#Dark Signs my beloved being first to be mentioned :))))))

[evanpetersmybf]

Be mine?

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Meeting you was his destiny. He had to make you his so he could feel alive... It was meant to be.

Genre: Smut.

Word count: 3,172

Warnings: Virgin and inexperienced reader, mentions of bullying, self-harm (just once and is nothing detailed), obsessive and stalkish behavior, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v and cumshot.

A/N: English isn't my first language and this is my first time writing smut, so sorry if it sucks or if I have grammatical mistakes or something TT. Btw, also sorry if Tate's out of character. Anyways, hope you enjoy it!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate had another bad day. It was the usual. Bullying, failed tests, the teacher humiliating him after he couldn’t solve a simple equation on the chalkboard, his mother scolding him. Nothing seemed new, and it seemed that nothing wasn’t going to change at any point.

He needed something, a reason to live, something to make him feel alive. Because he was dead. Dead in life, which in his own opinion, was even worse than being a rotten corpse.

He headed to the music store after secretly stealing some of his mom’s money, just a few bucks; the enough amount to buy a vinyl or some CD’s. Tate was sort of a music elitist, always believing that the artists nowadays just created pure, hollow, and trashy songs. In fact, he didn’t believe those could even be considered music.

Walking around the nearly empty store, rummaging through the shelves filled with Nirvana vinyl’s, someone bumped into him.

“Oh, sorry.” You spoke, after accidentally taking too many steps back and bumping into Tate’s behinds.

He frowned, somewhat annoyed at you for disturbing his moment of peace. The blonde turned around to look at who it was, scanning your body from head to toe, taking note of your appearance. Then, his dark eyes drifted to the sign that was on top the shelf, which indicated the musical genre of the records that were on that rack. Alternative pop. His gaze went to the album you were hugging to yourself.

“Cry Baby? What type of crap is that?”

“Huh, excuse me?”

“Never mind, you won’t understand.” Tate talked in such a volatile and rude manner, already feeling superior because of his likes.

You arched an eyebrow. What was his problem? You did nothing to him and yet he was here, judging your amazing music taste.

“Well, people’s free to like whatever they want to, hmm?”

“Uh, yeah, but what’s the point of that if everything is so generic?”

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez at least once?”

He shook his head no, still scowling, now fidgeting with a ring that was on one of his fingers.

“Have you listened to Nirvana?”

“Just like… Two songs?”

“Don’t tell me. Smells Like Teen Spirit?”

“Guilty.”

Tate rolled his eyes. What was going on with this generation? What happened to good music, to the greatest artists? Why was everyone just listening to trash?

After sharing your names and a few more words, debating about who was right and who wasn’t, you placed one of your hands over his right shoulder, as an attempt to stop his rant of how superior he was. And indeed, it worked. The teen stopped venting and stared at you, all confused and a bit uncomfortable. You noticed it and quickly stepped back, apologizing for touching him without permission. He told you it was okay, that you just surprised him. But deep down, that simple yet complex touch meant a lot to Tate, even if it was absolutely nothing to you.

For the first time he felt something more than sorrow.

“So… What do you think of this? I’ll make you listen to some songs by Melanie and other artists, and I’ll listen to your beloved beautiful grunge music.” You said those last words in a mocking way.

Tate huffed, clearly offended by the way you referred to his taste. Nevertheless, in the end he agreed with you.

After paying the stuff you two picked, both of you went to Tate’s place. As you walked next to him, your fingers brushed his, making his cheeks turn a light shade of red and his heart flutter. He felt dizzy, not sure about what was going on.

In his house, he took you to his room. The boy didn’t want his mother to see you, otherwise she’d be too nosy and probably scare you and push you away from him, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“Get comfy.” He mused, extending his hand as if inviting you to take a seat wherever you feel to.

“Thanks.” You sat on the floor, using one of the sides of the bed as a support for your back. He did the same and sat right next to you.

