#ignorant or foolish-but i want to keep posting what i can not to distract us from the chaos

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

The Birthday Song: a Malevolent Fanfic

Very much post-canon.

Very much fluff.

John has a body.

Arthur has his sight.

They've figured it out, working in Arkham, making their way through life, and John, at last, has chosen his birthday.

It's all fluff from here, folks.

AO3

--------

John grins. “There’s your song on the radio again!”

“I know, I know. So, we’ve decided on June third. You’re certain? You’re not going to change your mind this time?”

“Damn it, Arthur, that’s what I said. Are you listening? It’s your song.”

“I know it’s my song. Calm the fuck down. I just needed to know how much time I had.”

“What? For what?” John looms, having never understood personal space nor seen the reason to try, and casts shadow over Arthur’s paperwork and pencil marks.

Arthur glares up at him. “Never you mind. Don’t you have a case to solve?”

John scowls thunderously, then goes back to his research, muttering about arrogant humans and dire consequences and foolish schemes.

He leaves the radio on.

Arthur snorts at him and ignores it all.

#

The radio has played four of Arthur’s songs today, and John is very proud.

He has no one to boast to. That’s the downside. These lonely stakeouts make him want to cast a kitten, sometimes, but he holds it together. It would all be worth it when—

The perp finally leaves the house in question.

John remembers the rules this time and snaps some photos before following. Stupid coppers, not taking his word as law. They didn’t know who he was, sure, but when you had to get PROOF for everything, it was hard not to feel disrespected.

John chases the guy down.

Then John reveals more of himself than intended when the guy tries to shoot him, and John’s manifesting slips, and then the guy screams about pointed teeth and yellow eyes and who cares what the fuck else until John knocks him out.

The coppers don’t buy any of the guy’s story about John being a demon.

They do take the film, and the proof of the disgusting kidnapping-for-ransom scheme, and they are grateful.

John goes home proud.

He finds Arthur asleep sprawled across music sheets, pencil still in his loose fingers, and John drapes his coat jacket over Arthur’s back (they both realized John’s scent does something to calm Arthur’s dreams, and neither of them knows how to address it), then makes his own way to bed.

#

“I’ll be back tonight, I swear,” mutters John, who’s really not happy about traveling to Boston right now, but the kidnapping case requires him to testify in court.

“You're sure you've got this?” Arthur says for the billionth time.

“Arthur.” John puts his hands on Arthur’s shoulders (and he and Arthur both ignore how huge they are and how hot they are, how strong they are and how the nails, unseen, dimple into Arthur’s back). “I said I’d be back. I said I could handle this. You’ve got a deadline. Shut up and write.”

Arthur makes that face. The one John could just…

Do something to knock it off him. He’s not sure what.

There are, he considers, a lot of things they don’t discuss.

Well, whatever. There’d be time for that when he returns. “Keep the wagons circled,” John advises with grave solemnity because he’d heard it in a radio drama and liked it a lot.

For no reason John can understand, Arthur laughs at him the whole way out the door, and it leaves him in a tetchy mood.

#

So, Boston is crazy!

So, it has cultists who know who he is and knew he was coming, and they fucking picket outside the courthouse with signs like FREE HIM FROM HIS MORTAL COIL and damn near ruin the whole damn day!

(And oh yes John caught a glimpse of Kayne laughing his ass off while the cops tried to calm this down, and oh yes John has every certainty just how these wackos knew where he was and who he used to be, but the case comes first, and he goes to the stand and gives his fucking testimony, and knows he’ll make Arthur proud.)

And it all goes well, though the jury is distracted, and the outside chanting makes its way in (YELLOW IS GOD! YELLOW IS GOD!), and only toward the very end does the Judge turn to him and—as if not really expecting an answer—say, “Doe… what in God’s name is going on out there?”

And maybe it was the irony of god’s name (because that’s what they were using) or maybe he was just tired, but John forgets the rules Arthur drilled into him, and says, “Fuck if I know.”

The judge stares.

John remembers to add, “Your honor.”

Your honor does not, in fact, resurrect the situation.

At least this particular “in contempt of court” charge only lands him in jail for one night.

#

John’s in a terrible mood the next morning.

His cellmate had been some kind of drunk who pissed all over the wall. Kayne kept appearing in the barred window to throw peanuts at him and laugh. They didn’t even tell him until the next day that the jury was unanimous in conviction, that John’s case won, that (the copper whispers in secret) nobody really found him offensive, but he had to spend the night in a piss-filled cell, and you know how it is.

He does not know how it is. Humans don't know how it is, he's certain, because they're utterly insane.

Whatever. Then there’s a train ride, and people making faces because he smells like pee, and a sour and miserable mood that just ruins everything even though this really was a happy ending.

It doesn't feel like a happy ending.

John likes having a body. He loves being a P.I. (though he often wishes he doesn’t have to do it alone). He does not like body odor, or rumpled clothes, or the weird itchiness of a face unshaven, though, and he's got all those things right now.

At least Kayne leaves him alone once he’s out of Boston proper.

John is feeling foul in more ways than one when he storms back into their home.

Arthur is waiting for him.

Arthur, waiting with a smile.

Arthur, holding a cake—decorated with bright yellow flowers, and made tall with bright yellow candles, lit with bright yellow flame that Arthur must have struck while John was storming up the drive.

And then, Arthur begins to sing.

Happy birthday to my friend! He is faithful to the end— Though he’s got thick sausage hands, And a back that just won’t bend.

He is my most favorite bird, In this land or worlds unheard. Happy birthday to my friend— May our time here neeeeeveeeeer eeeeeend!

“Happy birthday!” Arthur proclaims, and holds up the cake.

There is a moment of precipitous silence.

John sniffles.

Arthur goes really still. “John?”

He sniffles again. “You remembered?”

“I planned this out, you wacko,” says Arthur. “It’s a lemon cake. Just like you like it. Now come on, they baked it today.”

John sniffles again.

Arthur wrote a song for him, all for him.

And it was stupid and silly and absolutely absurd and no one would ever hear it on the radio if he had any say, but…

Arthur wrote a song for him.

“Thank you,” John manages, his basso profundo wobbly and unsure.

“Yeah, uh,” says Arthur, who is red as a beat, and holds up two small plates and a knife. “So. You want a bite?”

“I really do,” says John, meaning more than he knows he means, meaning nothing and everything and all the rest of their human lives. “I really, really do.”

-----

Notes:

I have no excuse for this. Blame the Invictus Discord server. (My fellow 8-ball patrons, if you know, you know.)

Why is Arthur not a P.I. right now? He will be again, but… he needs a little bit of time to find himself again. That's okay. By the time he rejoins, John will be a pro.

Anyway, here is the tune for Arthur's birthday song, and yes, you're right - I have no shame.

Sorry about your teeth.

#malevolent #malevolent fic #fluff #fluff writing #feel good tag #john doe malevolent #arthur lester #arthur malevolent #john malevolent #this is fluff #SO MUCH FLUFF #malevolent fanfic

[once-upon-a-reblog]

In honor of John Doe's birthday: The BIRTHDAY SONG

Very much post-canon.

Very much fluff.

John has a body.

Arthur has his sight.

They've figured it out, working in Arkham, making their way through life, and John, at last, has chosen his birthday.

It's all fluff from here, folks.

AO3

--------

John grins. “There’s your song on the radio again!”

“I know, I know. So, we’ve decided on June third. You’re certain? You’re not going to change your mind this time?”

“Damn it, Arthur, that’s what I said. Are you listening? It’s your song.”

“I know it’s my song. Calm the fuck down. I just needed to know how much time I had.”

“What? For what?” John looms, having never understood personal space nor seen the reason to try, and casts shadow over Arthur’s paperwork and pencil marks.

Arthur glares up at him. “Never you mind. Don’t you have a case to solve?”

John scowls thunderously, then goes back to his research, muttering about arrogant humans and dire consequences and foolish schemes.

He leaves the radio on.

Arthur snorts at him and ignores it all.

#

Keep reading

The radio has played four of Arthur’s songs today, and John is very proud.

He has no one to boast to. That’s the downside. These lonely stakeouts make him want to cast a kitten, sometimes, but he holds it together. It would all be worth it when—

The perp finally leaves the house in question.

John remembers the rules this time and snaps some photos before following. Stupid coppers, not taking his word as law. They didn’t know who he was, sure, but when you had to get PROOF for everything, it was hard not to feel disrespected.

John chases the guy down.

Then John reveals more of himself than intended when the guy tries to shoot him, and John’s manifesting slips, and then the guy screams about pointed teeth and yellow eyes and who cares what the fuck else until John knocks him out.

The coppers don’t buy any of the guy’s story about John being a demon.

They do take the film, and the proof of the disgusting kidnapping-for-ransom scheme, and they are grateful.

John goes home proud.

He finds Arthur asleep sprawled across music sheets, pencil still in his loose fingers, and John drapes his coat jacket over Arthur’s back (they both realized John’s scent does something to calm Arthur’s dreams, and neither of them knows how to address it), then makes his own way to bed.

#

“I’ll be back tonight, I swear,” mutters John, who’s really not happy about traveling to Boston right now, but the kidnapping case requires him to testify in court.

“You're sure you've got this?” Arthur says for the billionth time.

“Arthur.” John puts his hands on Arthur’s shoulders (and he and Arthur both ignore how huge they are and how hot they are, how strong they are and how the nails, unseen, dimple into Arthur’s back). “I said I’d be back. I said I could handle this. You’ve got a deadline. Shut up and write.”

Arthur makes that face. The one John could just…

Do something to knock it off him. He’s not sure what.

There are, he considers, a lot of things they don’t discuss.

Well, whatever. There’d be time for that when he returns. “Keep the wagons circled,” John advises with grave solemnity because he’d heard it in a radio drama and liked it a lot.

For no reason John can understand, Arthur laughs at him the whole way out the door, and it leaves him in a tetchy mood.

#

So, Boston is crazy!

So, it has cultists who know who he is and knew he was coming, and they fucking picket outside the courthouse with signs like FREE HIM FROM HIS MORTAL COIL and damn near ruin the whole damn day!

(And oh yes John caught a glimpse of Kayne laughing his ass off while the cops tried to calm this down, and oh yes John has every certainty just how these wackos knew where he was and who he used to be, but the case comes first, and he goes to the stand and gives his fucking testimony, and knows he’ll make Arthur proud.)

And it all goes well, though the jury is distracted, and the outside chanting makes its way in (YELLOW IS GOD! YELLOW IS GOD!), and only toward the very end does the Judge turn to him and—as if not really expecting an answer—say, “Doe… what in God’s name is going on out there?”

And maybe it was the irony of god’s name (because that’s what they were using) or maybe he was just tired, but John forgets the rules Arthur drilled into him, and says, “Fuck if I know.”

The judge stares.

John remembers to add, “Your honor.”

Your honor does not, in fact, resurrect the situation.

At least this particular “in contempt of court” charge only lands him in jail for one night.

#

John’s in a terrible mood the next morning.

His cellmate had been some kind of drunk who pissed all over the wall. Kayne kept appearing in the barred window to throw peanuts at him and laugh. They didn’t even tell him until the next day that the jury was unanimous in conviction, that John’s case won, that (the copper whispers in secret) nobody really found him offensive, but he had to spend the night in a piss-filled cell, and you know how it is.

He does not know how it is. Humans don't know how it is, he's certain, because they're utterly insane.

Whatever. Then there’s a train ride, and people making faces because he smells like pee, and a sour and miserable mood that just ruins everything even though this really was a happy ending.

It doesn't feel like a happy ending.

John likes having a body. He loves being a P.I. (though he often wishes he doesn’t have to do it alone). He does not like body odor, or rumpled clothes, or the weird itchiness of a face unshaven, though, and he's got all those things right now.

At least Kayne leaves him alone once he’s out of Boston proper.

John is feeling foul in more ways than one when he storms back into their home.

Arthur is waiting for him.

Arthur, waiting with a smile.

Arthur, holding a cake—decorated with bright yellow flowers, and made tall with bright yellow candles, lit with bright yellow flame that Arthur must have struck while John was storming up the drive.

And then, Arthur begins to sing.

Happy birthday to my friend! He is faithful to the end— Though he’s got thick sausage hands, And a back that just won’t bend.

He is my most favorite bird, In this land or worlds unheard. Happy birthday to my friend— May our time here neeeeeveeeeer eeeeeend!

“Happy birthday!” Arthur proclaims, and holds up the cake.

There is a moment of precipitous silence.

John sniffles.

Arthur goes really still. “John?”

He sniffles again. “You remembered?”

“I planned this out, you wacko,” says Arthur. “It’s a lemon cake. Just like you like it. Now come on, they baked it today.”

John sniffles again.

Arthur wrote a song for him, all for him.

And it was stupid and silly and absolutely absurd and no one would ever hear it on the radio if he had any say, but…

Arthur wrote a song for him.

“Thank you,” John manages, his basso profundo wobbly and unsure.

“Yeah, uh,” says Arthur, who is red as a beat, and holds up two small plates and a knife. “So. You want a bite?”

“I really do,” says John, meaning more than he knows he means, meaning nothing and everything and all the rest of their human lives. “I really, really do.”

-----

Notes:

I have no excuse for this. Blame the Invictus Discord server. (My fellow 8-ball patrons, if you know, you know.)

Why is Arthur not a P.I. right now? He will be again, but… he needs a little bit of time to find himself again. That's okay. By the time he rejoins, John will be a pro.

Anyway, here is the tune for Arthur's birthday song, and yes, you're right - I have no shame.

Sorry about your teeth

#malevolent #john malevolent #malevolent john #john doe malevolent #malevolent john doe #john doe #malevolent pod

[prinsomnia]

have some flowers for these trying times

#illustration #plants #aesthetic #spring #stars #botanical #flowers #art ph #digital art #magic #portfolio #nasturtium #almond blossom #jasmine #art fart #prinsomnia #hey everyone! i hope that these little arts give you some comfort and hope in these scary times #i've been making a lot of art-but posting them at times like these feels wrong and im afraid that someone might point me out as someone #ignorant or foolish-but i want to keep posting what i can not to distract us from the chaos #but to give hope. #and i hope that these are a good starter for that aim #i hope you guys are keeping safe and healthy <3 we can get through this! i believe in us!

[yesimwriting]

To Be Alone

VAGUE SPOILER WARNING FOR SHADOW AND BONE BOOK SERIES-- I try hard not to mention why the Darkling/General Kirigan is the bad guy so that I don’t spoil anything,, but the reader finds out that he lies about his identity and that he’s super sketchy/not a good guy (again,, I avoided as many specifics as possible to keep it from being spoiler-y)

Warnings: lowkey manipulation, kissing/makeout, slight fingering

A/n y’all drove me to this lol,, pls be nice!! This is the closest to full on smut I’ve ever written!! Ahh I’m lowkey scared to post

Summary: the reader finds out something about the Darkling/General Kirigan, he finds a way to convince her to stay 

--

No amount of evidence will ever be enough to convince me fully. A part of me will always hold onto unjustifiable doubt because a part of me hopes that if I hold onto the lies tight enough they’ll turn into the truth. But that’s not how the world works. 

General Kirigan. Ravka put its faith in him. I put my faith in him. I did more than that. I pushed aside my reservations and doubt in order to try and comfort him when he spoke of loneliness. Was all that a lie as well? 

No. I can’t afford to think of the emotional side of it all, because if I do I may find myself incapable of moving from this spot. I don’t have time to reflect on it all, to try and unravel hopeful lies and manipulative truths. That can be done when I’m not here. If I stay here, he’ll know I know and he’ll stop me from...what? What am I supposed to do next? I could find someone with some level of power to warn. 

“There you are.” Kirigan. I’m turned towards the window, not facing him, but there is no weariness or malice in his voice. He has no reason to suspect my suspicion. “Are you unwell?” 

Calm. I need to pass as calm. Not turning, I force myself to ignore the endearing hint of concern in his voice. “No.” I can hear his measured footsteps. “Why would you think that?” 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he’s directly behind me now. If I turn, I’ll practically be against his chest. “And you didn’t come see me last night.” 

