#‘this place would be dead without you’

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[solarpunkpolliwog]

This was a really lovely read!!! Similar to Green Corridors, I also am a big fan of Greenways- I didn't realize I already knew what they were until I looked into them, but they are essentially the conversion of strips of city to help biodiversity conservation, improve city heat islands (as mentioned in the article), and improve the human experience of living in urban landscapes in a BIG way.

There are a number of historical precedents of people planning cities around nature and people, and the effects make a huge difference. The first time I came face to face with a world designed around those things, I was lucky and privileged enough to join an exchange program to Japan for 2 weeks. I lived with my exchange sibling and their family in Japan, and I got to travel around a lot because of it. The things you see in anime do largely apply to many areas of Tokyo- the city feels a lot more human centric. It's kind of stupidly easy to travel even far distances without a car. The train system is well designed and very punctual and frequent, which allows for a lot more flexibility with travel, and the shinkansen makes it so you can travel far distances so fast it's amazing!

And the cities are so easy to walk through- there's lots of nature, so many little back streets and shortcuts and architecture that feels like they were built for desire paths, and it made for a really fun time exploring and walking and even just finding places to sit and relax as if it was miles from the city in some cases.

Now there's plenty that's not perfect- I did struggle with accessibility in terms of frequent seating areas with chronic pain in really bustling city centers, and the panic of some of the highest density and pushy crowds in areas of the city like Shibuya and Harajuku were pretty bad for my overstimulation issues. But it gives us a glimpse at what amazing city designs could do if we built for preserving nature, and giving a good quality of life experience to anyone who engages with the city.

Back in the U.S. it was kind of startling how terribly our cities are built on the whole compared to this. I've been able to find a couple pockets, towns, and cities that do a pretty good job of these things, but the majority of places that I have ever visited in the United States are extremely inaccessible to things other than cars. Nature suffers, people suffer, and even businesses suffer in some cases.

But work is being done to improve things here though! I found The Rose Kennedy Greenway Park while making a stop on my Amtrak trip 2 years ago, and that was a lovely little highlight. I wanted to take a little wander before my next train, and I went to go on a journey to get some coffee and a mochi doughnut before I headed out, and passed through the Greenway on my walk. It's not like you could pretend you weren't in the city, but the Greenway used to be a TERRIBLE central artery running through Boston that was converted since they were dealing with so many traffic issues.

But now, converted into this park, it was a lovely little experience for me! There were a lot of local flora, little buggies (I heard that there are areas that even have full meadows and beehives for pollinator insects) and people were just sitting and relaxing, and I saw a lot of people walking in that area compared to other areas of the city that I've seen that are just not human friendly to be around.

My little city of Worcester is another sad example of what happens what you let cars and capitalism drive the design of our world. Black top buildings sprawl inefficiently and the city center is dead. Business fronts have been empty for years from driven up rental prices that landlords sit on hoping for a renaissance of big businesses to pay those prices, and no one walks because you would have to walk for ridiculously long times without shade, open businesses to wander into, trash cans, seating, and even sidewalk in some places before you can arrive.

Investing in good city design makes the world so much more beautiful, and I dream of a day where we more intensely invest in living in urban areas and making the experience human and nature-focused so that we can protect wider areas of untouched nature, be closer together, and pool our resources to support all of us no matter what our needs are <3

"With “green corridors” that mimic the natural forest, the Colombian city is driving down temperatures — and could become five degrees cooler over the next few decades.

In the face of a rapidly heating planet, the City of Eternal Spring — nicknamed so thanks to its year-round temperate climate — has found a way to keep its cool.

Previously, Medellín had undergone years of rapid urban expansion, which led to a severe urban heat island effect — raising temperatures in the city to significantly higher than in the surrounding suburban and rural areas. Roads and other concrete infrastructure absorb and maintain the sun’s heat for much longer than green infrastructure.

“Medellín grew at the expense of green spaces and vegetation,” says Pilar Vargas, a forest engineer working for City Hall. “We built and built and built. There wasn’t a lot of thought about the impact on the climate. It became obvious that had to change.”

Efforts began in 2016 under Medellín’s then mayor, Federico Gutiérrez (who, after completing one term in 2019, was re-elected at the end of 2023). The city launched a new approach to its urban development — one that focused on people and plants.

The $16.3 million initiative led to the creation of 30 Green Corridors along the city’s roads and waterways, improving or producing more than 70 hectares of green space, which includes 20 kilometers of shaded routes with cycle lanes and pedestrian paths.

These plant and tree-filled spaces — which connect all sorts of green areas such as the curb strips, squares, parks, vertical gardens, sidewalks, and even some of the seven hills that surround the city — produce fresh, cooling air in the face of urban heat. The corridors are also designed to mimic a natural forest with levels of low, medium and high plants, including native and tropical plants, bamboo grasses and palm trees.

Heat-trapping infrastructure like metro stations and bridges has also been greened as part of the project and government buildings have been adorned with green roofs and vertical gardens to beat the heat. The first of those was installed at Medellín’s City Hall, where nearly 100,000 plants and 12 species span the 1,810 square meter surface.

“It’s like urban acupuncture,” says Paula Zapata, advisor for Medellín at C40 Cities, a global network of about 100 of the world’s leading mayors. “The city is making these small interventions that together act to make a big impact.”

At the launch of the project, 120,000 individual plants and 12,500 trees were added to roads and parks across the city. By 2021, the figure had reached 2.5 million plants and 880,000 trees. Each has been carefully chosen to maximize their impact.

“The technical team thought a lot about the species used. They selected endemic ones that have a functional use,” explains Zapata.

The 72 species of plants and trees selected provide food for wildlife, help biodiversity to spread and fight air pollution. A study, for example, identified Mangifera indica as the best among six plant species found in Medellín at absorbing PM2.5 pollution — particulate matter that can cause asthma, bronchitis and heart disease — and surviving in polluted areas due to its “biochemical and biological mechanisms.”

And the urban planting continues to this day.

The groundwork is carried out by 150 citizen-gardeners like Pineda, who come from disadvantaged and minority backgrounds, with the support of 15 specialized forest engineers. Pineda is now the leader of a team of seven other gardeners who attend to corridors all across the city, shifting depending on the current priorities...

“I’m completely in favor of the corridors,” says [Victoria Perez, another citizen-gardener], who grew up in a poor suburb in the city of 2.5 million people. “It really improves the quality of life here.”

Wilmar Jesus, a 48-year-old Afro-Colombian farmer on his first day of the job, is pleased about the project’s possibilities for his own future. “I want to learn more and become better,” he says. “This gives me the opportunity to advance myself.”

The project’s wider impacts are like a breath of fresh air. Medellín’s temperatures fell by 2°C in the first three years of the program, and officials expect a further decrease of 4 to 5C over the next few decades, even taking into account climate change. In turn, City Hall says this will minimize the need for energy-intensive air conditioning...

In addition, the project has had a significant impact on air pollution. Between 2016 and 2019, the level of PM2.5 fell significantly, and in turn the city’s morbidity rate from acute respiratory infections decreased from 159.8 to 95.3 per 1,000 people [Note: That means the city's rate of people getting sick with lung/throat/respiratory infections.]

There’s also been a 34.6 percent rise in cycling in the city, likely due to the new bike paths built for the project, and biodiversity studies show that wildlife is coming back — one sample of five Green Corridors identified 30 different species of butterfly.

Other cities are already taking note. Bogotá and Barranquilla have adopted similar plans, among other Colombian cities, and last year São Paulo, Brazil, the largest city in South America, began expanding its corridors after launching them in 2022.

“For sure, Green Corridors could work in many other places,” says Zapata."

-via Reasons to Be Cheerful, March 4, 2024

[yanderedrabbles]

Hi, I love your drabbles. May I ask how would the yanderes react if the reader tries to escape or leave them?

'Til Death Do Us Part - yandere boys when you try and leave them

Yandere! Soldier is high strung and suspicious of everything. It just comes with the job. He isn't cruel, and he doesn't like hurting you, but if you make a run for it he won't hold back. Calloused hand crushing your windpipe as he drags you back, he'll remind you that nowhere in this godforsaken city is safer than with him. If he has to keep your hands tied for a few days, he will. Even if the ropes rub your skin raw. If your promise to behave, maybe he'll kiss it better.

Yandere! Cowboy is careful to always keep an eye on you. He ain't a fool - he knows that he frightens you. He knows you deserve a better man than him. But he's too selfish to let you go. He'll grab you jaw and glare at you with those coyote eyes. Whiskey and cigarettes on his breath as he pulls you up onto your tip toes and let's his lips just hover over yours. "Come hell or judgement, you ain't ever leavin' me. You got that sugar?"

Yandere! Boyfriend does not take it well when you tell him you want to take a break, that you need some space. He looks you dead in the eye and simply says, "No." He's the type to stand in front of the door and demand a detailed list of reasons you want to break up. And if he doesn't agree with them- and he never does - he simply will not accept things are over. If you insist on it and nothing he says can sway you, then you'll find out just how cozy he's made the basement.

Yandere! Cop's stalker persona is the exact thing he'll use to get you back into his arms. He knows the way you think, he knows the addresses of all your friends and family, he can track your bank purchases and card swipes. And on top of that, people are more than willing to talk to a cop about a poor, missing girl. And when he catches you, he'll make sure you're so terrified of your stalker that you'll never leave him, ever again.

Yandere! Gangster is helpless to stop you if you want to go anywhere without him. You're his boss afterall, and you'll put a bullet in his head the second he steps out of line. That doesn't stop him from begging to come with you. He's practically on his knees for you and looking every bit the kicked puppy. "Fine," you sigh, running your hands through his hair and letting your nails scrape against his neck, "But only if you promise to behave."

Yandere! Incubus feels his composure slipping the second you ask the abbot to let you leave for another abbey. He'll grab your arm and struggle to hide his claws, trying to reason with you. You're needed here, he'll remind you, and if the Holy Spirit guided you to this place, who are you to go against it? At night, he'll slip into your bed and trace his claws across your belly. He'll nip at your ear with his sharp, sharp teeth and hiss, "Whetever you go, I will always follow."

Yandere! Desert Bandit is the son of the dunes and sand. He knows every oasis, every well, every hidden mountain path. Even if you could make it out of his arms and past his men, the desert itself will lead him to you. He'll laugh when he finds you and boast to his men that his woman is smarter than them all, to have made it this far on her own. But when night comes, you'll find his grip tighter than ever before.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor knows you'll never leave him. The infected are terrifying and the other survivors are even worse. Still, he always keeps a close eye on you when you visit trading settlements - just because you won't leave, it doesn't mean someone else won't try and steal you for themselves.

[neuvilette-tea-party]

₊ ˙ ⊹Steb x F!reader₊ ˙ ⊹

Headcanons Pre-Relationship SFW

I came to realize this format is for shorter stories? But I am an idiot and I cannot stop writing about best boy!

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

As a junior Medic, Steb is your mentor. He silently, but patiently, teaches you. 

Trains with you every day, with a scalpel or boxing gloves. 

Steb is a really good boxer and even better with batons, while you excel in Judo. 

You live life at his pace when you are in the barracks, eating when he eats, training when he trains, sleeping when he sleeps, practicing medicine when he decides it is time to teach you... You become his shadow. 

You practice incisions and stitching wounds on a dummy under his impartial but merciless gaze. He has an unconventional approach to the job himself, but no defective stitches escape his eyes. He asks you to start over each time he finds one, and even if he is instransigent he never refuse to helps, showing you an easier method or a quicker trick.  

You get better and better every day and he appears pleased with you, congratulating you with a nod and a pat on the shoulder. 

When you’re lucky you go on Patrol with him and Maddie, when you are extra lucky only him. But most of the time you are partnered with someone else and you cannot wait to come back to the barracks to train with Steb again! 

He is dead silent but extremely expressive when he wants to be. You learned to decipher every throat muscle contraction, every side eye, every blink, if he uses his third eyelids or not... Every infinitesimal facial twist speaks louder than any word he could say and you’ve gone pro at decoding every single one of them. 

Maddie gets crazy when you have an entire silent conversation with Steb with only raised eyebrows, head tilts, and nods during work. Loris just laughs his ass off at her getting more and more exasperated. 

Steb shows you all the little tricks he learned on the spot and in dire situations, what truly makes the difference between life and death under gunshots, things you do not learn in books or on a dummy. 

He had to stitch some of your wounds after an intense training session, making him softly grin while you sighed deeply, a little bit embarrassed to be so careless. 

You did not know if it was appropriate to eat fish in his presence at first, so you did not. 

He ever so slowly relaxes around you, letting you see his less stoic side from time to time. This is a rarity tho. 

Your unit as a game: the first one to assemble his weapon blindfolded, wins. Steb always beats you with the riffle but you win with the revolver. Loris beats everyone with every weapon. 

Steb keeps you under his wing for months, keeping you company during breaks, playing cards with you, watching movies late at night in the break room, arm wrestling with you when you feel feisty, he cannot beat you to billiards tho but he is good sport. Each days at the barracks you are attached to the hips, so much so that seeing one of you alone raises eyebrows. 

You earned the nickname “Mini-Steb” at the barracks for a time. You find it quite funny but Steb less so. He took the floor, a rarity, and asked your colleagues to respect your individuality and character. This was such a rare occurrence that everyone obeyed without a second word, while you looked at him with round eyes. 

He is a pretty good cook and handles spices at a higher level than any human, that’s why they put a rule in place for him not to spice the dishes himself, this is the only thing he cannot do in the kitchen, cause everyone would have a rough time. You love it when it is your turn to cook with him, Maddie finds it boring because he is even more non-verbal than usual but you love it, you try to match his pace and speed as best you can like a game. 

And because he looks pretty cute in an apron, you have to be honest. 

