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#so it has poofed from my life
awkwardpossum0 · 11 months
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Sky sketch :D
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pizzabookbuying · 1 year
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it’s really stupid that you can meet someone and it’s so easy to be around them and it feels so big and important and then they’re just…not
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bunny-lily · 1 month
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Satoru, who...
Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~
Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end
The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.
AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet
WC: 3k
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Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.
And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.
He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).
Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.
He has fallen for you bad.
Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.
One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.
Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.
Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.
Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise. 
It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).
Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.
Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs. 
He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.
Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.
When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.
Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.
Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything. 
He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.
Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.
Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real. 
He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.
Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.
He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.
Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.
Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.
Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.
Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.
Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.
Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault. 
But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.
Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.
Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been. 
You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you. 
A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.
Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory. 
Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it. 
On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.
He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.
Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die. 
Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.
Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.
Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.
Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.
Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.
—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-
Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading
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st4rrth0ughts · 1 month
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Aventurine character study that I spewed at my friend posted here bc I despise whoever portrays him as a useless blonde 24/7 horny twink as his canon self (i will throttle you through the fuckin screen)
A/n: I think the 2.1 trailer is helping me regain my writing motivation, expect inbox asks from Jan- Feb to be coming out soon :)
WRITTEN BEFORE 2.1 This post will contain leaks, 2.0 Trailblaze quest spoilers, world quest spoilers, Aven's slave life in canon, disgusting people saying Aven's a sex slave, under the cut! Please proceed with caution if any of these trigger you. Thank you, and enjoy my yap session on one of the best characters in this game.
Aventurine's story is much more than just looking and acting like the typical rich blonde playboy, as much as he gives off those vibes. Looking at his child self in the 2.1 trailer compared to all of his current models, its very obvious that many, many things happened that caused all the light to poof from his eyes.
First, his homeland, Sigonia. Aventurine's home planet's is uninhabited, and perhaps even destroyed completely. Aventurine is the last of his kind left. His parents, his sister, his possible friends and relatives, hell, even all the people he doesn't know have all perished. The IPC took him in, I presume, but most definitely not out of kindness. In fact, it may not matter that Aventurine is one of the Ten Stonehearts, he is not a person to the company. He is just a asset, a piece for them to dispose if he fucks up.
In the 1.4? Belobog quest where Topaz goes to Bronya about Belobog's massive debt to the IPC, and at the end, we get our first crumbs of Aventurine's character. A important thing to note in this dialogue between the two of them is that he asks Topaz to the project manager on his project in Penacony, because if he knows better than everyone that if he fails to get Penacony back into the IPC's grasp, he'll die. There's no way around it, unless he gets someone he has a somewhat close bond with, Topaz, to lighten his fall.
The tattoo on his neck, is a symbol of his slavery to the IPC. How he's bound to them. How no matter how hard he runs or hides, he will never escape their grasp. In fact, he knows damn well, if anyone gets wind of this alongside his Sigonian history (Sigonians are notorious for being wolves in sheep's clothing, bad people in most eyes'), it is very well possible that his rivals and enemies will use his past to their advantage. Thats why he freely shows it to the world. So that no one can dig it up and use it against him, because how do you use something that he so freely proclaims to everyone he meets?
Aventurine is a man who gambles as well. Not just simply gambling for the thrill of it or his earnings. He says it himself, he sees the world, life itself, as a gamble. High reward, high stakes. Even going back to his conversation with Topaz, its only shown on how he tells her he warned her about taking Belobog as her project because it was high risk, but low return. Aventurine wants the best outcome not just for himself, but because if he doesn't get a good outcome, the IPC has no use for him.
Aventurine is a man who knows how to get what he wants. he knows how to take risks, get out of high stake scenarios with him being the winner. Its obvious in his lightcone, 'Final Victor', his conversation with Dr. ratio in the Penacony 2.0 Trailblaze quest, and his conversation with Himeko and Welt about giving up his room for the Trailblazer. He's confident, cocky, if you will. But for good reason.
In the lightcone, its implied it doesn't matter for Aventurine dies or lives. He will always be the winner. Every move is calculated, precise, carried out with clockwork precision and most importantly, planned so well that whether you like it or not, you're letting him win. He manages to get the Nameless, the widely regarded faction, in his debt. He knows damn well how to play his cards. It is extremely impressive. But he is the Aventurine of Stratagems. He knows what he wants and needs, and he will go any length to get it.
The lightcone, again, also shows just how far Aventurine risks, just for him to gain Dr. Ratio as a asset for him to benefit from. He could have gone any route, but what does he go for? Thats right, Russian goddamn roulette. Just for the (I assume) slim chance of Dr. Ratio's trust, or at the very least, cooperation. "I will always be the final victor." I am repeating, but just bear with me here, this just solidifies the fact he is confident in his skills. He doesn't flinch at all when he shoots 3 blank rounds right into his heart, even though there's the 1/6 chance he'll die. He takes risks. Its his character. He doesn't have anything or anyone, much less his own life, left to loose.
The lightcone is also not 'haha funny gay story', as much as it is funny, i wont lie, the memes are fun to look at, but it is not that. Its a story where Aventurine's suicidal tendency shows through, perhaps not so clearly, but its very much there if you look past the story and read into it. Again, Russian roulette, he could have gone for anything else, like a contract or smth, but he knows he has to go through extremes, and this just solidifies the fact of how Aventurine will do anything for assets and trust in him, so his plans can come to fruition.
Aventurine's personality is complicated, like a intricate, deceiving web of lies and emotional barriers to keep him safe. He hides behind the facade of smiles and is unreadable, and his past is all but cheery. A slave, (not a sex slave, twitter+Tiktok users need their brain fucking reworked i will cry) a man branded by the IPC, bound to the till his death is what Aventurine is. The IPC is ruthless, evident from multiple world quests, such as the Aurum Street Alley quest, Belobog's debt quest, Chadwick's quest in Penacony, paints them as bad people, a bad organization in general. Hell, even though Topaz isnt like the assholes we've seen, she's far from an angel herself.
Aventurine has gone through many things to have lost the sparkle in his eyes. Take Childe/Tartaglia from Genshin Impact for example, whom fell into the abyss for months, seen all the horrors of it, had to learn to fend for himself because I'm very sure Skirk did not care for him in a healthy sense. We can either assume Aventurine been through something on the same level during his younger days or perhaps, worse.
And no, he is not Dr. Ratio or Sunday's sex slave, I'm looking at a certain artist on Twitter (fuck off I'm not calling it X), its disgusting. Whoever genuinely enjoys sex slave Aventurine is sick in the damn head, no he would not enjoy that kind of Roleplay, as much as i am downbad and indeed filthy with some of my fics with him.
Aventurine doesn't have anyone he can truly call a friend, ship him with Dr. ratio, Sunday, Boothill (yes, its a thing), Caelus/ Stelle, whoever, but in the end, you cannot say he (as of 2.0, this may change) has any true friends he can trust, not even just a bit. Bonds he forms are transactional, maybe not too much on Dr. Ratio (as evidenced by his dejected his looks after Ratio leaves, either from the insult or bc he truly though Ratio cared) and perhaps on the Astral Express's part, but his bond with Sunday? Yeah, its transactional, 101% unless it changes in 2.1.
All in all, Aventurine is my favourite character, i have never wanted to read, write, understand, watch, hell, I've never wanted to farm and pull for a character as much as him. He is a complex, heavy and deep character that I do not believe many can grasp upon properly when writing stories, headcannons or even smut/nsfw works with him in it (shoutout to those who does tho, I love y'all <3).
Draw or write his fanon self, make him a himbo, tsundere, a rich man who's just a playboy, or a blonde with a pretty face, but you cannot say that is him in canon. I may despise some fanon interpretations, but fuck those who merge fanon and canon. He will never be any of the fanon interpretations i mentioned above, and he never will be in canon. Hoyoverse put their whole soul into this man, i can see it, and its brain damaging on how so many people fetishize his past and water him down.
In speculation of 2.1 and 2.2, if Aventurine does live (he prob will, its unlikely he'll be killed before release, Tingyun is a exception because she released before her death), maybe he'll learn how to start to open himself up again, start to fully trust, starting with Trailblazer as his first true friend. Its cliche, typical protag power bullshit, but it will no doubt, be a huge step in shaping Aventurine back into the man he could have been if his planet wasn't enslaved.
Conclusion: He deserves better, both in- game and how the fandom treats him. I love him, he's my adorable pookie wookie shmookie <33
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futurewriter2000 · 4 months
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My astrology observations:
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Every person with Aquarius placement in their big three pisses me off for poofing away when they're sad. LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU!
Gemini placements talk a lot but nobody knows about what. They are also so funny
Capricorns stare into my soul... They also move SO slow
Leos need a compliment, either from people or themselves.
Sagittarius just don't give a fuck.
Leo women are always late.
Aries rather moves on than fights for you.
Gemini placements can't stand still. LIKE JUST STOP FOR 5 MINUTES! Goddamn, they can be walking from their room to the bathroom 15 times to do what they could have done in one trip.
Scorpios.... There's something about Scorpios that just wants me to make out with them. So hot... And sexy... Plus the eye contact they give...
Aquarius and Pisces are real toxic together. I had witnessed too much of that.
Every Pisces man I met is a coward and a real dick.
Leos could have one friend and still be the bussiest of the Zodiac signs
Scorpios and just being attracted to them
Fire moons usually "overexaggerate" and talk too much during sports games.
Every Virgo I know has stomach issues. They feel through their stomach. They are also one of the most ambitious zodiac signs I know.
