#01. *･ﾟ * angel / musings .

[the-solar-panel]

@sageofjustice asked: "You know General..as gentle a lover as you are, i wouldn't mind if you got a little rough~"

"Is that so?" He chuckles softly. "Well, it isn't exactly easy to make me go that route...but I welcome your attempts to try~"

[synthetlcsss]

angelo tag dump

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

[flameindream2]

@maple-alliance​

Lotus was often hesitant to go out into the city—who knew who might recognize him, and (for once) it wasn’t in his best interest to drum up chaos. But the feeling of boredom easily beat out anything like that, so the spirit scurried out to the outskirts of Edelstein for a little breath of fresh air and freedom.

He doesn’t have the energy to go too far, so this thicket is fine. Lotus spends a bit of time watching some birds, before a glint downward catches his eye. Huh... is that a chest, presumably of the treasure variety?

The spirit scrunches down and leans over the box, about to open it... before there’s a noise of footsteps crunching grass. But he was just about to see what was in here!!

“Aren’t you... one of those heroes?”

[ahqkas]

♯ TOO SWEET ; mattheo riddle

❛ i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at 3, you’re too sweet for me ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS! in which mattheo recalled the two times you were too sweet for him (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 4.1k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! consummation of alcohol, lovesick mattheo, fluff, angst, a lot of my hcs for mattheo’s past (i wrote him the way i see him), lmk if i missed smth !!

NOTES! this is purely my view on mattheo’s character bc the hc i wrote suit him sm 😿😿 reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated <3

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

ONCE A MAN FALLS IN LOVE, he finds himself drawn to not just the physical beauty of his muse, but for the essence of who the person truly is - their quirks, intelligence, kindness, and their unique way of seeing the world. Every interaction, every shared experience, every memory he brings, adds another layer to his adoration towards the love of his life.

His love for them is evident in the little things - the way he watches them when they aren't looking, the small gestures of thoughtfulness, the silent support during their dark moments of life. It's in the way he listens, truly listens, to the hopes and dreams, fears and frustrations, always eager to offer his thoughts and ideas. This love manifests in his desire to be their anchor in times of storm, their cheerleader in moments of triumph, and their person in all the in-betweens. It is a love that values their independence and individuality, recognizing that they are their own person with their own journey, and yet, he longs to be a part of that journey, to walk alongside them and share in their joys and sorrows of life.

Mattheo Riddle was no different.

He marvels at your kindness, your sweetness, and the light you bring into his life. You are his muse, his inspiration, a spark of the goodness that stands in stark contrast to his own perceived flaws and insecurities he feels deep inside himself. He sees you as an angel, a pure and radiant being who somehow chose to share your life with him, despite his own imperfections and inner demons.

He sees you as an angel in a human form, who chose to live among the devils, just so he could feel the heavenly touch for the first and last time in all eternity.

He often wonders how he, with all his rough edges, hidden scars, and a past life without a happy memory, could be worthy of your love. He feels like a monster, haunted by past mistakes and burdened by the weight of his own fears and failings. You, on the other hand, are everything he aspires to be - kind, compassionate, and endlessly forgiving. Your presence in his life is a constant reminder of the beauty and grace that he lacks, and yet, your love makes him strive to be better, to rise above his darkness and become someone worthy of your affection.

In his heart, he knows that your love is transforming him, helping him to heal and grow. Your existence is a light that dispels his inner darkness, a reminder for him to cherish that even monsters like him can be loved. He clings to this, that your love is making him a better man, one day at a time.

01. THE PARTY

The Slytherin common room was full of shadows and flickering lights, transformed into a wild moment of freedom for the night. The music, a thundering beat that echoed off the stone walls, could be heard from miles away, yet no professor or ghost visited the common room to cancel the party. It was as if the ancient castle itself had granted this one night of freedom to its most cunning and ambitious students. The rhythmic thrum of bass notes and the infectious melody of the latest wizarding hits filled the air, blending with the sound of laughter and the clink of glasses.

Bodies moved in a hypnotic dance, swaying in sync with the music. The students had discarded their usual aloof demeanors and uniforms, lost in the euphoria and joy of the moment. Green and silver decorations adorned every surface, shimmering under the enchanted lights that hung from the ceiling like glowing jewels. Laughter rang out, high and clear, mingling with the deep, resonant hum of conversation.

In one corner, a group of seventh years huddled together, their heads bent close in a whisper, before erupting into loud laughter. Nearby, a couple twirled around each other, their bodies intertwining like dark waves, eyes locked in their private world amidst the chaos around them. The fireplace, usually a place of quiet contemplation, was now surrounded by students perched on its stone ledge, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the night and alcohol.

Long tables filled with food and drink stretched along one wall, bearing the weight of a feast other students could be jealous of. Platters of magical meals, charmed to stay warm, smelled of aromas that mingled with the scent of butterbeer and stronger beverages. Bottles of firewhisky and elf-made wine were passed from hand to hand, each sip fueling the atmosphere more and more as drunken the students got. The alcohol flowed freely, loosening tongues, transforming even the shyest students into party animals of the night.

The Slytherin common room had never felt so alive. Tonight, they were not just the students of Hogwarts; they were a family, united by their house and their understanding of what it meant to be a Slytherin.

Mattheo Riddle was one of those students who were enjoying themselves tonight. His breathing features were illuminated by the green lights as he leaned casually against a stone wall, a cup of firewhisky filled to the brim in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed perilously close to the edge with each of his slowed gestures, but Mattheo seemed unconcerned, clearly lost in the haze of alcohol. His dark curls, usually styled in the way that made uncountable amount of girls fall on their knees, now fell loose around his face as you watched from a close distance.

He was engaged in a drunken conversation with Theodore Nott, whose tall, lanky frame was the opposite to Mattheo's more athletic build. Theo's typically serious demeanor had softened, his features relaxed into a rare, genuine smile as he listened to Mattheo's ramblings with a giggle threatening to spill out from his lips. The two of them, often seen together, now looked like true brothers. It was almost scary how much they resembled family when they were drunk.

Mattheo's voice, rich and slightly slurred, carried over the music as he recounted a particularly outrageous story from his recent fight. Theodore threw his head back and laughed. It was clear to anyone how close those two boys were, drunk or sober.

"Can you believe he actually thought I was serious?" Mattheo snickered with a big grin stretching across his face, taking a swig from his cup, the whiskey burning a warm path down his throat. "I mean, I barely managed to keep a straight face!"

Theodore laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're a menace, Riddle. One of these days, you're going to get expelled."

"Ah, but tonight isn't that night, mate," Mattheo replied with a slow wink, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To living dangerously and laughing in the face of consequences!"

They clinked their cups together, the sound barely audible over the throbbing beat of the music and you thought now was the best time to approach your boyfriend. 

Mattheo's brown irises scanned the crowd, catching a look of you as you pushed your way through the crowd of dancing bodies. The sight of you instantly brightened his expression and a genuine smile spread across his face. He felt a rush of emotions that the whiskey in his hand only intensified, each beat of his heart echoing with the certainty that what he held for you was pure love. The Slytherin straightened up, his posture shifting from the casual slouch of a carefree boy to the attentive stance of a man. Theodore noticed the change and a knowing smirk made its appearance on his lips as he stepped aside, giving the two of you a moment of privacy. 

"[Name]," your boyfriend called out, his voice full of warmth. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you came closer. "There you are, love."

You beamed up at him, your eyes reflecting the party's enchanted lights, making them look like twin stars. "Having fun, are we?" you teased and the tone of your voice carried a playful match that always managed to make his heart skip a beat. 

"Only now that you're here," he replied. The world around you seemed to blur as he gazed down at you, all the noise and chaos fading into the background. "You make everything better."

Drunk on both the whiskey and his overwhelming affection, the boy's usual reservations melted away. He held you close, his hands resting on your waist as if anchoring himself to your presence. When he was sober or feeling down at heart, his love for you was often hidden beneath layers of stoicism and insecurity, but now, in this moment of happy drunkenness, it shone through. 

He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, enjoying the sweetness of the contact. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't deserve you, but I'm going to spend every day trying to be worthy of your love."

 “You have no idea what you mean to me. I look at you and . . . it’s like you’re the sun and I’m just a planet orbiting around you, soaking up your light,” he continued without a break. The boy wanted to get every one of his words out as fast as humanly possible. To show you his hidden feelings he wasn't able to tell you before. “You’re my everything, [Name]. I don’t know how I got so lucky. You’re so kind, so . . . good. And me? I’m just . . . I’m a mess, you know? A monster sometimes.” 

You shook your head lightly and took his hands into your own, enveloping him with your warmth. He was starting to get emotional, and you didn't need to have your boyfriend drunkenly mopping around. His mood changed like weather when alcohol got involved. “You’re not a monster, Mattheo. You’re human. We all have our demons.”

“But you,” he didn't allow you to finish your sentence before he spoke up again, his voice raw with sincerity, “you make me want to be better. For you. I see you, and I just want to be the man you deserve. I’m not always good at it, but I try. I try because you’re worth it.” 

You could see the glazed look in his eyes as he swayed slightly on the spot. He was rough around the edges, you couldn't deny the truth, but he was the sweetest boy when he managed to fall in love. Which wasn't exactly difficult, Mattheo fell in love easily. But when he did, it was worth everything. Mattheo was your sweet boy. “Love,” you said softly to him, your voice filled with gentle concern to the brim, “you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Maybe it’s time to slow down a little, okay?”

Mattheo blinked, giving you a lopsided grin, his expression a mix of boyish charm and pure happiness. “But I’m fine, [nickname]. I feel great. Better than great, actually. With you here, everything’s perfect.”

“I know you’re having a good time, but I don’t want you to feel terrible tomorrow. Let’s take a break from the firewhisky for now, alright?”

He pouted slightly, his shoulders slumping as he realized you were actually serious. “You’re probably right,” he admitted, a hint of reluctance in his voice. “But only because you’re asking me.” You chuckled softly at his behavior, threading your fingers through his and gently leading him away from the dancing crowd. You navigated through the common room, moving towards a quieter corner of the space where a plush couch sat, inviting you both in with open arms. The room’s enchantments cast soft shadows on the walls, the flickering lights creating a soothing atmosphere.

“Here, sit down,” you instructed as you guided him to sit on the couch. Mattheo obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a contented sigh. You sat beside him, your hand never leaving his. You took the half-empty cup of whiskey from his hold, reaching for a glass of water on the table nearby instead and handing it to him. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Mattheo took the glass, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. He took a long sip, the cool water a welcome relief from the heat of the alcohol he consumed. “You really do take good care of me, don’t you?” he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and exhaustion.

“Someone has to,” you replied playfully, brushing a stray curl of hair from his forehead. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the job.”

As the night wore on, Mattheo felt a warmth spreading through him that was only partly due to the whiskey. It was the warmth of belonging, of being surrounded by friends who understood and accepted him, flaws and all. Despite his often rough exterior, he was deeply grateful for these moments, these stolen hours of joy in the corners of the Slytherin common room.

02 - THE MARK

The past has a profound power to shape a man, especially when that past is influenced by suffering at the hands of a father. 