Oh. I knew it was a mistake to begin to pull on such a small thread so close to when he expected to see me, but it kept gnawing on me. That doubt. That tiny thing I couldn’t ever let go off. “I fell asleep.” No--I cringe at my impulsive response. He knows how difficult it is for me to fall asleep. “Yesterday was just really...draining.” 

In an easy movement, he places his hand on my shoulder. It’s a silent request for me to turn. Exhaling, I obey. Why? I could lie to myself and say that I’m listening to him in order to kill his suspicions, but the effect he has on me is undeniable. Even before touching each other became a casual thing on his part, my body wanted to react to him. 

He’s quick to cup my face, tilting my chin up slightly so that I can’t avoid his gaze. “What troubles you, little dove?” A nickname for when he’s feeling particularly gentle. Thoughts of the evil he has to be twist my stomach as my face flushes. Kirigan’s thumb brushes over the corner of my bottom lip, stalling as I fight the urge to melt into the contact. I meet his tense gaze cautiously. “You said nothing could make you look at me differently.” No. There’s no way he figured out my change with one look alone. I’ll deny it. I’ll do what I need to do to be convincing, and then I’ll manage to escape. His grip on my shoulder tightens. “Don’t you dare lie to me again.” 

The urge to snap and point out the sick irony of him telling me not to lie at him almost forces me to break. His gaze starts to shift away from me--towards the half packed escape bag I’d been in the middle of constructing. I stretch my arms forward, desperate to keep his gaze on me and away from what I can’t explain. 

Kirigan’s free hand moves to pull my hand off of his cheek, but he pauses, eyes shutting in peaceful contentment. “What do you know?” 

I expected his words to be angry, to border on violent...but he just sounds tired. Please, Saints, let me be wrong. “Is there anything to know?” The only reaction I get is the slightest stall of his breathing. “You said you didn’t want to be alone anymo--” 

“I don’t.” The harshness of his words almost coax a small flinch from me. 

Swallowing back the knot in my stomach, I exhale slowly. “A part of not being alone is being honest.” 

His eyes finally open. I don’t dare move as he moves my hand off of his cheek so that he can brush his lips against my knuckles. I suppress an embarrassing shudder. “You wouldn’t have stayed--if you knew you wouldn’t ha--” 

No denial. I can’t--I can’t do this. “You know what the worst part is?” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I can’t believe it’s true. “I might have.” Those words break something in me as I force myself away from him. The lack of contact leaves me more frozen than ever. “I might have! I might have been able to bear all the monstrous things you’ve done if you had just--” 

“What?!” He meets my outburst with one of equal power. “You might have stayed regardless?” The way he scoffs leaves me feeling like a wandering child. “You might have still looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky instead of like I’m the darkness they fight against?” I stay silent as he steps forward, quick to hold my chin in place with his long fingers. “I couldn’t risk you on possibility.” Kirigan’s gaze is so intense, a part of me is surprised that shadows don’t come at me--drowning me in darkness and him. “And don’t think me foolish enough to believe that someone like you would understand that I have to do what I’m doing--” 

“Have to?” No--how did I almost let him lure me back in so easily. I pull myself away, approaching my open wardrobe. “That’s not past tense.” He’s still--he’s still actively hurting people. Why had I been so stupidly naive to think that maybe this was all history? “I--I can’t do this.” 

Each step towards the exit of the room chips away at a piece of my soul. “You’re not walking away from me,” his strong grip is on my arm in a sharp instinct, “I won’t--I can’t be alone again.” 

I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “You already are.” 

His eyes are pleading, pools of frightened adoration. “No--no,” he steps towards me, not releasing his grip on my arm, “You’re hurt that I lied, but now I’ll never have to lie to you again.” I push against his grip. Kirigan doesn’t release me. “Y/n,” my name is a lament from his lips, “Please.” 

My eyes round out as my heart leaps into my chest. “I used to think that you were only touched by the darkness, but now I’m not sure you can tell where the darkness ends and you begin.” His grip just barely falters. Maybe it’s acceptance. 

I shift weakly, a softer attempt to escape. His grip tightens even more than before as he tugs me forward. The reminder of his physical strength leaves me frozen in shock. I can’t read his expression, but something about him has darkened. When I don’t pull away again, his thumb brushes up and down my forearm. The silkiness of his touch is warm temptation. I inhale slowly as he moves his other arm in order to touch my shoulder. The contact is almost shy. 

“Kirigan,” my voice betrays me, breaking as his fingers trace down my collar, “What--what are you doing?” 

He tilts his head, taking in the way his touch rids my body of fight. “Nothing, really.” His voice is low, supple in its assuredness. “You’re the only person who has ever seen me--and for you to leave me after that.” 

“No,” I try to step back, but my body freezes as he toys with the collar of my dress, “What I saw--what I found out--that wasn’t you.” 

“It’s who I have to make myself be,” he whispers, “I’m doing what needs to be done.” 

“That logic can earn you a lot,” my words are careful, “But it cannot earn you me.” 

His hand brushes past my neck, finding the root of my hair. Kirigan pulls on it slightly, forcing me to expose my lower jaw and neck. I’m still as he leans forward, warm breath fanning across my skin. I fight against a shiver in vain as his lips brush down my skin, only stopping as he nips the base of my neck. I can’t help the small sound of surprise that escapes me. 

“Are you sure about that?” Blood rushes to my face, motivated by both embarrassment and something else. “Little dove, don’t ruin us.” His touch is warm, but his words leave me with an uncomfortable chill. In an attempt to escape the coldness, I half-press myself into the trail of soft and desperate kisses he’s leaving down my neck.

Kirigan pauses, exhaling slowly, and I feel some mental strength return to me. “There can’t be an us--not like this.” 

“Y/n.” He never uses my name. “You are the only light I know.” His words steal something from me as he pulls away enough to look me in the eyes. “I can’t handle the weight of solitude anymore--it’s worse than the dark.”

 I am unflinching, watching him with a markman’s care. Kirigan takes my silence as a positive. I don’t move as his gaze drops to my lips before he presses his own together. I don’t move as he destroys the distance between us like it’s some type of unbearable weight. His lips meet mine with enough force to bruise my face. The surprise of it gives him the chance to coax my lips into parting as his hands move to either side of my face. My body reacts without my permission, letting him deepen the kiss. Every time I find some kind of free will, Kirigan pushes it away with some kind of tactful lull of his tongue. Keeping his control, Kirigan ends the kiss by grazing sharp teeth against my bottom lip. 

I’m left panting. “You’re--you lied, Kirigan--I--” 

“You told me once you could never see me as a monster.”

“I said that to a version of you that technically doesn’t exist.” 

The grief in my chest and desire in my stomach twist in a nauseating way. Kirigan’s eyes watch me patiently, a pain similar to my own reflected in them. “Who I am when I’m with you is less fictitious than any identity I’ve ever given myself.”

The vulnerability in his voice is as alluring and distracting as the kiss. I find myself thinking of the warmth of his mouth against my skin. He had kissed me like the cure for ancient solitude could come from me. I think he had a point, because now that he’s not touching me in that way I feel the familiar tugs of cold emptiness. 

“I don’t understa--” My words are cut off by his lips brushing against mine. 

His touch is soft, but it’s far from shy as he draws out the kiss. It’s an attempt to keep me on edge, to keep me wanting him enough to push past my doubts. “Y/n,” there’s a reverent quality to his voice, “I--” Kirigan grabs the collar of my dress, pulling me to him sharply. His kiss conveys things that neither of us truly understand. “Don’t go.” 

I don’t want to. The realization is a cruel wave crashing against my chest. “You lie to everyone, you lie to me--you--you hurt and destroy and I--” One of his hands brushes against the hem of my dress. “What are you,” the words are supposed to be sharp, but my resolve melts as his hand presses firmly against my thigh, “Doing?” 

“You know me,” he draws out each word as his fingers graze towards the inside of my thighs. The cool metal of his rings are practically ice against my flushed skin. “Little dove, trust me.” 

My nails dig into my palms as I try to ignore what he’s doing. “I did and you betrayed me.” 

“I couldn’t lose you,” he whispers, thumb inching up my inner thigh.

I press my lips together, fighting against a natural reaction. “You did lose me.” 

Kirigan’s eyes darken as his grip on my thigh tightens. “We’ll move past this.” He’s both pleading and assured. “I think I know how to make it up to you.” He trails his hand up my thigh swiftly, stopping with his hand on my lower hip. Shamelessly, he toys with the hem of my underwear. “The only thing that’s really changed is that now I’m touching you like this.” 

The only thing I can do is gape at him. He’s a villain, his hands are coated in unnecessarily spilled blood, and I am helpless against his slightest touch. I should try pushing him away or at the very least resist his blatant advantages. His fingers brush down my underwear, stopping at a growing wet spot. The knowing look he gives me burns my core. I try to keep my expression hard in a final form of protest, but when he presses his pointer finger against me all the resolve in me is shattered. 

My eyebrows draw together as a small sound escapes me, “Kirigan.” I can’t tell if it’s praise or a warning. 

He pauses, hand retracting slightly at my whining. “Y/n,” his other hand cups my cheek. I lean into the contact without permission from my body. “There is only one name that I have not given myself and only one name I want to hear you breathe like that.” His thumb traces my lips softly. I don’t move as he leans forward, turning his lips towards my ear. 

“Aleksander.” His name is nothing more than a breath, a stolen heartbeat on his lips. 

He presses his fingers against where I’m the weakest again. My hips grind forward instinctually, desperate for more contact as he kisses the top of my jaw. 

“Aleksander.” The name escapes me in the form of a broken moan. Speaking it feels more intimate than the way he’s touching me. 

There’s the slightest pause in his consuming actions. “Again,” he breathes, “Say my name again.” His request is so soft it feels like he’s more at my mercy than I am at his. 

My eyes shut as his teeth graze my neck. “Aleksander.” At the sound of his name, his teeth brush against my skin harder than ever. 

When he starts to pull away, I reach out desperately, grabbing his kefta. “I thought you wanted to leave, little dove.” 

No. No. He is not going to get me to agree to stay by giving me something as intimate as his original name and by denying me his touch. “Please.” 

He reaches for my hand, pulling it off of him cruelly. “Do you want to stay with me?” 

I know which answer will get me what I really want, but I’m not sure which answer is true. Do I want to stay with him? Even after knowing what he’s done? “I don’t want to leave you.” The vulnerability of the statement cracks at my heart. He turns away from me in order to face the wall. I take a tentative step towards. “But I’m not sure what I want matters.” 

In one quick motion, he’s yanking more forward and pressing me into the wall. “Of course desire matters,” his body is pressed against mine almost entirely, “It means something.” He brushes his knuckles against my cheek. “It means you could choose me.” 

What could I say to that? I part my lips to speak but he silences me by pressing his lips against my jaw. I offer no protest as he starts touching me the way he did earlier. I’m more desperate now, more needy and okay with that. His fingers slip past my underwear testingly, hesitating before finally entering me slowly. 

“Aleksander,” my voice is so needy I’m not sure it’s my own. 

“I want you to say my name like that again,” he whispers, kissing down my collarbone as he begins to press his fingers in and out of me faster, “And I want you to say my name casually,” his pace doesn’t slow, even when I begin to let out indistinguishable whines, “And I want you to say my name while you’re falling asleep,” his touch becomes more aggressive as his words become more sincere, “And I want you to say my name every other way there is to say it.” 

The bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach grows until there’s nothing else for me to hold onto. I finish with a sharp gasp. The feeling of euphoria is only intensified as Aleksander begins to kiss up my jaw before finally pressing our lips together. 

I break the kiss first, desperate to breathe. Have my legs been so shaky this entire time? Aleksander lets me recover, resting his head against my forehead. “I’m tired of being alone.” 

I imagine all the foul acts he’s committed and all the bad he wants to bring. I picture all the innocent blood he’s spilled. I see all of it--every horror and dark deed he’s ever committed. But I cannot see me leaving him. Maybe that makes me a monster, maybe that makes me an idiot...but I can’t do it. 

Slowly, I move to drape my arms over his back in a loose hug. “You’re not alone, Aleksander.” I’m not sure what that signifies, but I know it’s true. There has to be good in him. No one capable of such warmth can be pure evil. “I choose you.” 

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #sab #sab imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #ben barnes #darkling x reader #darkling imagine #the darkling x reader smut #general kirigan x reader smut #my works #x reader

[sugamamacustard]

Feed Me

Pairing: Alpha! Keiji Akaashi X Omega! Reader, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Rintaro Suna x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: Ooooo what about when Alphas 🐘 ( maybe akaashi, ushijima, rin and kuroo) find out that their omega has not been eating enough like (their only eating little things like granola bars or fruit) so their upset that they had to find out through someone else and they scold them for that but then their told that they have gain some weight and that gets them even more upset because they think their perfect etc.

Summary: Some times, people do things because it’s what they think is best. You don’t tell your alpha about some weight gain you’ve noticed, and try taking care of it yourself because of this.

Author’s Note: Hey, you. Yeah you. The beautiful person reading this? You are perfect. You are worth it. Your feelings are valid and you shouldn’t feel bad about having them. You are so amazing, and even if I don’t know you, I am so proud of you. You are so strong for making it so far. Keep going. Never change. :) Also your nice comments? Literally my dose of serotonin

did I mention my OC one or twice? Yes. Am I sorry? No. Also, idk if anyone is curious, but Yuka doesn't actually go to Shiritorizawa but whatever.

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Mentions of (Semi?) Starvation.

Keiji Akaashi

➵Now, Keiji is pretty on top of omega and significant other care.

➵ Like, weirdly so. It's honestly kind of creepy?

➵ In an endearing way.

➵ He always says 'Bokuto-Kun prepared me in a way.'

➵ Honestly, he loves doing this for you too!

➵He loves caring for you so much.

➵ Like I firmly believe Akaashi's love language is acts of service.

➵ So things like bringing you food, leaving sweet notes in your locker, helping you with your homework.

➵ He lives for doing these things.

➵ Especially feeding you snacks and things.

➵ It made his inner alpha purr because that meant he was caring for you. Providing for you.

➵ Being the very thing that made him worthy of an alpha.

➵ Prove that he could continue being the alpha you needed and wanted.

➵ Unfortunately, there were downsides.

➵ Your hips had the beginnings of small love handles, a little more chub on you tummy, thighs a little squishier.

➵ Let's not lie, Keiji absolutely adored this, by the way.

➵ I also think one of his biggest kinks is praise

➵ He makes sure you know how loved and how perfect you are.

➵ It's sometimes hard to believe him though.

___

"Y/N?"

You hummed an acknowledgment at Keiji's call, typing the final words to your essay before turning to look at your beautiful alpha- Sometimes you questioned how you hooked him. His gorgeous emerald eyes shining with love and adoration.

"I'm gonna go run and pick up some supper, what would you like beloved?" He came up to squeeze and massage your shoulders, leaning down as he pressed a small peck to your temple, your purr a sweet melody to his ears.

You swallowed behind your purr, trying to hide the small panic in your eyes. Your mind instantly flashed to your reflection this morning, how you pinched your hips with a frown. You already had been slowing down on the snacks, and fast food made you shiver.

"I-I'm okay for now, Keiji. Thank you though." You smiled, nonetheless, holding Keiji's cheek in your hand. He quirked a brow, frowning slightly before nodding lowly. Another peck was pressed to your cheek before he left, ordering your favorite from the diner he took you to for your first date.

-

"Beloved, I'm back." Keiji called, once more tearing you away from your essay; you were always thankful for the distraction though. He set down the take out bag, taking out the top box and handing it to you before shrugging off his jacket.

"Keiji? I said I was okay-"

"I didn't believe you. Now come on, you need to take a break and I'm touch starved." The raven didn't even look behind at you before pulling out his own box, dragging your rolley-chair to the bed. He pulled his sweater over his head, handing that to you as well before giving you a sweet peck.

His eyes locked with yours. Your breath hitched. So many silent words swam in his eyes, asking you, demanding you, to tell you what was wrong.

"I just- I've gained a little weight lately and-"

"And? My love, you are just as gorgeous as the day I met you. Nothing is wrong with a little weight, even if I think you're foolish to think you've gained weight. Never think otherwise. Even if you do, let me know, my job as your alpha and boyfriend is to make sure you feel as good as possible no matter what."

He slipped the sweater over your head, rehanding you your meal that he took from you momentarily, running a hand through your hair.