Leos are actually quite sentimental. Yes, they want all expensive but bring them a flower and they will put it in their special box of all most important things. Their attitude may be eh but their heart is gold and soft af.
Libra Venus start to become the person they like and they always like somebody so they always change their personalities.
Sagittarius Sun or Risings (not all but most) are usually tall with a dirty blonde and green eyes complex... and nice hips... and ass...
Taurus are so pissed at you and then they will just love you forever and ever and ever and you are their baby.
Pisces? Are you here or did you float away into another galaxy again?
Libra Sun and Risings want to be presented as ✨perfect✨ in society.
I’m afraid of cancers because they are so nice and sweet and all the most wonderful things but I know they can be evil and mean too so I have trust issues with them.
Aquarius are so unbothered and bothered at the same time… like how do you function?
Aquarius Moons are my favourite because they are so fun and so playful and they THINK SO FCKING MUCH.
Virgos are the most stressed out of the zodiac signs because everything has to go their way and when it doesn't they die a bit inside.
Aries moon are explosive af. Like shhhh, use your quiet voice.
Sagittarious moons are so funny to me because they are actually so self-observed but it's the cute kind, you know. I just want to be with them all the time and give them an ego boost because they are so sweet.
Capricorns will never, ever, EVER tell you their next move. They keep their plans to themselves. They keep themselves to themselves. They are here and they are gone.
Gemini placements... cannot relie on them (I have a lot of Gemini placements and I agree. I am unreliable because I think I can manage everything but then I realise I can't and have to cancel 5 plans).
Scorpios are so sharp and hardworking. Nobody realises that but Scorpios will do things AS IT SHOULD BE DONE and they will run you over if they have to. Nothing comes between them and their success.
When leos are comfortable around you, they will never shut up.
Taurus are evil af. They're cute and cuddly on the outside but they have one of the meanest characters. You gotta love them though.
Pisces will not study for an exam but will go in depth to knowing one random thing.
Cancers CAN DRINK! THEY CAN DRINK LIKE NO OTHER! Like damn... how is your liver? They are also a social butterfly and busy all the time. I don't know who said they are emotional and senstitive- they can be such a bad ass.
Sagittarious people are one of the luckiest signs but one thing goes wrong in their life and they will cry for three months about it.
Capricorn women have that alpha female power. I don't care what you say, they will go from the bottom to the top with a snap of fingers and they will be the biggest boss in town.
Virgos are the only of the zodiac signs that will see the gratest potential in you or anything really and they will force you to thrive towards that but if you don't believe in it, they will stop trying.
Scoripios and Leos are the realest friends because they will tell you everything in your face and protect you behind you back. Unless, you did them wrong... then they will tell shit about your back. They're petty that way, so choose wisely.
Taurus live a simple life. They don't complicate their lives too much.
Pisces throw great parties. They are also good cuddlers.
(That's it for now. It has been in my drafts for about two years but like if you want more or not.)
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pedgito · 2 months
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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader
summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]
content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended
author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!
You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.
You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.
He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.
As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.
You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.
Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.
“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?
You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”
And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.
His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.
You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation. 
“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”
You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.
“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”
“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”
A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.
Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”
And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.
“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”
“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”
“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”
“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”
Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.
When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.
He's given you both, but that was beside the point. 
“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.
Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.
“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.
You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.
“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”
Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.
It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.
And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.
Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.
But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.
Only a few more hours to go.
-
The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.
It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.
He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.
“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”
“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”
Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.
Nothing more.
But, he spots the change in your emotion.
Still, he continues on.
“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”
“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”
“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”
“I’ve been trying—“
“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”
You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.
You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,
You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight. 
You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.
“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”
He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.
“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”
“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.
It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying. 
“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”
“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”
You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience. 
“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 
“And?”
Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea. 
“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”
“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.
“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”
“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”
You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.
“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”
His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”
It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.
He means it, no humor in his voice.
“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”
“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.
“But, my car—”
And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.
“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”
You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.
It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.
And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.
“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.
“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”
“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”
Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”
You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity. 
“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”
“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”
It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.
“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”
Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.
“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.
You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.
“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”
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chimielie · 3 months
Text
oh my god, they were roommates
part 2 to and they were roommates. no cws, just silliness.
you're not talking to tooru.
he's not sure how you manage it so effectively. you eat all your meals in your room while he's home, except for when you manage to sneak from there to the door while he's in the bathroom. his only clue that you've gone out is that you leave your bedroom door open when you do, really hammering home how empty his life suddenly is.
"even when we're in the same room," he sighs, resting his cheek on his fist. "it's like trying to grab a fish out of the water. i turn around or blink and poof! gone!"
"your sleeve is dipping into your drink," says his date. "and i really think you need to discuss this with your roommate. at home. alone."
tooru waves goodbye forlornly as they stand up and walks out of the restaurant, leaving behind a half-eaten ball of rice and a broken man.
"you are like a sad, sad," akaashi says, pausing to really linger on the word sad, "wet cat. please stop bringing your dates here to mope about—to them. you are forming bad associations between our business and your terrible romantic etiquette."
akaashi keiji is a mangaka now, or an editor for one, anyway; he works at onigiri miya (tokyo location) on the side because it's the only way he routinely leaves the house; tooru brings his dating drama here to brighten up what must surely be a terribly boring life.
"what would you do without me, akaashi-kun," tooru stretches his arms high with a languid sigh that makes akaashi worry that he has comprehended none of his words. "wouldn't you be so miserable if you didn't have me to bring romance and excitement to your life?"
"i have a boyfriend of several years," akaashi says, which is rude to remind tooru of while he's in such a vulnerable state. "i have plenty of excitement with him in my life."
"inconsiderate!" tooru snorts. "please break up with him to show me solidarity."
"i will not be doing that." akaashi picks up the nameless and now-vanished date's plate and takes a bite out of the leftover food.
"understandable," tooru nods, "that's very reasonable. i just don't know what to do, or how to fix it, or what i did wrong."
"you come in here every other night to whine about what you did wrong."
"do not."
"do too," akaashi sticks out his tongue at him. there's a grain of rice stuck to his lip. "you spent several months going out on dates trying to make your friend-turned roommate jealous—during which, I'll note, you basically exclusively talked about the person you were and continue to be obsessed with—then initiated... romantic physical contact, then ran away. because you have the attachment style of a stray cat."
"ah, akaashi-kun," tooru says. "are you saying i get around?"
"i am saying you are lurking outside the window and begging for attention and then biting the hand that feeds you when you get it.”
“oh.” tooru is quiet for a moment. “can i get the check?”
“it’s on the house if you’ll just go home and talk to your roommate and never come back here with another date.” akaashi says, finishing off the onigiri.
“deal.”
your room is empty, your bedroom door ajar when he comes home. mournfully, tooru sits on the bed, reminiscing over the hours he'd spent gossiping with you here.
he'll just wait for you to get back. when he used to take you dancing—with your other friends, but you'd wind your arms around his neck and he'd run light hands over your waist, your hips, and you would look at him like no one else even existed—you always wanted to leave before midnight. it's ten-forty-nine now, according to his watch, so he's sure you'll be back before long.
you get home at two-oh-four. you had never seen the point in staying out longer when going home and chatting over a bowl of cheesy noodles with tooru was so much more appealing—you didn't want to dance with anyone else anyway. now, though, you don't want to be home, and you have something to prove. to who, you're not sure, but you find yourself staying out later and later.
even though you always return home alone. you'd thought about really upping the ante, about moving on as abruptly as possible, but you couldn't. it felt like going too far in this petty revenge game. after all, you still—
you stop short, dropping your shoes on the floor. the devil is in your bed, lying on his side, knees tucked to his chest to fit his absurdly long frame. his breaths are even and deep, his face peaceful.
"oh, tooru," you sigh, and climb over him to tuck yourself against his warm side.
you blink your eyes open slowly, sleep still gleaming in the corners of your vision. there's a weight on your hip and something that smells really, really good surrounding you, nearly lulling you back to sleep.
"oh, please don't," says a voice you haven't heard in days. "my arm's circulation has been completely cut off. i may never serve again."
you jolt away from the soft source of warmth, which you realize belatedly is oikawa's chest.
"what happened?" you say, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.
he looks frustratingly perfect as always, brown hair rumpled, eyes soft like you aren't in the biggest spat of your friendship.
"i was waiting for you," he admits, leaning on his side and casting his eyes down, his lashes shadowing his high cheekbones. "because i wanted to apologize, to be clear. i must have fallen asleep, and then i woke up, and it was like—"
"yes," you cough. "i see. um."
"i'm sorry," he says. "hey, look at me. i'm really sorry."
"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.
"for being stupid," he rolls one shoulder in a shrugging motion. "for trying to make you jealous and instead just being, like, a complete fucking clown during all of it."
"make me jealous?" you say, blinking at him.
"please don't look at me like that," he says, scrubbing over his face with the hand that's not propping up his head. "it-you make me nervous."
"we've been friends for years," you say, still apparently lost. "how can i make you nervous?"
"you always will," he laughs, but it's strained. "look—i like you. probably more, but i'm trying not to scare you—any more than i already have, i mean. i'm not sorry for kissing you, is what i mean. i should just—i should probably go."
"wait," you say firmly before he can untangle himself from your sheets. putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing yourself up to meet his lips, which are soft and dry and parted slightly with surprise.
the kiss is warm and lingers, even after you pull away. tooru stares at you with dazed eyes that make you shy, dropping your own. his voice is quiet but hopeful, contrasting his words in tone when he speaks.
