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#i wanted more as well but i understand that by the end it was still something that needed to develop and if there had been more episodes
beenbaanbuun · 3 days
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Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.
If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!
Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.
thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333
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seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.
upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’
“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.
“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”
hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.
he made you cry…
hongjoong made you cry…
it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.
“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”
“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”
the rug in front of the fire—jongho.
hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.
he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.
in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.
the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.
at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…
“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”
there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.
“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”
“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.
“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.
it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…
“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”
you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.
“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.
“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”
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emocheol · 23 hours
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first kiss with seventeen
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seungcheol
gets all nervous
has been planning this for weeks
wants it to be so good so bad that he ends up colliding his forehead with yours when he’s going in
gets all red from embarrassment and makes you swear to never tell anyone about it (so of course you tell everyone)
“please tell me that wasn’t the worst first kiss you’ve had”
“well if that’s what you want to hear…”
jeonghan
makes you make the first move
can tell that you’ve been wanting to kiss him since you’re always looking at his lips, just wants to make you work for it
will spend the entire day teasing you by getting close and then pulling away
you have to grab his face and hold him there to finally kiss him
he won’t ever let you live down the fact that technically you made the first move
“you’re obsessed with me, huh?”
“you’ve been teasing me all day!”
“doesn’t change the fact”
joshua
extremely confident
just makes out with you when he feels the timing is right
can’t get enough and will not stop kissing you
becomes a norm in your relationship for him to kiss you every second he gets
“why are you always kissing me?”
“why? can’t i show my partner how much i love them?”
jun
shy shy shy
makes a whole romantic date and at the end he asks if it’s okay to kiss you
is soooo nervous that you’re going to say no, but of course you say yes
swears that fireworks explode when your lips touch
he is so whipped for you
“i think im in love with you”
“what was that?”
“uhhh i think we need more glue!”
soonyoung
gives it no thought
just spontaneously kisses you when he gets extra happy one day
“babe! look our song is number 1!” and presses a bunch of kisses on your lips
all he remembers is how nice it feels to kiss you
continues to kiss you whenever he feels like it and loves it twice as much whenever you initiate it
“soonyoung! you just kissed me!”
“yeah! did you not like it? :(”
“no it’s okay, do it again”
wonwoo
quite simple about it
will pucker his lips at you and wait for you to kiss him
won’t get embarrassed over it either
he’s in love with you! he’s not scared to show his affection
“wonwoo what are you doing?”
“waiting for you to kiss me, angel”
jihoon
heat of the moment kiss
everything feels so right
feels like he’d be doing you a disservice if he didn’t kiss you
is the most gentle man on the planet and holds your face in his hands
will let you take control of the kiss, just this one time
you’ll be grinning like an idiot
“what was that for?”
“just felt right”
minghao
encourages you to kiss him first
you just got promoted at your job and you’re over the moon about it, so you’re celebrating with minghao
“you can kiss me if you want” he’ll say as if it’s the most casual sentence ever
you get all shy and press a sweet kiss to his lips
he’ll take the lead
“don’t be shy, sweetheart”
“you’re just too handsome :(”
mingyu
he’ll be sick and sulking because he wants to go on your planned date but he can’t get out of bed
profusely apologizes but you won’t accept them because it’s not his fault!
when he won’t stop rambling you’ll lean down and kiss him to shut up him
when you pull away he has a dopey smile on his face
“do that again!”
“i can’t risk getting sick…”
“i’ll nurse you back to health”
pulls you down to him, and pecks your lips a bunch of times
seokmin
#1 gentleman
wine and dine
“i totally understand if you’re not ready but, can i kiss you?” SWOON
makes you feel like the most special person on the planet
will still ask you if he can kiss you multiple times after that
“can i kiss you?”
“seokmin we’ve been together for a year”
“doesn’t hurt to ask!”
seungkwan
smooth so so smooth
you’ll be playing a game and the prize is the winner gets to make the loser do whatever they want
seungkwan wins (of course)
pretends to think about what he wants even though he knows
“kiss me”
“what?!”
“i won so i want you to kiss me”
cue you being a blushing mess and giving seungkwan a light kiss
vernon
gets home from work one day and kisses you when he walks through the door
you’re shocked and he’s acting like it’s an every day occurrence
doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it
(he’s secretly been wanting to kiss you for weeks)
“what was that for?”
“just missed you, baby”
this becomes a regular occurrence when he gets home from work now
chan
nervous as hell
wants to be smooth and he is!
until he’s not
accidentally bites your tongue (a/n: i have had a man bite my tongue before and it hurt for a week)
profusely apologies but he’s such a cutie, how can you be mad?
“i’m so sorry, do you want me to get ice?”
“no, chan, just kiss me again”
does it right this time
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The Lamb & The Serpent
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, awkwardness, angst, Lucifers past relationship with Lilith, misunderstandings, all the angst, Lilith being a bit of a bitch, mistakes are made, heartbreak, jealous Lilith, or is she just manipulative, who knows, I do I know.
Please click -> here <- to read on AO3
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Lucifer was a mess.
It had been days since Lilith had shown up on his doorstep, acting like it wasn’t a huge deal she was back and looking just as perfect as she had when she had walked out on him all those years ago. Things had gone badly. Admittedly Lucifer hadn’t handled the situation very well, probably making it ten times worse than it should have been. He had never been all that good at dealing with strong emotions though, neither his own nor other peoples. Nor was he any good with highly stressful situations and unfortunately for him, Lilith’s return covered both those things. It probably wouldn’t have gone so badly if you had been at his side keeping him grounded and calm, but he had managed to mess that up as well, potentially ruining one of the two good things he had going in his life.
Lucifer had still been struck dumb, staring at Lilith like the world was ending when you had come down the stairs, all sleep soft and wearing nothing but your matching duck slippers and the shirt he had been wearing the day before. He hadn’t noticed at first, seemingly frozen to the spot but he had seen Lilith’s eyes flick up to something behind him, her smile falling into a frown as she narrowed her eyes. It had been your confused call of “Lucifer?” that finally had him moving, slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes franticly moved between the two of them, searching for some kind of explanation and clearly growing more worried when you didn’t get one.
Hindsight was a beautiful thing and as Lucifer looked back on what had happened that day, he wished that he had gone to you then. He wished that he had wrapped you in his arms and sworn he hadn’t known she was coming back. He should have told you then and there that he loved you, that he wanted to spend the rest of forever with you and that there was nothing left between him and Lilith for you to be worried about. He should have done a lot of things, things that would have saved you and him a lot of pain and heartbreak, but he hadn’t and instead Lucifer had gotten to watch as hurt and embarrassment flashed across your face, Lilith’s voice loud and clear as she asked, “really Luci, a sinner?”
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You had tugged down the hem of his shirt, your embarrassed blush deepening as you tried to hide the fact you were naked underneath. His shirt wasn’t quite long enough though and all you did was flash them a glimpse of the teeth marks he had left on your neck the night before; still angry and red despite having been done hours ago. Lucifer didn’t know what Lilith had done but your eyes had snapped to her, going wide as you pressed a hand over the marks on your neck. Tears welled up, clinging to your lashes and threatening to fall but you had been quicker, hurriedly insisting that you “should go,” before you had turned away from them, disappearing up the stairs as quickly as you could whilst pulling the back of his shirt down.  
He had just stood there, staring at the spot you had been and failing to understand what was going on. This wasn’t how the day was supposed to go. Lucifer had plans, had wanted to spend the day wrapped within your arms and basking in the love and happiness that you inspired within him. Everything was wrong though, that happiness having vanished the moment he opened the door. It was like the last eight years hadn’t happened, Lucifer right back at the beginning of the end for his and Lilith’s relationship. He felt like a hollowed-out shell, mind numb and empty as he continued to exist who no purpose or direction in his life, alone and unwanted. Lucifer knew that wasn’t true though. Things had changed so much since Lilith had left; he had changed. He wasn’t the same sad and broken man he had been, having found a new lease of life with Charlie, the hotel and you. He knew all this and yet that didn’t change a thing, Lucifer was still adrift within the darkness of his mind, trapped in the past and watching his future slip away.
Delicate fingers curled around his wrist, a thumb gently rubbing circles against the delicate skin. Wordlessly Lucifer turned back toward Lilith, eyes fixed on where they were touching. Her fingers were cool, her pail lilac skin in stark contrast against the dark black of his own. Before, when they had still been happy and in love this had meant everything to him. He had craved her touch, lighting up like a star when she so much as brushed a finger against his. After she had left Lucifer had longed for it, dreamed about feeling it one last time and crying when the memory of it had started to fade. He had been a mess to start with, missing her like he had lost a limb, but as the years had passed he had come to terms with it, missing the closeness of another more than her specifically. Now it felt like a band of ice around his wrist, a chain that weighed him down and dragged him back to the past where he desperately didn’t want to be.
It hadn’t felt like they had been stood there that long but the sound of hurried steps on the stairs said otherwise, Lucifer so caught up in his head that you had enough time to get dressed and pack the small bag you had slung over your shoulder. He had turned to look at you, Lilith’s icy cold grip still in place and chasing away his natural heat. Lucifer didn’t feel right, all out of sorts and halfway between loosing control and shutting down completely. Maybe if he had a better grip on his mental state, he would have shaken Lilith off, dropped down to his knees in front of you and begged for you to stay. He didn’t though and when he turned to look at you all he found was resignation and loss, your gaze focused on where he and Lilith touched.
You didn’t even look at him as you walked past, head down and eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Not even when he said your name, sounding just as desperate and lost as he felt. You did stop though, head turned ever so slightly in his direction so you could tell him that “its ok Lucifer, just, we’ll talk later yeah?” You don’t stick around long enough for him to answer, pressing yourself against the wall just to be as far away from Lilith as you can. Without even a glance backwards you disappeared down the street, pulling your hood up as you went to hide your ears. It wasn’t until after you had gone that Lucifer realised that you had still had his shirt on, the slightly rumbled fabric only just visible under your jacket.
It cracked his heart to watch you go, the feeling that he had just lost something important sinking into him like a weight. It’s to much like watching Lilith walk out all those years ago, except this time Lucifer doesn’t want to let you go. Doesn’t want to just stand there and let this happen because he doesn’t want to lose you. Doesn’t want to wake up seven years from now alone and depressed, hating himself for not doing something to keep you by his side. He can’t go through that again, he won’t. Lucifer loves you, more than he thought he would ever be able to love another again. If he could tell you that, if he could make you understand the depths of his devotion to you than maybe you wouldn’t look at him like he had ripped your heart out and trodden on it. Maybe you would say it back to him and Lucifer would get to hold you in his arms again.
He doesn’t even realise his halfway out the door until Lilith’s grip tightens, your name dying on his lips as he snapped his head back to glare at her. He had been halfway through demanding she let go when Lilith had cut him off, her voice gentle and calming as she urged him to “let her go Lucifer. You’ll only make things worse for her if you make a scene out on the street, especially looking like that.” It’s only then that Lucifer really notices his state of dress. Feeling exposed and embarrassed Lucifer had curled in slightly on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest in an attempt to hide his half-undressed state. It was stupid, Lilith had seen him with far less on before but now he felt vulnerable, ashamed of the state he was in. Not because of what he had obviously been doing with you to get in this state but because of Lilith herself. She looked immaculate, not a hair out of place or a single smudge to her makeup. She looked every bit the queen of Hell, stood tall and proud like everyone was beneath her and in that moment Lucifer felt just that, his fears and inadequacies come rushing forward and swallow him whole.
Lilith was right. If he went after you now, he would only make things worse for you. He was good at that, making things worse despite his best intentions. You were clearly hurt, thinking Heaven knows what about him and why Lilith was at his door.  You had needed him to reassure you of your place in his life and his feelings towards you, but he had done nothing like the pathetic coward he was. He didn’t deserve you, had known it all along yet he had still pursued you, somehow managing to convince you to give him your time and affection but all it had gotten you was hurt, and it was all his fault. He never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to be the reason you looked so lost and broken and yet here he was. The very reason you had fled his home with tears in your eyes after having given him one of the best nights of his life. Why was he like this? Everything he loved always got twisted around and turned into shit, like his very touch was a plague on all of creation.
So lost in his darkening thoughts, Lucifer didn’t even realise he had been moved away from the door and led into the parlour until Lilith was gently pushing him down onto the couch, her ice-cold hands pressing down on his shoulders until he slumped back into the plush seat. She sunk down next to him, close and yet somehow miles away. They sat in silence for a while, Lucifer trying to keep his tears at bay so he didn’t seem even more pathetic than he already did. He was the first to speak, unable to stand the silence a moment longer. His voice sounded as small and broken as he felt, it nothing more than a whisper as he asked her “why are you here Lilith? Why now?”
As it turned out Charlie was the reason she had come back, having heard about the hotel and the fight with Heaven that their daughter had led. Lilith had been worried and impressed, proud of Charlie for standing up for what she believed was right whilst afraid of how Heaven would retaliate with Adam dead at the hands of a sinner. Lucifer had sat there, listening to Lilith talk about Charlie, the hotel and Hell like she hadn’t been gone for almost eight years, not really paying attention as his mind began to fill with static. It was all just pointless noise to him, Lucifer mindlessly humming and nodding along at what he hoped were all the right points. He felt numb, hollowed out and empty. This morning he had been so happy, full of hope and excitement for the future but now it was all gone, Lucifer unable to drag those feelings back up despite how badly he wanted to.
He wanted to go back to this morning, to the very moment he had opened his eyes and realised you were in his arms. He would do things so much differently. He would have woken you up there and then to tell you how much he loved you, told you of his intentions to make you his queen one day and asked for your permission to scream his devotion to you from his window for all of Hell to hear. He wouldn’t have gone downstairs, definitely wouldn’t have answered the door no matter how loudly or persistently Lilith had knocked. Lucifer would have stayed wrapped up in you, safe in your embrace and completely ignorant of the world beyond his bedroom walls. Maybe then you would still be here with him. Maybe then Lucifer wouldn’t feel like he was already losing you before he even had the chance to truly have you.
Charlie had turned up at the door not even an hour after you had left, eyes wide and full of disbelief as she stared at Lilith like she wasn’t sure if her mother was real or not. Apparently when you had arrived back at the hotel you had run straight into Charlie, barely managing to get out that “your mums back in town,” before you practically ran off in the direction of your room. Charlie hadn’t stopped to think things through, running all the way to Lucifers home to find out if you had been telling the truth.
Not wanting Charlie to see him in such a state, Lucifer had simply waved his hand and he had been stood there in his suit, his hair perfectly quaffed and not a single trace of flour to be found. It hadn’t been till later that Lucifer had realised his rushed gesture had also gotten rid of the melted candles and flower petals from the night before, his heart clenching painfully at the fact that it was all gone. His night of love and passion with you swept away like it was nothing. Like it was something shameful to be hidden away from those closest to him.
It had been easy enough for Lucifer to fake a smile, greeting Charlie with a level of enthusiasm he really couldn’t muster. She had given him a confused and worried look, but it had been easy enough to direct her attention onto Lilith, Charlie eager to fill her mother in on everything she had missed. For hours Lucifer had listened to Charlie talk about everything and anything that had happened in her life since Lilith had left, skipping no detail though she often got ahead of herself and had to backtrack so what she was saying made sense. The whole time Lucifer had said nothing, fake smile still in place as he summoned cake and tea periodically throughout the day. Charlie tried to get him involved but his short one-word answers didn’t really open up the conversation. The only thing that got any sort of reaction from him was the mention of you, Charlie excitedly telling Lilith about how nice you were and how helpful you had been with the hotel, completely oblivious to the fact Lucifer had gone rigid at the mention of your name.
Lilith had seemed worryingly interested in you, shooting Lucifer knowing looks that had him wanting to sink into the sofa and disappear. He felt judged, like Lilith was pulling apart every little thing about him and inspecting it for flaws, weaknesses that could be exploited. He didn’t want her attention on you, didn’t want you to feel the same level of uneasiness he did so he tried to move the conversation on, his laugh clearly fake and not hiding his nerves in the slightest as he insisted that Lilith didn’t want to hear about his personal life. Lilith had easily brushed off his attempts, asking if the “helpful little lamb at the hotel is the same one I found half naked on your stairs this morning? I must say Lucifer she looked quite, ravished. Do you take all the hotel staff home or just this one in particular?” Charlie had blushed at that, falling uncomfortably silent as Lucifer had covered his face with a hand, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
 He knew what he should say, that he should tell Lilith that it was none of her business because she had been the one to leave him eight years ago and disappear from Hell, even though she insisted she had been down in Gluttony the whole time, witch was one of the biggest lies Lucifer had ever heard and that was saying something. He should tell her that he had moved on, that he loved you and that what she was implying was so wrong it wasn’t in the same universe. Lucifer knew exactly what he should tell Lilith but just like every other time his words failed him and all he could get out was a meek pathetic sounding “she’s nice.” Even Charlie was looking at him like he had gone mad, probably not understanding why he wasn’t gushing about yours and his relationship like he tended to, and Lucifer did want to do that. Wanted to scream his devotion to you from the rooftops but Lilith’s knowing gaze over her teacup had him faltering, not wanting to share any more of his relationship with his ex-wife than already had been.