You discovered Steb had gills on his neck and his ribcage. You noticed the last ones when he took off his shirt during a training session to use the towel on his chest. You went immediately still at that view, completely shocked and hypnotized by that scene. You had to mentally slap yourself to manage to take your eyes off that... beautiful sight and you drank your entire bottle of water in one go, feeling incredibly parched out of a sudden. Maddies asked you why you did not finish your sentence but you could only wipe the sweat off your forehead, trying to make sense of your inner turmoil. 

Him who is usually so modest and rarely if never takes off layers in front of people... You were so unprepared but that sight! 

You both have your habits on patrol, you go to the same cafes, visit the same tea salon and always go to the same bar at the end of a shift. He always asks for a consomme while you change dishes each time. 

You notice that you spoke less and less yourself, mimicking your mentor, finding words more and more superfluous when you could just act on a matter. 

Steb baked you a cake for your birthday, without you having to remind him of the date. 

Excellent chess player, owns several books on different Chess masters that he reads religiously during breaks while also learning to play Go. He goes easy on you with other games but he will hand you your ass without any mercy with those two games. 

You learned he like to spend time in libraries and bookshops during his leaves and crossed paths with him on several occasions with his bag full of new books. 

Never took a puff of tobacco of any sort in his life and heavily avoids any smoking area. His eye twitched once when you revealed to him you tried weed once with friends in high school, but he remained silent, neither approving nor disapproving. 

Drinks alcohol only for big occasions and will limit himself to one glass only. 

Keeps his uniform immaculate, his helmet shiny and his weapons squicky clean. 

Good with cats and animals in general. Owned a bird in his childhood. 

Undisputed champion in the pool. Every once in a while someone thinks that they can outspeed him in water and is immediately proven wrong, but you get the occasion to play the cheerleader to support him each time, so you don’t complain. You handed him his towel when he got out of the pool, water trickling down his well-carved body and your eyes got lost for a second before so much skin, mouth slightly agape before such a spectacle. 

 You are Steb’s perfect assistant in mission, guessing his needs and demands in advance, handing him the correct tools without him having to ask to save your comrades’ or civilians’ lives. You move and think like a single being, creeping out Maddie. She told you you both look like possessed when you save lives together under fire like you were connected like a hivemind. You don't see her problem: you are saving lives! 

After each successful mission on the terrain, Steb pays you a drink, always wrapped in his usual mustism. You take an ale while he usually goes for iced tea or squach, making you giggle as you imagine the thought of the other patrons discovering a 6’1 ft  stern enforcer in full gear sipping sugary juice at the bar with a straw. 

But those drinks are between you and Steb only, between Mentor and Protege 

And maybe a bit more, you bust yourself hoping? 

One day Steb takes you aside in an empty room and hands you a piece of paper. Your official recommendation and aptitude certification to enter the Medic examination of the Enforcers. Signed by his hand. You look up at him with a gasp, full of hope. 

He grabs your shoulder, looking straight into your eyes. and nods with a tight smile. 

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!

I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.

Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.

word count - 3k

authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3

masterlist. inbox.

The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.

“Hello?”

You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.

“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.

“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”

“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”

“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”

“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”

You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.

“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”

“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.

“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.

“I’ll put some shoes on.”

“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”

You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.

“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”

“I will.”

I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.

The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.

You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.

Almost.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.

You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.

You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.

Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.

His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.

“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.

“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”

He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”

“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”

It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.

“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.

“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.

“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”

He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.

“Do ya want to?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”

You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”

“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.

“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”

“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”

He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”

“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”

“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.

“Declan.”

“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”

You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.

“You should break things off.”

He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.

“What?”

“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”

Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.

“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.

“Because I love you.”

Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.

“You-”

“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”

There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.

“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”

All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.

“Declan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.

“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.

“C’mere.”

Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.

“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.

“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”

You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”

“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”

You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.

“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”

You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.

You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.

“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”

You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”

All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.

“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”

He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.

“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”

You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.

“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”

You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.

“Declan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.

“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.

“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”

He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.

Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.

The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.

“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”

He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.

The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.

“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”

You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.

You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.

You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.

Rupert Campbell Black.

He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.

You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.

Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.

“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”

@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles

as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3

[mythalsknickers]

I hope op does not mine me jumping on. Justice was having a hard time coping with the world in Awakening. Anders who himself was a volatile personality to begin with offered his friend a body that was not dead. Anders prior to Justice was very much a rebel and rightfully so. But when someone who feels they have never felt Justice in a positive sense due to being harmed by the system. They are not the most safe environment for thier friend.

Add on top of this Anders and Justice did kill grey wardens after merging. From what I understand of the codex it was not something they willingly did but Anders felt the grey wardens were as much as a cage as the circle. Unfortunately Justice had started twisting before he merged with Anders and Anders long term anger accelerated that twisting from his purpose.

By the time they get to Kirkwall and Hawke meets them Anders is doing his best to aid Justice's purpose with a clinic in dark town and assisting or running the mage underground in Kirkwall. I stress this next part. Anders and Justice were friends this was not something unwilling or even done to gain more power. Anders wanted his friend safe.

Anders had no way of knowing what Kirkwall or his own anger would do to Justice. Safe spirit possession is not taught in circles and even if Anders was Alamarri he had been taken to a circle young enough that he did not understand the concepts fully.

Kirkwall is a dumpster fire in a pit of acid. Kirkwall had a lot of old blood magic that built that city and every day someone was getting possessed, abused by templars, sold to slavers and taken advantage of. Anders first love was made tranquil as an attempt to capture him. Justice snapping and taking control by act 2 was in alot of ways the only way he and Anders could survive. Anders was not in a place mentally to contemplate saving Justice. He wanted vengeance for Karl and for every mage hurt. It was easier to let Vengeance take control, it hurt less.

I will always hate the Anders romance. It was my first da2 mance and the manipulation and lying sucked. That being said Vengeance was also doing it for a mage Hawke and by act 3 he can't give Anders control they are both too far gone.

Compare this to Spite. For starters Spite is not "spiteful" they are a spirit of passion and determination in the body of someone who very much wants to live. Lucanis has the benefit of three mages who understand spirits on fundamental different levels, in addition with his own understanding of how spirits and demons work which not entirely in line with chantry doctrine. He has been to Rivian, in addition to having Taash's understanding of being raised in Rivain. The antivan crows have had magical inclined members and a mage tradition away from the chantry as well. Lucanis had a better toolkit even without the Veilguard for coping with Spite with the Veilguard it is clear to see why Spite is the equivalent of a neurotic house cat as opposed to Vegeance.

The one thing I think everyone forgets is Wynne from DAO was willingly possessed by a spirit of Faith and if you violate Wynne's conditions of faith in the temple of sacred ashes she will try to kill you. To protect the construct of her spirit.

Vengeance was a tragedy of Kirkwall that left even his friends unable to say if Anders was truly there.

You cannot compare the toolkits of any of them

i think it’s a little unfair to compare spite and justice’s ability to act normal against each other, or to act like spite just being a misbehaving cat diminishes how hard it was for anders justice to cope with possession. spirits in the material world get upset when they can’t fulfil the pure ideal they seek. spite is a creature of spite and gets to kill people trying to hurt it basically all the time. justice is a creature of justice and was living in fucking kirkwall

[gejo333]

Can you make a fic based off of wife!reader & husband!miguel?

Miguel was with his friends downstairs and they were pretty drunk after all those beers & Miguel had said something hurtful to reader? Just pure angst 🙂‍↕️🫶🏻

Your Spiderbite Hurts Me the Most

Miguel O’Hara x Wife Reader Oneshot

Sorry I haven’t answered this in so long!

Hope you enjoy it! 💕

Wc: 1.7k

————————————————————————

Your tired gaze stared half-heartedly at the paper in your hands. Another negative pregnancy test. As soon as you saw the result your crumbled up the paper and threw it into the bin underneath the sink. Taking a deep breath as you lean your hands against the marble counter top.

"Y/n! Where did you go?! We're out of beers down here!" Your husband's voice roared from downstairs followed by his boastful laugh.

You claw your nails against the palm of your hands daring for blood to spill. Not like your husband would care if you hurt yourself. Probably wouldn't blink an eye if you slit your wrists here and dropped dead on the bathroom floor. Your gaze went to the large sparkling rock on your left hand as you felt another piece of your heart break. With every fiber of your being did you miss the man who gave you this ring five years ago. How you would do anything in the universe to get that version of your husband back.

"Y/n!"

"Coming!"

You make sure you look presentable before rushing downstairs to the main living space. You put up a loving and happy smile as you head towards your husband who was sitting down on the sofa chair talking with his friends from work.

"Finally you come down. Can you get us more beer?"

"Is that seriously why you called me downstairs?" You chuckled trying to hide your annoyance.

"We're out of beer. I thought you could be a doll and go get us some more." Miguel slapped your ass making your face redden in embarrassment as you slap his hand away, glaring down at him. He and his friends only laughed in return as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on his lap. You pulled back as you could smell the beer on his breath.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I've heard enough of your complaining. Am I right?" He laughed followed by his other friends.

"Hey Miguel maybe you should go teach her a lesson in the bedroom." One of his guy friends chimed in. You felt your gut raise to your throat as you saw the creepy look on his face as he said that. God when did Miguel start hanging around such sleeze bags? You missed his old colleagues like Jess and Peter. But after your last miscarriage about a year ago you haven't seen them since. You honestly haven't seen your real husband either.

"How about you guys enjoy the football match and I'll pick up more beer and snacks for you." You get out of Miguel's lap before he can decide if he wants to take up his friend's suggestion.

Without evening a glance from your husband who went back to talking to his friends as you grab your coat, gloves, scarf, and purse and head out to the store.

The ice chill of a December night wrap around your body as you walk outside. Maybe you take the long way. Let him and his asshole friends wait longer.

As you walk on the street you notice all the Christmas decorations throughout the city. If anyone was in their apartment they wouldn't even know it was the festive holiday.

A couple not much older than you and Miguel walk past you, arm in arm enjoying each other company and whispering sweet comments. You felt extra cold on your right side, the side Miguel was always on when walking outside together arm in arm as you rest you head against his bicep. Now you rarely go anywhere together and when you do your always a foot a part from each other.

You quickly wipe a tear falling down your cheek as the couple walking past you briefly smiles at you in pity.

As you walk into the store you notice a woman look up at something in the sky in awe as you hear her say to someone, "Look! It's Spiderman."

You lazily walk down each isle trying your best to waste more time and annoy your husband. After getting the beer and chips your husband likes as well as a couple of bottles of Chardonnay for yourself you lazily push the cart passed the electronic section where quite a few people were stopped in front of the TVs watching the news.

"Wow that spiderman sure is amazing." Said one man.

"I saw him in person once. He is so big!" Said a woman.

"He has the perfect physique. I wonder if his face is just as attractive." Said another woman talking to her friend.

"I heard he has a deep voice." She replied.

"Whatever girl is with him is so lucky. I'm jealous."

You rolled your eyes from the conversation you eavesdropped as you decided you spent enough time in the store. Ever since this superhuman appeared from nowhere three years ago everyone in Nueva York has been adoring him. Sure, your grateful that the crime rate has gone down significantly, but you didn't understand the hype around him.

After checking out you head back to the penthouse apartment you supposedly called home. Despite such a horrible year between you and Miguel with the constant fights you still loved him with your whole being. You hope maybe one day the man you fell in love with would one day come back to you with a loving smile and open arms to hold you close.

You take a deep breath before sighing as you turn the key in the lock before entering. As you enter the living space all eyes were on you.

"Finally she's back. What took you so long? The store is only two blocks away."Miguel impatiently asked as he walked up to you and snatched the case of beer in your hands.

"Your welcome?" You lightly glare at him which he returns before heading back to the living space.

You stomp after him as he sits back in the same spot. He looks up to you in question for standing in front of him.

"Seriously Miguel?"

"Ooo someone is in trouble with the missus." Said one of his friends who became quiet when Miguel shot him a glare.

Miguel grabbed your waist and forced you to sit on his lap. With the death grip he has on your waist you dared not move.

"Your mind is in circles today. It must have been when you banged it earlier today when cleaning under the table. She such a clutz, no wonder she keeps having miscarriages. Even if we could have a full time pregnancy she probably wouldn't be a good mother either." Miguel chuckles.

A smack echoed in the room as his head was turned to the side with a large red mark and small scratch on his cheek from the large diamond on your wedding band. You immediately got out of his arms and stormed upstairs to your bedroom.

You laid on the bed facing the alarm clock on your side of the bed watching as the hours went by. It wasn't until the clock struck 3am that you heard Miguel stagger into the bedroom. You felt arms pull you against a warm body as lips met your neck.

You wiggled your body out of his grip.

"Por favor mi amor." (Please my love)

You turn your head to face him as you shoot him a light glare. "I'm not in the mood Miguel. Your words really hurt me. I can't barely stand to look at you right now."

You heard him sigh as a chill was felt against your back from the lack of his warmth. You felt the dagger in your heart press deeper, making it hard for air to come into your lungs.

The deafening silence was too much to bear as you immediately get up from the bed and head to the closet to get dressed. When your dressed you leave the bedroom to head downstairs, immediately your followed by your curious husband.

"Where are you going at this hour?"

"Out." You head to the front door to grab your purse. Before you could leave you were stopped by his hand around your wrist. You glared up at him.

"It's not safe for you to be out by yourself. If you need to go for a walk so badly let me come with you." You see concern in his brown eyes, making yourself almost consider his offer. His soft eyes briefly remind you of time before all this heartache. But his words from earlier appeared back in your mind and your bleeding heart once a again turned cold.

"I'm going on this walk to get space away from you." You opened the door a few inches before it was slammed closed again by an hand above you. Your back was against the door with Miguel right in front of you inches away. His fingers lift your chin as his eyes move from your lips to your eyes.

"Please don't go. At least wait till morning. Then we can go out and talk." His lips brushed against yours but before they fully met you pushed him back.