"Your my beautiful omega. Nothing should keep you from your happiness."

Wakatoshi Ushijima

➵Unlike Akaashi, Wakatoshi is little more...Hesitant (In a way) when it comes to omegan care.

➵ He never really learned how to? Ya know?

➵ Both his parents were alphas, and he was never around omegas consistently enough to learn.

➵and it's not like you were a volleyball that he could use the same techniques to up-keep.

➵ He also couldn't ask his team.

➵ Well, he could, but only one other person on his team had an omega. (It was Satori and his advice, though helpful, could only go so far.)

➵ He was doing good though, especially with you holding his hand through the entire thing.

➵ The first time he noticed something was up was when you didn't show up to lunch-- texting him a picture of you in the library, tongue poking out as you held up a peace sign to assure him you were okay.

➵ When he brought it up to Satori, who had his own omega (A small, but fiery brunette named Yuka) leaning on his side as she played some sort of phone game on his phone (Mama's slusheria? He thinks?) .

➵He explained he didn't know what was going on with you while Satori listened with a hum before giving him a sad smile. "Sorry I can't help you further Ushi-waka, but as you can see-" He slid his unfinished lunch towards Yuka, who popped one of the Dango skewers into her mouth without looking up. "I'm not very familiar with the problem."

➵ He offered his help as much as he could nonetheless.

➵ He slowly began to pick up on smaller things, locking them in his steel trap.

➵ Like a good boy :)

➵ He put hours of research into omegas after this (not that he hadn't previously). Keeping strenuous notes beside him.

➵ They were colorful and highlighted :)

➵ And he followed the advice that 'Mommy Luna-boo' posted on the blog he found like a goddamn Mantra. ('Sometimes Omegas need a little more love! Their bodies, especially during high school years, will change a lot! They may feel a little down! As an alpha, make sure you remind them how beautiful they are!')

➵She was mother Theresa and he was her follower.

➵ Well after he followed you.

➵and after he made sure you were feeling better

___

"Omega?"

"Toshi."

Walking into your dorm room, Wakatoshi set down a small bag filled with goodies. He set it down on your bed as he sat down as well, watching you carefully.

When you gave him a small smile with a quirked brow, he took a deep breath, remembering everything Tendou had coached him through.

"Have you been eating enough lately?"

You sucked your tongue at the question, shuffling your shoulders. Truth be told you had been missing out on a few lunches after noting a few extra pounds you hadn't noticed earlier. You never meant to worry him, that was never your intention, but it seemed the world was working against you. You had no clue where to go from here. If you told him the truth that would do nothing but worry him, but lying was never good in any form of relationship.

Your hesitance to tell him was more than enough though, as his larger lands encased your own, holding them tightly.

"Why?" His tone wasn't accusatory nor was it angry in the slightest. Genuine curious if anything. If he could get to the bottom of the root of the problem, he could prevent it from happening in the future. Right?

"I- I just...Noticed a few extra pounds and-"

"That's it?"

You looked up to him with a tilted head, like a lost puppy. "What do you mean that's it?"

Pulling you closer, Wakatoshi effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, using one hand to dig through the bag beside him while the other wrapped around your hips. He pulled out a few of your favorite snacks laying them out in front of you.

"That's, in my opinion, a silly thing to worry about. If you feel that's a big problem, I can offer my services to you in any way you wish-- whether it be support or as help, it is my job to be there for you." He nuzzled your scent gland, voice rumbling against your shoulders.

You purred in response, leaning back onto your alpha.

Rintaro Suna

➵ Suna is a lot like Akaashi in the sense that he has incredible observational skills as an alpha.

➵ His eyes are like sniper scopes.

➵ The minute something is wrong, he's on it.

➵ Like he looks aloof but he's not.

➵ He had notes.

➵ So hiding something from him is not easy at all.

➵ But you two most likely ended up together because you gave him a run for his money.

➵ You made him work at being an alpha.

➵ And he loved you for that.

➵ It did come back to bite him in the ass though.

➵ The only reason he heard about this was because the betas at Inarizaki were loud mouths.

➵ Honestly he learned so much tea from them.

➵ Like this third year was sleeping with a first year because she planned on baby trapping him and-

➵ It was wild.

➵Though most times it was nothing more than a source of entertainment for you and him to laugh about.

➵This time the gossip was actually useful.

➵ He wasn't thrilled they were talking about you, but provided some very useful information.

➵ And he was set into action.

➵ typing a few things onto his phone he set out to find you.

___

"Rin, I said I'm not hungry-"

"I know and I'm making the executive decision to ignore you."

He squinted his eyes at the carefully written instructions in front of him, sending a silent thanks to Atsumu's mate Haruka. (;)) She had written a step by step instruction sheet to making Onigiri while also dropping off all the ingredients (Pre-prepped). The only reason she didn't make it was because Suna's alpha, no matter how much he trusted her, wouldn't have let it near you.

"Rintato-"

"Look, Y/N. I love you, you know that. You know a lot of things, you're my smart little omega. So you must also know this isn't good, right?" Sliding a plate of, albeit mediocre, onigiri towards you, Rintaro focused his gaze on you.

"You know this, eh?"

You swallowed before grabbing one of the triangles, nibbling on the top in an attempt to appease your alpha. His sharp gaze still focused on you, making you shiver as he rounded around the counter. He turned you around so you were facing him, his hands holding your hips.

"You know this."

You wilted under his expectant gaze, knowing what he wanted from you. "I know this."

He smirked, leaning to take bite from your snack, licking his lips as he did. "Good omega."

"Rintaro that's mine!"

#alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha/beta/omega #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu omegaverse #alpha akaashi #alpha Keiji Akaashi #alpha Keiji akaashi x omega reader #alpha akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #alpha wakatoshi Ushijima x omega reader #alpha wakatoshi ushijima #alpha ushijima #alpha ushijima x omega reader #wakatoshi ushijima #wakatoshi ushijima x reader #ushijima x reader #alpha suna x reader #alpha rintaro suna #alpha Rintaro Suna x omega reader #alpha suna x omega reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #rintaro x you

[astrolovecosmos]

Neptune: Deep Dive

Pink petals

fallen onto

night shaded

waters.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Wood turned to metal.

Reality turned to dreams.

-Natasha Reeves 

The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive. 

The Sea’s Love and Wrath 

Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow. 

Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies. 

Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea. 

Enlightenment and Madness

Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves 

There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog. 

The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding. 

Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power. 

It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see. 

Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes 

“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall. 

When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive. 

Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around. 

I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.

“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle. 

Alice: Imagination and Dreams 

Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality. 

Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams. 

Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence. 

Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit. 

What about Healing and the Spiritual? 

Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises. 

Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity. 

Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others. 

Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions. 

While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it. 

#neptune #planet #astrology #zodiac #learn astrology

[devilyn]

moon without the stars | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: moon without the stars by jerry barnes quiana

I can only hope you remember all the simple things

Like what's a heartbeat

without heartache

What's a hurricane

without the rain 

What's the moon without the stars

That's how it feels when we're apart

— synopsis: your absence teaches him how to learn to live without you, keeping pieces of you even while you’re gone.

— genre: angst, happy endings, hurt/comfort, tsukishima kei being somewhat emotionally competent for once

— word count: 2k

Tsukishima Kei wondered how he lived before you. He’d spent the past three days trying to figure that out. He slept in your shared bed and closed his eyes, trying to pretend like the cold wasn’t clawing its way into his chest--a cold you could easily chase away by simply wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling your way into his arms.

And even if he teased you for being needy, he’d wrap his long arms around you and hug you even closer to him to keep your warmth close--fully chasing that cold ache in his chest away.

But now he was stuck living with the cold. No many how many layers he put on, or how many blankets he tried to stack on top of his tall form, the ache wouldn’t dissipate. 

It was strange. He didn’t remember feeling this cold even when you pulled him out into the rain, laughing about how everyone needed to dance in the rain once. Even though he whined about how he couldn’t see because his glasses were completely soaked, you pulled him into your local playground and forced him to twirl you around, a bright smile on your pretty lips. The rain was cold, for sure. You actually caught a cold the next day. But he distinctly remembered how warm his heart felt when you leaned up and kissed him, the rain pattering down harshly against his skin even as you slid your warm hands over his flushed cheeks.

He had to nurse you back to health the next day, but he couldn’t help but smile at how happy you sounded when you recounted the experience back to him through coughs and sneezes.

“I think...we need to take a break.”

He wasn’t quite sure what prompted your decision. To him, everything seemed fine.

“Why?”

He didn’t even know why he asked. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to hear the reason, but you answered nonetheless. Because that’s just who you were.

“I’m scared of how much I love you.”

It wasn’t an answer he was expecting. He wasn’t sure how he even reacted then, but he remembered how his brows furrowed at the way the tears started to drip down your cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do if I can’t live without you.”

You had cried, even though you were the one leaving him. Because you loved him.

“What a selfish reason,” he had thought at the time. “What about me?”

But instead of telling you that, Tsukishima stiffly nodded his head. Because he knew that even if he wanted to keep you by his side, he would rather die than make you unhappy. It was a strange feeling for him, putting someone else’s feelings over his own.

“I’m sorry. I just...need some time. I’ll be back in a week.”

A week, you had said.

He wasn’t sure he could last that long. The only reason he was still alive was because you had sent him a simple text asking if he had eaten, and he had replied with a curt ‘yes’.

What really broke his heart was the text that followed.

“i miss u.”

He didn’t reply. If he did, he’d expose way too much about how he wished that whatever you were spending time contemplating could’ve been done by his side. Even though he knew that your love for him was the main reason why you were staying away.

He had to admit, he was just as scared as you were of the love between you. But he didn’t expect that his loving partner would be the one to run away first while he was trying to cling on. Maybe it’s because that’s just how hard you loved. You fell ten times faster than he did. If he was scared, then you must be terrified.

It didn’t stop him from wishing you’d trust him enough to catch you each time you fell deeper and deeper for him though. 

In fact, he’s sure he’s never smiled this much in his life since he was a child. Even his mother said you were changing him, so what was he supposed to do when his reason to smile was suddenly ripped away?

Tsukishima spent his days monotonously. Breakfast alone. Classes. Lunch alone Homework alone. Practice that could distract him from the thought of you. Dinner alone. Then, he’d try and sleep.

The only thing keeping him alive was the simple “i miss u” text that he kept glancing at even though you sent it nearly two days ago now. That, and the pictures you had forced him to take on his phone that he was now constantly scrolling through. 

Some of them were foolish, like that one blurry photo of you trying to take a selfie with his phone while he was washing the dishes, but he had slapped his sud-covered palm over his phone camera to prevent you from doing so. It reminded him of what happened after, when he ended up wrapping his arms around your waist, playfully slipping his soapy hands up your shirt and drawing his favorite laugh from your lips.

Others were ones you had posted on your social media that made him smile. Like the one of you pulling him down to press a proud kiss to his cheek after he won one of his many volleyball competitions in high school. Tsukishima had a completely flustered look on his face at the public display of affection that occurred in one of your first years of dating. Though he was embarrassed at the time, it was now a memory he looked back fondly on, because afterwards, he had pulled your chin up towards him so he could press his lips to yours and embarrass you just as much. It failed though, because his teammates whistled and cheered him on, and he ended up just as red as you.

Some were even just of you sleeping or doing mundane tasks that he couldn’t help but snap photos of, because it all felt so domestic, and he had a spark of hope that he’d be able to spend the rest of his life admiring those sights first hand.

When he looked at those photos, the pain in his chest faded bit by bit, and he’d be able to finally close his eyes and sleep.

His monotonous routine repeated until the final day of the week. You had promised to come back tomorrow. Tsukishima unlocked his phone, golden brown eyes gazing up at the way you sleepily looked into his camera while you brushed your teeth. His heart warmed at the thought of being able to fall asleep with you tomorrow night.

He slept peacefully that night, the memory of your bright smile lighting up that one rainy night chasing the ache in his chest away.

Now, he was anxiously pacing back and forth by the front door. Would it seem desperate to answer the door right away? Should he pretend to be doing something else? Would it be better to pretend like he didn’t miss you as much as he did?

The doorbell rang, and Tsukishima ripped the front door open without hesitation with wide eyes.

You stood there, with surprise in your eyes and your finger still hovering over the doorbell.

“...I’m home, Kei.”

Then, you smiled. And Tsukishima Kei thought he may cry right then and there. He blinked a few times to make sure you were real before releasing a shaky sigh and averting his gaze.

You were so radiant, so bright, he wasn’t sure he could even look at you directly.

“...welcome home,” he responded shakily, finally tossing his arms around you and pulling your face into his chest.

You laughed, the sound wet as your tears stained his sweater. Your bags sat by the front door--the same ones you had packed to leave just a week ago. But this time, you were coming home.

Your arms tightened around your boyfriend’s waist as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent and finally relaxing for the first time in seven days.

“What did you think about while you were gone?” he asked later that night, running his fingers through your hair as the two of you laid in bed together.

“You’re strangely curious, aren’t you?” you teased, purring happily at his touch. He rolled his eyes and shot you a glare, to which you laughed.

“...just wanted to know if I could live without you.”

Tsukishima raised a brow in confusion, staring down at you.

“...you tortured me for an entire week because you wanted to see if you could live without me?”

“Was it really torture?” you asked innocently, clearly unaware of the pain he went through just because you had left his side, and he knew he couldn’t just reach out and bring you back.

Still, the man had his pride, and he cursed at the fact that he had misspoken. Your eyes were shimmering mischievously.

“Wow, I didn’t know Tsukishima Kei loved me that much,” you teased and he scoffed, opting to ignore you instead of giving in. Knowing you wouldn’t win, you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his chin and silently surrendered.

“I told you. I was scared of how much I loved you,” you murmured against his skin as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. “So I left for a bit. What would life be like if I couldn’t love you anymore? What would I do if you decided you didn’t want me by your side anymore?”

“Do you think so little of me?” your boyfriend asked bitterly, and you quickly shook your head.

“I know you love me, Kei--”

“So then you just selfishly left? Without thinking of how I felt?”

You lifted your head to meet his angry gaze, hands coming up to gently cup his cheeks.

“Didn’t you learn something too?”

He furrowed his brows, the scowl never leaving his lips.

“What?” he practically spat out, and you merely giggled at his anger, only infuriating him further.

“Y/N, listen to me--”

“Didn’t you sleep fine last night?”

He blinked, tension disappearing from his brows and the anger in his eyes quickly replaced with confusion.

How the hell did you know that?

“Because I did,” you tilted your head up to brush your nose over his in an eskimo kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, but his gaze never left you, as if worried you would disappear from underneath him. “I slept great. Because I remembered that one time I made us dance in the rain, and you had to take care of me the next day because I got sick like you told me I would.”

His heart quivered in his chest as you laughed.

“I learned something, Kei,” you whispered, eyes opening to meet his still puzzled gaze. “Even if I have to be apart from you. Even if I have to leave you, or if you have to leave me, I’ll never let go of you.”

His expression softened as you smiled brightly. 

“I’ll always love you, you know that? Because that memory, and many others, will always be with me, even if we’re apart,” you mused, thumbs running over his cheeks as he let out a weak laugh.

“...you’re crazy,” he finally said, and you gasped in feigned offense.

“Kei, you’re mean!”

“No, I’m honest,” he stated plainly before breaking into a small smile. The sight of your boyfriend’s rare smile naturally drew a bright one from you, and he leaned down to press his lips gently against your own.

“I’m never leaving you, though,” he finally murmured against your lips as he pulled back, and he could feel you smile against him.

“I know,” you whispered, tilting your head up to kiss him again. 

And even though you didn’t say it, he knew you wouldn’t leave him either. Not again, or by choice. But now he knew that if you did, you’d always be with him.

The memory of your smile, your laughter, your radiance, your crazy antics, he’d never be able to forget them. And while he half hated you for becoming such a large part of him, he knew that even if he had the choice, he’d never let them go.

Because he loves you. And he loves the you that loves him, even if it’s terrifying.