By the time Charlie was getting ready to leave it was late and Lucifer was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide under his duvet as he finally got the chance to talk to you. That was if you were still awake and if you accepted his call. His plans to grovel for forgiveness were quickly brought to an abrupt end though when Charlie had asked Lilith where she was planning on staying. When Lilith had said she would just go to a hotel Charlie had obviously offered her own, excited to show Lilith everything she had been working on. Lucifer though had panicked at the suggestion, frantically blurting out that she could stay “here! Lilith can uh stay here. In the house. With me. Here’s fine. Yes, it is. No need to go all the way to the hotel when there’s a perfectly fine bed upstairs. NOT my bed. A different one. At the other end of the house. But still here, and not the hotel.” He was rambling, he knew that, but he couldn’t have Lilith going to the hotel. Not when you were there.
Charlie had been reluctant about it all, but Lilith had agreed and soon enough it had just been Lucifer and Lilith stood in the hallway, Charlie having headed back to the hotel with a promise that they would come visit so she could give Lilith the grand tour. It had been awkward, Lucifer feeling like he was trapped in a cage with a wild animal that was sure to attack at just the slightest movement. Lilith had been the one to break the silence, asking about her room and reluctantly Lucifer had led her up the stairs, feeling very much like a man on the way to the gallows as he went straight to her old suites. She had thanked him for letting her stay, even going as far as to tell him that it had been “nice to see you again Luci.”  He had mumbled out some sort of reply along the same lines, bidding her good night before quickly heading to his own room.
It looked exactly the same as it had when he had left it that morning, except instead of you in his bed it was just the blanket he had conjured for you, haphazardly thrown across the wrinkled sheets. Lucifer didn’t even bother to get undressed, crawling onto his bed and cuddling the plush blanket to his chest. It still smelt of you, of the night before and the morning after, of all his hopes and dreams for the future he so desperately wanted with you.
He had tried to call you, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the phone ringing and ringing. It wasn’t until the third time he tried calling that you picked up except it hadn’t been you. Well, not just you. Angel Dusts voice had been the loudest, loudly proclaiming that “I don’t care if he’s the king of this shit hole, I’ll tell him exactly where he can shove his... HEY! Watch where your grabbing,” before the line went dead. Lucifer tries calling back, but it doesn’t connect, and he’s left feeling defeated, the phone falling from his grip as he rolls back over. He could go to the hotel, but he doubts that would end well. He doesn’t want to upset you any more than you clearly already are and there’s always the chance that Angel will try and shoot him on sight. Not that it would do anything more than tickle, but he highly doubted you or Charlie would appreciate him dropping Angel Dust through a portal to the other side of Pentagram City.
Sighing Lucifer curled tighter around the blanket, burying his face into the plush fabric and breathing in the slowly fading smell of you. He clings to it like somehow that will stop you from slipping through his fingers, like if he holds on tight enough you wouldn’t possibly be able to leave him. What if it’s not enough though? He’s hurt you, his failure to act causing you to flee like there was already nothing to keep you here. By giving you time to think is he just making it easier for you to walk away, thinking that he doesn’t care? But if he showed up at the hotel, desperate and close to breaking would you finally see that he just isn’t worth it? Feeling like nothing he could do would be right Lucifer pressed his face deep into the blanket and silently he cried out his frustration and pain, his whole body shaking with every sob and sharp breath.
The next day didn’t go any better, but it didn’t get any worse. He feels exhausted, not having been able to get any sleep the night before as his guilt and self-loathing had gotten the better of him. He truly hated himself for how he had delt with things the day before, feeling that he had not only let you down but himself as well. He needed to fix things, make sure you understood that his behaviour yesterday didn’t have anything to do with any feelings you thought he still might harbour for his ex-wife and everything to do with his delicate mental state and eons worth of feeling like he was incapable of doing anything right. Lilith’s unexpected arrival had taken him back to that and instead of standing his ground Lucifer had crumbled, taking you with him.
He does try and call you again, several times but just like the night before they don’t connect, and Lucifer begins to sink further into himself. He lets his wings drape across him, blocking off the world along with most of the light. He wallows in the darkness, self-pity getting the better of him as he lets every mistake he had ever made since the dawn of time replay in his mind like a greatest hits reel. He spends the day like that, still clinging to the blanket and making himself feel a thousand times worse. No one bothers him, not even Lilith and though he hopes that by some miracle you will come through the door he knows it won’t happen, halfway convinced that this is just another level to his punishment for defying Gods wishes. It seemed fitting that he would be sent someone so perfect he couldn’t help but falling madly in love with them only for them to be snatched from his grasp when he was at his happiness, and it be all his fault.
At some point Lucifer does manage to get some sleep, having cried himself to sleep, to exhausted to keep going. He’s woken up only a few hours later by someone knocking on his door, Lilith’s voice slightly muffled as she calls through the thick wood that she was “going out. Charlote wants to introduce me to her friends and show me this hotel of hers.” Lucifer is up and out of the bed in seconds, practically tripping over his feet and blankets in his desperation to get to the door. He yanks it open, frantically calling out that he’s “coming! To the hotel. I’m coming to the hotel as well.” Lilith’s only a couple of steps down the hall, her surprise quickly morphing into a wicked smile that has Lucifer thinking that he might have made a mistake by being so franticly insistent that he come with her. It’s just, you're at the hotel.
Lucifer missed you, probably an unhealthy amount considering it had only been two days since he had last seen you but that didn’t make it any less true. He wanted to see you and the easiest way to do that would be to go with Lilith to the hotel and if he could function as some sort of buffer between the two of you then that was even better. Lilith’s interest in you had worried him and Lucifer didn’t want her to start interrogating you like you had committed some sort of crime by being with him. More than anything though Lucifer doesn’t want you feeling uncomfortable in your own home, and Lilith being there was sure to leave you feeling uneasy.
It wasn’t just to act as your knight in a white suit though, Lucifer was hopeful that by going to the hotel he would be able to fix whatever damage his actions or lack there of had caused. He wanted to get you alone, preferably before tea and whilst Lilith was off with Charlie having her tour of the hotel. Lucifer would probably be able to bribe Nifty to chase off Angel Dust as well, insuring he would have the time to talk to you and hopefully be able to convince you to give him a second chance. He was terrified that he had already messed things up beyond repair though and that cornering you in the hotel would just get him a slap and a demand to leave you alone. If you did say it was over Lucifer would accept that. Sure, he would be heartbroken, but he didn’t want to cause any more problems for you. But if there was even a glimmer of hope that things weren’t over for the two of you than Lucifer would grasp it with both hands, determined to prove himself to you.
Lilith had made a comment about his dishevelled state, but Lucifer had been to focused on his plan to really register any ill intent behind her words, agreeing that he was “a bit of a mess.” All it took was a snap of his fingers and Lucifer was ready to go, not a single hair out of place and his suit and shirt wrinkle free. Lilith had been watching him, brows furrowed as Lucifer practically bounced down the stairs. He couldn’t help it; he was excited to see you and full of hope once more.
He had opened a portal to the hotel, trying to put as much distance between himself and Lilith as he possibly could just to emphasise that they weren’t actually together even if they arrived together. Lucifer had not been expecting to find the parlour already full, seemingly everyone currently staying at the hotel filling the space. Lucifer had frozen, eyes wide and unsure what to do with the sudden attention, his happy smile faltering. Lilith though had just breezed through the portal, all smiles and kind words as she greeted the sinners excited to see their Queen like she knew them all personally. Lucifer had shuffled in behind her, uncertain and awkward as the portal closed behind him and suddenly feeling out of his depth, having avoided any sort of large gatherings since before Lilith had left.
He had forgotten how much the residents of Hell had flocked to her, hypnotised by her voice and desire to raise Hell up from the cesspit of sin that it was. She truly was beautiful when in her element, glowing with a confidence that Lucifer had always been in awe of. She had always been a magnificent performer though, able to turn a crowd with just a smile and now was no different. Now that he wasn’t so blinded by his infatuation for her, Lucifer could see Lilith’s interactions with the sinners for what they were, a performance designed to draw people in and win them over. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t genuinely care or believe in what she was saying but she just kept a part of herself back, her true self hidden from the masses. No one else seemed to notice, not even Charlie as she excitedly introduced Lilith to Vaggie and the others, practically vibrating as she jumped from one introduction to another, pulling Lilith along behind her as she went.
As the crowd moved Lucifer finally got a glimpse of you, sat at the bar with Angel Dust and looking down at the drink in your hand like your whole world had fallen apart. You had dark circles under your red rimmed eyes, a clear sign that you had been crying. His heart tightened painfully at that, knowing he was the cause and wanting to punch himself for it. Angel leant in, whispering something that had your head snapping up and eyes going wide as you locked your gaze with him.
It was like everything else around him vanished, Lucifers entire world narrowing down to you. It had only been a couple of days, but Lucifer felt like he hadn’t seen you in forever, his heart swelling with longing whilst it cracked with regret and shame. You seemed just as trapped by his gaze as he was yours, his own feelings of longing reflected back at him but instead of regret he found only resignation and acceptance. You offered him a sad shaky smile before looking away and turning your back on him. It felt like an end, like everything Lucifer had wanted was slipping through his fingers like sand. No. That couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. You couldn’t just give up like that, like what you had shared hadn’t meant enough to you to even try and fight for it. Lucifer was halfway across the still crowded room before he even realised he was moving, trying not to be too aggressive as he pushed sinners out of his way in his haste to get to you.
Lucifer wasn’t quite quick enough though, Charlie making it to you before Lucifer could. She smiled brightly as she introduced you to Lilith, spinning you round and into her side so she could sling her arm over your shoulders in an awkward hug. Your initial shock didn’t last long and in the blink of an eye you were offering Lilith a bright smile, bowing your head slightly as you greeted her with surprisingly genuine politeness. Lucifer got there just in time for Lilith to answer your greeting, her violet eyes dragging over you in obvious appraisal as she told you that “Charlie has told me so much about you.” You and Lucifer both flinch slightly when Lilith says that, making it blindingly obvious that Lucifer hadn’t been the one to bring you up.
You recover from the metaphorical blow first, eyes dull and smile forced as you spoke about how happy you were to be helping Charlie with the hotel and all the hard work she had been putting in to making it work. It’s awkward, and uncomfortable for everyone involved apart from Lilith who doesn’t seem to notice you are looking at something over her shoulder instead of at her, nor that Charlie’s eyes are darting between the three of you or that Lucifer has tugged his hat down slightly, looking pained and embarrassed as he tried to catch your eye to no avail.
He can’t take it anymore, wanting to get you as far away from this train wreck of a situation before it gets any worse. His nervous laughter is loud and awkward when he cuts Lilith off before she has a chance to speak again, franticly trying to turn her in the opposite direction as he asks Charlie “how about that tour huh? Lots to see before Lilly’s got to head home.” He doesn’t realise the mistake he’s made until he sees the gleam in Lilith’s eyes and his stomach drops like the floor has just disappeared out from under him and he’s plummeting down into the unknown darkness below.
Lucifer hadn’t meant to use the old nickname; it just having slipped out in his desperation to get her away from you, but it was worse than just that. So much worse because Lilith had said “It’s lovely to be home again. I really had missed it up here in Pride and being back at the manor with Lucifer again, it’s just like old times.” With every word Lilith said Lucifer could see the light dimming in your eyes, your ears twitching downwards and smile clearly starting to strain. Lucifer tries to tell you that it’s not how it sounds but he can’t even get your name out before Lilith is looping her arm through his and pulling him along as she starts her tour of the hotel, Charlie quick to catch up with Vaggie not far behind. Craning his neck round Lucifer hoped to catch your attention but what he sees is you downing the drink you had been holding before practically slamming the glass down on the bar and quickly making your escape in the opposite direction they were going. Angel Dust is the one that catches Lucifer looking, shooting him a mean glare and using all four hands to flip him off before he goes after you.
Lucifer doesn’t pay attention on the tour, letting Charlie talk and Lilith lead him along by the arm. He’s too busy berating himself to listen to what’s going on let alone take part, mind firmly stuck on you and the dull emptiness you had looked at him with. How could he have been so stupid? He should have realised what him letting Lilith stay at the manor would look like to everyone else and especially you. He had been so desperate to keep her away from you that he hadn’t even stopped to think about the damage it would cause letting her stay with him for Heaven knows how long. Of course it would upset you. He would be angry too if you had an ex-partner move in next door to you at the hotel out of the blue. He really was an idiot. An idiot that was making everything worse just by existing. He really needed to talk to you, get all these mistakes and misunderstandings sorted out before they became too big to fix. He just needed to go find you, hopefully somewhere private where the two of you could be alone and just talk it out though if you wanted to scream, he didn’t think he would begrudge you that, not after how he had acted.
Lucifer had tried to slip away when Charlie had started talking about how she was planning on filling all the empty rooms. He had tried to be as discreet as possible, gently slipping his arm out from under Lilith’s and taking a small half step backwards. That was as far as he had gotten though before Lilith was grabbing hold of his hand and quite literally pulling him into the conversation, turning everyone’s attention on to him as she had asked about his role within the hotel. He had tried to laugh it off, insisting that he was just the financier but then Charlie had started insisting he was more than that, tugging him free of Lilith’s hold and having him lead the tour with her.
Any other time Lucifer would be ecstatic, proud of his little girl and everything she had achieved. Not that he wasn’t proud of her, but he couldn’t help but feel that with every step he took further into the hotel he was losing his chance to make things right with you. She looked so happy though, arm looped through his and smiling brightly as she told Lilith some of the tamer stories she had of the current guests. He couldn’t ruin that by running off, no matter how badly he wanted to. So, Lucifer had stayed, enjoying the time spent with his daughter and trying not to think how every second he spent casually touring the hotel was another second you had to convince yourself that Lucifer wasn’t worth the time you had given him.
It was late once the tour was over, it having taken a lot longer this time round compared to when Lucifer had been the one being shown around. He couldn’t blame Charlie for being excited and wanting to show the place of, but they hadn’t needed to look at every floor, over half of them just the same generic corridor with rows of identical empty rooms. Feeling frustrated and desperate Lucifer had been quick to usher Lilith through the portal, practically shoving her the last few steps before calling out that “I’m going out. Don’t wait up. Bye,” and letting the thing snap closed before she could say anything. Charlie and Vaggie had been shocked at his behaviour, but Lucifer had waved them off as he took off running towards your room. He was a man on a mission, and he wasn’t about to let anyone get in his way. He was going to your room, and he was going to explain everything to you, grovel on his knees for forgiveness if he had to and make it 1000% clear that he was not interested in starting anything with Lilith again. You were the one he wanted, not her.
The problem was you weren’t in your room, Lucifers insistent knocking either going unnoticed or ignored. He had panicked a little then, worry creeping up on him as he tried to think of where else you could be. He had seen you with the spider earlier so maybe you were still with him? It was a bit of a long shot considering how long ago he had seen the two of you together, but Lucifer didn’t really stop to think about that, spinning on his heals and heading down to the bar in search of Angel Dust and hopefully you.
That hope is short lived because when Lucifer skids round the corner he finds the bar practically empty, the only person inside being Husk who was slumped over the bar, halfway through a bottle of presumably cheap booze. Lucifer startled him when he slams down his cane on the bar top, demanding to know if he knew where you were. He wasn’t being very polite, but Lucifer was desperate, feeling like every second that went by was a second he was closer to loosing you entirely. Husk had given him a look that Lucifer could only describe as disappointed, sighing heavily as he told Lucifer that you were “out. Angel Dust and Cherrie decided she needed to let loose after that shit show this morning.” That hurts, Lucifer wincing at the reminder of how awkward things were when he and Lilith had arrived at the hotel that morning. He sinks down onto a barstool, arms wrapping around his head and crushing his hat as he let his head smack against the wooden bar top.