"what the fuck?"
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nebulaafterdark · 5 months
Text
Exile (Part 1)
Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves
Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY
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It’s a crisp autumn morning when Y/N wakes to a pounding at her door.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
She rushes down, still in her pajamas, flinging open the door to see what the emergency is.
Haymitch, her former mentor.
Haymitch, the town drunk.
Haymitch, her…friend?
“Haymitch, what’s wrong?” Y/N asks, moving away from the doorway as he stumbles in. Clearly intoxicated. Not in his right mind.
“I fucked up.” He snarls, anger rolling off him in waves.
“What do you mean?” Y/N follows him, until he comes to a stop, in her living room, pacing and pacing. Ready to come out of his skin.
“Congratulations, we’re getting hitched.”
“What?!”
“Snow…I don’t fucking know.” Haymitch scowls, “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Haymitch, please, what’s going on?” Her tone is frantic now, to match his own.
“He told me he wanted you to come work in the Capitol and I-“ Haymitch drags a hand over his face. “I lost it.”
“Work in the Capitol? Like as a stylist?” Y/N tries to make sense of it.
Haymitch lets out a bitter scoff, “this is just perfect. You are so- of course I have to be the one to tell you. Of course it has to be me who-” breaks your heart.
“Help me understand.” Y/N puts a hand out towards him. “I need you to tell me. Otherwise I’m clueless and I can’t help you if I’m clueless.”
“Help me? I’m trying to help you!”
“Tell me how.” Y/N tries again. “Tell me how getting married helps me. Or you, or anyone.”
“If I marry you, Snow won’t sell you.” There it is. The truth in it’s horrible entirety.
“He wouldn’t do that.” Y/N gasps.
“He would and he wants to.” Haymitch assures her. “Bad.”
“How do you know that?”
“He told me while I was…”
“While you were what?”
“Do you need me to spell it out?” Haymitch spits, his voice full of venom. “While I was fucking the highest bidder so you didn’t have to!”
Her eyes grow wide, welling with tears. That doesn’t make sense.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that.”
“I’m just,” she fumbles for the words. “I didn’t know. I could’ve married you before and-”
“And what?” Haymitch demands, taking a step toward her. “It’s bad enough that I have to make you my child bride-”
“I’ll be twenty in a few months.”
“And I’ll be thirty.” He says, pointedly. “Before you’re twenty.”
“Ten years and some change is not unmanageable. I’m sure lots of people-”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I get it, you don’t want to marry me. I don’t particularly want to marry you either. But more than that, I don’t want anything happening to you when I have the power to stop it. I know you feel the same way or you wouldn’t have agreed to this when Snow brought it up. If we just work together, we don’t have to be miserable.” Y/N offers, wringing her hands anxiously.
“I want to keep my house.” Haymitch tells her.
“Sure.” Y/N has no qualms about it.
“And my liquor.”
“Of course.”
“What are your demands?” His blue eyes are frantic, wild.
Demands; as though they’re negotiating a business deal. “I want you to be honest with me about what’s happening.”
“Fine.”
“I want you to stop blaming yourself for everything that happens to me. It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll try.”
“And never refer to me your child bride.”
“Deal.”
“One more thing.” Y/N says, it’s more of an afterthought really.
“Name it.”
“I don’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage. I want it to be real someday.”
He narrows his gaze, “ok.”
“Congratulations,” Y/N repeats his earlier sentiment. “We’re getting hitched.”
————————————————————————
The wedding is thrown together in a flash. In under a week, to be exact. Y/N’s family, Madge especially, doesn’t understand.
I thought you hated him?
When you’re older, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.
She protects her, because that’s what big sisters do.
All through the ceremony, the poofy wedding dress scratches at her skin. As if it knows she doesn’t belong.
The crowd of Capitol witnesses is massive, no family or friends. When it is over, the happy couple is escorted to their ‘honeymoon’ suite. A pristine, white room, with ivory bedding; topped with pale rose petals to match.
On the side table, a sealed envelope.
‘Mr. & Mrs. Abernathy,
tonight is cause for great celebration. One to be shared with beloved members of Panem. You will find cameras against the side walls, set to begin commemorating this joyous occasion, at 7:00pm this evening. I am sure you will perform accordingly, to ensure the safety of those you hold most dear.
Best regards,
President Snow.’
“We have to-“ Y/N chokes over the words.
“Tell me what you like.” Haymitch says, shrugging off his suit jacket.
“What I like?” Not this, anything but this.
“Look, we only have a few minutes to get warmed up before those cameras come on, there’s no time to be coy about it. Tell me how you like to have sex.”
“I don’t,” Y/N stammers, “I don’t know. I’ve never-”
“You’re a virgin?” Haymitch pales.
Y/N nods.
“Ok,” he shakes his head, to clear it. “That’s ok.” There’s nothing they can do about it now.
She’s shaking, trembling from head to toe. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re ok.” Haymitch soothes a hand up her arm. “I’ll never hurt you.”
Y/N nods again, “I know.”
“We’re gonna figure this out together, alright? But I need you to talk to me, let me know if you’re uncomfortable or if you don’t like something and we’ll reroute.” He can’t stop this, but he can make it good for her. He can get her through it.
“Ok,” Y/N sighs. Trusting him. Giving herself over to him.
They start with a kiss, his hands cradling her face as the cameras come to life. There are two, fully articulated and seeming to move of their own accord. But clearly they are being operated to catch the best angles.
After a while, Haymitch pulls back, slightly. His lips brushing hers as he murmurs, “I’m going to unzip your dress.”
Y/N startles at the words, toying with the buttons of his shirt. Undoing them to distract herself. She is trembling again.
Haymitch catches her hands in his, peppering them with kisses to calm her.
When they are both down to their underwear, Haymitch lies her back on the bed, situating her against the plush pillows. “Comfortable?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Good,” he half smiles. His lips meet hers, hands coming up to palm her bare breasts.
Her nipples tighten into peaks and she lets out a pretty little gasp.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” Haymitch breathes. “An angel. My angel.” He closes his thumb and forefinger around her left nipple, rolling it between his fingers.
Y/N cries out. She needs- she wants...
“Here.” Haymitch cooes, bringing his thigh flush with her sex.
“Haymitch,” her voice is pinched. Brows furrowed, sweaty and overwhelmed and all but sobbing.
“I’m right here, angel.” He noses at her cheek. “Never let anybody hurt you. Only make you feel good.”
And he does.
So heartbreakingly, mind numbingly good. Lowering his mouth to her right breast.
Y/N works herself to a fever pitch against his thigh. Grinding against him as he licks and plucks at her nipples. Coming apart against the coarse hairs of his leg.
“So pretty,” he encourages her to ride out her high. “My pretty wife.”
Oh. That’s right. She is his wife. The word twists uncomfortably in her gut. She isn’t supposed to like it. But she does. Haymitch is her husband and she is wife and the rest…really just semantics.
Through the cloud of lust fogging up her brain, Y/N registers that he is moving. A peck against her lips and then lower, lower, lower, “oh!” Her back arches, head pressing against the pillow.
He’s going to kill her, Y/N realizes. He’s going to kill her softly, with his face buried between her thighs. With his mouth on her…
“Haymitch,” the sound of her voice is light, dreamy and he sighs into her wetness. She’s going to kill him. God, she tastes like heaven. And sin. Her hands find his hair, holding him tight to her cunt.
“You can move, angel.” He whispers the reassurance into her heat.
Y/N whines, bucking up against his tongue.
“That’s it, sweet girl.” Fuck my face. Use me. Let me make it better.
“That feels so good.” Her brows pull together and her breathing hitches as his fingers join the exquisite torture. Stretching her open, getting her ready for him. Because Haymitch will never let anyone hurt her.
He sends her careening over the edge a second time.
How many times could she possibly-
She’s so wet by the time he poises himself at her entrance, any nervousness nearly lulled to submission.
“Just you and me.”
The head of him slides in easily, her eyes the size of saucers as he reaches her hymen.
He eases a hand between them, thumbing at her clit, soothing her, distracting her. “Just a little pinch.” He coos, feeling her tense. “I need you to relax.”
To her credit, she does try. Y/N is no stranger to pain but this is different, so different. He’s splitting her open, on the inside. “Ahh,” she squeals as he bottoms out.
“There you go.” Haymitch murmurs, sealing his lips over hers in a haughty kiss. He doesn’t move, only his fingers do, brushing her clit incessantly.
Her orgasm catches them both off guard. Haymitch affords her an appreciative grunt as her muscles spasm around him. But he never stops kissing her, drinking her in.
“You can move,” she says, after a long moment.
He fucks her so sweetly her heart aches. Like he loves her, like she’s the most precious thing in the world. Coaxing her slowly towards another climax.
Oh, no, no.
“It’s too much.” Y/N whines.
“I’ve got you.”
“I can’t,” she wails, feeling the coil tighten in her belly.
“You can, I promise.” Haymitch presses his forehead to hers, drawing gentle circles on her swollen bundle of nerves. “Nice and slow.”
Her fingers are in his hair, desperately clinging to him. “I’m-“ going to cum. Y/N realizes, much to her dismay.
“Good girl, angel.” Haymitch kisses her, swallowing her pleasure. “Such a good, sweet, girl.”
She’s overworked, overly sensitive, but his fingers circle and circle her bundle of nerves. Aching and slick with her arousal, the obscene sound of Haymitch moving inside her makes Y/N dizzy. It’s too much, too good and she’s too full.