#clearly tsukki is my only muse #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei angst #tsukishima angst #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima kei imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst

[myonepiece]

Hello 😳 so I saw your post about Kyoshiro and Bartolomeo with a clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat, and let me tell you, that post AWAKENED something inside of me 🤤💞 so I would like to request a King, Sanji, and Mihawk with clingy short fem!S/O who's also a scary cat if your request are still opened that is 😚👉👈 thank you in advance, and you can ignore this request if you want. I hope you have a good day or night luv 😚💗

King, Sanji with a clingy short fem!S/O who’s a scaredy cat

King x Reader,   Sanji x Reader

Description: King & Sanji (seperate) with a short fem!S/O who is clingy and gets scared easily + oneshot/drabble with her getting scared and hiding behind character

Warnings: very mild implied sexual harrassment (in King’s oneshot), mild cursing

A/N: I’m so glad you liked it, it was so fun to write! 💐 (I love how you used so many emojis in your request) and I hope it’s okay I only did sanji and king, it’s just that this situation ends up fairly long 💕

*for King let’s say you’re around his height, the top of your head is a little above his waist 

King is definitely not the most affectionate person, he’s not a fan of PDA other than having you sit on his lap. if you get too physically affectionate (which is very) then King will warn you in a stern voice to stop, and if you don’t then he’ll move you away or simply place you on the ground and push you away

in private he’s more okay with you being clingy, still not the fondest though

he has nothing against your height, he (secretly) finds it adorable and he likes to watch you walk around the Beast Pirates crew because he finds it amusing to see the height differences between you and everyone else, your height is another reason he prefers having you stay on his lap often or at least have you right next to him- he’s worried someone (Kaido) will step on you

he also likes the way your hand looks on him, whether it’s resting on his arm, his chest, or his own hand, he always stares at the interaction and admires how precious and sweet you look

he sometimes finds your cowardness irritating, but even as he scolds you or strictly teases you for being scared so easily, he’s happy that you come to him to feel safe- honestly he never thought someone would feel safe with him nor did he want someone to until he met you

and after he scolds you he always pushes you away or behind him so he can handle whoever messed with his angel (usually it’s Queen, he likes messing with King and one of the most effective ways to do that is to mess with you) he also uses his wings as somewhat of a shield for you, providing cover usually 

+ oneshot

You tentatively walked through the dimly lit hall in the Beast Pirates base, the cold stone chilling the air around you and creating a slight echo of the patter of your shoes.

keeping your eyes trained on the ground while a few lesser crew members passed you, you followed the little cracks in the stone, branching out and creating intricate patterns- your eyes fell upon a pair of shoes and you froze midstep, looking up and perceiving Queen staring down at you, an unsettling smirk contorting his face

you smiled slightly up at him, trying to step around him and continue only to be stopped by his hand reaching out and tilting your head to look at him, the touch seding shivers down your spine, the bad kind of shivers

it wasn’t unusual for Queen to mess with you, enjoying your disturbed and fearful reactions as the sadistic man he is, and the reaction he gets from King is pure gold to him- he enjoys making King get protective so he can tease him for being so smitten

“______, how bout you come with me! some of the crew are going to sumo wrestle! come see their heads pop off!”

Queen laughed at your unsettled expression before leaning down a bit and blowing smoke out into your face,

“or maybe I should snap the collar on you an’ throw you into the ring”

you gasped, causing Queen to chortle in amusement- you took the moment of his distraction to move away from his touch and scurry off down the hall, hearing Queen call after you in a mocking tone and follow in pursuit

you hurried through the halls and spotted King at the end in the large room at the end, he stood at the table conversing with Jack, though clearly uninterested with the subject

you picked up your pace and your heels clicked against the ground alerting King, who knew you are the only one who wears shoes that make that sound. he turned to the entrance happy to have something to do other than play with Jack, but he didn’t like the worried expression on your face- nor Queen rounding the corner after you having all too familar mischievous expression on his lips. 

scurrying into the room, you ran over to King and hid behind his large wings. his glare never left Queen as the large man entered the room and moved towards where you stood huddled against King’s wings, stopping in front of the armored man and taking a long drag on his cigar. 

“what are you doing you moron”

Queen laughed at King’s protectiveness already showing, finding amusement in his crewmember’s smittenesque.

“I was inviting her to play a game you jackass!”

he laughed heartily at King’s insulted and angry expression. your boyfriend took a step forward, now only a few feet away from Queen- the atmosphere in the room grew tense and Jack was watching with wary eyes matching yours as you watched the two calamities square up, both ready to strike if it came to it. but King is observant, he saw that Queen had no intention of hurting him, he simply wanted to scare you and get a rise out of him.

he scoffed and turned begrudgingly back to you, moving to take a seat at the table and lifting you onto his lap with ease. you settled against his steel covered chest, still slightly shaking from Queen’s scare- King’s eyes narrowed at Queen when he chuckled again and sat in the chair between King and Jack, throwing a wink in your direction. King visibly flinched and his behind left the chair momentarily before returning, remembering that’s what Queen wanted- and you were safe on his lap. 

Sanji is super clingy himself, he has no problem at all with your affection and neediness. he’s always more than happy to hug you or cuddle you or kiss you, it’s one of his favorite things to do- he’s constantly asking himself how he got so lucky to have a girl like you

one of the things Sanji finds most adorable about you is your height, no matter what you do Sanji thinks you’re the cutest thing ever, he’s always offering to carry you, he always pulls you onto his lap- back hugs are another one of his favorite things because your body is so much smaller than his own and he thinks it’s adorable how perfectly you fit in his embrace, and don’t even get him started on how cute your hands look holding onto his hand

your slight cowardness gives him an excuse to hold you even more, he offers his hand or arm for you to hold, and whenever you grab onto him he has to fight back the squeals and focus on the problem at hand, making sure you feel safe and are completely out of harm’s way

+ oneshot 

the island you docked at had a quaint little town, small but bustling with life- you had gone to look at a store for some new clothes. unfortunately you couldn’t find anything and you had to head back to the ship empty handed. to make things even worse, while you were watching the ground you bumped into someone, who happened to be much bigger than you and piss drunk. 

“oi! what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, stuttering out an apology that only seemed to make the man madder. 

“you need to fucking watch where you’re... you’re going”

he swayed on his feet and leaned down so that he was face level with you, pointing an accusing finger in your face and once again his alcohol filled breath invaded your senses.

“you-you have no idea who you’re dealing with”

his words slurred together and his unbalance caused him to lean forward slightly and you took a step back- all of a sudden you heard a familiar voice over the crowd’s chatter.

“______-swaaaan!!”

you looked to the side and spotted the relieving blond hair bouncing through the crowd while your boyfriend quickly weaved his way through the crowd towards you. stopping beside you and throwing his hands wielding shopping bags into the air.

“I got you gifts my beautiful  _____-swan!” 

this is when he noticed the man far too close for his liking, his face fell with his arms, turning to one of suspicion and confusion, then to one of disgust and slight anger. he handed you the bags gently and stepped in front of the man, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“why are you bothering my little _____-swan?”

his voice was tight and you could tell he was mad, but the strager didn’t seem to pick up on the danger in his drunkness. you reached up and clutched the bottom of Sanji’s jacket in your hand, he felt the action rigth away and his anger dissipated and his face broke into a huge grin. he spun on his heel and threw his arms around your waist, picking you up and smushing his cheek against yours while he rambled about how adorable you are- his perfect moment ruined by the stranger’s words.

“she ran into me you bastard, make her *hiccup* apologize before I do”

“oi, don’t ignore me!”

Sanji’s smile faltered slightly and he lifted his foot, spinning quickly and kicking the man with such force that it sent him flying away through the wall of the shop behind. 

“I’m trying to hug my angel! don’t interupt you idiot!”

“_____-swan I’m so sorry you had to see that~!”

you giggled at Sanji’s foolishness, leaning you head down to peck his nose- making his cheeks turn an even brighter red and he squealed. 

“ooh we need to get back to the ship so you can try on the clothes I got for you my dear!”

he placed his arm under you, switching to holding you in a bridal style, and he pranced off down the street towards the awaiting ship- his face still dangerously flushed and his eyes closed in joy.

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #sanji imagine #one piece sanji #one piece king #king the wildfire #king headcanons #king imagine #king the wildfire imagine #king x reader

[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support. 

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

 -

  When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us. 

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

 -

  I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside. 

Turning back to my car, I  wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology.  "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #once bitten twice shy

[thefanficmonster]

Just Another One

Sequel to: ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’

Corpse Husband x Actress!Reader (Female)

Warnings: Angst, Heartbreak, Mention of bad past relationships, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They keep proving each other right in the most wrong ways possible. They each want to be guarded even if that means the other will be hurt. Maybe that’s what they want - to hurt one another because they’ve already hurt each other once before.

Requested by the lovely readers who enjoyed the previous fic ‘A Little Bit Of Honesty’. Sorry for the large time gap between the posting of the two fics but I still hope you guys will take the time to read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love you all with all my heart, Vy ❤

When you go out of your way to avoid leaving the house your options of entertainment are severely limited and you can’t blame anyone or anything but yourself for it. Today, I wouldn’t have gone out of my apartment even if I was one of those people who frequent the outdoors seeing as how the sky is trying to flood the Earth with all this nonstop rain. It does set a mood for a perfect night in but when you spend all your nights in doing the same thing over and over again, the atmosphere is practically meaningless. And so I ‘ve decided to resort to channel surfing as though I’ll find something interesting on TV that I haven’t yet seen on one of my social media timelines.

I pass several cooking channels on my journey, making a mental note of their individual numbers in case I don’t stumble across anything capable of better distracting me from my boredom and loneliness that’s slowly starting to creep in. I pass by a few movie channels showing teenage romcoms as if to celebrate the start of summer so you can imagine how quickly I moved on from those. Then come the celebrity channels which can often get a laugh out of me because of how pathetic and unbelievably ridiculous they are. And so, I stick around one where there’s a broadcast on a movie showing that’s happening tonight in LA. Oddly enough, despite my anxiety, going to a movie showing has always been on my list of things I’d want to do. This can be considered living vicariously or rubbing salt into the wound that I’ll probably never go because my anxiety and fear of being recognized is too severe. Either way I stick around to watch it.

And man do I regret it now looking at several different angels of a couple of actors entering the venue where they are to be photographed and asked questions by the mob of paparazzi that’s gathered due to the massive event. That in and of itself doesn’t sound - and really isn’t - so bad. However, it’s important to note that the actress in this duo is Y/N. Y/N L/N. My Y/N....shit, sorry, I mean my FRIEND Y/N, her arm linked with whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is who is holding an umbrella above the both of them, shielding them from the downpour of rain that is also taking place in LA apparently.

“The two were seen entering the venue earlier this evening, looking particularly cozy in each other’s presence if I do say so myself. The rain probably worked nicely in their favor.“ The first reporter says, her teasing tone of voice sending chills of anger down my spine as I glare at the screen, hands balled in fists, jaw clenched - all my body’s instinctive reactions to what is being shown to me. I know I technically have no right to behave or feel this way, in fact I should be fucking happy for Y/N and her successful career and the progress in her love life. But damn it how can I?! I was so damn close to kissing this girl! I was so fucking close to falling in another trap, tripping and landing in the embrace of another liar and user, another girl who switches partners more often than shoes. How could I’ve been so reckless to get so close to her even platonically? How did we become close enough for me to 1) show her my face; 2) start inviting her over to my apartment regularly; and how didn’t I notice the kind of messed up person she was all that time.

She was all sweet and flirting and shit a week or so ago and now she’s doing the exact same thing with him! The cameras are capturing them perfectly: every laugh, every exchange of a knowing look or nod, ever smack to his arm when he tells a joke. But what bothers me most is the many times he’s wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer. Not just for pictures, but just because the fucker felt like it! And Y/N doesn’t seem to mind it at all. 

“They have been the talk of the town recently, so while they could just be adding fuel to the fire, they could also have been caught by the flame and ‘caught feelings’ as they say. Regardless these two are a view we’d like to see more often.“ The other reporter says and that’s the final straw.

In one swift motion I turn the TV off and throw the remote across the room. It hits the wall and falls to the ground in several pieces, broken by the force of the impact. Just like I am broken by the force of the impact of these news. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I fell for her and almost let her know it; the fact that she’s just another member of the club I don’t want anywhere near my life; or the fact that I can’t believe it.

Yeah that’s right - one foolish part of me refuses to believe that’s she’d do such a thing. I think that’s the same part which is still in awe of her so you can bet I ignore that part the majority of the time.

She is just another one. Not the one. Having been hurt before doesn’t mean she won’t hurt me or anyone else she’s gonna be with. Hurt people hurt people.

And damn has she hurt me, probably without knowing a damn thing. How selfish can you be, Y/N? How selfish can you really get? And how much am I going to allow you to hurt me?

                                                             *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Andrew. I would’ve died on the spot of anxiety if I was on my own.“ I say to my best friend who is currently sitting next to me on a park bench, in a tux, eating a cheeseburger. I too am still in my gown and am also gorging on a cheeseburger of my own.

“Don’t mention it. Us anxious people need to stick together.“ He bumps his shoulder against mine, stealing a small genuine smile from me, “Plus I couldn’t not come with you. You know how much I like a good rumor.“

I scoff, “Of course you do, but then again there was no need to add to what the media has already made a whole-ass ship out of.” I roll my eyes and take another bite. My appetite hasn’t been in its best condition so I’m only eating this under Andrew’s orders. I have no idea how people can ship us romantically, he’s the definition of an older - and very bossy - brother to me. I wish I could tell each and every single one of those girls who hate me because I’ve ‘stolen their man’ that I’d most likely be their sister in law rather than man snatcher, seeing as how my relationship with Andrew is so sibling-like.

That’s because we’re too alike, no one gets that. People play the ‘opposites attract’ car more often than I consider rational. But  then again when they see a couple like Andrew and I - who are basically the same person in different bodies - they suddenly think we’re super compatible. Trust me, we’re not. And everyone who’s been on set with us will tell you the same.

“What can I say...“ he shrugs, smirking at me, “I like the fun. I bet Becca doesn’t though.“

I can’t help but huff. Andrew is the only one I’ve ever openly expressed my frustrations with Rebecca to. He was super helpful on the subject, seeing as how he can relate - many partners of his have tried to use him, some of which even succeeded. He’s more than qualified to school me on the topic but it turned more into sharing bad experiences. One of which was that instance back at Corpse’s apartment.

“And neither does Corpse I suppose.“ As though he’s read my mind, he pokes the hurt spot, pouring salt in the wound causing me to visibly cringe as though the pain was physical - because it was, I felt it in my chest and in my gut, a sharp stab of guilt and regret. 

Why did I let it come to that? Why did I let us get so close? How did I not think of the consequences?

“I don’t care if he does or doesn’t.“ My hand automatically reaches for the pocket of the jeans I’m not even wearing in search of a cigarette. Not that I’d be able to light one even if I had them on me - Andrew would smack it out of my hand before I could even take a single puff.

He has the audacity to laugh, “You’re such a bad liar, Y/N.”

That’s all he needs to say really - that’s enough to make me feel seen and understood. Though that’s not always a good thing. I often times wish he couldn’t read me so well. Better said: I wish I didn’t let myself be so readable, you know. I’m just glad he’s the one who sees me because if it were anyone else they’d use this vulnerability of mine against me. I’m well aware that it’s a weakness, a really inconvenient one, but damn it I can’t get rid of it. I feel like I’ll be less human if I lose it. Everyone’s allowed to be vulnerable, some just are lucky enough to choose who they’ll be vulnerable around. I’m lucky enough to to have a choice, not so lucky in the people I choose to trust. Guess that’s not a luck thing, it’s just my inability to decipher whether a person is worth all the pain and torture of coming clean to them or not. So far many people have burnt me but two stick out in particular - Becca and Corpse. Corpse especially, which is the odd thing considering he hasn’t even wronged me in any way. At least not yet.

“Your phone’s vibrating.“ Andrew says, pulling me out of my overflowing head when he hands me my phone which I handed to him because of my dress’ lack of pockets.

“Thanks.“ I mutter through a sigh as I take it from him, checking the notification I’ve gotten.

My stomach drops: it’s a message from Corpse.

“Hey I saw you are in LA but we have a stream tomorrow, will you still be participating?“

Before I can reply, he sends me another message.

