out.”
you looked at him now, studying him like a journal, brows furrowing a little.
“I never shut you out, azriel. you are the one who shut me out. you made it very clear that you didn’t want my touch, nor my friendship, nor even my company. it’s okay, I don’t expect everyone to always want my companionship, but next time, at least a ‘thank you’ for saving your life would be nice.”
“thank you.” the words tumbled from him like water spilling from the sky when a storm broke. “thank you, for all of it. for staying up to make sure I made it through the night, and for.. for caring.”
you help his gaze, nodding once. “you’re welcome.”
you looked back to the sky, ignorant to the shadows crawling higher and higher up, languidly, begging him to let them curl around you, still fearing for your wellbeing.
“I like to be touched,”
he spoke the words without breathing, without looking at you, still staring at the stars, even as he felt your attention move to him. it felt like a weight being lifted off of his chest, but it was terrifying, a confession spoken now that he could never take back.
“I like to be touched. I love being touched, but it’s not who I am. I am not supposed to be.. soft. I’m supposed to be strong, and powerful, and it terrifies me that I can be so- that I need it. I love being touched, but I can’t ask. They can’t know. I can never tell them.”
you didn’t ask who they were, and you didn’t ask why. somehow, he knew that you just understood.
“you scare me. you scare me more than anything, because for all of my life I’ve been just fine, centuries suppressing this need and managing it all, and then one year ago you come along, and everything changed, and I don’t know why.” the more he spoke, the lighter he felt, some deep and suffocating binding was finally loosening within him.
“perhaps 500 years of pretending not to need attention, not to need love, has finally started to take its toll.”
you were right, he knew you were, but it was still a hard truth to swallow.
“you know, we all have our love languages.”
“our what?”
“love languages.” there was a soft smile on your face when he finally braved looking at you, and it made him feel secure, like his confessions were in safe hands, like for once, he didn’t have to carry every burden on his own. “there’s five.”
“five?”
“yes.” you twisted a little more toward him. “rhys and feyre, they’re the same. they just want to provide for the people they love. perhaps it’s why it’s so easy for them to love one another. both of their love languages are similar. rhys’.. his is gift giving. he shows you all his love through what he can give you, buy you. he houses you all, spoils you constantly, makes sure you are always provided for. he does it sneakily, like buying cassian’s favourite cookies or making sure there are always fresh flowers for elain.”
“what about feyre?”
“hers is acts of service. she spent years providing for her family, she went through hell for tamlin, and then through war for rhys. she was willing to give everything for them all, she continues to do so. elain, hers is quality time. when lucien began inviting her to the spring court, they used to do nothing but sit or walk in silence for hours in the gardens. or in the living room, when he’d read while she learned to knit.”
“what about nesta? she doesn’t fit any of those boxes.”
“no, she doesn’t.” whether you’d noticed them or not, you didn’t say, but azriel’s shadows were beginning to crawl up and over you, weaving around you in lazy swirls as you whispered quietly between yourselves, to the background noise of your friends in the house. “nesta’s love language is words of affirmation.”
he didn’t need to question it, that made perfect sense.
“yours is touch. everyone has a love language, azriel, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. it’s simply who you are.”
somehow, you made him feel alright with something he’d spent 500 years hating about himself.
“what is yours?”
“technically, I don’t actually need to touch anyone, to heal them. I just have to be close enough to feel their energies.” he processed the words, heart skipping a beat a little at the meaning. you were the same as him. “just think about it all.”
you stood, taking the blanket from your shoulders and leaving it folded over the back of the chair you were leaving behind.
as you walked past, you paused, placing a hand on his shoulder, and shadows rose, wrapping like bracelets around your wrist as you squeezed lightly. “if you can’t tell them yet, that's okay. but if you ever need someone, you can come and find me. you’re hurting, az, and it’s my job to keep you all in one piece. if holding you when you need it is something you want, then you know where to find me.”
he couldn't speak, only nod, because he wasn’t sure he could get any words out around the lump in his throat.
you left, leaving his head somehow both spinning and utterly empty.
he waited, mulling over your words, whispering them to himself in the dark, until it became too cold to be comfortable, anymore.
almost everyone had retired, only cassian, mor and amren still awake, drinking quietly in front of the fire, but he didn’t feel like joining them.
no, he knew where he truly wanted to be.
the clock read over two hours since you’d left him, you’d surely be asleep by now, and azriel tried to pretend like it wasn’t disappointment filling him. stop being needy.
he was making his way to his own bedroom, taking the long route, when he passed your door. light was still spilling out from underneath it, golden glow from the crack between it and the floor, and azriel felt like his feet were rooted to the ground.
he could feel his heartbeat, right down to his fingers, and he clenched them into a fist to stop it.
he knocked. he knocked, he didn’t know what possessed him to do so, and maybe it wasn’t too late to just leave, but then there you were;
standing before him, pretty nightgown and a cardigan, hair a little ruffed from the loose way you’d fastened it back, and you didn’t look at all surprised to see him.
“az. would you like to come in?”
“more than anything, actually.” he breathed the words weakly, no longer having any embarrassment left to give, and he stepped over the threshold, letting you close the door.
your fire was lit, logs crackling quietly, but he couldn't smell them, instead, he could smell the candle you had, winter spices and berries, a sweet combination, but not as sweet as your smell. your sheets were tossed askew, clearly having been used, and a book lay on the bed, page marked.
“can I..?”
you raised a brow, but he didn’t know exactly how to word what he wanted, he wanted so much, he didn’t know where to start.
“do you want to lay with me while I read?”
“you mean, like we did that night?”
“if you want.”
he felt young again, no strain and stress on his shoulders, just bashful and a little shy, watching as you walked back to your bed, getting comfy once again. you patted the sheets, prompting him to move, and he did.
slowly, so slowly, azriel removed one boot at a time, placing them neatly in a pair at the end of your bed. then his belt, and his jacket, undoing every clasp and buckle slowly, until he was merely left in the comfortable trousers he’d worn to dinner, and his t-shirt.
one knee on the edge of the bed, and then the other, nervous but pushing on as azriel all but catapulted himself over a line he’d never considered crossing before. you lifted the blanket, welcoming him under, and he lay himself down slowly.
shuffling a little closer, he hesitated, close enough to feel every bit of warmth you gave off, but not touching a single part of you.
“I-.. I’m scared.”
“you don’t ever have to be scared with me, azriel. my job is to heal you, let me do that.” you spread your arms for him, and he gave in, the last shred of resistance obliterated.
he collapsed down by your side, cheek pressing into your shoulder, nose brushing that spot, that spot on your neck that smelt so damn sweet, every bit of you. his front was pressed up along your side, the arm curled around his shoulder, fingers threading into his hair, and he didn’t realise how much he needed it until the sigh he let out shook.
and then his shoulders did.
his chest.
he didn’t realise he was crying until three or four breaths in.
he felt frozen, body locked up as he sobbed, unable to help himself, your fingers weaving through his hair, giving him privacy even as he lay atop you, reading quietly and flicking each page every so often.
he cried until it felt like that well of emotion inside of him that he spent so long locking up no longer felt like it was about to overflow. it was manageable, truly kept in place, for once.
he dared to reach out, to hold you back like you held him, one arm over your waist, anchoring you down, making sure you were real, you weren’t going to leave.
and you let him.
every breath he took tasted sweet on his tongue, like roasted marshmallows, and the last thing azriel truly remembered before everything went black was the feeling of your other arm reaching over, hand placed atop his scarred one on your stomach, squeezing lightly.
when azriel woke, he panicked. this wasn’t his bed, his room, and there was someone here, someone holding him, someone-
it all came back. he shifted, pulling his face from where it still lay on your shoulder, one limp hand woven into his hair, falling away when he looked up to you, still asleep. your breaths were even. as he pulled back some more, you shifted, following his warmth the way he had subconsciously done to you. it sparked something in his chest, heart pinching a little.
there was no way he could move now.
he lay back down, rolling onto his side, and pulling you softly back toward him. you went, sleepily, curling up against him. dawn had broken, he was supposed to be training, cassian would be there already, and yet not a single part of him was willing to move, not even his shadows, which were spilling like lazy waterfalls over the bedsheets surrounding you both, hardly any movement at all.
it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. euphoria.
when you woke, it was with a little jump, like you were caught off-guard as much as he was.
you stretched somewhat, and azriel slackened the arm he’d been using to hold you close, but you didn’t pull away.
instead, you rolled over a little more onto your back, but shuffled close to him, using his arm like a pillow as you blinked to adjust to the morning sun.
“you stayed.”
“is that okay?”
“it was lovely. I haven’t slept that well in ages.”
“I haven’t slept that well ever.”
azriel had hoped that by the morning, he’d have found some control over his filter again when he was around you. it would seem that hope was ill-founded.
you gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your heart, a teasing look in your eyes as you looked at him. “I am truly honoured. like a dreamcatcher, obviously, I’m just the very best cuddl-”
he rolled his eyes, and didn’t bother to hide the smile on his face. he’d exposed one of his deepest secrets to you, everything else felt so small now in comparison. he cut you off by squeezing you tightly, rolling his arm up behind your head and clamping a hand over your mouth.
eventually, the two of you had gotten up, and he’d parted ways with you at the bedroom door to change his clothes before meeting everyone for breakfast.
but, like a bucket of cold water, the high he’d been floating on came crashing down when he walked into the dining room.
you were already sitting at the table, buttering a piece of toast as mor piled more onto your plate, insistent on getting three days worth of missed food into you as he sat down.
“where exactly were you this morning, brother? you missed training entirely. the girls teamed up on me, do you know how unfair that was? three against one, azriel!”
he froze a little, halfway into his seat, eyes flicking to the warlords, before he sat properly.
“I was sleeping.”
“sleeping?”
“yes. you know, that thing where you close your eyes, and go unconscious for extended periods of time in order to-”
“shut up, you know what I meant.” he remained staring, like he was trying to work azriel out, and you chuckled at them both.
“cass, your mother hen is showing.” the man scoffed, turning his scrutiny to you instead, and azriel loosed a breath with appreciation. he wasn’t ready yet, to tell everyone else what he’d managed to tell you. he may never be ready, but he already felt lighter having let just one person in.
something bumped his ankle, and dropping his gaze down to below the table, he caught your foot reaching out, slippered toes kicking lightly at his ankle. he shifted forward in his seat, tucking himself underneath properly, and your fluffy foot wrapped around his ankle lightly.
his head spun.
right here, in his everyday life, someone was touching azriel just for the sake of touching him.
he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else yet, and you were accommodating him.
he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this, and one day, he was sure it would all come crashing down, but at least for now, he decided he would just enjoy it.
and so, it continued just like that.
you would touch az any chance you got, subtle, enough to go undetected, but enough that everything inside of azriel was practically singing with joy, all times of the day.
you’d place a hand on his shoulder when you stood beside him while he sat down, you’d link your foot with his when you sat at the table, you’d move him with your hands, this way or that way. you’d grab onto him, drag him around when he was late for his checkups because he got caught up in work. you’d poke him, and jab him when he teased you, and you’d pinch his cheeks until he swatted you away when you teased him back.
and most of all, you let him keep up his façade, rolling his eyes and huffing and pushing you away lightly, without ever pulling back from him.
more and more nights as it went on, he ended up in your bed at night, reading beside you quietly as his leg lay pressed up to yours, or your head slumped onto his shoulder when you got tired before he did.
it was months before azriel had the nerve to touch you in front of everyone without reason.
he was frustrated. he was angry and worn out, and he’d been gone for days when he finally saw his family again. five days of poor sleep, lonely days, and exhausting work trying to gather information.
he wanted to be held, he wanted nothing more than to collapse back into the lifestyle he’d become so used to already, in such a short amount of time.
you were there, sitting on one of the couches, spread out along it as everyone chatted, wine passed around. the volume hit zero as he hovered in the doorway for just a second.
“az, you’re back! how was it?”
“shit.”
“did you get it done?”
“of course.”
“good. join us. do you want a drink?”
he swallowed, throat dry, only nodding instead. but, that wasn’t really what he wanted. he was frozen in spot, and everyone was staring at him now. silence. but he was staring at you.
you sat up a little further, blissed-out look passing from your face, your back straightened. your eyes passed over him, once, twice, before meeting his gaze again.
“az, are you hurt?”
it felt like he had to force the word out, heart pounding in his ears as he considered every consequence of what he was about to do, every truth he was about to lay bare. he could pretend, he could say he was hurt, he knew you’d fake it for him. or, he could finally face the thing that terrified him.
he didn’t care, not anymore.
“no.”
at long last, his feet were moving again, and he strode across the room. kicking his boots off roughly and leaving them abandoned on the floor by the couch, next to wear your heels lay. you must have been out for drinks with mor and the others, everyone seeming a little dressed up.
he stripped off the leather jacket next, dropping it down onto the floor.
he sank, ass hitting the cushions, twisting, until he could lay down, the back of his head landing softly on your thighs.
he closed his eyes, he didn’t want to see everyone's faces, he just wanted to feel you.
rhys cleared his throat, breaking the tension that had lasted well over ten-seconds already.
“well, then. wine or whiskey, az?”
“whiskey, three fingers.”
“you got it.”
you threaded your fingers into his hair, and az let loose the rumble from his chest that he always had when you played with his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.
you shifted underneath him, stretching one leg out along the couch behind him, shifting so his head lay on your stomach instead, resting between your legs comfily.
“so, it all went according to plan?” feyre was next, an overly high lilt to her voice, as rhys tinkered at the drinks cabinet in the corner.
“no, no, no, hang on. we’re all just going to avoid t- ow, nes!” a resounding thud cut him off, and azriel smirked as he heard cassian rubbing at what he assumed was the back of his head.
“everything went fine, just glad to be back. that’s all.”
“yeah, bet you are.” cassian grumbled, and your stomach shook under azriel’s head as you laughed.
rhys pat his shoulder, and he finally cracked his eyes back open, accepted the drink that was being offered. he took it, nodding a ‘thank you’, and his high lord’s eyes sparkled a little as he looked at the pair of you.
sitting up, he tried to fight the warmth coming to his cheeks, the one reaction he couldn't contain no matter how hard he tried, and he covered it by taking a long swig of the burnt amber liquid inside.
“we were just talking about cassian’s most embarrassing encounter at rita’s.”
“what?! no, we were not!”
“no, no, I distinctly remember that's the conversation we were having.” rhysand backed you up, winking at the change in topic of conversation, and feyre nodded her support. “wasn’t it around the 300 years mark, just after the summer solstice..”
cassian’s face blanched, nesta perked up, as did elain and feyre, and both mor and rhys chuckled into their drinks.
his brother was now forced to retell this story for you four, and azriel felt a single claw tap three neat times at the inside of his mind. after a moment of hesitation, he let rhys in. let him see it. let him feel it, the way you made him feel.
his other brother only nodded, pulling back, smiling as he wrapped an arm around his mate, pulling her into his side to focus on the story.
for the first time ever, as azriel watched it and wished he had that too, he could act. he reached for you, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you closer to his chest. you went willingly, leaning your head on his shoulder as you giggled, thoroughly invested in cassian’s story.
he ran his nose over the crown of your head, smiling into your hair when you relaxed even further into him.
he’d never felt so settled.
that night, when you lay in bed, and he let himself into your room, the energy felt different.
he collapsed down beside you, flopping onto his stomach, pulling a pillow under his head and reaching an arm out across your waist as you chuckled.
“big step you took tonight.”
“I was sick of everyone else getting what they wanted, and never taking what I want.”
“I’m proud of you.”
his eyes snapped open, finding you instantly, and he stared at you for a second, eyes narrowing, and you never flinched away.
“what?”
“I'm proud of you. you faced a fear you’ve held for, what, almost five centuries? you should be proud of yourself, too.”
he only nodded, discarding the pillow and moving over to you, no longer feeling even an inkling of nerves as he collapsed down onto your pillow with you, noses mere centimetres apart, legs tangling together as he searched for your touch, as he always did nowadays.
you lifted a hand, placing it on his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone delicately. “you deserve good things, az. let yourself ask for them, let yourself take them.”
he was rendered completely breathless, heart racing so fast it felt like it stopped, and all he could do was smile.
in that moment, when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, giggling as you pulled back to blow out the final candle lighting the room, he felt his heart actually stop.
in that moment, azriel knew he was completely, totally and undeniably fucked.
after that night, a line had been crossed.
he crossed it, he made the first move, edging forward into something entirely unknown. azriel was used to suppressing his feelings, he never confronted them. and yet, not, he was not only acknowledging them, he was acting on them, using them.
he woke up before you the following morning, as he always did, content to lie in once again, ignoring his training with cassian once again. cass was surely going to get sick of this, but he didn’t care.
you, however, had different plans. you woke moments after him, jerking awake with a sudden jump, one hand coming up to your head.
you merely groaned, leaving his arms to sit up straight in bed, covers pooling around your lap and his.
“what’s wrong, angel?”
“I realised I’m late for- what?” a pink tinge touched your cheeks, and you turned, glancing at him over your shoulder. lips parted in a pretty way, eyes wide and vulnerable, and he lifted one arm, propping it behind his head and grinning like it hadn't been intentional.
“I said, ‘what’s wrong, angel’?”
the colour on your cheeks deepened, and you swallowed, several times, before licking over your lower lip and dropping your gaze.
“cassian. uh, well, training. uhm, training, with cassian. I’m late. for it. for training with cassian.”
his smile stretched as you stumbled over your words when his gaze fixed on you, trailing slowly over you in the morning light.
azriel really was grateful for the blocks you were removing from his mind, every wall you took down allowed him to realise something new, and the wall you’d removed last night allowed him to truly witness just how beautiful you were. and just how affected he was by it.
you were breathtaking, messy hair and wide eyes, shrouded by the golden light of the morning, and wreathed in twisting shadows as they wrapped around you, weaving through your hair, tickling your cheeks, teasing you.
he couldn't even begin to have imagined such a sight. ethereal.
“well, then, you’d better get going.” he showed no signs of moving, pulling your covers back up his body somewhat, and you gaped at him.
“you- you’re staying here? in my bed? you’re not- you’ve not got things to do?”
“I have nothing else to do, and I’m comfy. I’ll probably still be here when you get back.”
“I- uh, okay.”
“unless you’d rather me come to training? we could work on your takedowns.”
“wait, whats wrong with my takedowns? I took down nesta, and gwyn!"
“and until you can take down me and cass, I’m not secure in your safety.”
you huffed at him, but there was a playful smile on your face, telling him you weren’t really mad, and he reached out, placing a hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. your gaze tracked the movement.
“so, will you come?” he raised a brow at you, and you gasped a little at the innuendo he’d turned it into. “to training! will you come to training?”
“I suppose so.” he sat up, stretching his arms over his head, and his shadows told him of the way you bit your lower lip, gaze flicking over his chest and arms, before snapping away to stare pointedly at the door before he caught you. “I’ll go and put on my leathers. I’ll meet you there, angel.”
rolling from the bed and flexing out the numbness from his wings, he leaned back over, one hand on the mattress beside you, one on your hip, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and pulling back.
“see you soon.”
he was practically breathless by the time he reached the corridor, closing the door behind himself, shoes in hand.
on the way to his own bedroom, he crossed rhysand, who was passing to his office, coffee mug raised halfway to his lips, and his brows shot up. “alright, brother?”
“more than alright.”
“want to tell me about it?”
“not yet.”
“in that case, good luck.”
az grinned, continuing on his way through the house to prepare himself for training.
and just like that, azriel’s favourite new hobby began; teasing you. seeing just how much he could make you blush, how far he could go, whether you felt the same way.
lingering hands that slipped a little lower than needed when you trained, stares that he knew were more than suggestive, winks to accompany jokes that pressed well beyond that of friendship.
now that he had decided to be truthful with friends, he couldn't keep his hands to himself, he wasn’t sure how he ever did.
azriel liked to sit next to you, bury his face in your neck or hair, keep you tugged in close to his side. his arm lived permanently over the back of whatever seat you were on, and he always sat next to you, tucking hair away behind your ears, rubbing your back gently when you got sleepy, and holding you close to his chest every night when you slept.
he simply couldn't get enough.
after a few weeks, you’d stopped blushing and being as shocked. you’d caught onto his little game, he suspected, because you had begun making a habit of teasing him back.
you would kiss every cut and scrape and wound that he got once you’d fixed him up, lips teasing over the bandages as he pouted about it falsely.
you’d started to make him work for it, to always find someway to squirm or shuffle, to tease him with the possibility of leaving just so he’d have to grip a little tighter.
you’d taken to playing with his hands, running a the pad of your index over each finger and around his palm, featherlight touches that made him twitch.
and he loved it. every second of it, he loved it.
whenever he could get his hands on you, your hands on him, any part of his body touching you.
and when you weren’t there, his family had gotten more affectionate too.
cassian gave him a hug every single time he saw him, and it was almost the fifth hug before azriel stopped feeling the lump form in his throat.
rhys had taken to patting his back and shoulders every chance he got while feyre had taken to squeezing his hands and arms. mor would ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks. he loved all of that, too.
but he didn’t love any of it as much as he loved your touch.
and so, the morning when azriel finally lay the last piece of his soul bare to you had felt so utterly normal.
he’d been in your bed that night, his legs were still tangled with yours in the early morning golden sun, noses almost touching as you shared a pillow, and just whispered about everything. his hand was tucked under your shirt to run over your skin lightly as your fingers played with his hair.
it had been utterly perfect.
he’d told you about his mother, and the childhood he’d been locked away, and the healer who would be his only form of touch for years as she fixed him up after his brothers or step-father hurt him.
he let you into that final piece of himself, and you’d made it beautiful, just like the rest.
and so, when he'd leaned forwards, catching your lips with his own in a delicate meeting, it had felt so right. not heart-racing, not anxiety-inducing, not new and terrifying and bold. no, it had felt like coming home.
and that terrified him.
it terrified him more so when he felt his chest hum, felt his heart skip a beat and the snap that made his breath rush from him. he felt it, felt a bond form, felt the bond form. he was scared.
he could feel his heart speeding up, his thoughts spinning, every mind-stilling technique he’d mastered over the years seemed to go out the window and azriel felt himself gaping at you in shock.
you were frowning at him now, and he could vaguely feel the touch of your fingers slip down from his hair to sit on his cheek, thumb stroking over his face, and every swipe felt like fire over his skin as his nerves electrified.
“not exactly the reaction you want to a mate bond.”
you were smiling, joking, and the breath once again felt pressed from him. this time, every muscle locked up, he went so still he felt like even the blood in his veins had stopped moving.
“you knew?”
a whirlwind of emotions whipping through him; confusion, anger, sadness, frail grief even as he pulled away from your touch on his face.
he pushed himself to sit up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed, and the sound of your sigh made irritation bubble within him as he processed it.
rubbing a hand over his face, he sighed, goosebumps lining his bare chest, all the way down to the boxers shorts he’s stripped down to sleep in.
then, there was a burst of concern in his chest, dizzying and disorientating for a moment before he realised it wasn’t his. it was yours, from the bond.
he snapped up walls around it, much the same feeling as the walls in his mind with rhysand, and just like that, soothing cold like his shadows took over where hot love and concern had once been.
he stood, trying not to take in the hurt on your face as he closed his end of the bond.
“az..”
he stumbled a little at the sound of his name on your tongue, feeling so much, positive and negative; love and betrayal, hurt and anger, comfort and sadness. it was a maddening concoction.
“you knew! you knew and you didn’t tell me! how could you, how could you do that to me?”
he reached for his leathers, tugging the pants up his legs and fastening them right over his shorts, grabbing for his t-shirt next.
you sat up now, crawling across the bed and tangled in the sheets before reaching a hand out to him.
“azriel.”
he flinched away from your touch, and your outstretched hand faltering before falling to rest on your thigh instead as you sat back on your heels.
“no, no, no. I need to think, don’t touch me right now. I just.. I need some space.”
“you need to think.. about us? about the bond?”
“I have some things to think about!” he was almost ashamed of the outburst as he tugged on his shirt, not even fastening it behind his back, and grabbing his boots and jacket in hand.
“right… okay, sure.” your voice cracked, and azriel was sure that would have killed him to hear had he not been swirling with so much anger already.
and then he was leaving, slamming your door behind himself and making the journey back to his room barefoot. he barely processed the walk, he barely remembered seeing lucien in the corridor or seeing feyre in the foyer.
the first time his head was clear once again was hours later, when he found himself in front of a punching bag.
he’d done as he always had, and resorted to mindlessly pounding out his emotions whenever it was too much. there were weapons scattered around himself, practice swords near the wood pillars and spare wrapping for his knuckles on the bench, and he reached a hand out to stop the bag from swinging.
there were mixed smells in the air, mostly his own sweat, that of the valkyries too. they must have come to training, and he hadn't even noticed. he’d been so caught up, so totally lost in his shadows and his feelings that he’d managed to block out the world entirely.
he willed them back, away from the frenzy around him and into a somewhat calm semblance behind his body, a writhing mass of cool, collected terror.
it was only once they were drawn back that he noticed his brother, arms crossed, leaning on the doorway with his brows raised.
“want to spar about it?”
his lips twitched up at the edges, and he glanced the ring, before nodding.
cassian had always known just what he needed when he was in a mood like this.
then again, he’d never quite had a mood like this before. never the hurt of finding his mate, finding out his mate already knew and had deceived him, and then the betrayal to follow, all within minutes. no, this was brand new.
he didn’t want to talk, not as he watched cassian powder and wrap his hands, not as he watched his brother take stance, and not as they began to throw and dodge punches.
no, it wasn’t until azriel was dripping in sweat and panting so hard his lungs hurt that the therapeutic part of it finally kicked in, and his shoulders felt light enough to let the words sitting on his tongue free.
“she’s my mate.”
“yeah.” cassian didn’t even hesitate, and the shock of realising that cassian knew too was so stark he caught a punch across his jaw.
he swore, spitting out to the side and cutting a glare at his brother. he’d already landed a good few punches of his own, but he’d get him back for that one.
“you knew as well?”
“yeah.”
azriel landed a hard blow to his brother’s ribs, prompting more than just that one word out of him with a matching glower.
instead, cassian slowed the movements of his feet until they were standing still, panting and aching and loose of physical tension at last. wordlessly, he had stopped the fight, enough that they were actually going to talk about this, it seemed.
“she told me after that one mission, where you almost died and snapped at her real bad. when she woke up after her burnout, we talked about it. I wanted to apologise to her. she told me, that the bond had snapped for her during that night when she was caring for you.”
azriel remembered that, or, the morning after, at least. how it had felt to wake up to you, to wake up to touch and feeling loved, and how he’d reacted much the same that morning as he had this morning.
he’d freaked out, and snapped, and yelled a little bit. he cringed slightly at the comparison.
his brother was smiling, unwrapping his hands. “so, it snapped for you too, then! when?”
“this morning, when we..”
azriel cleared his throat as heat rose to his cheeks, and cassian wiggled his brows with a smirk. “when we..?”
“oh, gods, cass. when we kissed, that's it.”
then, cassian’s smile dimmed, and his gaze flicked around the room at the chaos left in azriel’s wake.
“so, if it snapped this morning, what the hell are you doing beating out your frustrations up here? there’s much more enjoyable ways to pass the energy surge, you know.”
he winked, and azriel merely rolled his eyes, but he had no anger left to spare at the moment.
“I… was overwhelmed. I’ve waited so long, cassian, it took me by surprise. I freaked out a little bit, I was so shocked.”
“and?”
sometimes it scared him just how well his brother could read him. he sighed, trying to clear his thoughts enough to recall the morning the way it had happened, without the fog in his mind.
“and then she told me that she knew. she knew all this time, knowing how much I cared for her, how much I wanted her, how much I wanted a mate, and she kept it from me.”
“because you’re just known for your calm, logical reactions in moments of emotional stress. obviously.”
that earned cassian a scowl weighed with threat and disdain.
“she said she knew, I freaked out and said I needed some space to think, because how could she do that to me? I needed to leave and think some things through.”
“well, as long as you didn’t say it quite like that, but..” cassian shrugged, grabbing his water bottle and taking a hearty gulp before tossing it to azriel.
he was parched, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink when cassian had dropped a statement like that on him.
“that’s exactly how I said it. verbatim. what do you mean?”
“are you serious, azriel?”
rarely did cassian ever take that tone with him, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had, and azriel’s eyes widened a little in shock.
“let me just be sure I’m understanding this correctly. the woman who is head-over-heels for you, constantly gives you her all, openly adores you for all to see, you didn’t even suspect that she was your mate?”
“I mean, I hoped, but I tried not to think too hard so I wouldn't be disappointed-”
his excuse was cut off, ignored, as cassian held his hand up to him.
“then, when the bond finally snaps for you, because you finally let that last bit of your walls down to actually let yourself be happy, that’s what you say?”
“harsh, cass.”
“you told that sweet, kind woman, who knew and was waiting for you to figure it out on your own, because you’re so stubborn and hard-headed that you won’t just let yourself be happy, that you needed to think? you didn’t stop to think that for all this time she’s been protecting that bond alone, the bond you didn’t pick up, loving you with her whole heart and soul while getting nothing back, you didn’t think about her? what she’s been going through? that about cover it?”
azriel had never quite been lectured like this by cassian before. he could only nod.
“you watched me get my heart broken over and over again by nesta until she realised. and you.. you.. what is there to think about? what, you don’t want her? what, that maybe she’s great for keeping your bed warm but not as a mate?”
something awful, horrible, cold and heavy and sinking settled into his stomach.
his chest felt hollow, that place where a bond had been for only seconds before he’d silenced it felt like a missing limb now.
the last of the angry mist filling him finally dissipated.
if cassian thought those things, then maybe you-..
“oh, gods..”
“you’re such a dumbass.” cassian scoffed, frowning at him and placing his hands on his hips.
“okay, seriously, cassian. you are reaming my ass today, what the hell?”
“you deserve it!”
he couldn't argue that, all he could do was grumble about it.
he dropped those walls back down, reaching out for the bond and tugging. no reply, like a brick wall. he tried again, this time you had shut him out, and he hated how empty that made him feel. how much he must’ve hurt you by doing that.
“do you think I should-”
“I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE STILL DOING HERE.”