He was nervous. So damn nervous and excited. He brought a pretty chick to his place. The Tate Langdon, the outcast, the bullied, that Tate Langdon was in the same room with a girl? He couldn’t believe it.

“Ladies first.” Tate pointed the record-player with his thumb, and you obeyed, placing the CD in it. The music started playing.

“We could’ve used Spotify, y’know?”

“Nah, I don’t like it. I prefer the old school.”

‘Cry Baby’ was the first track that was listened to.

He squinted his eyes and rubbed his chin, analyzing the sounds, the melody, the harmony and of course the lyrics.

Although it wasn’t his style, you definitely were. The way you looked, talked, walked. How you stood up for your beliefs and didn’t allow him to step on you (even if you just discussed about music). It was new for him. He craved your independence. He craved you.

That was the very moment when he realized that you were the thing he was looking for all his life. You were the one who was meant to be his, he was meant to be yours. It was destiny. Tate truly believed it was some kind of divine prophecy, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

He was so immersed in his mind that he didn’t pay attention to the song anymore. He was solely focused on you, remembering how warm and kind your touch was, how sweet your voice was. ‘Oh, she’s mine’, he thought.

“So… That was the first track. Its name’s Cry Baby. Did you like it?”

Tate snapped out of it and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t listen to your question.

“I’m sorry, what did you?—”

“Did you like the song?”

“Ah, yeah yeah. It’s quite… Innovative. I’ve never heard something like that.”

You smiled and clapped your hands. “Of course! She’s such a genius. Let’s finish the album, hm?”

He just nodded, as a little smirk appeared on his face.

The days flew by, and Tate asked you out on many friendly dates. Or at least that’s what you thought because you were so oblivious at the fact that he had a fat crush on you.

With every hang out, you noticed that Tate was lonely. Like, really lonely. Maybe that’s why he was so clingy with you.

He told you about his family, about how annoying Constance was, about his siblings and about how his father left him behind. He also mentioned the bullying he suffered and almost talked about the self-harm but stopped himself.

Both of you grew closer, as his obsession.

Since you went to a different school, he would skip class and infiltrate your campus just to see you. He couldn’t stand being away from you. And if he did, his mind was full of you, thinking of you all day, unable to focus on his homework and tests. Tate didn’t care anymore if he failed subjects, as long as you were next to him, he was happy and alive.

The void he once felt, was now fulfilled with your mere presence. You could step on him, and he would thank you. In his twisted little mind, you were free to have everything of him.

He was willing to do anything to keep you by his side. The thought of losing was so terrifying that it would make him throw up.

Tate learned every single detail about you. Your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes, your dreams, and your fears. Everything. And that includes your schedule since you wake up, and since you go to sleep.

That was his definition of love. No one ever taught him about how to express it, and he ended up being the way he was with you.

One day he invited you over to his place. The Langdon's house was empty, and he was going to take advantage of it. No doubt.

“Your mom isn’t home?” You questioned as you followed him behind, going upstairs straight to his bedroom. Little did you know this wasn’t going to be another afternoon of playing board games while listening to some music.

“Nah, dunno where she went but she won’t be back any time soon.” He shrugged and let you inside of his private space,

You went to lay down on bed, feeling relief in your aching back after a long day at school. “Damn, I need some rest!”

Tate chuckled softly and sat on the edge, looking at you as you closed your eyes and tried to relax. He was focused on your steady and calm breathing, on how your breasts went up and down with every inhalation and exhalation. His eyes stared at your lips, at how kissable they looked. He felt a sudden desire, the intense urge to make you his. Feeling conflicted, he shook his head and tried to distract himself, pretending to ignore how aroused he was getting.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but of course he already had some wet dreams of you. He imagined you beneath him, your precious body shivering and responding to his touch, to his kisses. Your cunt wet and ready for him, just how he wanted to.

“Y/N…” Tate cooed, unable to hold back any longer.

“Yeah?” You opened one of your eyes and spotted him, sitting on the bed with his fists clenched over his thighs, while his breathing looked kinda rapid. “You ‘kay?”