"No. I don't have anything to say to you. I'll only talk to the Miguel who loves me and treats me they way he use to and wouldn't dare speak the words you did today or have you been treating me this past year. If you keep this up...I don't...I don't think I can stay in this marriage any longer." You look to him, eyes wide in shock from your words before you opened the door and left.

As you made it outside you were relieved that he didn't follow you. You continue to walk until you find your self in Central Park where you find a bench.

As soon as you sit the tears fall down your face as you contemplate everything that's happen this year wondering what went wrong. Your weary body and mind succumb to the cold of the night as you pass out from exhaustion on the bench.

Miguel stood before your sleeping state. Reddish-brown eyes gaze down at the clear exhaustion shown in your face in worry as he picks you up bridal style, whispering, "I promise you'll shed no more tears after tonight."

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This definitely will have a sequel. I should have the next chapter of “An Unexpected Match,” out soon! Hope you enjoyed this one shot!

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Breaking the cycle

Warning ⚠️; Grief, quick mention of child abuse, trauma, angst, past character death, let me be delusional. Spoils for Arcane all seasons.

Pairing: Silco/Male!Reader, Jinx & Male!Reader (Father Figure)

Summary; you were angry and hurt after the death of Silco, your lover and partner, by the hands of your adopted daughter Jinx. So you just walked away, needing time to heal. But how could a father stay away when his daughter needs him?

~~~~~~~~

You never imagined a life without Silco in it. From your time in the mine to now, he has always been there. Either by your side, in your shadow or his name being on someone’s lips. You couldn't recall a time without him except when you were a kid.

He had always gotten your back and you his. You had stopped counting the times you took care of his injuries or how many times Silco stitched you up. You almost lost him, still having nightmares about it even after his death.

You remembered how bloody and raw his face had been. You thought he was done for, but he had lived. Lived and with you had taken care of that ankle biter. Jinx had been a daughter to you the second you were introduced to her as you saw so much of yourself in her. She was a bundle of joy to you.

But now she was the reason of your greatest pain.

As Silco once said “Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?” and the answer was no. No there wasn't. For he had died by the hand of your own daughter.

You remembered screaming at the sight of Silco’s dead body as your heart and soul broke. His skin had been so cold when you cradled him in your arms, rocking and trying to wake up from that nightmare. Jinx had been crying, begging for forgiveness.

But you only felt anger and betrayal toward her. How could she after everything Silco had done and sacrificed for her? She was your only child and in a tantrum, she killed the only person who ever truly loved you.

How could you forgive her?

You had left, needing space away from her. Away from everything so you could heal and accept the reality. Easier said than done. Each morning you wake up cold in an empty bed, in a place filled with silence. Gone is the smell of cigars, makeup and coffee during the morning and it leaves a deeper hole in your heart.

The worst are the dreams and nightmares. The nightmares haunt you with the memories of the past of the mistakes you made. The dream teases you with a reality that isn't yours anymore. Like waking up next to Silco, being able to touch his face once more or kiss him one more time.

Either way, you always wake up crying, breaking more with each passing night.

Before you knew it, months had passed. You kept an ear out, listening to the news. Jinx was still being herself, but the tensions also grew. Even in your hole, you could feel it. It was a question of time before a single act blew everything up and conflict would turn into a bloody mess.

When you came back to your senses, grief still clouding your mind, you felt ashamed. You had turned your back on Jinx when she too was hurt by her own actions. You didn't know what to do, how to approach her and ask for forgiveness.

You wrote letter after letter, throwing away each one of them, disliking them. You couldn't find the right words until you stopped trying. You tried to explain to her how you felt, that you didn't hate her and forgave her just like Silco would have. You asked for her forgiveness for how you just treated her, knowing damn well you didn't deserve it.

After sending it, there was no answer.

Through the great vines, you learn that Jinx had taken a little girl under her arm. A child she had named Isha. Isha, what a sweet name you thought the first time you heard it. Jinx was still the kindhearted girl you remembered her to be and you were glad she had someone by her side even if it was a mute child.

Staying in the shadows, you watched over her. She seemed happy with that little girl, a spark coming back in her eyes. It was clear Jinx saw the kid as her sister, but that child saw her as more than that.

Jinx never noticed you, but Isha did. She came to you a few times and you always gave her a little something. Food, toys and even her own little gun once. Her smile reminded you of Jinx’s when she was little before Vi left. Maybe that was why Jinx kept her around, because Isha was just like her and she knew how to take care of the little girl.

You had wished to take your time coming back into Jinx’s life, but things took a wrong turn and you were forced to act quickly. The battle against Warwick took you by surprise, more than it should have. Why you didn't see it coming, you didn't know, but you showed up.

How couldn't you when your daughter was there, risking her life? But you didn't see her. Didn't see either her hair or heard her voice and you feared you had been too late. That she had died before you could ask for her forgiveness.

Then you heard her scream and just ran.

You saw a little flash of blue as Jinx screamed Isha’s name. The child looked at you as she passed you, running, a gun in her hands. Your blood turned to ice as you immediately knew what she was going to do.

You turned on your heels and followed after her. You were an adult, taller and larger than Isha and, more importantly, slower. But you managed to make your way through the battle and reach her as Isha raised her weapon. You snatched the damn thing from her and threw it in the air. Before it fell back down you took Isha in your arms and booked it.

Your legs and lungs hurt as you ran away, little hands grabbing your clothes. You gasped when the explosion happened, the blow hitting you in the back. You wrapped your arms around the child, trying to shield Isha as much as you could. Your body hit the ground with a loud thud and you felt your shoulder give up, dislocation.

Dust filled your mouth and nose, making you cough and sneeze. But so did Isha.

You opened your eyes, grimacing with pain before looking down. The kid was crying, her little hands rubbing her face. You sighed in relief seeing her unarmed. Unlike you. But you didn't care.

You slowly sat down hearing running footsteps coming towards you. You sat the kid on your lap still making sure she really wasn't hurt. Your shoulder was killing you, but you ignored the pain when Isha smiled at you before hugging you.

- “ISHA!” Jinx’s scream surprised you and you both looked in her direction.

Jinx was running toward you, her long braids bouncing all around the place. Tears rolled down her eyes you saw as she fell onto her knees next to you. You never got the chance to talk, your daughter wrapping her arms around you and Isha before she broke down crying.

You embraced her, letting her melt and snuggle against you. You weren't better as you began to cry as well, asking for her forgiveness. Jinx just nodded, whispering that you had nothing to be sorry about.

You closed your eyes, just wanting to savour the moment, but the next thing you knew darkness actually swallowed you up. You woke up on a comfortable bed, a small ball of heat pressed against your side. Groaning, you looked at what it was only to find Isha sleeping next to you. Her helmet had fallen from her head to the floor, but her hand still grabbed onto you. Little snores left her mouth and you smiled, passing a hand in her hair.

- “You are awake.” Jinx's voice almost scared the shit out of you and you froze, looking to the side.

Your daughter looked tired, like she hadn't slept in days. Maybe it was the case since you didn't know how long you were out. There was sadness and fear in her eyes as her gaze shifted to Isha. The sweet thing was unbothered.

- “Yeah. I guess I am.” You whispered, slowly blinking. “Jinx, sweety I…”

- “Don’t. Don’t say you are sorry. You have no reason to be, I understand. I got your letters I… just never knew what to reply and where to send them.” She cut you off, her fingers pinching the skin around her nails. “Thanks for saving Isha. I… I don't know…”

Tears filled her eyes and you offered her your hand. Jinx took it and you squeezed her delicate hand in your. You knew what she meant as you felt the same. Losing Silco had been painful, the worst pain you ever felt, but the thought of Jinx dying? Of losing your daughter to the cold embrace of death?

Oh, that sort of pain was unbearable. You wouldn't be able to keep living in a world without her.

- “I know princess, I know. That is why I was there, for you. I didn't want to lose you like that, not before asking for your forgiveness. I never should have left. I abandoned you when you needed me the most and I'll never forgive myself.” You said, voice low as to not wake up the kid.

Jinx dried her eyes before almost jumping into the bed. She dropped on your other side, arms around you as she buried her face in your unhurt shoulder. You grimaced a bit, body still sore, but wrapped your arm around her.

- “You are my daughter and you'll aways be. Nothing will change that, Jinx, okay?” You whispered in her hair as she nodded.

- “You scared me. When you lost consciousness I thought you just dropped dead. I thought… I thought I had lost you again.”

Her voice shivered as she fought back her tears. You closed your eyes, kissing her head. You didn't want to think about it. You weren't scare to die, but you also didn't want to leave Jinx alone with a child in her charge.

- “I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you so much.” You said, stroking her hair.

- “That's a lot of sorry…” She whispered and you snorted.

- “Yeah, I have a lot to be sorry about… What about the kid? How’s Isha doing?” You asked, turning your attention toward the sleeping girl.

- “Hadn't left your side ever since we got you here. She helped me take care of your wounds and your shoulder. I don't think she like the sound of dislocated shoulders.”

- “You didn't either at her age.”

She laughed and you smiled.

- “Dad… are you…” She mumbled, unable to fully ask her question but you knew what it was.

- “I am not going anywhere. I came back home, I came back for you and Isha.” You replied and Jinx relaxed against you as if you had taken the weight of the world off her shoulders. “But the kid is still your responsibility. You took her in, you are raising her.”

- “Too young to be a mom!” She whined and you chuckled.

- “Then be a big sister to her. Like I said, I ain't leaving you alone. We will manage. After all, me and Silco raised you well enough. I bet I can do it again.”

Jinx had tensed when you mentioned Silco but quickly relaxed again. She nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around you.

- “Sleep. You need it as much as I do.” You whispered and Jinx denied it.

Yet, it wasn't long until your daughter was fast asleep against you. You looked down at her, admiring the woman she was becoming. You were glad you had managed to save Isha, not liking the idea of her death destroying Jinx. She had lost so much, losing that kid would have been the last straw.

You fell asleep soon as well, wondering if Silco was watching over your little family from the other side. You felt a wave of sadness at the though of Isha never knowing Silco but chased the thought away.

Even if he was dead, you weren’t and you would make sure to share memories of him and Jinx’s childhood with Isha.

You fell asleep with a smile on your lips being finally back home.

[veitchiin]

Do you think Lucanis blames himself?

For what happened to Rook. Them disappearing into the fade, trying to retrieve the dagger from Ghilan'nain's body.

I mean, he failed in Weisshaupt. He admits to it. Had he only been a little bit more focused. Had he only a little bit more control over Spite. The kill was right there, he was so close he could already see her dead then and there.

But he failed. He failed and the opportunity was gone. Weisshaupt fell for nothing. He could not get payback for Minrathous, in Neve's stead. He could not thank Rook for their help in Treviso. The assassin missed his mark, how many more mistakes can the abomination be afforded before his utility is brought into question? How long until Rook no longer tolerates his presence? How long until his carelessness, his lack of control over Spite, truly harms the team?

But Rook was there. They did not blame him, they did not leave his side, they did not kick him out they did not hate him they did not push him away they did not get angry they did not. Abandon him.

They stayed by him, they supported him. It's thanks to them he could get to the bottom of his inner torment. Thanks to them he and Spite came to understand each other. Somewhat.

Thanks to them that he avenged himself and his family. Thanks to them Treviso was saved from the blighted dragon. Thanks to them Treviso will be able to survive the Antaam.

He owes Rook so much. They were by his side, they helped him and those he cared for. Without asking for anything in return but his presence, and his skills. He owes Rook so much. Rook understood and cared for him. Rook's presence helped him stay grounded. They felt warmer than others. More welcoming than others.

When did it happen? When did Lucanis start caring for Rook so much? They saved him from the Ossuary, and then from himself. They who gave themselves and their trust to him so easily, knowing he was made to kill. Knowing he was an abomination. And they did not pity him. Even after Weisshaupt, they knew he was strong enough and thanks to them he saw it too. And eventually he was strong enough to admit how much he cared. And then he swore not only to kill the gods, any and every god, for Rook but also, perhaps only to himself, to love them the way they had loved him, by protecting them and being by their side.

So then, why did he fail again.

He was the one who had the dagger. He was the one who pierced Ghilan'nain's flesh. Why did he not take the dagger out? Why was he not the one to retrieve it? Why did he not, somehow, warn Rook? He couldn't have known, but he should've. And now Rook is gone. In the fade, somewhere. Without him. If he were stuck in the fade, Rook wouldve found a way to him, to bring him back, or only to be by his side. He cannot. The others are trying, and perhaps he tries to help. But what good can that do? He was made to kill. That is all he does, all he is. And he failed. Ghilan'nain may lie dead but does this even matter? Weisshaupt did not feel like half the failure this does. After Weisshaupt Rook was there. Rook was there, he had not endangered Rook. He had not killed Rook.

But if he had succeeded at Weisshaupt... Would any of this had happened? Perhaps things would have gone differently, the dagger wouldn't have remained inside the evanuris' body? Perhaps someone else would've been trapped? Anyone else, anyone but Rook. Even himself. If the Maker would allow it, Lucanis would without a doubt take Rook's place, wherever they are. If they live.

Surely he doesn't believe they live? Surely he doesn't believe they'll return? Emmrich, Neve and Bellara all together are working tirelessly to retrieve them, does he believe they wouldn't have found Rook already if they were? Rook is gone. Their room is empty. The decorations they left behind have not moved, their wardrobe undisturbed, their absence violently evident.

Does he hope their clothing retained their scent? Does he hope that by sleeping in their room he'll awake in their arms? Does he hope that by brewing their favorite drink he could summon them back? Does he hope anything he could do or think of could make him forget what he lost? That he failed to keep them safe? That by doing exactly what he swore to do, what he was always meant to do, he killed Rook?

Oh, Lucanis. If only you hadn't gotten attached. If only you had kept your distance from them. If only you hadn't fallen in love. If only you hadn't failed back at Weisshaupt. If only they hadn't freed him. If they had left him to rot in his underwater prison, surely someone more competent would've taken his place, at the very least someone who would've actually kept Rook safe. Someone Rook deserved to have by their side. If only.