Hot tears spill from the corners of her eyes and she’s sobbing. Cumming hot and hard all over his cock. Squeezing him, milking him for all he’s worth as she keeps cumming and cumming and cumming…
“Fuck,” Y/N cries, “holy fuck.”
Haymitch presses sloppy kisses to her damp cheek. “That’s fucking perfect, angel.” He empties himself inside her. Slumping against her, hiding her from view of the cameras. Not that it matters now.
She runs a hand along his back, absently.
When the cameras turn off and fold in on themselves, Haymitch pulls away.
Staring at her face, long and hard. Inspecting her for damage. But she looks content, sated.
“How did I do?” She asks, sweetly and he wants to die.
Rolling off of her without explanation and making a mad dash for the toilet. Managing to lock the door behind himself, before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
When he returns, Y/N is curled in on herself, shoulders shaking. This is it, what he’d been afraid of.
He comes around, kneeling on the side of the bed, taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry, angel.”
“I’m sorry. I was just nervous, I’ll do better next time.” Her bottom lip quivers.
Oh, honey. Sweetheart. Angel. Don’t fucking do this to me. “You were perfect.”
“I made you sick.”
“No, please never think that I- that wasn’t because of you. Nothing you did. Just this whole thing is fucked. I didn’t want…to take anything else from you. It’s bad enough that you had to marry me, you shouldn’t have had to- and with the cameras-“ Haymitch breaks off again, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“So you didn’t hate…being with me?”
He shakes his head.
Y/N draws in a shuttering breath, attempting to settle her nerves.
“Come on, let’s get you in the bath.”
————————————————————————-
At her request, Haymitch doesn’t leave her alone. Instead he insists on bathing her.
She hisses as she leans up, the soreness between her thighs making itself known.
“I’ll get you something for that.” Haymitch frowns at the discomfort etched into her features.
A pill. Something for the pain.
“I’m ok,” Y/N shakes her head. I don’t want you to leave me.
“I know.” Haymitch assures her, “but you don’t have to be.” I’m going to take care of you now.
She leans into his touch as he continues running the damp cloth over her skin. “That feels nice, thank you.”
“Anytime.” He won’t let her rub her skin raw, the way he had after the first time he had to- Anything for you.
“I still want it to be real one day.”
“You tell me when it’s real and I’ll ask you to marry me again.”
“K.” Y/N tucks her bottom lip between her teeth.
Haymitch knows he’s in trouble then. When she’s looking at him like that. He knows it as he dries her off, dressing her in an oversized shirt meant for him. Knows it as she cries herself to sleep, curled up against his chest. He’ll burn this world to the ground for her.
Part 2
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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fae zedaph, avian tango, and/or butterfly impulse?
Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. He breathes in. He breathes out. He looks at Zedaph.
"Okay. Why do you have a baby," Tango says.
"Well, it was an accident!" Zedaph says.
"How! How do you accidentally end up with a baby!" Tango says. He pauses. He considers what he has just said. He revises: "How do you or I accidentally end up with a baby! I am a robot and you are an immortal fairy creature. You can't babyificate. I know. You've checked."
"You don't have to sound so haunted," Zedaph says, vaguely hurt.
"I am very haunted by most of what you do, that's not the point. How did you end up with a baby! I can't take care of a baby, Zedaph! You definitely can't take care of a baby! What are we going to do with a baby?"
Zedaph shuffles his feet. When they'd first met, Tango had been reluctantly impressed with how human Zedaph's mannerisms were for a guy who, at that time, still hadn't been entirely certain you weren't supposed to eat people who were rude to you. He's come a long way since Tango had discovered he was just alive enough to be able to accidentally slip into the feywild, and Zedaph discovered he was actually much happier experimenting in the human world most of the time than dealing with other fair folk and their 'predictable rules' and 'annoying laws of hospitality'.
If Tango wasn't mostly made of steel and cold iron, he probably wouldn't have survived the early encounters with Zedaph. Nowadays, though, it's easy to mistake Zedaph for just an exceptionally weird human. Sure, he still looks at everyone a little bit like they're more of an experiment or strange animal than a person, but that's just Zedaph. Even if he were human, Tango's pretty sure he'd follow his own idiosyncratic laws.
None of this explains why he has a baby.
"Okay, look, it's not my fault this time, I swear," Zedaph says. "It's--look, I was in-town, and there was this guy, and he made a bargain with me! It was a very little bargain! I didn't think he'd break it. Honest! He just wanted gold--"
"Oh no," mutters Tango.
"--and I just told him that I wanted him to take care of a sheep for me without looking at it! I wanted to see what would happen if a sheep grew up without anyone looking at it. Would it want to look at other people more or less? You know my problems with sheep and looking at me."
"I hate that I know where this is going," Tango says.
"And he was all like, oh that's easy, I won't break that bargain. And I remembered what you said about how most people don't like having their babies swapped out with fey, which still doesn't really make sense honestly because I think a baby me is WAY more exciting than a baby human to take care of and also then I can experiment with the baby human but that's not the point. The point is that you said most people would avoid that! So I said, okay, if you break our bargain and look at the sheep, I'll come take your first baby. It's a traditional fey thing! I thought he wouldn't do it! I don't want a baby, I want a traumatized sheep!"
"Sometimes I wonder if my inventor knew my life would end up like this," Tango says.
"So imagine my shock when one day I just--poof--I have a baby!"
"I don't know how to take care of a baby," Tango says. "You absolutely shouldn't be trusted with a baby. What do we do with a baby."
The two of them look at the child.
"I mean, I cast a spell on it so it would sleep?" Zedaph says tentatively. "But to be totally honest with you, I don't actually know how long those last. You know how it is with my magic."
"I have decided this is Impulse's problem," Tango responds after a moment. "We give the baby to Impulse. He's a human. Humans know what to do with babies, right?"
Zedaph gives Tango an extremely skeptical look. "I got this one from a human."
"Impulse will suffer with us," Tango says.
"Sold," Zedaph says. "Let's go give Impulse a surprise baby."
"Please don't phrase it like that," Tango says, and they both start heading in the direction of where Tango thinks Impulse is currently living. Surely, he has the solution to this problem. Surely.
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somerandomdudelmao · 11 months
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Okay! Okay! Okay! So! This new update, Casey finds Donnie’s soul in his memory or something! Does this mean that no time has passed for Donnie and he doesn’t know he’s been gone from this kid’s life for like 2 years?!
No, he doesn't. For Donnie it was like "oh my god I'm dying" and then poof, he's in the past with Casey. He doesn't know it's been two years. He doesn't know that the rest of his family is dead. He doesn't know that they've already lost this war.
I mean, he doesn't know yet.
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reverseexorcist · 2 months
Text
❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥
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Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?
➲ Lute + !F!Reader
➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐
➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words
➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far
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➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell
➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face
➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)
➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy
➨ "What is this?"
➨ "A hug?"
➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."
➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)
➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up
➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers
➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)
➨ AND THE MUSCLES!
➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles
➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot
➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)
➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend
➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)
➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost
➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness
➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut
➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while
➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles
➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).
➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it
➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her
➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you
➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you
➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment
➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants
➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks
➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with
➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)
➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.
➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest
➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)
(Spoilers for the finale)
➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack
➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious
➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire
➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm
➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her
➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…
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Rules + Info,
Masterlist,
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screeching-bunny · 9 months
Note
may i request a yandere god/angel? The idea of something so pure..the one thing you have faith in is actually the thinkg keeping u trapped in their obsession bubble is so appealing to me. having no hope left anymore. just them <3
Yandere! God Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
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🌟 Yandere! God embodies profound wisdom and possesses knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. They have a mysterious aura and speak in riddles, often challenging his followers to seek enlightenment and often confusing the hell out of them. He’s very unpredictable and playful. He finds joy in playful interactions and enjoys surprising their followers with unexpected twists while they worship him. He lives for drama and will one hundred percent mislead his followers.
🌟 Yandere! God is starstruck when he first sees you. He can’t believe that such a cutie is worshiping him and is such a devoted follower. Any prayer that you wish for, he immediately tries to make it become a reality. Since he’s an all powerful god, you can best believe that he will misuse his powers when it comes to you. What’s this? You met a cute guy at work and flirted with him? Well too bad he got struck by lightning five times and died on the spot. Truly unfortunately. He’ll do his best to isolate you from your friends and family. You’ll be so lost that the only thing you can do is just pray to him whenever you can. The thought of this has him kicking his feet up in the air and twirling his hair.
🌟 Yandere! God plans out exactly how and when you guys will finally meet in person. After watching you for many hours he wants this moment to be as perfect as possible. He makes sure to be as dramatic and extra as possible, revealing himself in a very flashy way. Some lightning here and there and some cool looking smoke for his entrance. One day your just praying to him and poof he’s out in front of you.
“WHAT THE— WHO ARE YOU?!?”
“Some people want to meet me, some people don’t believe me, and some people claim to be me. I am…?”
“OH MY GOSH YOU’RE BATMAN?!?!”
“Yes it is— WAIT NO!!!”
🌟 Yandere! God eventually stops speaking in riddles around you because of your inability to get the correct answer. It’s just the only way that he can communicate with you properly and have you understand what he’s saying. Don’t worry though he still loves you nonetheless even if you are a total airhead. He will, however, personally tutor you if it ever really comes down to it. He still speaks in riddles to everyone else but you.
🌟 Yandere! God enjoys watching you pray to him. You view him as someone to look up to and ask about life questions. He makes sure to manipulate you by giving you advice that causes you to become a social outcast to the rest of the world. Who needs friends or a lover when you have him? Whenever his servants hear him say these things to you they just side eye him. They don’t try to do anything about it though because there’s no stopping him when it comes to love.