“No.”

“Uh? What’s wrong?” You reincorporated and sat straight beside his warm figure. Your right hand touched his left, rubbing it up and down with your thumb.

Tate shoved you to the bed, pinning your arms above your head and holding them tight.

His breathing pattern was no longer normal. It was a heavy one.

His dark brown eyes locked with yours. Your orbs were wide, not understanding what the hell was going on. Or maybe you did but were in denial.

“Please. I want you.” He purred, seeing you with puppy eyes, the ones he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Hahah, you funny.”

He let out a frustrated whine, almost begging on his knees for you to get the hint.

“I’m not kidding. Pretty please. I need you.”

“Do you mean…?” You raised your head a few centimeters to look at his crotch in order to confirm your suspicions. Your cheeks had a cute blush as soon as you noticed Tate’s erection restrained by his jeans. It looked painful, and it actually was.

“Yes. I want to. Please, I truly need it. Please, please, please?” His voice was shaky and low, a needy desperate whisper. “Can I?”

This wasn’t what you expected for today. You saw Tate as a best friend, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome… And that he already provoked butterflies in your stomach before.

Hesitantly, you gave a shy nod with your head, giving him consent to continue. “But Tate… I’ve never done this before, I dunno what to do, I—” You trailed off, being cut off mid-sentence when Tate placed his lips over yours. The kiss was slow and tender, not rough at all. Your bottom lip was between his, as he nibbled it with extreme care to not hurt you.

After some seconds, he pulled apart and led his hand towards the side of your face, brushing some hairs away. “Don’t ya worry, princess. Leave it all to me, hm? I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to.” With that being said, he leaned into your neck, pressing his mouth on your sensitive flesh. He left sweet kisses, making you hum as you melted under him.

His lips continued to tease your skin, leaving some little bites between every kiss, trailing down to your collarbone. Tate stopped there and helped you get rid of your blouse, tossing it aside and continued his journey, this time kissing your sternum while his right hand cupped one of your breasts, kneading it gently over the fabric of your bra. He pulled down the straps and took off the piece of lingerie, setting your tits free.

The cold air hit you and your nipples perked up, looking ravishing and making him desire you even more.

He introduced one of the hardened buds into his warm mouth, sucking it greedily and making lewd wet sounds as he did so. His left rubbed the other nipple in circles, taking it with his thumb and index, pulling it and pinching it.

“Hmph… Huh…” You let out soft whimpers, slightly arching your back meanwhile he abused your breasts.

Tate stopped after some minutes, letting go of your nipple and looking at you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side. He approached your ear and whispered, “You like this?”

“Yes…” You begged. Your voice was already ragged and shaky.

Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, rubbing them as a pathetic try to feel some relief. Tate realized it and spread your legs with one of his hands. He took his digits right to your clothed pussy, eagerly rubbing the spot where your clit was.

“Someone’s already wet? Cute.” He giggled and took off his striped sweater, throwing it away. He positioned himself between your limbs and pulled down your pants, mesmerized as he saw your damp panties. Tate continued rubbing your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your underwear, still fascinated at how humid you were.

This was the moment he had been waiting for the past weeks. He wasn’t going to need to jerk off to your photos anymore, because now he would be able to jerk off to your tits in person.

Tate removed the last barrier that was stopping him from touching your womanhood directly. He pulled them down to your ankles and you helped him to get rid of it by shaking your feet.

He got closer to your cunt and placed your legs over his shoulder, spreading your folds with two of his large digits, blowing some air at the sensitive meat. Finally, he started sucking on your swollen clitoris, enjoying the feeling of your dampness against his face.

“Mmh…” He moaned, still toying with the nub. You grabbed him by the hair, not thinking about what you were doing. You just let yourself go and pulled him closer to your pussy, wanting to feel more. Your body twitched, unconsciously bucking your hips against his mouth that was currently making slurping sounds.