Now Rook is gone. They will never be a Dellamorte. They will never share a cup of coffee they hate with him, just to try and make him happy. They will never make a joke at an inappropriate time again, not a strongly worded comment or kind gesture. He will not get to take them on Treviso's waters, to see their eyes light up taking in the sight of his home that they helped save. Rook is gone.

If only you had been able to save them.

If only you hadn't failed.

If only.

Do you think Lucanis blames himself for what happened to Rook?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

do you have any tips on pacing? for me I always tend to right way faster then I would like to. thanks!

Writing Notes: Narrative Pacing

The best storytellers across all genres of fiction writing are often masters of the pace at which the story unfolds.

Pacing - refers to how fast or slow the story is moving for the reader.

This is determined by the length of a scene and the speed at which you, the writer, distribute information.

Generally speaking, descriptive passages tend to slow things down, while dialogue and action scenes speed things up—but slowing the pacing of action down at choice moments can also build suspense.

Good pacing is crucial to the flow of a successful narrative and without it, the story is dead on the page.

The reader wants to be immersed in the thoughts and actions of your characters.

They want to feel that they’re in the world you’ve created.

Clunky language, bad dialogue, and poorly-conceived scenes will all draw your reader out of the story.

Pace will help keep them there.

Writing Tips: On Narrative Pacing

Whether it’s through subplots, playing with sentence structure (longer sentences can slow things down, rapid-fire dialogue and short sentences can speed them up), or experimenting with passive versus active voice—here are a few ideas to keep your story moving:

Utilize breathers. By balancing action scenes with more reflective, internal moments, you give the reader an equal dose of excitement and recovery. The quieter moments in any novel—the “negative space”—are the places to share relationship details, a character’s thoughts and memories, and anything a character might do while taking a break. These spaces, which are just as important as the more dramatic scenes, give readers a chance to orient themselves and process their reactions. Too much of the same pace—no matter how exciting it is—will begin to feel tedious to the reader.

Change the order of events. Try a method called in medias res—opening the story in the middle of the action and filling in details later. This works well when you want to capture your reader’s attention quickly, like in a short story. If you are writing something longer, try placing the sole dramatic question of your story upfront while using the rest of the novel to slowly parse out information that leads to the final answer. Your readers will keep reading to discover the answer to the question you’ve given them.

Vary your sentence length. Try breaking up long passages of exposition with short dialogue—even a sentence or two can be refreshing. If you have a very long section of dialogue, insert brief sections of exposition to keep your reader grounded in time and place.

Keep characters physically moving during dialogue. If your characters are on the run and having a conversation in an airport, you can show the numerous distractions they might notice as they walk nervously through the airport. By interspersing brief distractions (clumsy passengers, stern security guards) between segments of dialogue, you prevent the pacing from becoming monotonous.

Reveal information selectively. Writing suspense into any novel is a matter of controlling information—how much you reveal, and when and how you reveal it. In its most practical sense, suspense is a series of incremental steps. While every novel will have a central, overarching storyline that seeks to answer the sole dramatic question, that question is an engine built of thousands of smaller components that carry the reader through each chapter, sustaining their interest along the way.

Vary your narration. In all writing, there are 2 types of narration: scene and dramatic narration. In the former, you show the characters performing an action or having a conversation. This tends to speed up the pacing. In the latter, you simply tell the reader what the characters did, but the event remains “offstage.” This type of narration can slow the story down. To keep pacing from feeling monotonous, it’s a good idea to vary the two modes of writing. Show the reader a scene when it’s interesting or necessary, and use a summary to move over the less exciting parts.

Read the work out loud. Notice the amount of time it takes you to read through a scene and pay attention to how the sentences feel to read and mark where the rhythms naturally change. Where should you slow down? Where should you pause? Where should your pacing gain momentum?

How to Pace Your Novel

How Long Should Book Chapters Be? The overall story arc of a novel is essential, but meticulous construction of individual chapters is just as important to the reader’s experience. Here are a few of David Baldacci's tips for structuring chapters:

Keep scenes and chapters short. David keeps his chapters short—between three to five pages. This keeps the narrative moving at a brisk pace.

Keep your audience asking questions. When a chapter answers a question from a previous chapter, you have the opportunity to introduce a new one. The new question will propel you through the next chapter. A classic example from crime fiction: “Will this serial killer strike again?” becomes “He struck again—now how many more people will he kill?” Keep this up over the course of a novel, and the book will be a page-turner.

Make sure each chapter has a purpose that ties into the bigger story. If you lose sight of the overarching narrative of your novel, your individual chapters can begin to feel aimless. To keep your novel focused and on track, you should have a clear objective with every scene you write.

Don’t fluff up the novel with irrelevant content. Scene-setting and vivid descriptions are critical for a compelling novel, but don’t get bogged down in the details. Focus on sustaining narrative momentum from chapter one onward.

Make your scenes multitask. Driving the plot forward, conveying information, and deepening a character’s development are the three most critical jobs that a chapter can do. The short chapters you write should make use of at least one of these tools, and preferably more than one.

A Writing Exercise on Pacing

One person punches another.

Describe this act in 10 words.

Describe the same act in 100 words.

You’ll find that the second description reads more like the end of a chapter, while the first may sound more like the beginning or middle. 

To follow up, write a scene leading up to the punch and play with sentence lengths.

For the scene leading up to 2, for instance, try making all the preceding sentences no longer than five words apiece.

In the scene leading up to 1, keep all the sentences equally short, except when you get to the action that directly provokes the punch and describe that one action in 100 words.

After completing this exercise, you should see how very different the exact same scene can feel, depending on which elements of that scene are sped through, and which are dragged out.   

A good advice on pacing: Read and learn. The next time you come across a book that keeps you up all night turning pages, give it a second read once you’ve finished and caught your breath. Take a look at what the author does, whether it’s speeding up scenes, slowing them down or shifting points of view at crucial moments. Odds are, you’ll appreciate the book even more… and pick up a few pacing tricks of your own.

Techniques to Slow Down the Pace

Lengthen your sentences

Add descriptions

Include subplots

Use flashbacks and backstory

Add more introspection

Techniques to Speed Things Up

Shorten your sentences

Use more dialogue

Remove (or limit) secondary subplots

Use cliffhangers

Increase the action

There is no formula for a great story: it can be either fast or slow depending on how it is told. So, don’t be afraid to play with your story’s pacing and explore different ways in which a scene can be slowed down or sped up until you find the right fit. Above all, remember that nailing the pace is a matter of balance.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

Hope this helps with your writing!

[misc-magic]

Ohh thank you for the tag, Eden!!

Mwahaha I gave myself cat ears because why not, right?? Also there were no freckles, so I went with those little diamonds instead lol.

how do you spend your free time?

I spend what little free time I have writing, doing a couple other hobbies, and trying to keep on top of my house, chores, and errands. And you know, trying to do it effectively despite the adhd lol!

what are your hobbies and how did you get into them?

I don't usually list writing as a hobby because it's more like my life's blood. I get irritable if I don't write. But my other main hobby is music. I play the piano almost every day. My guitar and ukulele are collecting some dust recently, but I will get back to those, too. Playing music is the most relaxing thing for me and I always end up wanting to pick instruments back up even if it's been a minute. As for how I got into it, I started playing the piano at the tender age of 9 and just never stopped lol. Reading is another big hobby of mine. I turned the formal dining room of my house into a library so I could have a place for all my piles of books. I'm in a reading slump currently, but I've learned to just let it be and eventually I will be consuming books like crazy again. This is another one I don't know the origin of, it's like I've been reading books as long as I can remember. (Other hobbies include crocheting, video games, DnD, journaling, and then there's a section of what I call "dead hobbies" as in I did them obsessively for a while but haven't done them in ages but might pick them up again in the future let us not discuss it adklfjkfj.)

what book or movie left a lasting impression on you?

This might be a really dorky answer, but... I read A Midsummer Night's Dream by good ole Billy Shakes when I was like twelve and it changed my brain chemistry forever. I don't know what it was about that play... I read a bunch of others around the same time and like I loved Macbeth and Othello and The Tempest. But there was something about all the fairies and fantasy that I think was the start of my obsession with all things magical lol.

what kind of music do you enjoy?

Ohhh it's constantly changing. When I'm listening to stuff with lyrics or that I want to sing along to, I'm really into folk, indie, jazz, neo soul, and k-pop, but like I also used to listen to a lot of alt rock and punk rock so I know a lot of those songs, too. I'll kinda switch between stuff, especially 90s rock is something I'll play when I'm feeling ~nostalgic~ lol. But when I'm listening to music for writing or concentration, it's all instrumental or in a language I can't speak. So I'm listening to a TON of piano music, classical, and lately my other obsession has been mandopop. I actually really love k-pop for this, too. It's like I can listen to these up beat poppy songs without getting distracted by the lyrics. And yo Mandarin is just a beautiful language to listen to. Anyway, I tend to like most music and I'm always looking for new stuff.

who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

Because I couldn't hope to choose one for all time, I'll go with at the moment and that is none other than the time traveling demon butler Barbatos.

(Assuming here that we're talking about characters that aren't mine because they top the list every time lol. Though actually even if I listed the ones that are at the top, nobody would know them because they aren't my OM OCs and I've never posted about them here lkdfjkfj.)

Barbatos is just such a great character that was horrendously underutilized in his source material. They kinda made him the end all be all solution for when things got out of hand. He could fix any plot hole with a bit of time travel or ancient demon power. But he has so much more depth than that. And maybe in some ways, he reminds me of myself. He's quiet, but observant. He notices everything, keeps track of all the details about someone, remembers everything. The main difference between us is that my adhd makes me scattered, so Barbatos feels like the type of person I have the potential to be if I could keep it together. It's less about the fantasy of someone taking care of me and more about the fantasy of being competent lol. What does this say about me? Let us not look any deeper.

He's also just really cool and mysterious and who doesn't love a guy who can cook, right? His demon form design is top notch in my opinion, with those cool wing like horns and the tail. He's just great in every way and I've written several essays about him on my side blog al;kdfjkdlfj.

Weee that was fun and as usual I wrote too much lol.

OPEN TAGS~ if you are my mutual consider yourself tagged because I want to see all your answers!

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

[sansaorgana]

— HUMBLED (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Vala!Reader // Morgoth x fem!Vala!Reader

SUMMARY — Driven by guilt after abandoning him, you went back to the place where Mairon had been slain. You find out that he is still alive but in the weakest form and shape. You take him in to nurse him back to health in the solitude of your Mirkwood fortress where you are hiding from the Valar, disguised as an ordinary human.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — 👀 The Reader in this fic is a Vala (and Varda's sister but she remains undescribed as well), so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. The smut part is not with goo!Sauron although I'm sure some of your freaks would probably want that. 😂 I know that the fortress in Mirkwood was built by Sauron much later in canon but I wanted to use it in this fic, although I didn't use its name, so it doesn't have to be the exact same one anyway. Once again I want to thank @dinsbeskar & @olchr-1 💚 Special mention to the queen of Sauron fics @just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace and her fanfic Remade where the iconic evil!Reader is nursing goo!Sauron back to health as well. 🥺

WARNINGS — Reader is evil (reshaped by Morgoth but not completely evil), mentions of domestic abuse (with Morgoth) & of Sauron and Reader being tortured by Morgoth, goo!Sauron, murder, SMUT, dom!Sauron (with sub undertones)

WORD COUNT — 3,830

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

HUMBLED (II)

Perhaps it was embarrassing for a Vala to feel so enamoured with a Maia but you could not help it – Mairon was all you could think of after your departure.

And after finding out that he had been slain during his coronation after your departure, you could not help a pang of guilt filling what was left of your heart. You had abandoned him and left him all alone at the mercy of all those dark and rotten creatures your husband had created and lured. Of course your sweet Mairon would never handle them on his own, without your support.

You missed him, too – your devoted servant who had worshipped you like nobody else before. When you were being an object of his desires, it was as if you were no longer Varda’s rival because Mairon could make you feel like the most important goddess in the whole world.

Therefore, after many years of being tormented with guilt and yearning, you decided to go back North and inspect the fortress where he had been slain. You could easily trace the very floor where he had laid dead because a black stain remained there. And you tilted your head while examining the cracks between which his blood had to be streaming down.

Your instincts led you underground where you found yourself in a cold and damp cave filled with sinister, ominous presence. There was no doubt that whatever was left of your servant still lived there.

And then, as if it was drawn to you, you spotted an odd, small form creeping towards you on the floor. It was not humanoid but visibly alive although its breath was barely present. The way it moved caused your heart to clench inside your chest out of pity. When it found itself by your feet, it wailed pathetically and whined.

You had a new form now as you were disguising yourself as a young woman of the human kind but his spirit would recognise Mother of Flames everywhere and in every form. Just like yours would always recognise him.

“My poor, sweet Mairon…” You crouched down to touch the malicious substance gently. “I am so sorry for abandoning you,” you whispered as you opened your hands and watched him struggle to slide onto them. “Just a little, my darling, you can do it. And once you’re with me, I will take care of you,” you promised. “I will nurse you back to health, my Mairon,” you encouraged him as he eventually managed to crawl up to lay in your hands. He sighed out of exhaustion and you chuckled softly.

You stood up and brought him closer to your face. He was like a little, gruesome pet and you found it adorable in a way as your godly instincts to take care over weaklings awakened.

“I shall take you away from here, my sweet spirit. Rest now, darling, you are safe now,” you cooed to him.