“I know you’re probably very busy but we get the most viewership on the streams when you’re in them so....“

I’ve probably been staring at my phone screen for longer than I thought since Andrew felt the need to make sure I was still breathing: “Hey, you ok? You look terribly pale.” I can barely hear him let alone reply. I can’t hear my own thoughts to know what to reply to him. “Y/N, you’re scaring me.”

I’m scaring myself too, Andrew. I’m scared too. I’m scared of how broken my picker has become. I almost kissed this guy! I almost entrusted all my thoughts, hopes, wishes and goals to him! What the fuck was I thinking?! Well, at least I know what he was thinking about - viewership. Likes, subs, views, publicity. The more eyes on the stream the better for him and everyone else. I genuinely want to applaud him, no one has been so direct about using me before. I was in a relationship with Becca for almost a year before I accidentally found out what she had been doing the whole time. No one’s ever smacked me in the face with this much honesty. It’s bittersweet really.

I want to laugh, I want to cry, slap myself across the face, slap him...I want to do so much, but all I can do now is sit in silence and think of how I could be so stupid.

He’s just another one, how did I not see that? How do I never see it until it’s too late? Why is one part of me still screaming: ‘He didn’t mean it like that!’

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I WANT TO BELIEVE IT?

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[kcabyap]

Dearest Etienne.

Hi again, I’m having kind of a troublesome day today... not to bother you with my troubles but long story short, due to the pandemic I had been refusing to go out with my “friends” or even visit, and today I saw their posts on Instagram that they had a sleepover without even inviting me ;-;

Can I request a headcanon of the MC finding out their friends back in the human world have kind of removed them from their lives after she’d been in the devildom for so long and the brothers (and if you wish to) the (un)datables comforting them? :x

I particularly enjoy your writing and that’s why I come to you, as always hehe :3

With love,

Emi ♡

P.S: I’m hoping you don’t mind my often requests and that they do not bother you. :>

Dearest Emi! I'm really sorry that happened to you... that was really lame of your 'friends' to do that, though if you ask me, you're absolutely doing the right thing by staying away from others during the pandemic; it's the best way to stay safe. Still though, I really hope you feel better soon and that your day gets better. I absolutely don't mind the requests, and I'm so happy that you like my writing! I did all the brothers, all the undateables, and a platonic one for Luke, and I hope you enjoy! ❤

The Brothers And Undateables Comforting The Human When Their Friends Forget About Them

— The Scenario

Tears stung in their eyes as they scrolled through their social media feed, their jaw clenching. Pictures upon pictures flew past as their thumb idly swiped their phone's screen; pictures of their friends together, laughing, joking, smiling... Pictures of their friends all being happy together during the year they had been away in the Devildom...

Pictures of their friends acting as though they weren't even gone; as though they didn't even exist.

It wouldn't have felt so bad if any of them had really acknowledged them after they'd come back. It wouldn't have felt so bad if they'd gotten more than awkward greetings, a few mildly curious questions before their 'friends' lost interest, one or two awkward get-togethers where they just felt out of place and out of the loop...

As soon as they got a chance to return to the Devildom for a while, they practically leapt on it. They saw no reason to stay in the human world, with a bunch of humans who had forgotten about them so shockingly quickly.

But when they did return to the place that felt more like home than their home did, seemingly their sorrow was still noticeable...

— Lucifer

Nothing gets past Lucifer, least of all the sadness of his most cherished human; he senses it without them saying a word.

He'll offer them an embrace; one that's close, genuine, firm enough to be comforting but delicate enough to not be fearsome.

Whether it's a fancy dinner at the Devildom's nicest restaurant, or a quiet night in his room listening to records, he'll do whatever they'd like to cheer them up.

This man is a wonderful listener and he'll be sure to tell them how very much he and his brothers appreciate them, how foolish their so-called friends were for their actions.

(...though inside, he'll absolutely be plotting for those so-called 'friends' to meet some manner of unfortunate situation...)

— Mammon

His human is upset? Oh, Mammon is not going to leave them alone until they tell him what's up; this man loudly wants to help.

He's absolutely appalled. How the hell could anyone not be happy to be with them?! How could anyone just forget them!? He could never forget them...

Lots of hugs, tight - maybe a little too tight but he means well - and loving and supportive, as he tells them (in his tsundere way) just how great they are.

He'll take them out for a night on the town to forget all about those stupid 'friends,' to remind them of all the fun stuff in the Devildom!

By the time the night's over, there's no way the human won't feel cared about; not when Mammon so clearly adores them.

— Leviathan

See this is exactly why normies don't deserve someone as fun and interesting and cool and cute as MC! (N-Not that he thinks they're cute, don't be stupid...)

He'll talk with them about how much their 'friends' suck; he can relate, there are a lot of people he doesn't get along with too.

Whatever their favourite anime is, Levi's absolutely willing to binge it with them; or whatever their favourite game is, he'll play it with them!

It's in his own shy, stuttering, tsundere way, but he tells them that he'll never betray them like that... they're his Henry, after all.

And... he'll give them a hug. Even though his heart is pounding and he's sweating buckets, he wants to show that he cares.

— Satan

...He's smiling sweetly as they tell him what happened, but it's one of those smiles that is barely hiding his deep and burning anger.

He hates their 'friends.' He tells them how awful those 'friends' are, how they never deserved a friend as beautiful as them, how he'd make them all suffer if he could...

Once they get past his, well, wrath, Satan's happy to cuddle his human close and soothe them by reading them a good book.

If they want to go out, he'll take them along on one of his wanders around the Devildom. The stray cat who goes around recently had kittens, after all!

He'll be extra protective, extra affectionate, to make sure they know that they're always welcomed and loved by him.

— Asmodeus

Pleeeeeeeease, human, please tell Asmo what's wrong! He's going to be pouting and clinging to their arm until they tell him...

When they do tell him, his eyes are angry, and he's immediately stealing them away to his room.

So. Many. Cuddles. He's so physically affectionate, and he'll tell them how wonderful they are in-between peppering adoring kisses over their cheeks.

He's keeping his human to himself! Stress is bad for the skin, so he'll pamper them with skin creams and face masks, and he'll paint their nails and coo over how cute they are...

Again, it'll be impossible to feel unloved when Asmo is around to adore them so much.

— Beelzebub

Beel is a bit like a soft puppy, and the puppy eyes when the human tells him what happened are real.

How could anyone forget about them...? How could they be so mean? The human's the most generous person he's ever met...

He just wordlessly opens his arms and lets them cuddle into his strong form, holding them tight.

He'll cook for them; whatever they want, and in big quantities, enough for them to share as they catch up and joke together.

Words aren't exactly Beel's strong suit, but it's so clear how much he cares, and it's so heartwarming.

— Belphegor

Okay, first the human will have to pry him off of them and wake him up. (Belphie has clearly missed his human bodypillow...)

His sleepy eyes will narrow in anger once they tell him. How dare anyone be so mean to his human...?

He'll assure them that those people never deserved them; those people aren't worth anything, they're not worth worrying about.

Lots and lots of cuddles, his hands gently massaging their shoulders to soothe and relax them...

It's hard to feel upset when you're asleep or being cuddled, and Belphie has them covered for both of these things.

— Diavolo

He... does not understand. How could anyone brush off such a fascinating, beautiful, wonderful person...?

He'll offer a hug, though he'll be a little tentative about it; he doesn't want to hurt his dear human... they're much smaller than him...

Being the prince - and, uh, having a bit more money than sense - Diavolo will happily take them out on the town and spoil them.

In fact... he'll throw an entire ball in their honour! The whole Devildom will arrive in his castle to celebrate their return!

Anything to make the human happy... They're so special to him; if they're being treated wrong in the human world, he'll show them that the Devildom loves them.

— Simeon

This man is ready to become the human's literal guardian angel in that moment; he looks so very sad.

His embrace is gentle, warm, and delicate... being hugged by Simeon kind of feels like being hugged by a cloud.

He'll cup their face, telling them that while humans can be cruel, they aren't all like that... but no matter what the humans do, he'll always be there for his favourite one.

If they want to come up to the Celestial Realm with him, he'll do what he can to pull some strings and bring them with him.

That night, he'll read them a bedtime story that he wrote... one about an angel who falls hopelessly in love with a sweet, kind human.

— Solomon

Ah. He sympathises. Other humans can be... difficult sometimes; he's been shunned and forgotten about by people in his time too.

But never fear! He'll cook them a nice dinner! (...it will not be nice, but it will have been made with love.)

He'll try to distract them from how they're feeling by telling them fantastical tales from his long, long life.

But... he'll be sure that they know: in that long, long life, they're the most special person he's ever met.

The human's 'friends' might have hurt them, but not all humans are bad... Solomon's proof of that.

— Barbatos

He knew this was coming, and so he isn't the most outwardly upset about it... though make no mistake, he is upset that they're feeling bad.

Being a butler, he's used to serving, and he wants to spoil the human to make them feel better.

They're going to be treated to tea, cakes... quite literally the royal treatment, from the prince's own butler.

His way of caring is quite reserved, but he makes sure to let the human know how much he enjoys their company, how glad he is that they're back.

And although he doesn't give hugs often... he'll happily make the exception for them, even giving a rarely seen blush and a rarely heard laugh.

— Luke

What?! Their friends just... abandoned them? Didn't want to spend time with them? Ignored them?

He's immediately barking at demanding Simeon to let you hang out with them at Purgatory Hall for a while!

He'll be their friend instead! He'll bake them lots and lots of sweet things, to make them feel better.

He's only a kid, so he isn't exactly the world's best at advice or comfort or anything like that...

But the little guy cares, and he cares loudly, letting the human know that their 'friends' were totally wrong to pass up on such a fun person!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me luke #kcabyap's writing again

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #gods have mercy I wanna smooch him so bad

[prettyboy-asmo]

Obey me! boys with trans masc MC

 Some headcanons about the brothers + Solomon and Diavolo with Trans Masc MC. it’s pretty self-indulgent. Obviously not everyone shares the same experiences with their identity.  I took from my own experiences and feelings about things to write these.

TW: Mentions of transphobia (not detailed and not from any of the main  characters)

Lucifer

It doesn’t actually come up for some time, not until you realize that you two are definitely getting closer to being intimate. 

One night things start to get steamy and when you realize you have to force yourself to not run away. You’re still up and halfway across the room faster than Lucifer thought a human could move. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest, and you have to make yourself look Lucifer in the eyes. 

He’s quick to apologize, thinking he made you uncomfortable- he’s honestly worried he’d hurt you or crossed your boundaries. You assure him that it’s nothing like that. You just need to explain something before things go further. 

If you are nervous about telling him, he’ll wait patiently for you to say what you need to say. Reassures you that it changes nothing about how he feels about you. He only cares that you’re happy and comfortable. 

“I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me. I know humans can hold some troubling views on the subject.” He’s never really understood a lot of the human hang ups on things like this, but he knows it’s a big deal for some to share the knowledge with others, it takes trust.

What he doesn’t say is how happy he is that you trust him that much (how proud he is,) 

Will ask if there’s anything specific you need him to do/not do or anything that you might not have that you want or need. (ie: new binder if you haven’t had top surgery, do you want top surgery? He can make it happen.)

If you’re having a particularly bad time with dysphoria, he’ll straight up ask if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’ll also be sure to call you by your name, or specifically masculine terms 

Someone misgenders you on purpose? He doesn’t hesitate to set them straight. No one’s foolish enough to do it again. 

Mammon:

He finds out on accident. You’re changing when he barges in your room, saying something about being late for breakfast in his usual loud manner. 

He freezes when he finally looks at you, Sees your binder or your scars but honestly it doesn’t really register bc holy shit his human is half dressed and standing in front of him and-poor boy is blushing so hard and is silent because he’s certain he’ll make a fool of himself. 

It hadn’t occurred to you until he went quiet that he didn’t know already. 

You finish getting dressed and his silence is worrying you at this point. You quietly ask him if he’d like for you to stop hanging around him

That manages to snap him out of his daze and he looks utterly confused. “Why would ya think that?” You try to explain that you’ve had people that have stopped speaking to you because you’re trans, or have even tried to tell you it’s wrong. 

“They obviously don’t know anything,” He says, “You’re stuck with the Great Mammon, ya hear? I’m your first guy and you’re my man!” It’s not the first time he’s referred to you as his, but it’s the first time he’s used man instead of human. After that though, he starts doing it more and each time it makes you smile. 

“That’s right, That’s my man!” “What took ya so long, man?” 

If you’re having bad dysphoria he’s very vocal about calling you his man, reassuring you, and asking what you want in that moment. Stay in and just lay around? Sure. find a distraction? He can think of plenty.

He offers you some of his shirts and jackets. “They suit ya,” he insists, even if they’re big on you, “Gotta make sure my man is staying stylish!”  (He won’t admit how happy it makes him to see you wearing his clothes, but you can tell anyways.)

Someone misgenders you to upset you? “What’d you just say to my man?” He’s angry and he’s not about to be quiet about it. 

Leviathan:

You mention it off-handedly while discussing your favorite anime and manga. 

You’d started talking about one that actually had pretty decent Trans rep, lamenting that it wasn’t more popular because of how much it meant to see someone like you-

Levi catches it immediately, but he doesn’t say anything about- It doesn’t change anything he feels anyway. 

He does, however, take time to look for movies, tv shows, games, or anything you might both enjoy that has good Representation. 

When you realize what he’s doing you can’t help but hug him tightly  and kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush.”I’m glad you’re happy.” 

Bad Dysphoria? He’ll drag you to his room to binge anime, play games, and watch movies. He knows the distraction helps.

You’re his Henry, and he’s gonna go the extra mile to make sure you’re comfortable, however he can. 

If you use a binder and find you need a new one, he’s on top of it- He’ll offer to make one for you so he knows it’ll be the right size and it will be good quality. 

Someone misgenders you after being corrected? He checks on you first and asks if you want him to do something about it. If he finds out they did it Maliciously? He’s going to do something about that- reminding everyone in the process that he’s the third eldest (and third most powerful) for a reason. 

Satan:

It comes up when you start spending more time with him- studying or getting book recommendations to pass your free time, You can tell when your interactions shift to something more.

He nods when you tell him, “And your pronouns are He/him, correct?” 

Asks if there’s anything he should avoid doing, anything you don’t like to be called, He wants to know your boundaries then and there so he doesn’t overstep them. 

He spends some time researching. He wants to make sure he understands as much as he can about you, including this- he doesn’t want to ask you directly what your experience in the human realm was, in case it brings up any unpleasant memories. 

You notice the change in his reading list eventually and it makes you feel warm knowing that he’s doing it for you. You tell him if he does have any questions he can ask you. 

He does ask you if you use a binder and if you’re binding safely.

He also asks if Dysphoria is something you struggle with. If you tell him it is, his line of questioning shifts to things he can possibly do to help you deal with it. 

If it’s a really rough day and you admit you don’t want to really do anything, he’ll pick a book to read to you, just so you know he’s there for anything you need, even if it’s just quiet company. 

He also becomes a little more vocal, calls you things like dashing or handsome. 

If someone misgenders you with ill intent? He’s going to deal with it, and it’s not going to be pretty. 

Asmodeus:

He invites you to his room to show you the new outfits he bought. He does it pretty much every time he goes shopping. 

This time the first outfit he walks out includes a skirt. You already know Asmo doesn’t believe in gendered clothing, or adhering to any sort of ‘norm’ but it’s the first time you’ve seen it so obviously in person when it comes to his clothes.

“I wish I could wear something like that,” the words are out your mouth before you register them, and you flush even while Asmo giggles. He offers his closet to you and tells you to try something on. 

Your hesitance must show, because he frowns a little, looking concerned. “I used to,” you admit, “But people kept telling me that I didn’t need to transition if I liked all that stuff anyways.” 

He’s next to you in a second, hand tilting your chin to look at him, “Fuck those people,” he says seriously, “It’s a shame for a man to hide such a delightful body. It’s even worse for him to deny himself things he likes because of ignorant commentary.” 

He ends up making suggestions on what to try on, starting with a simple skirt and shirt combo. 

You stare at the mirror for a long time, turning occasionally to watch the way the skirt flares up slightly when you do. You catch Asmo smiling behind you in the reflection.

“Do you like it?” You catch his eyes in the reflection, nodding, “I missed the feeling. Thank you, Asmo.” 