“OKAY, OKAY.”
it was enough encouragement, enough to spur him from where he was frozen, not even bothering to unwrap his hands as he took off in a jog.
once again, he was lost to everyone except his own thoughts.
he missed rhysand as he passed his office and called out a greeting, and he missed elain as he flew in and out of the kitchen, he missed nesta who cursed at him for almost running straight into her.
he searched every room for you, coming up empty everywhere but your bedroom.
he was banging on your door, one hand curled into a fist as he shouted your name, refusing to just barge in when he had so clearly been shut out and cut off, but that resolve was wearing thin the longer you didn’t answer him.
“angel, please, I just want to talk, stop shutting me out, c’mon.”
his shoulders were slumping, he hoped they weren’t shaking, as your silent treatment settled a heavy sense of foreboding within him.
“hey, az. what are you doing?” elain’s eyes were narrowed on him, and her arms were crossed over her chest as she took him in.
“hey, elain. I can’t find (y/n), she doesn’t want to talk to me.. I fucked up this morning and I know that and I’m sorry!” his voice rose toward the end of his sentence turning back to face the wood of your door and hoping you’d hear it.”
“az, she’s not in there.”
“you know where she is?” he didn’t even have enough to feel embarrassed as his head whipped to her.
“she went back to autumn a couple of hours ago.” elain only shrugged, because she didn’t have a crushing sense of defeat and loss and agony in her chest as she spoke those words. not like he did upon hearing them.
“she.. I mean, she.. what? why? when?”
elain only shrugged once more.
“I don’t know. I was out doing some early morning gardening before the heat of the day kicked in, and lucien came out in such a panic all of a sudden and told me he had to go back to autumn immediately, and was taking (y/n) with him. he wouldn’t tell me much more, just that he’d be out of touch for a few days. I barely even got a chance to say goodbye to him before they were winnowing out, bags in hand.”
she sighed wistfully, clearly missing her mate dearly, and boy did azriel know how that now felt.
he felt hot, all over, and somehow cold at the same time. his body was aching, in all new ways from the vigorous training, his eyes stung so much it hurt to keep them open and will back the oncoming tears.
“oh, az, don’t worry. they’ll be back soon, I just know it. why don’t we get you some tea, huh? I just brewed a fresh pot of berries and lemon.”
she reached up, one hand on his shoulder and one on his arm to lead him away. it was comforting, the warmth of her touch and the squeeze she gave, the smile to accompany it. but it wasn’t enough, not even close.
so he sat, with a cup of tea clenched between his hands, warming him slowly from the porcelain as elain rolled out bread dough on the counter behind him.
it was as he took the final sip, staring into the bottom of the blue hand-made mug of feyre’s that elain finally spoke up. the question had been lingering in the air for almost twenty minutes, and he had been delaying it as long as possible.
“do you want to talk about it?”
“not really.”
“talk about it.”
“okay.”
he’d long since given up on arguing with elain, whether it was her seer abilities, eavesdropping, or an uncanny ability to get information out of people, she’d gotten very good at knowing every single piece of gossip, and it was better to tell her himself than let her puzzle it out or hear it from cassian.
“in a nutshell, (y/n) is my mate, and I fucked it all up.”
“yes, well, I’d managed to piece that much together,” she smirked at him, wiping floury hands on her apron and pouring him a new mug of steaming tea, a spoonful of honey dunking into it to follow before she returned to her bread. “why don’t you tell me the rest?”
“she knew. cassian knew. you knew. everyone but me knew, apparently. the mailman and the courtiers from spring probably know. it snapped for me this morning, and I freaked out a little bit.” he pinched his fingers together, and then winced, expanding them some more “more than a little bit. I told her I needed to think about us, after basically accusing her of lying to me and implying she was awful for doing that, and then I.. stormed out.”
elain blew out a slow breath, slicing the dough into small cubes before shaping them up in circles. “well, it’s not great, I won’t lie. but, I don’t think she’d just run away from you. she’ll come back, she loves you, azriel, that means loving all the flaws that come with you, like brash decisions and saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment and storming out.”
he let out an empty laugh at her teasing. somewhere deep down, he could see the logic in it all, but that didn’t stop it from hurting right now.
“oh, az..” she brushed her hands down again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and propping her chin atop his head, squeezing him lightly. he raised a hand, patting her elbow where it sat on his shoulder and sighing. “you two are going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.”
“are you saying that as my friend or as a seer?”
her silence was answer enough for him and he groaned, head flopping down to sit on his forearms on the table as she only chuckled.
that was how feyre and rhys found him an hour later when they came down for sandwiches made of fresh bread, and he was forced to say it all over again.
then that evening, mor joined everyone for dinner and rhys forced him to reiterate it all over once more as he smirked.
the following morning, nesta gave him a look as she passed him in the corridor, and he knew that cassian had told her, too.
the only reprieve was amren, who simply did not care, and told everyone as much when sensing the foul mood hanging over him.
for three days he moped, every evening making him feel worse and worse.
he was lonely, his bed was cold, his chest was colder, and he felt like his heart wasn’t even beating.
he’d always been confused before when hearing the rumours, the stories of people with rejected or lost mates, and yet now, he understood.
he didn’t want to get up, he didn’t want to leave his bed, he wanted to lay, and fester alone, and wait.
azriel had been just fine before, just fine when nobody touched him, nobody told him what he could and couldn't have, when he was moping and broody and he’d never known any different. he was just fine imagining what his life could have been and never having it.
but then he’d had it. he’d had love and affection and touch, he’d had someone make him their priority, he’d had someone to cheer him up on bad days and to make him laugh when he wanted to frown. he’d had someone. and now, he was back to having no one.
it was dinner on the fourth night, as he was sipping on his wine, when the hairs on the back of his neck stood.
his shadows stilled for a split second, swirling in slow motion before becoming frantic.
the front door was opened a moment later. the room around him went silent, all eyes moving to the foyer.
his spine straightened almost painfully as his hands clenched, trying to resist the urge to fly up from his seat and toward you.
a small smile formed on your face as you glanced around upon making it to the kitchen, and as rhysand stood, his legs twitched, wanting to copy. wanting to follow, to make his way to you, to-
“I’m sorry we just disappeared.” lucien sighed, wiping a hand over his face. he looked exhausted, like he’d spent days on end without sleep, he’d rarely seen the male so stressed. you looked worse.
concern and panic flared up within him as he took in the circles under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders like even standing up was exhausting.
“I couldn't say anything until, well, until we knew what had actually happened. no easy way to say it, so, here it is. my father is dead.”
that shocked him, enough that he managed to tear his gaze from you for a second to stare at lucien, jaw dropping like almost everyone else.
elain’s chair screeched back, she was on her feet a moment later, flying towards her mate and into his arms as she mumbled soothing apologies mixed with vague curses about the man, and lucien only chuckled.
“what happened?” mor burst, frowning in an attempt to seem apologetic, he was sure most of the looks around the table were false sympathy. he wasn’t sure that even lucien was all that upset by it.
“officially? sickness. unofficially? assassination.”
gasps sounded around the table, and he didn’t care to take in any of it, frowning when feyre stood from her seat and made her way to you, squeezing your hands in her own, and azriel hated it, because he wanted to be the one holding you.
before he could move, rhys was tapping at his shields, a sharp talon scratching down those mental walls he’d put up.
“lucien, we should talk about it. my office, if you’re willing?”
the redhead only nodded, pressing a kiss to his mate’s head before disentangling himself.
he glanced to his brother, mental conversation taking place, and he knew it was right, no matter how much he hated it. if beron had been assassinated, they needed to talk, and that involved him.
the sympathetic look on rhys’ face did nothing to soothe him, and it was like dragging his body through wet cement as he followed lucien, rhys and cassian out of the dining room and to his office.
for three torturous hours he tried to focus and give his best, and yet you were all he could think about.
you were so close, you were back within the same four walls as he was, you were here, he could talk to you, get to you. he needed to.
as soon as he was free to go, he was outside of your bedroom door, knuckles tapping against the wood until he heard the faint ‘come in’ from the other side.
you were sitting in your bed, only the lamp beside you on.
“azriel, hey. I’ve been waiting for you.”
he couldn't feel any bone in his body as he all but sagged with relief. “you have?”
you only nodded as he took a few steps closer. “we should probably talk.”
well, there goes that relief.
his throat was burning, he felt so exposed and vulnerable and lost.
he was so caught up that he’d never noticed the return of that bond, the reopening of your end, until a wave of reassurance washed down it toward him.
there were tears in his eyes and his laugh was croaky as he rubbed his chest.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you left. I thought you were gone for good, I was so scared you weren’t coming back to me I thought I drove you away, and you have no idea how much that hurt, I couldn't even think. it- it was like my heart was missing from my chest, I love you so much, I can’t be apart from you, okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to make you leave, I didn’t mean to make you sad. not that morning, or the morning after that night you saved my life. I’ll be better, okay? I won’t be so grumpy and I won’t jump to conclusions, and I’ll just tr-”
“oh, oh, az-” he could sense how overwhelmed you were, he was only making it worse, and he watched you kick at the sheets and crawl toward the edge of the bed. “azriel, baby, c’mere.”
you held your hands held out to him, just like they had days ago, and he didn’t make the same mistakes as last time.
he stumbled forward, until your hands could take his face softly, thumbs swiping away the tears that were flowing steadily over his cheeks.
one of his hands closed over your own, the other gripping the opposite wrist.
“I’m so sorry, angel.”
“az, gods, honey, I’d never leave you. I’m sorry, that I had to close the bond, but it was a court-wide lockdown, I was liable for treason if I didn’t. all communication had to be cut off, even lucien to elain.”
he could only nod, he’d known that much, because elain had started to grow just as sad as he’d been as of yesterday morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, ever, okay? one little hiccup isn’t going to ruin what we have. you take as much time as you need to process it, gods know I spent the whole night I was mopping your forehead and checking your pulse was still there processing it.”
you pulled him forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and azriel was sure no drug or alcohol or deep breath as he broke the surface of the water had ever felt like this.
“I thought there was no way this moody bat who wants nothing to do with me is my mate.”
he laughed, hands finding your hips, your cheek resting on his temple as you hugged him close. “I’m sorry I was so rude the morning after.”
“that’s okay, I already forgave you for that a while ago. can you forgive me for not telling you for so long?”
“I already forgave you days ago. I’ve been in agony missing you ever since.”
you pulled away, despite his protests, kissing each of his damp cheeks gently.
“do you want to get ready for bed and join me? I’ve almost finished my chapter.”
“you sure you still want me?”
“I’m never going to stop wanting you, azriel. you’re mine, and I’m yours. I love you.”
“I love you.”
azriel was quick to strip down, all the way to his boxers, leaving his leathers over the back of the chair and his boots by the door.
you were still kneeling and looking at him fondly, and the air around him seemed to warm with affection, every nerve in his body relaxing.
“you ready for bed?”
“..yes.”
“you want some really clingy cuddles tonight?”
“I don’t think I could be close enough to you tonight if we actually became one person.”
he wasn't sure where such a confession came from, but you laughed at him, big smile and eyes closing and he didn’t care. if bearing his soul to you meant relaxed laughing and pretty smiles and feeling like this, he’d tell you every soppy, silly thought he’d ever had.
while your eyes were closed, he moved, all but tackling you onto the bed and burying his face into your neck.
it only made you laugh more, hands gripping at his shoulders, squirming as his hands ran up and down your sides to tickle, pinned underneath him and breathless as you giggled.
“az! what about the covers, my book, the lights!”
“don’t care.” he pressed a kiss to the crook between your neck and shoulder, finally relenting his tickling to simply lay on you instead.
love and playful joy and the feeling of fullness flushed down the bond, filling his chest as you caught your breath under him.
you shifted again.
“az, honey, please-”
“I love it when you call me that.” he groaned, nudging his nose against your jaw, cheeks aching from the smile on his lips. you only tugged at a handful of the covers under your bodies.
“I'm gonna’ freeze in the night, I’m not made of the same stuff you are.”
“that’s what happens when you wear these little nightgowns to bed.”
pinching some of the silk slip between his fingers, he jerked it lightly, and you smacked his hand away.
“they’re comfy! and besides, do you know how hot it gets in bed with you?” he pushed himself up, unable to stop the cassian-like smirk on his face as a very cassian-like joke passed through his mind. he needed to stop spending so much time with his brother. “oh, cut it out. you are like a furnace, but above the covers, I’m all exposed, my legs will get cold.”
“no winning with you, huh?”
“you’re gonna’ have to get used to losing arguments if you’re gonna’ be with me, honey.”
he sighed dramatically, despite the skip of his heart which he knew you felt too, and he lifted himself up, pulling back the covers so you could get beneath, and settling himself in beside you.
with the book gone and the lights out, azriel shuffled himself closer, resting one scarred palm on your cheek in the dark. “now can we cuddle?”
“yes, shadowsinger, illyrian warrior, terrifying-” he scoffed, leaning in to cut you off with a kiss, one which was cut short by your giggling.
“wasn’t it you that told me none of those things define me, and they don’t stop me being worthy of love?”
“yes, my love, my honey, my mate-”
“much better.”
“we can cuddle now.”
he tugged you closer, close enough that his forehead touched yours, cheeks on the same pillow, and he’d never felt happier than this moment, bond singing between your bodies.
after a moment, you moved, head tucking under his chin, legs tangling, and he circled his arms right around you, one wing following.
azriel felt like he was practically melting into you, as the slow traces of your fingers up and down his arm drained away every bit of stress from his body.
“everything is different with you, az. when you hold me, I feel so safe. I feel protected, like nothing can go wrong in the world.”
his heart swelled and he dipped enough to kiss your hairline in response, your nose following, before his lips were meeting with your own.
it was fragile, and soft, and perfect. everything he’d ever wanted.
it was the kind of kiss that promised every day, not the passion of one night or the teasing of something more. this kiss spoke to every part of him, it filled his heart, made him proud and happy and contented, and he loved it.
“when you hold me, I feel like I can finally be vulnerable. like someone sees every single part of me, and loves me. I don’t feel scared to show you every part of my soul. I am completely and wholly yours.”
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel/reader#azriel x reader#azriel/you#azriel x you#acotar x you#acotar x reader#acotar/you#acotar/reader#a court of thorns and roses
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Sun-Kissed
Ted’s pool party turned out to be a lot more fun than you thought it would be…👀
Warnings: Joe looking like a beach babe, emphasize the BABE; smut; fingering if you squint; that freaking chain; etc.
Also this is like probs my first official time writing smut so hopefully it doesn’t bore you or make you cringe, if it does, I am so sorry :*)
Also, thanks to @balanceingrace for the encouragement❤️
Part Two is Here!
You and Joe arrive at Ted’s house for the pool party he was having for Memorial Day weekend. A lot of Joe’s teammates and their girlfriends and wives were going to be there as well, so you talked Joe into going so he could be social for once.
You sit down in-between Joe Bachie’s girlfriend, Holly and Sam’s girlfriend, Jess on the edge of the pool along with a couple of the other girls.
“That hair driving Joe nuts yet?” Holly asks and you giggle.
“Not yet anyway. He does mess with it constantly but I honestly think he likes it. We’ll see how he feels about it in July and August when its borderline 100 degrees during practice” you give her a smug look and she laughs.
“What do you think about it?” Jess smirks.
“I like it. It’s different. We were together for almost a year when he grew it out super long the first time and I didn’t mind it then but I’m curious to see what he’d look like with it now. That man has aged like fine wine so I’m excited to see some flow” you bite your lip and the girls giggle.
“You talkin’ shit?” Joe asks from behind you, standing over you.
“About you? Of course” you smile back at him and he just shakes his head as he hands you a cold bottle of water.
When you looks back at your man, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander.
Joe had come back from playing basketball with some of the guys, his button up shirt all the way unbuttoned, showing his tan, sweaty, toned chest and torso. His chest being your weakness. His hair that has gotten longer over the past couple months and you were becoming feral over this new style he was trying. His hair was more blonde than usual, all thanks to the sun. The dirty blonde becoming low lights while the blonde really shown through. His Cartier sunglasses sitting nicely on his nose and cheekbones along with his chain around his neck that glittered in the sun, the rays bring out the jewels perfectly. Good God, you thought, if he just bent me over right now-.
“Damn, when did you turn into a slut?” You dip down your sunglasses at him, trying to joke with him instead of pouncing on him like a freaking tiger.
“A long time ago. When I started dating you” he dips his sunglasses down, copying you and shooting you a wink, which just made you even more hot. He’s such a jerk.
“Jesus” you mutter under your breath. This was too much stimulation for you, and you was afraid that if you looked at him any longer that you would
1) do or say something that no one else around should experience in public or 2) melt; which you were already doing.
“Well you need to quit because all of your ‘girlies’ can’t handle all of this” you motions to the heavenly being that was him. You couldn’t even handle all of that.
“Oh this is just for you, pretty girl. No one else to impress but you” he looks smugly at you, that famous smirk making its way onto his perfect lips.
And…it was done. That did you in.
You turn back around, facing the pool. You look over at Holly who knew what you were thinking.
“I’ll cover for you, get ya some” she smirks and nods her head towards the house.
“Thank you” you whisper to her before climbing out of the pool and facing back towards Joe. He chuckles lowly and you place your hand on his lower back, turning him around and pushing him nonchalantly into the house.
“Something wrong?” Joe asks you sarcastically, knowing the effect he has on you. Knowing your weaknesses that easily make you all hot and bothered for him.
You push him down the hallway and into the guest room and shutting the door behind you, locking it without even looking, just watching your man stare at you with eyes that were once bright blue, now dark as the depths of the ocean. And you were about to go for a dive.
“You” you tell him plainly. You make your way toward him, your hands finding their way to his bare, broad chest and your eyes looking up at him through your lashes.
“You are what’s wrong…but so right” you whisper.
In seconds, his strong hands grab your cheeks and his lips are on yours. Hard, unyielding, but loving and passionate. He couldn’t get enough of you and that damn berry chapstick you wore all the time. Your lips have never tasted any different.
His hands slide into your hair, gripping onto your long locks, slightly tugging which makes you moan against his mouth, causing his lips to curve up into a small smile.
Joe wasn’t one for PDA, but you get him in a room by yourselves, he was on you in less than a minute. Believe it or not, the man was handsy. But you didn’t mind the feeling of his strong, veiny hands on you, touching you, holding you. It was ecstasy.
His hands grip your hips as yours slide up his chest, to his shoulders, around his neck and into his dirty blonde hair that was now longer, easier to pull. He moans against your lips, spinning you around and letting you fall against the mattress, him going to pull his shirt off but you stop him.
“No. You better leave that on or so help me god-“
“Okay then” he chuckles, “can I take my shorts off or do I have to leave those on too?”
“Off, smart ass” you roll your eyes as you reach for his shorts, unbuttoning them and shoving them down his legs.
“These too?” He asks smugly, snapping the band of his boxer briefs against this skin.
“Joseph, I swear to god-“
“Okay, I’m done” he laughs, leaning down to reattach his lips to yours.
He quickly rids himself of his underwear, also quickly pulling your shorts and your blue bikini bottoms down all in one go and throwing them on the floor. He reaches behind your neck, his fingers sending chills down your spine as he pulls one the strings to your top loose, causing the tie to come undone.
He kisses down your neck, latching onto the place under your ear that makes you weak. He’s careful to not leave a mark, knowing you’d have his ass for having to walk back out to his teammates and their girls with a bright purple and red mark on your neck.
He makes his way down the column of your neck, you becoming a moaning mess, wanting him to be inside you already. He eventually arrives to your chest where he grabs onto the cloth of your matching blue bikini top with his teeth and pulling it down to expose your “perfect” breasts; his words.
“I’m obsessed with you” he says lowly, looking up at you through those blonde lashes and instantly latches onto your right nipple.
“Mmm” you moan, holding onto the back of his head, your fingers tangling into his hair as he swirls his incredible tongue around the bud.
He knew the other one was getting jealous so he moved over to your left breast, giving it the same amount of attention as the right. Joe was neither a boob or a butt guy; he was both. If he had to choose between your boobs or your butt, he would surely die.
Joe pulls away from your chest and looks into your eyes. He takes his index and middle finger and brings it to his mouth, licking them and bring them down to your core. You gasp as they brush your clit, him slowly circling it just to get you more worked up than you already were.
He drags them down to your entrance, teasing you as he feels the mess you’ve already made of yourself.
“Just wanted to make sure you were ready for me” he smirks.
“Always ready for you” you whine as he pulls his fingers away and brings them back up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them.
“I know” he smiles.
He spits into his hand and brings it down to his dick who was also always ready for you.
You reach down and wrap your hand around him, slowly pumping him.
“O-oh shit” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder.
You pick up the pace, a bead of precum appearing on his tip, he was starting to become a moaning mess. You take your thumb and slide it over his tip and let go of him to bring your thumb to your mouth. Slipping it into your mouth, you swirl around it, tasting him to which he watches you intently.
“I need to feel you, now” he says, his voice low and raspy. He lines himself up with your entrance before slowly, almost painfully pushing himself in.
“God” you moan out, your breath hitching in your throat as he hit your cervix. You’ll never get used to him, it’s always a pleasant surprise.
“You feel insane, baby” he groans, his head dipping down to your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. Your hands still in his hair, obsessed with gripping onto and pulling on his now longer blonde curls.
He pulls out and pushes all the way back in again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Joe starts to pick up the pace, the sound of skin smacking skin making the experience oh-so-much better and intense.
“Look at me” he breathes out, his face hovering over yours, that chain gently hitting your chin as he continues to thrust into you. Oh, that could make you come undone right then and there. God bless that freaking chain.
“You are so pretty, Jesus-“ he hisses, starting to fully pound into you, repeatedly hitting that soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back once again.
“Joe, I’m gonna-“ your eyes screwing shut as your hands go under the back of his shirt, gripping onto his muscular back.
“Let go, baby, let go” he grunts, his dick spasming against your walls as they clinch around him. He brings his lips back down to yours as you come undone, whimpering into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you, the oversensitivity starting to kick in.
With a couple more sporadic thrusts, moaning your name against your lips, he lets go, coating your walls.
He pulls out of you gently, both of you whimpering at the sensitive feeling. He lies down next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath.
“So the unbuttoned shirt is officially approved?” Joe asks, looking over at you and you giggle.
“10 stamps of approval” you smile at him and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Cool” he smiles back at you before leaning over to you and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.
“We should probably go back out there before they start to get suspicious” Joe sits up and pulls his underwear and shorts up his long legs and sets your bikini bottoms and shorts on the bed next to you.
“Joe, they’re not stupid, they know damn well what we came in here to do” you scoff and he laughs.
“Well, I’m going to blame it on you if they ask” He helps you stand up.
“Go right ahead and see what happens, you jerk” you narrow your eyes at him as you tie your bikini top strings back.
“Go pee. You can threaten me later, pretty girl” he winks and gives your ass a healthy smack as you make your way to the bathroom.
“It’s not threatening, it’s promising, JB” you tell him, patting his chest.
“Also,” you stop in the doorway, “you should wear that all of the time”
You smirk at him as he smiles at you.
“Oh I will wear it everyday if I get the exact same reaction I did today” he nods.
“Good” you wink and shut the door behind you.
After getting yourself cleaned up and fixing your sex hair, you walk back outside to where Joe was already sitting with the guys, chatting away.
You walk over to Joe and sit yourself on his thick thighs, your favorite seat to sit on, other than his face. Joe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, once again, sending a chill down your back. You shoot him a loaded look over your shoulder and he smiles up at you, those blue eyes glistening behind his sunglasses.
“Love you” he mouths to you and you blush.
“Love you” you mouth back and turn your attention back to the guys.
One of these days, he will be the death you. But hey, that would be a great way to go out.
#joe burrow#smut#football smut#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow fic#joe burrow fan fic#nfl#nfl football
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So i originally had this idea when i reblogged this post by @saphushia but i wanna just seperate it out as its own little prompt.
A quick context is that Danny seems to be roaming around Gotham like some homeless cryptid, kinda Bus to Nowhere style but with more vigilante interaction and casual offerings of first aid. And the batkids are keeping their adoption bait First Aid Cryptid(tm) secret from Batman.
One set of tags in the reblogs from @little-pondhead caught my attention
I came up with both funny answers and an angsty answer for that "#why?" but here's the angsty one (though i promice i actually envision it to be more hurt/comfort with a lot of family fluff)
Actual Prompt⬇️⬇️
Something happens, maybe a reveal gone wrong, maybe he got capture by the GIW, maybe he lost Jazz and his parents somehow.
Whatever it is, it leaves Danny with a need to escaped to a new dimension which just so happens to end up being the DCU. He winds up in Gotham and is just trying to start over, easier said than done but at there's plenty of heros around so he doesn't need to go ghost and he can still patch up the local vigilantes to feed his obsession. He's just not up to being Phantom yet and he's still recovering from whatever happened in Amity, whether it be mentally or physically.
Plus these vigilantes are kinda fun to mess with. Danny can practically see the gears turning as they try to put together and make sense of his little "lore drops", that Red Robin almost reminds him of Wes in a way.
Its not like he really needs to hide anyways. There's no GIW here, no Anti-Ecto Acts, if it really comes down to it he could probably pass as meta and fall under those protection laws. Judging by Signal, Danny's pretty sure Batman's bluffing on the whole "hating metas" thing anyways.
It takes awhile before Danny actually does meet the big bat himself and the reaction he gets is nothing anyone was expecting.
You see theres one little detail danny couldn't have been warned about, and its that there just so happens to be a version of Jazz here.
Except this Jazz lost her Danny when they were in high school, as in full on dead and gone Danny, no halfas here, the portal simply did not work and it was just regular ole lethal electrocution that hit her little brother.
What if she grew up with a young Bruce somehow, whether it be because CPS took her from the Fentons after her Danny's death or Amity Park simply doesn't exist in the DCU making Gotham the city with the thinnest veil and thus where the Fenton's chose to settle down.
This Jazz is an adult in her 40s but was once a kid smart enough to go to Gotham Academy on scholarship (or maybe the Fenton's had enough money from patents?). A kid who took one look at young Bruce's grumpy little face and decided he needed a honest friend, one that wasn't after status or money.
This Jazz grew up being a secondary voice of reason for Bruce, ganging up with Alfred in their own crusade to enforce healthy habits on him in between their weekly tea sessions.
This Jazz lost her brother and could not only understand Bruce's resoning on a minor level but encouraged his planned "journey of self discovery and healing". (Though the bat costume he made when he came back was unexpected and she gave him a look to rival Alfred for it)
This Jazz grew up to be a social worker because if anyone had cared enough to take her away from the Fenton's sooner then her brother might've still been alive
This Jazz being the one Bruce calls when he first gets Dick because holy shit he has no idea what hes doing and "Jazz, i just became a father, help!"
This Jazz being a sort of aunt to all the Batkids and is a major influence that has led to their dynamics being similar to Wayne Family Adventures
Bruce goes pale and later calls Jazz after he finally gets a glimps/meets the so called "First Aid Cryptid" his kids have been obsessed with. Because this kid that he's looking at with the barely visible lichtenberg scars... that's a face he hasn't seen in little over 20 years, that's his old friend's long dead baby brother.
Bruce sees danny and his mind rapidly jumps to all sorts of possibilities. Is this a clone? Is this a trap? Are the Lazarus pits involved somehow? Time travel? He does consider a ghost but this kid is too solid and they're nowhere near the old dilapidated Fenton Works building
Eventually, down the line when they get the full story of Danny being from an alternate dimension, Jazz might try to adopt him. Which has potential to be unhealthy but i fully believe Jazz would be aware enough not to project her decades old grief on this Danny, who is so similar but so different to her brother.
(Because I think a Gotham raised Danny would've been similar to a young Jason in street smarts so this Amity raised Danny is noticeably different)
Danny on the other hand... not sure if i could say the same, especially if he just lost his Jazz before winding up in the DCU. But again, this is an adult Jazz in her late 40s with professional experience dealing with traumatized kids, and she'll do her best to help him through it
Im imagining Jazz and Bruce to have a more platonic friendship, maybe even see each other as family, but you could go with Parent Syndrome if you want
(And because i love to see other peoples ideas and opinions, @omnicrafts @ailithnight @atiyasnake @hdgnj @nelkcats @nerdpoe @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @dcxdpdabbles. Sorry i tag you guys so much but i like your writing, im eager to offer ideas, and your posts have been major sources of joy while ive been hyperfixating on DPxDC)
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny fenton#batman#jazz fenton#bruce and jazz know each other#bruce and jazz are childhood friends#at least in another dimension#jason reminded jazz of her danny#she did her best to help with the bat kids#writing prompt#fic prompt#found family#is it found family if one person is your biological sibling from another dimension?
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Unexpectedly || Aaron Hotchner
Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here
A/N: This was SO much fun to write. Took me a little bit to get used to the writing style but once I did it flowed so well. There is A LOT going on in this one (make sure to read the full request!). Timeline is a little wonky – Season 3ish but we’re pretending George Foyet already happened, and Haley has already passed. I also just made reader 28 years old – you can pick whatever age you want!
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N
Word Count: 10.1k + (Probably should've made this 2 parts)
TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.
Life was good, great even. For the first time in a long time, you felt free, like yourself again. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to convince the BAU that you’d be a good communications liaison while JJ was out on maternity leave. Speaking in front of people never bothered you, it came naturally to you. So, when your manager mentioned an opening in the BAU for your exact job all the way across the country it piqued your curiosity. It piqued your curiosity so much that you ended up applying, interviewing, and accepting the job within a few days. On Monday you were an FBI agent stationed in Los Angeles and by Friday you were meeting your new team.
Hoping to make a good impression on your first day you brought in bagels and coffee just praying they would like you. You met your ridiculously good-looking boss that Thursday night after his team got back from a difficult case, his words not yours, and he showed you around the office. He had given the team the weekend off to relax. Something that wasn’t terribly common around there you had picked up.
Laying out the bagels on conference room table you were so in your own head you hadn’t heard the door open and close
“Well, what do we have here?” A smooth male voice came from behind you breaking you right out of your thoughts.