Out. You were out with Angel Dust and that cyclops women doing Heaven knows what and all because he was too much of a wreck to stand up for himself and deal with things the correct way. He could go after you, could demand that Husk tell him exactly what bar or club you had gone to but in the end what would that accomplish? He would make a scene, probably make a fool of himself for all of Hell to see and make things worse for you in the long run. But what other choice did he have? To just sit around at the bar and wallow in self-pity like the pathetic idiot he is, waiting for you to return to the hotel just so he could ambush you as soon as you came through the door? Angel Dust probably wouldn’t let him get within ten feet of you, uncaring that Lucifer was the king of Hell and knowing that he would never hurt the sinner because that would upset Charlie.
He could just leave. Go back home and wait till the morning before trying again. The thought of going back to the manor with Lilith made his stomach turn slightly, not wanting to be trapped in there with her and all the painful memories her presence pulled up from the dark recesses of his mind. It wasn’t just that though. Lucifer got the horrible feeling that if he left without doing anything at all that would be it. There would be no chance to talk and fix things in the morning. These last few months of happiness gone in a flash, leaving Lucifer all alone once more.
Husk doesn’t let him wallow for long, practically slamming a glass of some deep amber looking liquid down in front of him. He doesn’t look happy but that’s normal for him and Lucifer accepts the drink with a mumbled “thank you,” before taking a tentative sip of the smoky liquid. He promptly almost chokes on it when Husk speaks, eyes going wide as he tells Lucifer that he isn’t “one of those bar tenders that listens to your problems and dishes out advice. They're your hang ups and fuck ups not mine, deal with them yourself. That being said, that girl cares a lot about you, and she deserves a helluva lot better than being dumped like hot trash as soon as your ex come back around after up and leaving your sorry ass. So how about you ditch the pity party and actually fix your fuck up whilst you still can because, taking a girls virginity then moving your ex-wife back in the morning after? That’s fucked up even for the King of this shit hole.” Lucifer sits there, eyes wide and grip tight enough on his glass that it starts to crack. Little fractures that spread across the glass like spiderwebs.
Was that really what people thought? That he had been using you as a stand in and that as soon as Lilith had shown up again, he had just abandoned you for her? Was that what you thought? He sees you then, that resigned and accepting look in your eyes as you stare back at him. It’s like you had been expecting this to happen and had come to terms with it long before you had needed to. This whole time had you always been waiting for him to break your heart, expecting him to want nothing else from you other than to be a stand in for his estranged wife? His wedding ring glints in the light, a cruel reminder of his painful past and rapidly disappearing future. He suddenly understands why you had never brought it up, had never asked him to take it off. You had never been expecting him to, accepting that when it came to Lilith she would always be his greatest love and that you would never come close to holding a place like that in his heart.
The glass shatters in Lucifers hand, liquid spilling across the bar top as shards dig painfully into his palm. Vaguely he hears Husk cursing but Lucifers to preoccupied to really hear it. You had it all wrong. Yes, Lucifer had loved Lilith and despite everything they had been through and how her very presence reminded Lucifer of all his short comings a part of him would always care for her. She was the mother of his child, his first love, his first everything and they had eons of happiness together, but it hadn’t been enough to survive the worst of times. Lucifer had moved on, his feelings for Lilith now more like that of a dear old friend then a lover.
Lucifer loved you. Was madly, deeply and irrevocably in love with you. He would bring paradise to Hell just to see you smile. He would pull the very stars from the sky to show you that they paled in comparison to your eyes. He would build you a grand palace if you asked, would fill every room with rare jewels and riches. He would have the very streets of Hell scrubbed and cleaned so you didn’t have to walk amongst the filth and bloodshed. Lucifer would grant your every wish and desire. He would let you sit upon his throne whilst he curled at your feet, head in your lap and content to have your fingers in his hair. He would give you anything including himself, would even cut out his heart and offer it to you on a silver platter if that was what you need from him to truly even begin to understand what you meant to him.
He’s actions had been rash and desperate, clouded over by the past and his own failings. He would make it right though, would fix his fuck up as Husk had so eloquently put it. He was right after all, you deserved better than thinking you were anything less than everything to him. Shaking the glass from his hand Lucifer had stood, nodding his head and thanking him for “the advice,” before turning and heading towards the hotel doors. He ignored the other mans shout from behind him, his mind preoccupied with his forming plan as he started on his walk back to the manor.
That night Lucifer moved out of the manor and into his rooms at the hotel.
Lilith had been waiting for him when he returned to the manor. Though she made it look like she had just been enjoying a glass of wine and a book in the parlour, Lucifer knew she had been just passing time till he came back, probably expecting him to be heartbroken and so in need of comfort that he would just walk back into her arms. Well, she was wrong. Lucifer wasn’t heartbroken, not yet anyway. Clearing his throat Lucifer had stood in the hallway with his head held high and determined gaze fixed on Lilith who had turned slightly to look at him over the back of the sofa. His voice had been clear and steady as he told her that he was “moving out, tonight. I’m going to stay at the hotel for now until another permanent living arrangement can be made. The manor is yours, do with it what you will.”
Lilith had looked a little taken-a-back at his statement, gracefully rising to her feet and trying to dissuade him from his decision as she came round the back of the sofa. Lucifer had stayed firm though, holding a hand up and cutting her off before she could even get close to convincing him to stay. Instead, he was honest with her, his stern determination softening slightly as he explained that he “should have moved out years ago. This place holds to many memories, not all of them good and I have been keeping myself locked away in her for too long. It’s time I let go of the past and moved on with my life and I can’t do that here.” The with you goes unspoken but Lucifer can see the flash of understanding that lights up Lilith’s eyes. She leans back against the sofa, her hands curling around the edge and nails digging in slightly. Neither of them says anything, don’t really even look at each other as they both process what Lucifer had just said.
He hadn’t been planning on saying it but that didn’t make it any less true. Lucifer had been holding onto the past in many ways he hadn’t even realised, not just the ring but the house as well, it still being the exact same as it had been when Lilith had left. Nothing had changed for so long, Lucifers life stagnant even as he clung onto a time long since passed. But things were changing now and for the better. His relationship with Charlie was getting better every day and he was finally starting to take more of an active role as King of Hell, and then there was you. His sweet little lamb who had been the first person in a long time to make him feel like he was enough just as he was. Lucifers life had been good, or at least it had been right up until a couple of days ago, but Lucifer was going to fix it, and this was the first step to doing so.
Lilith was the one to break the silence, finally looking at Lucifer as she asks, “she isn’t just a fling, is she?” He’s not expecting that, eyes wide in his surprise but it fades quickly, Lucifer smiling his first genuine smile in two days. He doesn’t hesitate this time, his voice found as he admits that “no, she isn’t.” Lilith takes it all surprising well, telling him that she’s glad he had found someone who makes him happy and admitting that she had been “rather jealous when I first saw her. You will apologise to her for me won’t you Luci? I wasn’t particularly welcoming, and I would hate for my behaviour to come between the two of you.” Of course, Lucifer assures her that he will, smiling brightly and trying to hide the small thrill he gets at knowing that how happy and in love he had been had made Lilith jealous. Lucifer does laugh though when Lilith asks him if you realise how lucky you are to have Lucifers love and devotion, insisting that he was the lucky one. You could have anyone you wanted but you had chosen Lucifer and that made him the luckiest person in all of Hell.
He and Lilith spend almost an hour talking after that, Lucifer telling her how you two had met and how he had gone about courting you. Lilith seems genuinely interested, laughing at his failed attempts at flirting and even teasing him about his incapability to realise when someone what flirting with him. It’s nice, reminiscent of eons ago when they had still told each other everything, open and honest in a way that they hadn’t been towards the end.  It changes nothing about his decision though and before the hour can pass fully Lucifer is excusing himself to go pack, politely declining Lilith’s offer to help. They don’t say goodbye, Lilith offering him a hopeful “see you soon?” that he finds himself repeating back to her. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after but at some point? That would be nice. Maybe even a family dinner, especially considering it would now involve you and Vaggie. He didn’t doubt that it would be awkward to start with, but he had his own hopes that somehow it would all work out in the end.
It doesn’t take him all that long to pack, everything important boxed up and moved to the hotel with a snap of his fingers. It’s not like he had much of importance to take with him anyway. A few trinkets he had picked up over the centuries and things from Charlie’s childhood that had sentimental value. There were photos and paintings that he wanted to keep, like the one of Charlie in her strange gothic phase or the one of her as a baby sat on top of a large rubber duck and smiling brightly as she laughed. There were so many of her at different stages in her life, ones of him and the other sins as well as the few friends he had made down here but there were also ones of him, Lilith and Charlie that he couldn’t bear to part with, the three of them smiling and laughing together that were important and precious memories from his past. He didn’t think you would begrudge him those, but he didn’t want you to think his memories with you were any less important to him. He hoped that one day soon he would be able to place photos of you amongst them, your bright smile and infectious laughter lighting up his walls just like they did to his life.
Eventually all that’s left for him to take are the pyjamas you had gifted him along with his duck slippers and the blanket he had conjured for you. They’re all folded neatly, stacked in a little pile on his bed that he scooped up into his arms and holds close to his chest. He gives the room a once over, eyes lingering on the bed as he recalls how peaceful and content you had looked curled up on the sheets. He’s half tempted to take it with him, the memory of your first time together such a bright spot in his life that he doesn’t want to leave a single piece of it behind. It wasn’t the bed that had made your night together so perfect though and taking it with him would just be impractical. With his mind still full of you he had opened a portal and stepped through into his rooms at the hotel, not feeling even a speck of regret at his decision.
Once the portal is closed Lucifer places the pyjamas and slippers on his bed, fully intending to wear them when he got into it later. For now, he keeps hold of the blanket and makes his way out into the halls, heading towards your room once more. His nock is gentle and steady this time, but his heart is beating just as rapidly as he waits for you to answer. You don’t, clearly not yet back from wherever Angel Dust and Cherrie had taken you. That should worry him slightly, but he trusts you, knows that even angry and hurt the most you will do is have one to many drinks and he trusts Angel to look after you, his own reforming conscience preventing him from letting anything bad happen to you.
He should go but he had come here for a reason, and he didn’t see the harm in leaving the blanket in your room to find when you got back. Maybe you would even find comfort in it, curling up in the plush fabric like he had the night before. Lucifer tried the handle on a whim, not expecting the door to actually open and yet it does, the soft click sounding far too loud in the otherwise quiet corridor. He steps inside quickly, shutting the door behind him and grumbling about you being far too trusting for living in Hell. Lucifer fumbles for the light switch, eventually just giving up when all his fingers find are wall and door frame. Instead, he clicks his fingers, the lights coming on instantly and filling the space in a warm glow.
Lucifer has been in your room before but never alone and never without your permission to be there. He feels like he’s trespassing. Like at any second alarm bells are going to start going off and metal bars will spring up to cover the windows and door, trapping him inside until you finally come back and find him huddled in a corner. He knows that’s not going to happen but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he’s doing something wrong by being here without you or your permission. Deciding that he had already messed up by coming in here Lucifer quickly marches across the room and places the blanket down on the end of your bed, a quick wave of his hand summoning a white and red rose that smells like candy apples that he gently placed on top of the folded fabric.
He's back out the door within minutes, lights off once more and hiding what he had done. He feel’s giddy and nervous as he makes his way back to his rooms, like a teenager leaving a love note in a crush’s locker. Lucifer is hopeful though, that somehow his offering will have you at his door before the night is over. Either to talk or to throw the blanket in his face, but still at his door none the less. All he needed was that chance. The chance to reach out and hold your hand and tell you he was sorry for the hurt he had caused. The chance to promise you that his heart was yours and offering to give it to you on a silver platter if that was what you needed to know his feelings were true. Whatever you needed from him Lucifer would give it to you willingly, would offer you the universe if it would offer him just a glimpse of your smile once more. Whatever it takes, Lucifer would show you where his love resided and hopefully start to build a future with you at his side. Together again and stronger for it.
So lost in his thoughts Lucifer did not see the violet eyes that watched him from withing the darkest shadows. As he disappeared around the corner the shadows shifted, taking form as they moved closer to the door he had come from. Pail lilac fingers curled around the handle, the door opening just enough for the shadow cloaked figure to slip through into the darkened room, the door closing silently behind it.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 2 days
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How to remember? - Simon Riley + John Price*F!Reader
“If we meet in next life, how can I recognize you?” “We won’t remember each other, honey.” “Just tell me.” “Then just know, I love white flowers, okay?”
(The men still remain the memories from their past life, but you don’t.)
Price:
He hates white.
It just reminds him of his past life, your ward painted in flawless white, and you left him too early, in that room surrounded with lackluster white and the solitude ghosted him till the end of his life.
He wonders when will he encounter you in this life, a part of him is afraid, that he never see you again.
The thought clouded his mind as he steps into a flower shop, he comes here to pick up the bouquet he ordered. He gain the habit of decorating his flat with white flowers in his room for you, even though it sometimes brings him sorrow.
but his turmoiling mind drops to silence when he spots you.
You look bothered, there’s a man who keeps shoving different colors of flowers at you, but just no white among them.
“She loves white flowers.” Price strolls to your side, picks up a white rose, and he sees your face beams up when he gently shows you the flower.
“better understand the girl more before trying to flirt with her.
After the man rushes out of the shop with embarrassment, Price turns to face you, only to see you looking at him with gratitude.
He wants to cry, actually, he wants to take you into his arms, nuzzle his nose against your neck, tell you how much he misses you, how long he’s been searching for you.
But he knows too clearly, that you don’t remember him.
“Thank you, Mister...?” You ask with softness.
“Call me John.”
“Thank you, John.” You grin delightfully “The guy’s been keep talking to me since he come in.”
“I think he comes in for you, not for the flowers, love.” Chuckling, he picks up some Lily of the Valley and hands it to you.
“You have good taste in flowers, John.” you laugh along with him “But why do you know I love white flowers?”
“...” Price stares at your diamond-like eyes, confusion is obvious inside.
“Maybe we had met in our last life?” He swallows the bitterness back.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person.”
“Well, I’m here to get my bouquet. but...” you wait at the same spot as John walks to the counter, minutes later, he comes back with two bouquets in his hands.
and he gives you the one with white roses and Lily of the Valley, decorated with a sky-blue ribbon.
“Oh John, I can’t take this!”
“Consider it as a gift for our first meeting, eh?”
“Well...” He watched you take over the bouquet carefully and suddenly raised your head in excitement. “I know a tea shop nearby, they got some really nice Earl Grey, if you have time, how about we go there and learn about each other more?”
The white flowers shuffle slightly as you shift in happiness. John takes in your feature, finally, this time he can do this in reality, rather than tracing your figure in his mind every night.
and he smiles, hands resting your lower back to lead you out of the flower shop.
“Of course, my pleasure, love”
(white rose: love, loyalty/ lily of the valley: a return of happiness)
Ghost:
White in his memories always accompanied by red after the crimson stained on the flower necklace you always wore.
The painful color engraved in his mind when he took off your necklace from you, before you got put into the bodybag after the mission.
He brought the necklace you left everywhere, caressing it when he almost lost the courage to keep going, holding it against his chest without a gap in those sleepless and weeping nights when you visited his mind again and again.
Even until his next life, he still can’t see white without the hideous incarnadine.
It brings back the memories, the days he still basked in your warmth, instead of bringing you the white flowers and talking to your gravestone.
He doesn’t have a specific interest in flowers, but he knows you have, so he’s willing to go to every flower show, in the hope of seeing you in the crowds.
Today’s another day for seeking you among the countless people. It’s the opening day for the show, and they organize the areas with colors, so once he steps into the park, he heads straight towards the area for white flowers.
He sits on the bench for hours, eyes searching every corner, scanning every person, but there’s no you inside them.
Simon takes a glimpse at the sun, it’s about to set, and the soothing orange of the dusk covers the red inside his mind a bit.
maybe you’ll be here tomorrow, he stands up and starts pacing back to the entrance.
Just as he’s about to leave, he hears a familiar grumble nearby, and he instantly snaps his head in the direction.
There’s you, dressing in an ivory-yellow sundress, looking at the map, and trying to figure out the path to the white flower area.
Simon doesn’t hesitate before he strides to your side.
“The white flower area is on the right side.”
You jump when you hear someone suddenly talk to you, yet your voice is still full of appreciation when you speak.
“Oh! Thank you! I’m trying to figure out how to go there!” You laugh sheepishly “Are you planning to go there too?”
“Yeah, I can lead you there” He nods “If you want to”
“Great! I’m more than happy if you can bring me there.”
Simon walks slightly in front of you on your way to the area, he assumes standing beside you may pressure you too much, but he can’t help but keep looking back at you.