His attention changed and was now on your slit, teasing just the entrance with his hot tongue, while his nose rubbed against your clit. He lapped your pretty cunt, savoring your juices as if they were a delicacy.

Looking at your adorable face contorting in pleasure, he introduced his ring finger into your wet, tight hole. It was a slow and kind movement because the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. He slipped it deeper, pumping it in and out with care, increasing speed after a few seconds once he saw you comfortable. “Tell me if it hurts…”

“Mhm… It feels nice. Huh…” Your melodic whimpers and moans were just too much for him. He could listen to you for the rest of his days and never get tired of you.

Without further ado, he introduced his middle finger, now finger-fucking you with two. Tate’s thumb was also working wonders on your lil’ bundle of nerves in circular motion.

She was clenching around Tate’s large fingers, that he curled inside of her, hitting the right spot to make you squirm and feel a new and foreign sensation in your lower belly.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait anymore.”

He undid his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers, quickly getting rid of them and letting them fall to the wooden floor.

You just stared in awe; it was the first time you saw one in real life.

Tate grabbed his hardened cock and stroked it a few times on top of you, finding amusing your silly reaction. The reddish tip was glistening with pre-cum, which he used as lube. He spat at your pussy and rubbed his slick saliva with two digits, before finally thrusting his dick.

He did it slowly, beginning with the head. Eventually, he pushed his entire length, hitting your cervix and stretching you out for the first time.

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Even if he was taking the lead, he was a whiny mess, vocal and loud.

He continued pounding into you, his gaze never leaving your face. Tate loved how you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and how your little mouth was letting out such nasty sounds.

The room was filled with slapping and wet sounds, created by his skin slapping against yours, his balls always hitting you with every stab. Again, he placed your legs on his wide shoulders to have a better angle and pump into you deeper than before.

His big veiny hands were roaming all over your body, specifically your breasts. Within minutes, he developed an addiction to them. Probably because of his mommy issues? He grabbed them roughly, tweaking both of your nipples as he fucked you mercilessly.

Tate lolled his head as he felt your hole gripping him tight. Very tight.

He increased the pace and moaned your name, begging you to squeeze him tighter.

“Oh, please, please, please!” The blonde kept whining. He left one of his hands taking care of your nipples, while the other went back to torture your clit. He stroked it in circles, and then up and down, applying the enough amount of pressure to make you beg for more.

“Tate, I feel like I’m—”

“It’s okay, let it go, mhm?”

You couldn’t hold yourself any longer and squirted all over him, coating his lower body with your warm fluids.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, gonna cum!” Tate pulled out from your cunt and pumped his cock with his hand finishing with a loud moan. His hot sticky white cum coated your breasts and abdomen, creating an incredible sight that he always imagined.

All spent, Tate threw himself next to you on the bed, pulling a blanket to cover both of you as he filled your pretty face in candy pecks.

“Did it hurt? First time usually does.” He looked at you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I was too rough?”

You laughed and shook your head no, caressing his messy locks with your fingers, tenderly scratching his scalp. “Don’t worry, I’m fine, really.”

Tate smiled at you and kissed you on the lips, “You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You hugged him from behind, him being the little spoon this time. Your mind was going wild; you were still processing what happened and was about to drift to sleep when he whispered.

“Y/N…?”

“Mh, what is it, Tate?”

“I love you… Please be mine?”

[celest1all]

PARTNERS // NICK AMARO X FEM!READER

warnings: swearing, mentions to sex/allusions to sex, allusions to violence, plot with little porn :c

authors note: this is going to be a 2 parter probs as this ended up being lengthy as fuck, got a bit carried away LOL. NICK MY BELOVED COME TO ME PLS GOD

You and Nick had been partners for going on almost two years now, having each others back no matter what. If someone were to happen to one of you, the other would be there to help regardless of the situation. He wasn't your first partner, but he certainly was your favourite.