🌟 Yandere! God uses his followers as entertainment. They’re like his own personal reality tv show that he can control whenever he wants. He loves dropping random things on them and watching them freak out about it. Do you remember the time when a bunch of archeologists dug up an ancient rock with diamonds around it? Yeah, that was his badly made art craft that he threw away years ago. Do you also remember that hurricane that nearly destroyed a country a few months ago? Yeah that was also him, he just accidentally sneezed in the wrong direction that day. His followers believe that anything he does has a meaning behind it. Those natural disasters that have been happening recently must be a test from him. When in reality it was just you messing around with the weather because you we bored.
🌟 Yandere! God would make a new flower and name it after you. His love for you is infinite and would like to spend all of eternity with you. When you first met him you thought that he was supposed to be a generous and pure being. It was because of this thought that you never really saw his advances towards you as romantic. You just brushed these thoughts off and thought you were crazy for even thinking this was. When he found out what you were thinking he nearly ripped his hair off.
🌟 Yandere! God uses the idea of enlightenment to forever trap you by his side. Ditch all the people that you once knew and live with him. This is the only way for you to reach your full potential. People are just vial and disgusting so just jump right into his arms. He’s honestly so good a gaslighting that you don’t even question him and just do exactly what he says. To him it’s almost comical but he couldn’t be prouder of you. If you ever tried to gaslight him it wouldn’t work. I mean you can’t out gaslight the original gaslighter. He was literally the blueprint.
🌟 Yandere! God is terrible at cooking. This is understandable because he is a god and doesn’t need to consume food in order to survive. You, however, do need it. He tries his best to cook food for you but whenever you eat his food you always get food poisoning and need to run to the toilet. He always looks so proud when handing you the dishes that he made that you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t want it. So you usually just suck it up and shove it right down your throat.
🌟 Yandere! God is aware that you are a mortal and will one day die. So he tries various ways to make you immortal whether you like it or not. The thought of you dying just pains him and he’d do anything to prevent it from happening. He would destroy and sacrifice the entire universe if it meant that you’d be safe with him. Being with him is so suffocating. He’s like a clingy dog that always bites for attention. There is honestly no quiet moment where you get to be alone in your own thoughts because he is always watching you.
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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 6 months
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Obey Me! Brothers react to: Mc turning into their sheep form to comfort the brother when he's upset.
Lucifer's, Mammon's (you are here), Leviathan's, Satan's, Asmodeus's, Beelzebub's, & Belphegor's reactions.
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Welcome! to another part of this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Mammon's reaction
In game Mammon cries a couple of times, probs more than a couple. Mammon cries over movies or TV shows, or he cries over getting in trouble and being hung from the ceiling by Lucifer. That doesn't mean that Mammon doesn't cry over more personal things. No matter what he's crying over Mammon will get angry and argue if called out for crying. Our tsundere (ive been spelling that wrong for however long now so my bad) will deny crying with his life- "The Great Mammon doesn't cry! I just have something in my eyes. That's all!!" Or "I'm not crying! It's fake! Its just water! I pranked yah' guys!! *running away to cry somewhere in peace*" poor Mams If Mammon and Mc are dating Mammon will eventually calm down and go to Mc for comfort when he's upset, but he'll still respond aggressively if Mc teases him over crying. Not in a beat someone up aggressive more of a passive aggressive being angry way.
The first time Mc finds Mammon crying was by accident. Mammon had been out doing things for the witches, running errands that sort of stuff. When Mammon came home Mc and him were supposed to hang iut and watch a movie. So when Mc knew Mammon would be home they went to his room and barged right in, he doesn't knock and they we're excited to hang out. They didn't expect to see Mammon sitting on his bed sobbing into his hands. Mammon hadn't noticed Mc entered his room until the door shut behind Mc, Mammons head flew out of his hands and his face went red with embarrassment when he saw Mc standing there. Mammon freaks out, he throws pillows in the direction of Mc as he frantically trys to wipe his tears and hide from Mc. Seeing Mammon so dejected made Mc feel sad. Then suddenly *poof* Mc was in their sheep form, without even meaning to be. Mammon immediately stopped throwing pillows and freaking out when he say Sheep Mc. It was less embarrassing crying in front of a sheep, and Sheep Mc is just so cute who can throw pillows at them?
Mammon settled down, sitting back down on his bed, he sighed and placed his face in his hands again. Sheep Mc wandered over to Mammon, placing their tiny trotter (that's what they call sheeps feet) on Mammon's knee. Mammon removes his face from his hands, and even though tears still stream down his face, Mammon smiles at Sheep Mc, finding their adorable kindness to sweet to not smile at. Mammon picks Sheep Mc up gently, pulling them into a hug, he buries his head in Sheep Mc's fluffy wool. The softness of Mc's wool soothes Mammon's feelings, eventually he stops crying. He just sits there hugging Sheep Mc until he explains quietly why he was upset- "This witch l've been running errands for had this pup... Sweet little guy made my day seeing 'em... Ran an errand for that witch today...found out the pup passed a couple days ago.." Mammon's voice is barely above a whisper, and his voice cracks as he talks about it. Mammon doesn't lift his face from Sheep Mc's wool while he talks, causing his already quiet voice to be muffled making what he said almost go unheard. Lucky for Sheep Mc, Mammon's face is burried in their wool on the top of their head, so they were able to hear what he said. Sheep Mc hugs Mammon tightly, telling him it's alright to cry and other comforting things. Sheep Mc lets Mammon pet their wool and they let him hug them for as long as he needs. When Mammon finally calms down he is hella embarrassed. He's going to be on edge and defensive so Mc has to be careful with what they say and do. Staying as Sheep Mc is probably the best option, it makes Mammon feel less embarrassed and he finds comfort in the softness of Sheep Mc's wool. So Mc stays in their Sheep form, Sheep Mc and Mammon watch the movie they had planned to watch and Mammon is his normal self by the time they both head to bed for the night.
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Mams just seems like an animal lover to me tbh. The other brothers reactions is coming soon so Stay tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby!
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡
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starlightdreaming · 1 month
Text
Lucifer x Fem!Reader!
Content warning: ANGST TO FLUFF! :3 REALISTIC themes of REALITY (FROM MY PERSPECTIVE) this is a vent fic but I added my delusions of fluff for comfort, theres slight starvation of oneself (eating disorders right?) (this fic been in the back of my head all week)
(this MADE ME CRY WHILE WRITING I KID YOU NOT)
Synopsis: dealing with reality isn’t easy for anyone, upon walking home one day, you found a mirror, hoping you could sell the mirror for some cash, you discovered something money can’t buy… happiness.
(im craving for fluff)
making a one shot for my delusions
(the song that supported my delusions)
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*Dancing within the mirror* ੈ✩‧₊˚
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Your life wasn’t very pleasing to live, hell, life wasn’t pleasing to live at all, all the stress and endurance was so tiring, going to school, day in, day out was the least of your worries after you graduated.
Every kid has always said, “I can’t wait to grow up and do my own things!” at least once. once.
Now that you are an adult, nothing was as it seemed when you were younger. Yeah, you can do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it but it came with a price.. and that price was money.
Without money, you couldn’t do anything you dreamed of doing, without money, you couldn’t afford the things you even wanted- and to get anything you wanted, you had to get a ‘job.’ it’s the balance of life some say, but to you? it was control, it wasn’t about what you want or what you get, it’s all about having you work for the… them.
those people. the 1% some would call them.
Your mind deteriorated more and more from just not living anymore, just surviving.. you work, get the money, pay your taxes, pay your bills: your car, your electricity, your water, food, housing, insurance- everything.
You sat on the edge of your bed in your cold dark room, the moonlight twinkling in, it’s luminous rays escaping through the curtains at the window, you laid your head down crying and stressed, you can’t continue to survive like this, you just wanted to live.
You watch old shows and movies for comfort, wishing life would never change and forever stay the same, you wanted the world to stop revolving so you can just breathe. You watch cartoons and such, cause it seems they are living much happier than you ever will. Your mind always drifted off to just one day, you can lay in the grass and listen to the soft winds, the trees and grass rustling, dancing together as one with the wind.
You drew characters of your own, characters from your favorite shows and wrote everything your mind would drift off to, to cope with the bleak life that you had.
Sometimes, you wish reality could just.. shift, like if you wanted to live in your comfort characters universe? you could just poof! and then be there, talking for however long you wanted.
You sighed as you turned off your device, going to bed, too tired to do anything due to fatigue from nine hours of labor, you tucked yourself in, playing soft music to help you sleep with some sort of comfort, you closed your eyes to await another lifeless day of nothingness.
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
Another exhausting day at work, you walk home, your car broke down for the nth time, knowing how corrupt reality is, it was intentional by the people who you got it from. Another bill to be paid, just to get your car fixed, just to work more, pay more, just to feed them.
You barely made it through the monthly payments, saving enough to pay them all off but not enough to feed you. You silently walked in the grass, no sidewalks to be seen cause everyone used cars nowadays, never their feet and it made the people who are supposed to run the country (or states), neglect their ideals that they offered the people.
You sighed, exhausted, walking for a whole hour, you decided to rest. You worked nine hours that day, walking endlessly and now you’re here, walking home. You pulled a bottle of water you had with you from your pocket, taking a sip to refreshen yourself, it was less half than empty but it was enough for you to be hydrated for your next other hour you had to walk home. When you drive to work, it’s only eight minutes but walking? it was fifteen times longer.