You look as stunning as the memories he recalls when he was alone, but now you are beside him again, and all he can do is stay silent, so those affection and love managing to slip out of his lips won’t succeed.
“Looks like we arrive!” You fish out your phone immediately and start taking a bunch of photos, he moves til he’s inches behind you, watching you infatuated with the snow-white flowers waving in the breeze.
It sure is beautiful, Simon thinks when he immerses in the scene in front of him— Your flowing yellow dress brings out the beauty of the flowers, but nothing’s more fascinating than the elegant grin spreading along your lips.
“Sorry, I just immediately started shooting the flowers. I just can’t resist the pretty of white flowers” You apologize when you turn around and still find the man leading you here still at the same spot, yet a question comes into your mind at the same time. “but why do you know I was looking for white flowers?”
“I guess...” He looks into your eyes, contemplating if he should say this “I guess we met before, in the past life.”
“Hey, surprising that you’re the kind of person who believes in past life!” You raise your eyebrows “But yeah...”
“I have no idea where the idea comes from, but I feel like I have met you before.”
Simon holds his breath when the words flow into his ears. There’s no doubt that you don’t remember him, but he can feel the soreness forming around his eyes.
“Well, I need to go” Checking the time on your phone, you continue “I haven’t asked your name yet, Sir.”
“Simon.” He mumbles under his breath.
“Simon, it’s really nice to meet you.” Your smiles widen.
“I’ll be here tomorrow at 4 pm., I look forward to seeing you here, and we can go have dinner together too.”
Waving goodbye, Simon doesn’t move his eyes from your rear until you disappear in the distance.
and he looks at the white flowers again, but he blinks twice when his eyes land on the flowers.
There’s no dark red in them anymore, but a hint of comforting yellow is surely spreading across the white.
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opbackgrounds · 1 day
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It is incredible how well Kuma is able to play Moriah by preying on what he has to know is his greatest insecurity. The real coup de grace is that little inconspicuous offer to help at the end, added almost as an afterthought. If Moriah agrees, then Kuma can poof the Straw Hats wherever he wants to like he did on Sabaody. And if he refuses, well, we see how angry it makes him, and how his injured pride causes him to make stupid mistakes. Hell, Kuma has seen how badly the Straw Hats have wrecked Thriller Bark already. It could be that he genuinely believes Luffy could defeat Moriah unaided. The little push just helped get things started in the right direction.
The whole conversation is another one of those moments that takes on so much more meaning in retrospect, but even without that retrospect it's still impactful. I don't have to know Moriah's entire backstory to understand exactly why he's reacting the way he is, and that alone makes it one of my favorite bits of writing in the entire arc. So often the big personalities of One Piece can cause characters to feel more like caricatures, but this moment feels very human.
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1d1195 · 1 day
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Dolcezza Extra I
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Read Dolcezza here | ~4.7k words
From me: this is something I’ve never done before: an alternate idea to something I've already written. I will be copying and pasting parts to keep the continuity but I hope you like it. It was pretty fun. The first couple paragraphs are from the original part. I’m sure you can all follow without me telling you all this. Have fun!
Warnings: stalking, scary (?) Also, no clue what kinds of protocols are supposed to be in place for this sort of thing. I don't think it makes a lot of sense logistically or law-wise. But that's not what we're here for, right?! I wanted it to kind of go right in the middle of Part 8, like starts in the beginning-ish part of it and end essentially in the same way.
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It was one of those nights where everything was going wrong, and everything was too busy. Antonio was caring for Leo, the baby, and the missus—all sick with something Leo brought home from preschool, so Harry and Niall were left in charge. Normally, the sweet girl found her way down and situate herself at a station doing the takeout orders but given the little... spat (what else could he call it?) she seemed to be avoiding him.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket without pause for three full minutes, but he literally hadn’t a second to look at it. All he wanted was for the pretty girl to appear. He wanted to apologize profusely for overstepping. He just cared for her so much. Even if she wasn’t comfortable with how he handled things, he wanted to make it better. He cared so deeply for her it hurt to be apart from her without so much as a text message between them over the last two days. He managed to see her exit a car that wasn’t hers parked in her spot. At least her car was getting fixed. But he imagined she had another busy Friday and Saturday. He wished he could have helped more. Wished he didn’t mess up and revealed that he messed it up in a way he couldn’t fix it.
The moment the orders slowed, Harry was planning to race up her steps and beg for forgiveness.
Harry dropped a knife for the third time on the same onion he had been trying to dice for the last five minutes. He growled to himself, snagged it off the floor (nearly slicing his hand from his anger overtaking rational thought to pick it up by the handle), and all but tossed it in the sink.
“Why not just talk to her?” Niall muttered across the way.
“Shut up,” he snapped, bitterness coating his voice. Niall raised his eyebrows at him and shook his head. He turned the other way, turned his attention to the soup he was pouring into bowls. “M’going to,” he mumbled grabbing a clean knife as he started chopping again. “Sorry.”
He nodded. “It’s alright. Just thinking we could really use her help,” Niall smirked.
Harry snorted. “Y’could probably ask her,” he mumbled. “She’d come running t’help m’sure.”
“Yeah, but it defeats your whole she’s spreading herself too thin. And then I’m no different than rest, huh?”
Harry sighed, grateful for his understanding. “You’re a really good friend, Niall.”
“Don’t I know it,” he laughed. It was infectious. Hard to keep Harry in a bad mood and he prayed to God the orders slowed soon so he could run up and beg her to come help Niall and him because as much as he didn’t want to ask her for another thing, working with her on busy nights were some of his favorite moments.
Harry’s phone was still vibrating. He wondered if he set a timer for something and it was just going off continuously. “M’phone’s been ringing nonstop.”
“Mum?” Niall asked.
“No... she knows m’at work. Plus, she’d call the restaurant if it was an emergency. I gave her the number.”
“S’probably an alarm, yeah?”
“Yeah... probably.”
“Oh, she’s here,” Niall mumbled his gaze narrowing at the slip of paper in his hand. “Eggplant and two times the extra garlic bread…” Niall waved the ticket out like he always did when they realized the arrival of Harry’s Principessa.
Well, at least Harry wouldn’t have to sprint upstairs to apologize. Still, it was odd she didn’t make herself known when she got there even if they weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Harry glanced toward the window for a peek to see if she was there, but he was too far away. “Niall did you see her?” He asked.
“No…” his voice was low, over the bustle of the few staff that were in the kitchen, Harry hardly heard him. Like he was piecing a puzzle together. He was studying the slip. Like it would give him the hint.
“See who?” The hostess asked. She was grabbing a take-out order off the counter that Niall had just finished packaging. Niall slid the ticket into the holder still examining it.
“Principessa,” Niall mumbled. “She always orders extra garlic bread with her eggplant.”
“Oh yeah she’s here with her brother or something,” Antonio’s nephew, Matteo, jumped right into the conversation as he brought back empty plates from the dining room.
Harry’s head snapped up from the veggies he was cutting and tossing into a pot to make a sauce. “Brother...?” Harry didn’t think that made sense at all. He remembered seeing “James groceries” on her calendar while he cleaned earlier in the week. It was always done on a day when James had to work in the evening so there was no way he would have come all the way out here for dinner. Still, he thought Harry would have known if James was here—between his protective brother streak or even just saying hello and thank you for the food. Harry thought she would bring him right back here to the kitchen and make herself at home.
But maybe Harry misread it. Or maybe James finally suspected she was tired and strung out and was taking a step to help with his kind older sister.
“Well, it’s not dinner with you; so, who else would it be?” Matteo reminded them with a shrug.
Niall gasped dropping the plate he was holding, and it shattered to the ground. Everyone stopped to look at him and he grabbed the ticket once more. Like it finally revealed the missing clue. At the same time Harry dropped the fourth knife he was using because if Matteo hadn’t said “who else would it be” they might not have put it together right then.
Harry hurried to the window and searched. “Where’s she sitting?” His voice was hurried. There was a one second pause. “Matteo, now!”
“Corner, near the door. What’s—”
“Niall...” Harry’s body felt weak and shaky. His blood was hot and boiling immediately. His vision was getting blurry at the edges, and he had never felt so close to throwing up in his whole life. Not even when he had the flu in university.
Why was his phone vibrating still?
“Oh no,” he murmured reaching for the phone in his pocket.
“Shit!” Niall hissed looking at the direction of the man sitting across from the pretty girl all the way across the restaurant.
Harry slid his thumb across his phone without taking his eyes off the table across the main room. The weakness he felt ached through every inch in his body. “Eleanor, I—”
He yanked the phone away from his ear as she responded, loudly, shouting. “Harry! For the love of GOD! Do you never look at your phone!? Why do you even have one!?”
Harry felt sicker at the accusation. How could he not look at his phone? “El—”
“Harry it’s bad,” Eleanor sobbed, barely getting the words out. Harry could hear Louis shushing her as best he could. “It’s really bad.”
It was every one of Harry’s worst nightmares.
*
She was trying to process why the door was open. She quietly stepped back from her own door, but she wasn’t in control of her own body. Her heart was beating a little faster than normal. Her brain tried to reason with her muscles that there had to be a reasonable explanation. Instead, her muscles continued moving; she pressed the volume button on her phone to turn Eleanor’s voice down even though she continued rambling about how Harry adored her, and she was pretty sure he was in love with her too.
Not even the idea of Harry loving her could shake the nerves away.
“El... Eleanor,” she whispered listening intently to Antonio’s office door distinctly closing and three foreboding footsteps reaching her door. The clinking metallic sound of someone fiddling with the lock on her door came next. She had the phone pressed to her lips trying to soundlessly alert Eleanor as best she could as she scurried backwards as if the door was on fire. “El! STOP!” She hissed listening for more sound.
“What?” She could hear the eye roll in her friend’s voice. “You have to confront these emotions Harry is—” There was a low voice cursing outside her door as the lock was fiddled with more and she stepped back as the door opened. Her jaw dropped along with her phone smacking to the ground. She could faintly hear Eleanor calling at the sound of the noise.
The man before her smiled excitedly, relieved. “You’re home. I knew I’d find you,” he sighed with relief reaching for her. Instinctively she took a step back, it took every ounce of her self-control to keep from throwing up all over herself or the not-so-stranger. “I’m so glad I’ve found you; I missed you so much.”
Her heart was pounding erratically. Her only saving grace was knowing Eleanor heard. She reached for her phone. Autopilot. Grab the phone that clattered to the floor.
He kicked it out of the way. “You don’t need that,” he assured her with an easy smile. She straightened; cleared her throat.
“I…don’t?” She whispered. She should have spoken louder so Eleanor could hear. Of course, she loved her apartment, and she loved Antonio and the little family he invited her to be part of that was Dolcezza. Right then, however, she wanted to cry that her apartment was soundproofed beyond auditorial recognition. Her eyes dropped to the fabric in his hand. She swallowed the bile that continued rising in her throat while he looked at her as if he had known her his whole life.
“No,” he shook his head.
Her mind wasn’t working. She was exhausted and terrified and poor Eleanor was screaming from the other end of the line. He grabbed the phone. “Hi Eleanor,” he said simply. “She’s okay. We’re going on a trip, she’ll be safe with me,” he assured her.
Then he left her phone on the side table. Hanging up and leaving it there. It started to vibrate immediately; Eleanor desperate to hear her answer again. Instead, he ignored it, held his hand out for her to take. “I need my stuff—” she stepped toward her bedroom, but he grabbed her arm. She yanked it away, like he burned her. She gasped at the touch, and he frowned.
“Sorry—”
Her fight or flight kicked in and she bolted for the bathroom. It would lock and she would drop from the second story if necessary or scream until Harry heard her.
Oh. Harry.
Right as she tried to slam the door shut behind her his foot got in the way. She yelped as he grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the room. “Honey, stop fighting me,” he grumbled bitterly. She felt so sick. So scared. She wanted to scream and cry but it would be useless. No one would hear her. She needed to make someone hear her.
Slowly, painfully slowly, her brain started to work. It wasn’t much. But she prayed silently to herself that it would be. She took a shaky inhaled breath. “I’m…sorry,” her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t look at him. She was too scared. It was a nightmare, but she could feel the way her teeth bit into her cheek. It wasn’t something she would be waking up from. “I’ve had a really long week and a really long day. I haven’t eaten yet,” she whispered. “I was going to go downstairs and eat at the restaurant,” she sniffled. “Can we do that? A date?” It tasted sour in her mouth to say it. Her fingernails dug into her palms reminding her further it was a nightmare. It had to work. Please let it work.
“A date?” He mused. He stuffed the fabric in his hands into the pocket of his pants.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’m starving.”
“And then we can go to my place?”
The idea was so nauseating, so terrifying, she worried that it wouldn’t work. If the food got to her table, she was so incredibly scared she wouldn’t be able to eat it. Her whole body felt shaky and clammy. Like when she had the flu. One bite and she would be puking all over her table.
But hopefully that would get Harry’s attention.
“Okay,” he agreed and held his hand out for her to take. It felt like cheating on Harry to hold someone else’s hand. She forced the tears behind her eyes and willed the nausea to stay in the pit of her stomach.
She placed her hand in his.
*
Harry was pacing trying to figure out how to tell her he knew. Niall was on the phone with the police begging for no sirens and no lights. Eleanor was, in the smallest of possible ways, relieved to hear she was in the restaurant and not halfway to somewhere they didn’t know.
Harry couldn’t see her face. It killed him. Why didn’t he go up sooner? Why didn’t he beg for her to come down and help so they could make up? Why didn’t he insist and help her stubborn self the way he wanted to?!
“Goddamnit!” He shouted and shoved a bin of clean cutlery on the floor. It was so loud the restaurant ceased to make noise for a prolonged moment.
“Harry,” Niall was off the phone with the police Eleanor sobbing in his other ear no doubt. “You need to be smart. They cannot leave before the police get here or we’re fucked. Eleanor already sent the detective on her case to his old place of residence and there is no sign of him there. So, if they leave…” he trailed off and Harry released a strangled noise from his throat. Not quite a cry, not quite a yell. The pain was so intense from the thought he thought he could feel it in the atoms of his body. “If you cannot have a controlled response...,” Niall warned without finishing the sentence.
Harry swallowed the feeling of being sick down. He knew what Niall meant. “Okay,” he croaked.
Everyone was still trying to work. But the whispers ensued. Within moments, everyone knew. Everyone was trying to piece together a plan and Harry felt so confused, so lost, so scared because the only one he could ever imagine getting out of this situation was his sweet Principessa herself.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat. He needed to be brave. She needed him. She never needed anyone. The weight of that made him terrified. Shaking his head he pressed the heels of his palms in his eyes to stop the stressed tears from escaping. He swallowed and shook his head again. She did the hard part. She got herself in the restaurant and Harry’s attention without even talking to him. “Niall, bring out the garlic bread in three minutes,” he ordered while untying his apron and heading for the door to the alleyway. “Tell Eleanor to tell the detective to hurry.”
*
The restaurant was easily one of her top five favorite places in the world. But right now, she wanted to scream and run from it. Where was Harry or Niall?! God, she wanted to kill Matteo. How did he not know? Wasn’t everyone under a silent direction to tell Harry when she arrived?
The worry began to take over. Harry wasn’t coming to her rescue because he didn’t want to. She pushed him away and he was going to let—
No.
Harry, despite how mad he might have been, would never let anything happen to her. She was certain.
Wasn’t she?
Perhaps Harry really just didn’t know. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Especially without any indication that anyone knew she was there. Her back was to the restaurant, and she was still in her gym clothes. With her back turned, hair in a ponytail, she was probably less recognizable than normal. That had to be it. He had no idea she was there.
It was a miracle she could keep her breathing as even as she did. The thoughts started to spiral further. Maybe he wouldn’t know. It was really busy in the restaurant—Matteo might not have noticed she was there with a stranger when he seated them since the hostess wasn’t there. Maybe he didn’t tell Harry yet.
Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears it was hard to hold a conversation with him almost because she couldn’t hear him; more so than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. But she didn’t have a choice. He asked her about work, her family, and if she had been reading anything good. She wasn’t into it—it was obvious and she wished she was because the only thing that was going to save her was being able to play it off that she didn’t want to crawl out of her skin at the sight or sound of him. Her stomach was churning, and her voice was so quiet she wished she could do a better job acting but she was terrified. Pain started behind her eyes, and she wanted to scream.
“Good evening.”
Her head snapped up to Harry briefly, who seemingly appeared out of thin air. Her jaw dropped silently. She was really beginning to believe that he wasn’t coming to her rescue. But now he was there. He knew she was there. He was going to help. She was sure of it.