For Mattheo Riddle, his family history was the darkest shadow of all the shadows that clung to him, a reminder of the pain and fear that had molded his entire life. Raised in a home devoid of warmth, where love was a foreign concept and cruelty was a daily reality, Mattheo had learned to build tall and thick walls around his heart. A shield to protect him from more hurt that would come his way. 

The orphanage was a harsh place, stripped of the luxuries the boy had unknowingly been born into. It was a world of strict discipline and a poor form of affection. The caretakers, overwhelmed and underfunded, had little patience for a child with such a notorious legacy. Mattheo grew up under the weight of whispers and sideways glances, the infamous name "Riddle" ensuring he was never just another child. The women of the orphanage knew his father, having taken care of him when he was around the same age as his son. What a wicked child Tom was. Mattheo was different because of that, marked, and this awareness shaped his formative years in ways he could barely comprehend.

As he grew older, the whispers about his family name became more pronounced. The children at the orphanage were cruel. “Monster,” they called him, creating the very fears that nested within his own heart. He began to internalize these taunts, seeing himself through the lens of his father's sins. The idea that he could be worthy of love seemed more and more distant, more of a fantasy that had no place in his reality. But the same idea of letting someone see past his defenses, of allowing someone to love him despite his flaws, seemed not only impossible but dangerous. For how could anyone love a monster, especially one crafted by his own father?

Despite this, Mattheo yearned for something more. He longed for the kind of love he had never known, a love that was gentle and kind, that saw past his scars and accepted him for who he was. But every time he felt himself getting close to someone, the fear surged up, a wave of doubt and self-loathing washed over him and forced him to retreat behind his walls again. It was a never-ending cycle.

Hogwarts had saved him. 

Mattheo Riddle’s first steps into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were met with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and apprehension. For the other students, he was a figure of whispered rumors, his infamous last name carrying with it a weight of fear and fascination. They had heard the stories of his father’s dark acts, of the legacy that haunted the halls of the castle like a ghost. But for Mattheo himself, Hogwarts represented a new beginning, a chance to escape the personal hell he called the orphanage and create his own path. The boy was no longer just another orphan. Here, he could be anything he wanted to be.

He wasn't deaf. The young boy could feel the weight of his father’s name bearing down on him like an invisible burden. And he wasn't blind either. He saw the way the other students looked at him, their eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and suspicion. They didn’t openly taunt him as the children in the orphanage had done, but he could sense the whispers and the wary glances that followed him wherever he went. For Mattheo, however, their fear was a source of power. He reveled in the attention, in the way his presence commanded respect, even if it was tinged with fear. He was finally someone. 

He excelled in his classes, his natural talent and restless ambition setting him apart from his peers. But it was on the Quidditch pitch that Mattheo truly came into his own. Flying high above the castle grounds, he felt a sense of freedom unlike anything he had ever known. With every twist and turn of his broomstick, he left behind the weight of his past and embraced the thrill of the present, making him feel like a bird. 

Six years had passed since Mattheo Riddle first walked through the grand doors of Hogwarts, a hopeful and determined young wizard with dreams of greatness he was so sure he'd achieve. But now, as he entered his sixth year at the renowned school of magic, the world around him had shifted irrevocably. The return of Lord Voldemort two years prior had plunged the wizarding world into chaos, and with it, Mattheo’s life had been destroyed once again.

Even among his fellow Slytherins, Mattheo felt like an outsider, a traitor to his own house and everything it stood for. He had once prided himself on his ambition and cunning, on his unwavering determination to succeed at any cost. But it didn't matter anymore. 

Mattheo sat alone in the quiet atmosphere of the Astronomy Tower, his gaze fixed on the night sky that sparkled with millions of stars. Each twinkling light seemed to mock him, making fun of the darkness that now stained his soul even more than before. His fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket tightly, as if seeking some comfort in the fabric, but finding none.  

 On his left forearm, the Dark Mark burned like a brand upon his skin. It was a mark of shame, of betrayal, and every time he looked upon it, he felt a sickening sense of disgust and self-loathing. He had thought that by aligning himself with the Dark Lord, his father, he would finally be able to escape the shadows of his past, to prove himself worthy of the name Riddle and his father's presence. But now, he realized that he had only succeeded in plunging himself deeper into the deep hole. Even the orphanage was better than this. 

The footsteps behind him shattered the sweet silence, echoing off the stone walls of the tower. Mattheo tensed, his heart racing as he turned to face the intruder, steeling himself for whatever judgment or punishment awaited him. But as he turned, he was met not with the accusing glare of Filch or the triumphant sneer of a rival, but with the concerned gaze of a familiar face. It was you, with your eyes filled with worry as you approached him slowly, as if he'd disappear if you were a bit louder. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright?”

No, he wasn't alright. But he would be caught dead sooner than having you worry about him like that and more. 

He forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to mask the emotions raging within him. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining the facade. “Just . . . thinking.”

You stepped closer, taking a seat on the ground beside him. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Mattheo. I know something’s been troubling you lately. You can talk to me.”

You were his angel, full of that purity and light he adored about you in a world darkened by his own sins. He longed to confide in you, to unburden himself of the guilt and shame that had consumed him since he had received the Dark Mark. But the fear of your rejection, of you seeing him for the monster he believed himself to be, held him back. It would shatter his heart, to see the pained expression on your face. 

“I . . .” he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the words, "there's something I need to show you." With a heavy heart and trembling hands, Mattheo finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth to you. For months, he had carried the burden of the dark secret alone, pushing you out and shutting you down in an attempt to shield and protect you from the darkness that was his father. But now, as he sat before you, his heart and his soul laid bare, he knew that he could no longer hide from the truth. The boy reached for the sleeve of his jacket, his fingers fumbling as he pushed the fabric up to reveal the twisted lines of the Dark Mark etched upon his skin. The sight of it made him recoil, a wave of shame washing over him as he exposed his deepest, darkest secret to the one person he had sworn to protect.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the mark, your palm flying to your mouth in disbelief. For a long moment, there was silence between the two of you, broken only by the sound of your shallow breathing and the distant hum of the night owls. 

“I received this a few weeks ago," Mattheo confessed, his eyes avoiding yours. "When he decided I was good enough for him."

He felt your gaze on him, eyes searching his face for answers. He could see the confusion and concern written in your expression, but beneath it all, he saw something else - a flicker of understanding and acceptance that filled him with both hope and fear. How can someone be so good to someone like him? "I've been living with the Malfoys ever since," he continued, the words tumbling out in a rush as he struggled to explain himself. "But it's not what you think, [Name]. I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be a part of his plans, to be branded as one of his followers. But I had no choice. He made me do it."   

Tears welled in his eyes as he spoke, and he felt a desperate plea for forgiveness in his chest. He needed you to understand, to see past the mistakes that consumed him and into the depths of his soul where his love for you burned bright and true. The thought of losing you hurt him more than the Cruciatus curse ever could. 

“Forgive me. For shutting you out, for pushing you away. I was scared, I was ashamed . . . but I can't bear to keep this secret from you any longer. You deserve to know the truth, even if it means losing you forever." 

Your heart swelled with a bittersweet mixture of sorrow as you gazed upon Mattheo, your sweet boy, sitting there before you with tears in his eyes and the weight of the world upon his shoulders. In that moment, all you wanted was to wrap him in your arms and shield him from the pain and darkness that threatened to consume him. With shaky hands, you reached out to him, fingers brushing against the mark of his father's followers etched upon his skin. The sight of it filled you with a fit of fierce anger, but beneath it all, you saw the boy you so dearly loved - a boy who had been shaped by his past but who was so much more than the picture of his scars. 

"Love," you whispered into the dark, taking his face into your hands and wiping away those tears that managed to escape his control, "there's nothing to forgive. Nothing in this world could ever tear us apart, not even your father or that mark."

In that moment, Mattheo knew that he would do anything for you, that he would move heaven and earth to ensure your happiness and safety. You were his light in the darkness, his angel in a world filled with demons, and he would cherish that for the time being his heart swelled at the thought of you. You were simply too sweet for him and you knew that Mattheo’s struggles were far from over, but for tonight, that was enough.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[thenewblackcanvas]

Felix Makes Three: 01

chapter: morning talks

❧ synopsis. the morning after, talking is important between the three of you

❧ pairing. bang chan x reader x felix

❧ word count. 1.9k ⁣

❧ themes. cutie felix, polyamory, nervous almost boyfriends  

Waking up with the feel of a different body next to you was a bit strange. 

Not in a bad way. The body you were used to was on the other side of him as you sat up.

Chan begins to stir on the other side. He stretches before mirroring you. “Mornin.”

You smile, taking in his appearance. He always looks good in the morning but this was a little different. His hair, the marks, and the messy bedding around him all made you think about the previous night.

It finally happened last night. Felix stayed after the others left, lending time to make things happen. And happen they did.

Chan kissed him. Then with his flustered and confused glance towards you, you kissed him.

Pulled hair. Bitten skin. Bruised hips. Loud voices.

It finally happened. 

However, you could tell by the more tense smile on his face that something was on his mind.

Tilting your head, he knew what you were going to ask. “just…do you think he got it?”

You both glanced back. The angelic figure between you was still fast asleep. Messy blonde hair was all you could see. “How could he not?”

A sigh came out before he explained. “We didn’t exactly talk about anything.”

“Everyone was doing alot of avoiding on each side.” you raised a brow at him, he knew what you were referring to. “So we went with the showing rather than telling first.”

“But how do we know?” He flopped back on the bed, bouncing Felix slightly with the force.

You shifted to look at his distressed form. “We still have to talk about it but I think the ice is more than broken.”

Chan sighs heavily, the topic obviously weighing heavily already. “I need to get up. I should go to the stud-”

“No” you shut it down quickly. “You should probably be here when he wakes up, and if you go to the studio you won’t be back until tomorrow.” He nods, knowing you're right.

“Maybe I should make breakfast. Something special!” He muses to himself as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. He pulls on comfy pants from the floor excitedly, thanks to whatever is going on in his head.

“No no something normal is fine. Don’t cook when you're stressed, it leads to bad things,” you say, pulling on a shirt from your side of the floor. Sliding to sit back under the covers, you realize he isn’t listening anymore.

He brainstorms options at you(not with you) then claps excitedly before pausing. “I didn’t wake him did I?” You look over. Barely catching the blonde closing his eyes back, you smile at Chan “Nope, still in lalaland.”

“Ok! I’m gonna make something delicious.”

Though you highly doubt that, he leaves and you wait a moment.

“Ok he’s gone.”

Felix opens one eye first before opening both with a soft pout.

“What wrong, Lixxie?” a soft hand strokes his hair.

“I’m scared where we go from here.” You guess he must have woken up around breakfast talk, completely missing Chan’s distress.

“I don’t know why either of you are so worried. You know, wherever we go it’ll be together.”

“Yeah..but I want it to be together together.”

“Yeah, me too. That’s why Chan is up nervously making you breakfast so he doesn’t stay in bed fidegting and wake you up.”

“Really?”

You shift to fully face him resting your head on your knees. “Do you know how long it took to convince him to just brooch the subject with you? He was convinced you would hate him and feel uncomfortable around him. The thought alone made him cry.”

“Oh hyung” he mumbled teary eyed at the thought of his best friend crying.

“We considered that this would be a one and done for you. I prepped him for that possiblity just in case but…”

“But?”