You got up to your feet to walk again, stuffing the empty plastic bottle into your pocket to find a place to dispose it, not wanting to litter the earth than it already has been from neglectful people who could care less where their trash goes.
Walking past a dumpster, you neared your destination to home, you tried to put in the bottle but as you did, you saw something glimmering in your eyes, you took a second glance at what was shining in the dumpster, there, you see the sun reflecting off a mirror- but not just any mirror, a beautiful one. It looked old and antique but it was so mesmerizing to look at, it had unique designs, embedded with gold, at the top of the mirror, sat an apple, a white snake wrapped around it, it was in quite good condition, not even the glass was cracked, ‘who would throw such beauty away?’ you thought, you wanted to take it home but you hesitated, wouldn’t you look like a hobo if you were to jump in to get it?
You looked in all directions, seeing if anyone was watching, when the coast was clear, you jumped in to get it, trying your best to reach it, without falling in. After a few seconds to a minute or so, you managed to get out scot-free, holding the mirror with both hands, you looked at the distinctive details more closely, it really looked at shiny as gold, you couldn’t tell if it was, you were no genius to know, nor did you have the knowledge to know, all you knew it was dirty from the grime in the dump, it definitely needed a cleaning.
You held the heavy glass carefully, walking down your neighborhood to your home, you put it down gently next to your front door, trying to get your keys to unlock it, when you did, you happily tuck your keys into you pocket, picking up the mirror and walking inside.
The moment you got this mirror, you thought about how it could benefit you, ‘could maybe clean it and then put it on sale at an antique shop or mall?’ you thought, hoping to grab a bit of money to help you probably get something eat for once other than toast and cereal.
You put the mirror in your bathroom tub, getting towels and wipes to carefully remove the dirt from the lined details, sticking your nail covered by the wipe, to chalk the dirt out from deep corners, after a bit, you washed it off carefully with water, holding it gently as to not let it fall and shatter, you turned off the water, grabbing a towel to carefully dry it, not wanting to accidentally scratch the glass somehow.
You took the mirror to your room, holding it with both hands, you sat it down to the ground, making it lean against the wall, you stretched before you took off your work clothes, deciding you wanted to shower after today, I mean, after walking endlessly for two hours at work (not to mention the additional two hours, walking home), and dumpster diving? You definitely could use one. You began collecting comfy clothes to relax in, digging through your drawers, you got just a tee and some shorts and an extra pair of undergarments, you took your clothes, grabbed a towel and left to the bathroom, leaving the mirror alone in the dimly sunlit room.
While you cleaned yourself, unbeknownst to you, the mirror flickered in and out bright yellow auras, the little dust and dusk of yellow floated around the mirror like fireflies, it was glowing at that point, bright yellow, the gold designs that traced around the mirror began to glow as well, and it immediately went out as you entered your room, a towel on your head, you sighed as you jumped into bed, digging out your work clothes that you left on your bed to grab your phone, you tossed your clothes to the side as you laid back down, scrolling through what-not to distract yourself from the loathing pain of loneliness in your life.
From evening to dusk, you blinked lazily, tired of scrolling on social media for hours, you continued to do so until you stopped at a video, a video that was quite a little too relatable. You thought that - that’s when you know it’s time to put the phone down, it’s enough internet for the day, You plugged in your phone, placing it on the night stand.
You shifted under the covers, bringing your pillow to your chest to hold it, hugging it tightly as if it were to ever be your significant other, knowing full well that - that one day, will never come… but it doesn’t hurt to imagine it right?
You hugged the pillow tightly, nuzzling your face in it, looking at the mirror that faced your bed, you laid there silently, feeling the loneliness get to you again, the clock ticking in your room as you waited for sleep to consume you, you closed your eyes, resting your head in the pillow you held, before falling asleep. As you slept, the mirror began to glow again, the same golden aura surrounded it, little small dots of light floating around it again, the light began to glow more, the longer you slept, the small dots of light danced in the air, eventually making it to your bed, the small dots of light gently touched your skin, one even kissed your nose, it made your face scrunch as you scratched it, removing the tickling feeling in your sleep, you then turn the other direction of your bed, faced away from the mirror, the lights backed away from you, like curious little fireflies, they floated around you once again, raining golden dust onto your head as if it were sandman, raining sand onto your head, gifting you the night of pure lofty dreams.
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
You groaned as the morning light from the sun entered the room, waking you up from your dreams, it wasn’t often when you dreamed, usually they’d be nightmares or just plain weird.
You sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep off them, you yawn as you shifted to slide off your bed, walking past the mirror to leave your room, with a quick glance while walking past it, it showed a different person in your reflection, you paused, you stepped back to look again, now puzzled, did you see that right? You look back at the mirror, seeing your reflection perfectly fine, you shook the thought off, thinking it was just you not being fully awake and your eyes were just messing with you, you left your room after that, not thinking anything further about it.
You brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, anything and everything needed to start the day, you grabbed your work clothes and your phone, glancing at the mirror again before taking a photo of it, later deciding to post it on the internet to see if anyone was willing to buy it. You left your house, locking the door, awaiting another repetitive day of your life… wasting away.
You had woke early for a reason, without your car (and the inability to afford an uber, nor risk spending any money), you had to walk to work, it was going to be a long exhausting day but that’s just life, the imbalance of it from what you could see at least.
After a long day of work, the painful exhaustion of walking home, you opened your door, dreadfully, today was worst than the last, you sighed as you went straight to your room, taking your work clothes off and jumping straight to bed, crying.
You curled up in your bed, grabbing your pillow to hold as comfort as you silently sobbed, the sun, slowly fading away from the room, dusking out that the day was nearly gone. You didn’t bother how hungry you felt, you just wanted to cry yourself to sleep, your co-workers were more aggressive today towards you, tripping you and telling you how you don’t seem to put more effort into you job as they do, it even got to the point where they’d report you to the manager, it was only worse when the manager actually believed them! You’d end up being scolded by your boss, not even he tried to listen to your side of the story, making this all the much worse to endure. You wanted to cry at work, you did during all of your lunch break, you spent the whole time crying silently in the restroom, forgetting to get at least something to eat during your time.
You just wished this whole nightmare could be over, you barely had time for your mental health, not to mention the time to do anything else to cope with the repetitiveness of reality either. You cried yourself to sleep that night, not the first of your many rests. It was however, noticed by the mirror you seemed to have forgotten about.
The mirror shimmered softly with light, the same as it did last night, unaware of it’s presence of magic, the light reached your bed, alluring you with comfort as you rested, dots of light danced around your exhausted body, giving you sweet dreams as it did last time, you smiled in your sleep, dreams overflowing in your subconscious as you slept, your body seemed more relaxed when the light tended and touched you, draining the soreness out your body, hoping you’d wake up feeling much better.
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
More often than not, you’d wake up exhilarated and refreshed from the nights before, it bothered you at first but you adjusted to it rather quickly, seeing as you always felt bursted with energy, you could take on the day and go home like you just went through hell to just sleep and wake up feeling alright again. You still haven’t had gotten any responses on anything about the mirror in your room, no one willing to offer for it, it just sat in your room collecting dust, it had been like about a month or so by now, your depressed mind never really bothered with time anymore, seeing as it was pointless, nothing really changes in your life, you don’t even bother with holidays, seeing as there was no one to celebrate with.
After many times and days going through the same thing, you crashed onto the floor in your room, laying next to the mirror. You couldn’t bother getting up into bed this time, everything just felt so tolling, your co-workers were at it again, excusing themselves with how they had families to take care of and you didn’t, they hated how you got paid the same as they did, expecting you to be rich or something by now. You hugged yourself on the floor that night, crying once again, you were facing the direction of the mirror, ignoring it in your vast of self loathing.
You just wished and craved for affection from someone, anyone, just something, anything to stop the pain you felt inside your heart but that would never come, no one cared for you as you hoped that one day they would, you fell asleep on the floor that night, crying yourself to sleep once again, no different than all the other nights that shared the same.
An emitting aura glowed softly again from the mirror, amongst your sleep, brighter than all the times than the last, this time, it didn’t try to comfort you in your sleep, no, this time, it was trying to wake you, wanting you see what it held within itself, the dots of light kissed your face, their bright auras bringing you to wake, you opened your eyes, curious from what the light source was, you sat up from the floor rubbing your eye, “what the..” you say as you blink awake now, you see the mirror glowing with a golden aura, you were bewildered from such a thing being able to happen.
You looked into the mirror before backing away, your reflection making you gasp in shock, you slowly leaned into the mirrors view, looking at your reflection again, it was so different than what you actually looked like, you looked more… demonic? it was creepy, it made your skin crawl, the light that was doting on you, floated around you, catching your attention. You raised your hand out, the little light landing in your hand, you looked and admired its radiance before it flew up and towards the mirror, going straight into it, “wha…” you said rather quietly im confusion and curiosity, the mirror glass sending waves against itself like a water drop landing into water.
You hesitated, you weren’t sure what to do in this situation, when you first got this mirror- you didn’t expect it to be fucking magical!
The mirror calmly whispered a tune, alluring you, you looked at your reflection again, it going from your human self to something else.. You reached your hand out to the mirror, touching the glass but when you did, your hand phased through it, you pulled your hand back in surprise as you watched the mirror glass ripple from movement, you shifted closer to the mirror, the golden light being the only thing that lit up your room in the dead of night.