And inside your hands you took him safely back to the place where you had been living in hiding these days �� in the southwest of Mirkwood where Hill of Sorcery was and you spent your days there alone in a fortress long-abandoned, away from everyone, trying not to attract any attention.

Having Mairon with you in his odd shape was merely counting as a companion although you were speaking to him all the time and he would answer with squeals, whines or sighs. You prepared him a cosy spot near the fireplace, which was always lit up due to your control over that destructive element.

As a fallen Vala, you had no power anymore to create life – not in the same, pure way as the others at least. Therefore, you did not want to risk bringing him back to life with your will because it could end up badly. You’d rather the process of his healing take centuries than to bring him back twisted and deformed in any way.

You felt bad for not being able to help him more, so you devoted your days to finding him wild animals to feed on and sometimes you would allow him to feed off of your own godly energy to gain strength as you would caress his foul form and coo to him.

As time passed, slowly but progressively, his shape was growing in size and getting more and more humanoid. He was even more gruesome now because he no longer resembled a pet but became a dark shadow that was creeping around the fortress as he kept following you around obediently.

Oftentimes, he would exhaust his weak form by doing so and you would turn around with a soft sigh and a smile at the sight of him breathing heavily on the floor.

“My sweet, Mairon, you should rest,” you crouched down to help him move back to his usual spot by the fireplace. “I am not going anywhere, do not worry, my dear. I shall never abandon you ever again, you have my word,” you caressed him.

He reached out his limb towards you and you smiled lovingly at the gesture.

“You seem to be quite ready, don’t you think, my dear? Should I fetch you a bigger meal?” You asked him.

You were excited to finally bring him back fully but on the other hand you had grown so used to this shadow following you around for the past few centuries that you were not sure if real, bratty Mairon was someone you wanted to handle again. However, you did not want him to suffer anymore.

The dark shape nodded, eagerly and you leaned in to place some sort of a kiss upon where his forehead would be.

“Be patient, dear. Soon, you will be back with me. And now, regain your strength,” you assured him and watched him fall asleep.

When he did so, you left the fortress and hunted for a human or an Elf who would walk around unguarded. Not that you would not handle someone of this sort – you were a goddess, after all. You simply did not want any witnesses. The woods were dark and mysterious, therefore one disappearance would not alarm anyone but to have a rumour going around that there was some dark spirit living amongst the humans and the Elves of Mirkwood – that you did not want.

Therefore, using your craft of deception and luring, you teased a young lumberjack into your fortress. He was in a trance but once you locked him inside the same chambers where Mairon’s shadow laid, he screamed out loud with terror. However, he was too far away from the nearest village for anyone to hear him.

You smirked to yourself as you paced around impatiently, waiting for Mairon to deal with his prey. The sounds coming out of the room were concerning but you knew that an act of rebirth required lots of dirty work.

Finally, the doors creaked as someone opened them slowly and you turned your head around rapidly.

There he stood in front of you – your Mairon. He chose a new form for himself this time, a little shorter, with curly brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He was in a human shape but you assumed he was not strong enough yet to create a form as pure as Elven. In fact, he looked like a commoner – him wearing his victim’s clothes was not helping the impression.

He was smiling proudly and taking deep breaths in as you watched him with widened eyes.

“You… You look different,” you pointed out, taken aback.

“So do you,” he answered and you cracked a smile at the sound of his new voice. What a privilege it seemed to be now to be able to hear his voice. “My Lady,” he added and bowed his head slightly. “I am yet too weak to take more noble form but in this one we both look the same. I would never dare to take a form higher than yours. I know you need your disguise but so do I. I hope you do not mind this choice.”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and approached him. “I have nursed you when you were a… A shadow. How can you think I would ever be able to cast you away because of your shape or form?” You cupped his cheeks as his stubble scratched your hands.

Short silence occurred, in which you two were staring at each other intensely. You were the one to make the first move as you pulled his face towards yours to plant dozens of tiny kisses all over his face while your hands brushed his curls.

Filled with joy to be in your arms and to be greeted by you this way, he wrapped his new, strong arms around you and made an attempt to give back at least half of those hasty and desperate kisses.

“My Lady, my Queen,” he whispered between them, “my saviour, my Goddess.”

His kisses grew more hungry and passionate as his lips moved down to your neck, kissing it eagerly and sucking on the sensitive skin. His hands, shaky from anticipation, worked on the lacing of your gown. He was too desperate to ask if he could stain you with his touch but you would never reject him.

Whatever was between you two now had differed greatly from whatever you two had back in the day. After all those centuries of taking care of him in his weakest state while you two were hiding away from the outside world, you felt that the connection between you two was as strong as ever. Perhaps even stronger than the one you had once had with Melkor.

“Mairon…” You gasped when his hands finally untied the corset of your gown and he tore it off of you like a wild animal in heat, pushing you down onto the floor.

This time it was you underneath him, at the mercy of his will and his desire. And you should mind that but you did not – in fact, you craved it. It had been ages since he had a body and now his flesh was filled with uncontrollable desires. You wanted to be the only subject of them as you would never allow him to fulfil them with anyone else.

“You are mine,” you reminded him when he grabbed your wrists and crossed them above your head, pinning you down.

He looked deep into your eyes as his pupils widened and nearly overtook the beautiful green colour completely. He growled and leaned in to give you yet another hungry kiss and you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him closer. You could feel his erection already because the clothes he had taken from the commoner were thin and loosely put on.

“You belong to me,” you whined between one hungry kiss and another while he took both of your wrists into one of his hands now to be able to remove his clothes with the other. He was chaotic while doing so, desperate to get rid of anything between your bodies. “Tell me, Mairon. Do you serve me still?” You asked.

There was a new energy about him in this form. He was still only a Maia but you were a very weakened Vala and he was no longer a pathetic spirit you had remembered. He reminded you of your husband in a way that you were now anxious about.

“I am yours,” he breathed out and held onto your hip with his free hand as he buried himself inside of you and groaned out of pleasure. You shivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hips bucked up as your walls throbbed around his length, welcoming him in by greedily sucking him in deeper. “I am your servant and yours only. There is nothing holy to me except for you,” he confessed and let go of your wrists to squeeze your cheeks, which caused your hazy eyes to open and look deep into his.

They were no longer green; not even black. He was too driven by desire to be able to control his form and his eyes were terrifying and animalistic as if he was a serpent and not a human. Yet, the sight only made you throb around him some more.

“In your name I shall heal this realm and you will have your temple like I have promised,” he hissed out. “But if you ever abandon me again, I shall give up on you, too. Like I have given up on all the other gods,” he threatened and perhaps he had earned a reprimand for that but you couldn’t help a moan at his words as your hips bucked once more and he began to thrust into you.

His rhythm was far from steady; it was chaotic and desperate, rough and fast. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, assaulting your skin with kisses and bites as his big and strong hands held onto your hips to be able to fuck you even deeper.

You tangled your fingers in his brown curls and pulled on them, which only spurred him on and with your other hand you scratched the flexed muscles of his back. Your moans and whines filled the whole fortress and lucky were the habitants of the near villages to live far away enough to not be able to hear you.

Like two desperate animals with your clothes scattered around and torn, fucking on the floor. There was nothing holy about you two at that moment and nothing noble either. Even your forms were human, therefore you had to resemble two primal and primitive creatures instead of the regal and holy spirits that you had originally been.

“I will never abandon you again, sweet Mairon. Have I not promised you already?” You whispered. “Whatever path you want to take, I shall take with you. Reunite all the dark creatures of this realm for you again, command your armies, I shall do it. Stay here forever and get lost in each other’s embrace for the whole eternity instead? I shall do it, too,” you confessed.

Your devotion – the loyalty of the one he had been worshipping ever since his creation – was enough to make him spill himself inside of you with a groan of pleasure and relief after such a long time of yearning. He moved up to look at your face and he caressed your sweaty cheeks while he kept thrusting in and out of you to make you reach your peak, too.

“Once we heal and take over this realm, I will defile you on every altar built for you,” Mairon promised you in a raspy voice, his eyes back to normal now but still foggy from his orgasm. “There will be no more Valar for our subjects, there will be only you. The only goddess. Any form of worship of the other Valar will be considered blasphemy,” he whispered sweetly and you moaned, feeling the muscles of your abdomen tightening as your walls clenched hard around him but he kept on fucking you. In fact, he picked up his pace. “Such a goddess you are and look at you, so humbled underneath me. How humiliating it must be for you, my Queen,” he teased, cruelly and instead of getting angry or ashamed, you finally came all around his cock, shivering and moaning as he watched in awe with a smirk, fucking you throughout your orgasm.

He was slowing down alongside your breath going back to normal and his rough human hands were caressing your cheeks now, brushing out the hair strands away from your sweaty face. 

“You forget yourself,” you breathed out eventually.

“You liked it,” Mairon pointed out. “And I shall do everything to please my Queen,” he chuckled with a sparkle dancing in his eye. “I bet you would like to do it again, my Lady.”

“I do,” you grinned but he shook his head as he laughed.

“Work before play,” he leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead. “And we have a lot of work to do,” he pointed out and moved away as you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“What are you talking about? You have just regained your form back,” you sat up and tilted your head at him.

“I have had centuries to come up with a scheme and I do not wish to waste more time,” Mairon told you, gathering the scattered clothes from the floor to put them back on.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before laying back on the ground.

“What is it, my Lady?” He furrowed his brows at you.

“Nothing, my sweet,” you chuckled. “You’re back at it, are you not? You cannot ever just let it happen or have fun. You must always work and be a perfectionist about it.”

“I might have a new form and a new will but some things never change,” he answered.

“I wonder sometimes why the Valar have not found me yet,” you sat up again to look at him and he froze at the mention of the other gods. “I mean, they are not searching for me hard enough because I am not that well disguised. Yet, they have not come for me yet and I know that in their eyes I deserve a punishment.”

“Do you have any theories about it, my Queen?” Mairon asked, curiously.

“You are my punishment, I reckon,” you told him. “I am humbled to be enamoured with a servant and I have to endure your annoying ways,” you added but with a playful smile that signalled your affection.

Mairon smirked nervously. He had once fantasised about something similar when his heart had still been pure and he had been Aulë’s disciple in Valinor. In what a twisted way his dream turned out to be real. He pitied you at that moment.

He crouched down next to you and caressed your cheek gently before leaning in to place a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I wish to perfect myself as much as it is allowed for me to but I will never be your equal, which I am aware of and it will forever be my biggest regret,” he confessed. “If only I could… All I want is to be worthy of you like he was. My master.”

You flinched at the mention of your husband. Melkor was immortal like you were, therefore he was not dead but locked away instead. You were still his wife because of that and you would forever remain in the eyes of many but at that moment, you would not mind to break the tradition and become Mairon’s bride. Even if it would be considered a great humiliation.

“I wonder what he thinks of us,” you mumbled out. “But I care not,” you looked up to meet Mairon’s concerned gaze.

“Even if he comes back by any chance, I shall not allow him to hurt you or take you away from me. No matter what it takes,” he promised with all seriousness and you batted your eyelashes to dry out your fresh tears.

“If he comes back by any chance,” you chuckled sadly, “it will be me having to protect you from his wrath, my sweet Mairon,” you caressed his cheek and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips.

You would never leave his side and you would always watch over him, take care of him and nurse him back to health whenever he would need it again. 

He was your lesson in humility but you were a very eager student.

You were sitting by the fire amongst all those poor villagers who had lost their homes. Mairon had his arm wrapped around you as you clinged to his chest as if you were cold, pretending to shiver slightly. The old man named Diarmid who had taken you both alongside with him squinted his eyes at the two of you and decided to join you by sitting next to you after a while of hesitation.

You moved slightly to make more space for him and he smiled.

“Halbrand and Brynn,” he addressed you by your new and fake human names. “How much have you lost there if I might ask?” He asked but there was no rudeness about it, only genuine concern.

“Everything,” you answered, refusing to look him in the eye as you watched the flames dance. It was the very element you had full control of but now you just allowed it to burn naturally as you smiled at the memory of casting the very first fire that had ever existed in Arda. Mairon leaned in to kiss your temple and he was the one to look at the old man.

“This might be a second chance for us,” he said. “I like to think of it as such. We are free now from the burdens of the past. As if we were new people.”

“And that is how you should be perceiving it,” Diarmid pointed out as he nodded. You smirked a little because he was so naive and so oblivious to your Mairon’s malice.

“My husband’s always been the more positive one,” you mumbled out. “I like to perceive things the way they are,” you added.

“That is certainly a useful quality,” the old man smiled at you. “But sometimes we all need a little hope and a little white lie here and there. Such wisdom comes with age that the true purpose of the fairytales is not to entertain the children but to bring hope to grown men and women for the reality of life can get too gloomy to bear faith for a better tomorrow. Yet, we must keep going. No matter what.”

You looked up at that moment and locked your gaze with his as your heart skipped a beat. The man kept smiling at you softly and you would never tell Mairon about it but he was no ordinary human. He was a spirit sent to you – he was one of the Maiar with a task given to him from the Valar.

They knew about you and Mairon and they wished for you both to redeem yourselves and choose goodness this time. Indeed, it made your heart clench deep inside of your chest as you remembered them all, especially your sister – the one you had betrayed the most.

But it was too late for you and too late for Mairon. Melkor’s corruption and darkness were reaching deeper within your souls than the Valar’s lightness ever would. You two were the most exquisite subjects of the Dark Lord’s torment.