“But I know you. Even before you said you want us to be “together together” i knew you felt the way we did.” your hand softly cards through his hair as his eyes close. Two little tear drops fall from this but he wears a smile. The door opens and you both look over.

“Baby, I need he-” Chan sticks his head in but stops as he notices Felix is awake. “Lix! I didn’t wake you did I?”

He smiles. “No, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good!” Chan still seems worried but is satisfied enough to get back to the matter at hand. He’d somehow forgotten a step in his pancakes but not wanting to start over. You sighed as you stood up. Putting on your slippers, you looked back to Felix. “You rest. I’ll fix this then let you know when things are edible again.”

He watched you follow Chan out to fix his stress mistake. As he layed in the big bed that smelled mainly like Chan, he listened to the sounds from outside the door. The laughter and happiness made his heart want this all the time.

He was still unsure that the universe could actually give him something this good but he would take it for as long as he could.

[tinydeskwriter]

Cinema

{model!actress!y/n x harrystyles; there may be some holivia}

friends turn to lovers turn to (supportive and extremely close) best friends and all the while she was the love of his life

y/n y/l/n IG:

{y/n is a British model, influencer, businesswoman and actress, she started modeling at 13 in 2009, after being discovered while shopping at Harrods with her mother, in 2015 she founded Muse, a inclusive skincare, haircare, makeup and lingerie brand, she became a Victoria’s Secret Angel in 2016, the youngest in the brand history, as an actress, Y/n is known for her roles in more indie movies, since 2020 she has concierge96 a newsletter and podcast that she initially started to help disclose relevant information about Covid and quarantine.}

{y/n and Harry became friends in 2012, dated briefly in 2013 and again 2014-2015, they remained friends after their break up, with y/n even going to Jamaica with him in 2016, while already in her on-and-off relationship with musician Abel ‘the Weeknd’ Tesfaye, that last from 2015 til 2019. y/n casually dated singer/songwriter Charlie Puth in 2020.}

{songs about y/n: The Weeknd- Scared to Live; After Hours; Escape From LA; Too Late; Wasted Times; Angel | Harry Styles: Sweet Creature; Only Angel; Woman; From the Dining Table; Golden; Watermelon Sugar; Adore You; To Be So Lonely; She; Sunflower; Canyon Moon; Fine Line | Charlie Puth- Hilarious }

CHAPTERS:

0.{DON’T CALL ME BABY}(29/01) 1.{BOYFRIENDS}(31/01) 2.{TONIGHT IS GOING TO BE THE LONELIEST}(03/02) 3.{coming soon}

[rainforestakiie]

omega lucifer x omega adam part 05! so excited! the fall in next part!

lucifer and adam meets eve again! and she's after a lot more then just learning about being an omega! also, adam sees why lucifer is considered to be one of the most fearful angels~

Nest of the Damned (Omegaverse Omega/Omega) Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04. Part 05. Extra 01.

Full Version

Their heat lasted nearly two weeks, a period marked by sheer luck and chance. Their minds cleared only for brief intervals, just long enough to realise their need for sustenance. In those fleeting moments, they would dart out of their nest, driven by desperation, to hastily gather whatever they could find. If Lucifer wasn’t the one jolting awake, it was Adam, each taking turns to hurriedly scavenge for food and water. Their intense bond made it unbearable to be apart, compelling them to grab the first things they saw.

At last, their heat subsided, leaving the two Omegas lying side by side in exhaustion. Their bodies were spent, burning, and tingling after countless hours of unrelenting passion. Neither could move much, their fingers barely entwined as they lay on their backs, breathing heavily and gazing up at the delicate purple and pink flowers above them.

“Are…” Lucifer licked his swollen, sore lips. His pale skin was adorned with marks of love and passion. “Are you okay?”

Adam didn’t respond immediately. His body was a mirror image of Lucifer’s. “Hmm, I feel… happy? But also… sore.”

“I’m happy too,” the angel sighed. Summoning all the remaining strength within him, Lucifer squeezed Adam’s hand, feeling a surge of pride at this small act.

Sniffling, Adam’s eyelids began to droop. Fatigue took hold, and he found himself drifting off, only to force himself awake again. "Luci, what was that? Why did we feel like that?"

Lucifer sucked in his lips, his cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk’s. "I... I don't know... that’s never happened to me before."

"Was it because we ate the apple?" Adam asked, his voice becoming soft and low. "Was it our punishment from God?"

Lucifer didn't want to agree, he really didn't. But considering the sudden burst of heat and the overwhelming need for passion was something new, and it had occurred immediately after they ate the apple of knowledge, the coincidence seemed too likely to be dismissed.

"It's likely..." he mumbled quietly, his eyes fluttering half-lidded. "It wasn't bad, was it?"

"Well... it hurt when we weren't... you know," Adam replied. He squirmed a little, trying to roll onto his side. His face scrunched up from the aches and pains that wracked his body. It wasn't a terrible pain; it was almost enjoyable. "What about you? How do you feel?"

Seeing Adam's successful attempt to roll onto his side, despite feeling so exhausted and spent, Lucifer felt compelled to do the same. It took him longer, hindered by his numb wings, but he eventually managed to meet Adam's gaze.

"I felt the same way. It was like we were being burned from the inside out," Lucifer said thoughtfully.

"A heat," Adam mused. "Like the animals in the summer."

Lucifer raised a weak hand to brush Adam's thick hair out of his face, his fingers caressing along Adam's cheeks. He smiled as Adam closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. "Are you mad at me?"

"About the apple?" the human Omega questioned softly. "A little."

"I'm sorry," Lucifer murmured, his voice laced with deep remorse. “I know it was wrong, but I just…I just wanted to heal you. To undo the damage that was done. It was my fault you got hurt, because I was selfish and arrogant.”

With a tender hum, Adam leaned forward, their faces touching as he nuzzled Lucifer with a comforting purr. His hands traced along Lucifer’s pale skin, gently caressing his mating glands. Lucifer shuddered from the touch, causing Adam’s emerald eyes to light up with affection.

“I forgive you,” Adam whispered softly, a gentle rumble emanating from his throat. “I know you did it for me. The heat was frightening, but it was bearable because of you, because I had you by my side. That means everything to me. You didn’t leave me alone.”

Lucifer's own rumble echoed Adam’s, and the Archangel enveloped them both in his wings once more. He pressed their aching bodies together, burying his face into Adam’s shoulder. Slowly, tremors coursed through Lucifer as his hands shifted from tense to gentle.

“Why are you crying?” Adam asked softly, slipping his arms around the Angel. His hands moved soothingly up and down Lucifer’s back, while the other hand gently stroked the back of Lucifer’s head, fingers running through the soft golden curls. “Were you really worried I would be angry at you?”

"Of course," Lucifer whimpered, tightening his embrace. He sniffled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he hiccuped painfully. "I thought...thought you might be furious with me, you might even hate me."

"Why would you think that?" Adam cooed softly.

Lucifer pulled back to meet Adam's gaze. His sapphire blue eyes were glassy and watery, tears gathering at the corners. "Because I'm a bad person, Adam! I'm a terrible, terrible person, an awful Angel! It's my fault you got hurt! I was too selfish! I didn’t want Lilith to see how beautiful you are and take you away! I wanted you to be my Omega, and the thought of her wanting you broke me! I couldn't stand seeing you with someone else!"

"Why would you think Lilith would ever want to be with me?" Adam tilted his head in curiosity. "Lilith hates me. From the very beginning, from the moment she was created, she looked at me with disdain. She was never kind to me, never enjoyed my company. Lilith went out of her way to avoid me long before you started spending time with her. Lilith was never nice to me."

Lucifer's bottom lip quivered, and he shook his head furiously. "You just don't understand. You just don't see yourself the way I do. Adam, you're the most gorgeous Omega I've ever seen! Lilith would have noticed eventually, and it hurt to think of her noticing...it hurt to think of you both noticing each other."

"You... were made for one another... and I..." Lucifer's face scrunched up, his chest aching. "You and Lilith were destined to be together, to be the parents of humanity, and I'm just an Angel. I wasn't made for you, but I wish I was. I wish I was so very badly, and I..."

Cupping Lucifer's blue cheek, Adam caressed the soft flesh with a tender kiss. "But you're wrong. We were made for each other."

"But..." Lucifer whimpered.

"Luci, it was just you and me at the beginning, remember?" Adam said lovingly. "Before Lilith's creation, it was just us. God created both you and me; Lilith was different, wasn't she?"

Nodding slowly, Lucifer snuggled in closer, his panic and fear beginning to settle. "Lilith was created by us, the Angels. Or well, Uriel, really, with Michael and Sera overseeing."

"Exactly!" Adam squealed adorably. He smothered Lucifer's face in butterfly kisses, making his loving Omega mate giggle. "God created us, so he made us for each other. There's a difference."

"I still shouldn't have made Lilith believe we were going to mate..." Lucifer sighed, returning the butterfly kisses just as sweetly. "It's my fault she hurt you. Because I tricked her, I wanted to make sure she would never desire you, so I made sure she never looked your way. In doing that... she hurt you because I manipulated her."

"Do you feel sorry for doing that to her?" Adam asked softly.

Lucifer looked away shamefully. "No, I don't. I'm sorry she hurt you. I'm so, so sorry you got hurt because of my actions. That's what I regret. But I don't regret tricking her to have you. I would do it again if I had to."

"At least you're honest," Adam teased, a soft blush on his cheeks. Lucifer would really do anything to be with him? It warmed his heart. "I don't hate you at all, Luci. I love you. I love you more than anything. I could never hate you. Never."

A rumbling purr of happiness escaped Lucifer. "You forgive me for tricking you into eating the apple?"

"I knew you tricked me!" Adam gasped before giggling in amusement. "You're really good at doing that."

Raising an eyebrow, Lucifer tilted his head. "I'm good at manipulating to get my way?"

"Yes," the human Omega snorted. His expression was more than adorable, it was something new that Lucifer would never forget. "I guess it's your talent."

Lucifer was unsure of what to say, unsure if it was a good thing or not. But still, his chest bubbled with warmth from how sweet and beautiful Adam was. He immediately kissed him, unable to stop himself. Maybe it was a good thing his mate appreciated his... cheekiness? Yes, it was his cheekiness. 

Even if Lucifer did enjoy being a snake…

“I love you, even the tricks and words you use!” Adam added with a laugh. “I don’t care if you do that that thing - manipulating, I love you anyway~”

~#~

Their heats became a cherished routine, a rhythmic dance that intertwined their souls every three months. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, but the experience was comforting and intimate. It was best when they nestled in their shared sanctuary, a cocoon of comfort and warmth. The intensity of their connection grew with each cycle, their bond strengthening like an unbreakable thread.

Lucifer had given him the apple, hoping to undo the damage Lilith had inflicted. Although the apple hadn't fully healed Adam—he still bore the nasty scar, and his glands hadn't regrown—he had gained something new. Adam still couldn't release his own scent or detect Lucifer's Omega scent, but he could feel it. He could sense Lucifer's presence, like butterflies dancing across his skin. Even when Lucifer wasn't nearby, Adam felt his essence. He might have lost parts of his inner Omega, but he discovered new aspects that were still unfolding.