You put your hand through the glass again, feeling more calm about it, seeing as it was safe, you smiled in fascination, it wasn’t long before someone or something grabbed your hand on the other end, you tried to pull away but it held your writ tightly, you saw a hand hold onto you, covered in black and claws that looked sharp as knives, it pulled you through as your yelp in shock and fear, closing you eyes as you expected to endure some sort of pain coming your way but you didn’t feel any, you felt the warmth of someone’s chest, your hand in theirs, his other on your back, ensuring your safety through the glass.
“Greetings, little duckling.” The man coo’d, you look up to the stranger who caught your fall in confusion, your eyes widened when you realized it was your major comfort character currently, the devil himself: Lucifer. You pushed yourself away from embarrassment, trying to look at your surroundings, seeing as you were in a massive ball room, the tiles on the floor were shining gold as the stairs were cloaked with red, “where am I?” you panic, looking at your body, seeing as your color was different and your body was less humane, “what is happening?” you ask, startled, looking at Lucifer.
He walked closer to you, “hey, it’s okay, you’re safe here, I won’t hurt you,” he reassured as he reached his hand out, patiently waiting for you to take it, you gave yourself a moment to breathe, trying to process everything, you looked at him as he smiled comfortingly at you, waiting patiently for you to take his hand, before long, you took his hand, he leaned toward your hand kissing it gently, a surge of golden light looming from the kiss to around your body. You blinked in surprise and look at your body, clothes had been changed from your work attire to something more extravagant and elegant, you were suddenly wearing a ball gown, you picked up a piece of the fabric of the dress, looking closely at the details it withheld.
“Through that mirror of yours, i’ve been watching you,” he says as he stands up straight again, holding your hand in his, you looked at him, slightly uncomfortable from that statement, his eyes widened at realization as he turned away before scratching his neck, “I mean- I don’t mean in a weird way- like- I was- I just-“ he sighed in defeat, unable to explain his situation correctly, “It’s not what it seems,” he attempts again, looking at you with soft eyes, “it’s just- that mirror is a portal, it’s a portal that only one side could see from, I don’t even have control where it goes but-“ He trails off, “look,” he says, taking both your hands now as you stare at him, patiently waiting for him to fully give you his explanation, “It was something I made long ago,” he attempts again, “I left it on earth for centuries but I still had access to it, from one end I mean.” he pauses as he turns both of you toward the portal, his hand trailing across the glass, changing the location on the other end, you watched with your mouth a-gap, in awe from how surreal this all was.
“I watched many humans through this mirror, good and bad,” he says as he shows many past memories the mirror seemed to hold, “It’s the only thing I have that shows the good in humanity… sometimes.” he says as he cracks a side smile, hoping you aren’t weirded out too much by the whole ordeal.
Letting go of Lucifer’s hand, you lifted both hands to your chest, intertwining your hands together as you walked toward the portal mirror, “so you’re saying..” you spoke as you stared at the glass, “I have a magical mirror in my room?” You ask, turning to him, your dress swaying as you turned, “yeah,” he smiles in relief that you aren’t panicking as he was, “we could go with that.” he says as he walked to you again, “I watched all the nights you cried..” he began as he looked away from your gaze, “I saw how much pain you endured everyday, it was obvious in your eyes and…” he explains to you, his demeanor changing to nervousness as he avoided your gaze, “I tried to make your nights better as you slept, hoping you’d wake up, feeling like your days would be better.” he confesses with a awkward smile on his face as he showed you the golden light in his hands, resembling the same as the light you saw glowing around the mirror in your room.
“So you’re the reason behind why I always felt better in the morning?” You ask, expecting he would confirm your answer, “Yeah.” he admits, rubbing his neck again, you walk up to him, taking his hands in yours as you raised both your hands up together with a smile and a, “thank you.” Lucifer eyes sparkled as he felt a flutter in his stomach, he sort of expected you to panic or something but this was way better, he smiled at you softly, “I saw you crying earlier, worse than ever before,” he says emphatically, he placed of your gloved hands on his shoulder, the other one held with his, his hand was placed gently on your waist as he leaned towards you, “so I thought maybe this time,” he pauses, turning you to a different direction and dipping you gracefully, “I could make your dreams a reality.” he spoke with an ever graceful smile, doting on your beauty.
Your eyes widened in wonderment as he began to move on his own, “wait- I can’t dance-“ you try to exclaim but your feet moved on your own as well, “don’t worry my dove,” he says as he looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes again, “I got you covered on that, just enjoy it, like a dream.” he comforts you, his voice soft and alluring.
He snapped his fingers and you saw a set of ducks with bow ties and orchestrated instruments appearing with them, they sat between the open space of the stairs, “fond of ducks, i see?” you ask, giving him a sided glance with a smile, he rolls his eyes playfully before taking your hands into his again, “not as fond as I am with you tonight,” he says back, smirking playfully as he guides you towards the center of the ballroom, “you’re absolutely stunning tonight.”
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
(prolly too dramatic but it was making me go insane while writing this (fluff is my kryptonite))
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
A melody began to play in the background as you let Lucifer take the lead, looking at him in awe, entranced by his charms and his smile.
He spun with you around the ball room, your dress flowing behind every move you done, you looked at your dress in wonderment, you then looked back at Lucifer who was still giving you doe eyes. You had your mouth opened slightly, still processing that this was actually happening… and with Lucifer of all people.
Watching and feeling every shift both your bodies had made, you both move left and right in circles, you yelped softly in surprise when you began to spin, one of his hands still in yours, bringing you back to him to waltz across the massive golden ballroom, you looked at him again as he gave you a toothy grin, making you smile in pure delight from this dream.
It wasn’t long until golden light began to ignite under his feet, each step he took left a trail of golden luminescence, ducks soon flipped up from under ground as if they went under water to collect food to eat, they swam across the ballroom floor as you both stared into each others eyes, lost within the melody.
You looked down at your own feet in amazement, your own steps were leaving a trail of golden light, those golden trails soon grew into buds that blossomed into lotus flowers, the flowers slowly drifted across the floor, gracefully, like they floated above water. You were mesmerized in such beauty of magic, it wasn’t long until you felt a hand trace under your chin, bringing your gaze back to Lucifer, “eyes on me, my darling.” he says with a soft smile, bringing his hand back into yours.
You felt flustered from his gesture as he sprouted out his wings, all in their grace and beauty, you looked away again as you heard him chuckle a light laugh at your reaction, he closed his eyes as he soaked in the moment, spinning you around again before bringing you in, your attention came back to him as he opened his eyes to look at you, you began to feel light, you looked away for the third time, you saw yourself floating in the air with Lucifer, you looked back at him in a little worry but it quickly vanished away as his gaze comforted you, “I got you.” he says, knowing what was running through your mind.
The golden light still trailed after you both, the ducks and lotus flowers floating up with you both in unison, you were so dazed by how pleasant you felt, your eyes locking with Lucifers, you both leaned into each other, your heads touching, closing your eyes as you began to relax and enjoy the moment, everything feeling so perfect.
You both danced in the air in sync, your steps finally moving as your own, adjusted to the dance, he reeled you out, you spinning out before spinning back in, back into his arms, his wings feathers fluttered gently as you danced in circles, in and out, left and right.
You both leaned out, hands locked as you laughed lightly, making him smile even more that you are enjoying your time with him, he brought you in before spinning you once again, back to him again before dipping you gently, ensuring you won’t fall from his grasp, his eyes were in awe as you smiled, your smile is all he wanted to see after seeing you cry so many endless nights.
He drifted you both back down, the golden lit ducks and flowers following you both as you both twirled around, heading towards the mirror, a trail of ducks and flowers blooming from you both, when you reached the mirror, he dipped you again with one hand this time, his other hand caressing your hair, a soft golden glow luminously flowed in your hair before he gently cupped your face, “until next time, mon chérie.” Lucifer says with a smile and loving eyes, kissing your head lovingly before pushing you carefully into the mirror.
You sit up quickly waking up, the sun shining through your curtains into the bedroom, you looked at your hands, your skin color back to normal, your ball gown gone, ‘it was all a dream.’ you thought, only to frown, believing it was too good to be true, you looked at the mirror on the floor, leaning on the wall as it had always been, you looked at it curiously, you threw the covers to the side, shifting out of bed to walk to it, you picked it up, seeing that your reflection was completely normal, however, a golden lotus laid in your hair, confirming that maybe, it wasn’t a dream after all…
You heard a ‘ding’ on your phone, catching your attention, you put the mirror on your bed carefully, grabbing your phone to look at the notification.
- Hey, that’s a beautiful mirror! It looks super old! antique even! How about $1,500 for it?
You smiled at the notification, that was enough for you to pay most of your bills for this month, you left a response before putting your phone back on your nightstand, picking up the mirror and leaving the room.
- Sorry but I decided not to sell it, thank you for your time though. :]
✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ •✧
thank you for coming to my ted talk.
173 notes · View notes
samptlay · 2 months
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/yandere-3-sagau/707700753307942912/can-i-request-sagau-with-reader-coming-into-teyvat
This
This is perfect
@112-darling~💕
Finished it. Alright, so this is a work of art. I'm so sad it seems abandoned and the creator is not even reblogging anything, so I believe their poof, gone. They will most likely come back eventually but for now, I'll feed your hunger.
Now I completely understand the AU you want me to make. It would be similar to @yandere-3-sagau's, yet different.
This is my rundown of my own AU for this, Simple!Creator!AU :
Now with the way I would have the Reader wake up in Liyue as well, though she doesn't run into a grandpa who takes care of her. She is aware that her blood is golden and she cries crystals, so she could never really be accused as an imposter, there's no worry on that part.