Instead of fixing your malice with his love, like Marion had once dreamed of, you both descended into the paths of sin and destruction disguised as the act of healing. Together, at least.

MASTERLIST

[fridgemissionmaster]

What They Do When They Miss You (Full Cast + OCs)

Lucifer

Like how you can't teach an old dog new tricks, he turns to old habits:

It’s rather easy to not think of you, after all his brothers and Diavolo make sure he’s always kept busy… for the most part.

But then the night rolls-in.

The quiet always unnerved him, that’s why he usually had a record playing. You never knew this though. After you arrived and changed his world, his life, he didn’t want it. Your voice was far more soothing than any melody or hymn for an ancient, weary heart.

Not always, but on occasion you’d stay up and keep him company. He didn’t care if you talked or not, if you vented your frustrations about school, or if you sat beside him only your soft breaths being heard as you organized some papers in the endless stack between you two. If he had a record playing it’d simply be annoying noise. Yet now he finds sleep eludes him without it playing. You left a mark he can only try to patch.

And on exhaustive nights where even that doesn’t help, he pulls out the bottle, roughly ripping the quark out with a loud pop or even breaking the glass’ neck by mistake, the sharp sound making him flinch and the embarrassment that a human could have such control over him even without a command, making his cheeks flush without his lips touching the blue liquid yet.

At the dead of night, he sits in your room after spending an hour at the tomb or in Lilith’s room. He’d never admit to talking to thin air, about his grievances at the last student council meeting, or his breath shuttering at the thought he truly didn’t know what you were doing, if you were safe or not, if you were happy or not… surely you weren’t, otherwise this tightening of his throat would be a silly feeling, not if you weren’t feeling it too.

Mammon

His sticky fingers get the better of him:

Oh, look at that, the gem on that necklace is your favorite color. He needs it.

That shirt, isn’t it made of that material you found really comfy? He needs it.

The vase over there, it looks rather valuable, he could buy you the newest fragrance from Majolish, The Great Mammon just knows you’ll love it. He needs it.

Geez, you’re such a clutz leaving your room in such a state. Sure, it may look clean, but he knows his human, and the place is just a mess. You’d like it if he tides it up a bit for ya. Like he’d take that picture of you and him on the nightstand, can’t let his brothers accidentally break it, and the clothes from your closet, can’t let them get musty and eaten by moths as well as your sheets and quilts, AND, and there’s also the knick-knacks on your shelves they… get dusty, surely they wouldn’t under his care. He’ll also just be taking-

And then there he was, strung up to the ceiling, for no reason! Doesn’t anyone realize he’s your First Man for a reason!? He knows you better than anyone, and he knows he’s the only one who can properly take care of your stuff! He needs to keep them in his room so he can make sure nobody else messes with em’!

All your stuff, safe in his room. His room where he can look and sort through them all day, every item reminding him of something, anything.

Surely they wouldn’t notice one of your pens was missing, right!? Only he’d notice such a detail. And once you get back you won’t either! So it’s fine! A little something you used to pour emotion into writing or work. It’s always with him, to fiddle with when his mind wanders, the clicking sound soothing.

…

Nobody would notice if he took another, right? You’d want him to look after it, and maybe some other things while he’s in your room.

Leviathan

He hides in a world only made for you:

You’d like this anime, too bad you can’t watch it in the human world. Nothing to do for it but record it. There’s also this new game, too bad they announced it after you went back to the human world, but you don’t need to worry, he’s already preordered a copy for you. There’s also the tie-in book, three for you and three for him.

There’s a lot you’d like actually. It feels like whenever you’re busy THAT’S when all the stuff you’d want comes out. Why did you have the leave him.

W-with so much to do!

Now he has to make a list of all the games he’s preordered for you. There’s also the reviews of all the anime he watched you may wanna know about. Then he needs to-

Most of his time is spent behind his monitor, writing, and writing, and writing away. He used to text you these reviews, recommendations, ect. but then his brothers, especially Lucifer made such a stink about it, about he’s ‘spamming’ you, or it was an ‘unreasonable hour’ to be messaging you. So now he’ll just have to be taking up all your time on your return, their fault really.

If you’d listen to him at least. They can’t just steal you away the moment you get back, right?

…

He dose have your favorite game. And newer games, sometimes need updates! S-so, so while those are downloading maybe he could play that.

There’s another list for you, one he made of everything he likes about the game, from the graphics, the music, there are also some reminders of things he thinks even you wouldn’t know, things to show you when you get back.

Satan

Well, if one has a problem, it’s only natural to find a solution:

He’s tried mastering teleportation, still vexes him that the skill still eludes him. Mammon made travel between the realms near impossible via that paths without Diavolo, Barbatos, or Lucifer interfering.

There MUST be a way though, something he’s yet to find.

Then he could see you any time and life would be perfect.

So what to do, what to do.

Legends could be the key perhaps. He spent the first several months of your absence pouring over the tomes in his room, you never know, perhaps now that he was looking for a method to the human world specifically he’d notice something he missed before.

Unfortunately there wasn’t much.

No matter, there were still libraries to scour through.

And if that didn’t… well…

He’ll find something, he will. He may need to turn his thinking around, quit RAD to pour his all into this search. There IS something he just knows it. He just needs to hunt that method down and take it for his own.

He will see you, he will find you, you’ll both bathe under the sunlight on earth, watch as it raises and sets, no brothers to bother the pair of you. Perhaps even surprise you, show up with a thousand flowers right outside your door. Maybe sneak off for a midnight tryst when you can’t sleep.

Sure you could summon him, but how could he surprise you then, or find you when you’re busy, or see you when he wants and needs you? He’ll find a way, don’t you worry, just wait for him, please.

Asmodeus

Mirrors and screens can only do so much, but it’s better than nothing:

Even his sighs are beautiful, but what do they mean when you’re not here to tell him so, to sooth his worries and hold him close.

Thankfully he took all those pictures of you before you left.

He has one for every occasion, ones of you at RAD when classes are being too troublesome. Ones of your smiling face for… everything really, to lift his mood, to give him motivation to just a little better everyday, when he’s board, when he’s sleepy, when he found that cute new top he just knew you’d love and knew would compliment your complexion perfectly, but double checking your references never hurt anybody.

And who is he to keep all these for himself. Of course there were some he deemed for his eyes only, but he just feels so bad for all those poor demons out there who just have nothing.

His days are mostly spent scrolling through his many, Many, MANY albums of you, searching for just the perfect one to post to Devilgram that day. The world can’t be deprived of such beauty, you must understand.

Soon a trend starts, #(insert number) of days MC has been gone. Asmo always has a new post for the tags for every day, he has enough to last for a few centuries. It’s an okay amount but really you need to get back soon so he can take more.

And don’t you worry, there’s not only pictures of you. Of course, with the tag of how many days you’ve been gone he’s taken 1(0000000000000000000) of himself for each day of your departure, he knows you’ll have missed him, so don’t you worry cuttiepatootie, he’s got you covered.

And so here you’ve left him wanting, looking in the mirror waiting for you to just appear in the empty space he leaves beside himself while he get’s himself ready for the next photo.

Beelzebub

Just as with all of his other feelings, it eats him alive:

For Beelzebub even before food, his family is at the forefront of his mind, and that, includes you. Whether it be the nightmares that plage his sleep, or the joy at hearing his brothers just chatting in the next room over, or the thought of you that’s just as haunting as it is comforting.

When he goes shopping whoever is minding him don’t point out how he doesn’t need to get your favorite snacks. There’s too much free time so he filles it by tripling his workout routine, makes it harder for the mind to wander. He knows it isn’t the safest yet on those long jogs he turns up the volume on his D.D.D., getting lost in your favorite songs. Then, when his belly is good and empty, he can focus on that pain, that gnawing more bearable. He hates seeing your spot at the table empty though.

It's… not a powerful feeling, he can go about his day to day, but it’s-

No, YOU’RE always there.

And it’s nice, in it’s own way. His family is always a part of him.

So he buys your favorite foods when it’s his turn to do the grocery shopping so that should you suddenly drop-in again he can already make the best feast for you. With his workout routine being tougher he has all the more reason to ask for your help like being the extra weight on his back for pushups or having you keep count, and these are very serious jobs so his brothers aren’t allowed to interrupt, just you and him for a time. He could also carry you on his jogs and sing along to your tunes. Finally once the day is getting late and it’s time for dinner he can stuff himself beside you, you and his brothers merrily chatting away filling him more than anything else possibly could.

The sweetest of daydreams to think of while waiting for you.

Belphegor

Miss you, why, when he can see you anytime:

Day, night, sleeping, napping, whatever the case may be, if you’re resting, he’ll be there. Life is easier if you just put effort in the things that matter and don’t bother with anything else, and thankfully that’s never any less true here.

Your dreams are easy to find, practically second nature for the demon. For a being such as he, the ethereal world of mixing, melding thoughts and emotions are almost just as real as the waking world.

So it’s just up to you, sleep, lie down on the couch and meet up with him. Want to go for a stroll on the Milky Way, or perhaps dance on the wind, it’s up to you. Why don’t you just stay, it’s not like there’s anything better to do.

Sleeping’s better than going back to the waking world. It’s filled with nothing but pain and death. It’s cozy, and warm, and safe, and kind here. Why must stupid human bodies always wake up.

And so you leave him.

All alone.

…

You’re very cruel you know, making this place so lovely only to rip it away.

No more dreaming till you come back, there’s no point.

Please come back soon. Sure he’s waiting, always waiting for your return, but if you’re not going to be here by his side to make the waking world warm and kind or the dreaming world safe and cozy then what’s the point of either?

Diavolo

There won’t be a world where he’d ever have to know of such pain again:

Funnily enough, he’s doing better than ever. Sure, life is a lot more boring with your absence, but he

Has.

A.

Goal.

It’s perfect, simple really. With the exchange program having been a success, you’ll have to come back for another, and another, there’s no one better than you to tell the progress of the Devildom in accommodating your people, and when the Devildom dose get to that place surely you wouldn’t mind being the official human representative full time. And with you being such a high standing official and honored guest/resident it’s only natural you’d just have to stay at the royal palace with him.

He just needs to make this world.

It will be a lot of work but it will be worth it. Sure his hands may get bruised, cut, bloodied, broken, dirty, or sore but then, once everything is said and done, surely life would be perfect.

Sometimes motivation does wane and as much as he cherishes your calls and texts, it’s still not the same as having you HERE, to feel the warmth of your hands in his. Sometimes when you’re on call he’ll slink away from this desk, sneak down the halls, and slip into that little room. He tenderly pulls out the albums so you don’t hear anything and ask what he’s doing, he adores your day to day, see how humans, you, go about your life. And as you talk he’ll open one of those many albums, each practically filled to bursting with photos of you and those brothers and the shenanigans you lot would drag him or he drag you into.

Had he ever told you, just how much you mean to him? Just how much you’ve changed his life? How you’ve brought much more joy than even the chaos of his home could?

… What better place to tell you such things than a world where you’d never have to leave again, where you could stay without worry, a world where humans and demons lived hand in hand, surely the rest of his people deserved the kind of joy you’ve brought to him.

Barbatos

Indulging in memories, that’s not a form of time travel, right?:

The day to day is always busy for a butler, but especially the one of the (temporary) Demon Lord. His thoughts are always filled with the most important things, you must understand.

He awakes bright and early before any other creature dare. Standing before the mirror, adjusting the buttons, smoothing out the outer coat, floofing the ruffles on his shoulder as you would in a playful mood, tapping the ends of his shoes to the floor testing if they’re snug enough, and giving his warm gloves one last taught pull before making his way to the Little Ds’ rooms to assign them their duties for the day.

He ties on the apron you bought him. He still doesn’t understand why ‘Kiss the cook’ is such a prolific phrase on the garment in the human world, but who is he to comment when you always take the fabric’s advice upon seeing him in it. It had been a few days so surely the Young Master would be craving some bloody lignin berries with his pancakes. Perhaps some Griffin eggs on the side? Diavolo does have more paperwork than usual so the extra treat would give him the boost he needs to not run off as soon.

The garden also must be tended to for the day. There are the blazing spuds you planted. Still not ready yet it seems. Good, it’d be a shame if you weren’t here when they were at their peak. The Hanging Shivering Fuchsias you watered the last day you were here looked especially lovely in the morning dew. Seemed the pickles could use some extra attention though.

There was the evening shopping too, Diavolo requires the freshest ingredients. You joined him for these shopping trips often. It was always a lovely chance to teach you of some of the local delicacies. He finds to odd now to not be looking to his side and asking your thoughts, if anything caught your eye, or if anything reminded you of home.

It’s natural to be lost in thought, there’s a lot too keep track of after all. However much there is though, every night he’s always left with the same one as he takes off those gloves placing them aside. How strange and charming it was that they always felt so warm after you held them for the first time. Something to look forward too for tomorrow as he planned out the day.

Luke

Well, being a Guardian Angel has it’s perks:

Angels are not to interfere in the lives of humans ever, with two exceptions. One! Father gives the order to do so on his behalf. Something like that hadn’t happened in a very long time though… Two! When acting as a Guardian Angel. Of course there were limitations for what he could do, but it was enough to keep you safe!

One can’t work directly, but there was plenty he could do for you! Like scooching your slippers a little closer to your bed so your feet don’t end up hitting the cold floor or when you’ve lost something if he finds it, he’ll move it to a slightly more obvious place you might have over looked.

It hurts worse sometimes being able to do these little things and not being able to do a thing when the bigger, badder stuff happens. His eyes get misty when you burn your hand on the stove, or get fired, or get into some accident or The EArtH SHAKES!? IS FATHER MAD AT YOU? ARE YOU OKAY!? Then it’s even worse when you act like nothing happened at all like with the SHAKING! You just go around putting away everything that got knocked over! Is he doing a bad job!? Are you just that used to danger that you don’t care!? How can you not care!? His heart practically breaks for you.

Maybe this started before, when you joined the exchange program. He knew he should have kept a closer eye on you! But don’t worry he’s here for you!