A giggle escaped Adam as his skin tingled from another sweet wave of sensation, akin to wings caressing him, even though Lucifer's wings were nowhere near. It felt like being cuddled by feathers, a sensation that brought a bright smile to Adam's face. His emerald eyes sparkled as he crawled closer to the slumbering Omega Archangel. Lucifer lay curled on his side, his soft wings spread across their nest, fluttering with each gentle snore.

He was so adorable.

Adam moved closer, sitting on his knees beside the sleeping Angel. He giggled again as Lucifer's Omega pheromones washed over him like delicate feathers. With tender fingers, Adam brushed the blonde curls from Lucifer's face. A soft blush bloomed on Lucifer's cheeks, and while Adam could feel Lucifer's Omega scent, he wondered if Lucifer could sense his unscented pheromones.

With a loving touch, Adam leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Lucifer’s rosy cheek. He then whispered, "I wonder if you can feel me, the way I feel you." His heart swelled with affection, knowing that even without a scent, their bond was palpable, a beautiful testament to their unbreakable connection.

"You make me happy. Even if there were rough patches, you make me so happy. I don't understand how I can feel so much joy; it's like my heart is going to burst," Adam whispered, careful not to disturb Lucifer's sleep. He touched his chest, feeling his heart pound. "I don't really understand everything I feel; there are so many things I don't know. But I'm not scared. I'm not scared because I'm with you, and you make me feel so happy..."

Lucifer made a soft sound in his sleep, humming gently as Adam continued to run his fingers through his soft blonde hair. Adam smiled down at him with such love that it physically hurt.

"And I'm sorry... I'm sorry you had to give up everything to be with me in Eden. It's not fair that you were punished just because we love each other. It's not fair you can never go home, back to Heaven." Adam bit his bottom lip. "It's not fair you lost your siblings because you wanted to be with me... but I'm still happy, even though you lost everything. I-I'm s-still happy I get to be with you..."

Adam sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his other hand. "That makes me sound selfish, doesn't it? I'm selfish and awful because I am glad you're down here with me and not up there. I hated it when you would leave me to go back to Heaven. I really hated that feeling of being left behind."

Did it make him awful? Did it make him terrible? Adam just wanted to be with Lucifer forever. The Archangel was his lover, his mate, his everything. And it hurt every time Lucifer had to return to Heaven. Adam really didn't like it when his mate left him behind. So he was happy when Lucifer was banished from Heaven because that meant they could stay together.

And that makes him a terrible person! He was so selfish!

Adam was broken from his sad thoughts by a sound. A branch snapping outside the purple blossoms hanging like a wall. His green eyes scanned the inside of the purple wisteria, gazing softly at the glittering sunlight shining between the petals. Adam shuffled on his knees, leaning forward with his head tilted to the left, straining his ears. After a while, when Adam didn't hear anything and Lucifer let out another adorable sneeze in his slumber, the Omega immediately returned to his loving mate.

Lucifer's wings fluttered in his sleep, appearing inviting. Adam was just about to crawl into the wings and snuggle up to sleep too, deciding to store his worrying thoughts away, when he heard another sound. This time it was much closer to their purple wisteria, and Adam sprung up with wide eyes.

He could see a shadow on the other side of the flower wall. Somebody was definitely outside!

Curiosity mixed with anxiety filled him. His hairs stood on end. Who would come close to their nest? Who would dare enter their domain? Fear began to rear its head, and Adam glanced towards Lucifer, wondering if he should wake up his mate. Adam would feel much safer with Lucifer at his side!

...but... but Lucifer needed to sleep. Adam didn't want to disturb his rest!

Inhaling deeply, Adam turned back to the purple flowers. His stomach churned as he made his decision. The human Omega climbed to his wobbly feet, beginning to approach the flowers, only to stop. Adam's emerald eyes flickered down on himself, gazing at his pale skin and feeling a deep blush spread across his cheeks in horrified realisation.

He was naked! He didn't want to walk around in front of somebody who wasn't Lucifer like this! It was the first time Adam had ever felt such embarrassment and horror. He tilted his head, eyes landing on the robe Lucifer had given him. His Angel hadn't taught him how to wear it yet, but Adam grabbed it, wrapping himself up in it. It was a bit of a struggle to position it similarly to how Lucifer wore his, but it would have to do! Adam was sure Lucifer would teach him later.

Adam ducked beneath the cascading blossoms of purple wisteria, their sweet fragrance enveloping him. He squinted his emerald eyes, peering into the lush expanse of the Garden of Eden. It didn’t take long for him to spot the figure prowling outside their sanctuary.

A woman.

She bore a striking resemblance to Lilith, but her thick red curls and large brown eyes set her apart. Her skin was kissed by a constellation of freckles. Although Adam couldn't catch her scent, he sensed her Omega nature. His stomach tightened, and he stiffened. Had she come to their nest because of Lucifer? Could she detect his pheromones?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Adam shuffled his feet, his hair standing on end as he glanced over his shoulder. The idea of someone taking his mate away filled him with dread.

"Um..." He turned back to the woman, awkwardly. "Why are you here?"

She jumped in surprise, a radiant smile spreading across her lips. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" Adam blinked, confused.

"Because you're an Omega, like me," she said, stepping forward cautiously. "I wanted to meet the other Omegas of Eden. Lilith, my Alpha, told me about you and your mate."

Adam's eyes narrowed, his skin prickling at the mention of Lilith. So, this woman was his replacement. Sera had created a new Omega for Lilith. "You shouldn’t be here."

"But I just wanted to talk to you." The woman's smile faltered, her brows knitting together in sadness. "I don’t understand why that’s a bad thing."

"You—you should leave," Adam forced out, his voice wavering between compassion and protectiveness. This was their sanctuary, their nest, and this woman was an outsider. An Omega no less. It wasn't safe for her to be in their domain. "Leave," he repeated, his voice gaining strength only to falter slightly. "P-please."

The female Omega blinked at him, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. Some expressions were foreign to Adam, leaving him puzzled. Suddenly, her brown eyes seemed to light up with understanding, and she tilted her head, gazing thoughtfully at him.

"You don't smell that, do you?" she asked abruptly. "Is it the same reason why I can smell you?"

Adam's spine stiffened, his posture straightening as he tried to keep his voice steady and firm, masking his nervousness under her penetrating gaze. "T-that's something personal. It doesn't—it has nothing to do with you, s-so please just leave now. I don't—I don't like that you're here, so close to my nest."

"Nest!" she exclaimed suddenly, stepping forward once more. She placed a hand over her chest, her expression filled with awe. "What's a nest? And why does my heart flutter at the mention of a nest? Do you have one? Can I see it?"

"N-no," Adam inhaled deeply, trying to steady his racing heart. "No, that's private. You—nobody is allowed to see an Omega's nest unless invited by the Omega."

"You're an Omega," the woman pointed out with a soft chuckle. "You won't invite me?"

Adam's mouth fell slack as he shook his head. "No, I won't invite you into my nest. It's a private, intimate thing. Outsiders aren't allowed in."

"I'm an outsider?" the female Omega asked with a hint of amusement. "Me?"

"Yes," Adam nodded, his fingers nervously tangling in the white robe he wore. "So leave now, please and thank you."

Instead of leaving, the woman tilted her head in curiosity. "What is that?" she asked, gesturing to the white robe. "Why do you hide yourself under it? Lilith and I don’t have those things. What are they for?"

Adam glanced down at his robe, its fabric soft and flowing around him. "It's... It gives me comfort and protection. We all have our own ways of feeling safe."

The red-haired Omega continued to gaze at Adam, her eyes boring into him with an intensity that made him want to turn and flee. The mere thought of her invading his nest, disrupting the sanctuary he and Lucifer had painstakingly created, was horrifying. It was too much for him to back down and let her pass. Adam's heart raced, the pulse pounding in his ears. He also couldn't bear the thought of her seeing Lucifer as he was, sleeping peacefully in the nude.

"Lilith told me about you," she said softly. "She said you couldn't be trusted. A bad Omega, one who would go out of their way to take what doesn't belong to them."

Adam's face contorted in pain, his lips trembling as he exhaled softly. "Lilith...doesn't like me. She has never liked me. It's understandable she would say those things, considering her feelings."

"Why doesn't she like you?" the woman asked.

"I don't know," Adam shrugged, glancing away. "I guess I annoyed her too much. I never took anything that belonged to her. She was told 'no.' That should have been enough, that should have ended the...disagreement."

The female Omega fell silent again, her eyebrows furrowing in thought, her lips curling crookedly. Adam continued to watch her, hoping she had learned enough and would leave, but she remained standing before him with no intention of departing.

"You're mated to another Omega, aren't you?" she finally asked, making Adam sigh. "Lilith said that was wrong. Was that a disagreement? She claimed you took away her mate, that before I was created, she had a mate you tricked and lured away."

"She's wrong," Adam said, his voice trembling. He bit his bottom lip and clenched his hands together. "It's not about whether mating with this person is wrong, it's about being with the person who makes you happy, who makes you feel loved. My mate and I, we were already close before Lilith was made. It was us from the beginning...and..."

Adam paused to steady himself. He raised his apple-green eyes to meet the woman. "And you can't claim ownership over a person. Nobody can. That's cruel and a horrible thing to do. Nobody belongs to anybody, we're all free."

"Free..." she whispered in awe. "Nobody can own somebody?"

Adam nodded firmly. "That's right. Lilith never had ownership over my mate. He might have been misguided in some of his actions, but he never approached her with the intention to mate. The moment he realised what she wanted, he told her 'no.' It was Lilith who wouldn't accept that."

"No means no, in every way," Adam stated firmly. "You can't force somebody to love you. You can't force somebody to care for you. You can't force somebody to mate with you. You can't compel someone to be with you for the rest of their life."

The female Omega opened her mouth but then shut it again. Her eyes grew glassy, her pupils dilating. Her crimson curls shimmered in the sunlight of Eden. "No means no. No matter what. You can't force somebody to love you. To mate with you."

Adam tilted his head innocently. "Are you happy?"

"What?" She jumped, startled.

"Are you happy with Lilith?" Adam asked. "Is she being nice to you?"

The Omega didn't answer immediately. She appeared to be genuinely considering Adam's words, her face pinching uncomfortably. "Happy? I...I want to be happy. Why does it matter if I'm happy or not? I don't understand."

"Of course it matters if you're happy. My mate makes me extremely happy. I'm the happiest when I am with him," Adam explained as softly and tenderly as possible. His chest fluttered with warmth at the thought of his beloved mate. Lucifer always made him happy; even when he was sad, Lucifer would cheer him up with ease. "You mate for love, nothing else. There should be no strings attached. Love and happiness are the two most important things in a mating courtship. Are you happy with Lilith? Does she treat you kindly? Do you love each other?"

"I care about her greatly..." the other whispered. Finally, thank God, she took a step back. Her amber eyes lowered as she chewed her cherry-red bottom lip. "I'm not sure what love is, but I care about Lilith so much. I don't know if...if she cares about me too. She does take care of me, she makes sure I'm fed and that I am comfortable. Lilith has been nice to me; she has never been mean, but cold. She has been cold to me at times."