But Reader wants to live a quiet, peaceful life. She no longer has to worry about exams or deadlines. She finds an abandoned family cabin somewhere in the open fields of Liyue, renovating it herself to call it her own. The reader does farm work to get by, and with how much power she holds, all her fruits & vegetables are always sold out the fastest due to how fresh they are.
Word gets around about how amazing your supply is, and of course, eventually, even Zhongli is curious about the commotion.
So when he one day runs into Childe who had just gotten back from your stall and the ginger offers him some of your own fruits, he is, awestruck. Out of his 6000 years of experience, he had never tasted something so sweet & juicy. Not a single taste of bitterness in sight.
This couldn't have possibly been produced by a regular human being.
As an Ex-Overlord (Like An Archon, but we’re thinking of dynamics, such as in Hazbin Hotel) his suspension was too high for his too drop the concern so he hunts The reader down, eventually finds out the truth about who she really is and suddenly becomes as submissive as a loyal dog.
Though it feels nice, it’s not what she wants. So what else then to keep him on a leash, making a pact with him to silence The reader's existence. 
A LOT more happens, the story would be way more detailed but this is just a rundown. Each Genshin Man would discover her secret in different ways, and the reader eventually has them all wrapped around her fingertips.
The men are just happy to have their souls connected with the creators in some way.
I might make the pacts with Archon’s (including Neuvillette) a lot stronger, so they're somewhat more at her mercy, something in that manner.
What do you think? I’d like to hear more ideas and comments about this AU and how it should be constructed.
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Taglist For Those Who Want To Maybe Contribute Ideas. Edit: The reader will be Gender Neutral, though it'll be my first time writing like that so please forgive mistakes.
@uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael
178 notes · View notes
stevieschrodinger · 1 year
Text
Dustin’s crying so loud, Steve can barely hear when Eddie speaks, “trust me, Stevie?”
Eddie’s never called him that before. Eddie coughs again, bloody, and it spatters his lips and stains in between his teeth, mutely, Steve nods.
Eddie grabs Steve by the collar of his own denim jacket, pulling himself up and Steve down. He’s surprisingly strong considering Steve is absolutely certain that Eddie’s about to die. That’s what makes Steve close his eyes and open his mouth; lets Eddie have whatever he wants. Invites it when Eddie invades with a wet and bloody tongue. It’s a battle of a kiss, and Steve soaks it up.
Eddie disappears from under Steve’s hands, and he almost falls forward, Eddie disintegrating into a cloud of fiery ash. It settles, and in the middle, there’s an egg.
It’s shocking enough that Dustin stops crying, “what the fuuuuuck?” Dustin reaches for the egg, pulls his hand back, hissing, sucking his fingers.
Steve reaches for it next, “it’s too hot,” Dustin tries to warn him...but it isn’t. It’s pleasantly warm in Steve’s hand and he lifts it comfortably.
They take it with them.
They have absolutely no fucking explanation for what the hell just happened. Steve, instinctively, refuses to put the egg down anywhere. He sits, staring at it, cataloguing the slightly speckled pattern, watching how it catches the light as he turns it in his palms, pale and diffuse in the lamplight of the lounge.
He doesn’t really like other people touching it, but allows Robin to brush it with her fingertips; she draws them back sharply, hissing, blisters already forming. He carries it with him, even going so far as to showering one handed so he can hold it. He curls around it that night in bed and isn’t even worried that he might accidentally break it; he knows he won’t.
They have a day to recuperate, the party all together again, and safe; Vecna is defeated.
Eddie has one living relative that everyone knows about; Wayne Munson. It’s the only possible place they may get some answers; the trailer is just...gone. They contact Hopper, who contacts Owens, and an hour later he calls Steve back. The trailer was impounded by Owens team to study the damage and now closed gate inside; Wayne Munson is in a Motel.
Everyone piles into the beemer.
Wayne looks sallow when he opens the door, distraught, but in a kind of worn in way. Like he’s already accepted it. No one speaks, they just watch as Steve produces the egg, cupped carefully in his hands. Wayne’s face crumples, his eyes well up, and he pulls Steve into a hug, “thank you. I thought I’d lost him, thank you.”
“Okay,” Steve replies, “but we have no idea what’s going on.”
Wayne shoos them into the room. There’s two doubles, Dustin, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan climb onto the still made bed; not the one that’s clearly been slept in. Wayne sits at the foot of his bed, Steve remains standing, carefully cradling the egg.
“He never told you what he is?”
Everyone on the bed is staring at Wayne wide eyed, Steve almost laughs at them, but he’s too busy shaking his head at Wayne.
Wayne nods, scratching his head, “so how long have you and my Eddie been seeing each other?”
Everyone on the bed turns to look at Steve instead, eyes, if anything, even wider, “we...aren’t. That’s not. We’re not…” The egg pulses hotly in Steve’s hands; for a brief moment, it’s unpleasant.
“You must be something, or you wouldn’t be able to touch his egg. Bound in blood?”
“There was blood, he was coughing up blood...when he was dying and he…”
“They kissed,” Dustin interjects, super unhelpful, “right before Eddie…” Dustin makes the form of an explosion with his hands, “you know, went poof.”
Wayne nods, “it’s enough, this time, for Eddie to come back. But if you don’t complete the bond, he won’t last long. Eddie must love you a hell of a lot.”
“Love me?” Steve asks weakly.
“Yeah,” Wayne says, “phoenix’s mate for life, and they won’t come back for anything less.”
There’s a long, drawn out silence, before Steve, finally offers a weak, “we hardly even know each other.”
“Eddie knows. A phoenix always knows. And you have to complete the bond, or he won’t be able to stay.”
“What?” Dustin asks, panicked, “what do you mean, stay?”
Wayne shrugs, “a phoenix, rejected by their mate, will burn up from the inside. He’ll wither and die unless Steve...reciprocates.”
Steve, weak limbed, just gives up and sits on the floor.
“What about you, Mr. Munson, are you a phoenix?” Dustin’s going to start in with fifty million questions. Steve’s kind of glad, gives him a moment to sit here and...stroke Eddie’s egg.
“Nah, I’m his dad’s brother. Him mom was the phoenix; that’s how she died. My brother wasn’t the best of guys and when he fucked it up...she died. Didn’t take long. Eddie’s a half breed, they can see it on sight, so the other phoenix, they rejected him. He’s been with me ever since. Not human enough to fit in here, not...good enough for them.”
Dustin looks affronted on Eddie’s behalf, “that’s not fair, Eddie’s a great guy. They’re...prejudiced, Eddie’s better off without them, anyway.”
Wayne hums agreeable, “they put a lot of stock in their feathers, what they look like. His mom knew at birth he’d never be accepted, but we had to try after she died. I’d hoped that they would take pity on him but...no. They said his colors were an ill omen.”
“What’s wrong with his colors? What colors? Eddie doesn’t even have feathers.”
“He will when he hatches, and they’ll be black as night.”
Steve figures it’s been around seventy nine ish hours when the first crack appears in the shell. He has no idea if there’s a significance to the amount of time, but he doesn’t interfere. He just turns the volume of the television down low and sits and watches, fascinated, as the crack widens and little, damp, black chick gets itself free. The inside of the shell shines like dark mother of pearl; like an oil slick.
Steve already knows he will hide the egg away and treasure it forever. He had sworn again and again to Dustin that the second Eddie showed signs of hatching, Steve would call him. He couldn’t though. He just couldn’t. Something in him screamed loudly that it would be wrong. It would be so wrong for someone else to be here.
He decides to let them have one night together, just him and the tiny, feather light ball of blackness sitting on his thighs. He’ll call Dustin in the morning.
Steve tries to put Eddie down to go to the bathroom before bed; Eddie chirps miserably the whole time. He walks around on top of the comforter once Steve is in bed, and Steve watches in the lamplight as the tiny chick negotiates the mountains and valleys of Steve's bedding. He falls asleep finally, bored of exploring, nestled against the side of Steve’s neck.
“You said you’d call!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just it was late and-”
“He’s so big!”
“Yeah,” Steve replies. Nothing else to say really. Eddie seemed to have quadrupled in size overnight. He’s now the size of a chicken, covered in long, sleek black feathers. He has a long neck for his size, and his tail feathers sweep along the ground as he follows at Steve’s heels.
“Are you going to go and see Wayne?”
Eddie tilts his head at the sound of his uncles name, watching from his perch on the kitchen counter. Steve had tried him with a bowl of dry cereal, but Eddie had merely pecked at it a couple of times before ignoring it. Steve had added milk and eaten it himself.
“Nah,” Steve replies absently. The thought of leaving the house is...well. Steve doesn’t like it.
The next day, Eddie is the size of a very large turkey and his head, thanks to the long neck, can almost stretch to the height of Steve’s shoulder. When Steve sits on the couch, Eddie flaps up to sit on Steve’s lap, long neck winding around Steve’s, his head looping around to rest on Steve’s chest. His eyes are warm brown, just like Eddie’s human eyes, and Steve isn’t even a little worried about the huge talons or wickedly sharp beak.
On the seventh day, Steve wakes to find a man in his bed with him. He sighs with relief, pulling Eddie closer and whispering, “hello sweetheart,” into his fluffy hair.
Steve assumed they had time, he had hoped they could get to know each other; that Steve could do this properly, but by lunch Eddie is looking tired and has gray hairs at his temples so Steve simply says, “I love you, too,” over coffee and toast and hopes that it’s enough.
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