He knew she was there.
Her heart started to pound in a new way, still scared but for the first time in twenty minutes she took a deep cleansing breath; relieved. She looked at her lap afraid to give it away that she knew him.  “We are very short staffed this evening. We’re extremely sorry for the delay,” Harry sounded so formal, and she couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would cry. “Your food will be out as soon as we can. Please be patient with us. We’re very sorry.”
If she looked up, she knew his eyes would be looking at her. She knew his apologies weren’t about the food. The gravity in his voice said he was sorry because he didn’t know she was there sooner. He was sorry he didn’t come upstairs or to her rescue faster. A tear slipped across her cheek. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Do you have a bathroom?” She asked.
“I don’t think—”
“Of course,” Harry interrupted hurriedly; she could practically hear the excitement in his voice. Like he was grateful she had a plan because he was a little stuck, a little lost. It made her feel weak immediately. The worry Harry must have felt because of her made her feel guilty and sad. She wanted to fix it and it was hard she felt like she was balancing on a tightrope. She hoped Harry wouldn’t hate her for running the second she had the opportunity. “I’ll lead you,” he offered.
“You just used the bathroom upstairs, honey,” the man reminded her. His voice was tight.
He was going to be mad if she left; that much was evident. “Well, I just—” She started.
“She’s all set, actually. Thank you.”
Harry stared at him. Weighing his options. She could see it. She cleared her throat. “Um...it’s okay,” she whispered quietly. Refusing to look at Harry again. If she did, she was going to blow what little cover she had. Poor Harry. “M’just a little tired,” she assured him, trying to sound braver than she felt.
“S’back and to the left,” Harry murmured and then headed to the next table and explained the short-staffed shift again. She wondered what he was thinking and what he was saying to the table. They looked like regulars, but she wasn’t completely sure because her mind was frazzled. Harry leaving her to fend for herself, even though he was only four feet away at most had her aching for him more than she ever wanted to hold his hand in her whole life.
Harry was losing his mind. He knew she understood his apology for taking so long. He knew that she understood between the lines that he was apologizing for Matteo’s mistake in not telling him sooner. Harry would have been out in the dining room so much faster. As much as it pained him to see her seated across from another man, regardless of the circumstances. It would have been better if she was with another guy in general. At least he wouldn’t be worried sick about her safety.
It took every bit of his strength to keep blowing their cover. To keep from shaking while he told the next table that they were short-staffed. They quietly inquired about the strange man sitting with the sweet girl they all had grown to know as their sometimes-waitress and Harry’s lovely Principessa. He quietly murmured something and then casually bumped into the table dropping the knife near the edge to the floor. As he bent to grab it, he murmured to the guy, pleaded with his eyes as he tried to whisper devoid of emotion. “Do not let her leave with him.”
Harry moved to the next table—strategically he chose the tables that allowed him to keep her in his peripheral. It was killing him. The shaking was becoming uncontrollable, and the whisper beg to the couples, imploring for help from the people he had gotten to know over the years, was getting strangled in his throat as he moved to the third and fourth table.
He was at a loss. The bathroom was a great idea, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to get her from point A to point B. Maybe he could pour hot soup on her, insist she come to the kitchen for help. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to spill their hot soup in her lap either. He supposed he could throw ice cubes in it and make it less horrible on her delicate skin, but he had to do something! His mind was spiraling. He wouldn’t see her in his peripheral in just two more tables and he was already about triple the distance of what he wanted to be from her—granted even an inch of space given the scenario seemed more horrific than he could bear.
He was feeling nauseous. Maybe he should just grab her by the hand and pull her away. But they had a chance to get rid of him. To keep him away from her once and for all. He violated the restraining order. That had to be something. He would have to go away.
Despite the fact she was so close but felt like an entire galaxy away. Harry was crumbling internally. This poor older woman who had been coming in every Saturday for years looked at him with pity in his eyes as he repeated his spiel once more. The agony he felt was in every inch of his bones, every pore of his skin. His eye was twitching.
When he got her safe and out of harm’s way, he planned on never letting go of her. At least not for a few days. He was going to kiss her and hold her. Apologize to her and cook for her. He wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Harry was going to tell her he loved her and didn’t care if she was stubborn or felt like she was hard to care for because she didn’t like to be needy. He was needy. He needed her. It was killing him to be so close and so far away. So helpless and terrified that he couldn’t help her the way he wanted to right then. Even scared shitless, he thought she was beautiful and brave. So brave. She got here. She got his attention. That had to mean something. She believed in Harry and that he would find her or know she was there despite the frustration and anxiety she felt.
It was hard to believe it was only three minutes since he actually talked to her and apologized for taking so long. Niall came from the back with a plate of garlic bread as promised. Niall was going to come up with the next part of the plan, Harry hoped. Hell, he would go back to the table, feigning exhaustion for apologizing twice. God, he needed to get a bowl of soup, he was going to have to spill it in her lap! It was the only way.
Harry listened intently as Niall arrived at their table. He could almost see the glitter of her tears in her eyes. Nearly crying again at the sight of Niall. He wanted to make a joke more than anything that it had nothing to do with Niall but everything to do with her favorite bread in his hands. But he was mortified. Speechless in front of a table waiting with waited breath as they heard the murmurs and the wisps of what Harry managed to mumble before Niall’s arrival.
“Garlic bread,” he announced, as if she didn’t know. “Buon appetite,” he winked casually. He was far better at lying and acting than Harry or herself combined. She was itching to run. Niall and Harry, both could stop him. Someone would tackle him, right? She was fluttery. Ready to leave as soon as she saw an opening because she didn’t know what else to do. “Can I get you two anything else?” Niall asked kindly.
“I know you,” he said. It lacked suspicion but was no less terrifying.
She could see Harry’s back straightened in her peripheral and his speech silenced. Matteo and the hostess were working from the other end of the room at the same time. Probably explaining the situation to every table as quietly as they could just like Harry was.
Without any tell in sight, Niall merely tilted his head and looked at him. “Hmm...sorry. M’not sure I recognize you,” he shrugged. Niall stepped closer, getting a better look at the man across from her. His acting skills deserved an award.
But in moving closer, Niall also blocked her a good margin from his view. It was her chance. She bolted. Running from the main room and toward the kitchen so fast it took a minute for anyone to realize she was gone. She zipped out the kitchen door, back through the alley, and up to her apartment. She heard a shout coming quickly behind her, so she had to be faster. She hurried back into her apartment unable to do anything but grab her phone off the table and run into the bedroom and hide in the closet, closing the door quietly behind her. She dialed Eleanor. Her heart pounding as she heard the sound of steps. She left the door open to make it look like she ran back out, but it was impossible.
He was already in the apartment. Already tearing through her belongings, shouting, upending her furniture, and rifling through everything.
“Babe?” Eleanor nearly screeched with relief.
“I can’t talk,” she whispered barely an audible octave.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay on the phone,” she promised. “The police are on their way.”
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general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz
@likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59
@babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06
@canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong
@foreverxholland @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03
@luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr
@crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @harryscherri
@indierockgirrl @michellekstyles @hermionelove @somethingabout1d19
Dolcezza: @matildasatellite @lovingfurypanda @sideboobrry11 @theresnooneheretosave @12yeahiminluvwu
@cohnfusedarling
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if I put you on the wrong list, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.
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comradekatara · 2 days
Note
If you're still doing the ship opinions, could you do jet/katara?
I think they’ve grown on me bc when I was a kid I was just like “katara can do so much better 😤” (and that’s true!) but I also think what he means to katara (whether or not he truly lives up to her image of him in her mind) is really interesting. like something that I think is really crucial to understand about their relationship is the fact that the reason she feels betrayed by him isn’t because he’s “a bad revolutionary” but because he treated her like a naive child and lied to her face about his methods, manipulated her into trusting him by exploiting her tendency to dismiss sokka, tried to kill her brother (which is something she immediately understands judging by the way her eyes well with tears as she asks “where’s sokka”), and played her for a fool. “I trusted you, you’re sick and I trusted you.” yes she takes issue with his methods, but she mostly hates that she trusted someone who didn’t deserve it and didn’t truly respect her.
she hates putting her faith in someone and being taken advantage of, especially because it’s one of the points that sokka is especially condescending towards her about, and she always wants to be proven right in their arguments (which is natural, who doesn’t), so the fact that sokka is usually right when it comes to reading people is particularly infuriating. and it’s especially egregious in this circumstance, because katara’s trust in jet over sokka is what directly led to jet killing sokka (or at least, the attempt to). in her pursuit of winning the lifelong argument against her brother, she nearly got her brother killed. so jet is interesting insofar as he informs katara and sokka’s dynamic, and also as he reflects a major part of katara’s psychology as someone who genuinely wants to form connections with others over shared trauma, which is an incredibly noble and beautiful tendency of hers.
I think the way he sweeps her off her feet (literally) is kind of adorable, not because he’s a likable love interest (imo), but because her reaction is nonetheless very cute. the ugly ass hat she makes him after they kissed (offscreen, but canonically) is soo precious to me I think about that all the time (and the fact that aang is also the one who ends up wearing it…. my heart). and her reaction when they reunite later is fascinating, because even though it’s in such a different context and jet is literally brainwashed, katara acts like a scorned lover while sokka (number one jet hater in the world) approaches the situation in a more detached and logical way. it’s clear that her feelings for jet were incredibly strong, and the terror and guilt she felt over nearly letting sokka die at his hands has stayed with her and impacted in a very profound way, whereas sokka never actually felt like he jet had his life in his hands because he always knew that jet was a con artist who doesn’t really pose a threat to him.
but katara actually held a lot of respect for him, and he betrayed that trust and shattered her admiration irreparably. and then, of course, he nearly redeems himself, helps her in a major way, and dies in her arms. she cannot save him, and suddenly whatever could have been is gone not because he failed her, but because she failed him. and it’s subtle, and hardly mentioned, but I do think the trauma of that, in both instances, really informs katara’s perspective in many key ways, if not consciously, then subconsciously. it informs how she reacts to aang’s death only a few weeks later, and it informs her anger at zuko when he betrays her. jet is a key player in katara’s life and how she approaches her relationships going forward, and for that, he cannot be discounted.
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jooba · 3 days
Text
wolfman x reader
"Imagine getting the great news that you're one of a million civilians chosen to go to a distant planet, to intermingle with the local aliens. Unfortunately, your online friend doesn't exactly seem to like that idea."
TW: MDNI, reader referred to as 'girl', sexual desires, anxiety, neurodivergent reader, reader big dumb, licking, 'virgin' reader, hand appreciation
wordcount: 2,388
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Three words: Civilian Space Program. The most incredible opportunity of a lifetime (for an average Joe like you).
One word: Congratulations! The letter you held in your shaking hands almost didn’t seem real. It was glossy, professional, and signed by someone so important that it was a 100% probability that you would never breathe the same air as them. Congratulations! But it was real, and your life would never be the same. You were going to space. To meet aliens. Your poor little heart almost couldn’t take it. Breath labored, you quickly snapped a picture of the letter before posting it to all of your socials. Quickly, friends and family bombarded you with questions and excitement, just as in disbelief as you are. Several phone calls later, and plenty of assurances to those with concerns, you fell back onto your couch, still clutching the letter. In just a month, you would be boarding a vessel with 14 other civilians, shipped off to the planet Geron 6GI, and left there for 3 years to “create relations” and “cultivate a human lifestyle”. Whatever that means. All you knew was that you… were a monsterfucker… and… well… aliens are sort of like monsters too. 
In your elation, you nearly missed the newest comment on your Instagram post. It was Peter, an online friend whom you had known for years. It simply said, “call me.” Peter knew about the program and how badly you wanted to be in it, but he was pretty adamant that your chances were too low. Smiling, you dialed his number. He answered on the first ring, speaking before you had a chance to.
“This is serious? You’re serious?” 
“Of course! I’m freaking out, Peter. I’m going to SPACE. I’m going to fuck so many aliens, you don't even know. Well, you do know, but-”
“You’re leaving in a month?” He asked. You kicked your legs in glee, squealing. 
“Yep! 3 years in space and depending on how the program goes it might go on for longer. God, should I bring my toys? Do you think they’ll even be allowed on the flight? But what if the aliens have toys that I can buy…” Your breath hitched just at the thought. There was silence on his end for a few moments.
“You’re a virgin.” Cheeks turning red, you scoffed into your phone.
“So what?” 
“So you’re giving yourself away to some random alien?” He hissed the word lowly, talking in a manner you had never heard from him before. You take a second to collect your thoughts, not understanding where his aggression is coming from.
“Peter… we live in the 21st century. Virginity is a stupid construct. Besides, I uh... I’m not really a virgin, you know.” 
“What?” 
“Ugh, can we not talk about this? So embarrassing…” You mumble, turning to a more comfortable position on the couch. There was silence as both of you struggled with what to say next. It wasn’t like you were actually embarrassed talking about sexual things, but Peter had a way of making your stomach flutter. It was awful having a mini crush on someone online, and even worse when he insisted on hearing all the details of your life. All the details. 
“I’m going to come see you.” He said, sighing into the phone. You froze, blinking in surprise. The two of you had never met in real life before, you’ve never even seen a picture of him! Sometimes, you would discuss meeting, but he lived a long flight away and schedules never seemed to work out. Over time, the thought of seeing him in person became too daunting, and you always shot him down. What if he thought you were too ugly to be friends with? What if the two of you couldn’t get along in person, and he lost interest? 
“A-are you sure, Peter?” You could hear the smile in his voice as he responded. 
“Of course.”
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You stood nervously in the airport, shifting back and forth. People kept glancing at you, giving you curious glances. Avoiding eyes with an old troll whose beard desperately needed maintenance, you wiped the sweat from your face with your sleeve. Maybe you’d be less nervous if you had brought a friend with you to pick up Peter… Your phone buzzed with a text. 
landing now
You watch as the terminal quickly fills up with tired travelers. Eyes swiping back and forth from person to person, you attempt to pick out a man to match Peter’s description of himself. But his description was so vague, all you really knew was that apparently he was tall and had brown hair. 
Someone bumps into you, and your phone clatters to the ground. They quickly apologize but scurry away too quickly for you to get a good look at them. Grumbling, you bend down to pick up your phone, dusting it off and checking for cracks. When your eyes lift, your heart explodes in surprise at the wolfman standing before you. Hot! Inner you squeals. Standing nearly two heads taller than you, he’s lean and dressed very cleanly. Chestnut-colored fur streaks around his cheeks and neck, speckled with darker colors around his hairline and dipping underneath his shirt. Black eyes peer at you, squinting slightly.
“Oh, um. Hi!” You laugh nervously, tugging at your hair. “Just dropped my phone.” You wave your phone in front of you, but then quickly tuck it away when you realize how dumb you probably looked. The wolfman’s mouth slowly curls up into a predatory smile, top lip slightly gaped to allow for pointy fangs to peek through. 
“You’re cute,” he says quietly, eyes appraising your figure. You have to desperately ignore the urge to cover yourself from his evaluating gaze. You laugh weakly.
“T-thanks.” You give him a small smile. The two of you stare at each other for a moment. He hikes his backpack up over his shoulders, raising one eyebrow at you. Does he want something from you…? Oh god. Despite his good looks, it’s not the best time to be flirting with someone: not when you’re waiting for Peter. 
“I’m sorry. I’m.. uh… picking up a friend. Sorry.” You glance away from him, pretending to search the crowd for Peter. Why is he taking so long?
The wolfman grumbles with quiet laughter, almost a mixture of a purr and low-pitched whine. It's a rather charming sound. Suddenly, his clawed hand is on your scalp, rubbing against your hair to mess it up. He tugs certain strands this way and that, causing an absolute mess. You gasp, pulling away, quickly attempting to fix the mess he just made. 
“You’re even denser in person than I thought you would be,” he says, looking extremely satisfied at your misery. His ears twitch slightly. You pause, squinting up at him in irritation.
“Well, that’s rude. And please don’t touch my hair, I don’t know you.” You take a step back away from him in caution just to be safe. 
The wolfman huffs, rolling his eyes slowly. “That’s the thing. You do know me.” He pulls his phone out, and types onto it quickly, before looking at you expectantly. Your phone buzzes. A message from Peter. 
right in front of you. so dense.
You can’t quiet the gasp that leaves your mouth in time. You gape up at him, astonished.
“You never told me you were a wolfman!?!” 