It sounded better than his own relationship with Lilith. The Alpha had never taken care of him. She had never treated him kindly or gone out of her way to ensure he was comfortable. Maybe there was a chance at happiness for her with this new Omega. His replacement...but Adam felt no bitterness towards her at all. He just hoped for the best.

Adam was in love with his best friend. He had mated with his closest friend. He was happy with his mate. He wanted Lilith to find the same with her own mate. This female Omega, meant to be Adam's replacement, could be just that for Lilith...and then...maybe she would stop blaming him for Lucifer choosing him.

"What's your name?" the female Omega asked suddenly. "I'm named Eve."

"O-Oh, I'm Adam," he said sheepishly, nodding.

"I-I should head back now," Eve said, taking another step back. Her shiny brown eyes seemed much brighter than before, and Adam wondered if he had been the cause of the change. "I don't want Lilith to worry. I have been gone too long. I should head back to her now..."

Adam awkwardly waved. "That's a good idea."

"You know..." Eve paused as she began to turn away. "You're not what I thought you would be. I was expecting something else, but I guess there's a lot more to question than just the Angels' rules and restrictions."

Blinking in confusion, Adam raised an eyebrow. What did she think he would be like? What rules and restrictions was Eve talking about? Had he changed from what he was? That was possible!

"Could it have been the apple?" he mused softly to himself.

Eve perked up at the words. "Apple?"

"O-Oh, it's nothing—nothing! Pretend I didn't say anything!" Adam hurriedly replied.

The other Omega gave a small, not fully convinced nod before she turned completely around and began making her way back down to the forest. Adam waited until she was fully out of sight before spinning to face the purple wisteria. He leaned towards the soft indigo blossoms, inhaling their gentle fragrance. He inched forward, gently brushing his fingertips across the petals before finally ducking back underneath. He slipped back inside, where his nest and mate were waiting.

...where his mate was wide awake and sitting up, staring at Adam the moment he slipped through the hanging flowers.

"Luci!" Adam squealed in happiness. "You're awake! You're supposed to be resting!"

Automatically, Lucifer's arms reached for the human, his blue eyes shining like diamonds as Adam wasted no time throwing himself into a hug. Their arms embraced one another tightly. Adam nuzzled his face into Lucifer's neck with a purr, immediately feeling ten times better now that he was in Lucifer's arms.

"You were so patient with her," Lucifer murmured softly, returning Adam's rumbling purr with his own. His large white wings unfolded and cocooned around them. "I would have been less understanding."

Tilting his head back to meet Lucifer's eyes, Adam hummed. "She was too close."

"Yes, she came too close to our nest. She should not have done that. I gave her a warning when I saw her entering our domain the other day." Lucifer sighed, resting his forehead against Adam's. "But you were so good with her and kept your boundaries in place. I'm so proud of you."

A laugh escaped Adam, and he beamed in return. "She was made as my replacement."

"You can never be replaced," Lucifer grunted with a snort. "Perhaps as the mother of humanity, but you can't be replaced in general. You're one of a kind."

The two shared a loving kiss after the statement. Adam giggled as his arms looped around the Angel's neck. Lucifer's own hands brushed along the white robe Adam had hastily tied around himself, an amused grin taking over his lips—he'd have to teach Adam how to wear it correctly.

"But it sounds like their relationship is a good one," Lucifer spoke while pressing more kisses across Adam's face, down his throat, and to his shoulders, where Lucifer began to scent him. Granted, he knew Adam couldn't smell his pheromones, but Adam could feel them! "Sure, it is only the beginning of a relationship. It's fragile, but it sounds like Lilith and Eve are building a healthy one."

Purring, Adam pressed himself back against Lucifer. His eyes grew glassy as he felt Lucifer's Omega scent washing over his skin in ways he had never felt before. Adam sighed, resting his head against Lucifer's shoulder. "I just want them to be happy. I want us to be happy."

"They will be, and we will be," Lucifer promised, cuddling Adam once again. "I’m sure we will all be happy."

Adam smiled, pressing a kiss to Lucifer’s exposed shoulder. His emerald eyes caught sight of the yellow apple still lying just on the edge of their nest. It hadn't been touched or moved since they had shared a bite months ago.

Swallowing thickly, Adam felt an inexplicable worry gnawing at him. It was as if he had made a mistake, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. He tried to think more about it, but his beautiful and stunning mate quickly regained his attention.

Another laugh escaped Adam as he fell back onto their nest. Lucifer moved above him, his blue eyes shimmering with pure love and delight. The two were so madly in love with one another and their connection only grew stronger as time passed.

~#~

Adam hummed softly, his fingers gliding through Lucifer's wings with a reverent touch. His eyes were sharp, discerning the worn feathers with precision before gently removing them, allowing the new, vibrant ones to flourish. The feathers came out effortlessly, needing no force, as if they were whispering secrets as they fell. The human Omega knelt at Lucifer's right side, tending to the inner wing with meticulous care, while Lucifer focused on his left, bending it inward with a slow, deliberate motion.

Lucifer's six vast wings made the task arduous and time-consuming, a process that stretched over hours for both. Alone, it had taken Lucifer twice as long. Despite Lucifer's insistence that Adam wasn't obliged to help, the endearing human eagerly seized any opportunity to touch the angel's delicate wings. Adam found an unexpected joy in grooming Lucifer's feathers, an act that tethered him closer to the ethereal being.

A sudden giggle escaped Adam when Lucifer's upper right wing shifted, the tip of its feathers brushing against his neck with deliberate intent. Adam glanced at his mate, seeing Lucifer still absorbed in his task. Dismissing it as an accident, Adam returned to his work, only to squeal in surprise as the feathers trailed from his neck to the small of his back, leaving a tingling path.

Startled, Adam snapped his head around, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at Lucifer. The angel met his gaze with a look of feigned innocence, a slight tilt of the head adding to the facade.

"Are you okay, Adam?" Lucifer asked, his voice honeyed and perhaps too sweet.

Adam hummed a response, nodding curtly. "Just peachy."

Lucifer's grin flashed, revealing pearly-white teeth before his blue eyes returned to the middle left wing in his hands. Adam continued to eye his lover suspiciously for a few moments before resuming his own task. But unlike before, when the top wing had merely brushed his neck and shoulder, Adam gasped sharply and jolted when a warm, wet tongue licked the back of his neck. A powerful shudder raced up his spine, making him sit up straight.

"Luci!" he squealed, his hand clamping over the scarring of his glands as he spun around, his face flushing hot.

"What~" Lucifer cooed, the picture of innocence. "I didn't do anything~"

"Sure you didn't." Adam pouted, his eyes gleaming with his own mischievous ideas. He shifted to get comfortable, fingers softly sliding across the feathers in his lap. His green eyes watched Lucifer from the corner of his vision, catching the archangel giggling to himself, his cheeks warming.

When Adam was certain Lucifer's attention was elsewhere, he twisted around and pressed a butterfly kiss against Lucifer's exposed mating glands. A startled yelp escaped Lucifer, his back arching as all six wings fluttered. His eyes widened as he clamped a hand over his neck, head snapping around to stare at Adam.

"What~" Adam echoed, shrugging innocently. "I'm not doing anything~"

"Oh really?" Lucifer teased, his voice a soft purr as he began to crawl forward with tantalising slowness. His delicate white wings arched elegantly, spreading over his back in a display of ethereal beauty. "You're not doing anything at all~"

Adam's face turned a brilliantly delicious shade of red. "Nope, nothing at all, and even if I did, you started it~"

"Ah! I started it, did I~" The Archangel's lips curved into a wide grin, revealing teeth as white as snowflakes. The sight made Adam's insides twist with delight. "If I started it, then I better finish it!"

A laughing squeal escaped Adam's throat as he fell backward. Lucifer pounced like a playful lion, even letting out a pretend roar. The two Omegas tumbled together in the nest, their giggles soon blossoming into full-blown laughter.

It was a perfect day. A day filled with love, joy, and the ever-deepening bond between two souls who grew closer with each passing second.

It was supposed to be a good day!

...until it wasn't...

A sparkling rock burst through the cascading purple blossoms of the wisteria, hitting the trunk of the beautiful tree before skittering across the ground. It rolled into their nest, coming to a stop right next to the two Omegas. They both tilted their heads, large eyes filled with confusion as they stared at the stone.

"A stone?" Adam asked, rolling onto his stomach and beginning to crawl towards it. He reached out a hand to touch the stone, but Lucifer practically climbed onto his back, pushing him away with protective urgency. His fluffy, feathered white wings folded over Adam like a shield.

Adam looked back with wide, apple-green eyes. "It's just a rock."

"You can never be too sure," Lucifer grunted, using the tip of his top right wing to brush against the stone.

When nothing happened, Adam flashed a smug grin. "See, it's just a stone! There's nothing dangerous or worrying about it! So let me pick it up~"

"No, nope." Lucifer flipped himself over Adam, hunching protectively above the rock. "You can never be too sure. It could be dangerous."

A snort escaped Adam, and he blushed when Lucifer gave him a stern look. Folding his arms under his head, he lay his chin on top of them, kicking his feet lightly in amusement. His emerald eyes sparkled with mischief, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"It's just a stone~" he sang again.

Lucifer's eyebrows twitched, and he shot Adam another look that sent his Omega giggling. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Lucifer wearily curled his fingers around the stone and finally picked it up. He rolled it over in the palm of his hand, gazing at its shiny, sparkly surface. His eyebrows rose as he studied it, realising it was one of the most beautiful stones he had ever seen.

Well, almost. It wasn't as beautiful as the stone Adam had found for him all those years ago, now lovingly woven into their nest. Lucifer often looked at that stone when he felt sad or lonely, finding solace in its presence when Adam wasn't around.

"It's..." Lucifer began, turning the stone over in his hand. It was pretty. Yes. Just pretty. It was nowhere near the beauty of the stones Adam had gifted him over the years. "Just a rock."

Adam released a laugh, perking up like a meerkat. "I told you! I win!"

"You win, huh?" the Archangel hummed, tightening his fingers around the rock and tilting his head towards Adam. His azure eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned towards him. "You win? And what do you win? What's your reward?"

"I get a reward?" Adam moved to his knees, meeting his mate halfway. His hand rose to cup Lucifer's cheek, and the Angel immediately leaned into the touch with a purr. Adam began to move closer, aiming for a loving kiss. Lucifer's eyes even began to close, expecting the kiss—only it never happened!

With a joyful cheer, Adam took the stone and pulled back, a smug smile on his lips as he looked at the bewildered Archangel. "I learned that from you~"

"Oh." Lucifer blinked in a daze. He glanced down at his empty hand and then back at Adam. "You learned it from me...that does seem like something I might have done."

"You did! You did it to me many times before!" Adam chirped, turning the stone over in his hand. "Don't you remember? It's how you always found out my secrets. I could never hide anything from you."

Lucifer felt a swell of pride for his adorable Omega using one of his tricks. He shrugged; his siblings didn't call him Eden's snake for nothing. Lucifer didn't care, really; he was just proud. So he crawled after Adam and playfully pushed himself into Adam's side, his head nuzzling into Adam's neck.

"It's just a rock," he grumbled. "Why are you so interested in it?"

"Because it came out of nowhere," Adam said, looking up at the trunk. He could see a small indent from the impact of the rock. "It was thrown at us. Who would throw it at our nest, Luci?"