Spinning around on your heel you took the man in. Tall, handsome and had a devilishly cute grin across his face. Was everyone that worked here hot as hell? If that were the case you might be in trouble, “Oh hi! I’m Y/N. Agent Y/L/N. I’m covering for JJ while she’s out.” You flashed him a nervous smile hoping he wouldn’t be able to read you as easily as you thought it was. See, you never worked with profilers before this. Sure, you’ve worked at the FBI for years, but profilers made you nervous. Profilers seemed to know more about you than even you knew about yourself. And profilers at the BAU? This team was the best of the best. Better than any team you’ve worked on, that’s for sure.
He shot you a ]smile that would’ve taken you out in a previous life, “SSA Derek Morgan. Are these for the team?”
You nodded feeling his eyes surveying you, profiling you, “They are, if you want them.”
Nodding his head slowly he took a step forward to grab one, “Are you trying to butter us up?”
Giving him a small laugh, you continued, “Depends, is it working?”
His smirk grew into a full-on smile now, “Yeah, you’ll fit right in newbie.” He pulled out a chair for you to pop a squat next to him, “They’ll be in soon. Just slow on Friday mornings.” He commented after seeing you look out for anybody behind him.
Sitting down next to him you were sure you looked like a nervous mess. You were confident in your role. You knew you were damn good at your job too. But who wouldn’t be nervous walking into a room of profilers for the first time? Especially ones that could read you like an open book so quickly, “Thanks,” You gave him a quick nod, “You must be good at your job.”
Derek set his coffee mug on the table turning towards you, “We are. But that’s beside the point. You’ll learn quickly.”
Before Derek could continue the door opened again revealing your stern looking boss who gave the two of you a nod before taking a seat at the table.
“Bagel?” You offered.
With a quick look up and a quick head shake he continued scanning whatever he was looking at. Looking over at Derek curiously he just gave you a tight-lipped smile shaking his head. Deciding to just drop it you waited patiently for whatever the hell was about to happen. Hotchner briefly went over your responsibilities when he walked you through the BAU, so you were flying blind.
Slowly the team started trickling in making sure to give quick intros and thank you’s for the bagels. You sat back and observed what was going on. A quick conversation around the weekend turned to a squeal as on overly pink dressed woman came bounding into the room with a very big smile.
“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She clapped her hands grabbing a bagel for herself, “Don’t worry honey I only read your file. I didn’t go digging. I’m Penelope but this fine human specimen calls me Penny.” She gave Derek’s arm a squeeze.
“Or baby girl.” Derek through her a wink. A few others walked in quickly introducing themselves to you. Each team member more kind than the next welcoming you with open arms.
At Penny’s comment you felt you blood run cold. Of course, the bureau would have somebody like her on the team. It was stupid to think that this team wouldn’t have one. They needed her. Sitting in a room full of profilers who were watching the exchange was a bit unnerving too. Every expression on your face being hyper analyzed to profile you.
Raising your eyebrows in curiosity you could only ask, “Digging? What for?”
She giggled taking a seat next to Derek on his other side, “Anything dear. I can find any secret if it’s been on the internet. Maybe some that haven’t been.” She laughed.
Your heart started racing knowing she could figure you out completely. It was easy enough to get your file cleared of your past life once you changed your last name, but this? This was a problem. You couldn’t bury police and court records. Those would live for forever.
Smiling and trying to play it off as cool as possible you nodded your head along, “Noted. That’s a nifty little skill you have their Penny.” Her face lit up as she agreed with you. It wasn’t often she got complimented for her skills, so she took it when it was given.
Cool. You had to play this cool. You couldn’t let your emotions expose you now. This scenario ran through your head a hundred times before you came. You knew they were going to ask about your past. It’s not like anything was in your file other than you being from the middle of nowhere Colorado. You made sure to have it scrubbed before you came.
Hotchner cleared his throat letting the team know he was ready to go, and that work was what was important, not you at the moment. Silently thanking the man, you turned your full attention to him.
“Now that you’ve met Penny and the team has met Y/N, let’s get started.” The man was all business as he nodded to Penny. She passed out the case file to each team member, including you. Visibly fighting back your reaction to the pictures in the file it dawned on you how fucked this job was going to be. Shit, what in the hell have you gotten your sorry self into?
“Dayton, Ohio” She spoke after taking a seat again, “Four young women have gone missing and found dead near Eastwood Lake just north of the city. A fifth just went missing last night.”
“They went missing from local bars?” Spencer asked as he set the file down.
Penny nodded, “Each one from a different spot but all within a 5-mile radius downtown.”
“Ligature marks around the arms indicate being chained up or bound for some extended period of time.” Spencer rattled off studying the pictures. Taking a shallow breath, you looked back at the pictures of the young women. You’ve seen some fucked up things working with the FBI, but this was next level. These women were clearly tortured before whoever finally decided to kill them. The bruises, cuts, blood, and broken bones were not a sight many people could handle. A sight that reminded you of your past.
Acutely aware you were around profilers you lifted your head up to listen to the conversation that was unfolding around the table. You watched how they bounced ideas off of each other so effortlessly. How each idea was taken into consideration. They worked so flawlessly as a team. It was something you had yet to come across in your time with the Bureau.
“Lacerations to the left cheek on all of them.” You vaguely heard from Rossi as they all continued to converse. You watched in awe as the team did their thing. No wonder they were so well regarded. This felt like magic. They knew each other so well.
“No racial preference either. Seems to be targeting age. 25- to 35-year-old women in the Dayton and Beavercreek area.” Spenser’s voice chimed in again.
“Cause of death, asphyxiation to all the women. Possibly getting off to the torture?” Emily spoke up.
“What time did they go missing?” You asked skimming the file unaware that they all stopped their chatter keying in on you, “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked noticing the silence.
Derek shook his head with a little smirk, “Hardly.”
You looked back down not enjoying the attention, “Okay.” You were sure your face was beet red.
“Okay.” Hotchner brought his team back on track, “Jet’s leaving in 20. Y/L/N stay back for a moment.”
“Sure.” You nodded waiting for the team to disperse. Swiveling your chair back and forth you felt overly nervous to talk to the man. You’d heard the rumors about him before you got the BAU, and they seemed scarily accurate for the man. A hard ass that expected a lot from his team but would have your back in an instant, no questions asked. But what everyone failed to tell you was just how handsome the damn man was on top of it all. He was striking to you, exactly your type with his chocolate eyes and dark hair. It made talking to him a very nerve-wracking experience.
Just don’t think about how attractive you find him, and you’d be just fine. Easy, right?
When Penny walked out you turned to him, “What was that about?” You asked your boss as he took a seat next to you.
He gave you a look you couldn’t figure out before continuing the conversation, “It’s not often that somebody comes in and contributes right away. Much less a communications liaison.” You knew he wasn’t criticizing you for not being a profiler as everybody had their roles, but it felt like you’d overstepped.
“Oh, I’m sorry…”
He shook his head interrupting you, “No, we need every idea out there. That’s the difference between brining somebody home to their family or not.”
You scanned his face quickly, hoping you weren’t caught studying him. But he was the infamous Aaron Hotchner of course he would notice. You needed to get your stupid brain in check, but damn did he have a nice jawline. A nice everything really.
Giving him a small smile, you nodded, “Gotcha.” You wanted to call him Hotch, but it felt too soon, like you were trying to be a part of a team that you weren’t apart of just yet.
He gave you a curt nod before standing, “Grab your go bag and follow me.”
Following him out to the jet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. His suit tailored to his body in all the right places was sending you into overdrive. You should not be having these unsavory thoughts of your fucking boss that you’ve known for less than an hour of your life. But you had to give credit where credit was due. He was fine. Far too fine to be your boss. You were just thankful that he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head.
You quietly followed him onto the plane spotting Derek and Emily sitting on the couch. You opted to sit across from them running fast from your boss. He was fine as hell but boy was he intimidating.
“Y/N.” Emily nodded, “Welcome to the team glad to have you. Even if you’re like… twelve years old.” She sat back smirking, proud of herself for that one. You weren’t giving much up and this was her solution to that. Get under your skin. She knew nobody could resist.
Derek snorted quickly placing a hand over his mouth, “Hey! I’m 28.” You shot a glare at Derek already feeling far too comfortable around the man. But that was just Derek, open and welcoming. An easy-going great man.
“I told you she was over 25!” Emily pointed at Derek.
He shrugged, “I was off a little.”
You stared at them with a wide-open mouth, “I’m sitting right here.”
Derek turned towards you, flashing you that brilliant smile, “That’s a good thing Y/N. Younger than you look.” He threw you a wink.
“Shut up pig.” You crossed your arms over your chest blankly staring at him.
Emily laughed happily at that. She loved when women shot Derek down. So often they were throwing themselves at him that it just caught her so off guard.
“I’m going to close my eyes over there.” You nodded to the back of the plane where the curtains were drawn. Making it a bit darker than the rest of the plane.
Derek looked at you with a slight glare, not a fan that you were bowing out so quick. He wanted to get to know the new girl, “You good?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache.” You gave him a small smile, “Happens sometimes.” You tried to give him as little information as possible. As soon as you opened the can of worms you knew you were toast. You were walking a literal tightrope right now. One little slip up and the entire thing would come crashing down on you.
“Alright, new girl. Go rest up. We aren’t done talking about you though.” He raised a brow as if to challenge you. Emily nodded glancing up from the magazine she decided to pull out a few moments prior.
Nervously laughing you stood, thankful that these guys didn’t really know you just yet or they’d see right on through you like the profilers they were, “I’m not that interesting Derek.”
“Au contraire.” Rossi spoke up setting his book down. Spinning in the seat from not that far away. This caught Hotch’s attention. He looked up from the files he was studying to see what the commotion was about. Damn, they really were always listening, weren’t they? “The less you say the more we want to know.” Rossi finished spinning back towards Hotch. You watched as they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes.
You felt your heart rate pick up speed, why didn’t you think of a better cover? “I promise you both, I’m kind of boring.” Was all you could think to say. Just digging yourself into a deeper hole.
“So, you think.” He picked his book back up not sparing a glance back in your direction.
You found a seat that butted up against the airplane wall that let you close your eyes in peace. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding into your head. The stress of the situation raised your blood pressure which meant your head was more susceptible to the piercing migraines that were new to your life. What you didn’t see was your boss watching your every move in quick glances, not going unnoticed by his confidant Rossi.
Ever since the attack you got headaches and migraines all the time. When you were stressed, or your blood pressure started to increase the migraines hit almost instantly. The doctors told you it was due to the increased blood flow to that area of the brain that will likely never heal completely. This was something you just had to live with.
The migraines you could deal with. What really sucked was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that often followed a severe migraine. It got so bad on a case once you ended up fainting from the dizziness that clouded your eyesight. You just had to keep your stress under control. That’d be easy to do at the BAU right? Sure.
You opened your eyes when the plane started to descend into Dayton. A bit shocked you actually fell asleep. Often you struggled falling asleep on a plane or in a car. Instead of joining in on the conversation between teammates you opted to listen in, instead of contributing. The migraine was faint but still there. Maybe this wasn’t the best switch for you. Maybe coming to the BAU was a mistake.
The team exited the plane quickly getting into the escort vehicles taking them to the police station. Enamored with the entire process you zoned out as the team did their normal routine. This was all so novel to you. The jet, the escort, the prestige of it all. You came from a low budget office in the high budget city of LA. This was nothing short of fascinating.
The day you had to ran started just like any other one. Your boyfriend of a few years was off to work early in the morning. He was a detective at the same police department you worked at working as the communications lead for the precinct. You went to work, did your thing before coming back to the shared house. When you walked through the front door it was eerily quiet. Seeing your boyfriend’s truck in the driveway you knew he was home though.
“Honey?” You called out while setting your bag down careful not to make too much noise as you knew he didn’t like it.
“Kitchen.” Your heart dropped out of your chest hearing the tone of voice that came out of his mouth. It was his ‘you fucked up you’re going to pay voice’. Looking down at your hands you noticed that the trembling had already started.
You felt so weak. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, defend yourself. You tried to get away, but he found you. You tried to get the people you worked with to understand what you were going through but they didn’t see it, they didn’t get it. They didn’t want to see it. They wanted to protect him. Your very own coworkers, literal police officers, wouldn’t even help you. You were stuck with him. You knew you had to get out you just couldn’t figure it out. He was going to kill you if you didn’t.
Walking slowly, you peeked your head through the entryway spotting your boyfriend sitting down at the table. You knew you were in trouble for something you just hadn’t a clue what set him off this time, “How was work?” You spoke up knowing this was happening one way or another.
He stood walking over to the sink, staring right at you, “It was great until I got home and found a fucking dish in the sink.” He nearly growled, irritation coursing through his veins.
Fuck, did you really forget to put your glass away? What a dumbass mistake, “I’m sorry I…”
“What did I fucking tell you about the dishes Y/N? Or are you just too fucking stupid to understand what I’m saying?” Raising his voice he took a step towards you, toying with you. Your whole body was trembling now. He was so terribly scary when he wanted to be and right now, he wanted to scare the living daylights out of you.
“No. I’m sorry I just forgot.” You looked down knowing it wasn’t a good excuse. Nothing was a good excuse when he wanted to hurt you. You knew he loved it. The sick bastard that he was.
“You forgot?” He laughed. A deep belly laugh that sent a shiver rippling through your entity. Feeling your hair getting pulled from above you let out a small yelp as he forced you to look at him, “Like the dumb bitch you are.” You felt the pain before it registered in your head what had happened. He threw a punch to the side of your face dropping you to the ground almost instantly. Feeling blood trickle down your face you couldn’t bear looking up at him. That’d leave a nasty bruise.
He placed his boot on your abdomen pressing down a little too hard. “Pathetic. Can’t even stay standing? Hmm?” His boot connected with your rib cage. A nasty crack and the immediate searing pain started radiating immediately. A small whine emanated from your mouth as you tried to take a breath, but the pain almost felt too unbearable. He definitely cracked a few of your ribs.
“Going to remember to put your fucking dishes in the dishwasher next time?” He let out a low chuckle. You were in trouble. This was different. He normally stopped before it had gotten this bad. He knew he couldn’t hurt you to the point you couldn’t work so that usually meant your face, arms and legs were off limits. Yet, he went for it this time. He never dared to used such force that bones actually broke.
“Yeah.” You mumbled out finding it hard to even breathe at the moment. Not that he would take that as an excuse.
“What was that?” He grabbed you by the hair again pulling you to your feet. You were sure he took a chunk of hair out as he did so.
“Ow, fuck!” You cried feeling your vision start to blur from the force of the pull. The cuss word just slipped out, but you knew better than to use that ‘language’ in front of him as it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ at all.
A look crossed his face that you were sure you’d never seen before. One that looked like he wanted to kill you right then. To get rid of you, “That’s it. I’ve tried with you. You’re hopeless.”
He grabbed you by your shoulders grasping down hard making sure it would leave marks, “You are nothing Y/N. Absolutely nothing.”
“Then why won’t you leave me?” That might have been you’re biggest mistake to date with him. A slight twitch of his nostril made you realize just how fucked you were.
“Don’t you ever talk back to me.” Another punch but right to the nose sent you backwards into the wall. Black dots started dancing in your vision as you tried to stay upright. Blood started flowing down your face coating your shirt in the bright crimson.
“Then leave me.” You tasted the metallic blood that was pouring down your face. You were begging him now. It was now or never for you. He was either going to kill you or leave you. You couldn’t keep doing this.
Forcing you up against the wall with his hand around your neck he leaned in hard, making it hard to breath, whispering into your ear, “I’m never leaving you Y/N.” If you had any energy left tears might have rolled down your face but there was nothing left. You could hardly breathe from the kick to the ribs. He was restricting your airflow and you were starting to get faint, “You’re mine for forever, my dear.” He let his hand go from around your neck holding you up by the chest now. You sucked in a big breath only to be met with the excruciating pain radiating from your ribcage.
“Please.” You managed to look at him. Hoping to see any form of humanity behind his eyes. A small sob erupted when you realized how dark he had become.
Shaking his head he grabbed your upper arm, “No.” He squeezed forcing another short whine to escape your mouth, “Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”
You nodded your head trying to reserve talking for only when it was needed as it hurt, “I asked you a fucking question!” He yelled in your face continuing to clamp down on your arm. Your hand began to tingle from the lack of blood flow.
“Ye.. yes.” You mumbled out feeling yourself about to slip into unconsciousness.
“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”
Eyes widening a bit you couldn’t comprehend it. Wasn’t this the punishment? Before you could speak up you felt him pull you away from the wall. Completely at his mercy you didn’t even have the strength to stand anymore let alone try to argue with him. He was literally the only thing keeping you standing as you moved away from the wall.
He didn’t think it all the way through this time though. When he threw his last punch to your abdomen, he didn’t account for you not having any strength to stop yourself. So, when he punched you, you went flying backwards right into the corner of the kitchen island countertop. The back of your head connected with the stone instantly knocking you unconscious instantly.
Waking up in a puddle of your own drying blood was something you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy. The metallic stench of the drying liquid sent chills down your spine as you took in your surroundings. Blinking rapidly a few times you realized it was eerily quiet again as you regained consciousness. The house was dark. Too dark to see anything.
A shallow breath in brought in pain which caused you to wince opening up the raw head wound that had sealed itself shut. Rolling onto your stomach and holding yourself up with your palms you saw how bad it really was. Blood spattered the white cabinets while there was a literal pool of blood that came from your head. It was a miracle you were even alive.
It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire as you attempted to stand only to be met with jelly legs. A quite cry broke from your chest realizing just how bad this really was. He just left you for dead. He didn’t even call an ambulance. He was just gone.
He never took it that far in the past. He had an appearance to uphold at the police department and you showing up with any sort of visible bruises would shatter that illusion. It was usually just slaps across the face or shoves into furniture. Never had he actually made you bleed like this, on the brink of death.
The worst thing about all of this was that in the beginning of your relationship he was one of the best partners around. You loved him with your life. Then the stress and the cracks started to form. At first, he found other outlets like video games or going to the bar. Then it became you. The hitting only started a few months prior. But this, this was exceptional. This was a crime scene.
Thanking your lucky stars that you never took off your jacket, your phone was still in the pocket. With your very last ounce of strength, you dialed 911 before succumbing to the darkness again.
Instead of actually finding him, the cops said he ran away. That all they could do was put some feelers out. You used to think the world of these guys but then you realized he was their priority. They would protect their brother before you. You were just a woman. He was their brother.
After spending a week in the hospital due to fracturing your skull you were immediately transferred to another department about three hours away. That was all they offered, a measly transfer. With a head raging of migraines that never seemed to leave you decided you’d have to take matters into your own hands. Coming across a Bureau job in Los Angeles you jumped at the opportunity and was hired almost immediately. You opted to hide your past from your coworkers, changing your last name was the easiest way to do so Sure, the FBI knew about the incident but not your co-workers. The less it was brought up the less you had to think about it.
You were running from your past and you didn’t really give a damn. It made you realize just how fucked up the situation you were in really was. You weren’t anything to anybody at that police department. Just a woman who happened to be in a relationship to one of their police brothers.
Lucky for you, you loved your job at the Bureau. And you excelled at it quickly. Often picking up extra work for your coworkers. When the job at the BAU opened up you jumped as quick as you could. The BAU was coveted in the FBI. If you could make it there you could make it literally anywhere.
The case was tough on you. Just yesterday they found the fifth victim. It was only a matter of time until the sixth was taken. The killer was picking up speed at an alarming rate. Going from once a month down to every other day. You were doing a decent job keeping your stress down and your migraines somewhat at bay. But any of these women could be you on a given night. It hit you like a truck when the fifth woman was found in a park. She was wearing an outfit you would’ve worn to go out with friends. She was out living her life twelve hours prior and now she was just gone. How sick life was.
Time for the worst part of your job, telling the police and the public in a press conference. Even though it sucked it needed to get done. The more that young women knew that this was happening the more alert people would be. You gave the profile during the press conference that the team had come up with. White male, in his early 30’s, likely of shorter and heavier build with deeply rooted emotional trauma due to growing up without a mother or mother like figure. His mother probably left him when she was in her early 30’s thus the reason for the victim age range. So typical. How often you ran across cases like this. This guy was just a little sneakier. Not as dumb as your typical run of the mill criminal.
You sat in the conference room studying the white board with all the victims posted across with all the fine details of their short lives. The rest of the team stepped out for lunch, but you just weren’t hungry. Not after delivering that news to the Dayton Ohio area. Opting to just lose yourself in your thoughts instead.
You weren’t given much time to lose yourself before you heard a chair scrape the ground next to you. Looking up you were surprised to see your boss sitting down next to you with a snack in hand.
“No lunch?”
“No, not hungry.” You gave him a half smile trying to knock yourself out of this mini funk. You thought you were prepared. You read all the case files. You talked to all the experts. But damn, when you were middle of doing it, it was like nothing you could’ve expected.
Feeling your personal phone buzz, you looked down while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Opening your phone and clicking the little messages icon you frowned not recognizing the number that texted you. Your mouth immediately ran dry as adrenaline started pumping through your body. One text. One fucking text you never ever wanted to see.
‘I know where you are.’
Your heart rate sped right up which would lead to inevitable migraine. Fuck. There was a chance it wasn’t him but who else could it be? He loved to do this kind of shit to you back when you were together. Completely fucking with your mind.
“Everything okay?” You heard your boss faintly ask as you couldn’t rip your eyes away from your phone screen. Blinking rapidly, you had to remember where you were. You were working. You couldn’t worry about that right now. This was a later problem. Block it and move on. Besides, it was getting embarrassing how many fucking times the team had to ask if you were okay. You needed to knock it off and soon.
“Y/L/N.” You heard more sternly this time.
“Yes?” You locked the screen shoving it into your pocked. Out of sight out of mind. Right?
“What’s wrong?”
You shook your head trying to play it off as cool as you possibly could, “Nothing Hotch.” You finally felt comfortable enough to call him that. I suppose when you hunt killers and study dead bodies you tend to bond faster than you would in any other job.
He gave you an exasperated look, “You do realize I profile people for a living.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “It’s nothing. They’re just so young.” You pointed your head towards the white board. You couldn’t let him know about your past. It was almost too fucking embarrassing to admit. You thought you were strong. Clearly not strong enough to leave him before he nearly killed you. And Aaron Hotchner just might be the strongest person you have ever met in your life.
In the brief time that you’d known him you’d learned all about his past from his coworkers. How he was stabbed, lost his ex-wife and was still here doing this damn thing as a single father. His strength was unparalleled to anything you had known. So, to admit your past to him was something you were far too scared to do. The worst thing would be to be seen as weak to Aaron Hotchner.
He nodded looking you over. Something he seemed to do far too often that made you feel things you really shouldn’t be feeling, “Is that all?”
“Mhmm.” You nodded refusing to look at him but instead at the victims. Hoping you were selling yourself well enough. He didn’t believe you. He was a profiler, a damn good one at that. He knew something was on that phone. Something you were refusing to tell him.
“It’s tough.” He admitted setting his cheese crackers down turning his body towards you, “This is not and will never be an easy job Agent Y/L/N. It’ll probably be some of the most gruesome work that you’ll be in the thick of. But let me tell you something. When you get to save one of those girls or any innocent victim it changes you. You know you saved them from something so horrific, something that no innocent human should go through. And that makes it all worth it. I can promise you that.”
A little shell shocked that he dropped that bomb on your lap you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “Thank you Hotch.” Looking up to him you continued, “Really, thank you. This is… brutal. I thought I knew what I was signing up for.”
“You can step away at any time. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but we really did hire you for a reason. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could do it.”
Those damn butterflies erupted in your stomach as he looked you over to make sure the message really sank in, “I can do it. I just have to adjust.”
A small smile formed on his face. You had to assume that was a rare sight for the team as it caught you off guard. He looked so damn handsome with a smile on his face. Something you wanted to see far more than you already had in the few days you’d been on the case with the team.
He stood grabbing his crackers, “Good. If you need anything. Really. Anything. Please, don’t be afraid to ask. Alright?”
You nodded rapidly, “Got it Hotch. Thank you.”
“Sure. I need to go talk to the chief. Try and grab some food?”
“Yeah, sure.” You threw him a smile as he walked out of the room. God, you were fucked if this was how we was going to treat you. Already so attracted to just his physical appearance and then he pulls that out? What’s not to love.
Deciding to listen to him you grabbed an apple and a snack from the vending machine to suffice his request. Sitting back down you opted to refresh your conference notes, getting prepped for your next press conference. You needed to get in contact with the latest victim’s family for Hotch too. Spending the rest of lunch, you decided to knock out your needed tasks to make him happy. To let him know that he did hire the right person. You could do this.
“How was your date with Hotch?” Derek asked as he and Spencer walked back into the conference room after they got back from lunch. Completely interrupting your silence that you were enjoying.
Rolling your eyes, you knew he was only trying to work you up. You quickly learned that Derek was the type to tease you. His form of love.
“What are you on about?” You gave him a quizzical look. Hoping to come off as dumb as possible.
“Don’t play dumb.” He sat in the chair right across from you.
Cocking your head to the side you only looked at him curiously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Derek.”
This time Spencer spoke up, “It is uncommon that Hotch stayed back. But you are brand new. He could have just been checking in on her.”
“See,” You raised your eyebrows to let him know Spencer was the right one, “Dr. Reid is correct. He was just checking in on his new employee.”
Derek rolled his eyes this time, much more dramatically than you, “Sure, whatever you say Y/L/N.”
“Although,” Reid spoke up again. You snapped your head around in a panic. He was not supposed to say anything further to egg Derek on, “He has been watching you quite a lot. I noticed it when we were back at Quantico. Then when you were asleep on the jet. And really during this whole case…”
“Boy genius!” Derek laughed clapping him on the back. Spencer just looked back and forth between the two of you knowing he said something you didn’t like as you gave him a less than impressed look. Derek was grinning ear to ear, eating all this shit right on up.
You shook your head, “Because I’m new!”
“And oh, so pretty too.” Derek’s smile only grew wider, if possible, when you blushed a bright shade of tomato red. You just loved how your body exposed you of your emotions.
“Shut up. Does not. Drop it.” Grumbling, you turned away from both of them.
Spencer leaned back silently observing Derek’s picking on you. He didn’t really think much of it at first. But once he saw Hotch’s wondering eyes over and over again, he had to make a mental note of it. He didn’t act this was when he started or when Penny started. It only seemed to be reserved for you.
Spencer had a silent conversation with Rossi as he caught Hotch staring at you when you were sleeping on the plane. Rossi only smiling. Rossi knew something.
“Seems like you might have a little crush too.” Derek made a kissy face. This was a nightmare. Sure, you may have a small little crush, but he was your fucking boss. Hell would have to freeze over before anything could happen between the two of you.
“Do not.”
“Yeah see,” Derek leaned forward, “I don’t believe you.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”
Derek only smiled, “We’ll be watching.”
“Go for it.”
Your personal phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking much of it you pulled it out of your seeing that same number from earlier pop up again. Opening the message your heart might’ve stopped right then and there.
‘You can’t hide Y/N. I know where you are and I’m coming. Virginia? Really?’
You forgot the two of them were sitting there as you read the text over and over again. Burning the God forsaken image into your mind. How? How could he have found you. Why now? Why almost a year later? You wanted to block the number, but you knew he’d just find another way to get ahold of you. You also knew you needed to show the police and fast. But then that’d expose you completely. Open up everything.
“You good Y/N?” Derek asked ripping you right back into the present.
“Yeah, just thinking about those girls.” You lied hoping you were a good enough actor to get you out of this one.
He nodded, “it’s hard. To view them as both human and try and distance yourself. You’ll figure it out. We all did. It might be tomorrow. It might be in a few months. But you’ll get there.”
“Thanks Derek.” You sighed fully accepting their fate. That you could move on from. But the horror of being stalked by your ex unfortunately loomed in the back of your mind.
Spencer smiled enjoying the interaction between new friends. He liked you. Derek seemed to like you. Hotch seemed to like like you. And Rossi was bound to adore you if Hotch did. Emily of course would hate you at first and then grow to love you. You were in.
The rest of the team worked tirelessly until the sun went down. Hotch ordered the team back to the hotel demanding a good night’s sleep. You knew it wouldn’t come. It hadn’t come in the almost week you’d been in the horror show.
After tossing and turning for what felt like forever you knew you had to get out. Get away for a moment. Everything felt so suffocating. You guys couldn’t do it. Weren’t able to save the fifth girl. She showed up that morning and you knew that night he’d probably have another. Fuck, why was the world so cruel?
So, you might’ve done the dumbest damn thing that you’ve ever done and called an Uber to take you to the bar down the street. You knew you shouldn’t of. Or at least let somebody know where you were going but you just needed to get away. One or two drinks couldn’t have hurt.
That was until you were sipping on your third drink feeling a little too good. You were people watching enjoying the music that was pumping throughout. Eyes on the group of young women having a good time you didn’t see the man come sit next to you.
“Come here often?”
Turning to your right, the man sitting on the barstool next to you waited for your response. Giving him a quick once over you knew something was not right with him. Your gut was screaming at you to turn the other way.
“No.” You tried your best to ignore him, but he just kept talking. Not taking your silence as a no.
“That’s a shame. So pretty.” His slimy eyes trailed your body. A small shiver went down your spine. Trust your gut. If there was one thing you were taught, it’s to always trust your gut. You took a peek at the man. Young man who was short, fat and creeping on a young girl at night? The same night your unsub would be hunting his sixth victim? Could it be him? Could you be so lucky?
“I’m not interested.” You kept your eyes forward carful now. You had to figure out if it was him.
He really didn’t know how to take no for an answer, “Don’t be so harsh beautiful. It’ll only age you quicker.”
“Look I don’t need some guy with mommy issues telling me how I should live my life. Please just go away.” Moms made him mad. This had to be it.
He gave you a sickening smile, “I didn’t have a mommy. So how can I have mommy issues dear?”
This was your unsub. Had to be. Trust your gut, right? Of all the fucking people in the world to get approached by it was him? Jesus. It then hit you that you were his next victim, or so he thought. He targeted you to take down. Damn, what were the odds of that?
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“Oh, come on beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. It’s free and if you want me to leave after I will.” You needed to keep him talking. If he was talking to you that meant he wasn’t talking to another girl.