“Anything for someone as handsome as you,” 

If you’re feeling really dysphoric he’ll try to pamper you- want him to brush your hair? Face masks? A relaxing bath? An entire spa day? New clothes? He wants you to feel good about yourself and he knows self care is the first step. 

He loves to pick out clothes for you to wear, but he always explicitly asks what style you want, because he wants you to feel as good as you look in anything he picks for you. 

If someone misgenders you maliciously or more than once, he’ll have plenty of words with them. 

In fact, as it turns out many of his fans will also have words if they catch wind- Asmo loves posting pics with you on Devilgram and taking you to the Fall, so you’ve also become part of many of his fans' lives too.

Beelzebub:

You feel a little self-conscious surrounded by attractive demons- But Beel is a whole other level. He’s tall and solid muscle, and you're envious of it. 

You know you could never keep up with his workouts, but you ask if you could join him anyways, and if he could give you some pointers on good workouts for specific goals. He agrees right away, more than happy to help. 

It becomes a routine and you look forward to your shared workouts, even if it’s just you both doing your own thing, or Beel giving you pointers on your form or him asking you to record him so he can see how his own form looks. 

You’re so comfortable around Beel, that during one of your afternoon workouts you pull your shirt over your head as you stop to take a break and even out your breathing. 

“It’s not good to wear a binder while exercising for so long.” Beel’s concerned comment takes you off guard for a moment and you flush, unsure of what to say because he sounds so casual about it, and you aren’t really used to it. 

You settle for “Sorry,” and quickly go to tug your shirt back on, but he shakes his head. “You don’t have to. Just rest while I finish up.” 

“You’re doing this for you, right? No matter what, You’re a great guy, so don’t push yourself because other people expect it.”  You’re surprised when he joins you after he’s done and it’s the first thing he says. You tell him it does help you feel better about yourself and you enjoy spending the time with him, doing something you both enjoy. And the smile he gives you is blinding. 

If you’re having a bad time with Dysphoria he’ll ask what you want to do. Workout? Movie and Snacks? Do you need a distraction or do you want to just...be?

He’s well aware of the toxic masculinity that can be present in places like gyms and such. He’s never tolerated it, but there’s a new edge to him if he hears anyone saying something disrespectful or hateful. 

If someone misgenders you, he makes his displeasure known but he focuses on making sure you aren’t upset. (Not many would dare risk making him angry anyways, as quiet as he is he’s still intimidating when he needs to be.)

Belphegor: 

You don’t actually tell him. with how often you end up napping with him he just knows. He doesn’t even say anything about it- he doesn’t see the need to and neither do you. 

He does say something the one time he catches you falling asleep in a binder. “You can’t sleep in that!” he wakes you up and makes you change- he tells you it’s important to have proper sleepwear, a lecture that might even rival one Lucifer's, as he himself begins to doze off. 

After that he makes a point to check to make sure you aren’t wearing a binder before he cuddles up for a nap or for the night (Not that he admits it to you)

He likes to tease you, but he’s always hyper aware of his words. The last thing he wants to do is accidentally say something that might actually hurt you

He doesn’t tend to use overly gendered language with you in the first place, “You’re my nap buddy,” “You make a really nice pillow,” “I like it when you look flustered like that,”

But if he notices/ you tell him you’re struggling with dysphoria more than usual he’ll make the effort to use specifically masculine terms

He’s not the greatest with being open about his feelings but he’ll reassure you if that’s what you need

He doesn’t like seeing you struggling so he asks the best ways to help you feel better, even if he still teases you he’s doing his best to cheer you up or make you more comfortable.

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s making sure you’re okay. He’ll be even more clingy than usual, glare at anyone he thinks looks at you wrong or he’ll simply drag you back home to laze around and cuddle (He tells you he’s tired and just wants to nap, but he really just wants to keep an eye on you in case it upset you more than you showed.) 

He’ll have a discussion with whoever upset you later, anyways. 

Solomon: 

When you realize he’s way older than he looks you’re concerned that he’s gonna have some very archaic views about things. 

Even as you grow closer to him, the thought nags at the back of your mind and it keeps you stuck at a distance despite his obvious flirting. 

He notices, of course. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I can stop if you’d like,” It's a stark contrast to his usual teasing and mystic demeanor, and the serious expression on his face draws some courage from you. 

You manage to tell him without stuttering, and then you flush when you tell him you weren’t sure he’d be okay with that. Saying it out loud makes you feel a little silly- all things considered. 

He hums and tells you he understands, but that he doesn’t care in the sense that if you’re happy and true to yourself that’s what matters most. (It sounds suspiciously like something Asmo would say, but there’s sincerity in his voice and eyes.)

His flirting continues- when he passes you at RAD, when he invites you to study with him, even his messages, simple compliments like “You look rather handsome today,” or teasing “I’m so lucky to sit with the cutest boy in class,” but now that you aren’t worrying about other things, you can finally return his teasing. 

If you’re having a hard time with dysphoria, he’ll ask if he can help. He’ll show up with snacks, movies, books, anything you want to do. He’ll even offer to ask Asmo for the needed supplies for a spa day, if he thinks that might help. 

If someone misgenders you on purpose he’s gonna set them straight. He’s the most powerful sorcerer and he’s not going to let someone disrespect you like that

Diavolo: 

When you arrive in the Devildom, you actually laugh. A few of the people (demons!) standing around you look concerned. 

“I mean, plenty of people told me I’d go to hell but I don’t think this is what they meant.” There’s some surprised looks but no one mentions it past that, really. 

But it does come up in one of your regular meetings with Diavolo, what had started out as short meetings to discuss how things were progressing during your stay had suddenly turned into hours of visiting over tea and Barbatos cooking. 

He asks you what you meant when you’d said that. It wasn’t the first ‘personal’ question he asked you, and you didn’t see a reason not to explain. So you tell him all about your run ins with the wannabe preachers and ‘concerned’ Sunday school moms and the like and how you managed to offend them. 

He looks curious and you tell him to feel free to ask you if he has a question. He has a few, mostly about if there’s anything making you uncomfortable he might not be aware of, or if there’s anything you need that you can’t get in the Devildom. 

He’s genuinely concerned about not having thought about things like this when it comes to the exchange students, and asks if you’d help him make sure the program was improved and friendly towards all. 

It warms your heart to see him so passionate and ready to learn in order to make others comfortable, so you agree without hesitation

Your visits with Diavolo grow in number after that though some of them remain just friendly visits, some are focused on the exchange program and some of them are far more intimate. 

If you tell him you’re having a rough time with feeling dysphoric, he’ll Invite you over to visit and make sure you’re alright- and if you don’t feel like going out? He’ll come to you, a box of sweets from Barbatos and determined to find out if there’s anything he can do to help. 

He’s all about reassurance, “You’re perfect, and I don’t lie, remember?” 

Someone misgenders you intentionally or is just being transphobic in general? He’s quick to shut that down. He makes it known that he won’t tolerate any sort of hate speech or such behavior, and especially not towards you. No one is going to test Lord Diavolo on that, either.

#swd obey me #obey me #Trans masc MC #trans mc #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #om solomon #om diavolo #Tw mention of transphobia #Obey me trans masc MC #obey me hc #headcanon #kinda self indulgent im just starving for content i can relate to

[shadowturtlesstuff]

To-do list

i have no idea when i posted last, it has been a while. sorry, but i have been a little sick and unmotivated but alas, i am back with the normal cressworth. i read a post by @ink-insomnia about thomas making a list with absurd things (kissing audrey rose, being a god amongst men) so i made a fic out of it. it is pure fluff, pure ecresswell being dramatic. enjoy!

Audrey Rose has always claimed I am less organised than her. Despite my plans that surprise her in everyday life, I am more scattered. I disagree of course, Audrey Rose may be meticulous in how she leads her life but I am just the same even if she doesn't realise it. My sporadic ideas are part of my charm. Nonetheless I have devised a plan to help convince my love of her mistake. I shall leave a list of plans on our shared desk, much like she does, in order to show how organised I can be if I tried but I tend to make plans that are open to changes whereas she does not. I also rarely write my plans down but my darling wife loves to sit us down to make plans so she feels comfortable in the knowledge she wont forget an important date. 

~

I watch my ridiculous husband write something at our desk, a small smirk playing at his lips meaning only one thing: he is up to something that will only be bad. I roll my eyes and leave the door quickly before he spots me watching him. We had spent the weekend at Thomas's holiday home, taking a much needed break after one of the longest cases we’ve ever experienced. We were only going to take the weekend off but uncle had decided to take the entire week off so Thomas insisted we do the same. Perhaps that insistence has something to do with what he is writing now. 

Sir Isaac walks out of one of the spare rooms, his room as Thomas claims, despite the beast sleeping in our room and pestering us in every room but that one. However, every time I mention that to him he waves me off saying our little baby needs his own space and it's not his fault he adores us so much he stays with us as much as possible. I smile at the memory of him telling me that he was lying in bed playing with the cat, using one of the many toys he has brought to keep the cat occupied. I had brought up some breakfast for us both, as well as coco for thomas. He gave me a wide smile and came to me as soon as the door opened, taking the tray from me and setting it down, wrapping me in a hug that made sir Isaac jealous enough to start climbing up my leg. He laughed at my scowl and thus began that conversation. 

The cat walks alongside me as I set myself down in the kitchen, resuming the book I was reading earlier this morning. We sit in silence until Thomas enters the room, a smirk that only results in problems, one that he is trying to hide from me. 

I debated just asking him what he's done but he would not tell me so easily. Instead I chose to ignore that smirk and ask: “how are you, love?’”

“Perfect darling, how are you, how is the book?” He sits beside me and starts stroking our cat who purrs loudly at the attention. 

“I’m well, the book is interesting, mostly, though I am wondering whether I should find another for the night.” my own plan formulates as I begin to stand in order to go to our room and find a new book and peek at what he was writing. He holds my gaze with a knowing look. Of course he knows what I'm going to do, but the question is, will he let me? 

To my surprise he does and I make my way upstairs. I place my book on the desk, moving around the papers and finding what could be what he wrote today. It is a list. I bite back a laugh as I begin to read.                         

 To-do list

-Be a god amongst men (as always)

-Get Audrey Rose to call me a scoundrel

-Kiss Audrey Rose

No longer do I bite back my laugh. My husband took to heart my complaints about his jokes about lists. Well, almost. In his own fashion of course. I put it back and go to our bookshelf to find another book, contemplating whether or not to tell him I know his plan or make my own just for fun for him to deliberately find. I was fully aware he knew I would look for it, which leads me to believe he saw me standing in the doorway but refused to look at me. He was infuriating at times, but little did he know I would play his absurd games. ‘A god amongst men’ was completely foolish, and the fact he wrote about kissing me, as if it was some hard task or something that was to plan for. Sitting, I picked up the discarded pen and wrote my own to-do list.                                      

  To do list

-stop whatever my foolish husband has planned

-kiss said husband

-remind Thomas to act his age

I put the list inside the book and walked back downstairs, to the kitchen where there was a familiar sight of Thomas and sir Isaac playing on the kitchen counter. I smiled at the peaceful sight, a wave of gratitude washing over me. Every case, very close calls made me cherish these smaller moments more. Every ridiculous act of Thomas he got to do just to make me smile was something I felt could be snatched away from us so I stood for a second and let them play. I set my book down, opening it so the note was visible but folded so Thomas had to open it up. 

“Found one?” He asks not to turn to face me because our cat demands attention and Thomas always complies. 

“Yes. enjoying playing?”

“Of course,” this time he turned and winked and I nearly blurted out ‘scoundrel’ but I didn't want to make completing his list easy. Instead I sat and moved the sheet of paper and opened the book and began reading. Silence descended for a while until I felt Thomas's hands around my waist. Instinctively I leaned into him, savouring his warmth and love. He kissed my temple as sir Isaac jumped onto the table and nudged my book, forever in need of our attention. Thomas, as usual, obliges by scratching his head then he reaches for the discarded page.

“What is this love?”

“A list, but also a bookmark.”

“Another list?” He smirks at me and flips it open, reading the list and then I hear his laugh fill the room. I should have added to make Thomas laugh, although that is my goal everyday even if I never go out of my way to try and make him laugh. If his laugh was the only sound I could hear I would still be happy. “My love,” he sets the list down, a smile still graces his face as he squeezes my side, “i agree with only one of these, I’m sure you can guess which one.” he adds a wink.

I roll my eyes and mutter scoundrel. Of course he would focus on the kiss and not the fact I implied he is an immature child that is pranking his wife. Again. 

“I have a list of my own, but I’m sure you already know that, and one thing on my list was to hear you call me a scoundrel as it is my favourite word to hear from you. Your filthy mind truly amazes me.” 

I twist and face him, eyes narrowed. “My filthy mind? You are ridiculous Thomas. Why did you make that list?”

“I wanted to understand your obsession with them. I think I do now.” 

I roll my eyes at him but all he does is press a kiss to my forehead. Both of his hands rest on my hips again and he gives me a soft smile. “My love, may I kiss you, and complete something off both our lists?” he asks, moving his head so it rests on mine. My absurd husband makes it hard to be mad at him, or even annoyed. Even though this began with him mocking my habit of making lists, even unintentionally mocking me, i have to admit this has been a fun game and knowing my husband he will keep doing this now as ways to distract us from cases or just to kiss me. Even though he can kiss me at any point now. 

I lean into him, pressing my lips to his and I feel him smile into our kiss. His hands reach up and cups my cheek, his other tightens slightly on my waist. My own hands rest against his chest as he deepens the kiss. We stay like that, lost in each other until our cat nudges my back making me jump. I curse as Thomas laughs at me, sir Isaac finding his way onto my lap. I scratch the little pests' ears. 

“I finished my list before you, I kissed you, you called me a scoundrel and I am always a god amongst men.” he winked at me, picking up sir Isaac and moving to sit across from me. I twist, looking at my own list. He out-does himself sometimes with his dramatic nature. 

“Thomas, neither completed the list, I can never stop your immature games, and you cannot be a god amongst men. It's absurd you even put that.”

“I can, love, and this wasn’t immature, it was-”

“Foolish? Childish?” 

“Okay fine, it was a tad childish, I never meant to mock your list making by the way, I just thought it would be fun and to prove I can make lists to you.” 

“It wasn’t just a tad childish, but Thomas love, I know you can make them you just choose not to, and there are more things we can do than make lists for each other. We needn’t make lists just to kiss each other. We’re married, if you want to kiss me, kiss me.” 

He smirks, the cresswell charm in full effect, “you are obsessed with kissing me.” he leans over the table and kisses me. 

The rest of the week follows similar patterns, sir isaac always interrupting our kisses, Thomas being dramatic and a constant smile on both of our faces. We are both reluctant to leave, to start work again, but we pack our bags and return to our home, uncle already with a case ready for us to uncover.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @loveyatopluto @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

(Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list)

#cressworth #sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #thomas cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #cresswell #wadsworth #sir isaac mewton #kerri maniscalco

[ithebookhoarder]

‘Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know’: Part 2 (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 

Description: After the night in your apartment together, things between you and Javi have been... well... awkward, to say the least. If you didn't know any better you’d say he was actually avoiding you, which isn’t ideal considering you’ve now been partnered together for a raid in the jungle. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: So, ok. I did NOT expect such a lovely and overwhelming response to the one shot I did for this prompt. I was so touched that basically I couldn't resist giving in to @delorena​‘s request for a part 2... and a soon to be released part 3, as this baby was getting long XD Sorry!

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, canon-typical violence, reference to death, references to drugs, threat, my poor ass attempts at translating Spanish, Javi being an idiot (let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist:

It had been a month since that night in your apartment: the night that had seen you waking up next to your partner, Javier Peña. 

Yeah.

Even now, it felt like some kind of surreal dream to think about. It probably didn’t help that neither of you had actually spoken about it since then, simply heading out the door the next morning, off to work like nothing had happened. 

Then again, what had happened? Other than you making a drunken ass of yourself in front of the guy who was both your colleague, but also your crush. It wasn’t like you’d kissed or slept with each other, in the usual sense of the word. Instead, you’d actually just slept. Fully clothed. With Javier Peña. 