Who would throw a rock at them? At their nest? Oh, it wasn’t a hard guess.

Lucifer's face darkened, his lips twisting into a harsh scowl. His eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. His wings shuddered, flaring out protectively on either side. Lucifer bit down on his bottom lip, tightening his arms around Adam as he stayed pressed against his Omega's side.

He sensed it this time and threw his right wing up, shoving Adam down just in time. The second rock flew over them and struck the trunk.

"Somebody who's going to regret it," he growled, baring his teeth as he twisted towards the direction the stones came from.

"Luci?" Adam poked his head out from behind the feathered wings. "Calm down, I'm sure they didn't mean any harm."

Adam crawled quickly after his mate, leaping onto Lucifer's back just as the Angel prepared to fly. A startled yelp escaped Lucifer as they both fell onto their stomachs. Hovering above the Angel, Adam moved a delicate hand to push the flowers aside, revealing the garden outside.

"Adam, why did you do that? It could be somebody dangerous outside!" Lucifer protested.

Squinting his eyes, Adam peeked out into the garden nervously. "It's only E-"

"The female Omega," the grumbling Angel interrupted. "I could smell her from here. It’s gross."

Blinking in curiosity, Adam cocked his head and glanced down at Lucifer. "Her name is Eve, and she smells bad?"

"Eve," Lucifer repeated with a scoff. "She smells like sour grapes. I hate grapes."

"Oh..." Adam licked his lips. He didn't know Lucifer disliked grapes. Adam made a mental note to avoid them in the future. "Well, she's outside. She must want to speak to us again."

"Why is she standing so far away?" Lucifer wondered suspiciously. His sharp eyes narrowed into slits.

With a grin, Adam kicked himself up and burst out of their nest. "She's respecting our boundaries! I told her she was too close last time!"

"Adam," Lucifer grunted, quickly following his Omega. "Wait, don’t get too close to her."

Eve waved as she noticed both of them. Her eyes sparkled with a star-like gleam as she saw Lucifer following Adam.

"Eve." Adam went to approach the other Omega, but Lucifer pulled him back. "What are you doing back here again?"

"I thought I told you not to come into our domain anymore," Lucifer huffed, settling himself next to Adam. The two immediately intertwined their hands, seeking comfort in each other. Eve's gaze dropped to their joined hands, eyes wide with wonder.

"I wanted to talk to you." Eve said. "You said I was too close to your nest last time."

"You're much too close to our nest and you throw rocks at us."

"How am I suppose to catch your attention when I want to talk to you?" Eve asked. "I'm not allowed to come close your nest. I thought this distance would do, does it not?"

Lucifer's lips twisted into a familiar sneer, ready to deliver the same cold reply, but Adam's hand tightened around his. Adam's glance, eyebrows raised in a silent plea of agreement, only deepened the Angel's scowl. Now Eve, the new intruder, had Adam's support. How exasperating. She might be another soul Lucifer would need to banish, just as he had with Lilith.

"If I stay ten feet away from your lair, will that suffice?" Eve's innocent smile only stoked Lucifer's irritation further.

"Yes—" Adam started eagerly.

"No," Lucifer growled, his tone dark and brooding. He practically sulked under the weight of Adam's imploring look that silently urged, 'please, be kind.' With a deep, reluctant sigh, Lucifer's shoulders slumped, and he shot Eve another withering glare. "Twenty feet."

"Alright, I can manage that!" she replied, her voice bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere.

"Also," Lucifer began, snatching the stone from Adam's other hand and holding it aloft. "Don't ever throw rocks at our nest again."

Eve caught the stone as he tossed it back, her hands clapping together around it. "Alright, sorry. I just didn't know how else to get your attention."

"Yeah, well, a simple 'hey!' would do," Lucifer muttered dryly.

Eve cocked her head, her amber eyes widening. "From over twenty feet away?"

"Then yell!" the angel snapped before settling himself once more as Adam squeezed his hand again. "What do you want? Why did you come out to us?"

A warm breeze whispered through the garden, tugging at the flowers, leaves, and grass. Eve's long red curls were caught in the wind, fluttering like a crimson banner. Her Omega scent mingled with the breeze, and Lucifer fought the urge to cover his nose. She smelled too much like Lilith. The strong Alpha scent intertwined with Eve's proved the two spent a lot of time together.

"It's about what Adam said last time," Eve spoke, and Lucifer soured at the realisation she knew his mate's name. "You spoke about...being free...and that made me...think."

Adam blinked in awe. "I made you think?"

"Hm." Eve nodded and lowered her head, her amber eyes falling to her hands as she bashfully twirled her fingers together. "You said...we're all free, nobody can own another. That we can't force somebody to be your mate."

Adam was such a sweetheart. Lucifer's love for him deepened even more as Adam gasped, his expression instantly morphing into one of worry.

"Yes, I remember. Are you alright?" he asked, concerned about lacing his voice. Adam's eyebrows furrowed as he instinctively scanned Eve's body for any sign of injury, bruise, or even a scrape. But there was nothing, save for countless freckles dotting her skin. "Is there something you want to ask?"

Eve seemed to flip a switch. She transformed from a sweet, shy, and slightly nervous Omega into an entirely different person. She straightened her short stature, her back rigid, and her hands dropped to her sides.

"What did you mean by free? How can we be free? What does it mean? Are we not free? What does it even mean to be free? Would it make a difference?" Eve's questions spilled out rapidly, one after the other. Both Lucifer and Adam stared at her, bewildered, as she rattled off a dozen more questions within minutes. Some of her queries didn’t even make sense, and soon Eve was simply babbling about freedom.

Lucifer glanced at his mate from the corner of his eye, ensuring Adam was still comfortable. His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of Adam's hand.

"To be free is... freedom," Lucifer said quietly, meeting Eve's eyes. "It's being able to do what you want, without being told what to do. To make your own decisions and choices, to do things for yourself, and not be..."

"Restricted?" Eve interjected.

Lucifer shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. In a way. Not having freedom means being restricted and bound by rules. Being told what to do. Being told when to stand, when to sit, when to eat, when to drink, when to sleep, shit, and piss. Being ordered to follow rules and restrictions, always feeling like there is more out there…"

"That's what Lilith said," Eve breathed out softly, her voice laced with awe. Her warm caramel eyes bored into Lucifer's. "Lilith always says that there's more beyond Eden. She believes we should crave more than just this paradise, that we deserve to live freely without the Angels constantly watching over us."

Adam averted his gaze, memories of Lilith's fervent speeches flooding back. She never welcomed his responses, always demanding his silence, expecting him to just listen. Even when he yearned to understand, her anger and moodiness silenced him. She saw him as nothing more than a verbal punching bag.

Adam hoped Lilith wasn't treating Eve the same way, but Eve was different, more vocal. Lucifer squeezed Adam's hand, sharing the same concern. He remembered the effort it took to coax words back out of Adam, to heal the mental wounds Lilith had inflicted.

"Lilith has always been headstrong," Lucifer spoke sternly. "It'll lead to trouble if she's not careful."

Eve's freckled face concealed a darker judgement as she stared at Lucifer. "I think Lilith is right. There's more out there. Why do the Angels discourage our questions? Are they hiding something? It doesn't add up."

"Then that's a conversation for the Angels," Lucifer bristled. "We don't want to be dragged into your issues."

Eve shook her head, crossing her arms tightly. "But you're already involved. Adam is free, isn't he? He doesn't have to follow the Angels' rules."

Lucifer inhaled deeply, meeting Adam's eyes. His sweet, loving mate smiled at him, reminding Lucifer of why he defied the heavens in the first place. He did it for freedom, so they could be together, unbound.

Lucifer had defied Michael for Adam.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning back to Eve. "You and Adam aren't the same. Adam is my mate, and I will do anything for him. So tell me, what do you want? You've been pestering us for a reason."

Eve's smile was almost gleeful. "I want what Adam has. I want freedom."

"What?" Adam frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "I-I don't think we can give you freedom. It's something you have to find on your own."

"You can," Eve insisted, stepping closer. "You said the apple changed things for you. It can do the same for me and Lilith. We deserve to be free and awakened too."

Lucifer's wings unfurled threateningly. He had suspected this all along. Eve's intentions were never about self-discovery; she wanted what Adam had. But Lucifer wouldn't jeopardize his precious bond for her or Lilith.

"Leave," he hissed. "You have no idea what you're asking."

"Why should you be free but not us?" Eve pressed, advancing. "I'm not asking for much. Just the apple. Give us the apple."

Adam's apple-green eyes widened in shock, his hair standing on end. Eve's voice had shifted, becoming cold and sharp, echoing Lilith's harsh tone. He shuddered, stepping back as his stomach churned.

Sensing Adam's fear, Lucifer shielded him with his wings, glaring at Eve. The eye on his chest glowed brightly as all six wings spread wide, adorned with small, watchful eyes. His halo shimmered brilliantly above his head.

"Eve, this is your final warning. Leave and don't return," he commanded, his voice echoing in an almost inhuman manner.

Eve's frown deepened. "Why won't you give me the apple? Why won't you share freedom with me and Lilith?"

"You're not ready for the apple of knowledge," Lucifer snapped. "Neither of you are. God will provide when the time is right, but now is not that time."

"Why are we not ready but Adam is? What makes him different?" Eve demanded, her calm facade betrayed by her darkened eyes. "We deserve to know the truth too."

Lucifer raised his hand, fingers splayed wide, his angelic power crackling around him like a living thing. Little balls of flame snapped and popped against his skin, and his eyes darkened almost to black as golden light flared around him, radiant as the sun.

"Lucifer!" Adam gasped, clutching his arm as the golden magic built into a furious storm in his palm. "Stop! You're going to hurt her!"

The Archangel of dreams, hopes, and creation seemed lost in a trance, his eyes unfocused and distant. The eyes imprinted on his wings burned brighter, nearly scorching through the feathers. The golden fire in his palm coiled around his fingers and wrist, crawling up his arm like a serpent. Adam winced as it bit at his fingertips, but he held on tighter.

"Eve! Please leave!" he yelled, the golden fire growing blindingly bright, forcing Adam to squint. "Run, Eve, run away!"

Eve spun around and fled, her red hair whipping behind her. Soon, she vanished from Adam's sight, consumed by the overwhelming light.

Adam twisted on his toes, pushing himself against Lucifer's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his mate. "Luci," he called tenderly, "Luci, it's okay. She's gone now. Please calm down. Everything's okay."

The golden light continued to crackle around them. Lucifer's eyes, usually a serene blue, were now a tumultuous gold, staring at nothing. Adam reached up with a trembling hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on Lucifer's cheek.

"Lucifer, it's alright. Please calm down," Adam whispered, stretching up onto his tiptoes to press his lips to Lucifer's. "I'm not hurt. Eve doesn't have the apple. It's still safe in our nest. We're safe."

Adam kissed his mate once more, feeling the divine power that marked Lucifer as one of the most powerful Archangels. Adam loved him deeply, adored every part of him.

"Okay?" he whispered, pulling back to watch as Lucifer's eyes regained their familiar blue sparkle. Relief washed over Adam as he saw Lucifer returning to himself. His stiff wings began to sag, and he slumped against Adam, trembling.