“Sure, let me just go freshen up really quick while you get the drinks.” You gave the creep a half smile deciding this would be the perfect time to call Hotch. The longer you took his attention the better chance that he wouldn’t escape. It had to be him. His profile down to his absent mother was nearly perfect.
Hands shaking you begrudgingly typed in Hotch’s number. He was going to absolutely lose it. But you were sure, this had to be the guy. He was short, stalky, and talked like the most misogynistic fuck you’d ever been around. It had to be him. You so wished you weren’t three long island iced teas down though your brain felt a little hazy. Hitting the call button, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he answered.
“Hotchner.”
“Hey.. hey boss.” You sucked in a breath knowing how awkward you sounded. Fuck, why was this so hard?
“Agent Y/L/N.” He sounded more alert now. You glanced at the time only to curse that it was already one in the morning. You’d been out far too late, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m at a bar and…”
“You’re what?” He sounded pissed raising his voice only a little. Oh well. This was more important.
You sighed and continued. Letting him know you were irritated that he interrupted you, “I’m at a bar. I needed to clear my head and I think the unsub might or might not be trying to take me home. If you know what I mean.” You wanted to giggle but you knew that’d set the overprotective man off. You weren’t feeling so hot.
You heard rustling in the background. He must be getting up, “The unsub? What? Stay there. Send me your location.” He was trying to process all this information as you so casually told him what was going on. How were you so calm? Were you fucking with him?
“Yeah, okay. I’m in the bathroom, I…”
“Stay there. Stay on the phone.” It sounded like a growl. He was pissed. More than pissed. You didn’t even know the man that well and you knew he was going to lay into you for this.
“Okay.” You felt the alcohol kick it into high gear now. At least, you’d hopped it was only alcohol that was making it hard to concentrate. But this didn’t feel like an alcohol buzz. This felt like your body slowly shutting down.
“Y/L/N!” He yelled on the phone. You must have spaced out. Fuck. Maybe he did put something in your drink. You weren’t usually so spacey.
“Yes, sorry?”
“I asked you how you know it’s him? The unsub?”
“Oh, uhm yeah.” The walls started spinning. Trying to regain your focus only to be met with a splitting migraine, “Shit.” You groaned. Your head felt far too heavy for this just to be alcohol.
“Y/N. What’s going on?” He sounded a bit panicked. You felt horrible for doing this to him but boy were you glad he was on the other end of this phone call right now.
You sat yourself down on a toilet locking the door in front of you hoping this would pass soon, “Hotch, I think he drugged me.” You were so good with your drink though. Never letting it out of your sight. How in the hell could he have slipped something?
You heard some muffled sounds from the other end of the line. It only sounded like him though, “I’m three minutes away. Are you in a safe spot?” His panic ridden voice almost sounded like it was going to break. You’d only known the man for a week now, but you’d grown somewhat close to him. You probably talked to him more than anybody on your team, being the communications liaison and all. Not only did you guys just click it felt so natural and normal to want to be around him. To push his buttons in the best way.
“Yeah, yeah,” Your head began slumping against the stall feeling heavier than it really was. Fucking fuck. What in the hell, “Locked in a bathroom stall.” You mumbled knowing you weren’t going to be terribly coherent here soon.
Moments felt like a lifetime. Then the bathroom door flew open. It didn’t feel right though. Didn’t feel like Hotch.
“Hotch?”
“Who in the hell is Hotch?” That voice from the bar rang out. Eyes wide you knew you didn’t have much time or quite frankly any strength to fight this guy off. Even if you were the same height.
“What are you doing in here? Get out!” You managed to spit out. The brain fog seemed to momentarily lift in the sheer panic of the situation you managed to find yourself in.
“I thought you ran off on me. It’s time to go.” You heard the door handle jiggle back and forth. Pulling your legs to your chest you sat all the way back on the toilet seat. Fucking hell. How was this your life?
“I’m not leaving with you.” You tried to sound confident, but it came out sounding weak and afraid. Just like you were. Terribly weak. Horrifically afraid.
“Oh honey. But you are.”
“She’s not.” You heard your bosses voice and the click of a loaded gun, “You have the right to remain silent…” Hotch went off on his spiel only for you to lose yourself to your thoughts again. Taking big, ragged breaths it hit you just how close to death you were yet again.
“Y/N, can you open the door?” It was him. Hotch. Thank God.
You weren’t too far gone just yet. Lifting your head from the stall door you managed to stand on your own. Slowly you unlocked the door. Hotch nearly kicked the door into you as he was eager to check you over. He needed to confirm that you were okay. He knew he had to reprimand you for this behavior, but it wasn’t the time. You looked petrified. Scared. He knew you’d never really be the same. How could somebody be once they know they were the target of literal murder? Hotch just didn’t know you’d been through this before though. That this wasn’t even the craziest thing that had happened to you this year.
After checking you over and not saying a damn word he ushered you to the ambulances that were lined up outside. You felt a disgusting wave of embarrassment knowing they were called for you. If there was one thing you had hated it was being the damn center of attention. Fucking hell. You had to talk about this in a press conference too. Your job just got a whole lot more interesting.
“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
“Hotch, I don’t need to go…”
“Not a word Agent.” He shut you down so quickly and harshly you shut right on up. The man of very few words was giving you even less than you were used to. You royally fucked this one up. Hopefully you had a job once you got back to Quantico.
Your hands trembled before you knocked on his office door. Hotch had asked you to hang back and meet him in his office after the jet had landed. The team gave you sorrowful looks as they exited. You knew you were in trouble. But damn, did they have to look like they were going to your funeral.
You heard a faint, “Come in.” Only to be met with a stoic Hotch sitting at his desk.
Quickly, you sat in the chair in front of him just waiting. Fuck. This almost felt worse than disappointing your ex. Hotch actually meant something to you.
“What were you thinking?” He asked far too calmly.
“I wasn’t sir, I…”
He stood up not daring to look down at you, “I told you all to go to bed. To get some sleep. And you go to the bar? What the hell were you thinking?” He undid his tie. Already frustrated
“But sir I..”
“I’m talking.” He raised his voice a notch. Enough for you to back down. Not daring to look up to him your heart began to race. How awful this all felt. It was one thing to upset you ex but to disappoint Aaron Hotchner.
“I’m sorry... I”
He raised his voice, a little too loudly now, “You disobeyed direct orders Agent! Do you know what that means? That means you could have died out there. Do you understand me?”
You shrunk within yourself brining yourself right back to that night. God how you wish your brain didn’t work like this but here you were. You weren’t in Hotch’s office at the BAU nope, you were in that kitchen. The night you almost died. The night your ex tried to kill you. You heard those chilling words.
“Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”
Bringing your knees to your chest you couldn’t stop the stupid fat tears that raced down your face. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. But God damn did it hurt. Your ex said those same damned words right to your face.
“I’m so…” You tried to breath, but you couldn’t. You took short rapid breaths just trying to fucking breath. What in the hell was happening to you? It felt like your lungs were collapsing in on you.
Aarons eyes softened as he saw the tears begin to flow. He didn’t mean to make you cry. You were so different than the rest of the team. The rest of the would have brushed him off or rolled their eyes. But then you broke down. You looked panicked. Like you were in a different world.
“Y/L/N?” He asked hoping to bring you back to this planet. But you were gone.
He walked over to you crouching down, “Y/N.” He knew he couldn’t speak to loudly. That seemed to set you off the first time. He had to go about this differently. He began to reach out to touch you only to met with the panicked version of you he’s seen.
“Don’t touch me!” You jumped out of your chair somehow finding your breath after all of this. You couldn’t let him get near you. He’d hurt you. Just like your ex. Just like the guy at the fucking bar the other night.
“Y/L/N.” He backed off putting his hands above his head as you sat down against the wall, “You’re having a panic attack
“Just stop!” You covered your face with your hands bringing your knees close to your chest. It felt so hard to breath.
Aaron took a few steps closer careful not to overstep but when you saw him you about lost him. He wasn’t Hotch he was your ex coming to take you out for good this time.
“Please.” You put your hand up to stop him. He noticed your trembling hand that asked him to stop. This was a response he never had expected. You’d been so guarded he hadn’t a clue what this could be from. Aaron was used to trauma. That was his field. Trauma and more trauma. It saddened him to know that you’d been through something that could make you so blasé to the fact that you’d almost been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered the other night. Whatever it was he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a response to that same trauma.
“I’m sorry.” He stopped again sitting on the ground. He watched as you struggled to breathe. He wanted to wrap you in his arms so desperately it hurt. It was painful to watch you struggle. God, he wanted to be there for you. He shouldn’t have felt this way about a subordinate. About one his employees. About somebody so much younger than him. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Ever since you came in for that damned interview he was hooked.
He wasn’t mad at you more so the situation. He knew the odds of that happening were one in millions. But of course, you were that one in a million chance. He knew how gorgeous you were. It wasn’t a surprise per say but the thought of actually losing you after not even getting the chance to know you hurt him. He only scratched the surface of you, and he was enamored. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get to know the real you.
All you saw was him. Your stupid ex sitting there taunting you. Waiting for you to slip up. You just kept trying to fucking breath, but it wasn’t happening.
“Y/N.” He spoke again.
Shaking your head you couldn’t take it, “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Oh, Y/N.” He frowned letting himself become small now, “It’s me. Aaron. Aaron Hotchner.”
Your eyes flicked up to him as you cowered against the wall. He was Aaron. Not your stupid fucking ex. He wouldn’t hurt you.
“It’s me. Can I please come closer?” He begged sitting there waiting. Waiting for the second you would let him.
You nodded continuing your short breathes. Aaron Hotchner. He was a friend. He was okay. God damn. You couldn’t believe you were reacting like this. It just happened. You didn’t even have a thought to stop it. Your mind took yourself back to that kitchen a year ago.
Slowly he scooted closer reaching out to you, “it’s okay. I promise. Try and take a deeper breath, okay? On the count of three?”
You nodded waiting for him to continue.
“One. Two. Three.”
Somehow, someway he was able to get you to calm down. With slow counts and patience, you eventually managed to get your breathing back to normal. Taking long slow breaths you couldn’t bear to look up to the man. How fucking embarrassing was all of this.
“I’m so sorry.” You barely spoke.
“Nothing to apologize for Y/N. Can I touch you?”
“Yeah.” You still couldn’t look up. So ashamed.
Feeling his arm wrap around your back you closed your eyes letting him take you in. He pulled you into his chest wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tightly, he dropped one hand brushing your hair out of your face.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair trying to make you feel a bit better. He couldn’t imagine the agony you must be in. He wished he could just take it and throw it all away for you. He was in far too deep. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.
“It’s okay.” You replied softly letting your head fall against his chest. Whatever embarrassment you felt washed away as you breathed him in. He just felt like comfort.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Okay.”
“But” you paused taking another breath. Whatever, he should know why you were as fucked as you really were. So, you told him everything. All the nitty gritty details. He listened. Squeezed you when you were slow to continue. To encourage you.
Once you finished, he paused taking everything in. He was shocked the world could be so cruel to someone as gentle as yourself. How could anybody be so awful. How could they not see how wonderful you really were?
“Thank you for telling me.”
You nodded, “Sure. Just don’t think any less of me?”
“Never. Come on, let’s get you home.” He stood reaching his hand out to you.
You nodded letting him pull you up, “Thank you Hotch.”
“Jack’s gone for the night. Stay with me tonight in my guest room? I think you’ll sleep better.” He asked which came out more as of a demand.
You could only nod letting yourself fall into him, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Can you walk?”
You smiled softly, “Yes, Aaron. I’m not inept.”
He chuckled softly, “That sounds nice.”
You turned towards him with a big cheesy grin feeling stupidly giddy all of the sudden, oh how this man got you so quickly, “Oh yeah?”
He nodded reaching for your hand, “Come on now.”
“Sounds good, Aaron.” You took his hand happily.
Part 2
@senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy
#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotch fic#criminal minds#emily prentiss#ssa hotchner#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotchner x you#hotchner x reader#agent hotchner#hotch#criminal minds fanfiction#david rossi#derek morgan
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The trio
Day 11 of celebration marathon
Platonic!Trio x reader
-£ ask: Can you do something about how Percy, Annabeth and Grover would be meeting a new mortal friend after the quest? Like Annabeth having her first friend outside camp and maybe having all the awesome kid moments she missed ie sleepovers, movies, school dance... stuff like that. Grover making a friend he isn't trying to protect or save and can just be himself. And Percy making a friend with the confidence he got from knowing he's different but not broken. (I loved tonight's episode and can't wait for season two! I hope your enjoying the books they were my favorite when I was 12) @poemfreak306
-£ Warnings: fluffy friendship, hcs, me just going with what my brain comes up with, I haven’t slept since yesterday.
It’s funny how you were so excepting of their situation. Of course you were confused but you got over it pretty fast.
you had watched them defeat a monster on your way home from school and hid while they took care of it. You actually thought you were losing your mind.
They were just surprised as you when you went up to them, a normal human. I mean humans could see through the fog before but you were different.
“So…you actually have goat legs?” You point down at Grover as he blushes and nods.
“Awesome.”
You took them to your house and offered them a place to stay for the night, or some meals at first since they didn’t want to stay around you to long.
Annabeth likes to talk about things she feels like she can’t around anyone at camp, like girly things. Maybe you teach her a new hair style? Or show her a new teen magazine with cutes boys, then show her new movies she might like.
(I have a feel for wound either love or hate legacy blonde and you can’t convince me otherwise)
She likes when you gossip about your regular life and the problems you have, she likes to live through you. She also likes to teach you things to if you ask.
Grover is so happy to have you. He doesn’t feel the pressure. Not that it’s a problem with the other two but he likes to chill in your room. He’s a sucker for laying down in your room while you listen to music and play with his hair. Also, teach him videos games and battle him. He likes to visit you all the time to complain or rest up. You are his battery charger.
Also, Grover loves you because you always prepare snacks for him. He eats anything, Tin cans and random things he could find but you take the time to make him something. Makes him feel loved and cared about.
You are a blessing in Percy’s eyes. The other kids made fun of him for his whole like. But here you are, not a care in the world. You do scold him if he gets hurt and about being more careful tho he enjoys that. He had a kinda normal childhood with his mom so he knew a lot of things like you did so it was easy to bond. You got all his references!
Percy likes it when you listen to him rant on about his problems, about how camp is, or how he killed some monster. He enjoys how excited you get when he tells his stories. You call him and the others your hero’s.
Movie nights are always fun with them. Either you and Percy are showing them a movie you watched or you show them something.
If it horror. Grover will be watching intently while eating popcorn unlike what you thought the first time, he likes it. Annabeth is screaming at the tv how they are messing themselves up and somehow ends up rooting for the killer, (she never will admit she yelps at times) and Percy is in the middle. Sometimes his curling up and turning away, or laughing at the screen.
They get to be kids and enjoy a sleepover, eating snacks and throwing them around, laughing so hard they cry, staying up “all night” and then crashing.
Everytime they return to camp they have a new photo of you to hang up. Even as a mortal you are their best friend and they wouldn’t change it any other way.
taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows
-£ this was edited poorly so many mistakes are made because I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open.
#percy x reader#Percy Jackson x reader#platonic percy jackson x reader#platonic Grover underwood#platonic grover underwood x reader#grover underwood x reader#annabeth chase x reader#platonif annabeth chase x reader#pjo x you#platonic x reader
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Heyy there! I just love your ateez reactions so much and I saw that requests were open, so here is mine, I hope that's ok.
So, I've seen this concept a bit with other groups but I never found an ateez one, when they give the reader gf privileges, like the reader kiss them on the cheek and they don't have a problem with that (looking at you, hongjoong) and other things like that they don't let the others members do at all. I just imagine the others being so dramatic about it too lol.
ateez giving their s/o partner privileges
genre: crack, fluff, everything in between
word count: 1.7k
warnings: cursing, wooyoung acting like... wooyoung, sanho bromance, idk its all very chaotic ok??
a/n: there is a LOT of wooyoung in this like he's in most of them because idk he's an icon and i felt like he fit the criteria for most of these so that's that. tysm for your request, this is such a cute and fun idea i love it! sorry it took like 10,000 years for me to do 🧑🦯
hongjoong
wooyoung had his hands on his hips when he found hongjoong cuddled up with you on the sofa. legs folded over yours, arms wrapped around you tightly; he had never seen his leader show this much physical affection before. it was a weird sight to see.
"what do you want," hongjoong peered over your head, which currently lay on his chest, to see wooyoung still watching you both.
"oh," wooyoung said bluntly, "i see how it is."
"what are you on about," hongjoong rolled his eyes.
"i can't even poke your cheek without you squeaming away, but then they are all over you," wooyoung gestures to the cuddling session taking place, his tone exasperated.
hongjoong rolled his eyes and grinned slightly.
"yeah well, they're just better than you," hongjoong stated before placing his chin atop your head as you snuggled down further into his arms.
"why are you acting all jealous, you weirdo" hongjoong added as wooyoung continued to glare.
"disgusting behaviour," wooyoung fake gagged at the two of you being cute together. he'd have to get used to this side of hongjoong because you couldn't help but bring it out of him.
seonghwa
seonghwa had a thing about his hair. in the sense that... he didn't want anyone touching it.
stylists can, sure. but when his members came close to it seonghwa would throw hands. they would always mess it up, especially woosan, who were both rough with him in general and liked pulling on his hair to tease him.
but you're his partner. who was he to deny you of such a pleasure? playing with his hair brought you great joy.
so you sat on the couch, his head in your lap and eyes fluttered closed as he was telling you about his day in his usual calm, low voice. your hands folded through his hair, fingers lacing in between the fibres.
"oh i see how it is" wooyoung and san collectively joined the room to ruin the peaceful atmosphere, "you let them touch your hair but not us?"
you just grinned as you watched your boyfriend's eyes roll dramatically at his friends.
"go away" he mumbled, closing his eyes once more.
before you could stop them, the pair came over and messed up his hair quickly and not-so-gently, making him gasp and sit upright.
"little shits" seonghwa snarled as they ran away chuckling to themselves.
"you love them really," you said with a smile, pulling his head back down gently to your lap as he closed his eyes once more.
yunho
you had many benefits from dating yunho. he was handsome, kind, hilarious... you loved everything about him. but a privilege you have with him is helping him pick out his clothes.
"maybe try this colour tie instead," you handed him a burgundy tie, which seemed to please him.
hongjoong leaned against the door frame, watching yunho slide the tie around his collared neck.
"is this why you don't ask me for fashion advice anymore?" hongjoong pursed his lips as you smirked and winked over at him.
"that," yunho had elegantly twisted his fingers and folded his tie expertly quick, "and the fact that you have a very radical style. too noisy for me, i like things simple."
hongjoong shrugged a bit, "why be boring when you can be bold?"
"why where black when you can wear yellow?" yunho remarked back, grinning at you in the mirror as you stifled a laugh.
"fine, i get it" hongjoong pushed himself off the door frame, "have fun dressing your doll, y/n."
"oh i will~" you hummed, slipping your hands over the shoulders of his suit once he turned around to face you, a small grin still on his lips.
"perfect."
yeosang
"oh look it's mister 'don't touch me'" jongho mused as he came in to find yeosang spread out on the sofa with you hanging onto him like a koala.
"oh hello," yeosang vaguely looked over in his friend's direction "what's your name again?"
"oh you think you're so funny," jongho shook his head as yeosang snuggled into you gently. "i was gonna watch the football game in here."
"go ahead" you piped up, your voice sounding muffled because your face was buried in yeosang's neck. the vibrations of your voice tickled his neck, making him giggle. yeah, you guys weren't going to move anytime soon.
jongho's blank expression didn't change; public displays of affection were not his thing.
"nah forget it," jongho said, "i'll leave you lovebirds in peace."
"good, bye-bye" yeosang yawned and you hit him lightly for being rude, giving him a little glare
"i mean 'nooo, stay with us'" yeosang was so unserious he literally can't go 2 seconds without being sarcastic.
jongho shook his head "i couldn't possibly think of anything worse. having fun!" and he walked out with no other words said.
san
san is quite handsy with everyone he is close to so there's not much he wouldn't do to his members than he does to you.
but he would just concentrate his affection on you a lot more. you'd get all the kisses and cuddles you'll ever need to last you the rest of the year!
and the members noticed this.
"no goodnight kiss?" yunho would ask san in a teasing voice.
"not for you," san grinned sleepily, making his way towards his room, where you were waiting for him.
"wow, you've changed" yunho hummed before going back to his video game. of course, he didn't care, he just wanted to get under san's skin.
and he did. san pouted slightly, feeling guilty that he hadn't shown his friend much affection recently.
"you're just jealous because you don't have a partner" san would say, folding his arms over his chest.
when yunho didn't reply san rushed to him and placed a kiss on his cheek "goodnight" he grumbled and yunho grimaced in disgust, leaning away.
"ewww save that for your partner, lover-boy" yunho grimaced in disgust, leaning away from his affectionate roommate, who looked at him in defeat.
mingi
"stop biting me, wooyoung"
this was the third time mingi had scolded the younger member. yes, wooyoung had the tendency to bite the other members. this did not come as a surprise to you at all. in fact, you found it hilarious.
"you let y/n do it," wooyoung said matter-of-factly as your face flushed. mingi rubbed the back of his head and chuckled shyly.
"yeah, don't think i don't notice the love bites you come home like every other day," wooyoung raised and eyebrow and shrugged. mingi did in fact have one of these love bites laying perfectly on the skin of his neck as he spoke.
"well, that's different, we're dating" mingi protested after his initial embarrassment about being exposed, "you bite me because you... hell, i don't even know why you bite me."
"it's my way of saying i love you" wooyoung gave mingi big wide eyes while you giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your boyfriend.
"i don't care why you do it, and that's gross" mingi's face screwed up into disgust. you hid your face in the crook of his neck as you hid the laughter into his skin.
"why are you in his neck, y/n? wanna bite him again?" wooyoung interrogated as you raised a leg to kick him.
"find someone else to bite, this one's mine" you finally decided to fight back, giving as much attitude as wooyoung was coming out with.
"i don't why anyone has to be me at all, really..." mingi stared at the ceiling, wondering what he had done to deserve this affectionate abuse.
wooyoung
wooyoung was another affectionate member. in fact, he was so affectionate that he broke the physical boundaries the members found normal, to begin with.
"you're all my partners, in a way" wooyoung would gesture to the entire room as the other members groaned, and you sat up next to him with an amused look on your face. it was always fun to see your boyfriend interact with the others the way he did.
"san is my wife, for instance" wooyoung laughed at himself, earning a punch in the shoulder from san, who shook his head, clearly offended. this was the usual behaviour he had to deal with.
"but i love you the most" wooyoung leaned on your shoulder and fluttered his eyebrows as seonghwa let out a little 'aww', the other members rolling their eyes.
"thank goodness. now we don't have to deal with the snoring anymore," jongho remarked as the boys started laughing. wooyoung glared at the younger member playfully.
"what an honour and a privilege," you said in a non-impressed, monotone voice. wooyoung glided an arm over your shoulder.
"it is, isn't it?" wooyoung beamed while you stared at him with the same blank expression.
"i need more wine."
"i'll have some more too~"
"no, alcohol makes you snore louder!"
jongho
jongho is another member who isn't as affectionate as the rest. but he finds himself being different nowadays, because he is dating you. you've definitely softened him, he usually initiates most of the physical affection between you both!
"look at you two," mingi teased, playfully, grinning at the two as you walked arm in arm. you were currently on a walk with all the other members and they all couldn't help but notice how jongho was so open with his affection for you.
"what are you looking at?" jongho whined at his hyung, but his grip tightened on your arm. you blushed lightly at this warm gesture.
"you guys being desperately in love with each other," mingi teased and jongho stared at him with a blank expression. you laughed at this simple exchange.
the 99' liners kept going 'aww' and taking sneaky photos of you two because their precious maknae has found the one.
"leave them alone, guys" seognhwa scolded, but smiled dreamily at the sight of you two. he couldn't help it, you both looked so cute.
"it's nice to see jongho like this," he remarked to hongjoong, who nodded along with him.
you both looked like an exceptionally perfect couple, and the members couldn't get enough of how adorable it all was.
#ateez#atz#kpop#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#atz scenarios#atz imagines#atz x reader#hongjoong#seonghwa#yunho#yeosang#san#mingi#wooyoung#jongho#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho#ateez crack
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Reality Show (Obey Me!)
━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━
Diavolo convinces Lucifer to have him & his brothers do a new demon reality show that revolves around their everyday lives.
»Characters: Demon Bros // ->[Click here for Part 2: Dateables]
»Tags: LUCIFER CAUGHT IN 4K, Shitpost/Humor, Mentions of reader/MC, Husbando Beel Supremacy, Bulleted Style
»Notes: CM = Crew Member ;; Sorry I was gonna upload this sooner but wanted to draw art for it. xD
Lucifer:
"Okay that's enough, go somewhere else."
CM: "We can't, you agreed to this under contract"
sighs
Mildly regretted his loyalty to Diavolo, otherwise he would've never done this
His camera crew was always on edge with him
The show stressed him more than usual
Perhaps there were a few embarrassing moments he would prefer not to talk about
Like pushing a door that said pull, forgetting the word spoon and calling it a tiny bowl on a stick
[Camera peeks through Lucifer's study, recording a smiling Lucifer texting on his phone]
CM: "Who were you texting Lucifer? Was it ___? There's been rumors..."
"I was checking the weather."
CM: "You take selfies for the weather?"
Mammon:
"Hey wait stop recordin' this! Not that what we are doin' is illegal!"
His camera crew had a rough time with him
But it made for good television!
He talked shit about Lucifer the most
"Yeah a lotta people dunno this, but Lucifer cries to me all the time! What can I say, I'm a reliable guy!"[Crew zooms in on an unamused Lucifer in the background]
[Cut to Mammon hanging from the ceiling]
"Can someone get me down from here!? HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOIN'!?"
A lot of the crew's clips had shaky movement from running due to multiple mammon situations
They got a great swoon-worthy shot of Mammon gazing lovingly at you
CM: "Maybe you should confess?"
"I'm confessin' to nothin'! Talk to my lawyer!"
CM: "That's not what we- Nevermind."
Levi:
"I already stream online so this isn't any different."
lol
Levi didn't realize they'd be watching his every move
How was he suppose to worship his shrine of Ruri and you in front of them!?
His camera crew couldn't stop cringing around the otaku
it was uncomfortable for everyone
[Camera films secret sweet moment of him awkwardly practicing asking if you want to hang out]
He asked for it to be deleted, it was denied
However his ratings shot up after that clip and the next one:
CM: "Do you have a crush on ___?"
"W-what!? N-no!!! (Incoherent Levi noises and he trips)"
That clip became a viral meme for weeks
I'm talking remixes and everything
In the end his camera crew actually did have a lot of fun with him and they game online together now
Satan:
"Watch your step. Oh, don't touch that!"
His camera crew had a difficult time with him
He managed to avoid them frequently so he wasn't overly present in the show, much to the annoyance of Lucifer and the others
If they did catch him, all the clips looked the same, all he did was read
They did manage to catch him feeding some stray devildom kitties
[Camera zooms in on him in his room with a collared cat on his lap]
CM: "I thought you couldn't have pets?"
"It's not mine. Clearly, I can't control what comes in my room as of late."
CM: "It has a collar?"
"Next question."
CM: "What can you tell us about the Anti-Lucifer League?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Next question."
CM: "Okay... viewers want to know what's up with you and ___?"
[Satan opens a book and gets sucked in]
Asmo:
"It's like, Devilgram Live, but longer!"
Most unbothered out of everyone
He did get annoyed when they tried to catch him before he could start his morning beauty routine
He was scary, they caught it on camera...it was the only time the crew deleted a clip on a brothers request
Overall his crew had an easy time, it was standard to what they normally do, Asmo himself was fun
He was a natural, of course everyone loved him, who wouldn't?
Was the one to start drama for the sake of tv
Nothing too crazy just messed with Luci's schedule, got Mammon arrested, hid Levi's Ruri body pillow, little things really!
[Camera catches Asmo cuddling next to you]
CM: "You seem very fond of them!"
"I am! Oh maybe we can do like a one year WEDDING special later on!?"
Beel:
"Just don't get in my way I guess."
He wasn't really on board with the idea but not much he could do
His crew had an average time with him, he was easy and chill to film
They caught him doing a lot of activities like, cooking/baking, sports, gaming, it was surprising to viewers
His work out clips got a lot of views too, he was a busy demon
They filmed him helping around the house, even cleaning your room and leaving you little gift snacks
CM: "Wow, snacks? You must really like ___!"
"Yeah. I love them. I want to give them the world."He confidently admitted, smiling brightly
Had high ratings in the polls, the show gave everyone a new perspective of him who wasn't just a gluttonous beast
Belphie:
CM: "Is he breathing?"
"Zzz..."
The crew had an easy but boring time with him
There's only so many hours of a sleeping Belphie you can record
The were some soft serene moments with him,Beel and you, gazing at the stars
[Camera catches him sleeping, smiling and mumbling something about you]
CM (poking): "Belphie wanna share what you were dreaming about? We heard you call their name. "
"Only if the network agrees to air it unfiltered. It will be very descriptive."
CM:
CM: "That's a wrap guys."
⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me shitpost#obey me humor#obey me headcanons#obey me hcs#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me fic#obey me crack#obey me imagines#◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#shitpostcifer
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i wanted to experiment with dave and buck fits and how they might dress if they didn’t have a dress code. some thoughts on the design process below :’D
i want to keep dave’s rose motif going strong in my art bc i feel like the rose at the end of his cutscene is really important to his character. the music note pin on his lapel is based off my chum @megalophobic-astronomer’s headcanons :]
he also has a big, bold zoot suit because i feel like it represents him very well. the butterfly collar is always a must and a staple of my design for him lol. golden box chains around his neck and hanging from his waist are mostly me projecting my taste upon him but i think he would wear chains and jewelry pretty regularly!
buck is all over the place bc i wanted to incorporate a bunch of different styles into one mess of a fit. my main inspirations boil down to Punk Butch at Poker Night lol. i think buck’s taste extends far past this look, and we know he wears a suit well, but i think he would be very adventuresome in his style. at the end of the day, i want him to look rambunctious, jagged and fun.
along with the built in chip dispensers in his arms, he also wears a vintage coin dispenser on his belt, card pouches organized by suit on his thigh, and fuzzy dice for luck on his key ring. this guy jangles! oh, and i’ve had lots of hcs about buck’s body for a while but haven’t drawn them too much yet. here’s a kind of outdated ref that still stands
he has a [convoluted and under-referenced] card shuffler in his chest and a roulette wheel in his belly because i said so <3 the gold trim and detailing is inspired by vintage slot machines and i wanted to give him a kind of cheap tin look.
i don’t have all my hcs for dave’s body drawn out yet, but i’m thinking of giving him accordion bellows in his lower torso and i know for sure he has radio dials on his forearms along with more speakers on the top side. i want to cram as many musical motifs as possible into his design and hopefully i will come up with more ideas for buck too!