There might not be much he can do, and he can’t always be watching over you but he can help. Every bad thing will lead to something good, he’ll make sure of it. Like your burnt hand gets you to take that break you needed, or because you were fired you’ll get an even better job, or from the shaking and cleaning you finally can find that keepsake you thought you lost.

He’d never admit it to anyone, let alone himself but something deep in him does hope you return to the Devildom soon, then you can be together again, and he can protect you, for real.

Simeon

… Is it fanfic if you write about your friend?:

Simeone heard the term from Leviathan once. Fanfiction. He’s not quite sure he’d consider himself your fan perse, yet there he was, pages, upon pages, upon pages of writing about you, about what you and he could be doing together if not for this distance, about what you could be doing.

It felt… wrong? in a way, to do this. This wasn’t one of his characters that lived in his head, facts of things he knows you’re doing. He’s just… making stuff up with you in mind.

He writes of you laying in a field, some place as close to the Celestial Realm as the Human World could get to, you at peace, and happy, watching as clouds roll by.

There’s another of you and he sitting on the beach watching the sun set. He doesn’t actually know what a sunset looks like, but there’s something so enchanting about it, something so human, so imperfect about the idea, something so… something he could only hope to see with you.

He wrote about what he’d say to you, his longing, his fears, his silly ideas, confess his selfishness of wanting to keep you all to himself just for a short while and of you returning those feelings in kind.

It almost feels bad, like he’s dictating your actions, it’s not the same as when you worked together on those plays together, and yet despite this odd growing pit in his stomach, he can’t stop. This being something that calls to him when thoughts turn back to you and they’re too much to bare without doing something.

And so when he has the time, he can’t keep himself busy, or when he tries thinking of Henry and you begin to take his place instead, it’d only be natural to write of you instead, right?

Solomon

Laugh:

Things are so much simpler when you’re in the human world where you belong. No demons, angels, or other such creatures to fight for your attention! It’s amazing!

But fate can be cruel and he finds always, ALWAYS at least one of you is in the Devildom.

Loneliness and Solomon were no strangers, the man knew that feeling all too well in fact, however, you made it hurt worse. He was used to it, the rejection, the being kept at arms distance and him doing the same to others, the fear and disgust in their eyes, yet you didn’t. You approached him, drawing him closer and closer, how could you expect to give a thirsty man water in the desert and not have him on your heels desperate for more.

Yet there are those brothers, and royalty, and angels, and even death fighting for you embrace.

It feels the worst when you’re in the same room and no matter what they consuming you whole.

You’re a human in a new and unfamiliar world, so he’ll look after you.

He can’t help but smile seeing anyone less by your side. At him successfully distracting Lucifer with the question of a pact. He loves it when that one innocuous comment from him sends the rest into a fight giving him the chance whisk you away and laugh at their foolishness. He chuckles when he doesn’t need to do a thing at all and their own follies get the better of them and they don’t even realize what they’re missing out on.

If they knew he was mad or upset they’d feed on it, it’d make them just a bit too comfortable, but an unflappable smile, that can be just as unnerving as a wicked scowl. Then when at last it’s just you and him, and he’s home at last, no longer alone, just you get to see his real smile, one of relief.

Thirteen

It’s easier to hope to not see you too soon:

That thought makes things easier, considering who she is, and what her job is. It wouldn’t be the worst thing for you to go, you could always be by her side then, but it wouldn’t be the same as you are now, alive. It’s much more fun and interesting!

And as boring as waiting can be, she much rather wait for your return to the Devildom than you meeting her scythe for the second time. She would go and visit you, but she only really can when working and it might not be the best idea to have you follow her around and others start spreading rumors of you being cursed or something. Then again… well if she were to invite you along it’d be entirely up to you if you went or not. Maybe that is something to consider for a later date.

There’s only so long one can chase around Solomon though, or go shopping, or try meeting new people, or… there’s a lot the reaper has tried in her long, long, long ‘life’ but the time with you is always the most thrilling. Perhaps not the best life for a human but you at least seem to enjoy yourself despite your… she could never land on if you either had incredibly good or bad luck but, it certainly was something to behold.

It’s easy to pass by the days tinkering, and toying, and fiddling away till her cave was filled with new traps for your perusal, but on occasion she’ll pause. Sometimes it’s to wonder what you’d think. Sometimes it’s how you’d react when she unleashes it upon your reunion. Sometimes it’s just how you’d want to paint it. Inevitability the squeaking of metal or the snapping of wood, or stupid Solomon’s voice brings her back and you’re left to rest for a time. Thoughts of you came back though, they always do. That’s at least one thing she’s certain of, aside from your long life and bright flame. She can wait, there’s plenty of time yet still to burn.

Raphael

Pain is a trial, something to be embraced:

Father is cruel as he is kind, strict and wrathful yet understanding and loving.

This… shallow hollowness, he finds the feeling hard to describe, must be something similar to Father. It took root when his siblings first fell and it never truly went away. Sure there were more important things to think on, to work on, to refine, to improve, it was something he tolerated or tried ignoring. There wasn’t much he could do about the feeling anyway so why bother?

It was different after you though. For his siblings, yes they did wrong, but perhaps, one day Father would see their actions weren’t malicious, they just loved so much and didn’t know how to express it when they were scared for one another. You however… There was no real reason why you couldn’t be together now, to share hellos and see you laters. He could text you maybe, but it wouldn’t alleviate this feeling, just make it worse the longer your time apart is.

He finds it inspiring sometimes. Sitting on a couch unable to decide what to sew or embroider next. The decision is always easy now, what would you like?

During training he’s able to put in this energy he never knew he had that just sat dormant within. His swings are faster, more power can be utilized.

You grow in strength everyday, you could easily surpass Solomon at this rate, something that should terrify him, yet he wants to stand toe to toe with you. How things were going, you’d probably save his life. That wouldn’t do, you have enough people relying on you, if someone was going to be saving the other let him save you for a change. You deserve the break.

So he’ll keep this feeling close and this new part of himself, it hasn’t been causing any trouble so far, so he didn’t see much reason to do anything about it.

Mephistopheles

How dare you, he must curse you in kind, it’s too precious of a gift:

You are no human! You are a curse, a plague! You’ve went and made yourself impossible to ever forget. Do you even realize what that means? Do you truly understand just what you’ve given him? Your short life, and you’ve chosen to give part of that to him so freely! And now he’s saddled with the responsibility of keeping that part of you alive within himself because who knows when you’ll just keel over from how fragile you are!

And now you just expect to keep him waiting. He just has to sit here in anticipation for your return so he can give you the same gift! How rude!

Never again will you be able to doze off without wishing he was beside you. He will make sure your drifting thoughts are of him, and him alone.

He’s planning every moment of your return. Demons live much longer than humans so for him to give you the equivalent of what you’ve gifted him, you won’t be having any free time for a very long time. For you, for him it’s practically nothing, but be sure it will be the most amazing moments for your entire existence! Just recompence in his opinion.

Don’t plan anything, he has date plans for you for a few months. He would have the next few years planned out by the time you see one another again, but it can’t be anything less than perfect. There’s also always something new add. His finger is on the pulse of the Devildom, from the new hole in the wall eatery few have tried but raved about, or the Three Legged Crow’s plans on investing in at home entertainment, there’s always something new to add and see if they fit into his plans.

Why did you do this, take the little free time he had and twist his arm into dedicating them to you. He could be relaxing, but no, the rarer times he’s not busy he finds your life in his mind. Surely a curse most fowl that he will give you one of his own.

Aurum

Writing so you don’t miss a moment:

The evenings in the bar are long, but the days even longer. They lay on the sofa half asleep, one thought on their mind. The nights felt shorter when you visited. He also missed the anticipation he held in his chest, locking up the front doors only for you to pop up and walk him back home. He always told you he didn’t like seeing you out so late, yet you’d just say the same back. At least they had work and you… you were just damn too sweet.

He wondered, but couldn’t just ask if you felt the same, it’d turn awkward if you didn’t and well… His feelings probably hurt you enough already.

But, by chance, if you did, surely you’d like to hear from him?

Mammon raised a brow and questioned how Aurum hadn’t gottn your number yet and practically threw his phone into the man’s face to copy your contact info upon seeing the letter and hearing Aurum’s request for him to play mail boy! The demon still immediately pocketed the letter but, this was ridiculous. Even more so when Aurum refused to copy your info!

Was he perhaps a bit too presumptuous about your relationship? Texting would be a lot more casual than a hand written letter, but they knew how creepy it could feel when someone got your contact info without you being the one to give it out. Thankfully he didn’t have to ruminate on it for long, Mammon calling, saying you had a letter for him!

The patrons thankfully always provided with good stories for the man to share, and you always wrote of whatever misadventures and the brothers got up to. Sometimes Mammon would look over their shoulder, interject about the goings on, usually about you ‘exaggerating’ things he did. He also liked not telling stories, just news, or this off looking tomato he found at the market, and you’d tell him of the day to day in the Devildom, about the ingredients you thought he’d want to try experimenting with or how the library got an updated fae law book you could borrow for him if he wanted.

It was nice summoning Mammon every few days for his visit and trading your letter for theirs. It hurt, but you seemed to get that and would talk more about yourself for a time or just about Mammon. He admitted once, it felt kinda like giving each other a piece of home, these letters, and that he hoped you felt the same.

Matoi

You’re always together, there’s no need for that:

They told you before, didn’t they? The world of yokai and the world of humans are one in the same, intrinsically connected, one effects the other just as much as the past effects the future and the future effects the past. Humans and the Lantern People sewed one another, raised one another, and return to the earth hand in hand. The land may be vast, but the land is still earth, you are both earth, thus you are always connected.

But it’s okay if this hasn’t sunk into your soul and bones yet. You know, even if you don’t realize.

Knowledge doesn’t always sway the heart though.

They whittle. Not the tool carving for the village, or toys for the kids.

They hop through the forests till something catches their fancy. Could be a log, perhaps a branch but it has to be something that screams ‘you’. It’s rarer for them to have a plan for what the item will be. They chip away till the wood begins to take shape and they see what it wishes to be. They sing, ancient songs long forgotten but still they are songs of love, a song for you, one you’d never get to hear. Unless you asked but they wouldn’t on their own, their body always heats up from the embarrassment of being so focused on by one person, let alone you.

These projects, if they hadn’t made Mephistopheles’ cane, they would say each and every one was their magnum opus. Each had thoughts of you poured into them. A paperweight, a figure, some pencils, a chair, the amount of these carved gifts Matoi has given you practically every time you meet, you could not keep track of. They’ve made you furniture as if knowing the House of Lamentation needed a new one, not that was too hard of a guess with how destructive the brothers are. They’ve made you a ring that perfectly fit your ring finger. They made so many things, the only thing you could be certain was that they must spend most of their free time making these for you.

[kruegerspillow]

A soldier's yearning; Simon Ghost Riley fic.

Creators note: I'm back from the dead (again)...... Whoopsie.... Please take this fic as another apology as I had just finished my dreadful exams :(

Summary: Simon had just departed for a short deployment a few weeks before, though, the feeling of longing surrounded you as you waited for his visit.

Warnings: Swearing, not proofread, a pinch of angst with fluff :3

The atmosphere was tense as you laid restlessly in your bed. You held your phone loosely, the sheets were colder than before; and you swore you could've seen someone strangely familiar walk towards your apartment. You shifted once again, trying your best to find a comfortable position for you to sleep in as you looked out of your third story window.

Simon had left for a short deployment without informing you. And, the worst thing is, you had a brief argument with him right before he departed. It was no serious argument, no shouting or insults; just disagreement. Though, there were no apologies, no words, no kisses or hugs. It left you hanging on a loose thread, the feeling of worry gnawing at you. You were never the type to argue without a valid reason and so was Simon; yet, this departure made you feel some kind of way.

Here you are, weeks after his departure, still worrying for him and longing for his presence. You checked your phone from time to time, hoping that he would reply to at least one of your messages. Delivered, delivered and delivered. Not a single response from him. It felt lonely without him, as if a small void was formed inside the chambers of your heart. Sleeping in his bed wasn't going to be a permanent solution, though, you figured it's better compared to sleeping in your own— without a single hint of him. His room smelled faintly like his cologne, and it provided a sense of comfort. You placed your phone on the nightstand, letting out a small sigh before pulling the blanket over you slightly. Soon, without you knowing, you doze off to his scent lingering around you.

Thud.

You heard the small thud and immediately sat up. You looked around your room, looking disheveled. Your eyes caught on the small box that you had accidentally kicked out of your bed. You shifted, your legs hanging from the edge of his bed before grabbing the box. As you moved your head to the side, you saw a small rose that had been placed since the night before.

From: Simon Riley.

You read the small writings on the cover of the box before softly opening it. There was a small letter of apology along with some sweets that he knew you had always loved. Your heartbeat rised before you placed the box aside. You quickly got up from your bed, walking towards the living room quickly. There he was. Your Simon Riley. He was no longer Ghost, no longer the lieutenant when he was with you.

He slept on the couch, not wanting to wake you up or upset you by sleeping beside you, even though it was his bed you were on. His chest softly rise up and down before hearing your footsteps. He nearly jolted up before meeting your gaze, it was full of love— full of relief and desperation. You pounced on him before his hands went to your waist, steadying you carefully so you won't accidentally fall off of the couch.

"Sweetheart…" He murmured underneath his breath, his voice full of yearning and pure affection. He almost seemed like he regretted leaving you for that silly deployment. "Fuckin' hell, you got me weak on the knees, love."

You didn't say anything, relishing the feeling of his arms that found its way back to your figure. Your breath hitched as you rested your chin on his broad chest, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Your eyes had gone glossy in mere seconds, but Simon did not complain; feeling the way his heart ached as he noticed your eyes swelling up with tears. He embraced you in his arms, taking in your scent that he misses deeply.