If anything, that fact alone should have been enough to tell you not only had nothing happened, it most likely never would. This was the Javier Peña, after all. He normally slept with anything with a pulse. So, despite his confession that night about his recent lack of companions, you were surprised to say the least that he hadn’t made some kind of move. Not then, and not in any of the days since.  

Maybe he didn’t see you as attractive? God. Wouldn’t that be the fucking kick in the teeth you didn’t need. Or, maybe he was just trying to preserve your working relationship? After all, you did spend almost every minute of your waking lives together, watching each other’s backs out in the field and the treacherous world Escobar had created. You couldn’t afford distractions. Distractions could get you killed. 

But even if that was the case, why did it do nothing to soothe the hurt you felt in your gut? A hurt that had been impossible to shift since the moment Javi had woken you that fateful morning and hurriedly shot you a ‘goodbye’ as he ran out the door without you. 

“This way Steve won’t see me leaving your apartment,” he’d explained casually, pulling on his shoes as you watched from the doorway. 

You’d only been awake for two minutes before noticing that the bed had been empty next to you. Not only that, but it was cold to touch, as if no one had slept on it in some time. The thought had made your stomach turn, and you knew you couldn’t entirely blame your hangover for the sudden urge to hurl as you hurried out of bed and found yourself here. 

Needless to say, you were more than surprised to see Javi fully dressed, and almost creeping out the front door like some guilty one night stand. 

A one night stand who’d made pancakes? God. Could this have got any stranger?

“Y/N. You’re up?”

If you didn’t know better, you’d have said he sounded disappointed by that fact. Like, he’d been planning on being gone well before you woke up. That would explain the stack of pancakes and glass of OJ on the side, and the hastily scrawled post-it note beside it. 

- Eat these and drink some water. You’ll feel better.

That was all he’d been planning to give you after last night? 

Not even a goodbye?

Just some home cooked food and a crappy note?

You felt like you had to still be drunk. There was no other explanation for this bizarre scenario, not considering the genuine vulnerability Javi had shown you the night before. Had you dreamt half of the things he’d said and done the night before? After all, for someone who had kissed your forehead and called you ‘querida’ he seemed pretty keen to be rid of you. 

Had he just been pandering to your drunken state? Had he simply not meant it in any other way than friendly? Had you read more into it, hoping for what wasn’t really there in some kind of grief fuelled haze? 

If so, you’d really fucked up and had no one but yourself to blame. It would take more than one good night to prove Javier Peña - the manwhore of Bogotá  - had changed. To think otherwise had been foolish and naive, and most likely due to the amount of alcohol in your system.  

“You not eating? Why make it if you’re not gonna eat any of it?”

“I already ate,” Javi explained hastily, “I hope you don’t mind. I should get going and I didn’t want to wake you yet. I figured you could use the rest after...”

“Yeah, of course,” you’d stammered, blearily trying to make it make sense as you noticed the freshly washed frying pan beside the sink. How long had he been awake? Had he even slept at all? “You uh, you want some coffee before you go?”

“No, thanks. I’ll grab some at work. This way, I can get back to mine and shower before I leave.”

“You can use the shower here, if you want?”

“No, thanks,” he’d repeated, rubbing the back of his neck and hauling on his jacket. If he sensed the sharpness to his tone, he didn’t address it. Instead, he just scoffed as if this whole thing was just some cosmic joke between the pair of you. “Last thing we need is for Steve or Connie to see me coming out of here and start making assumptions about last night, am I right?”

You’d frozen. 

Would that have been so bad? Bad enough to make Javi look like he was trying to escape from sicarios, and not you? 

You didn’t trust yourself to do much more than fake a laugh back and nod in agreement. Burying your hurt was for the best as you thanked him one last time for his help the night before. “I’ll see you in a couple hours, then?”

“Sure thing, Y/N. See ya in a bit.” 

With that, he’d shut the door and left you staring after him, just as confused as you were now, a whole month later.

It just didn’t make any sense, no matter how many times you’d played that night over and over in your head - which was quite a lot, if you were being honest. The sudden lack of leads from Escobar’s men had seen to that, forcing you, Steve, and Javi, to spend a hell of a lot of time stuck at your desks at the embassy, sorting paperwork and trying to find ways to keep yours minds from wandering. 

It was easier said than done. 

No matter how many extras files you offered to handle, you still couldn’t get Javi out of your mind. Not when he was always sat opposite you, smoking away or making conversation with Steve… and occasionally you, but only when he had to - something you’d noticed early on. 

Even Steve had noticed Javi’s sudden aversion to being left alone with you. It was beyond odd, and had lead to him staring at the pair of you with a baffled look on his face as Javi seemed to always find somewhere else to be just as he was about to leave you two alone. 

It was like your own version of hell. 

At this point, you’d almost pay one of Escobar’s men to give you an excuse to get out of the embassy and away from the suffocating tension that lingered between you. 

“What the hell is going on between you?” Connie had pried, barging into your apartment as soon as Steve had filled her in on the latest situation between you and Javi. One look at her determined expression had warned you she wasn’t leaving without answers. “Did something happen the other night? When he walked you home after the bar?” 

With a sigh, you’d told her everything from first to last, hoping she’d be able to make some sort of sense out of it. 

“I just don’t get it, Con. I mean… he made fucking pancakes and slept in my bed. Then the next day, it’s like he can’t even look at me.”

“Did he say anything about it?”

You groaned, busying yourself with opening the bottle of wine Connie had brought with her. It was easier than letting her see the guilt on your face as you replayed your failed attempts to confront the man. 

“I… I haven’t actually asked him about it,” you whispered. 

“Y/N!”

“I know Connie-“

“Are you kidding me?”

“No,” you protested, ripping off the cork and emptying a worrying amount of the wine into your glass. Once you’d deemed your glass full enough for this conversation, you passed the bottle back and tried to ignore her disapproving glare. She looked scarily like your fourth grade teacher when she did that. “I know how it sounds, ok? I just can’t! I chicken out whenever I try and, I have tried! It’s like trying to wrestle an eel trying to get him alone with me for more than thirty seconds.”  

It was Connie’s turn to sigh, running a hand through her hair as she leant back into the couch. “So Steve tells me.” 

“Oh? What else has Stevie been saying?”

“Just that he’s worried about you two,” Connie continued, smirking at the outraged expression on your face. “I’m his wife, Y/N. He’s gonna tell me stuff, and by the sounds of it, you two aren’t exactly being subtle about the whole thing. It’s been driving Steve mad. I had to talk him out of locking you both in a closet until you two worked this out.”

You paused. Oh, Steve was gonna get it next time you saw him. 

And he called Connie dramatic? Locking you in a closet? What was this? Some cheesy telenovela? 

“For a DEA agent, he can be an idiot sometimes. As if that was gonna work.”

“Who knows,” Connie laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “But at least it might have got you two talking again, even if only about how much you both hated Steve. It would have been a start.”

Sure, but the start of what? 

You weren’t sure anymore of where your life was headed, or even where you wanted it to be headed. Your relationship - or non-existent one - with Javi, was just one more murky variable you had yet to decide on. 

Did you even want to fix things? He had been the one to cut you off after all. Why should you go running after someone who clearly didn’t want you, or value you? You were better than that. You were worth more than that. 

Whatever his problem was, it wasn’t on you to fix it. 

“A start of a court case after we murder each other, you mean?” you grumbled, taking another desperate gulp of wine. However, you did your best not to spit it out a second later as Connie said something you’d never thought you’d hear… not outside of your dreams, anyway. 

“Or, the start of a relationship? I mean, honestly, Y/N? I think he likes you.”

“What?”

“I mean it,” Connie hummed thoughtfully. “Why else would he spook like this? I saw how he was looking at you that night, gazing at you in the rearview the whole way home. He likes you and knowing him, he probably doesn’t do feelings very often. He’s probably scared to feel like that about someone. Especially, someone he works with.” 

You snorted at the absurdity of it. Did Connie hear herself? She was talking bullshit. Sure, Javi had said that he hadn’t been seeing his informants in his usual sense any more, but he could have been lying. Or, he could have found some other source of comfort. Either way, it wasn’t proof he had feelings for you. Not real feelings. Not feelings that would warrant this level of panic. 

“Holy shit. You sound like my Mom.”

“What?”

“She used to tell me crap like, if a boy’s mean to you it’s because he likes you,” you sniggered, trying to ignore the brief flicker of hope that lingered, even now. ”But he doesn’t. If he’s mean, he’s mean and you should shove him on his ass.”

Connie smirked. “You wanna shove Javi on his ass?”

“Yes, no, I mean…” you babbled, caught off by her logic. “I’m just saying, he doesn’t like me. I thought he did, Con, but he doesn’t. End of story. He made it perfectly clear when he ran out my apartment like I’d given him a disease. This is Javi, we’re talking about, Connie. You know him as well as I do. He slept next to me and didn’t make a single move the whole night. What does that tell you about how he sees me?” 

“I think it says a lot,” Connie sighed. “And that he has enough of a conscience not to make a move on an upset, drunk, grieving woman.” 

“Be that as it may, he doesn’t get a medal for being a good person.”

“No, but it does tell you a lot about him and how much he cares about you. Why else would he do all that? And, not tell anyone about it either? It’s not like he did it for the good-guy points.”

You hated how right she was. You also hated how this conversation wasn’t making anything clearer at all. If anything, it had just got more complicated. 

It was official: things had been much simpler before Javier Peña had come into your life. 

——

As with most things in your life, there was a certain inevitability about things. Like, no matter how hard you tried to avoid something - or someone - they nearly always ended up catching up with you eventually. Honestly, you didn’t know why you were surprised to find Javi was one of those things. 

Clearly, the universe was done with letting you two try and work things out by yourselves. Fate had got bored and decided to step in and intervene, or so you grumbled quietly, listening to the Ambassador’s orders with horror: You were off on an assignment. 

Not just any assignment either, but a raid. A big raid at that, hoping to bust one of Escobar’s labs located out in the jungle. The intel had come via one of Javi’s informants and had somehow been proven as true enough to act on. But of course, things were never simple. 

Not only were you going on a raid, but you were partnered off in teams with individual areas to take charge of once you hit the ground. It was standard procedure and nothing to throw you off your game, but it was who your teammate was that concerned you. 

None other than Javier Peña himself - a fact that made you wonder if there was any way you could beg Steve into swapping with you. You’d much prefer teaming up with Carillo instead. Even if he was a little cold towards you, at least he didn’t treat you like a nameless nobody. His nonchalance came from professional courtesy, not personal disgust. 

However, you’d never even had the chance to ask. Not when the Ambassador had ordered you all off there and then, piling you into a chopper and dumping your asses on the ground with barely enough time to strap yourselves into tactical gear, let alone negotiate the particulars of the operation. 

At least being out in the field meant Javi had to talk to you. There wasn’t really a way he could avoid it, or even you, given that you were supposed to be keeping each other alive long enough to shut down the operation being run out here. 

One look at the tents and workstations dotted around the surrounding jungle told you this wasn’t going to be easy. There were a lot of workers, and even more weapons between them. Weapons as big and as powerful as your own. 

“Close in on your positions,” a voice ordered, crackling into life over the radio you had hooked up to you. One look at Javi, crouched in the brush beside you, told you’d he’d heard loud and clear. The well-rehearsed signal his hand made, followed by a slow nod, also told you he was ready to move in on the specific area your pair had been told to target. 

“Stay close,” he whispered, almost as if it was an after thought. 

You wanted to roll your eyes, and had you not been about to entire a life threatening situation, you probably would have. Instead, the best you could do was repeat his words back mockingly. 

“You stay close.”

Javi looked surprised by the venom in your voice. 

Thankfully, he was spared the chance to reply as a shout echoed throughout the clearing, sending men charging in all directions, gunfire quick to follow. 

“Go, go, go!”

The command was clear. 

You gripped your gun tightly, raising it and hurrying out of your hiding spot to join the others. Without even looking you could tell Javi was following alongside you, opening fire on the sicarios who were firing back at you. 

You were quick to pick off the immediate threats, choosing your targets and pulling the trigger with a familiar ease that - to this day - made you worry for your soul. Still, as Javi had once told you, it was you or them. When it came down to it, pulling the trigger wasn’t a choice but a necessity. 

You hated the fact his words brought you comfort as you turned and fired a shot at a passing assailant with surprising speed. If only all problems could be removed as easily. 

“Y/N! 9 o’clock!”

You turned, firing again before registering it had been Javi that had warned you. 

So, he did remember your name after all. 

You didn’t know if that made things better or worse between you considering he’d just been choosing not to use it. Either way, you knew the aggression as you stormed through the tarp flaps of the tent wasn’t entirely due to the men you knew would be inside. 

“¡Detener!” you bellowed, watching as Javi mirrored you. “Deje el arma y levante las manos donde pueda verlas.” (*Stop! Put down the gun and put your hands up where I can see them)

“Estas bajo arresto!”  (*You’re under arrest!)

Your voice was loud, even if your Spanish was still a little rough despite being in Colombia for almost eight months. It wasn’t like you had Javi to teach you while you worked anymore, but you knew enough by this point to get by. 

You also knew a remarkable amount of insults and swears - words that were quickly thrown at you by the men in front of you, hands raised and cocaine powder staining their hands from their nearby work stations.  

“Maldita perra americana,” one spat, as if not caring you had a gun pointed at his head.  (*Damn American Bitch)

“Puede que sea una perra, pero soy el que tiene la pistola, pendejo,” you warned, reminding yourself that you couldn’t kill the bastards for simply annoying you. They were unarmed and workers, even if people like these had been behind your sister’s OD. It was their cocaine, shipped in to the US, in packages like the ones surrounding you, that had lead to your sister’s demise. 

(*I might be a bitch but I'm the one with the gun, asshole)

“Sigues siendo una perra-” (*You’re still a bitch)

“Want to say that again? Huh?” Javi barked, surging towards the one who had spoken and grabbing his sweat-stained wife-beater in his fist. With surprising ferocity, he slammed the man back against the wooden pillar in the centre of the tent and pressed his gun into his cheek. “¿Quieres decirme eso a la cara? O eres un bastardo muy valiente o muy estúpido.”

(*Do you want to say that to my face? Either you are a very brave bastard or a very stupid)

“Javi!” you scolded, eyes wide at your partner. Sure, this wasn’t the first time Javi had been a little unorthodox with his methods, but he’d never been so openly violent or unhinged in front of you. He normally left that to Carillo, or at least waited until you weren’t watching. He knew how you hated it. “Javi! Let him go! Just cuff him already.”

“Oh, I don’t know. What’s one more dead asshole?”

The man had the decency to finally look terrified as he whimpered, squirming under Javi as he looked at you, as if begging for you to rein in your partner. 

“I could pull the trigger, here and now. No one would care.”

“No! NO! Por favor. Lo siento.” (*Please. I’m sorry)

“Javi,” you snapped. “Fucking stop, already! What is wrong with you? Jesus!”

Your horror must have finally got through to him as Javi tensed, throwing the man to the floor before looking at you with guilt in his eyes. 

This man was just a puzzle wrapped in an enigma. You could never work him out. Never. After all, this man was the man who’d been treating you like you had the plague, but now? Now he was seconds away from losing it over one sicario insulting you? 

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to it. You’d been called a lot worse by a lot more terrible people. 

What was wrong with him? It couldn’t just be because you were his partner. You were Steve’s partner and it took more than the odd asshole calling you a bitch to rile him up. 

Speaking of your partner, you were pleased to hear his voice interrupting over the radio, speaking to you from his position the other side of the site. It was like he knew something was wrong between them. “Come in, Peña? L/N? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Steve. We hear you,” you replied swiftly, unable to look at Javi as he finally cuffed the guy, beginning to hand him and the other workers off to the soldiers that were now joining you. “This side is secured.”

“Good. We’re headed over to you guys now. We’re just processing how much damn product there is. My bet is it’s worth at least a couple million. Carillo says closer to ten million.”

You scoffed. Typical. You’d been in a war zone a matter of minutes ago, and your colleagues were already placing bets like this was just some game? 

“Put me down. $10 says it’s five million.“

Steve laughed. “You got it. Escobar is gonna lose his shit. Peña?”

Javi was slow to respond, taking a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair. You knew he was trying to look like he was thinking it over, but his eyes gave him away. Even behind his signature yellow aviators. He was too busy staring between you and the floor to be paying all that much attention. 