#ttcc#dave brubot#buck ruffler#the duck shuffler#the major player#toontown: corporate clash#giddly’s art#no id#ttcc fanart
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One guy. Er, I mean two, no, no! Four, four completely different guys, no correlation between them, no sir!
Started this around same time as this KID one. It should be same style proportion-wise. As I was messing around for fun/on purpose of finding something that more cartoony? simpler in flow?
Anyways, the design/style notes/thoughts under the cut, I did put lots of my exhausted braincells into Kaito/KID difference
Overall style inspos:
1) "I need to think of Sonic but like more human-y"
2) Miho Shimogasa (PPGZ/Kaito Joker/BatuSpi Toppa Bashin)
3) PSWG and SPvsW lol kinda, just from my head how I remembered em though
>Cone and Shin: Originally wasn't planning on putting shadows in his eyes, but without em he's straight up "People with blue eyes" meme. Creepy too much.
Neat and sharp a bit.
Cone is a pain to size correctly. I think I kinda got it right? But maybe he should had been just tad taller? You never know if he's like 95cm or 1m and something
Side note, but Cone's shoes really make me think of Sonic's-
>Shin and Kaito: Neat and bit sharp vs more laid back and messy. Also more puffy/round on corners? I basically want him to have puffy sleeves/sleeves that got some volume to em because it fits the magician in my eyes. Adds to hands/arm movement
Also Shin's eyes of more your blue/dark blue shades, while Kaito's of blue-ish purple
That's to say, I imagine/think Shinichi is the one who hunches more, while Kaito is the one who tends to lean back a bit/keep posture mostly straight (if he ain't sleeping in class lol)
>Kaito and KID: Kinda pathetic and messy vs your perfect phantom thief. More shadowy/half-closed eyes vs "oh he's bright awake and ready to go stupid go crazy". Some guy vs the charisma itself. That's to say, shadows cover Kid's visible eye most of the time. And he also has that grin...or his mouth hidden at all.
His hair appears bit more fluffier and neater, too.
I also tried to keep that juxtaposition with Shinichi of "more sharps vs more round" with him as well.
Overall, I like the thought of what if Kaito was more loser in canon, as in less people in school liking him, pitying for his family situation, etc, no entirely of course, because it's simply him, but feel it be more fun in contrast with Kid (and Shinichi)
Also, for Kid's cape...just didn't felt like drawing it here, you can excuse me, right?
I think that's all I have to say, but if there's anything ya wanna point out/hear, please ask away!~
#dcmk#detective conan#magic kaito#kaitou kid#kaito kuroba#kudo shinichi#edogawa conan#mecha's shitty doodles#anyway uh if anyone wants to ref those either for style or just to color pick the palette go ahead#also my friend said this style made her think of those old vns from saturn/psx/pc engine of that time and it makes me happy#i'd love to try and mb do some fakescreenshots in that style...if i know how </3 and also what plot to put there#alas i am not good of a writer
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Baji x his everything* ੈ✩‧₊˚
Baji x Black fem reader
Spiderverse is to him as Sanrio is to you. You cannot tell me he didn't go see the Spiderverse movies and absolutely fall in lovee
Contents: Fluff!
Spiderman bf x Sanrio Gf all the way. He made you binge the spiderman movies with him. He likes all of them, but specifically Spiderverse movies with Miles?? Yeah its over for him. You guys have matching spiderman x Hello Kitty inspired bracelets that he is NEVER seen without. He also loves to quote shit from the movie, even if it's corny and makes you side eye him.
"I'm going through a canon event rn"
"Toman avoided a canon event"
"Nah, Imma do my own thing"
"I'll take it from here"
"I'm literally spiderman wym"
Like....Ok Baji. But it's cute. He just adores Miles Morales and you fuel his spiderman addiction like he fuels your sanrio addiction.
He likes when you play in his hair. He relaxes with his head in your lap like a cat, and if you play with his hair long enough, you'll send him to sleep. By the way, he's the type of boyfriend to suddenly surprise you by just randomly leaning all of his weight onto you...Beware of that.
He loves your hair. He's pretty good at detangling, but he can't get the hang of styles. He comes over to hang out and bother you whenever you do your hair though. Or he visits you at the hair salon to bring you food. The same with when you get your nails done at the nail salon. However, if he isn't with you when you get your nails done and you don't tell him that you got them done, give him one to two business days to notice. In his defense, he's way too wrapped up in your presence and making eye contact with you to look at your nails.
Lots and lots of food dates. If there's one thing that boy can do it's eat. Also, while he does like to be romantic for you, you two find adventurous and interesting dates better than static restaurant dates. Im talking things like axe throwing, rage rooms, laser tag, arcade's. Things of that nature. Baji loves having fun with you, its when you smile the brightest.
The type of boyfriend that likes to snoop around your room. Not in an intentionally invasive 'trying to catch my partner cheating' kind of way, but he thinks you and all the stuff you have are interesting. He's always asking you what something is, poking at the books on your bookshelf, comparing your eyelash curler to mideval torture devices ect. He'll also place your plushies on your head, and he probably has tried to wear your bonnet at least once..
When he starts acting up during Toman meetings, they send him to you LMAO. Either to your house, or over to wherever you're sitting/standing at the time. They like to joke that when Baji hasnt gotten his daily dose of you, he starts tweaking and acting worse than normal, so they get you to remind him to be on his best normal civilian behavior.
Baji is proud of his ranking and involvement with Toman. He's proud to show you off to all his friends, and he likes to see his lover and his friends mesh so well. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. However, in times that tensions arise, he's a little more cautious with you. He's certainly had a nightmare or two that something happened to you. He's even given you his Toman jacket with his name on it to wear whenever you have to walk home from school if he isn't there for some reason to walk with you. He wants everyone to know that if they mess with you, they mess with him. And forgiveness is automatically ruled out if someone so much as lays a finger on your head without your permission.
He likes to eat your chapstick/lipgloss??? He immediately pounces on you whenever he sees you reapply, especially if he recognizes the little tube with his favorite flavors. He'll kiss you all over, but paying specific attention to your lips. He might even nibble on your lips. Not even in a sexual way, but it's like candy to him and you have to shove his face away if you want any remnants of your lip products to remain on.
It's the same when you wear cocoa butter. He learned from past experience that unfortunately, your cocoa butter lotion does not taste as good as it smells, but that doesn't stop him from occasionally biting you with his sharp ass teeth whenever he's bored or you aren't paying enough attention to him. He just does it to annoy you at this point, but never enough to actually hurt you.
He's the type of boyfriend to say 'no' when you ask him to do it, and then immediately do it. Also says shit just to mess with you.
"You know I went to juvie once? I gave two guys there a concusion."
"Seriously? What'd you go for?"
"I set a whole apartment complex on fire."
"....Are you lying?"
"yeah"
He will occasionally bring you flowers, but more often, he prefers to bring you other interesting trinkets. He doesn't like the idea that his proclamations of his love (the flowers) end up dying. So he takes to getting you other things. Plushie bouquets, lego flowers to put together, origami he made forced chifuyu to help him make ect.
He takes the sidewalk rule seriously. He doesn't want you get hurt at all, and he also stares down any guys that are up to no good. He's 10000% ready to fight for you.
However, if its raining and your hair is in a protective style, he's definitely gonna try and move the umbrella/pull you out in the rain to mess with you. He's like an orange cat that requires to cause mischief....constantly. He likes play fighting with you, and OCCASIONALLY will let you win. He tries and act like he isn't ticklish himself, but if you tickle him mid wrestling, its almost a certified win for you. He's also down for any tiktok trend you wanna try and film with you.
All in all, He's definitely an orange cat kind of guy. Whenever you tease him about his little k-9's poking out unconsciously, he WILL blush. But honestly, its one of the cutest things about him. He's a very physical boyfriend, and loves to roughhouse. Whenever you're not around, he gets pretty restless and bored....He's also more prone to getting in trouble. Even his mom notices you keep him in line. It's kind of cute.
A/n: BAJI STANS RISE 🗣🗣🗣 I was rewatching tokyo revengers and the way his little tooth can be seen poking through is SO CUTE. We need to bring back an era with more baji x readers that aren't just straight smut
Rb's are appreciated! I'd love to reach a bigger audience <3
My Requests are: Open!
#🍒︎writes#baji keisuke#baji x reader#Baji x black reader#Tokyo Revengers x black reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x reader#tokyo rev x black reader#anime#black reader#x black reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x you#tokyo revengers fluff
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Could we get a mix of 27, 28, and 40 with the moonknight guys! Love your work! xx -V
ooooo had a lot of fun with this one!! request more kisses from this list!
pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader
summary: you go to steven's work event with the boys. aka, the boys + a comforting kiss (#40), a sloppy kiss (#28), and a soft kiss (#27).
warnings: none! only fluff <3
word count: 1.3k
MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS
Warm, low-hanging lights are strewn throughout the ballroom, and chatter fills the air. The band’s playing something jazzier than they were at the start of the evening, and you can see the effect it’s having on Steven’s coworkers with the increasing sway of their hips.
Well, that, and all free drinks are probably hitting them by now.
There’s no sign of Steven, though; his neatly styled curls and the sharp lines of his suit are nowhere to be found. You frown. He was only supposed to be away for a few moments while he grabbed some water.
“Excuse me,” you smile before slipping away from the group you were talking to. He’s been gone a little too long to have been in the washroom, and you’re awkwardly peering at the door when you feel your phone buzz.
I’m outside.
It’s quieter in the courtyard, a small gardenesque area with shrubs and park benches lining the edges of a lawn. You spot him instantly. His back is to you, arms crossed as he leans against lamplight. But there’s a stiffness in his shoulders that’s a bit much for your Stevie.
“Hey, Marc,” you greet and he startles, tension easing from his body as you rest your hands on his chest. Steven’s tie hangs loosely around his neck, and a curl falls onto his forehead from how much he must’ve been messing with his hair. “You okay? Didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”
“Neither did I,” he mutters, scowling over your shoulder towards Steven’s work event. The bright lights and busy crowds—it’s all precisely what Marc tends to avoid. You cup his cheek, worried, and his gaze finds yours again. “I’m fine. Just needed some air. Steven should be back soon.”
There’s an unsaid or else at the end of that last sentence and you snort, leaning forward to brush your nose against his. His arms come up to wrap around your waist; his hands clench into fists behind your back.
“I’ll wait out here with you, then,” you say. You feel Marc tense up underneath you as he readies himself to absolve you of the responsibility, to tell you to just go back inside and enjoy the party, but you’re faster.
You tug lightly at his neck, and he folds easily under your touch—always willing to do whatever you ask of him—until you’re able to press a gentle kiss against his forehead. He lets out a long breath, clutching at your back to keep you close as his eyes flutter shut.
“As long as you need.” You affirm, and Marc nods mutely. Through half-lidded eyes, he’s far more at ease than when you first found him, looking at you so softly like you hold his heart in your hands, like you’re the cure for all his ailments.
Like you give him peace.
-
Steven’s not one to get drunk very often, and you’re beginning to see why.
“C’mon, Stevie.” You tug lightly on his arm as he waves over his shoulder, still saying goodbye to his coworkers even as you’re trying to escort him home. An exasperated smile pulls on your lips. “Let’s get to you to bed.”
“Wasn’t that a blast, love? I can’t believe they got Dr. Ibrahim as the keynote speaker, oh, her work is incredible—” All the alcohol has loosened his lips, and no amount of stumbling over his words stops his thoughts from streaming out anyway. If Steven is enthusiastic while sober, then he’s positively beaming now.
He continues to babble into the night. You hum in affirmation as you eye the streets for a cab, cool air nipping at your skin. It’s colder than you thought it would be. You’d forgone a jacket in the name of fashion and look at you now, rubbing your arms in a lame attempt to generate some heat.
Steven acts immediately. One second, you’re yearning for the warmth of a car interior and the next, Steven’s suit jacket is draped onto your shoulders from behind. His hands, still gripping the lapels, wrap around your torso in a hug as he bundles you up like a cocoon and proceeds to not let go.
“Steven—” You laugh as his weight presses down on you, his breath warm against your ear. He pulls you impossibly closer so that you feel the entire length of him against your body, then cranes his neck to press sloppy kisses on your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—anywhere his lips can reach. You splutter. “We gotta get home!”
“In a bit,” he promises in between trailing his kisses down your skin, snickering at how you squirm, ticklish. “Have I told you how lovely you look tonight? Because you look gorgeous—radiant, darling.”
It’s like you can hear the moment when his focus switches from the event to you, and the air is promptly filled with his glowing praise in between the loud smacks of his lips. When he reaches the junction of your neck and shoulder, you think, surely, he’s done now. But all he does is switch to your other side and start his journey anew. “Just—one—more.”
Drunk Steven is a mushy liar, but in the warmth of his embrace, your cheeks straining against how widely you’re grinning—you can’t complain all that much.
-
Steven toes off his shoes as he makes his way through the living room, then promptly faceplants onto the couch.
You can’t help but laugh, prodding at his back in an attempt to stir him. “Steven—Stevie, you’re so close, just a few more steps to the bed, up you come.”
His response is garbled nonsense into the throw pillow, although there’s an intonation in his voice that makes you pause. He continues, words still too muffled to understand, but you can make out the accent more clearly now that you’re looking for it.
“Hang on—Jake? Is that you?”
An affirming groan.
Your hand languidly strokes his back, condoling. “Did Steven leave you to take care of the body?”
Finally, Jake turns his head, and the indignant pout on his face is truly something to behold. “Steven just passed out. Marc is probably mad that I accidentally put him in the driver’s seat earlier.”
“So that’s what happened.” You shake your head. Still, you lightly tug at his arm to try to get him up. “C’mon—it’s bedtime.”
His eyes flutter shut. “Just let me sleep here.”
You quickly do a once-over. Half his body is hanging off the couch, arm and leg resting on the floorboards. His neck is angled in a way that’ll kill whoever wakes up tomorrow morning, and that doesn’t even cover the hangover that’s surely waiting for them. You tug at him again. “Nuh-uh. Let’s go, Lockley.”
Reluctantly, he follows, feet dragging on the ground as you lead him to the bathroom. He complains the whole way through the shower and brushing his teeth, and you do feel a little bad even though it’s for his own good. Exhaustion seeps into his movements, and he nearly knocks over the cup of water on the nightstand as he gets into bed.
You slip in beside him, brushing damp curls away from his face. Already half-asleep, he leans into your touch.
“Can’t believe Steven left me here. ¿Qué te gusta decir? This is cruel and unusual punishment.”
Now it’s your turn to pout, feigning disappointment. “Aw, that hurts.”
You try to remove your hand in order to settle in, but his hand comes to cover yours, keeping you close. Without opening his eyes, he presses a lingering kiss to your palm. A sleepy sincerity has replaced his annoyance. “Cada momento a tu lado es una bendición. Sleep well, darling.”
You can't help but smile back. “Good night, Jake.”
#moon knight x reader#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#jake lockley x reader#moon knight#marc spector#steven grant#jake lockley#moon knight fanfic#my writing#moon knight asked#thank you for requesting !!
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feelings ﹒ jw
synopsis ﹕ the best way to deal with your crush on jeon wonwoo was to avoid him at all costs. now that you're stuck having dinner with him alone, there was no way out.
genre + ﹕fluff, slight comedy, idol!wonwoo, non idol!reader, best friend + matchmaker mingyu, fem reader, reader has a big crush on wonu lol, reader is also an awkward mess, the TINIESTTT bit of angst but that's because reader overthinks a lot
wc ﹕3k
warnings ﹕reader is kinda insecure + compares herself to others
there he was, in all his glory, black hair neatly styled with a simple outfit that consisted of grey sweats and a black t-shirt.
“here’s your chance! go talk to him,” mingyu pushes you in the direction of your crush. you awkwardly stumble over your feet, nearly falling. your crush, jeon wonwoo, whips his head towards you.
your heartbeat grows louder, your ears growing hot as you quickly turn around to avoid eye contact.
“what are you doing? go over there,” mingyu eggs you on even more, making your stomach do uncomfortable flips.
yes — you had a crush. as dumb as it sounds, you’ve been absolutely infatuated with jeon wonwoo ever since the day you met him. your best friend, kim mingyu, has been trying to set the two of you up for ages.
unfortunately for you, you could never muster up the courage to even look in wonwoo’s direction. even if he tried to strike up a conversation as you waited for mingyu outside the practice room, you always found a way to avoid him or keep the talk short. you would say it’s one of the worst traits about you.
of course you want to talk to wonwoo, ask how he is or be able to grow closer to him, but you couldn’t. your anxiety would overpower you, resulting in awkward stuttering or statements that didn’t even make sense. or in the worst case scenario, you would find a way to basically run away to do something else if you saw him coming your way.
“i can’t,” you fix your outfit self-consciously, straightening out your pencil skirt. mingyu ruffles your hair playfully, sending you in full panic mode to adjust it.
“he’s coming over here,” mingyu states, drinking out of his water bottle. your eyes grow wide, shambling to stand side by side with mingyu. he smiles, trying to hold back a laugh.
mingyu was right, wonwoo was walking towards you two. you can’t move, your feet feel planted in place as a hundred thoughts race through your mind. wonwoo’s face lights up as he gets closer.
“y/n, nice to see you,” he greets you, earning a nervous smile from you. mingyu elbows your side subtly, reminding you to say something.
“hi,” you say quietly, making you internally face palm at yourself. he looks so pretty even after dancing for hours, his forehead glistening with sweat and his skin glowing. he adjusts his black rimmed glasses, pushing them up. you can’t help but admire him, his brown orbs fixate on you as you continue to stare.
mingyu clears his throat, wonwoo’s eyes flicking towards his direction instead. “y/n and i were just about to go get food.”
“yum yum,” you say out of nervousness. you cringe at yourself.
you shift your attention to mingyu, who is already looking at you with a smug grin.
“y/n is really hungry but sadly i’m really tired and i just want to sleep,” mingyu tells wonwoo, with a fake frown on his face as he keeps his eyes on you. you furrow your brows, glaring at him with an ‘i’m going to kill you’ look. leave it up to kim mingyu to try and play matchmaker with every opportunity he gets his grip on.
“oh,” wonwoo says, “i don’t mind going with you, y/n.”
you step on mingyu’s foot, making him wince in pain. thankfully, wonwoo didn’t notice.
you clasp your hands together, “actually i–”
“great! hope you guys have fun,” mingyu pushes you again, and you almost land straight on the floor. thankfully, wonwoo’s fast reflexes catch both of your shoulders as mingyu runs away to talk to minghao like a little kid.
wonwoo’s touch has your entire face heating up as he looks at you with concerned eyes. “are you okay?”
your breath hitches, straightening your posture quickly while avoiding eye contact. the amount of anxiety coursing throughout your body was unbearable, you could barely even talk to wonwoo. how were you going to sit and have a meal with him alone?
“yeah, i’m fine,” you spew out a white lie. you two begin walking to the back exit of the building to avoid being seen by fans, wonwoo’s keys jingling inside his pocket. you’re nervously obsessing over what to say, or if you should speak at all.
the lights of the building hum quietly, but it’s barely audible as conversations from many different people tune it out. wonwoo adjusts his hair and puts on a face mask, giving you a chance to steal a glance at him. his presence alone has your heart skipping beats, as you imagine all the possible outcomes of your small little outing together.
you reach the exit, wonwoo politely holding the door out for you. your lingering embarrassment still has a hold on you, making you stare at the ground and mutter a “thank you” in a small voice.
“is there a restaurant you have in mind?” wonwoo’s voice breaks the silence, making a small part of you jump. he sticks his hands inside of his pockets, still walking alongside you, but head fully turned towards your way.
“no, you can choose,” you try to reply in the sweetest voice you could find within your vocal chords.
his face lights up, “hm, let’s go to homulang then. it has ramen, katsu, a lot of japanese cuisine. is that okay with you?”
you respond with the nod of your head, butterflies erupting within you because you were merely walking with him. no one else, just the two of you. you were still slightly irritated with mingyu because you knew that the only things coming out of your mouth would be short sentences every once in a while, or nothing at all.
you truly couldn’t help it, after all, wonwoo has millions of fans all over the world and probably a lot of other idols who find him cute. insecurity would eat you up constantly with the thought of dating wonwoo, or even just trying to explain how you feel to him. he’s also way too busy, you didn’t want to trouble him with anything else.
it’s still quite early in the evening, 6:14 pm to be exact. the sun shines down onto the pavement, clouds scattered in the blue sky. you walk by civilians on the street, no one paying attention to you two as your feet pat against the gray concrete. the cars driving past you result in a slight breeze, but it’s satisfying in the hot weather.
you feel the urge to run away building up inside of you. there’s only one thing going through your mind; holy shit, i’m hanging out with wonwoo! you feel self conscious just standing next to him, wanting to cover your face or wrap your arms around yourself.
once the restaurant is in your field of vision, you grow more tense. you straighten out your posture, adjusting your hair. he reaches out to open the door for you once again, letting you inside first. the waiting area is crowded, which means you have to stay close to wonwoo. you feel his hand rest against your back, causing you to swallow harshly.
the hostess greets the two of you with a smile, her eyes lingering on wonwoo as he removes his mask.
“table for two, please,” wonwoo tells her politely. her face lights up, grabbing a hold of two menus.
“great! right this way please.”
gosh, it feels like everything is finally beginning to sit within you. you’re going to be sitting here, with wonwoo. talking. for at least an hour. you feel sick just admitting it.
he pulls your chair out for you, and you can’t say you’re surprised. you didn’t fall for him solely for his good looks, in fact, you very well loved how much of a polite person he was.
the hostess walks away, bright smiles directed to wonwoo only. you awkwardly bite the inside of your cheek, taking note of how gorgeous she looked. wonwoo didn’t seem to pay much attention to her longing gaze though, just casually opening the menu.
“oh my god! y/n?”
a voice startles you. it doesn’t make it any better since your senses are heightened due to the amount of anxiety pitting inside of you. your head snaps towards the voice, and you’re staring up at a woman with long black hair and a grin.
“seoyeon,” you breathe out, standing up to give her a hug. wonwoo watches your interaction in silence, grazing his fingertips along the plastic menu.
“it’s so great to see you! you look so different, in a good way! you’re so pretty,” she gushes. you can’t help but shyly look down, bowing your head slightly to thank her.
“you look great, too. by the way, this is wonwoo,” you introduce him, making his eyes shoot up to hers.
“nice to meet you,” he says.
seoyeon was an old friend of yours from high school — she was well adored by everyone and not to mention extremely desired. you wouldn’t say you were the best of friends with her, but you were quite close.
“oh sorry, am i interrupting something?” she inquires innocently. you open your mouth for a moment, awkwardly looking between the two of them and waving your hands.
“n-no,” you’re able to stutter out. “but other than that, what brings you here?”
she points to her name tag sitting upon the shirt of her uniform. “y’know, duty calls! but i’ll leave the two of you alone now. let me know when you’re leaving though! i want to talk to you again.”
she waves goodbye, walking to another customer’s table. that leaves you with no one other than wonwoo. you look at him for a moment, his eyes already on you. you force yourself to look back down, but you can see the small smile he has on his face from the corner of your eye.
he exhales softly, “what are you getting?”
you don’t say anything for a second. oh no, is this a test? is he asking me to see if we have things of similar interest? what if i answer wrong? i should say i’m getting the prawns— wait no, he hates seafood!
“i think i’m going to get the pork cutlet,” you answer firmly. wonwoo lets out a small chuckle, which sounds like absolute music to your ears.
“it’s just me, don’t worry. you can be yourself.”
that was the problem, it’s just him. the guy you’ve been crushing on for years. you can’t just be normal, because every time you try to even say something to him, you feel like wrapping yourself in a dozen blankets and hiding forever.
you’re so caught up in your own thoughts you accidentally knock over your cup of water, not even registering it at first. it’s not until wonwoo’s gripping at the napkins, scrambling to clean up the mess, is when you finally notice it.
your eyes widen, standing up in your chair as you try to help him. you could just cry right now, not only were you terrible at conversation starters, but you utterly embarrassed yourself in front of wonwoo.
“i’m so sorry,” your voice shakes, wiping aggressively at the dripping water.
“it’s okay,” wonwoo tries to reassure you while standing to assist in cleaning. in your mind, it’s just the gentleman in wonwoo trying to not make you feel bad. there’s just too much happening around you, it makes you want to burst into tears.
“i’m sorry,” you repeat yourself, hands shaking.
“y/n,” he says softly, all while placing his hand on yours. “i promise it’s okay.”
his kindness makes you calm down a bit. after about three more “i’m sorry's”, and wiping the remaining water, you sit back down.
wonwoo adjusts his glasses once more when he takes his seat again, trying to see if you were still shaken up. you know that he doesn’t understand why you’re so on edge, but you can tell that he’s trying to make you feel better. in reality, you’re just overthinking absolutely every movement you make.
you are aware that this dinner would feel like hell for you, even if you were spending time with the one guy you hold admiration for. it didn’t matter, because you were already here. you were sure that if you came up with a lame excuse to leave, wonwoo would see straight through your lie.
so whether you like it or not, you were going to have to power through this.
—
surprisingly, tonight was not that bad. in fact, you and wonwoo ended up staying at the restaurant for longer than one hour. you learned a lot about him, some things you already knew, but others you didn’t.
he talked about how initially, he was a vocalist. it wasn’t until people commented on how good his rapping was, did he start to look more into it. he told you all of his book recommendations when he heard you loved to read, and although you couldn’t completely get over your nerves, you still had a good time.
“thank you for uh, coming to get food with me,” you tell wonwoo awkwardly, waiting for the bill to arrive.
“it was fun. i hope you talk to me more in the future though, because i thought you disliked me,” he admits. your eyes widen, shaking your head.
“no, no! it’s not that.. i’m just.. bad at talking,” you half lie, mumbling quietly. wonwoo lets out a sigh of relief, “that makes me feel a bit better.”
the reason it was a half lie was because you were bad at talking, just only to wonwoo. with the other members you were fine, but every time he came up to you, it felt like all your speaking abilities would run out the door.
your waitress finally comes back with the bill, bringing a card machine with her. you open up your bag, taking your debit card out.
“i’ll pay,” wonwoo offers, also holding one of his cards out.
“please don’t, i’ll feel really bad if you do,” you immediately decline his offer. you reach to tap your card on the machine, but wonwoo is faster. he beats you to it, thanking the waitress.
“hey! i said don’t!”
wonwoo shrugs his shoulders, “you’ll pay next time then.”
his words affect you in two different ways. on one side, you’re squealing internally because wonwoo is actually interested in hanging out with you again. on the other side, you’re overthinking everything, wondering if you’re going to embarrass yourself like today.
the both of you gather your things to leave, walking to the door. you tell wonwoo you have to say goodbye to your friend first though, walking towards seoyeon who is organizing receipts at one of the registers.
“hi, i’m about to go,” you pipe up, making her look towards you.
“oh! before you leave, i wanted to ask about your friend, wonwoo,” she informs you. your heart beats a little faster, dreading what she is about to ask.
“is there anything going on between the two of you? because you know.. he’s really good looking..”
of course seoyeon was interested in wonwoo. after all, that was just your luck. and you couldn’t really lie to her, that would be unfair to both her and him. because no matter how you look at it, there really wasn’t anything going on between the two of you. you were just friends. or at least, wonwoo thought so.
all you had was a crush on wonwoo, a crush that you were never able to build up confidence to pursue. this was quite literally the only time you and him had gotten to spend time together alone. plus, you believe seoyeon and wonwoo would be great together. you’re too awkward and can barely speak to him, and she’s so confident.
so as much as it pains you to answer, you shake your head no.
“oh thank goodness, i didn’t want you to think of me as a homewrecker or anything,” she laughs. she quickly writes her number on a napkin, handing it to you. you reluctantly take it, cursing yourself for not having enough courage to confess to him.
you quickly say your goodbyes, leaving the restaurant to find wonwoo. he’s standing outside, waiting for you as you walk out.
“you’re choosing the place next time, by the way,” he states. you nod your head, holding the napkin in your hand.
“what’s that?” he asks you. you stare down at it, getting more upset with yourself by the second.
“my friend wanted me to give me your number,” you breathe out, “she asked me if there was something going on between us.. i said no and she asked me to give you this.”
“oh, i see,” wonwoo replies, almost sounding disappointed. you begin to panic again.
“i’m sorry! i should’ve said that you don’t have time for dating or that you um.. you weren’t interested, but i didn’t give her any of your information so don’t worry.”
“it’s not that,” he tells you, taking the napkin from your hand and folding it neatly. “i just thought that there was something going on. with us.”
“oh,” is the first thing that pops up in your head. you don’t even notice what he said at first, only being thankful that he wasn’t mad at you for trying to set him up with a friend of yours.
but then it hits you.
“...oh.”
you’re honestly at a loss for words. he had to be joking, god, you really hoped this was some really cruel joke. if it wasn’t, that means wonwoo was somewhat interested in you, and actually perceived you as a person (something you did not want).
“um.. ah.. wow.. you’re cool! wait— not just cool, i really like you, wait no, not really like you. like normal person like you. no that’s not right either, i like you more than just normal person liking!”
he can’t help but stifle a laugh, placing an arm over your shoulder. you stand frozen, eyes wide while he looks down to you. when the hell did his face get that close?
“i know you do,” he smiles.