"Hey, c'mon, no tears, yeah? 'M back here with you, lovie." His voice was soothing, providing security and love for you. "I missed you sooo much. Y'know tha'? I won't ever, ever, let go of you."

Soon, you would realize how lucky you were to find someone like him— a soft, caring man— hidden behind the act of coldness and hostility.

(Please check your phone :( He replied to every single one of your messages!)

[sodamnradd]

“Uh… Pans?” Harry pinches the air, missing his moving target. “Why’s there a branch floating above my head?”

“It’s mistletoe for the party.” She admires her charm work. “It wilts for some, blooms for others, and for the right kiss—” she kisses him, and the plant vanishes, “—it disappears, fulfilled.”

An hour later, Hermione enters the party with Roger Davies. Their mistletoe is black and crunchy, deader than dead. Only two other guests sport a dead mistletoe—Malfoy and his date, a witch Harry has never seen before. Malfoy swats the crispy plant like a pesky pixie, but it dodges him and snaps right back into place.

“Pans,” Harry corners her in the corridor, “should we scrap the mistletoes?”

She arches a bejewelled brow. “For giving Draco and Granger the wake-up call they so desperately deserve?”

He glances in Hermione’s direction with a bad feeling in his gut. “She hasn’t had the easiest go of things—”

“And Draco has?” Pansy rebuts. “Granger broke up with him.”

“Because he refused to admit he was dating her.”

“To save her from public scrutiny.”

Harry shakes his head vehemently. “He was ashamed.”

“He wasn’t.” Pansy’s eyes narrow. It’s an argument they have had countless times. “He’s pathetic without her.”

“He should’ve realised that before acting like a total di—”

“Look.” Pansy yanks him to the side, hiding behind one of the dozen Christmas trees erected around the house.

Hermione and Malfoy stand a few feet away. Pansy gives Harry a pointed look as the mistletoe above their friends blooms with the plumpest berries Harry has seen all night. He gulps, not liking it.

Hermione points to the mistletoe. “Did you do this?”

Malfoy’s gaze lifts and his brow furrows, noticing their rejuvenated stalker. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You’re angry I dumped you.”

Harry bites his lip to keep from laughing at Malfoy's outraged expression.

“If anything, this is the sort of manipulative spellwork you would conjure to drive a point,” Malfoy drawls, a razor-sharp edge in his voice. “If you wanted a kiss, Granger, all you had to do was ask.”

“I beg your pardon?” Her voice goes up an octave. “I have a date.”

“So do I.”

“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “You hired an escort.”

Pansy snorts, and Harry claps a hand over her mouth.

Malfoy goes beet red. A vindictive snarl curls his lips. “And Davies has been staring at her tits the entire time.”

Hermione stiffens. She begins to walk around him, but Malfoy blocks her path. “Kiss me.”

“Sod off.” She tries to side-step him again, but he follows.

“Kiss me and the enchantment will go away,” he says, staring at her with some other emotion in his eyes. “Or are you worried Davies will start a fight?”

Hermione shakes her head, trying to skirt him, but Malfoy doesn’t let up. 

Pansy’s nails pierce Harry’s arm, warning him not to interfere.

“You’ve broken my nose once,” muses Malfoy as if it’s a fond memory. “At least this will be for a worthy cause.”

Some of the fight leaves Hermione’s body.

“Kiss me,” he inches forward, “and I’ll broadcast my feelings to the whole of the Wizarding World to make you believe me. I’ll put a ring on your finger and give you my name.”

She retreats a step, voice small. “You’re just saying that.”

“Kiss me,” urges Malfoy, closing in on her. The mistletoe follows diligently. “Find out for yourself.”

Fascinated and dubious of this version of Malfoy, Harry wonders whether Pansy has been right all along or if Malfoy is a master manipulator. Both are viable options. But if the mistletoe enchantment is as accurate as Pansy claims…

Harry watches, scandalised, as Hermione fists the front of Malfoy’s shirt and kisses him with shocking verve. The wall thumps as they land next to the tree. An ornament shatters on the floor, knocked by Malfoy’s elbow as he ensnares Hermione between his arms, sighing, “Fucking missed you.”

Smiling smugly, Pansy mouths, “Told you.” Flitting off to rejoin the festivities without being seen. Harry slips out after her, groaning when another meddlesome branch appears. This one targets Ron and a newly betrothed Daphne Greengrass. 

Across the room, Pansy sends Harry a devilish wink.

(708 words, prompt from the blue november prompt creator i made, cross-posted from bsky)

[1804falcon]

I love the way you are analyzing and deepening the lore of one of my favourite game, so I will share some headcanons on my main toon : Flynn Scarrow (SW)

• First, the nightmares. Because of his predisposition to Visions, he was at least used to them. But even this didn’t prepare him to bear the weight of the presence in the Force his old Emperor had. The confusion, the visions he saw during his non-restful sleep in the carbonite (this wasn’t a restful sleep, not with Vitiate rambling about his powerful Empire and his dysfunctional -to be polite- family), the fear for his team (did they make it out alive ? Was the Empire alerted in time ? He hoped that the Jetiise were prepared for the unstoppable storm that the Eternal Empire was, at least he knew Aethra (JK) could deal with them). Needless to say that more often than he would have, he had troubled sleep (when he had any…).

• Fortunately for him, (a little victory in all this mess) he was used to command. But that didn’t mean that being the Outlander was easy - he struggled hard. To keep them united, keep the moral high and to not let rivalries take the better of the cohesion the Alliance had, hell, to feed everyone and make sure that the dead had proper burials. The pressure, the stress… The specialists help him a lot and he is very grateful for them to be here and Lana and Theron are a vital support for him, two unshakable rocks on which he can rely when stress and pressure become too difficult to bear, who allows him to focus on the present and not think of all those he has lost…

• The absolute trauma of seeing Ziost being devoured ?? Feeling all the souls in the Force dying all in one time ? The pain ? The agony ? The cacophony of emotions that they hurled before being absorbed by the dark void of emptiness that Vitiate was ? The void left in the Force as a wound when in its place was a planet full of life ?? THIS was his breaking point, the exact moment he decided that Vitiate had to die. If this psychopath were not arrested, the entire galaxy would be his meal. It was his responsibility as his former Fury to put an end to his actions. And if he had to die for that, then so be it.

• As a light side Sith, he followed a strict code. He knew where he was standing, what position he held in the Sith Empire, what actions he could take without being labeled a traitor, what proposition he could make to the Dark Council to encourage them to evolve in a better cohesive and stronger way, he knew how to do his job, okay ? But after five years frozen in the depths of the Wild Space, he was lost, and a little more paranoid than the average level of your local Sith Lord (Shab, he was a Sith Master before this kriffing hell, all the betray-ish tendencies and the constant backstabbing was even awaited here). Who was his ally ? Who wasn’t ? What pub soldier was the eye and ear of the Republic and what Sith the agent of the Empire ? Who was here to kill him in the little time he had to close the eyes, and who was here to really helps ? He didn’t show it, he couldn’t. He had to believe that they could win, not with fear but by unity.

• Cross-faction allying, and all the stress it was to choose one of them just to have help, to survive. The struggle to keep everyone happy….

• Self care ? Where ? He could barely sleep and wash when he wasn’t busy fighting the Eternal Empire. He, Lana and Theron had too many sleepless nights on their counter (for this to be sane) just to keep the Alliance running, without including the planification, the strategy reunions, the missions ect… Sometimes, all the food they had was rations bar and caff and bless the Force, its help to keep him focused and alert. All the little sleep he had was instantly sucked in by the exhaustion that managing the Alliance caused him.

• He had lost everyone he knew, fortunately, he had Lana and Theron. They were the rocks that maintained him focused, but when they weren’t here, the fear of losing them was there, lurking, causing his breath to accelerate and his brain to think of all the bad scenarios he could think of. All he had to reassure him was the Force bond he had with them, but sometimes, that wasn’t enough.

• Valkorian (A walking trigger warning itself). His constant presence in the corner of his eyes, lurking, circling around him like a predator, just waiting to devour him like he did to Ziost before… His deep voice emerging from the depths of his mind to make comments, the icy chills that run down his spine when he feels him behind him, observing, judging… The moment when the time freezes where he offers him his immense powers just for a brief control over his body, where he knows that he can’t refuse… Because if he does, who will pay the price ? He can’t be selfish.

• Arcann and Vaylin. He kept them around, but by the Force, that was hard. It takes him all his control not to simply jumpstart when Arcann entered a room he was in, he couldn’t get out of his head the way the ex-emperor looked at him when he had tried to kill him with all his hate and might (he have a scar on the stomach as a reminder), rapidly followed by Vaylin in a burning vengeance.

• Home sickness did hit him hard when Theron get his ship back.. empty. His crew, the team he was proud to call friends.. all gone without a trace. The people with whom he travelled and fight for years, shared joy and sadness, pain and peace…gone. This ship was more a home for him than any planet he stayed before and now, the weight of their absence was too loud for him. He could not stay long in this ship without hearing the memories of his crew coming back to haunt him.

outlander headcanons!

primarily for my outlanders (yes, i cracked and boosted khaak to 60), but here we go.

SPOILERS FOR KOTFE/ET+ HERE!

nightmares? like, force sensitive or not, they struggle a lot to figure what’s real and what isn’t. dreams are VERY vivid as an outlander, and more often than not, are omens to future events. if they even have time to sleep, they definitely struggle with going to sleep because of it, or staying asleep because of it.

stressed af. once they become commander, the outlander (especially if they aren’t a jk -a battlemaster-, a jc -an ambassador-, a trooper -a colonel at this point- or a warrior -a whole faction’s wrath) is absolutely screwed trying to finish everything themselves. the specialists help out a lot and theron and lana are godsends, but we seem to forget that this is all on the outlander. this is still all their job, and they aren’t just a figurehead. caf can’t fix this. 

being unfit for the job? really mostly for the force blind classes (quizzy and trooper being included here). it’s been mentioned by multiple people knights was meant for the knight, and if not also extended to the consular and warrior. but a bounty hunter? a smuggler? a trooper? an agent? someone who only knows their daily need for more money just to make a living? someone who hasn’t ever had to lead more that a specforce platoon? someone who works in the shadows instead of broad daylight? being the outlander isn’t meant for these classes, but getting stuck here can be absolutely hell for them without understanding half the things that are being said around them. revan? the emperor? force possession?

ziost? yavin iv? two planets where you basically need a grasp on the force to even really survive the hellish scape for a city planet turned warzone, or the jungles of ghosts and other force creatures?

morality? as mentioned above, most classes know they’re clear cut. they know right or wrong (and do by it as they please), but no longer held in place by the code five years later (if they choose so) or by their faction, what do they do? they don’t get praised anymore for being so pure, no military badges. do they sacrifice a patrol squad for a friend or lover now? is it worth killing someone who tresspassed or betrayed them? now that there is no light or dark, there is no more the empire’s right or the republic’s wrong, what do they do with all that pent up discrimination?

paranoia? after five years of being in carbonite no less, the outlander probably struggles a lot wondering who’s here to kill them, and who’s here to save them. especially after umbara, they tighten their defenses and their hearts, possibly bunkering down for days at a time or taking out their anger on others because of it.

phantom pains? being trapped in carbonite, even after lana’s cure, still pained them so bad they eventually would have phantom pains of lurking injuries from that time. more along the time they’re on zakuul running from vaylin, but it could progress from arcann’s stab wound, or their fight with other zakuulan enemies.

new faces? as much as they see lana in the first few months i predict chapters 1-9 took, their second familiar face is vaylin, and she’s trying to murder them. koth becomes friendly enough (if you decide not to be an ass and kill zakuulans left and right), but the third is theron, but they don’t see him until months, maybe years later. as mentioned above, there’s a small freakout that definitely happened here, especially if their love interest was part of the vanilla crew or theron. every single face is new to them, and who knows if they’re trying to kill you or they’re sympathetic to you?

cross-faction allying? if a warrior chose to ally with the republic because they’ve been cast out of the empire, or the knight chooses the empire because they feel more in tune with themselves there, there’s a lot of underlying trust issues in-between both parties. not everyone is pleased, the republic deserters are happy to go back home, but the imperials are disgusted (but begrudgingly work with them). the republic deserters are disappointed with working for those who sacked coruscant, and the imperials are happy to return home. the outlander struggles with making everyone happy, which can leave longtime effects on them. do they ally with the republic to keep lover!theron happy at the risk of angering lana? do they ally with the empire to keep lover!lana agreeable at the risk of theron leaking their secrets to the sis?

self-care? unless they’re really self-indulgent, the outlander just doesn’t have time for self-care. they, lana and theron probably have all-nighters together just to keep everything up and running. they haven’t eaten in days, caf is in their bloodstream now, and they can barely hold their head up, much less keep their bloodshot eyes open. for all the right reasons, the outlander is probably the unhealthiest person in the alliance. and keep in mind what starvation, malnutrition and sleep-deprivation can do to someone, especially if you exercise a lot (as we see our sprinting outlander do everywhere; hint, brain function drops dramatically)

depression? seperation anxiety? social withdrawal? the outlander probably experiences that all and more. after being told that five years have passed, and their crew hasn’t been found yet, and a whole empire is out to get them? there’s no way that isn’t traumatic enough to have a profound psychological effect on the outlander, causing them at least some form of seperation anxiety from lana or theron (or someone they’re close to) or social withdrawal from just being unable to deal with all anymore. if not that, a whole laundry list of issues that they don’t show on screen.

the psychological effects of valkorian? valkorian bouncing around in the outlander’s head for years on end, you can’t tell me that even after that’s all over (especially the outlander extensively used his powers for their gain), that they aren’t floundering without him. he may have been evil, but he also was nearly their rock through the entire mess of both expansions. he had answers for the outlander when no one else did, he had immense power at his disposal for the outlander if they so chose. now without him, what do they do? they still hope time will stop sometime, so they can ask for more power or get answers to things they don’t understand. there are some pretty close calls following valkorian’s death. they have to be explained somehow.

arcann? if the outlander keeps him around, there is going to be some serious trauma they need to deal with seeing the person that stabbed them once and tried to kill them so many other times. they aren’t going to be all buddy buddy and there sure as hell is way more emotional thought behind shooting down senya’s ship then there is present in-game. and forget about romancing him (unless there’s some odd version of stockholm syndrome going on there) without crying first.

i’ll probably add more as i think about them, but feel free to add your own or use ideas from here! i know these are some of the basis of my own stories :D