Suddenly, the tent seemed all the more stifling and it wasn’t because of the humidity of the Colombian jungle. 

“Uh… seven, put me down for seven.”

“You got it! Hurry your asses up and meet us at the rendezvous. We need to fucking celebrate.” 

You were quick to follow his instruction, turning and hurrying out of the tent before you could pass out. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps behind you told you Javi had done the same. Perhaps it was Steve’s promise of celebrating that had him moving with surprising speed as you began to make your way back to the centre of the site, where Carillo would be co-ordinating the effort to wrap this operation up. 

It would take a while, if not the rest of the day, to catalogue everything and start moving the detainees somewhere for interrogation. Even if they were just grunt workers, you knew someone likely knew something that could give you a lead towards catching Escobar. 

That was why you were here, after all. To catch the bastard behind all of this. Not to make friends, or have an adventure, or all the other bullshit you’d been telling yourself since you’d moved down here. This was just a job. One that you’d be glad to finish, sooner rather than later, especially if it meant you didn’t have to deal with the agent walking behind you. 

You could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as you marched across the clearing. It was like he was just waiting to say something but couldn’t bring himself to spit it out. 

That was a first. A speechless Javier?

“You want to tell me what happened back there?”

Your words hung in the air, the offer clear even without you looking at the agitated agent behind you. All you could hear in response was the undergrowth crunching beneath his boots as he took a breath, as if debating whether to answer. 

“Nothing happened.” 

“Oh, really?” 

“Yes, really.”

“So you don’t want to explain to me why you almost went ape shit back there?”  

“I did not,” he huffed, sounding oddly bored by the conversation. “I was merely apprehending a possible threat. He was disrespecting you but also the DEA. You’re not going to make me explain defending a colleague, are you?”

“Like how Steve’s cat was DEA?” you scoffed, disbelief evident as you stopped dead in your tracks and whirled to face him. God. Even through your hate you couldn’t help but admire the way he looked, with his sinful dark green button down clinging to him in the heat. Even with his tactical vest still on, you could see that the top two buttons were undone, which didn’t help matters at all. “All he did was throw a few nasty words my way, Peña. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

Javi looked stunned you’d even suggest otherwise. “I never said you couldn’t.”

“Then why did you-?”

You never got the chance to finish the question. 

You’d barely even opened your mouth to start before you were interrupted by the sudden chorus of startled shouts, echoing across the clearing. Panic was almost tangible in the air as your head turned, staring towards the structure nearest you as a shout of “¡Bomba! ¡Hay una bomba! ¡Todos se mueven! Es una trampa. Va a explotar. Carrera” rang out. 

You weren’t fluent in Spanish, but as you said before, you knew enough words to get by. The words ‘bomb’, ‘trap’ and ‘run’ were definitely clear enough for your heart to race and your eyes to widen in shock. 

Before you could even move, you felt arms wrap around your body, hauling you to the ground as an earth shattering explosion sent the world turning. 

The entire world felt like it shook as dirt and debris erupted overhead, causing you to curl in on yourself tightly. You could only hear ringing in your ears as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. 

A bomb.

There had been a bomb. 

Fuck. Escobar had likely left it as a fail safe in case the place was raided as it had been today. Someone had likely set it to explode the moment your team and Search Bloc had come running out of the trees. 

Oh god. 

A weight was pressed against you, arms holding you close to someone as your world began to righten itself. Only as your vision stopped spinning were you able to realise someone was holding you, shielding your body beneath theirs as they’d thrown you both to the ground. 

The sudden smell of cigarettes, whiskey and cologne told you exactly who it was on top of you. The feel of his hands around you was also a pretty big clue, given how you’d memorised their feel a month ago, when he’d held you similar to this… in a bed… soothing you as you’d drifted to sleep, safe and sound. 

“Y/N?”

Javi’s voice was soft in your ear as he repeated your name over and over until you seemed to acknowledge him. It must have been shock that kept you still for so long, unresponsive as he sat up, releasing you and checking you over with pure unadulterated terror on his face. 

“Y/N? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

“Javi?” you whispered. 

You had to be concussed. Maybe you’d hit the ground harder than you’d thought? There was no way Javi would be looking down at you with such kindness and relief, an expression all too similar to the one he’d worn as he’d put you to bed before. 

The old Javi? Maybe. But this new Javi, the one who had appeared in old-Javi’s place, recently? No. He could barely give you the time of day, let alone do something as monumentally stupid as this. Risking his life to save yours without even hesitating? 

It was enough to make your eyes water.  

“I… I’m fine,” you croaked, pulling away all-too quickly and scrambling to your feet again. The world swayed dangerously, but you weren’t about to give Javi the satisfaction of holding on to him for support. You were fine, all things considered. “You good?”

Javi nodded, also getting to his feet. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

You’d been lucky. A quick glance behind you told you the explosion’s epicentre had been close enough to you both to knock you down, but far enough away to avoid any real damage. Hopefully, no one had been injured… or worse. 

Suddenly, it all became too real, too fast, as you realised what had almost happened. You stared at Javi, trying to prove to yourself that you were both ok. 

He wasn’t bleeding. 

He wasn’t wounded. 

He was simply coated in dirt and sweat, and still looking unfairly handsome for it. 

It wasn’t fair. Not by a long shot, and considering the hellish day you’d had, it was no surprise your temper finally seemed to snap, terror quickly gave way to relief, which quickly gave way to something else… Rage. 

“You asshole!” you seethed, slapping Javi’s arm as hard as you could. The yelp he gave wasn’t nearly as satisfying as you’d hoped for, but his surprise was. He looked at you like you’d lost your damn mind. Maybe you had? Who knew anymore? “You utter asshole, Javi! What were you thinking? Actually, you clearly weren’t thinking else you’d never have been so stupid as to pull a stunt like that back there-”

“Stupid? I was looking out for you!”

“I didn’t ask you to, Peña,” you snarled, pointing at him. “Why would you even care if I got a bit of shrapnel in me? It would do you a favour, actually, if I ended up in the hospital for a few days. Give you a break from me and trying to avoid me.”

“What?” he choked, looking genuinely horrified by your declaration. So much so that it took him a minute to realise you’d started to march away from him, intending on getting back to the others and the hell out of here. “Y/N. Stop. Don’t be ridiculous.”

His hand was warm as it touched your arm, turning you to face him as he had that night in the hallway. Yet again, you were forced to recoil, growling at the pity you found staring back at you. 

“Do NOT touch me!”

“What-?“

“You can’t even look at me for a whole month, Peña, and suddenly you’re willing to be some hero? Taking a damn hit for me? Throwing yourself on top of me like that? How dare you!” you hissed, pure rage and hurt coursing through you as the adrenaline wore off. “I am as capable an agent as you are. I know you don’t think all that highly of people without pricks between their legs, but I don’t need you protecting me. I don’t need anything from you. Not when we both know you don’t care. You made that pretty clear last time.”

Javi blinked, hands on his hips, as if trying to process what the hell was happening. Even through your outrage, you hated knowing that the pain in his eyes was your fault. “Last time? Now wait a fucking minute, if you’re talking about the night Xiomara died-”

“What other fucking night would I be talking about, asshole?” 

“I don’t know! Stop yelling at me and calm down!” 

“I AM CALM!” you screamed, hating the irony of the moment. At least Steve and Carillo weren’t there to witness it. As it was, you could feel the eyes of several officers staring at you as you gave them a show you didn’t need. “Now, why don’t you just do us both a favour and fuck off. You’ve done your hero thing. It worked well last time. Your job is done. Completed. Finished. Wouldn’t want me to think you actually cared about me.”  

“Y/N-”

“No, Javi!”

“Y/N,” he snarled, rooting you to the spot as something cold ran down your spine. The feel of his hand loosely gripping your arm was enough to make your heart stop all over again. “Just… let me explain, ok? Please?” 

You’d hardly ever heard Javi say that word: please. Let alone so desperately, so brokenly, as if afraid you’d say no. That you’d walk away and leave him standing there. 

On one hand, it would have served him right given he’d all but done the same thing to you. However, you didn’t have it in you to be petty, and it would have been petty to carry on this feud just to spite him. To cause him pain. To make him feel how he’d made you feel. 

Was it wrong to want that? 

Was it wrong to not want that? To replace this rage with something better? Something else entirely that would make the ache inside of you go away and allow you to get back on with living your life. 

Then again, how could you? How could you go back to how things had been before, with your shared jokes and hidden smiles? With his habit of bringing you coffee from the place you both liked on the corner, every morning? With his kind words and ability to put a smile on your face even after the darkest of days? 

To go back to that also meant going back to him seeing you as a friend and nothing more. To acting as if the private conversations, and the vulnerability he’d gifted you with in your apartment, hadn’t ever happened. To watching as he drank, smoked, and fucked away any real emotion he had. 

Be that as it may, despite it all, he’d at least acknowledged your existence… 

A minute passed before you took a breath and mustered the courage to look back at him. 

“Ok.”

Javi’s body instantly relaxed as he realised what you’d said. “Thank you,” he sighed, gesturing to the waiting helicopter further down the hill. The invitation was clear. “But… just not here, ok? We can talk back at the embassy or at your place, or mine, just… somewhere private.”

You nodded. You had a feeling you’d both need it for the conversation awaiting you both. 

“Ok. We can talk back at mine. Let’s just get the hell out of here first.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. 

#ithebookhoarder #javier peña x reader #javier pena #javier pena x you #javier peña #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #narcos #steve murphy #connie murphy #prompt #request #part 2 #pedro pascal #narcos imagine #narcos headcanons #narcos x reader

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Daisies (a short “anyone you want it to be with” story) Part II

part I | masterlist

__

According to one of the many dictionaries around the world wide web, the word regret can be described as ‘a feeling of sadness about something sad or wrong, or about a mistake that one has made, and a wish that it could have been different and better’.

No human being is spared of the particular feeling of regret at some point in life, and as such, it exists to teach us new views and ways of doing things differently. After all, we, people are born to make mistakes, to repent and to carry the consequences of things we did or things we do, and in the end, we are made to learn from our experiences. 

Still, humans wouldn’t be humans if there weren’t exceptions, and he knows he is one of them.

As he sits up and reaches out for his watch that had been resting on the bedside table, he adds another thing to, what it felt like, a never-ending list of the things he is going to regret sooner or later. Like hypnotized, he finds himself staring at time as it slowly ticks away – each second feeling heavier than the one before, and it takes him a good, full minute before he blinks and looks down at her.

She has a questioning look on her face, but she doesn’t say anything as she pulls the cream-coloured sheet over her chest, which in return, exposes her smooth leg that he eagerly touched, just a handful minutes ago, but now, it makes him sick just to think about his own behaviour. He feels like an awful person for using her as a distraction; for giving in into yet another act of intimacy that meant very little once the moment of bliss and satisfaction left his body.

But, fight fire with fire, they say.

He gives her a small smile – just a lift of one of the corners of his mouth before he looks away and smoothly gets up to put his clothes back. 

Both his heart and his head were a mess. 

The mess he created with his own behaviour and poorly made decisions.

What are you doing?

He wasn’t supposed to be there, in this minimally furnished bedroom, sitting half-naked at the edge of this enormous bed.

He was supposed to be on the other side of the city, at the airport, just like everyone else who cared about her, and as he slips his t-shirt on, he cannot help but wonder if she even had the tiniest clue about why he couldn’t bring himself to be there? If she expected his absence?

A coward at his finest.

Truth to be told, and he can only be honest with himself when he thinks, he wanted to be there.

He wanted to be there to give her a hug, to wrap his arms around her and breathe in the faint traces of her perfume that seemed to be stuck in every item of clothing she owned – daisies-patterned or not. He wanted to be there for her, like he should, to whisper in her ear to take care of herself and to call him often; to visit whenever.

More than anything, he wanted to admit to her how much he cares, and even if his own idiocy caused her pain in the past, he wanted to be a selfish bastard one last time and ask for another chance for a future together. 

He wanted to tell her how much he wants her, every bit of her; how much he needs her.

How much he regrets that he let her slip away.

If only he had the guts to be there and to be honest with her for once. Maybe she would have changed her mind and stayed? Maybe she would have, just like in the movies, turned around just before boarding her flight? Maybe she would have ran into his arms and he was sure that he would have held her, never letting go.

If only.

He knows that he is being foolish.

To think that some empty words would change her mind and make her stay was the most ridiculous thing to do, because, how can he even begin to ponder that he deserves another chance? That he has any right to be selfish? 

Deep down he knows that he doesn’t, because, when she held her heart on her sleeve for him to take it, he ignored it, pushing it aside; toppling it over with force and shattering it.

Because all the others were more interesting, more exciting, more everything.

He trampled over the field of daisies, leaving a trail of broken stems behind.

How can he even think that some words would make them heal; make them flower again.

“You can stay, you know,” she speaks as she props herself on her elbow.

He shrugs a little, getting up. “I have some plans for later.”

No, he doesn’t.

She doesn’t say anything, but he knows that she’s watching him because he feels her eyes following his every move, but he finds it difficult to look back. Ashamed, disgusted and annoyed with himself – that’s how he feels because he knows how wrong it is to keep this farce of a relationship going; to keep hurting her, to use her as a distraction. Many men and women would have been more than happy to have someone as stunning as she is as their partner, and at one point in his life, he was one of them, but now, nothing about the relationship felt right.

Empty, shallow conversation that didn’t matter, curt answers, with silence filled moments, and occasional sex was all that was left out of them ever since he realised he was in love with someone else. Ever since he began to imagine some other lips kissing him, some other body in his arms, some other fingers crawling at his back; some other breaths and moans against his cheek – his relationship with the girl who watches him curiously as he dresses himself in a dimly lit room he once was familiar with, deteriorated.

Daisies.

When he finally leaves her apartment, clutching his phone in his hand, he isn’t surprised to see several missed calls and few unread text messages – all of which came from the same person – his teammate, and one of the people who tried to take off the blindfold he carried over his eyes.

As his eyes scan over the screen, each line of the text slaps him harder than the previous one.

You should have been here.

You owe her that much.

Are you really not going to show up?

And then, the last slap that knocks him out – figuratively – is the photograph.

Five people that he cared about so dearly, all huddled together as they grinned at the camera, but his eyes stay locked at one face in particular, and that’s when the regret for not being there overwhelms him even more than before.

Is this how it will end? 

Will their story end before it had the chance to begin?

Seeing their faces in that single picture; seeing her bright smile, and those eyes shadowed with sadness – he wishes that he was there as well, next to her, having his arms around his friends, pulling a face or telling a bad pun that would make them laugh before the flash goes off.

The watch on his hand ticks away slowly as he sits in his car, slamming the doors harder than he wanted to. Even if he starts to drive now, breaking every speed limit and ignoring every red light on his way, he wouldn’t be able to get there on time. 

He wouldn’t be able to get there on time to hug her, to say every word that was on his mind; to make her stay.

Like writing a poetry book, he adds another verse of regret, lined up perfectly – one after another as he backs his car onto the road, taking the opposite direction to the one that would take him to the airport.

He was late.

🌼

part III

Hope you liked the second part, there will be third part as well, if not tonight then mid-week. I had a really rough and busy patch at work last week so I wasn’t able to update. Make sure to check out my masterlist (pinned post), and to tell me what you think about this one. As before, I kinda want to tag people here because I think they are all amazing writers and mutuals.

@rosie7703, @emwritesfootball, @avenirdelight, @alexajanecollins, @afootballimagines, @footballerimaginess, @footballxwrites, @just-imagines, @donkeykai​

If I forgot someone, please message me and I will add you :)

#Football Fanfiction #footballer fanfiction #footballer imagine #football imagine #soccer fanfiction #soccer imagine #soccer oneshot #soccer imagines #harry winks imagine #leon goretzka imagine #roman buerki imagine #antoine griezmann imagine #ben chilwell imagine #jesse lingard imagine #marcus rashfoord imagine #hector bellerin imagine #marco reus imagine #kepa arrizabalaga imagine #dele alli imagine #julian brandt imagine #eric dier imagine #dom calvert lewin imagine #mats hummels imagine #marco asensio imagine #james rodriguez imagine #virgil van dijk imagine #you can reblog and add more players #i cannot come up with anyone else