“but i thought you thought i disliked you?”
“well,” he starts as you two start walking in the direction of the dorms, “i decided all those times you were avoiding me or having trouble speaking were either because you hated me, or you liked me.. you told me otherwise, hence why i know you have a little crush on me.”
you go silent, the nerves taking over you once again. wonwoo knew? and not only that, wonwoo didn’t find it weird. in fact, he actually reciprocated your feelings. you’re too busy trying to wrap your head around everything that you don’t realize how he presses a quick peck to your forehead.
when you do come to terms with it, your face and ears begin to heat up. your heart is racing, your entire head on cloud nine. wonwoo smiles to himself, proud that he made you flustered.
“oh my god,” you whisper to yourself.
“i’ll kiss you for real, next time.”
“oh okay— wait, what?”
#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonwoo oneshot#wonwoo imagine#jeon wonwoo fanfic#jeon wonwoo fluff#jeon wonwoo angst#jeon wonwoo imagine#jeon wonwoo oneshot#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#seventeen imagine#svt#wonu#markberries
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Giant Fucking List of Obscure Video Games I Recommend!
It's finally done!! Took me long enough, but here it is. Over 50 games I recommend. Just in time for the Steam Sale. Holy shit I spent way to much time on this.
Some of these are well known to anyone into the indie/AA gaming scene or just on the internet often, but I still felt the need to mention in case people haven't heard of them. All of these are obscure compared to any AAA game and I'm confident no one would have heard or played all of these.
They all have something I found interesting in someway. I was going to include a trailer for each game, but apparently Tumblr doesn't like that. So I have put a link to a Youtube playlist for all of them in the same order as this list. Some of these games are also on various consoles to, but I can confirm they're all on Steam beyond one.
I only picked games I've played personally. I know of many other good obscure games, but haven't tried or bought them yet so they don't get on the list. Also many games on this list remain unfished to me, but that's more due to time and other life shit then them getting bad.
There's a lot of fucking games In this list so hopefully you find something you've never tried before and give it a shot. All these games are on Steam with one exception, but that's a free game. I also organized them by genres that make perfect sense to me.
Trailers Link:
The Best Game Ever:
Outer Wilds
Fuck it let's just start with the only mandatory game on this list you need to play. You know how nearly every space game is a overpromised underdelivered fucking mess? Like all of them.
Outer Wilds is the actual good one. Don't want to say much more then that. This is very much an experience that you need to know as little as possible to get the best experience. Not even linking the trailer in the playlist.
Absolutely play this game if you had to pick only 1 thing on this list.
EarthBoundLikes:
OMORI
OMORI is a game about a group of kids who go on magical adventures and save the day. That's it. Nothing else sinister going on here.
It's a well known indie game and for good reason. It's fucking good. One of my favorite games of all time.
Art style is peak. A mix of pixel and pencil drawn art that works so damn well for me. The battle system is turn based and revolves around changing emotions and teamwork. It mixes a happy child like vibe with a darkness underneath it, which is right up my alley. A tale of trauma and grief. I'm still fucked up thinking about some story bits in there.
All the characters are wonderful and the story is helped a lot by keeping it focused on a small group of friends.
Play it.
LISA: The Painful and LISA: The Joyful
LISA: The Painful/Joyful are a pair of games that fuck. They fuck hard.
They're morbid, tackle many taboos, and have a dark but also stupid sense of humor. The visuals are nothing groundbreaking, but this isn't a game that needs perfect pristine pixel art. The combat system is a lot of fun, but takes very clear inspiration from Earthbound. The story is just perfect though.
You play Brad whos on a journey to rescue his adoptive daughter who was kidnapped in a post apocalyptic world of only men. You meet the strangest allies and the game has a lot of odd characters in it. Want a lawyer fish in your party? This game has it.
It does not shy away from throwing punches and is not for anyone who can't handle a story that tackles themes of abuse, depression, suicide, and more. The game also has a sequel I don't want to say to much about, but it's absolutely worth it as well.
If you want a fun and fucked up 2D RPG adventure and somehow haven't played this then please do so.
Mandatory Metroidvania Soulslike Indie Game Darlings:
Ender Lilies: Quietus of the Knights
Ender Lilies is the first of many metroidvania's on this list. The indie scene is filled with them and for good reason. The formula works so damn well.
What I love about Ender Lilies is the concept of the player character. You play a white priestess who is also a child and helpless on her own. However, you can summon the spirits of allies and slain enemies to fight for you and those spirits are all your attacks. Gameplay is the same as any other Metroidvania, but knowing I'm this helpless child in this world infected by blight really sells me on the setting.
There's nothing revolutionary to this entry in the pantheon of Metroidvanias, but the visuals and setting are why I recommend it. This game is a slow descent into hell. Also you do get a big heavy hammer attack and any game with a big hammer weapon attack is a good game. Big bonks.
Craving a Metroidvania with a macabre setting? This will do it.
GRIME
GRIME is something else. I don't hear anyone talk about this game and it's a damn shame. I don't even know how to even describe GRIMEs setting. You play as essentially a sentient black hole on a rock body. You go through, with lore slowly revealed as is the Metroidvania stable, and absorb your enemies.
This games aesthetic is best described as fleshy stone. It's very unique visually and what made me want to try it out. As for gameplay you'll need to learn parrying as this games combat system heavily relies on it.
This game surprised me and has a entire level I never expected with one very unique boss to top that off. Also be warned. This game is very much a platformer as well. Similar to how the Ori games are, not just pure combat challenges. If you like your metroidvanias with little to no platforming then you won't enjoy parts of this game, but nothing as difficult as things in Hollow Knight.
If you enjoy metroidvanias then this is a must play. More people need to talk about it.
Salt and Sanctuary
This is where it all started. Certainly not the first Metroidvania by any means, but the first 2D Soulslike Metroidvania or at the least first advertised as such. The devs intended to make Dark Souls in 2D and they did it. Before Hollow Knight, the games listed above, or so many others that took inspirations from Souls in the 2D world, was this game. I know this game was popular with the souls community as it came out, but I don't really hear about it anymore. Hollow Knight just dominated all discussion.
The controls and combat are very much Dark Souls but in 2D. The lore is cryptic and hidden away. There's a fuckton of weapons and spells and multiple playthroughs worth of stuff. The game is hard though Hollow Knight would easily one up it in terms of difficulty.
This game also has covenants that are actually good and the mechanics around them are vastly improved over any souls game that has covenants. I won't go into detail, but I wish the souls games copied this games mechanics for that.
The setting is high fantasy with the lovely dark bloody horror underneath it all. The art style can turn people away, it's not as pretty as other 2D souslikes, but I enjoy it personally. It fits.
The game has a lot to explore and you can get lost in its world pretty easily. I remember walking into a boss room from the exit somehow and got behind the boss and it was all intended if you navigated around him.
If you can appreciate or just get past the visuals and want to see where the 2D soulslike genre began then you should play it.
Metroidvania's Before the Dark Age of Soulslikes
Dust: An Elysian Tail
Long ago there was a time where Metroidvanais didn't have soulslike mechanics defaulted in and set in these bleak post apocalyptic worlds. I have 3 of them to recommend. Starting With Dust: An Elysian Tail
This is a fun little game. A game that I'm not sure many people know about or would think to play today. Metroidvanias pre Hollow Knight tend to get forgotten when I see people about them now. It has a mix of platforming and hectic combat. I remember the game having a cool spin sword attack with a even cooler aerial attack. I liked it a lot when I played it many many years ago.
The art style is colorful and everyone is an anthropomorphic animal. More games need anthropomorphic animals beyond catgirl or rabbitgirl, seriously I grew up on shit like sly Cooper and Ratchet and Clank.
You play as Dust and are accompanied by Fidget. you got a magic sword and you kill a bunch of shit while saving the day. Just a fun little Metroidvania that doesn't overstay and go on forever.
It may be dated in some ways, but if you're a fan of these types of games and want to play a older one then here you go.
Guacamelee!
The combat in this game feel great. Another little forgotten gem of a Metroidvania. It has such a unique style to it and has a fun cartoony vibe. It's pretty fucking great.
You play as a farmer who dons a luchador mask to save his friend he loves and the world being taken over. The combat is a mix of punches, kicks, and throws which is unique from the usual swords and magic these types of games tend to default to. As the game goes along enemies will have shields that need certain moves to break and you'll be switching from the land of the dead and living in combat and platforming.
Both this and Dust before it don't reinvent the genre or anything, but have their own unique charms that I recommend them both if you're a fan of Metroidvanias.
Cave Story+
This is a old classic. The original Cave Story came out in 2004, and was released with a enhanced version in 2011. This is a must play Metroidvania and an old gem. It's the oldest game on this list technically.
This game has little to no melee combat, but instead goes all in on using guns. More Metroid then Vania in that sense. What's unique to the combat is enemies will drop experience that will level up your guns automatically. Each gun can be upgraded to 3 levels, but when you take damage you lose experiences and levels. This adds a extra layer or rewards and punishment to getting hit that I like. Your weapons are perfectly usable at level 1 so it's not like you're fucked, but it gives a greater incentive to avoid damage.
It has fun characters and and fun gameplay. It's a genuine indie gem that I think everyone should play.
Pixel Action Adventure Games With A Dash of RPG Elements to Taste:
ANNO: Mutationem
This game is a pixel art cyberpunk adventure. I adore the art style. It's a 2.5D action platformer set in a futuristic setting. You're on a quest to save your brother with the help of your hacker friend/girlfriend. A quest which leads to a far more complicated story.
The story in this game goes off the rails in ways I love, but I know it threw people off. People have compared the latter half to Evangelion and It can be confusing to follow at times. I still highly recommend it, even if you get lost near the end. A simpler story in terms of Lore would have worked better, but I say fuck it. Go all in.
To me the appeal of this game is the setting. A fascinating cyberpunk sci-fi setting shown through wonderful pixel art. Just walking around the various cities was a joy on its own. There's a lot of attention to detail and I think it's worth playing for that alone. Combat is your standard side-scrolling Metroidvaniaish kind of stuff with various weapons and upgrades and all that. I found it a little challenging at times, but this isn't a game meant for extreme difficulty from what I remember.
If you want to play as hot badass woman in a cyberpunk setting given life through detailed pixel art, then this is the game for you.
CrossCode
This is the most dense indie game on this whole list. CrossCode has so much to do. The game is expansive and slowly drip feeds you with more. You have 5 skill trees, 4 of which are tied to an element, multiple upgrade paths in them. You have a mix of melee combat with twin stick shooter mechanics thrown in. The game has multiple dungeons with puzzles that are both difficult to figure out and then execute the solution for. These aren't like a 2D Zelda dungeon where things never get to complicated, I really took a lot of time with every dungeon.
The setting takes place on another moon physically, but its actually all virtual and a MMO people are playing from all over the galaxy. Though the game itself isn't a MMO really. You play as a set character in a set linear story that's unrelated to that actual in lore story of the MMO.
The characters are fun and the setting is a joy to explore. There's a lot of side content and I don't remember any of it being a drag. This games also challenging and I know It took me a bit to progress at various points. The pixel art is very detailed, especially with the outdoor environments.
This game will keep you engaged for a while and there's challenging DLC and even fun incentives to play new game plus. This is just all around a solid game experience.
Hyper Light Drifter
I played this game a long time ago so details are hazy, but I know I really enjoyed it. It's top down and filled with action. You got a sword. You got a gun. You go kill things and I do remember many challenging combat encounters.
I have forgotten all story elements, but even now I still remember some imagery that reminded me of Evangelion, which is always a plus. Though story was never the main draw to games for me so the setting and combat were all I needed to keep engaged.
Not the most descriptive review of the game, but I know this is one of the furthest game on this list from when I played it and I only went through it once. It's a cool game though and if the trailer enticed you then you owe it to yourself to get it.
Phoenotopia: Awakening
I adore this little hidden gem of a game. If CrossCode is the most dense indie game on this list then this is a very close second. Possibly even more dense, I truly can't decide for sure. It's cute, funny, charming, and full of legitimate challenges.
You play as Gail who lives in a small town village. Some shit happens that I won't give away, but you end needing to travel the land and go on a fun adventure. The story is full of comedic and lively characters. It never takes itself to seriously or gets really dark which Is a nice change of pace.
This game really is an adventure. You will travel a lot and get very familiar with any hub area. There's secrets and puzzles packed all over and gives you good reason to revisit. A nice drip feed of progress is felt as you unlock more stuff.
In terms of combat it's bar far the most simplistic on this list and could even frustrate others, but like everything else in this game it has charm and I adore it. The simple mechanics don't mean no challenge though. I was stuck often, but felt so satisfying when I won.
Some of the late game areas can be bullshit and will frustrate you, but stick with it. This is a genuine top tier hidden indie gem that got no attention. Honestly just under Outer Wilds this would be the other must buy. Absolutely play this.
Vampire Survivorlikes:
20 Minutes Till Dawn
Everyone knows about Vampire Survivor and everyone knows many games came out that tried to capture that style of gameplay. This one is the only one of those I've played and it's wonderful.
You unlock multiple characters and multiple guns with various upgrade trees. Kill the horde, survive, upgrade, survive even longer. Each level only takes 20 minutes, hence the title. I appreciate that as the game would never end with how strong you end up being by the end after you learn the mechanics.
This isn't anything groundbreaking, but if you need to kill half a hour then it's a fun thing to play.
Hawklikes:
Umurangi Generation
Let's fucking go!! This game rules!
As someone who is going to pursue photography more seriously as a hobby this game is perfect. Unlike something like Pokemon Snap or games with photo modes, this game really captures the feeling of holding a physical camera and the moment to moment decisions you make with each shot.
You unlock different lenses and control each shot as you would a real camera. After each photo you can edit it on the spot purely for your own creative reasons. The visuals are low poly and very colorful.
The game has a tony hawk style of progression. A hawklike if you will. You get dropped in a level and are given a list of photos to try and take. You can of course take photos of anything. You have a limited amount of film and can find more throughout the level.
Also there's a story. There's a dark undercurrent to the whole thing and the game is very overtly political in all the right ways. Don't like politics in your games? Fuck you! This game dives right in while still maintaining the core gameplay loop. Need more games like this please.
Please buy this game and it's DLC.
Action Games:
Furi
Top tier action game. It's a boss rush game, that's it. 10 bosses with some vague story that briefly connects them. It's not bloated with bullshit and knows exactly what to focus on.
The combat is a mix of intense melee combat with parries and dodges and the like, with twin stick shooting. No upgrades. No farming. No choosing between this weapon or that. No additional moves or mechanics. You fight a tutorial boss which teaches you everything and then you go. You have the full toolkit from the start and that lets you master it slowly over the game.
It's so fucking satisfying finally winning and knowing you improved and earned that win. I like the story as well. It's not that complex, but the ending bits worked for me.
If you want a genuine good action game that has no bullshit attached then get this.
Amid Evil
There's not much to say about this one other then it's really fucking fun. It's a first person action game where you use magic and weapons to go through combat filled levels. You have health and mana that all weapons use outside of your axe. The levels are filled with secrets, you move fast, and it's just a fun action game.
Sometimes a game isn't more then that and it beats games that are stuffed with unnecessary mechanical bloat. If you want a fun first person action game that's not just a full shooter then this is the game for you.
Adventure Games:
The Cat Lady and Lorelai
I love these games. No one ever talks about them or knows about them and they will certainly linger in your mind. The devs have made 2 other games that I have yet to get to so for now I am recommending only these.
Play The Cat Lady first. It's the first one and tells the story of a very depressed middle aged woman who gets a second chance at life, at a cost.
Lorelai is about a young woman in a very abusive household trying to survive while seeing what lengths she will go to save those she loves.
Both these games revolve around deals with a devil and feature a lot of horrific violence. Fun!
The stories in both evoke a creepy disturbing feeling and you're always on edge. I won't say these are straight horror games, but they sure use horror imagery. The art style really helps sells it. The animations or character models may not be the most beautiful thing around, but it has that indie charm I love. The voice acting isn't perfect either, but these aren't negatives for me. These are passion projects and imperfections are what make any piece of art shine brighter. Real people put their soul into these games and it shows.
The gameplay is standard adventure game fair, but all keyboard controlled. So no endless mouse clicking everything on the screen. which works wonderfully. Though being pure adventure games you're here more for the story then the moment to moment gameplay.
Please play these.
Detention
Detention is probably well known due to the controversy with Red Candle Games other game, Devotion being wiped online for shitty reasons. It's available now on their own websites store, though I still have never played it. I should one day as Detention was pretty fucking good.
The gameplay is the usual 2D adventure game fair. A lot of clicking and puzzle solving with some horror thrown in. The story and setting are where it's at though.
The game is unique in that it's made from Taiwanese devs and the games setting is rooted in their cultures history. I don't want to give away any real details beyond that, but it certainly left an impact and seeing a game not set in Europe, America, Japan, or any fantasy equivalent to those was refreshing. The games also not super long and could easily be beaten in a day.
Go buy it. Play it on a long free night. Support these devs.
Rime
I love the aesthetic of this game. Cel shading indie colorful goodness. I got this for the visuals alone and was very happy the game that came with it was good to. Visuals are a major factor in me getting interested in a game and the reveal trailer was enough for me to play it.
It's very light and cryptic on story for most of it as to be expected from this kind of game. You're a kid, you wake up on a beach and go forth exploring. You solve puzzles and hide from danger and go through each of the unique levels trying to piece together whats going on.
Like the game before, this isn't a super long one. Shouldn't take more then a day or a few to get through it all. Though I do recommend you take your time and explore like I did. Let yourself be immersed in the setting.
This is another example of just a pure perfect indie game. Doesn't overstay it's welcome, tells a simple but cryptic story, and has lovely visuals.
Atominous
This is the one of the few games on this whole list that I would say is truly obscure. In fact I have no doubt this is the most obscure. If you're big into indie games then nothing on this list will honestly surprise you, but I'm confident this is the exception.
In this free game you place as a a little guy who's job is like pest control. Instead of bugs your job is to collect and protect the world from rare atoms called Atominous. Basically little atoms that can alter reality. You go into a big house and your job is to find them through the power of puzzle solving and clicking every little thing you see.
This game is all about clicking everything. Nearly every object has unique text that pops up, if not multiple. You find keys to open more of the house and slowly suck up the atominous atoms and clean up the place.
That's it. It's a fun quirky little free game that shouldn't take more then a couple hours. No excuse not to try it, it's free. It's also the only game not on steam, but instead here
Adventure Games Where You Hit Things:
TUNIC
TUNIC is a lovely indie game. You play as a little cute fox and go on a adventure to save your poor trapped mom. such a cute game :3
I adore the visuals, I love low poly stuff and the game is full of charm. Looking at this game makes me happy. The game is like a mix of a top down Zelda and Fez and it being reminiscent of FEZ was what really took me by surprise. I won't go further in how it's like FEZ, but it really elevated the game for me.
It's a fun top down game with simple fun combat. You kill enemies, find key items, unlock more of the world, and get fed cryptic lore. The perfect formula for a fun little indie game. The game is decently challenging to with it's boss fights, and overall a nice fun little experience with some neat surprises.
TUNIC is wonderful, go play it.
Kena: Bridge of Sprits
This is the most PS2 game I've played since the PS2. I mean that as a compliment. This game felt like going back in time to a simpler time.
Visually the game is not at all like the PS2. The visuals are beautiful and has been compared to Pixar. It's bright, colorful, and well polished. To me this is peak aesthetics. This game is worth playing just to see all the work that went into the game's visuals alone.
It reminded me of a PS2 game because it's a self contained fun third person action adventure. Just a fun game with no bullshit holding it down or any other purpose then being a fun adventure. The world is a joy to explore with a nice steady progression. I especially love how the Hub is mostly corrupted and you slowly restore it over the course of the game. Shit like that always feels so good.
There's a lot of unexpected challenge to. Some of the later fights and especially bosses took me a bit to beat. Just like a PS2 game you'll get random difficulty spikes that are so fucking satisfying to beat.
I highly recommend this game.
Adventure Games Where You're in the Desert:
Sable
Sable is a coming of age story presented in a very fun interactive package. This is a game about heading out into the world and exploring on your own whim to figure out what your character becomes as an adult.
You play as Sable, a young adult girl who has to leave her tribe and head into the wider world to discover herself. The goal is to find mask which representative a life path and pick one by the end. The actual game is about heading into a desert open world, solving puzzles, helping NPC's, and discovering what bits of hidden lore hide throughout. You do this all on a hoverbike you can customize as you unlock more parts.
As always the art style is important to me and this game has something really unique. The characters animation is low framerate and it can be off putting to some, but of course I loved it as I love any odd creative choice. I love the lighting and colors to. It's hard to describe just why I was so mesmerised by the art style, but I can safely say it's one of my all time favorites.
The only negative goes to technical issues. The game ran like shit on my PC and my PC isn't bad. Even people with far better PC's then me ran into frame rate issues and others didn't have any. Sometimes games aren't optimized well, but this game was so magical to me that I loved it, despite the tech issues.
It's a very chill game. You want to explore a cool world at a slow pace and get lost in it? Sable's the game for you.
It Comes In Waves
This is a short game where you have to start over if you die. A penalty I feared, but truthfully this isn't that difficult of an experience. You start on one end of a desert and have to carry something to the other end as it grows inside a tank on your back.
As you wait for whatever your transporting to grow you will explore minimalist environments with some unique imagery that speaks of a wider history you just have to wonder about. The whole time you have to watch out for raiders and watch your water level. It always depletes and you will need to explore and refill it as you journey on. I also love how you have a map, but the map is like an actual map. It doesn't show you on it, but just the overall area.
This game will take you a hour at best and is unlike anything else on this list. There's something about just slowly walking across the desert, not knowing what's ahead, and hoping you can make it to the next water tank. Just a little experimental game about a harsh journey.
Platformers With 2 Entire Dimensions:
MO: Astray
Ever wanted to play as a little blob? No? Well you should because this game was a hidden gem. I was thrown off by this game at first and then pleasantly surprised by the whole experience.
This game feels like it should be a metroidvania. It's 2D and you're on a broken down ship or facility or something. Nope. This game is fully linear and at first I didn't think I'd like that and was disappointed, but it works so damn well.
You play a slime essentially and you have the magical power to read the last thoughts and minds of corpses by settling on their rotten fleshy head. With this power and other little story tidbits you learn what's going on, your purpose, and so on.
There's no combat in this game really. You move by shooting yourself in any direction you can see and you can stick to surfaces. There's danger. There's enemies. There's boss fights. All without the usual fair of attack/dodge roll, that's standard for 2D metroidvanias now. This game is something different and that alone makes it worth it.
Also a note on the boss fights. All of them felt very unique from each other I prefer having a few well crafted unique bosses then having a bunch of the same type of fight over and over again.
Another genuine hidden gem you should try.
Platformers With 3 Entire Dimensions:
Frogun
Frogun is adorable. It's like a N64 game and I love it.
You have a frog grappling hook and go through little short levels that ramp up in difficulty. There's optional challenges in each one. The art style is absolutely going for that early 3D low poly vibe that is starting to become more popular.
This is a perfect example of just a fun video game for the sake of being a fun video game. No serious story or message or intense complicated gameplay mechanics. Just a cute 3D platformer reminiscent of a older time.
Also I played this back when I used to stream and a Frogun speedrunner showed up in chat and helped me pull off a couple speedrunning tricks so that was fun.
If you want something simple and fun then here it is.
Cyber Hook
The ultimate speedrunning game. You have a gun, a grappling hook, and the ability to slow down time. This is a pure platformer. You enter levels with the goal of getting through as fast as you can.
I never got great at it, but the few times I really got going fast and flew through a level felt awesome. It's so satisfying finally doing things right after many failures and you will fail a lot.
There's really not much more to it. Neat visuals with satisfying and simple mechanics. If that sounds fun to you then check it out.
Marble It Up! Ultra
Platformers really are just the perfect mechanic to make fun mindless games with. Marble It Up! Ultra is another simple 3D platformer that's just purely focused on being fun.
As always it's not that complicated either. You're a marble and you try to reach the end of each stage with a time limit. There's items to stop time, make you jump higher, and go faster. Just all about building up speed and there's tons of ways to skip past parts of levels. Like the two games before, this one is perfect for speedrunning.
It's fun, go buy it.
RPG's:
Roadwarden
I was going to make a big post about why I preferred this to BG3, but scrapped it. BG3 is fun, but the story just bores me from the get go. Where BG3 failed for me Roadwarden succeeded. All story and all fantastic.
This is a text based RPG. Very simplistic visuals which show just enough to let your imagination handle most of the work.
You play a roadwarden who has the lovely job to travel the dangerous roads and help the townsfolk all while working on your greater goals. You pick between 3 starting classes and those do change how you approach things quite a bit. You have a time limit and that will force you to prioritize things over others. You can't do everything in a single playthrough. Your decisions matter and you aren't going to figure everything out.
You have to manage your health, money, hunger, and cleanliness. You will never have enough money for everything and that helps create more interesting choices. You have to manage what you do in a day. You meet a lot of people and forge allies or enemies and it's all told with stellar writing.
If you want a well written fantasy interactive story then you must play this game.
RPG's With Intense High-Octane Turn Based Combat:
Epic Battle Fantasy 5
A long time ago in times forgotten there existed these ancient relics called Flash games. Maybe one day I'll talk about old flash games I was into, but for now I'm only talking about the latest instalment in one of them. Epic Battle Fantasy is a series of games made by Matt Roszak. They started as little flash games, but have since turned into bigger games that are on Steam. 5 is the latest one and also the best so I'm recommending this one.
I've gone through this game multiple times. This game fucking rules. The game is easy to control, satisfying, and has my favorite turn based combat system period. No seriously, this is my favorite turn based combat system. I could go on what I like about it so much, but I'll spare you all most of the details. I'll say it gets rid of mana entirely and put all your abilities on cooldowns which changes based on what you're using. This just fixes balancing and helps you from spamming heals and all that. I love this system. It's easy to control, intuitive to understand, full of options, and can have a chaotic randomness I enjoy.
In this game you explore the overworld, solve puzzles, and fight enemies. The story is not at all serious or anything like that. It may not be a Flash game anymore, but it still has the older internet spirit of not taking things to seriously and being a little juvenile. There's also a lot of post game challenges that still are impossible for me to really do well or at all.
You can change the difficulty anytime and another thing I love is the entire game can be controlled with just a mouse. You can use a keyboard to, but a mouse covers everything which I think is neat.
This is such a wonderful combat system and the game I've beaten most on this list. If you want legitimately challenging turn based RPG combat and don't care about story or characters to get that then this game is a must play.
Shadows Over Loathing
Want a lovecraftian mystery RPG injected with a dose of comedy where everybody is a stick figure? Yes? How very specific, but luckily there's a game just for you.
Shadows Over Loathing is a turn based RPG where you search for your missing uncle in a area full of strange locations and characters. I never did play their other game West of Loathing, and I was pleasantly surprised by this one. It was a lot of fun, creative, difficult at times, and had a world I really wanted to explore.
It has a lighthearted comedic tone throughout and the silly art and stick figure characters help with that. The actual turn based combat is fun to. Nothing to complicated but could be challenging to which is needed to help this style of combat really shine.
There's really not much more to it. If this sounds like something you'd enjoy then please check it out.
RPG's Fused With A Light Novel:
Ys VIII: Lacrimosa of DANA
AA games still exist! I finally get to talk about Ys. I've played 3 Ys games and I'm going to talk about my favorite one because of the fun gameplay. This is a very unknown franchise that has existed since the 80's and even now the 10th instalment is set to release later this year.
As for why I'm recommending Ys 8, it's because it has some of the most fun gameplay. The combat is fast paced, encourages good timing, and full of that anime over the top stylish action. You control up to 3 characters and can easily switch between them. Each character plays differently and has their own special moves and everything just feels so satisfying.
You play as generic light novel anime man, Adol. Tagging along is generic tsundere light novel anime girl and other light novel anime characters. Like edgy boy with a gun, loli raised in the wild, and blue haired girl. You crash land on a island and have to survive and find survivors. Much like LOST the story goes off the rails and of course in classic JRPG fashion you need to stop the end of the world somehow. Unlike LOST characters are generic and the usual anime fair.
Despite the lackluster story this game still fucking rules because it's so goddamn fun to play. It also solved crafting forever by making it so you can convert common items into rarer ones making anything you find useful potentially. Seriously it's such a nice feature and all crafting systems without it are lesser.
If you want some fun action combat and don't mind anime bullshit then really, check out the entire franchise. Any of them will do, but this is the one I'd recommend the most.
RPG's Fused With A Light Novel and A WW2 Textbook:
Valkyria Chronicles 1 and 4
Picture this. WW2, but with anime and magical girls. Japan just never stops with these incredible ideas.
I adore these 2 games. I haven't played 2 or 3 as those are PSP games and I don't hear great things. However I can confirm 1 and 4 are fucking fantastic.
These games are tactical RPG's where you command troops one by one in missions. Most are usually about capturing a enemy base, but there's a lot of variety beyond that in both of them. You lay out your troops at the start plus your commander who's in the tank. You get a set level of CP per turn and each CP is used to control a unit. The actual game is probably piss easy for experienced tactical game players, but I'm not that at all. I found it legitimately difficult, both games.
What sets it apart is the game turns into a sort of third person shooter when controlling the units. You can freely move up to your AP and get one action to do. If it was just top down the whole time I'd find that not that interesting, but actually moving around and taking cover unit by unit is very engaging. There's 5 classes in the first game and a 6th added in the fourth game. Each class can be upgraded as well along with weapons, equipment, and the tanks.
The stories in both are nothing special truthfully. It's anime WW2 with silly dumb anime characters. I don't mind that and had a lot of fun, but if you can't stand something like Persona then these games will infuriate you. To me stupid anime characters in games can be a lot of fun, like Raz in 4, the dumbest but somehow most entertaining character for me. Expect some silly anime cliches and tone changes and the usual fair for these kinds of games. Even if the story is a big nothing for you, I still think both games are worth it for the gameplay.