Heart racing, you bring your knuckle up to your mouth and light chew on a finger. All these years, all the calls and long talks and he never thought to mention his species?! Oh god, you have said so many embarrassing things to him: things you would never say to a non-human. Things about giant monster cocks and clawed hands and fluffy sensitive ears and oh my GOD. You swear heat is steaming out of your ears with how embarrassed you are. 
“Didn’t think it mattered,” he shrugs. He reaches up to lightly scratch at one fluffy ear, maintaining eye contact with you. It twitches at his touch, apparently sensitive. You want to coo and squeal at how cute it is, but you restrain, just barely. Gnawing on your finger, you avert your eyes. You must not look at the handsome wolfman. Must resist. Must get Peter home without drowning in your drool…
One car ride home, hours of gentle ribbing and teasing, a desperate call to the nearest fast food joint, and a change into pajamas later, you find yourself sitting on your couch, a bowl of popcorn in hand, waiting patiently for Peter to join you. He’s taking a long time in the bathroom, but you’re not too worried. It seemed your apartment was a bit too small for him, and he was constantly ducking his head and squeezing past your furniture. Admittedly, it was really charming. You can’t help but shovel popcorn into your face as you wait. You can’t wait too long, otherwise the popcorn will get stale! In the middle of licking your fingers free from butter and salt, Peter plops down next to you. You slide down the couch and end up sitting right against you. He wraps an arm around you on the couch, hands already playing with your hair. He’s dressed in loose pajama pants and a t-shirt that says ‘You are fang-tastic!’ in faded letters.
“Really couldn’t wait for me, huh.” You smile in embarrassment, pulling your fingers out of your mouth. His dark eyes quickly zero in on your glistening fingers. Grimacing, you go to wipe them on your pants, but his hand wraps around your wrist before you can. You immediately notice how much bigger his hand is than yours, and how fur wraps around his knuckles but his fingers and palm are bare. 
“Let me,” he purrs, eyes drooping into half lids. He opens his mouth and a long, pink tongue rolls out. It’s rounded at the end and fades into a slight purple the further back it gets. You’re instantly drawn to it and watch in stunned silence as he brings your fingers up to his mouth. He licks a long stripe up your fingers before twisting and turning them to lap at every inch. Quickly, your fingers become drenched in hot saliva. You clench your thighs, wishing he would put that tongue somewhere else… A soft noise leaves you, and he meets your eyes again. You mentally berate yourself for having dirty thoughts about your friend. He nips gently at your pointer finger. You squeak and pull your hand away, face certainly red. You hold your hand to your chest limply, now drenched in saliva. You blink at him, words caught in your throat.
“Mmm… tastes good.” Right. Good popcorn. Ha ha… ha… The TV blares and the two of you startle at the noise. Peter is quick to grab the remote and mute it. He watches the quiet television for a moment, throat bobbing.
“Let’s talk for a moment, space girl.” His voice is almost... uncertain. You grin unabashedly at the nickname, pleased. It immediately calms you down and you find yourself relaxing.
“Sure!” You place the popcorn down and turn on the couch, facing him directly. He turns to face you as well, one leg crossing over the other. The arm around the back of the couch begins to tap on the cushion.
“Just let me talk for a moment, no interruptions, okay?” He raises an eyebrow when you open your mouth to respond, and you huff, but stay quiet.
“Honestly, I thought I was being pretty straightforward with you all this time, but with this space fiasco, I knew you weren’t exactly getting the message. Had to talk to you face-to-face. I’ll make this short and sweet, easy to understand. I don’t want you going to space.” He raises one hand when you look like you are about to object. Breathing deeply, he continues.
“Don’t go to space. Stay here. I’ll give you all the monster cock you want, promise… I’m not usually one to wait so long, but I knew during our first call I would have to take it slow with you. I’ve been biding my time all these years, slowly getting to know you, waiting for my chance. And then I saw your post. When I saw that, it left me ‘peterified’.” He chuffs at his joke, pleased. 
“So yeah, I’ve got feelings for you. And a lot of them revolve around ramming my cock down your throat. Or god, knotting you,” he sighs wistfully as he speaks. He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. 
.
.
.
Ho….ly…. SHIT! You’re frozen on the spot, mind racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. You’ve dreamt of this moment, dreamt of a monster desiring you. And now…now you’re presented with an opportunity. 
“F-forget space! Oh my god. Peter? Peter!” You’re squealing now, your body shaking with excitement. You stand up and begin pacing, not even really aware of what you’re doing. Peter relaxes on the couch, mouth tilted up in a sly smile.
“This is crazy. Are you serious? He’s serious. I-I need to shave! And prep! Oh god, I don’t know if I’m ready for this…” You bite at your finger nervously, the beginnings of nausea twisting your stomach. Who knew that aching and wanting something for so long would have you feeling so sick?
Peter tugs at your hand, slowing your pacing. 
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, you nut. Just breathe.” He breathes in deeply, and you copy him instinctually. He guides your breath into something much slower, much more manageable. You smile at him gratefully, falling onto the couch. 
“Sorry, this is just… a lot,” you sigh out. He shakes his head. 
“Not at all. Just take it easy.” He nudges your knee with his. “Just think about it, yeah?” You nudge him back, eyes twinkling.
“So, all this time you’ve…” you question. He simply nods his head.
“But you didn’t even know what I looked like?” You're surprised when his face starts to turn a gentle shade of red. He coughs into his fist, looking away. He speaks, in a cool tone that doesn’t match his cheeks, “Yeah, I knew right from the start. Your looks are just a plus.” 
Aaand now you’re looking away, embarrassed. 
“Oh, okay,” you mumble. 
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five-rivers · 3 days
Text
Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 9
@greatbigolhampuckjustforme
“Okay, for the next one,” said Danny, doodling on a piece of paper, “I think I’m going to pick from the older end again.  Like, I’ve done number one, number five, and number seven, so that leaves two, three, four and six.  Could just do the middle one, four.  That’s the biggest group.  Or I could do one of the single people.”
“You could pick any of them,” said Clockwork.  He placed another piece into the puzzle he was working on at the dining room table.  
“I know,” said Danny.  “I’m just thinking out loud.”  He’d been leaving Clockwork’s after breakfast, but he’d broken that habit this time around.  It was almost noon.  He just couldn’t make up his mind.  
Part of him wondered if he should have stayed with Vlad a bit longer.  Maybe he could have pushed him to tell the truth.  But… he didn’t know how Vlad would have reacted to that.  What if it had been bad?  
On the other hand, it might have been good to know if his reaction to being pushed had been bad.  If it had been, Danny would have known not to pick him.  Maybe… maybe deciding to leave was a little… cowardly.  
“Hey, Clockwork?”
“Yes?”  He looked up from the puzzle, but kept inserting pieces.  
“Am I different than I was with my memory?  Like, am I acting different than I would have, if I still remembered?”
“Of course.  You would have knowledge that you currently do not, if you remembered.”
“Okay,” said Danny.  “Sure, I get that.  But what about… I’m… Am I acting like, not as… brave?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Vlad said I was sort of a, I don’t know, a superhero, kind of.”
“I see.”
“But I kind of feel like if I had been, then I’d be more…  I would have acted differently, with Vlad.”
“Hm,” said Clockwork.  “I think I understand what you mean.”
“And?” prompted Danny.  
“And, I have often found that it is easier to be brave if you have something to be brave for.  When it is not a choice so much as it is a necessity.  You do not need to be brave, here.  This isn’t one of those situations.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“I am,” said Clockwork.  “You aren’t unmonitored, when you are visiting the candidates.  Part of my role is to enforce the rules.”
“I don’t really see how that means I don’t need to be brave in this situation.  I kind of feel like there’s a lot I need to be brave about, here.  I could be hiding out in my room instead of out here.”
“You could be.”
“But I’m not.  I’d say that was… brave…  Wait, that’s not the position I was arguing before.”
“It is not,” said Clockwork.  
Danny scowled at him, then slouched down in his chair.  “You know what else is brave?  Your new decorative choices.”
The walls of the kitchen - not to mention the rest of the house - were now covered in clocks of various sizes and shapes.  
“Mhm.  Well, in your absence, I must occupy myself.”  
Danny looked around the room again, eyes lingering on the clocks.  “I don’t know that I’m that… occupying.  Like, I’ve not been here for more than a day at a time, and usually less than that.”  He hesitated.  “And we don’t… do that much together, do we?”
“We’re doing things together now.”
“I’m mostly just complaining at you about my choices, but okay.”
“Even so.”
“What if I just… take another day?  To decide who to go to next, I mean.”
“Take as long as you want.  In the meantime, you could help me with this puzzle.”
“Or,” proposed Danny, “we could play some video games together.  A lot of the ones I like are multiplayer.”
Clockwork put the remaining puzzle pieces back in the box.  “We can certainly try that.  I’ve never played before.”
Danny grinned.  “I think you’ll like it.”
.
“Are you sure you’ve never played before?” asked Danny.  
“Quite.”
“You’re good.”
“I have always prided myself on my timing.”
Danny groaned as he died again.  
.
“Okay, I’ve made my decision,” said Danny, a few days later.  Breakfast that day consisted of french toast.
“Really?”
“You don’t have to sound so skeptical.”
“This is my normal voice.”
“Is it?”
“It is.  What is your choice?” asked Clockwork.   
“Eager to get rid of me?”
“I am merely curious.”
“Sure,” said Danny.  “Sure you are.”
“Daniel,” said Clockwork, with a faint air of exasperation.  
“I want to visit the third person,” said Danny.  “I figure I might as well be symmetrical.”
“It’s as good a system as any.  Do you want to leave now, or later?”
“Now,” said Danny.  He did not say, ‘before I change my mind again.’
“Very well.”  
Clockwork raised his staff, a spark of blue swirling off the tip.  The portal would form in just a split second.  
“I’ll miss you,” blurted Danny, impulsively.  
Clockwork’s eyes widened slightly, but he did not respond before the portal swept Danny away.  
The first thing Danny noticed about the new place was how cold it was.  He wrapped his arms around himself, and cursed himself for not realizing that someone named Frostbite of the Far Frozen would live somewhere cold.  
“Oh, dear,” said a deep voice.  “Great one, my apologies.  I did not realize your core would be inactivated.”
Danny was bundled into a pair of furry arms and swept away to a much warmer area.  That wasn’t to say it was warm.  Just.  Warmer.  
“Oh, wow, that was cold,” said Danny.  He rubbed his arms and wrapped his tail around his knees.  
“Yes,” said Frostbite.  “Usually that’s not an issue for you.”
“I can’t imagine why not.”  Danny shot a look at his latest temporary guardian.  
Frostbite was a huge, tall, white-furred ghost.  He had a long muzzle and horns, along with ears that had more than a passing resemblance to Danny’s.  Danny ran a hand over his own ears, wondering.  Were they related somehow?  
“Generally,” said Frostbite, “in the normal course of things, that is, you are quite cold-resistant.  You have a cold core, like myself, although that aspect of your core seems to have been rendered dormant.”
“Vlad mentioned cores,” said Danny.  
Frostbite's furry eyebrows went up.  “You have already met Plasmius?”
“Um, yeah.  Just before you, actually.”
“What?!”  Frostbite patted Danny over with his large, paw-like hands.  “Did he harm you?  Are you injured?  Did he do anything to you?”
“Um,” said Danny, stepping back.  “No.  He was pretty chill actually.”
“Chill.”
“I mean, like.  He didn’t do anything bad to me.  He was pretty nice, even though he didn’t tell me we’d been enemies.  The Dairy King did.”
Frostbite got a sort of pinched look on his face.  “The Dairy King was assisting him?  How unusual.”
“I don’t know about assisting,” said Danny.  “He did tell me about how Vlad and I used to fight and all.”
“Even so,” said Frostbite.  His eyes were still roving over Danny, apparently worried.  “I would like to give you a full medical checkup.  I was unable to do so… before.”
“Before the trial?” asked Danny, tilting his head to one side.  He felt one of his ears flick.  
“Yes,” said Frostbite, heavily.
He seemed to be struggling with whether or not to say anything else, so Danny took the opportunity to look around.  
The room he was in was… strange.  There was really no other way to put it.  It was small.  Only about the size of Danny’s bedroom at home with Clockwork.  The walls, where they were visible, looked like ice-covered stone, but they mostly weren’t visible.  They were covered with layers of fur and strange tapestries.  Some of the tapestries looked more or less like Danny imagined tapestries to look: lengths of tightly-woven and embroidered fabric.  Others looked more like carpets.  Still others were embroidered furs.  The floors, too, were covered in layered furs and carpets.  Illumination was provided by globs of floating blue fire.  
Other than that, the room was empty.
“I was your doctor before, Great One.”
They looked at each other for a long moment.  Danny imagined that Frostbite was facing the same dilemma he was.  He couldn’t decide what to ask next.  He couldn’t decide what was safe to ask.  
“So, you’re a doctor?”  That seemed like a safe question.
“I am,” said Frostbite.  “Medicine for cold core ghosts is one of the specialties of my tribe.  When you have been ill or injured in the past, we have taken care of you.”
Danny hadn’t really thought all that much about the social structures of ghosts.  He remembered the Observants, and he had a vague recollection of kingdoms and tribes being a thing, but he was far more familiar with the workings of a republic, his human life taking precedence in this case.  He made a mental note to ask Frostbite more about how tribes worked later.  
“And I have a cold core like you?  That’s why you’re my doctor?”
“Yes,” said Frostbite.  
“Are we related?” asked Danny.  Frostbite’s tail - what Danny could see of it, anyway - wasn’t quite like Danny’s, but he did have white fur and pointed ears, so…
This question surprised a laugh out of Frostbite.  “It would be my honor, but, no, Great One.  Although we share some similarities, that is not one of them.”
“And you’re calling me Great One because…?”
“Because you saved my people, and, indeed, all the Infinite Realms, from a terrible fate when Plasmius released Pariah Dark, the old king of ghosts, from his prison.”
“The superhero thing?” asked Danny.  
Frostbite chuckled.  “I believe you referred to your tendencies as that a few times in my hearing.  You, and your friends.  But, truly, it would give me a great deal of peace if you let me make sure that you are, indeed, healthy, and that whatever technique they used to remove your memory has not damaged you unduly.”
“You could tell if it did?” asked Danny, suddenly a lot less reluctant.  
Frostbite nodded, gravely.  
“Okay,” said Danny.  ��But I’m not sure if I can really handle it if the way there is as cold as the way here.”
“I will carry you,” said Frostbite.  “The medical bay itself is heated, to accommodate your human half, as are many of the rooms.”
Danny sighed in relief.  This would have been a very short visit if they hadn’t been.  This room was fine, but he didn’t like the idea of being confined to such a small space indefinitely.  
“And perhaps we could take one of these,” said Frostbite, pulling a thick, fluffy-looking fur from one of the walls.  “Just to add another layer between you and the cold.”
“Right,” said Danny, feeling nervous again as he contemplated being bundled up like that.  It was fine.  Clockwork was watching.  Monitoring.  Whatever.  He had the pocketwatch.  
It took a bit of maneuvering for Danny to get into a comfortable position, but once he did, Frostbite wasted no time pushing aside the thick, curtain-like door of the room and walking back out into the cold.  Danny drew in on himself, shivering, despite their precautions.  
(In a slightly less frigid environment, being held in Frostbite’s arms would have been downright cozy.  He made a note to experiment later.  If Frostbite was trustworthy enough for cuddles.)
“S-so,” said Danny, trying to take his mind off the cold.  “Wh-what did I do with Pariah D-Dark?”  Vlad had told him a version of the story, but he doubted it was complete, especially given that he’d failed to mention anything about who released Pariah Dark in the first place.  
“You rallied the ghosts of the Wastes,” said Frostbite.  “a veritable and largely lawless rabble.  You convinced them to fight, even convincing Walker and Dorathea of Mattingly to lend their power.  You led them against Pariah Dark’s thrall armies, and stormed his keep using a suit of armor that sapped your life even as it increased your power.  You fought the mad king one-on-one, and forced him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, whereupon Plasmius was able to lock him in again.  You very nearly died, you very nearly ended, and were willing to do so, in order to stop Pariah Dark.”
“H-huh,” said Danny.  He couldn’t really imagine doing something like that.  But it did more or less line up with what Vlad said… except that in Vlad’s story, Danny’s role had been less… prominent.  
They reached the medical bay, a large cave full of mysterious machinery, shortly after that, and Danny was again happy to find himself in relative warmth.  Frostbite started explaining the medical exams he wanted to carry out, and Danny listened half-heartedly.  
“Hey,” he said, during a lull between explanations.  “Do you think you could fix my amnesia?”