"I'm so sorry, Adam. I'm sorry," he whimpered, tears spilling from his eyes. "I just want you to be safe. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Caressing the back of Lucifer's head, Adam ran his fingers through the golden curls. "Nothing will happen to me. We're both fine."

"She can't have the apple, Adam. Neither of them can," Lucifer said, hugging him tighter. "It's not the same. They're not the same. It's different. We won't be forgiven by Heaven if we give them the apple. We won't be allowed to just be together if we defy those rules. It's dangerous for us."

Adam pressed soft kisses along Lucifer's shoulder and neck. "Then we won't give Eve or Lilith the Apple of Knowledge."

To ensure their future. Their happiness.

[lokisasylum]

First Impressions on 'MUSE'

TRACK 01 - Intro: Rebirth

"A beautiful (sexy) angel singing gospels to me, I am in Heaven--"

TRACK 02 - Interlude: SHOWTIME

"I can twerk to that"

TRACK 03 - Smeraldo Garden Marching Band

"EEEEEyyyYYYYyy, BAND TIME WITH THE HOMIES THROUGH A BRAINFREEZE WITH A PSYCHEDELIC TRIP"

TRACK 04 - Slow Dance (feat. Sofía Carson)

"Goddamn it I feel so single..."

TRACK 05 - Be Mine

"Eso se puede perrear"

TRACK 06 - Who

"That TV catching fire on the grocery cart? Yeah, that's me right now"

TRACK 07 - Closer Than This

🌙💓💞🌸🌺🪷🪻🥀💐🌷♫NEVER LET YOU GOOOoooooOOOOOooooooOOOOOoooo

[kaisazen]

𝄡 — ❝ Behind Curtains ❞ — Scaramouche x Fem!Reader

❝ And I thought I'd be a body without a heart forever, but then you come around bringing me back home, once again. ❞

SYNOPSIS. after a tragic accident that lead you into a seven-year coma, the memories of your significant other were left and buried by your past. this all changes when a specific man enters your café with a melancholic feeling that reeled you into the things he wanted you to remember once again, even if he can't bring back the way things used to be.

STATUS. updates during sundays or every other week

GENRE. celebrity!scara x amnesiac!fem!reader, idol/celebrity au, coffee shop au, actor au, genshin smau (mostly written), amnesia au, modern world, slow-burn, slight angst

TAGLIST. open! 1. comment on this post to be included, 2. pls update me if you changed your username, 3. if the user is in bold then that means I can't tag you,

𝄡 — THE GANG 𖦆 ֺ . ა !

.*๑ COLLEGE BROKEES & ෴6BREEZE!

ACT I - YOU'RE A CATCH 22

01: karma's my muse

02: never trust handsome men

03: the olive theory

04: you're on your own, balladeer

05: i think I've seen this film before

06: the man who can't be moved

07: i am not your mirrorball...

ACT II - KARMA IS MY BOYFRIEND

08: i'm still standing, look at me now mom!

09: snooze the controversies

10: russian roulette

11: wanna meddle about?

12: oh the runaway damsel!

13: a wild scaramouche has appeared

14: i'm seeing angel numbers, babe

ACT III - HIS INITIALS WORN 'ROUND MY NECK

ACT IV - LIKE BONNY AND CLYDE

PLAYLIST.

[romirola]

Snippet Saturday

Tagged by @autisticempathydaemon, @zozo-01, @gingerbreadmonsters, and (I think?) @ejunkiet earlier this week to share a W.I.P!  Thanks, friends! It’s been s-l-o-w going this week, but I’m trying to chug-a-lug on this power swap fic. To make up for how long it’ll be before this fic gets posted on AO3, I’m sharing a longer-than-usual snippet. (I shared another snippet a few weeks ago, which you can find here!) This is an excerpt from a scene featuring Sweetheart, Cutie, and some musings about magical powers manifesting and how that can (and cannot) shape identity.

Tagging @angel-bubbles, @jollyfang, @cashandprizes, @thee-morrigan, @frenchiefitzhere, @sealriously-sealrious, @floofdeloop, and anyone else who would like to share whatever they are working on! 

Sweetheart shoved the jacket into their messenger bag. “Alright then,” they gruffly answered, staring at the floor, focusing on the subtle design on the dingy tile to prevent Cutie from being able to penetrate any thoughts beyond that surface level. It wasn’t that Sweetheart always minded when Cutie popped into their head. For one thing, when they were at work, protocol demanded of Sweetheart that they consent to telepathic oversight. For another, Sweetheart knew Cutie well enough to know that sometimes, they struggled to reign in their magical expertise. That happened easily, especially when a telepath had such thorough command over their telepathic powers. Sweetheart didn’t even mind when Cutie occasionally entered their head when they were spending time together because they knew how inherent that was to a telepath’s way of life. If anything, Sweetheart knew what a measure of trust and friendship it was for Cutie to let their telepathy occur, sometimes subconsciously, when they were spending time together. “No jacket today.” 

“Let’s head out of here,” Cutie announced, linking arms with Sweetheart and pulling them towards the door. 

“Mhmm,” Sweetheart agreed, muscles tightening as they weaved through the hallways and staircases. 

Sweetheart’s frustration wasn’t directed at Cutie at all, but they were certainly growing frustrated. Try as they might to quell those feelings, Sweetheart felt their lip curl into a snarl. It wasn’t that they resented Cutie using their powers at all. No. Sweetheart’s resentment was purely directed at themselves. They were a master at cloaking, their own feelings included, but even a Fully Certified stealth couldn’t keep those emotions hidden forever. It embarrassed Sweetheart to admit that they still hadn’t found a way to overcome the complex, confusion, guilt-inducing, altogether overwhelming emotions that took up residence in their heart ever since their powers had manifested. 

Sweetheart’s parents were both freelancers, meaning that when they were a child, Sweetheart had no idea as to what their powers would be. Throughout their childhood, Sweetheart had happily imagined all the different specialties that they might be. Some days, they’d aspire to be a fire-elemental, dreaming of bending even the most roaring of fires to their will. Other times, they saw themselves as a sonal-energetic, weaving together sound waves with ease. Sweetheart even grew excited over the prospect of discovering that, like their parents, they were going to be predisposed to having command over all that the spectrum of magic had to offer. 

So when the day finally came, when their powers finally arrived, Sweetheart was immensely disappointed to realize that their specialty was the one that made it easier for them to disappear. To fade away. To be unnoticed. To be forgotten. To be invisible.

The thought turned their stomach. 

It was no secret that Sweetheart was (and continued to be) an outgoing person. They were friendly, social, and, if they were being frank, a bit of a loud-mouthed attention-seeker. As a teenager, Sweetheart couldn’t help but feel like fate had dealt them a bad hand when they realized that out of every possible magical specialty, they had been bestowed with the type powers that hide them away from the spotlight they craved. 

It was never that Sweetheart thought stealths were inherently inferior or incapable of anything compared to other magical specialties. It was just that Sweetheart hadn't expected that specialty to be theirs. 

Usually, the day a child’s powers arrive is a time of celebration and excitement. Sweetheart spent the night crying as they sat on their parent’s bed, flickering from invisible to visible indiscriminately while repeating through sobs, “Why? Why is my magic just a bunch of ways to pretend I don’t exist?”   

Sweetheart’s parents tried to soothe Sweetheart’s anxiety with optimistic words and strong hugs, but the distraught teen was not convinced.  

Still, as Sweetheart grew, they worked diligently to hone their skills, figuring if they had to be cursed with ‘stealthitude,’ as their uncle jokingly called it, they might as well learn how to wield their stealthiness well. And learn they did. Sweetheart studied hard to hone their skills, eventually developing the ambition to become a Department investigator, despite the fact (or, looking back, maybe <em>because</em>of the fact) that it was practically unheard of for a stealth to suit the role. 

That goal led them to pursue a Full Certification Degree at D.A.M.N., which meant that they ended up learning magical skills across the spectrum of empowerment. By the time they finished their degree, Sweetheart had not only become one of the strongest stealths the Academy had ever seen, but they also performed incredibly at the variety of other magical types. 

Sometimes, they couldn't help but wonder, was Sweetheart's interest in other types of magic serve as a bonus to their stealth prowess, or compensation for it? 

[the-solar-panel]

Angel leaned in to verify Jign Yuan being talented with his tonque.

Look out, Angel, he's closing the gap to flick the tip of that tongue against his lips before trying to press between them—

[idkfitememate]

This is for you @hyperfixat , said I would a while ago and finally decided to-

Here’s that fic of (one of) my Obey Me OC, the way it looks is wildly different from from my now fics-

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

Fated Meetings

Seraphiel (OC) x Barbatos

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:

"Zankoku Na Tenshi No Thesis-Salomé Anjarí"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 04:01

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

---˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹---

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

The Demon of Time. A being to be feared. Able to see both past in future at once, to jump across timelines and alter events to suit his current masters needs. Well know across all three realms, he was truly a monster amongst men. What most didn’t know, however, was that this demon of time had a counterpart. His exact opposite.

The Angel of Space. Able to jump dimensions and warp reality to his Fathers choosing. A Seraphim.

Much like The King of Demons and The Father, they were seen as opposing forces, but in truth, their creation was one of the first ever attempts at a peaceful negotiation between the realms of Angels and Demons. By separating the two powers — Father parting from his infinite time and the Kind relinquishing his infinite space — both had equaled the playing fields a bit, creating an illusion of true equality.

Both right hands to their respective lords, the two never saw each other after their creation and following gifting. Though, unbeknownst to their creators, they kept in touch via letters.

Millennia of simple letters past and they were finally allowed a meet by their lords commands. This was when tensions between the Celestial Realm and the Devildom were at their “Lowest”. They met in the human realm, the middle point, and would have a couple hundred years to talk. To the angel, this seemed far to little, but to the Demon, it seemed far to long. A testament to their differences.

˖⁺.꒦꒷꒦꒷⛧꒷꒦꒷꒦˖⁺. ˖⁺.꒦꒷꒦꒷⛧꒷꒦꒷꒦˖⁺. ˖⁺.꒦꒷꒦꒷⛧꒷꒦꒷꒦˖⁺.

A forest was chosen for their stay, glowing dimly with fireflies and luminescent flowers. The moon had risen into the sky on that cool summers night. The tress flowed gracefully in the small breeze that had fallen onto this beautiful forest. In the center there was a wide circular clearing with a gorgeously huge oak tree, its branches weighed down with age. Moose and deer dappled the landscape, munching lazily on grasses and beautiful purple and green flowers.

The demon, who went by the name “Barbatos”, finally arrived to the clearing, having warped straight from the castle of his lord. Brushing off his suit, he reached for the pocket watch in his breast pocket, checking the time to ensure he wasn’t late. Not that something like that had ever happened before, but it was a habit he had developed from watching his King over the years. Wandering around the clearing for a few minutes, running his fingers through the tall grass, he finally stopped and cleared his throat.

“I know you’re here,” he mused, “So please do make yourself known. We could easily get introductions out of the way seeing as we know each oth-“ He was cut off by giggling coming from the large oak. Looking up he was met with lavender eyes staring into his teal ones as well as wide smile, shrouded by shadows. The giggling only grew stronger.