Another aspect that I really love is all your units have personality traits that can trigger as you control them. What caught me off guard was that they're both positive and negative ones. There's ones like a woman having man hater and fancies woman as traits, aka the lesbian. There's straight up a guy with misogynist as a trait. Some are lonely, frail, daredevils, have crushes or people they hate, even one with the masochist trait. All these good and bad traits translate into potential buffs or debuffs that can happen in the game.
Sadly these side characters don't get much story in the first game. Just a unique design with some personality traits and maybe a couple in battle lines of dialogue. However, the 4th one introduced squad stories. Essentially little side stories that revolve around the non important squad mates. They were always fun to do and the missions for them are more unique because they are designed around only using those 3 characters.
I recommend both of them, but if you had to play one I'm not sure. 1 has the better story, the overall lore itself establishes in 1, and the gameplay is still fun. 4 has the better gameplay, more unique missions, and the squad stories which were a highlight for me.
Just pick which one sounds more like your thing if you only want to spend the time with one of them. Both are fun.
RPG's About the Harsh Reality of Capitalism:
Recettear: An Item Shop's Tale
I adore this games concept. It takes the common NPC seen in these little RPG adventures, the shopkeeper, and puts you in their shoes. You're father has a big debt to pay off and you now have to sell items out of your house to help pay it off before the deadline.
You lay the items out and then have to haggle your way to a profit. Finding the line of when to haggle and how much is the key to success and I failed miserably. I never did beat this game, but I haven't beaten many games on this list and that won't stop me from telling you to play them. I think the concept alone is enough of a reason to check it out.
The game does have combat as well. You can hire an adventurer to go with you into a dungeon and fight enemies for treasure. I like how you hire someone from the Adventurers Guild, just another cool concept as a typical game would have you play as the character being hired instead all the time. I also like how dungeons are high risk high reward. If they die then you lose most of what you gather and essentially just wasted the day.
It's just a cool concept and a nice change of pace from how a game set in these typical fantasy settings would go. You aren't some savior of the world, but just a shopkeeper trying to pay off debt.
Spooky Games:
Yuppie Psycho
Do you want a game about a corporate building being haunted by dark forces and being a badass fighting your way through it all? That's Control. You just want Control.
Unlike Control which bored me to death after a while. Yuppie Psycho is about a haunted corporate building, but you play a new lowly worker who's been tasked with something far above his pay grade. Brian Pasternack is a new hire who's in way over his head. What should have been a normal corporate jobs turns into a witch hunt, literally.
You aren't a badass and will have to sneak your way to victory, uncovering the buildings hidden secrets along the way. For me that's part of why this works over Control as a effective story. You're kind of a fucking nobody who has to be extra careful and is reluctant to even do this. Far more relatable honestly.
The joy of this game comes from exploring this building and uncovering the secrets and horrors. Each floor is unique and this game gets creative with the corporate horror vibe. I love some of the designs of things and how it blends comedy and horror together. It also has branching paths and even limited save slots which seemed frustrating at first, but wasn't really a big deal. Not saving every chance you can really adds to the tension when sneaking around.
It's not a true horror intense experience, but as someone who is a baby with horror I found a lot of genuine tense moments. It's a real indie gem.
The Complex: Found Footage
Kane Pixels backrooms videos are honestly pretty fucking great. I'm not usually a fan of horror at all, but there's something about these videos that just work for me. Then pgWave decided to make a video game creating the experience of exploring these kinds of spaces.
This is a creepy game where you slowly move through liminal spaces and just sort of get lost in it. There's no jumpscares or anything intense happening, but as a baby with horror this game was tense to go through for me. Honestly I appreciate it's not a more traditional horror game with a monster or something. Just dropped in a space that's inherently unsettling and leaving it up to you to explore.
If you have a free night and want to get lost exploring spaces only games could deliver then play it. It's literally free.
Games Where You Gotta Go Fast:
Distance
This game fucks. I actually remember when playing the first version of this game back when it was a student project. Students at DigiPen made a game called Nitronic Rush and it was (maybe still is?) available to download for free from the schools website. That game fucks and they announced a proper full game called Distance and it was one of the rare instances I actually bought a early access game.
Distance is a car game about going fast as fuck. The levels don't put you against anyone and instead just getting to the end is the challenge in itself. You have a boost that can overheat, a jump, and even wings when needed. The levels will require you to weave in and out of oncoming danger. They have jumps where you'll need to turn the car 90 or 180 degrees to land on a new track. All while giving you a wonderful sense of speed and accomplishment when you pull things off right.
It's not a easy game either and levels will get challenging. There's a ton of levels and challenges and if you get sucked into the gameplay then there's a lot to keep you there. This game seeks to deliver the thrill of going fast in a dangerous track where everything is out to kill you, and making it to the end. There's really not much more to say. It has a specific vision and fully realizes it.
Games Where You Trust the Heart of the Cards:
Foretales:
This game is very unique and nothing quite like what I've played before. The entire game is card based. Each of the characters have their own decks that are all mixed together in your hand. You have 4 resources you can collect, gold, food, fame, and infamy. You can get item cards as well. The board has various location cards you need to move through to move the story along. What's unique about this is the cards can be used in battle or on locations.
It's hard to really go into details how this all works, but you don't have a separate hand or anything for when combat begins.
Some cards have uses in locations and battles and others don't, but there all mixed together which adds to you planning ahead and making the best choice. You can use a eavesdrop card near a guard post to get a juicy secret which can be used for blackmail later. You can forage for food and obviously a forest will give you more then a mine shaft. There's a lot of really cool little interactions and creativity put into this systems that's just to complicated to type out and explain.
One thing I can get into is the best feature of combat. The fact that you can get through it without fighting or with less fighting then needed. Those 4 resources can be used in locations for story or optional reasons, but they can also be used in combat pacify enemies. Bandits can be bribed with gold or food for example. Fame and infamy can be used as well in certain circumstances. They are a constantly growing resource that always have uses. I'm sure it's possible to do a full pacifist run, though I imagine it would be difficult.
The game also has multiple paths for the story to go and lots of optional stuff. Multiple characters to use down the line but only 3 party members so there's more choice as well. Also everyone's an anthropomorphic animal because why not.
I just like how it's a card based game that's not just a battle between opponents or a roguelike or how cards are typically used in video games. If nothing else this game should be played for it's game design alone. If you want a really unique interactive story experience entirely dictated by cards then this is about the only game I know of like it.
One Step From Eden
I'm very bad at this game. So bad I still have never beaten it once. It's really fun all the same though.
It's a deckbuilding roguelike set on a grid. As the formula goes you fight your way through, choosing your path, collecting cards, and seeing if you can win. In my case that's a no.
The game is set on a grid where you have to manage what spells you currently have, dodging enemies, and somehow making sense of the chaos. You can unlock other characters that have their own unique mechanics to help freshen things up. Also the game just throws you in the deep end and lets you learn through playing. No tutorial or anything, just have at it.
If you're itching for a roguelike that's very fucking challenging then enjoy.
Inscryption
This is another game I expect many others to know about, but if not then honestly just play it.
It's a rougelike card game set in a wonderfully crafted creepy setting. You're alone in some mysterious persons shack forced to play a really well designed card game. Of course if it was just that I'd not be recommending it.
The mechanics are well thought out and slowly learning the mechanics feels nice. You will fail, a lot, as is the case for roguelikes, but keep at it. The game is filled with secrets and puzzles and mysteries that you'll just have to figure out for yourself.
Much like with Outer Wilds way back at the top, I don't want to say much more. If you have somehow not played this or don't know anything about it then you should.
Tainted Grail: Conquest
This is still the only proper deck-building roguelike in the same vein as Slay the Spire. While I haven't played much of that and honestly couldn't get into it, this game I did.
It was described to me as Slay the Spire meets Dark Souls by some poor soul who's brain is forever lost in soulslike hell. In reality it's just a cool deck building game where you fight creepy monsters and slowly build up the village to make each run easier. There's characters to find and NPC quest you can make little progressions on each run. It's just enough story and context to give this game a sense or purpose and progression outside collecting cards.
What added more replayability to me beyond the quest was having 9 classes to work with. In truth it's really 3 broad classes with 3 variations on those broader class types. You have the fighter, archer, and summoner as the broad classes. They use similar cards, but their strategies vary with each subclass. A summoner is more about making their summons powerful, bloodmages use their own life to summon minions that get stronger and die on their own, and necromancers sacrifice their minions to turn into a Lich. The fighter and archer subclasses are as varied and it's a good way to use similar cards across different playstyles.
I had a lot of fun with this one. It's a fun deck building game.
Thinking Games:
Manifold Garden:
I love the space this game takes place in. This is the shit only games can truly deliver on. The world is basically always looping. Each level repeats in all directions when your in open space. If you fall anywhere, you'll be ok. You can just fall endlessly even, it's very mesmerising and freeing once you get used to the fact that you can just jump off anywhere, and even needed to solve the level sometimes.
The other fun mechanic the puzzles primarily revolve around is the ability to walk on any surface and change gravity as you do it. Essentially you turn the wall into the new floor and is the main mechanic for puzzles in enclosed spaces. This game uses blocks of various colors and the simple task of putting them in the right slot is made complicated by having to altar gravity and matching them up. There's other mechanics introduced of course, but you'll need to discover those yourself.
The game can be beaten in a day give or take your skill at puzzles. I appreciate that it doesn't overstay it's welcome and uses it's mechanics in interesting ways. Also this reminds me I still need to play Antichamber someday.
If you like exploring spaces only games can deliver on or puzzles then this is the game for you.
FEZ
FEZ! This is such a fun interesting little game. It's probably well known given who the creator is, but if you haven't checked this out before, then you should.
The trailer makes it appear to be more a platformer then a puzzle game and that's half right. Similar to another game on this list, FEZ goes much deeper then a mere platformer. It has some esoteric puzzles. As I understand (could be wrong) one puzzle still hasn't been solved legitimately, but had to be brute forced and even now the community has no concrete answers on how you were supposed to get the solution.
The good news is the harder puzzles aren't technically required to just finish the game. You could still enjoy this as a fun platformer. The way the world works is you see the game world on a 2D plane. Like any other 2D platformer. However, the world itself is in 3D and you can switch the perspective to change where platforms and other things are. It's really fun moving about this world and in a sense each level is it's own puzzle to figure out how to get through it with these mechanics.
I highly recommend this game.
Thinking Games for DJ's
FRACT OSC
This is another game I would be shocked if anyone knew about. No one talks about this game ever and I don't even remember how I found out about it wayyyy back in college. This is also the oldest game on here I've played. I haven't touched this is years, but know I enjoyed it a lot.
What i remember is it's filled with music based puzzles. I also remember being very fucking confused and having to look shit up, but the real joy is just the vibe. Everything makes sound and the whole game revolves around music. I slowly explored as much as I could and just took it all in. It's a fun space to be in and I'm a sucker for being dropped in a unusual place only games can delivery on.
If you don't know shit about music production like me you might have a hard time or maybe I was just a fucking idiot and needed help. Either way I still recommend this to everyone.
Vibing with the Beat Games:
Sayonara Wild Hearts
This is basically a interactive album. It's a rhythm game that's not to difficult, which is good as this is more about the flow and vibe. There's not much more to say about it. It will take an hour and every bit is lovely. It's a visual and auditory feast that has some clever ideas packed in. I think everyone should experience it.
Soundodger+
This game won't be on the Steam store for much longer sadly. Warner Bros being shitty and taking cool shit down. I haven't played any other of the Adult Swim games that are being taken down, but I encourage you to find the list and get anything interesting while you still can.
The game itself is a fun little bullet hell rhythm game. The song plays and you are a circle in the middle of larger circle. Obstacles are thrown out into the middle timed to the music and you simply have to dodged them. I don't remember it being to hard, but I know there are community levels and I just have to assume those are going to be tough.
It's a cool game to vibe to and it's going to be gone soon. Don't miss your chance to get it.
Artsy Games That I Don't Know Where Else To Put Them:
The Beginner's Guide
This a narrative experience about the relationship between the narrator and the game dev who's games are being played. That may not sound like the most interesting premise, but trust me it's very engaging. This game has a unsettling feeling underneath it all and it's really hard to go into more without just spoiling things.
The actual game is you going through a series of small little games made by a Dev named Coda as the narrator Davey speaks to you about various things relating to the game and Coda himself. It's explores a character who's frankly caught up in a unhealthy obsession with someone else and quite the journey.
It will only take a hour and half to get through and I think it's worth a playthrough if you like narratives only video games can deliver on.
The Static Speaks My Name
This is the shortest game on this list. It's also the most depressing. If you struggle with dark thoughts and depression and really need something happy to distract you, then do not play this little free game.
It's a sad and unsettling little experience that has a lot of room for interpretation. I'm a fan of little strange pieces of art like this and if this sounds interesting to you then it's free. Check it out.
Minimalist City Builder Games:
ISLANDERS
This such a cute game. It's a simple city builder where the goal is to keep building things correctly and move on to another island. You start on a randomly generated island and are given a set of buildings and a number to reach. Buildings will get bonuses based on whats near them and as you unlock more buildings the number to reach gets higher.
That's really it. It's easy to understand and a nice little relaxing game about building a cool island town. Pretty cheap and pretty fun.
Multi Genre:
The Hex
This is multi genre because it quite literally has many different gameplay modes packed in it. A bunch of old video game characters stay at a Tavern where a murder may take place. It's a murder mystery! Also so much more.
In truth it's a narrative video game about exploring these characters past lives and revealing a larger narrative underneath it all. This was made by Daniel Mullens who's latest game I recommended earlier. Much like Inscryption, this game slowly draws you into it's setting and drop feeds you it's secrets slowly.
The Hex was pleasantly surprising as I didn't really know what I was getting myself into. It's worth playing.
That's it. That's the list. Over 50 more games to add to your Steam library which means over 50 more games you'll get to, eventually.
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Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual - Dante's Path
Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Dante's Path
Pairing: Dante x Reader
Summary: It’s finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn’t stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or… At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.
Author's Notes: Fucking. Finally. It took forever, but here I have around 20 pages of a demon wanting to marry the reader and Dante going feral over it. Took me ALL THIS TIME to write and I do apologize, but SO MUCH has happened since October, I'm finally managing to get my life back on track.
So heeeeeey, here we have Dante's part of the Halloween Special for 2023! Be sure to read the Prologue first to understand the road so far yes Supernatural fan right here and have fun!!
But I do have to thank @furyeclipse - the idea came from an ask sent a thousand years ago and I've been reading her works on ao3 and that motivated™ me to write again! Be sure to check Fury's work over there!
Oh. And I highly recommend an AC/DC playlist while reading this. Just sayin'. We all know Dante is an AC/DC guy
Devil May Halloween 2023 – Dante’s Path
“You know, of all the things that could have happened to me as a hunter, getting into a forced marriage with a demon lord was the very last one I would’ve imagined.”
And you were definitely the only person in the world that could have made Kyrie laugh in a moment like that – at least, that was what she thought as she smiled for the first time since you both had stepped in that place.
It was desecrated ground, that was the reason why the demons chose such a place. An old cathedral, now turned into an abandoned set of ruins with a cemetery of forgotten souls in the back. Some stone walls still stood tall, but the roof was gone, along with some windows and part of its gothic architecture. The shroud of the darkest tones of night slowly crept over, having rows and sets of candles of all sizes as the only source of light beside the moon.
You and Kyrie were being kept in a secured room – the only with still four walls to hold you in, and a heavy set of crumbling wooden doors. You were handed wedding attires – white, as to demonstrate the purity of your human souls compared to demons – and shoved in there, forced to change before the ritual.
You tried to resist, but as soon as they threatened Kyrie, you had to abide. There was nothing you could do: you had promised Nero nothing would happen to her, and she was your weak spot that night.
“We will figure something out…” Kyrie murmured with a ghost of a smile on her soft lips, even if she didn’t carry too much hope in her heart. She knew that if you were alone, you would probably be fist-fighting demons with all your might to drag yourself out of that place, but with her by your side… She had never seen you so compliant.
“Hmmm. Yeah. I’m still trying to think of something.” You huffed, sitting by her side on a stone loveseat, having your elbows on your knees and your face cradled by your hands. “I feel naked without my stuff. So uncomfortable.”
Once again, Kyrie giggled. Indeed, it was probably the first time she ever saw you without your everyday clothes and specially without your weapons: be it your guns, your sword or even a pocketknife you carried around for emergency self-defense. She could only imagine how stripped you felt at that moment.
“Well, if it serves as consolation, this is definitely not my style.” She whispered in response, making you laugh immediately. Indeed, poor Kyrie looked like a princess covered in Chantilly. Too over-the-top for her, and you could say the same about your forced attire.
“Oh, what a mess we got ourselves into this time, huh…?” You still had that laugh in your lips, making Kyrie respond with a sad smile. “Though I bet Nero is going to die seeing you dressed as a bride.”
“He will never admit it.” Kyrie had to giggle with that mental image. She could almost see Nero standing in front of her, red as a tomato, stuttering while trying to maintain that nonchalant punk attitude he always tried to – even if Kyrie could easily see through all of that. “He does get all flustered whenever I’m wearing anything slightly bridal looking.”
“There you go. The hideous Chantilly wedding dress will have at least one good effect after all.” You sighed with a laugh, following Kyrie on her giggles as she blushed herself, happy to imagine that.
The moment wouldn’t last long, though, as you felt something shifting in the air. You immediately got up on your feet, keeping Kyrie safe and sound behind you. Her curious, scared eyes tried to pick up what was going on, but neither of you could see – you could just feel it.
With some fiery sparkles, one of the demons responsible for that mess materialized right in front of you.
“Well, well. It is good to see you are already prepared.” Horns and sharp features, but in the suit of a ruthless man – that was the best way you could describe the demon lords. They had the leathery wings, skin as rough as that of a lizard, eyes bright like flames in the dark – but something still carried the resemblance of a human being. They were tall – even taller than most doors – with sharp nails to be used as claws, fangs ready to tear throats apart. But they were built in the image of humans: something quite rare when it came to demons.
“Not out of our own free will – you shouldn’t be that pleased your minions managed to coerce us into these horrid things.” You pointed at your own attire, making Kyrie look up at you with tense eyes.
It was something she admired, to say the least. You could all look in the face of the most threatening of creatures and still manage to say something to taunt or belittle them. She wished she had that kind of courage.
“You do have a point, human.” The demon had a quick giggle in his voice, making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. It wasn’t every day one of those things would agree with your big mouth. “Come. I would very much like to speak with you.”
*
Oh. Demons and their teleportation shenanigans – to be quite honest, you hated it. Whenever you used any of their magic or even Vergil’s void thing from the Yamato, you always felt a little dizzy afterwards. It took you some quick seconds to make sense you were in what seemed to be the abandoned church’s library – in a room made of stones and rotten books, lit by decrepit candles and having just one usable table in a corner. The demon lords had clearly made that their own room for the day.
“It’s rare a demon wishes to talk.” You finally managed to say while the demon lord slowly walked towards his desk, having you in the middle of the room. Now Kyrie was alone and you had no idea what was going on with her – you had to play your cards well to see her alive again. “According to my experience, your kind prefers a bloodier approach.”
“I take it you haven’t met many demon lords then.” He had a nonchalant tone, waving his hand in disregard as he approached his desk and leaned into it, staring at you. “Nevertheless, that is more Orcus’ style.”
“Your little friend.”
“Al Pacino did play the devil once, didn’t he…?” The demon laughed in response and you did your best to cover up the shock that he understood your Scarface reference.
Movies and pop culture references with Dante were a given – the same way Vergil was an encyclopedia of forgotten and obscure texts, Dante was the go-to man when it came to movies, especially the classic ones. Making references and laughing with each other was something both of you cherished wholeheartedly – and you never thought a demon would get it.
Vergil never did – and he had to have spent some time with those guys in the last decades.
“Well, I don’t think you brought me down here just to talk about movies.” You crossed your arms, trying as much as you could to look tough in that attire. Which wasn’t going very well for you. “And it certainly wasn’t to properly ask for my hand in marriage.”
“Oh, no, no…” He answered with a laugh that crackled like fire – and you could easily see the amusement in his eyes. “I wanted to see what the son of Sparda saw in you… To bind himself to one of the weakest creatures known. Just like his father before him.”
“It’s not like Dante has married me, you know? We’re not like Eva and Sparda.” You raised one of your eyebrows. Something about that conversation was very… Weird. To put it mildly. “We’re not bonded like you want to do today. And on that note, I have to point out: marriages are quite religious. Aren’t you guys going to combust spontaneously trying to do something holy?”
“Oh, but you are bonded. He may not have chosen his father’s path, but his heart does not lie.” The demon had something quite mischievous in his eyes, and you were starting to notice the difference between him and Orcus: the second one was more of a brute, a lord of war so to speak – the one you were talking to, Erlach, was very cunning; but there was a glint of bloodthirstiness in the back of his eyes. That made him even more dangerous than you gave him credit for at first. “I shall never understand why Sparda did not wish to follow the ritual with his human. That would have made him so powerful, not even the most dangerous creatures in Hell would have dared to slaughter his family. A shame really.” He tossed aside a charred painting of Sparda and Eva: old, barely holding itself together, but still clearly depicting the couple holding hands and smiling to whoever decided to look upon them. “We do have our own rituals – and demons are no strangers to marriages. It has another name in Hell, though, it is a binding ritual: where souls connect and one can be made more from the other’s power.”
“Oh. So the other just accepts it’s going to be a puny little thing beside their partner? Sounds more like slavery to me.” You wouldn’t give the demon the benefit of the doubt nor make it all sound so wonderful. Anything related to devils always had a catch – and that had to be the catch to their own twisted version of a ‘marriage’.
And in all honesty, you weren’t looking forward to be made a slave to a demon lord.
“Some creatures enjoy that.” And the smile that covered Erlach’s lips could be only considered devilish. You did your best not to look like you were agreeing – even if you knew, deep down, that yes, some people did enjoy that. “Every con has its pro. With the binding and forfeit of power, comes protection and status. Few would want to desecrate the partner of a powerful demon – it could easily be the last thing they would do.”
“if I am bonded to Dante, then, I wonder why would someone like you decide to mess with the chosen partner of the son of Sparda.” Now you had a small smile hidden in the corner of your lips, slightly raising your head in hubris. You wouldn’t lie: the status you got from him among demons was always very welcome. “Not that I really need him to help me. If I had my weapons, you would all be laying on the floor in a pool of your own blood – and I’d be home celebrating Halloween with him.”
Erlach stared into your eyes for a good four seconds before opening a threatening smile with his sharp fangs. His own eyes burned like fire, but you never let his gaze go – it wasn’t in you to be scared by the likes of him. You had seen worse, you had fought worse… And only you knew how threatening Dante’s eyes could look when he was half asleep in a nightmare of his young years with you trying to wake him up so he could have some peace. That was worse than any demon you could ever face.
“Indeed, that is why I needed some leverage against you.” He waved his hand nonchalantly towards the door and you immediately understood he was talking about Kyrie. “It was never my intention to allow Orcus to bond to some creature as powerful as mine… But I did not knew the extent of your powers, so I needed something to keep you in line. Luckily, Sparda’s grandson is not as attuned to powerful partners as Sparda’s children.”
You furrowed your brows. Whenever you talked between the members of the crew, there was a tacit agreement Kyrie was indeed the most powerful of all – for her ability to love openly, to cry, to be vulnerable and to care with such an open heart.
But those abilities were inherently human – and appreciated in humans rather than demons. In the human point of view, Kyrie was stronger than all of you together, and no one could argue against that. But in the demonic point of view… You and Lady were top of the list when it came to being able to take demons in a fair fight.
But you… You had Dante’s heart.
“It was part of our bargain. But I would never allow Orcus to bind to the most powerful of partners, would I?” Again, that smile painted his lips. You remained in the middle of the room, holding his gaze, not even flinching as he approached you. “I must admit, though, I never thought you would have this… Fire.”
As Erlach stopped with a few inches from your own face, you didn’t recoil. You remained with your arms crossed, standing as tall as you could in front of that huge demon lord as his fiery eyes just stared deeply into yours – and you stared back.
But you sensed something… Different. In his words, in his gaze. You wanted to furrow your brows as you were slowly coming to realize something, but you did your best to remain as proud and emotionless as you could – and Erlach took note of that. A pleasurable note.
“I can see what the son of Sparda saw in you.” That devilish smile colored his lips once more as the demon took another step towards you. It took you a great amount of willpower not to step back. You would never step back. “When demons bind with demons, it is one sort of marriage. When demons bind with humans, on Samhein, with the correct ritual… Well, it is a very different thing. A kind of binding never seen before – and never attempted, not even by Sparda.” Erlach approached with another step, making you raise your head even higher. Every fiber of your being wanted to scream Dante’s name and watch your red devil storm inside that room and suplex Erlach face first on the floor – as he deserved. The demon lord, though, offered one hand to you, palm facing up. “At first, I targeted you for Dante would not take a weakling as a partner, but now… I am more than inclined to take you as mine. With me, you would have the protection and status of royalty in Hell. We can take over entire worlds. And they would all be mine and yours to rule.” You just kept staring at him as Erlach’s fiery eyes stared even more deeply into yours. “You just have to say yes.”
To say your head was spinning was an understatement. What a wild ride that night was becoming – and something inside you stirred, telling you it would become even wilder. Were you reading his words right…? His gestures…? Not that Erlach was being subtle about it, he was being as blunt as his kind could be, but… Were you going crazy? You were, probably. That was a more plausible explanation than what you had to admit yourself – than what you were living right at that moment.
“If you think I’d give up Dante for power, then you can see nothing he saw in me.” You spat back, still holding your head high. “You are just as clueless as the rest of your kind.”
Erlach laughed back – not a laugh of an evil demon as you were used to, but one of delight. He… Enjoyed your answer…?
“The more you speak, the more I see.” He finally chuckled, stepping back after one last stare. “And I will see you later.”
With a snap of his fingers, you were back to the cold, abandoned crypt you and Kyrie were being held hostages. As your dizziness faded and you came back to reality, you saw her holding one of your hands, checking if you were ok with one of her palms on your forehead. Even if you didn’t feel lightheaded anymore, your mind was still troubled – and you had to sit down on the stone loveseat you shared with Kyrie earlier.
“Are you ok, y/n? What happened?” She sat by your side, big hazelnut eyes staring at you with warmth and humanity – so much different from the fiery pit of Erlach’s eyes. So much more welcoming and cozier. So much more like home. You would’ve hugged her if you weren’t so disoriented. “Y/n. What did he do to you? What happened?!”
“I think…” You finally managed to put into words what just happened – even if you didn’t want to say what you thought out loud. It seemed that by saying it, a sort of magic would make it become true. “I think… A demon lord just fell in love with me.”
You and Kyrie just stared at each other in horror, not even knowing what to say.
“What the hell…?!”
And Kyrie finally managed to put into words what you had been thinking the whole time.
*
“Fuckin’ hell…”
Nico just stared at Lady as Dante growled while mounting on his bike.
To be fair, Nico wasn’t the safest person to be behind a wheel, even more in a dire situation like that with Nero by her side looking like he was about to bite ankles and throw punches – but something about Dante looking like he was about to burst into flames while viciously riding the Cavaliere and growling in a half-distorted demon voice was enough to get the gunsmith ever so slightly… Concerned.
“Everything ok there, Dante, or do we need to take you in the van?” Lady screamed out her window, while Nico hoped the bright red glint in Dante’s eyes was only her imagination. “You look like you wanna beat me in a race! We hunt demons to save humans, not run them over, you know?”
“Eh, demon spidey-sense is tinglin’, Lady! That’s no good!” Dante screamed back, doing his best to keep the demonic part of his voice repressed inside his chest. He would have more than enough opportunities to let that explode. “Y/n is unsafe. I can feel it. And I…” With that, Dante drove to the back of the van because of a narrowing road, only to come back a few seconds later. “Don’t…” Another interruption for Dante not to run over a citizen cluelessly crossing the street and almost being run over by Nico. “Like it!”
His last phrase couldn’t keep the distortion in anymore and it sounded like a deep roar that came out of his chest like fire. Trish could already see the fangs in his bared teeth: those demons were in for the fight of a lifetime, for everyone knew making Dante’s lover feel unsafe was one of the worst sins in the Sparda dictionary.
Nico opened her mouth to talk to Nero – because, maybe, he could beat some sense into his uncle’s head, given they had the very same heritage – but for the first time she just put the cigarette between her lips and decided to shut up.
She was still getting used to Nero’s new trigger, so the halfway-into-turning state was something Nico didn’t really know how to deal with. By this point, Nero’s nails were definitely claws and his fangs were very much similar to Dante’s. He was fidgeting everywhere, messing with Blue Rose, as if something was really wrong with the gun and he had to fix it – a thousand fucking times. Nico could also swear his eyes were starting to glow with an inhumane gold tinge and that was very alien to her.
“Hey, kid! What about your spidey-sense tingling? Anything new?” Luckily for Nico, she had Trish around – and that woman was a pure devil, so there were very few things she feared. They all knew Nero was getting used to his own new powers, so Trish always decided to stay around and lend a hand whenever Nero had to go through something emotionally heavy – she knew it herself that demon instinct always came crashing like a wild wave whenever emotions were running high.
“Eh, she’s not good too, Trish. Worried as heck, I can feel it.” Nero mumbled under his breath, fixing the barrels of the Blue Rose for the tenth time, probably – not even needing to mention he was talking about Kyrie. With a click, the gun cocked back to its original state and Nero turned his now slightly golden aquamarine eyes to the devil leaning on his seat. “And I don’t like it either. Not at fucking all.”
Nico had to say, it always sent shivers down her spine when Nero spoke with his demonic voice like that. She was used to him being her goofy sort of brother, bickering with her down the road and tossing over-the-top, smart mouthed taunts to demons. Hearing him like that was… Something else. And Nico didn’t like it that much as well.
*
The last time you felt unsafe seemed like a whole lifetime ago.
You tried to control your hands as they wanted to start shaking – but you kept telling yourself you needed to keep Kyrie safe. After all, you were the devil hunter, not her. Kyrie could kill every single one in the crew with kindness, but not those devils… Those had to be killed with blades and gunpowder.
Being with Dante had given you something you never really had before, and just now you noticed it was tied to your red devil: safety. Even if he wasn’t around physically, you could always count on the fact that Dante, son of Sparda, Crimson Slayer, would bend Hell itself around his will to keep you from any kind of harm. It had never downed on you because, up until that point, that was a given.