“It is not impossible,” said Frostbite, slowly, turning away from the thing he’d been fiddling with .  “But it would depend heavily on what method they used to give you that amnesia in the first place.  For example, Lethean waters are very effective and entirely irreversible.  On the other hand, they could have removed and stored your memories via a memory jar, in which case you would need to have that jar to recover your memories.  Alternatively, there are several ways by which your memories could be bound in place, or obscured.  However… attempting to restore your memories would be a blatant violation of the rules of this trial.”
“But would you try?”
“If you asked me to, Great One.”
Danny frowned and looked away.  “Why are you doing this?”
“Giving you a medical checkup?” asked Frostbite.  “Because I am concerned for your health.”
Danny waved that answer away, and forced himself to look back at Frostbite.  “No, I mean, why are you participating in this trial?  Why do you want custody of me?  I mean, if you’re just my doctor, that’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”
Frostbite huffed.  “I do like to think of myself as more than ‘just’ your doctor.  I mentored you extensively after your ice powers developed.  I daresay you are one of my more successful students, at that, even if your, ah… first attempts at control were rough.”
“You know what I mean.  You call me ‘Great One,’ and that’s flattering and all, but it isn’t really a parental kind of thing, is it?”
“I suppose not,” said Frostbite.  “It would bring me nothing but joy if you did choose me, Great One, and I would do my utmost to live up to the task and dedicate myself to parenting you, but I do have something of an ulterior motive in joining this trial.”
“What is it?” asked Danny.  
“I came to warn you.”  Frostbite squared his shoulders.  “I never met your birth parents, only your sisters, but from your words and theirs…  I believe they harmed you, Great One.  Intentionally and repeatedly.  And I believe that it is their actions that necessitated this custody trial.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Danny.  “Why?  Why do you think that?”
“First,” said Frostbite, “you mentioned to me on several occasions that your parents were ghost hunters.”
“Oh.  Ow,” said Danny.  
“Secondly, a few times - only a few, but they stand out sharply in my memory -  you visited me for help after being affected by one of your parents’ weapons.  I have the records of those visits here.  You brushed aside my concerns regarding your parents then, saying that they did not know you would be harmed, or that the incidents were mere accidents.”
That… certainly sounded bad.  
“Thirdly, and finally, the existence of this custody trial in and of itself.  These are beyond uncommon, even considering the Observants’ interest in you.”  Frostbite’s snout wrinkled.  Speaking of which, you should be wary of them as well.”
“Already ahead of you on that one,” said Danny, thoughts racing.  “But I thought the reason for the custody hearing was that they were dead.”
Frostbite’s eyes widened slightly.  “Who told you that?  I know that at least one of them is participating.”
“What?” said Danny.  “Are you sure?”
“Yes.  My spy wasn’t able to be more specific than that, curse the Observants, but I have full confidence in them as a member of my tribe.”
“Do you know their names?  What they’re called, what they look like?” asked Danny.  
Frostbite shook his head.  “As I said, I never met them.”
“Maybe we can work it out by elimination, though,” said Danny.  “I could tell you the names of the other people on my list of candidates–”
Frostbite’s head-shaking became more frantic.  “Goodness, no.  I’m limited in how specific I can be about the…”  He sighed.  “Competition.”
“Right,” said Danny.  “But you just came to warn me?  That’s all?”
“And to give you some measure of safety.  I knew your parents were participating, I knew Plasmius would not miss the chance, and I haven’t a clue about who else might be involved.  I wanted you to have at least one safe option.”
That was nice and all, but Danny couldn’t help but feel a little put out.  He didn’t want to be an obligation that someone was picking up because they felt like they had to.  
He was probably just being ungrateful, though.  
“Great One?” asked Frostbite.  
“Hm?”
“I asked if you would like me to try to get your memories back.”
“Oh,” said Danny.  He thought about it for a while.  “No.  I don’t want you to get in trouble.  But maybe… could you find out what’s going on with my core?  And help me remember how to use those ice powers you mentioned?”
“Of course, Great One!  It would be my pleasure.”
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astonmartingf · 9 hours
Text
YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—
— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again
P9 ★ SEE YOU IN MY FUTURE
amgf probably 2k words? almost 3k? idk but it's hurt/comfort! i did cry, and yes so... i'm emotional because it's ending but also... it's ENDING 😀🫵 DKXJSKDJZJ one more chapter yay!!! shout out to day6, what would this chapter be without your songs... enjoy 👍
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You weren't sure what to expect— despite your severe reaction the past week, you're now mellowed down and calm, you think back on your conversation with Seb a few months ago before his retirement.
You definitely have not moved on, and the mention of the upcoming season definitely felt like a band-aid ripped off a bleeding wound. And all the pain and resentment you felt was now revealed beneath the familial memories you built with Ales and Fernando.
Driving up to his gate, you're instantly filled with the comfort of his private home. The place you spent most of your time outside work, and even more than your own house, with Ales and Fernando. You rub away the headache slowly building in your head, getting out of your car and meeting Fernando who greeted you out of his home.
"Are you feeling better?"
You wince away, as you take a seat on the chair opposite of him. It would be much easier if he resented you the way you did. That you'd rather he treat you unfairly in the last few years, but he's Fernando. He's the father of your son, and the man you tenderly love, even to this day.
Which only hurts more, knowing you can never fully let go of the past, despite both growing since your separation but seeing him with Ales sparked the burning hope in you. Maybe this would be the time for you and Fernando, that this might be the future you've been longing for all along.
"I'm sorry, how I reacted last week... I thought I was okay with it, but I guess I still feel the same way." You rub your arms, looking elsewhere but Fernando's eyes, knowing well he's staring right through you. You were scared and vulnerable, all throughout the years you noticed your apprehension in communicating your feelings for the sake of your relationship. And it wasn't going well for you, or for Fernando, but this time it'd be different.
"And before you say anything, I just want to say that I'm proud of you. I'm glad you still race, and for the upcoming season. I understand if you think it's too selfish of me not to come, but Ales will, I just think I'm not ready for it yet."
You gulp down your nerves, raising your head, staring head on at Alonso who is still smiling. It breaks your heart, seeing him like this— if only he'd get up and say something about how unfair it is to him.
"I understand it. You don't have to worry, I won't force you." Silence.
The room was met with silence, until you hear the sniffles coming from Fernando, leaving you frozen in your seat. As much as you hate being vulnerable in front of him, you never thought he'd cry in front of you first.
You hear his laughter, seconds after as he wipes the tears falling from him eyes.
"Please, don't worry this is not your fault... I guess you could say I'm overwhelmed. I only ever thought about this moment, I kept thinking about when we can have this talk, but you were so focused on Ales. Rightfully so, he's our son and our priority, so even though I wanted to fix what has been broken before, maybe it wasn't the time. And when we talked last night, I kept blaming myself for rushing you, because it was my fault.
And now, you're telling me yourself, I'm happy you're here. I'm happy that you told me yourself, and every day I will prove myself to be better, not just as Ales' father but as someone who is worthy to be with you. I'm sorry if I'm being emotional, I just didn't think I would come close to this again. And with you, if you resent me, I won't blame you. I resent myself every day, after you left me, and this... this is more than enough for me right now."
It wasn't long before the tears began to fall from your eyes, you only ever thought of your pain. Choosing to leave with Ales, away from Fernando— away from the years you've been together. Away from the only man you ever loved.
Your only concern was licking the wounds of what was left from Fernando, what you didn't think was how he felt all those years.
"I'm sorry... How lonely it must've felt for you all those years. Away from Ales— I promise you, this time it will be different. One day, we will be together— I know it, because I don't think I'd have it any other way than you. I love you Fernando! I still do, even after all these years—"
Closing you eyes, your hands instinctively wrap around Fernando's neck wanting him closer, pulling him from more. Hands grabbing his face, feeling the tears fall down your fingers. Wiping them away, you kiss him once more before pulling each other in a tight hug.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kiss you without—"
"Shhh..." You hush Fernando's worries, resting your head on his shoulder, hands trailing over his back, resting them on top of his thick hair.
"I'm happy we had this conversation as well. Thank you Fernando. Thank you for still seeing me in your future. I had so many worries, and questions— all this time, I was just a coward. A selfish coward you decided for the both of us."
Fernando shakes his head, tutting his lips, "I won't let you day those things to yourself you hear me? You are brave and courageous, understand? And I love you, even though I feel undeserving of your feeling, I will work hard to be the man who deserves it. What happened, I don't blame you. But we'll figure these things out as the time goes by, don't be a stranger?"
With blurry eyes, you remove your head from Fernando's shoulders nodding your head. "I think I need to rest for a bit, can I take a nap here for a bit?"
"You want me to pick up Ales from Lance's while you sleep?"
The mention of your son immediately brought the sparkle in your eyes, which wasn't missed by Fernando who only smiled as he tucked you in his bed. "You can rest for a while, and when you wake up, we will be here. Sleep well Amor."
You feel your eyes getting heavier as Fernando's voice begins to thin out, you feel him leave a small kiss on your forehead causing you to smile before dosing off to your sleep.
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yourusername
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liked by lancestroll, sebastianvettel, and 41 others
yourusername may the spark in your eye, and the fire in your heart burns brighter, lighting a flame to your path wherever you go.
★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol @celemilii @lozzamez3 @callsignwidow @hrts4scarr
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vaguely-concerned · 2 days
Text
Silly Garashir ficlet, Teen and Up-ish, mostly banter! CW: copious amounts of blood but like. Purely in a comedy capacity (don’t worry none of it is Garak’s)
“Good god,” Julian breathed, unable to do anything but stare for a moment. 
“Oh, don’t worry, none of this is mine,” Garak said, dripping puddles of crimson onto the floor, calm blue eyes the only thing peeking out from the solid layer of blood covering his face and upper torso. “The gravest injury has been to my wardrobe, I assure you. As you might have gathered, I encountered our suspected evildoer as they sought to make their escape.”
“From the looks of things, I’d hazard it’s more accurate to say that they encountered you,” Julian said. He shook himself out of his momentary petrification and raised the medical tricorder to make sure Garak’s reports of being unharmed hadn’t been greatly exaggerated, as would sometimes be the case with him. 
“However you would prefer to frame it,” Garak said, dipping his chin modestly and blinking globs of blood from his eyelashes. “I’m sorry to say I couldn’t ascertain many details about them, neither in terms of species or other identifying details. They were masked and coming at me with a knife at the time, which in the moment tends to blot out other considerations in one’s mind.”
Despite himself, Julian grinned at the performative airiness of Garak’s tone. He did seem to be basically fine. “I think that’s understandable under the circumstances, Garak. Odo’s probably going to track them down pretty quick, if they’re leaving a trail of blood across the station. Do you, er… want a handkerchief or something?” 
“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think that’s going to do the job in this case.”  
“No,” Julian had to admit, “no, you’re — probably right. I’ll let you go for a thorough sonic and peace and quiet once I’m done with this. I’m sure Odo will want a word with you later, though.”
Garak parted his lips to say something, and grimaced. “Ugh. Well, if it’s any help in figuring out the identity of our culprit, that’s definitely the taste of Napean blood. As you mentioned there will of course also likely be other clues, like them bleeding profusely as they sprint across the Promenade, but I always strive to be helpful wherever I can.” 
“Garak!” Julian yelped, shooting him an alarmed look and continuing his inspection of the tricorder readings with renewed worry. 
“Hm? Yes? You can run whatever tests you want on it to be sure, of course, but I am quite certain in my conclusion. There is a… distinctive tang to —”
“That’s so medically unsafe, you can’t go around ingesting —” 
“Well, I hardly meant to ingest anything, Doctor, but it did end up all over my person in a way that makes it hard to entirely avoid,” Garak snapped, though he tolerated Julian going in for a second, even more thorough examination without complaint. “Maybe if this person hadn’t so rudely insisted on venting the contents of their arteries straight into my face during our tussle — ”
“Yes, yes, I understand, sorry, I wasn’t suggesting you did it on purpose or anything, but it does mean I really do need to monitor you for any allergic reactions or bloodborne… wait, wait, hang on, how do you even know what Napean blood — ”
Smiling in a way that aimed for beatific and missed it by way of too many bared teeth, in a manner that would probably be quite unsettling if Julian wasn’t so used to (so fond of, whispered a treacherous little voice in the back of his head) Garak’s face, Garak dabbed daintily at the worst of the blood dripping off his nose with his sleeve and said: “Do you really want to know, or is this your outsized curiosity running ahead of your better judgment again?”
“I’m going to be wondering about it all night, but no, I don’t think I want to know, actually. If I come back in a week and still can’t put it out of my mind, feel free to tell me, though. Or use that time to come up with a good story, I don’t mind.”
“Never any but the best for you, my friend,” Garak said fondly. 
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Derek and Noah for Stiles
No matter what, I believe Derek and Noah were two of the few, who truly cared for Stiles. Unconditionally and wholeheartedly, despite everything. And Stiles does the same for them.
Noah - the Sheriff
Of course as Stiles' father, Noah cared for him like a father should with his son but he did more, not only cause he was a single parent but also due to the supernatural being involved in their lives and messing around with Stiles.
When Stiles shows up back home with his cheeks bruised and his lip kind of cut open, Noah is already holding his son's face and he's already angry. Sriles tells him it's okay but the sheriff gets ever more angry, threatening to involve the police and deal with the kids himself. Just a few seconds earlier he was wondering where Stiles was, hoping he was okay, and when he got there and said "right here" Noah is relieved Stiles is back.
When Stiles is possessed and they are in Derek's loft, Chris aims to kill Stiles (the nogitsune has he views it) and the sheriff begs the hunter not to. He's holding his own gun, ready to fire at Chris despite both being on the same side.
In the movie, when Derek says "maybe you should call your son" Noah is dismissive about it. He doesn't want to disturb Stiles with Beacon Hills after all he went through in that city. He doesn't wanna worry his son or cause him trouble.
Also, and this is in all seasons, Noah is extremely patient with Stiles. Like a saint he tries to listen and understand as much as he's capable of handling until he breaks down too, because he's human just like Stiles. But still, Noah's is one of the few that takes time to understand and listen to Stiles, and even if he's his son it doesn't take away the importance of what he does for Stiles.
And, despite Noah probably knows very well that Stiles basically sucks and never plays on the field, he compliments him when he does and even score a point, which is the most the sheriff has probably ever see Stiles do. And he compliments him in a very delicate way, nothing fancy or anything, just a father proud of his son.
Derek
Even if Derek always seemed annoyed by Stiles, he also did anything to protect him.
When he was in prison with Chris he asked him if he would feel remorse for killing Stiles and Chris said yes, only if it was actually Stiles. Derek was silent and thinking, he didn't want to kill Stiles even if he had to, even if it was the "only way out" with the nogitsune.
Derek believed Stiles over Jennifer when he asked her about his father and he kept denying to know anything about it. He knew how important the sheriff was to Stiles and didn't want him to lose the only family he had left and be alone, suffering the loss of his father.
Also, just like Noah was ready to shot at Chris in the loft, Derek was ready to fight Chris to protect Stiles, despite had just been thrown around by the nogitsune. He was back in no time, ready to do what he had to in order to protect Stiles.
Stiles
But also, if Noah and Derek stand by Stiles' side and protected him, Stiles also did the same for them.
When Chris asked him if he had to lock up Scott he said yes, and argued with the hunter if it was better to burn his house down. He was protesting with Arget about the cruelty his family did and how there were other ways of handling things. He stood by Derek's side.
He killed Donovan to protect his dad.
He never stopped searching for his father when Jennifer took him to use him as a sacrifice.
When Boys died, Stiles was the only one that tried to comfort Derek, putting a hand on his shoulder, as to ground him and say "you're not alone".
(Even if not intentionally) when Derek was "trapped" in his sleep, Stiles was the one he imagined to wake himself up, asking him how to know if he was still asleep.
In the end I believe these three always had each other's back covered somehow. They always protected one of the other two and never betrayed each other's trust.
They were both there for Stiles when he was in a bad shape, wheter it be physically or mentally, they showed up or welcomed him in, taking care of him.
Derek and Noah were always there for Stiles whenever they could. They cared, maybe even more than most.
I'm not saying other characters didn't cared about Stiles, I just took this two into consideration cause I like them.
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finniestoncrane · 2 days
Text
It's Easy!