Sighing, turned to face the being covered in shadow and opened his arms, just in time to catch the much larger angel that had just jumped from the branches of the tree, right into his arms.

Unlike Barbatos, who was in his demon form with skeletal wing like horns folded behind his head and duel-headed tail flicking through the grass while the tails of his black and teal suit fluttered in the breeze, the angel was in his simpler human disguise; no wings and eyes of burning fire in sight. Shirtless, he had on large oversized pants, akin to traditional hakama, bellbottoms, or a mix of the two. A sash wrapped around his waist in an almost loincloth fashion. With long mid bicep length artist like gloves covering his arms, the entire ensemble was brought together by the long veil that wrapped around his head and trailed long after his body, white fading to black on the outside and a ‘galaxy’ on the inside with accents of gold, greens, and blues.

“Hiii Barbatosss~” The angel lovingly spoke. His soft yet melodic voice reminded the demon just what kind of angel in his arms was. A Seraphim. An angel of immense power and strength that could rival his own. And here he was, wrapped in Barbatos’s arms like a child. The tealette huffed before smiling, setting the angel down in the grass and forcing him on his knees, leaning up on his tip-toes — and forcing the angel to lean down with gloves hands on his cheeks — to kiss the taller male on his forehead, right where his skin met the silk of the veil. “Hello Seraphiel.”

The angel, now known as Seraphiel, leaned down — nearly folding himself in half despite being on his knees due to the dramatic height difference between the two — and began smothering the much smaller demon in kisses, holding his demon’s delicate face between his much larger hands. The angel caressed the demon’s cheeks between his gloved fingers. Barbatos’s also gloved hand met the others, melting into his touch.

“Oh how I’ve longed to see you my dearest Aeon!~ I was wishing the day we would finally be able to see each other would be closer, and closer it came! How wondrous, isn’t it darling?” Seraphiel’s speech was muffled by the many kisses he pressed all over Barbatos, light purple lipstick smearing the smallers face. Finally letting his guard down, Barbatos smiled at his lover of many years, letting out a small chuckle of his own.

“Yes my dearest Astrophel, it is wondrous indeed.”

︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

[savior-of-humanity]

(I'm curious to hear about your TTRPG characters 👀)

YESSSSS... HAHAHAH.... YESSSSSSSS

I'm gonna be putting this under a read-more because this might get long (and there's also pictures) but anyways!! (also pinging @hymns-across-the-stars and @cursedfortune since they also expressed interest for me yapping about my emotional punching bags)

SILAS W. RODRIGUES & CAILEAN EVANGELION UNIT-07

I've been fucking DYING to play an Adeptus Evangelion campaign ever since I found out it existed, and I'm still really happy that I found a game at all because the subreddit for AdEVA is dead (though you can find a link to an active-ish AdEVA discord server in there if you dig deep enough). ANYWAYS!!!

Silas isn't really a sopping wet poor little meow meow like some of my other muses (i.e Shinji) but he is definitely just as fucked up. Basic TL;DR of his backstory is that he lived w/ his extended family in Brazil as a baby, with his older brother Cailean largely being the one to raise him, while his parents were off doing shit related to the Katsuragi Expedition that would eventually lead to Second Impact. Given that Second Impact is a global apocalypse, obviously his country gets fucked over and a lot of his immediate family either dies or gets lost among the chaos of that and the immediately ensuing Impact Wars.

Fast forward about a decade, and his older brother goes off to work for NERV after managing to get some good higher education. All's well since Cailean's largely giving what he makes back to his family to help support them, until he suddenly and unexpectedly dies in some kind of accident. The reality is that Cailean actually signed up for a Contact Experiment w/ an EVA in exchange for a large bump in pay, which resulted in his soul becoming assimilated into the EVA. Silas, obviously, doesn't know this, and is incredibly distraught as he and Cailean had a very close sibling relationship.

Eventually Silas gets approached by NERV with the offer to become an EVA Pilot in exchange for training, housing, and payment - and seeing how lucrative the money is, Silas accepts.

For the actual campaign in particular, the basic plot premise is pretty simple; What if Shinji never got in the EVA when Zeruel attacked the Geofront?

A simple question like this, apparently, has some pretty significant answers. To put it simply; with no Unit-01 to stop it, Zeruel managed to reach Terminal Dogma, (presumably) fuse with Lilith, and basically become a god-like being through which it would initiate Third Impact. I'm not sure what the full effects of Third Impact upon the world are yet, but I'm assuming it resulted in a lot of global damage, on top of Zeruel now starting to spawn its own Angels (Zerulim) to target and destroy humanity.

A bunch of canon characters are dead as well; Asuka is presumed KIA (there's some stuff in the plot that implies she could be alive but We Don't Know Yet™), Rei II is dead (though another (adult) clone of her now acts as the Commander of what remains of NERV, now known as WILLE), as well as Mari, Toji, and a lot of other characters such as Gendo and Misato. Shinji's fate is unknown but he was offered as a playable character so I'm guessing he's alive, just not (currently) relevant to the plot.

Anyways. Silas.

He has some pretty complicated feelings about his fellow pilots, because he's personally watched two of them die in incredibly horrific and traumatizing ways. He's afraid of forming friendships and similar meaningful relationships with other people, because he's afraid of going through that feeling of loss; something that's heavily impacted him ever since Cailean "died". And yet paradoxically he won't hesitate to put himself in harm's way so that they don't have to suffer as much. I'm really hoping to flesh him out as a character as the campaign progresses since I've been thinking of implementing him and Cailean/his EVA as muses (though there's like. only one other person I know of on Tumblr that actually has Evangelion muses he could interact with 😭)

KHARIAS (also cw for mentions of child death)

So, Kharias is basically just my fursona that I adapted for a homebrew Lancer campaign hosted by a friend of mine. I don't remember the full details of the story because it's been a while since the campaign's on a hiatus atm but basically, she's a Wildkin (furry race) who had a very rough childhood.

She was raised by her father Perristona, who I believe was a former general of the Wildkin army. Perristona is Not A Good Person. Like. Not even in the emotionally complicated way that makes you even sorta sympathetic but in the way that makes you go "what the fuck, is this guy insane?" And for good reason!!

Because when Kharias and her brother were about 6 years old, he made them fight each other to the death. With axes. It was as horrific, violent, and traumatizing as you can imagine.

And then years later he made a clone army of her dead brother for the sake of basically helping some very misguided people cause a global apocalypse that may or may not involve firing the in-universe equivalent of a Halo ring.

Fun stuff! Basically she's a big shark lady who kicks ass and pilots a fucking badass magical mech. I might bring her around again for another campaign my friend is planning on doing, though I have some other more appealing character ideas since, to be honest, a lot of her backstory in the Lancer campaign was actually cooked up by the GM, so I'm not really sure how to apply her without just going through the same backstory stuff.

[ethyella]

conexões

disclaimer : fora as conexões que já tem o gênero pré-definido descritos, as demais podem ser preenchidas por qualquer um. algumas tem predefinições específicas, como idade, mas caso pense que seu personagem se encaixa, tudo bem, podemos alterar, basta conversar. aqui nessa tag ainda tem algumas ideias que eu tive preguiça de transcrever, caso se interesse em dar uma olhada.

01 — sienna e muse b são aqueles amigues que topam todas as maluquices que eva inventa, nçao importa o que seja. ela consegue ser bem convincente quando quer e é quase impossível para que esses dois neguem alguma coisinha para o rostinho angelical da menina. ( @siennazhou & )

02 — quando eva precisa de ajuda, ela sabe que pode contar com muse sempre. é aquela pessoa que está disposta a tudo e mais um pouco, seja por diversão ou porque realmente gosta da filha de zéfiro. mesmo que as vezes, essa relação fique confusa em seus caminhos porque eva some sem dar muitas explicações. ( @jamesherr )​

03 — eva é uma pessoa muito amável, é difícil discordar disso, mas seu maior problema é conhecer a palavra limite e isso é terrível para muse. ela é a pessoa que sempre tenta lhe despertar o pior, por achar elu muito sério e fechado, então sempre tenta o tirar da linha e o fazer relaxar mais. as vezes ele considera ouvir as palavras de evangeline, isso até o juízo se fazer presente de novo. ( open )

04 — por ter sido criada de um modo um mais tradicional, fora um longo caminho até chegar quem é hoje. foi graças a muse que eva pode dizer que hoje é alguém melhor, se puder dizer assim. é seu confidente, confia nele de olhos fechados e arriscaria até mesmo colocar a mão no fogo. @nyctophiliesblog

05 — evie e muse não conseguem se entender, por mais que tentem, mas não existe bem um motivo para. estarem juntos é razão suficiente para trocar farpas e até mesmo xingamentos. ( open )

06 — quando evie estava prestes a sair e senhor d. ordenou que todos voltassem para o acampamento, fora com muse que ela discutiu meses atrás, após eva lhe comunicar a decisão de largar tudo para viver uma vida normal, aconselhando que ela pensasse um pouco antes de fazer uma mudança tão drástica, algo que ela não considerou e acabou que pararam de se falar desde então. a amizade ficou estremecida e depois de tudo, parece estranho reatar uma amizade que largou de mão. @sonofthelightning

07 — alguns verões passados, muse e evie começaram a se envolver longe dos olhares curiosos dos demais campistas, acompanhados de encontros após o toque de recolher e olhares sugestivos quando cruzavam pelo acampamento. ninguém nunca soube explicar o que aconteceu entre eles, mas alguns meses depois, havia algo diferente entre eles. ( open )

08 — muse e evangeline guardam apenas boas lembranças do relacionamento que tiveram, não nutrem nenhum outro tipo de sentimento um pelo outro, até perceberam que funcionavam com bons amigos... mas as vezes as pessoas acabam se entendendo, né?! ( @kretina )

[villainmade]

SONGS THAT I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSES

list 10 songs that you associate with your muse(s)

01. prom queen molly kate kestner 02. teacher's pet melanie martinez 03. daddy issues the neighbourhood 04. oh no! marina 05. sippy cup melanie martinez 06. princesses don't cry carys 07. i did something bad taylor swift 08. how to be a heartbreaker marina 09. breakfast dove cameron 10. seventeen marina

01. tag, you're it melanie martinez 02. boyfriend dove cameron 03. anti-hero taylor swift 04. recovering people pleaser carys 05. dream girl evil florence + the machine 06. w.i.t.c.h. devon cole 07. i'm too pretty for this claire rosinkranz 08. purity lilyisthatyou 09. good girl anna akana, macedo 10. snow angels gayle

01. brutal olivia rodrigo 02. r.i.p. 2 my youth the neighbourhood 03. pacify her melanie martinez 04. chandelier sia 05. mad at disney salem ilese 06. good girl era (side a) upsahl 07. what it means to be a girl emeline 08. sexy naughty bitchy tata young 09. bubblegum bitch marina 10. oh no! marina

01. where is my mind? yoav 02. raise the dead rachel rabin 03. starring role marina 04. landscape florence + the machine 05. hearing damage thom yorke 06. under control ellie goulding 07. silhouettes of monsters and men 08. primadonna marina 09. help i'm alive metric 10. wonderland natalia kills

TAGGED BY @historiavn ( thank you! <3 )

TAGGING @terrorsmade , @immobiliter, and anyone else who wants to do it <3