Today, Halloween of all days, was a little more complicated. Dante wasn’t around, the whole ritual was bound to have some heavy magic to keep him at bay, you were completely unarmed and the demons you were up against were another kind – not the stupid, belligerent type you handled almost on a daily basis; no, those were smart, cunning and dangerous.
To top all of that, you had Kyrie on your side. If you were alone, you’d probably already be trying some unhinged escape attempts, but they were so smart on deciding to kidnap her as well. She was your weak spot on that situation and the fact that you felt unsafe and couldn’t do your best to protect her, only highlighted the fear you started to feel creeping up at the base of your stomach.
Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, the only thing that could at least try to calm your nerves was to imagine being back in Dante’s arms, at the Devil May Cry, the smell of warm pizza around and him humming some old tunes you both loved. That was home. That was your haven. Dante was your refuge, keeping you secure from every evil thing that could attack you in this world, and he wasn’t there.
For a split second, you wondered if he could feel how much your heart was aching – screaming with all its might in the hopes he would hear its call.
Suddenly, two demons entered the room you and Kyrie were being held. They didn’t have to say much: with swords pointed at both of you and the heavy doors wide open, you knew it was time. Knowing you had to calm your nerves so at least she could have a chance to escape, you got up and calmly walked in front of Kyrie – head high and staring those demons right back in their eyes.
“Everything will be ok.” You murmured back over your shoulder, knowing Kyrie would listen. “If you find a safe chance to run, do it and don’t look back. I can handle them better alone.”
You felt Kyrie’s soft hands brushing on one of yours, her voice nothing but a whisper. “Don’t put yourself in danger, y/n. I don’t wanna run without you.”
You closed your eyes, chuckling a little in silence. She was indeed an angel among so many demons – including all of you in the crew. “Oh, Kyrie. You have to learn… The whole crew would die for you, don’t you know that already…?” And even if your words weren’t the kindest, you had the sweetest tone in your voice – saying nothing but the truth. “You run. It’ll take more than a few demons to bring me down.”
Kyrie knew you were lying only to make her feel safer – there was a tinge of bitterness in your sweetness, a slight glint of sadness in your eyes. Those were more than a few demons, and both of you knew it.
She could only sigh in response and confirm with her head. You and Dante were bittersweetly so alike: always lying and pretending nothing was too serious, putting yourselves on the line for those you loved, trying to make them stop worrying while you were both ready to walk right into certain death. She had seen how angry you got every time he tried to pull something like that on you – and Kyrie had to smile even if a little bit upon realizing how similar you and your lover were, even if you hated when he did that.
Both of your thoughts had to be violently changed and brought back to the present moment when the time came to enter what one day was a beautiful, untarnished cathedral. The imposing gothic architecture was in shambles, the stars shining clearly in the deep night sky above your heads – the high peaks of the cathedral long gone. A long tapestry on the ground, torn apart and eaten by parasites, lead the way in a dirty blood red to the middle of the aisle, where a grandiose bonfire stood and lit none other than your groom.
That was definitely not the devil you had intended to marry if you ever walked down the aisle. Also, you always thought if you ever married Dante, the ceremony would be in the Devil May Cry: you would enter the shop, dressed in your best hunting clothes – maybe something leather, carefully picked by Trish to make you even more mesmerizing – watching Dante smiling at you, leaning on his desk, arms crossed and love pouring from his eyes.
That was the perfect marriage for you alright. And leaving for a quick honeymoon with your red devil, riding on the Cavaliere, a few cans tied to it with a “just married” sign on the back, waving at the crew at the door of the shop while Dante made the motorcycle burn the road with its demonic power? More than perfect.
“You shall enter first. The other human stays until your ritual is performed.” One of the demons held Kyrie hostage, pointing your way down the derelict aisle. Her eyes were filled with fear, and you couldn’t do anything but comply.
Holding your head high, you walked down the damned aisle. Not like a perfect fiancé, but like a wronged force of nature, just waiting for the right time to unleash your fury against all those demons. You were wearing those ridiculous clothes, on that ridiculous place, while demons started chanting and playing a song for the demonic ritual that had just started, stripped of your guns, blades and clothes.
To say you wanted to sucker punch Erlach on his face until his sharp teeth fell out was an understatement.
And yet, he had nothing but admiration and fire in his eyes for you. The more you approached, the more he smiled, offering you his hand as you were getting closer and closer – you refused to take it, standing in front of him just like you did when he first talked to you.
“You know, the kidnapping and taking my gear away, I could forgive. But these clothes…?” You pointed down at that hideous thing that was forced to you. “You could’ve done better. A lot better.”
“I judged you by all the mortals I’ve ever met – and now I realize I shouldn’t have done so. Do apologize, exquisite creature.” And Erlach answered your insult with a delighted distorted laugh. You just remained there, looking like you had just stuck a flip flop into a toaster, not knowing what to do. It seemed that the more you tried to repel him, the more Erlach liked you. “But rituals shouldn’t be taken lightly. One should wear the proper attire.”
“To think a demon would’ve dressed his counterpart a lot better and risqué than this…” You sighed, pushing all those ruffles away from your face as he, once more, tried to take your hand and guide you to approach the bonfire. “I thought this was going to be a dual wedding. Where’s your friend?”
“Orcus can try to pull off his ritual after I’m done with mine.” Erlach had a devilish smile pulling his lips up in a distorted line. It was a little… Unsettling. “We… Agreed such a powerful ritual should be done one at a time.”
“Huh. That’ll be before or after you kill him?” You had one eyebrow lifted and Erlach laughed with joy in his voice, now finally forcing you to walk with him towards the bonfire. “You got quite the silver tongue to convince him you’re gonna let him go through with his ritual with his head still on his shoulders.”
“Oh, my dear, you have no idea.” Erlach forced you to spin around and look deep into his eyes, holding you by both of your arms in an iron clasp you couldn’t break away easily without your weapons. “You are very welcome to discover soon enough. I am mesmerized with your cunning and wit – so much better than all those pitiful uninspired creatures I have to live with every day. We will be quite a pair, sweet temptation.”
That admiration was there, that fire burning in his eyes, and… Lust…?! You had to contain a shiver of pure terror thinking a creature like that lusted for you. It wasn’t necessarily his appearance – you did find Dante one hell of a piece of temptation in whatever form he was, be it human, Devil Trigger or even his Sin Devil Trigger – but his soul. Erlach lacked the very thing that made you fall madly and hopelessly for Dante: his golden heart, his gentle soul, his kind eyes and his unapologetic humanity.
That was why it didn’t matter how Dante looked like: you would always fall in love with him. Even if he was just a piece of rock with googly eyes laying on his desk, you would love that rock with all your heart.
“What if I refuse to be your pair?” You had one of your eyebrows raised, trying to hide the fear creeping at the base of your stomach. “As far as I know, all marriages require a resounding yes from both parts. What are you gonna do? Torture me?”
“As tempting as that sounds…” And even if you didn’t show it, your blood certainly froze in your veins for a second. “I fear you would take a very long time to break under such circumstances. The Son of Sparda chose you for your brave heart and hardened soul, I can see that now. Luckily for demonic rituals, the sacrifices don’t need to consent.”
“Oh. I thought I was more than just a disposable piece of meat. I’m hurt.” Masking your fear with jokes and taunts, you had learned that with the very best. Dante had all the blame for that.
“Don’t be, my creature.” Erlach’s words were laced with a laugh while he took a ceremonial dagger from an altar nearby. “That is how humans are usually named in our rituals. You will remain alive, or else, it doesn’t work. I do need your blood… A reasonable amount, but nothing lethal.”
His hand clasped your wrist with a tight grip you couldn’t break from. Your heart started beating faster and faster, as you looked around trying to find Kyrie – crossing her terrified eyes as she watched from the distance, close to the entrance where once was a door, fearing for your life. You wanted to mutter some soothing words for her, but not even you could lie that much: your survival instincts kicked in and your adrenaline spiked. It was now or never, but you had to escape.
Erlach held your arm above a bowl made of pure gold, now darkened with time and stained with all the sacrifices it contained. He spoke some words in demonic language, while the chanting got even more intense – some things you could understand, but the others were lost as your mind became hazy with trying to think what to do.
It was a surprise to all – you closed your free hand in a fist and did exactly what you wanted to do since you saw that hideous thing you were wearing: sucker punch that conceited demon right on his face.
Erlach was taken aback for a moment, looking back at you with confused eyes. Seizing his distraction, you disarmed him and took the ceremonial dagger to yourself, cutting his hand that held your wrist and demanding him to let you go. Erlach stumbled back in awe, while you took a fighting stance with the dagger in your hand, ready to kill – but not ready to get married.
And he smiled.
“Such fire…!” To say Erlach was ecstatic was an underestimation. “My creature… What are you going to do with that?” And he took a predator stance, as both of you studied your options in that fight.
If you could look back at Kyrie, you would see her smiling and supporting you as much as she could. To say she admired you, was to say you only liked Dante.
“I am going to kill every single demon in this cathedral… Including you.” Pointing the dagger at Erlach, it was your turn to allow a devilish smile to cover your lips. “Then, I’m taking my friend back home. Back into the arms of the only devil I will ever love. Back to Dante.”
As you spoke, you didn’t even hear a ragged guitar faintly playing in the background – and approaching ominously. The only thing you had in mind was a tunnel focus on Erlach, ready to tear him apart as soon as he got close to you.
“Oh, I will enjoy that, my creature. And I might even need to get rid of Dante myself.” As soon as he finished his sentence, though, you scoffed in a laughter of pure mockery.
“Now that, you would try. Dante is so much more than you will ever be – he will reduce you to ashes with a single stare. That’s how pitiful you are compared to him, Erlach.” As your words poured, you couldn’t stop laughing at how he looked slightly insulted. Fucking finally. “And I gotta say, that’s not the only thing Dante is really good at. He does burn like fire.”
“I will enjoy subduing you.” Erlach growled, baring his teeth. Now you managed to piss him off.
“I will enjoy watching you try.” You wouldn’t allow him too much time to think: spinning the blade in your hand for a better grip, you finally tried to stab him with a swift attack – but he easily dodged as you got even angrier at that ridiculous clothing you were wearing. Those frills and terrible fabric made your movement a lot debilitated.
You tried a few other attacks as Erlach dodged and started smiling again, enjoying every bit of it – starting to even try a few attacks, while you blocked with the dagger. It was all too fast… At the same pace of the guitar that now echoed loudly, with a very familiar song approaching the chorus.
“Now, my creature.” Erlach held your hand with the dagger when you tried another stab. Even if you were resisting, it was more entertaining than anything else: you needed your gear. He pulled you closer to him, even if you tried to stay away as much as you could. “It’s time to stop the fun. We can do this after the ritual.”
Before any of you could do anything else, the guitar finally arrived – with the screeching of what seemed a thousand tires, the smell of gasoline and the sound of a shot from a gun you knew so well.
Said shot hit the dagger, making it shatter into a thousand little pieces in your hand, causing Erlach to let go of you in a reflex – while AC/DC’s vocalist screamed he would shoot to thrill, play to kill.
“Well, I think we’re all ready for the afterparty, aren’t we, hot stuff?”
Dante had entered down the aisle with Cavaliere screeching, leaving a trail of fire behind him, stopping right in the middle to shoot that ceremonial dagger into oblivion. The smoke was still fresh on the barrel of his gun, while he had one foot on the ground, still mounted on his motorcycle, smirking at you with that gorgeous smile that, today, you wanted to kiss out of his mouth with so much passion the crew would probably have to throw a whole bucket of water on both of you to put out the fire.
And, right behind him, Nico crashed what was left of the cathedral’s door while blasting AC/DC’s Shoot to Thrill because she would be damned if she didn’t put a good soundtrack for that moment. You could see her smiling behind the wheel, supporting every single bit of Dante’s antics.
The smile that painted your lips – a broad one, mixed with thrill and relief – was everything Dante wanted to see. That was all the confirmation he needed to know that pull in his chest was actually your heart desperately calling for him to help.
“Ya know, I could forgive the kidnapping, you got one hell of a devil hunter in your hands to deal with…” Dante now let go of Cavaliere, leaving it in the middle of the cathedral, walking down the aisle with the sassy walk you always loved to see – moving his hips and opening his arms, taunting with a pretended carefree attitude. The distortion in his voice, sharp teeth and claws betrayed his words, though – and you couldn’t be happier. “But what’s the deal with those clothes?!”
“Exactly.” You smiled back, sighing as if someone there finally understood you. Erlach just looked at you and back at Dante trying to contain his surprise – it wasn’t possible you were synchronized in even that. “I can barely move, how am I supposed to kick his ass?”
“I can help ya with that, pretty eyes.” Dante’s voice now became darker, leaning even further into his Devil Trigger. For a split second, you could swear you saw his demonic form taking over before Dante appeared again. His eyes were almost entirely taken by red, his hand already gripping the hilt of Rebellion. “But I gotta deal with a few of these clowns first.”
“I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” You had the proudest of smiles on your lips as the demons started to approach, ready to fight your red devil. “Show them what a real party looks like.”
“Ya don’t have to ask twice!”
“What are you all waiting for?!” As soon as Erlach screamed, the demons ran towards Dante as a pack of rabid creatures, ready to take his blood. Erlach smiled with pride as they surrounded the Crimson Slayer, already pouncing to take a bite – there was no way a hybrid could take so many demons at once in a fight.
Looking at the crew’s van, you managed to see Lady leaning by the vehicle, watching it all with excitement but refusing to get into the fight. You almost laughed upon seeing Trish holding Nero’s jacket while he tried to let himself go from her iron tight grip, probably saying he should be in the fight too – but his eyes weren’t locked on Dante or the swarming demons: Nero was looking for Kyrie.
And you would’ve done the same, finally questioning yourself where they were keeping her after all that confusion took over the ritual. Nero could very well let himself go of Trish, but everyone knew he had his own priority – a priority you couldn’t find, and that fact started worrying you.
You would have given that a better thought if a sudden fiery explosion hadn’t sent demons flying around the cathedral like fireworks. Dante’s Devil Trigger was on, but not his normal one… It was his Sin Devil Trigger in all his demonic glory, with leathery wings hovering him from the floor and Devil Sword Dante burning like fire in his hands.
To say that would be a slaughter… Again, would be putting it lightly. With the masterfully chosen soundtrack by Nico blasting on the background, Dante single handedly slayed all the demons that decided to cross between you and him. You risked a side look to Erlach, only to find the demon astonished by Dante’s form and power – and you couldn’t resist. You leaned on the altar next to you, with a matter-of-fact look in your eyes.
“He usually has this effect on people… And demons.” You had to say it. You just couldn’t refrain from taunting and annoying that silly devil who forced you to wear those terrible wedding clothes.
With the Devil Sword Dante dripping blood, the son of Sparda approached as he slayed all the demons that tried to fight. Dante was a frightening powerhouse – usually terrifying, but today even more… After all, the human he loved most in all dimensions was kidnapped by a conceited demon who thought he would have the chance to bind his beloved in a marriage ritual without their consent. Dante was beyond angry.
“It will only be an obstacle, then.” Erlach turned his eyes back to you. “Don’t think for a second I gave up, my creature. If I have to kill the son of Sparda, I will do so – with the power you will grant me with your blood.”
Once again, the demon held your arm – but this time, digging the nails into your skin, making you scream with the sudden pain. That made Dante immediately turn to you, being hit as well and inundating the cathedral with the smell of the blood of Sparda. His fighting became sloppy as he tried to approach you even faster – but it also became even more vicious.
Erlach dragged you back to the sacrificial bowl, as you tried to get away. Even with your fighting, your limited movements weren’t helping too much. As he extended your arm above the bowl, you managed to see – behind him, in the distance, covered in shadows – Orcus holding Kyrie hostage, searching everywhere for a breech so he could finish his ritual before Erlach.
“Nero! Kyrie is over there! Go kick his ass, kid!” You screamed while fighting so Erlach couldn’t drip your blood into the bowl. Yes, he needed more than a few drops from the gashes from his claws – but he could make them bigger once you were in a decent position. And you didn’t want to give him that.
“Kyrie! I’m coming for you!” And finally, after his aquamarine eyes found Kyrie’s plea for help, Nero did let go of Trish with ease – and the she-devil didn’t even try to hold him back. With just a smile on her face, the woman looked back at Lady and they knew it was time to intervene now that both of you were located and they wouldn’t risk any of your lives.
Amidst all that, with Dante literally burning his way towards you while being held back by three demons, a few invisible cuts made them fall apart and gush blood all over the floor. Vergil entered the cathedral, while carrying an old book you saw at Erlach’s office earlier that night – the book with all the ancient, and most forbidden, devilish incantations.
“Go on, Dante. I’ll take it from here.” Vergil barely looked at the demons he was fighting with: holding the book with one hand and being assisted by summoned swords, he only needed a few well placed judgement cuts to get rid of all those nuisances.
Dante didn’t even think twice after hearing his brother’s words. Marching down the aisle, he approached you and Erlach like a death omen – his demonic form in his ultimate Devil Trigger was enough to inspire respect even in the upper echelon of Hell.
And you had to say, you were proud of that.
“Let y/n go, Erlach.” As Dante commanded, you couldn’t fail to notice his voice was slightly… Different. The more he approached, the more his voice sounded less distorted and more human. “Ya know, for a demon with such a pretentious plan, you’d think you’d put up more of a difficult fight.” And when Dante stopped right in front of the altar between you both, he was completely human – looking at you with the sky blue eyes you loved so much. “I’m barely breakin’ a sweat.”
If Erlach’s claws weren’t deep into your skin, you would’ve locked your arms around his neck already, taking in his scent and calming down your heart. Yes, Dante would be smelling of gunpowder, blood and sweat, but that was still his scent. It was enough to make you feel secure again.
“Indeed. I underestimated you.” Erlach’s claws dug out of your skin, making you retreat quickly. You managed to see a little commotion where Kyrie and Nero were before, but with everything that was happening, you couldn’t quite make the moment where Orcus was nowhere to be seen – all you could be sure was that Kyrie was safe, back into Nero’s arms. And that was enough. “It seems like the blood of Sparda still thrives to this day.”
“Yeah, yeah, daddy’s blood and all that…” Dante rolled his eyes, shooting near Erlach’s feet. The demon jumped back, farther away from you – and that made you smile. “Spit it out, spook. How did you find out ‘bout the ritual? Where did ya get that book?”
“Apparently you never heard of a library. On that aspect, I win, my creature.” Erlach still had that weird admiration in his eyes for you, making you wince. You never gave him a single reason to like you. Demons had to be masochist creatures.
“Oh, I heard about those alright. It just so happens my brother here has spent a very long vacation time in Hell and lemme tell ya…” With those words, Dante finally took Erlach by his neck, leaning the demon over the sacrificial bowl and touching the blade of Rebellion on his neck. Dante usually didn’t get that feral… But Erlach had tried him a little bit too much that night. “He doesn’t have very nice words about you and your little friends. Those rituals aren’t well known in detail. Something gave you that book. Who?”
It wasn’t a side of Dante you liked to see, but, when dealing with those kinds of demons, it was a necessary one. Erlach, as far as you could tell, wasn’t just your dumb daily demon – he was in the upper echelon. And said echelon only became worse the higher the rank.
“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” Erlach laughed even if the sword already started to nick some blood out of his thick demonic skin. “You will have to let me go to get your answer. If you don’t, no deal.”
You closed your eyes, sighing. Erlach was the deal kind of demon. And it was always a slippery slope with those silver tongue devils.
Dante knew that as well. His heart screamed at him to kill Erlach and let his blood run over the floor of the cathedral – to take you home safely and let you know that threat would never loom over you again.
But they needed answers. Only very high rank demons would have access to that kind of book – to those kinds of rituals. Demons like Sparda… Like Mundus. And that was something none of them wanted as a threat. The single thought of the possibility of Mundus being alive made him shiver and his blood boil. His house burned in his childhood, his family slaughtered like animals, his past stained in blood and sulfur. He didn’t want that to happen again. He wouldn’t let that happen again. Not to anyone in the crew, not to his nephew, not to his brother… Not to you.
Dante let Erlach go. The demon cracked his neck, gaining his posture once again. You stood by Dante’s side, ready to suplex Erlach into oblivion if he tried anything funny.
“The two of you already have what you need to know the answer.” Erlach pointed at the book in Vergil’s hands, moving his gaze back to you soon after. “I will have you as mine, y/n. You have my word, sweet creature.”
Before you could do anything in response, Erlach set himself ablaze in flames that kept burning for a few seconds while he disappeared back to where he came from – probably Hell, if you had to guess.
“Eh. We should’ve known he would leave without giving us a decent answer.” You sighed, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time that night, knowing all demons were dead and you were around safe people again.
“And even shamelessly flirtin’ with ya, what’s up with that…?”
“No idea, red devil. I did my best for him to hate me; apparently it backfired tremendously.”
You finally turned to look at each other. Both of you looked tired, completely out of energy – you, from your human body; Dante from the toll all that fiery explosion of anger and demonic heritage could take on him. His eyes, though… Those sky blue eyes, looked at you with the human kindness you always longed for – with the admiration and fire of a lover, but the gentleness of a soul who was not only your mate, but your home.
You felt safe again. All that insecurity, that fear, that horror of being alone and having to fight on your own – to survive on your own – it washed away in that infinite blue sky. He was your home, and you were safe. Nothing bad would ever happen to you, for Dante was there to catch you and hold you in his arms until you felt you could walk with certainty again.
“I heard you, pretty eyes…” Dante murmured, taking a strand of hair out of your dirty face, watching with amusement as you furrowed your brows. He took one of his hands over his heart, eyes looking into yours. “I heard you here.”
A gradual smile lit up your face as you understood what he had said. That pull, that thing you did, of closing your eyes and praying he would find you… It worked. Of course it worked. And you couldn’t be happier, with all that pouring like a golden fountain from your heart, making your eyes laminate with a few tears and threaten to overflow.
“I’m glad you did, cowboy.” You approached him, cradling his face with your hands and leaning him down so his forehead could touch yours. “I’m glad you did. I prayed so loud for you.”
With that, you took his hand to touch your heart, in the hopes he would once again listen – but this time hear the golden tunes it sang along the overflow. The frills of the ridiculous attire didn’t allow him to find your beat, though.
“Well, I told ya I’d get rid of that, right?” Dante sighed, staring down at that horrid attire – although he would argue you could never look bad. Even with that thing on. “Ei! All of ya, look away! I’m puttin’ y/n out of their misery!”
“What…?”
Before you could finish asking, though, Dante masterfully moved Rebellion around you – while everyone turned away or closed their eyes. Lady and Trish, though, just kept staring at that goof of a man you called your lover. Within a few seconds, those terrifying wedding clothes tore apart, pooling around your feet on the floor while you just stared back at your red devil – the chilly air of the night all around your bare skin.
“That was hot.” You had to say it while Dante quickly checked you out like the masterpiece he always thought you were.
“Not as hot as you, babe.” With a wink, Dante took off his red coat, wrapping it around you and making you warm again.
You loved wearing Dante’s coat. It was definitely too big for you, but it was always warm – that night, you could almost say it seemed like it was enveloped in flames. But it had his scent all over it and it fit like a huge cape you could almost drag on the ground. You couldn’t have asked for a better attire for that evening.
“Hey.” As you called for his attention, those blue eyes rested on you again, little by little settling all that restlessness that whole ordeal had set in your soul. And, since words weren’t enough, you once again cradled his face with your hands, this time placing a well-deserved kiss on your lover’s lips.
Dante giggled between your lips, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to lift you off the floor – making it easier for you to kiss him unapologetically. You never saw yourself as a damsel in distress, and you would have killed every demon in that room with a dagger and your teeth if it was necessary, but it wasn’t. And that was so new: you could always count on Dante to be there for you, to protect you and to be a place for you to fall whenever you lost your balance.
Your heart stopped screaming and Dante’s soul found peace again.
*
“Ah, I see Nero stole Dante’s idea.”
As you saw Kyrie leaving the van’s bathroom wearing nothing but Nero’s coat, she smiled happily back at you while showing it off as soon as you pointed that out. You were sitting in the van, still in the red coat – Dante would know only later that decision would cost him his sanity while trying to get his coat back from you. A few chases and him gripping you tight to get his coat back was in store for the rest of that night.
“It was a very good idea.” Kyrie had a mischievous smile on her lips, blushing a little bit while grabbing the collar of Nero’s coat and taking in the scent. “It smells like him. It feels like he’s always around.”
“I know what you mean.” You smiled proudly as an answer, barely noticing Nico staring at both of you while Lady and Trish giggled.
“Ya know what she means…? That coat is nasty!” Nico pointed at the blue coat enveloping the crew’s little angel, making you laugh a little bit more. “And yours?! If Nero’s coat is bad, Dante’s even worse! Looks like he just blasted from the insides of a frog demon or somethin’! And you say it has his scent?!” The gunsmith couldn’t be more revolted at yours and Kyrie’s antics.
“That’s Dante’s scent for ya...” You sighed, leaning back on the van’s seat – something quite red devilish like. “Gunpowder, demon’s blood and sweat. When he’s clean, though, it’s more of a woody and musky with a hint of pizza kind of scent. Sometimes strawberries.”
“Apparently, love doesn’t make us only blind, it makes our sense of smell completely absent.” Trish strutted her way towards the seat she always took in the van, across from you, having a complacent smile on her devil lips.
“It makes us more tolerant.” Kyrie sat by your side, completely happy to be wearing Nero’s clothes and safe and sound with the crew again. “That is a thing most people need to learn more about.”
“As always, angel Kyrie is right.” Lady sighed, taking her spot inside the van – after lightly elbowing Nico just to tease the gunsmith. “Just like we tolerate the smell of your cigarettes.”
“Hey, at least I’m not turning into a fuming creature blasting demon viscera everywhere!” Nico pointed at Lady with her cigarette between her fingers, making all of you laugh. “Must take days to get those things off your hair!”
“Sometimes, it takes even weeks!” Dante’s voice added from outside of the van, entering soon after to take his seat right by your side. To say Dante would be hovering around you for months, overly protecting you over anything and everything, was a very mild way to describe his behavior after that evening.
“Ya know, once I found a piece of liver hidden right behind my ear…?” Nero approached Nico as she just glared at him with pure disgust. “Took me days to find it.”
“You’re nasty, demon boy.” Nico lightly shoved Nero out of the way, dismissing all that conversation to go back to the stirring wheel. Nero laughed back, making his way to Kyrie and sitting by her side, cradling her with one of his arms while she rested her head on his chest.
“We couldn’t find more on the origin of their knowledge…” Vergil was the last one to board, closing the van’s door behind him. As soon as he did, Nico started driving back home – and he showed you a few things he had in his hands. “But we did find your gear. I will keep it in a safe place until we get back to the shop.”
“Oh, thank you so much, Verge!” You had genuine relief in your voice, watching as he carefully placed your sword next to him. “I thought I’d never see those things again. Thanks for finding them.”
As always, Vergil didn’t answer, just bowed his head as the perfect gentleman he was. Soon, Dante’s arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.
“Huh, so much thankfulness for Vergil, while I was the one who saved your ass from that demon lord. I’m feeling a little ignored.” Of course, you knew Dante was only joking – never in all your time together you picked up any sign of jealousy he could have of you and Vergil. Dante was very secure about your relationship, knowing quite well where your heart rested – he would be insecure, sometimes, when it came to other humans.
“Oh, c’mon. How can I not be thankful when it’s my gear we’re talking about?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him back – which only made Dante smile. “Now being a little more serious, it was rough being stripped of everything. Even with that hideous frilly attire, I felt completely naked. There’s no way for me to defend myself without all my stuff; I don’t have demonic blood running through my veins to go into a rampage and kill every single living thing in front of me.”
“Well, lucky for you, I got that goin’ for me.” Dante brought you even closer, tightening his half hug around you.
“Hmmm…” You took some time to take in his scent, this time directly from his neck, right in front of you. Yes, all those things you mentioned before, but you could always find the woody and musky Dante scent underneath all of that. And maybe it was that which made you feel so comfortable and secure. “I was scared. I was running out of options when you showed up.”
“Shhh, don’cha think ‘bout that, pretty eyes.” Whenever you voiced how uncomfortable you were with something, Dante immediately started caressing you just to at least make you feel physically comfortable again. And you had to say, it always worked.
“I know, I know… It’s just… I know I can always count on you to appear at the direst of moments, no matter where I am.” With those words, you placed one of your hands above his heart, making those sky blue eyes look back into yours. “I know you can hear me call, no matter what.”
“It’s part of the demon thing, babe.” Even though he was happy with that, Dante had a bittersweet smile on his lips.
“Yeah, maybe… But demons don’t show up to save desperate souls who are praying for them when all other options have failed.” You brushed aside some strands of dirty hair that insisted on covering those beautiful eyes – now looking at you with curiosity and admiration. “Do you know who do?”
“Hmmm…?”
“Angels do.” Your answer was but a murmur, even quieter than the engines of the van. “You are my very own guardian angel, Dante.”
Lady once said that, somewhere out there, even a devil may cry when he loses a loved one – but you would dare to add that devils did cry when they were loved back.
Your red devil was living proof of that on that Halloween night.
#devil may cry#devil may cry imagine#dmc#dmc imagine#dante x reader#dante imagine#devil may cry fanfiction#dmc fanfiction#dmc dante#dante sparda#devil may halloween#the ripping the dress apart scene#I'm SUCH a fan of Zorro#and Antonio Banderas does that with Catherine Zeta Jones in the 1st movie#BOOM one of my fave things right there when I saw it for the first time#Dante was raised on Zorro and I'll die on this hill#alsoooo couldn't resist making Erlach a character that may or may not appear again#something about having a demon lord fall in love with Dante/Vergil's s/o sounds so funny to me#I have to make that a recurrent theme#and the 'I'd love you even if you were a rock with googly eyes' is indeed a reference to Everything Everywhere All At Once#just recently watched with my mom and was devastated and happy at the same time#some people we would love even in the rock dimension#I hope you guys like it!! even if it took forever to post!! T-T
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