Lucy Maclean x Maximus, word count: 1.4k i have never related to a characters straightforward desire to fuck more than lucy maclean, you're my hero girl, keep trying to get your hole at every given moment, even if you have to take it upon yourself to uh... teach your partner how to treat you right... based on that scene from episode 6 which is where most of the dialogue from the intro comes from!! 💛💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: inexperienced/experienced, guiding, instructional, premature ejaculation, handjob, goofy losers getting it on my beloved
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The harsh lighting was slowly giving Maximus a headache. Lucy, however, seemed to thrive under it. She was used to it, obviously, but he still marvelled at the way she seemed to soak it up, smiling under it's cool, white glow. An infectious smile, one that made her large, brown eyes sparkle like slightly irradiated water. One that pressed into her cheeks, pushing them up and out. One that made him smile back for reasons he wasn't quite sure of.
In fact, there were a lot of things about Lucy that made him smile, and as he ran through the list in his head, he found he had started saying one out loud before he could stop himself.
"You smell good."
There it was. Out in the open. No taking it back, so instead, he kept his eyes trained on the ground, acting as nonchalant as he could.
"Oh?"
With an immediate understanding, Lucy took a relaxed breath inwards before casually proposing an activity to pass the time away during their quarantine.
"Do you wanna have sex?"
That smile again, beaming over at him. With a surprised stutter, Maximus managed to respond.
"Y-you mean use my cock?"
Widening her eyes before looking from side to side, Lucy nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah!"
"I dont know... that weird thing could happen."
Maximus' nervous laugh preceded the statement that had intrigued Lucy to no end.
"What on Earth could he be talking about...? Has something else strange happened up here since... everything?"
Lowering one eyebrow and raising the other, she probed him for an answer.
"What weird thing?"
"Well, it's just... for some guys, and not me,obviously, but, uh... for some guys, you know... when they make it move..."
He gestured to his crotch with his hands, a quick but dramatic glance down to it for emphasis so there was no mistaking what he was talking about.
"... it gets all big an hard like a big pimple and then it pops. And they say it can happen to anybody, but it's still... it's... it's gross."
A knowing smile settled on Lucy's lips, her face blushing at Maximus' misunderstanding, the endearing naiavety he was displaying.
"You know, that's actually completely normal. It happens all the time. Every time, ideally."
With a grimace of disgust, Maximus felt his body moving backwards, as if he were trying to distance himself between himself and the notion that someone would want their cock to pop like that.
"Well, either way... I'm a Knight. Of the Brotherhood. We're... we're not really supposed to-"
"Okey dokey!"
Lucy interrupted him with a shrug and a polite grin, trying to save him from the awkward rejection he was trying to stumble through. But as she began to recline on her gurney on the other side of the small room, she stopped, leaning back on her elbows to listen to Maximus' rushed mumblings.
"Uh... but! B-but I... want to. Maybe? I just... don't know how..."
"Oh! If that's the problem, don't worry. It's easy! I can show you if you want? Teach you the basics at least."
He was a Knight. Well, no he wasn't. Not technically. But as far as Lucy knew... And as a Knight, he could stand to take matters into his own hands for once.
"I... I'd like that."
"Okey dokey, then! Let's do this!"
On that positive, overly optimistic note, Lucy stood up from her gurney and sat down next to Maximus on his. Her hand shifted tentatively to the side, pinky grazing against Maximus warm skin. He didn't respond in kind, instead stiffening up and staying completely still. So Lucy was once again the one to break the tension.
"We can try just kissing first if you'd like? Start off slow, get the basics down."
"Sure."
"Have you ever kissed someone?"
"No... have you?"
Lucy paused for a moment, considering everything she had done so far in life, everything she might do, and everything that had gone on between the first bombs dropped and now. The rules were different above and below ground, and she didn't want to risk offering any information about certain cousins that might make seem strange to someone like Maximus.
Aware that she had been staring wide-eyed into space for longer than necessary, she quickly turned to him.
"Yes, a couple. No one you would know."
His eyes narrowed in response, nose wrinkling up, mouth dropping open in a confused expression as he nodded in obvious agreement. And to prevent him from asking any questions, Lucy leaned into his parted lips and placed her own on them. A tender meeting of their bodies, far beyond polite handshakes, different from the way they had been clinging to each other in weaker moments.
Responding to the beat that his heart skipped and the way his body suddenly flushed with heat, Maximus raised his hand to Lucy's cheek, pulling back quickly with an apology and breaing off their first kiss. His first kiss.
"Oh, that's ok! You're kind of supposed to let nature take its course with this kind of thing. Deep down we all know how it should go... it's in our biology!"
He shrugged, averting his eyes once more, embarrassed to admit it, but confessing anyway.
"I'm still kinda scared... of the... pop."
Ever the dutiful problem solver, Lucy stopped for a moment, humming over potential solutions before beaming bright and excited when she thought she had the perfect one.
"Oh! I can show you what it's like. I'll take charge, and then you'll see it's ok. How does that sound?"
He nodded, slow and stuttered, all of the built up excitement hidden behind the shocked expression he wore. She was so forthcoming, so helpful, and the idea of her touching him did make him feel good. Different, but good. And that feeling was only amplified as Lucy started dragging down the zip at the front of his jumpsuit and dipping her hand beneath the fabric.
Her skin was soft, her palm warm as it glided past his stomach and down to the tuft of unruly black hair above his cock. And then she was touching it. Unafraid, bold and confident in the way she let her fingers trail along the length before settling the flat of her hand against him, semi-erect already and throbbing under her.
Smiling, smug with her effect on him, Lucy could feel his cock stiffening as she wrapped her fingers around it, beginning to stroke the length. As her hand moved up and down, Maximus noticed the way his length, and his whole body in fact, twitched when she reached the bottom and again when she neared his head.
"It's... it's happening isn't it?"
"Yep! But it's ok... totally normal... completely normal... very nice..."
He shifted, not uncomfortably, but awkwardly, as he took in the compliment.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Lucy was smiling at him, eyes glinting with something he hadn't really noticed before as she asked the question.
"It... it does..."
"Maybe we can go a bit further then? Give me your hand..."
She took his wrist, steadying his shaking limb, and placed his palm against her breast over the top of her suit. He let his fingers sink in a little, squeezing the soft mound and breathing in deep, shaking breaths. it felt comforting, but it made that coil in his stomach tighten as he felt her chest heaving against him.
"Now... if you think this my hand feels nice, imagine how good it would feel to have it inside my- oh!"
The words weren't particularly sexy, at least not in the cheerful, matter of fact way that Lucy spoke them, but it was enough to send Maximus over the edge. His cock twitched, that threatened moving, swelling, throbbing, his veins pulsing, and then the pop. His orgasm came fast and hard, cum spilling in warm, white ropes over Lucy's hand.
Immediate embarrassment came over him as he tried to clean it up, recoiling at the sticky texture of the liquid that had come from him. But as he looked into Lucy's eyes to show the sincerity of the 'sorry' that he repeated, he saw that she was still smiling. Ever cheerful. A sense of satisfaction about a job well done.
"Good, huh? Next time you'll be able to last a bit longer, I think!"
As Lucy made her way back to her own gurney to lay down, Maximus muttered to himself.
"Next... next time?"
And now he began to smirk. Self-satisfied. Relaxed. Excited for this next time.
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Could I request Fukuzawa's (Bungou Stray Dogs) daughter getting annoyed by sons of wealthy families everywhere she goes but is always saved by her ability (to control a flock of birds) or her father?
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It was a fairly nice day out, now that the weather was starting to turn. Coming out of the cold gloom of winter and into the bright, but still brisk, light of spring.
“Shouldn’t we head back to the office?” Atsushi asked as he and his partner walked around the city streets. Working on a new case but their ‘investigation’ had ended some time ago. Not long after their second coffee stop.
“Ahhh….what’s the rush? Enjoy the fresh air Atsushi-kun.” Dazai remarked back. Filling his lungs as he spoke.
“I just feel bad leaving everyone else back at the office.” Leaving everyone to work that is. “Hey, is that Fukuzawa-san?”
“Well, what do you know. It is. Boss!” The older man turned to look at Dazai at his call. Greeting his subordinates as they came closer. “What are you doing out here?”
“I’m waiting to have lunch with my daughter.”
Atsushi was surprised. Daughter? “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is in town?” Apparently, everyone knew the boss had a daughter but him.
Fukuzawa-san goes on to tell Atsushi that she was studying at university aboard, which was why he had never met her. There seemed to be a concerned look on his face when they talked about her being back in town, which was understandable with everything going on. Or maybe it was just his normal, serious expression.
The men continue to chat for a while before Fukuzawa-san perked up and looked over across the courtyard. As if sensing his daughter’s presence the moment she stepped into the park.
Atsushi had to admit, she was very beautiful. She didn’t look much like Fukuzawa-san, so he had to assume that she took after her mother. [Y/N] hadn’t seem to notice them yet as she walked across the park, presumably to this destination agreed upon by her & her father, when a man stepped in front of her path. He was talking to her rather animatedly and when she tried to step around him, he blocked her path again.
“Should we go and do something?” Atsushi asked. Concerned for her safety.
“No. She doesn’t need help.” Fukuzawa-san assured him.
“Yeah,” Dazai agrees. “She’s got enough back up as it is.”
Atsushi was confused by that comment. Then, suddenly, a crow came down out of nowhere and beamed the man. Clipping him in the back of the head like it was nothing. It was an odd coincidence, but then another bird came down and started pecking him. Then another. Then another.
Eventually the man had to take off running to try and escape the birds. Who chased after him regardless of his pace and [Y/N] kept walking. “Hello Daddy.”
“Hello princess.” Fukuzawa-san greeted back. Leaning in to kiss her forehead before he stood at his normal height again.
“What was with those birds?” Atsushi asked, and [Y/N] grinned at him.
“To Kill a Mockingbird.” She told him. “It’s my ability to control & communicate with birds. Not as interesting as being able to turn into a tiger, but it suits me.”
“You know about my ability?” Atsushi asked curiously.
To which [Y/N] chuckled. “Of course. Dad keeps me up to date on everything to do with the Agency. You and Dazai are often topics of conversation.”
“Glowing reviews I hope?”
“More like headaches.” She replied to Dazai’s comment.
“Are you ready to go?” Fukuzawa asked. Changing the topic.
“That depends. Are Dazai and Atsushi joining us?”
“They won’t be joining us.” Fukuzawa-san replied quickly, before the boys could invite themselves along. He didn’t get much time with his daughter and wanted to spend time with her alone. “I’ll see you two back at the Agency.”
“Roger that sir.” Dazai remarked. Giving a little salute. “Maybe [Y/N]-chan can come by after your lunch and say hi to the others. I’m sure Kunikida-kun would be devastated if he missed you.”
[Y/N] glared at Dazai behind her father’s shoulder. A warning look in her eyes as he gave her a cheeky smile. “Would you have time for that, or do you need to meet up with friends?”
“I think I can make time for that.” [Y/N] replied, back to her sweet smile in the face of her father, before they link arms and head to lunch.
Just as they were out of ear shot, another bird came down and started pecking violently at Dazai. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ok! Ok! It was just a joke! Knock it off [Y/N]-chan! Ow!”
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whiskeyswifty · 12 hours
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i think clara bow is my favorite right now. god it's so good, its so smart and so beautifully produced. it SOUNDS fatalist, like it's the lyrics yes but how it's just her voice and a guitar at the beginning, how her start began. the violins coming in and the way it builds and builds it's sound like her career built over time and how she gets closer and closer to making it, bigger and bigger as a star. and then when she's at the top, she has it all, finally what she wanted, the instrumental falls away as it's quiet at the top, lonely but peaceful because she did it. she can rest now, right? well, then she says "thems the breaks they don't come gently" to transition as on the horizon she sees the new her, just starting out and shiny and new. her tower has already begun to crack and crumble. Finally, the song ends with the same instrumental that it started with, that guitar strums up again just as hers did once, as a new girl, the new her, begins her rise. the one who will take her place has already been born.
it's so poignant to hear her depict it this way, so matter of factly and without any pain or any vindictiveness. having broached this topic before many times before, she's feared it for so long. how her star will one day wane and it won't be her fault. It's just the way of things. but this is a glimpse into how she really feels about it now that its finally happening. what it feels like to see her destroyer in her infancy, knowing who she will grow to be. and what is she to do? smother the infant in it's sleep? another will come, and another and another. the song feels mournful but with resignation that she was once that person to usurp own heroes, and those who idolize her will tear her statue down one day to erect their own in it's place, and that's the way of things. should she prepare this girl, or warn this girl? should she tell her everything that is to come? the song really just takes more of a stance of remove like she'll learn, but she will learn when she faces it, and that's the only way to understand it. growing older and losing that sparkle and shine, which she was still chasing for a while but perhaps has realized there's no use. in all the iterations of this confrontation with her fate before, she's beat back against it, wallowed in deep sadness over it in Nothing New, how she white knuckle held onto it in YOYOK because she's different and special, and even how she quite naively assures her predecessor that she understands, or she thinks she does, but she will not give it away so easily, because not now, not yet, maybe the ones who came before her gave it up so easily but not her, she won't, not ever. but here, it's not a "they WILL say" or a "one day", she says "You look like Taylor Swift" presently, now. she's looking her destroyer in the face. or someone is saying it to her destroyer now. Her statement of it feels like a concession and maybe a recognition, finally, without the anger and without the desperation to hold on. a nod maybe from across the room. as if to say "yes, it's you, it'll be you, if you do it right. I know because you are like me, and I was like the one who came before who were like the one who came before, and on and on it went and on and on it will go. i would say congrats, but one day you'll understand why that isn't quite fitting and why i'm not putting up as much of a fight anymore. and i know now it's not mine to give, but it is yours to take." because maybe it's because she see's with a bit more clarity, finally, that her predecessors might not have left it all behind, bowed out, because they wanted to. perhaps they all felt like her, they were all just like her, never wanting to let go. while the first parts of the song feel like what's happening to her is so singular, what are the odds! perhaps she's never been that special in the grand scheme of things, each of them always like someone else that came before her and there will always be someone like them to come. they all only ever left it because they had to, the writing was on the wall, and they knew that the only choice they had was whether or not they'd bow out gracefully. Retain a piece of dignity and take their place among the stars to shine down on the next pretty, sparkly thing.
And i love it as a closing track because it while her romantic life may be in turmoil, while she may have lost herself completely as her life imploded, this is one thing she found surprising clarity about. this has been the way of things for a century plus. she can wave away all that frivolity and finally have a real conversation with herself about something real and true, something only time could tell her. admit to herself that the new sparkle, that dazzle, I'm not chasing it anymore, it's futile and i don't need it as much as i used to. and anyway my destroyer is already here. but when she finally arrives that fateful day to break down my door, i'll be sure to leave it unlocked for her.
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My Buddie Theory:
So, I think from this point on that Buck is gonna be with Tommy and figure more out about himself, how to actually be with a man etc, Eddie will start becoming jealous, but have no idea why, when he hangs out with BuckTommy and seeing them be all ‘close’ seeing Buck being happy and touching/kissing another man he’ll be jealous and confused.
Eddie will continue down his catholic guilt route, we’ll see his relationship with Marisol fail and he’ll struggle to understand why he can’t hold a relationship or do what he thinks is right whilst being jealous of Tommy. I think that he knows he loves Buck just not that he is gay.
I think Tommy knows deep down there is something between Eddie and Buck and at some point will tell Buck that he doesn’t think they’ll work out for said reason and remain friends.
I think Eddie will have a realisation of “omg, I’m jealous of my best friends boyfriend” or will realise what he’s always wanted he has with Buck but he’ll realise and not say anything (especially if Buck seems really happy) like I said because I think he knew he loves him anyway but not the full extent of it. Buck will struggle when he realises and badly, he’ll think it’s unrequired because to him Eddie is straight and he doesn’t wanna lose two of the most important people in his life, his abandonment issues, I feel Buck will be the one to fight for it because I think Eddie will deal with the realisation slightly better than Buck will. Oliver said that the person Buck ends up with he’ll have to fight the hardest for and I think it’ll come down to Buck realising that he’s a bisexual man who knows his worth, can be loved and overcome his abandonment issues because…it’s Eddie and he would never abandon him no matter what, and Eddie will realise he needs to stop making other people happy and do what he wants with his life and not what others want and that’s the family he’s build with Chris and Buck. But they both end up realising what they have and always have had and how special it is whilst acknowledging that no matter what happens to them they love eachother so much that they’ll still be Best Friends first and foremost.
That would to me be the greatest gay love story ever told on a modern TV show. Well developed characters/relationship with years of history, seperate sexuality arcs, 2 fathers and a child family, bestfriends to lovers arc and if they keep hold of EVERYTHING, past references throughout the show and making connections with them no matter how big or small then WOW I will applaude them!
Oh great theory anon. I love it.
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