That was until one particular case. It had been a shit one, no leads, no evidence, nothing. Nada. You were doing everything in your power to get the case moving, knocking on doors, canvassing, interviews, you name it. Amaro had seen that you were exhausted beyond comprehension, though, he knew you had a tendency to not sleep and focus solely on the case, ensuring the victims get justice and the person responsible gets convicted. That's why he double checked with Cragen and sent you home, offering to cover for you and inform you with any changes in the case.

Unfortunately, the perp you were hunting had turned the tables -- hunting you instead. You were in his crosshairs. The darkness of your apartment hid his form, enough for you to get into bed without a care in the world, sleep the only thing on your mind.

He waited, and he waited, making sure you were sound asleep before creating enough noise to stir you awake. He wanted you frightened. The sound woke you from your luscious slumber, the sight of the masked man looming of your bed with a gun pointed at you was the only thing you could see and focus on. The panic was real, the fight or flight instinct setting in. You tried to reach into your bedside table to grab your gun, causing the intruder to pistol whip you with his.

"Should've left it alone," he spat at you, laughing and no doubt grinning behind his mask. The throbbing on your face made you wince, blood coated the inside of your mouth. Before you could even ground yourself and figure out a way out the situation, he placed his finger over the trigger and pressed it, sending a bullet directly into your stomach.

You hadn't even realised what had happened, only aware of the sound of the gun reverberating throughout your bedroom, blood seeping in to your bedsheets.

Once you eventually came to, you were in a hospital bed, the beeping signifying you were very much alive -- in a shitload of pain -- but alive. Liv was at the side of your bed, smiling at you when you woke up which you were glad about, you will always be grateful for that.

After a few weeks of recovery, physical therapy and counselling, you had been cleared for desk duty (much to your dismay, you had always hated riding the desk). Upon your arrival, the squad clapped you into the bullpen, everyone glad to see you alive and well. You were glad to see them all, well, almost all of them.

The next few weeks of riding the desk went somewhat well, boring, but okay. Your body was healing, you had found the bastard who shot you, and you had been feeling better in and of yourself. Your partner, Nick, made himself rather scarce though -- which you were glad about. After what happened, you couldn't look at him the same way anymore.

Today, you were sat doing paperwork like any other day, the bullpen rather empty as it was late at night. The only other sign of life was your partner, Amaro. He, too, seemed like he was doing paperwork.

After a while, you hand at started to cramp from all the scrawling on endless amounts of paperwork and your stomach started to throb, still a little bit raw from the shooting. Groaning in pain, you threw the pen down and leaned back in your hair, stretching your muscles out.

Nick's eyes flicked up to your desk, scanning over you. Chewing the inside of his mouth, he said, "You okay?"

Not bothering to look up, you replied a simple "Fine.", bitterness coating the word. He furrowed his eyebrows at that, slightly hurt at your tone. He debated whether to respond or just go back to the sheets of paper in front of him that needed signing.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "sure."

Narrowing your eyes at him, finally daring to look at his handsome annoying face, "What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, head cocking to the side in question.

Shrugging, he continued writing, "Nothin', just doesn't sound like it."

You scoffed at that, how did he have the nerve? "So you, what? Suddenly want to check if I'm alright?" You got up and moved to the break room, your mug firm in your grasp. You needed coffee if you were going to be dealing with this. "You kind of lost that privilege, Amaro."

The use of his last name stung. Since being partners, you very rarely, if ever, used his last name. It was always Nick or his particular favourite, Nicky. Deciding to follow you, the man put his pen down and kicked his chair back, walking towards where you were in the break room.

"I just think you should go home, Y/N," he sighed, "You've been here every night for almost two weeks. You're going to make yourself sick." He ran his fingers through his hair, watching you pour your coffee into your mug before slamming it down on the side. He was surprised it didn't break the damn thing with the amount of force you used.

You turned to face him, pain evident in your eyes, the look itself making Nick's heart clench slightly. "The last time you sent me home, Amaro, it got me shot." You spat at him, grabbing the mug back off the side and shoving yourself past him.

Not thinking clearly, Nick grabbed your wrist and turned you round to face him, so close your noses could almost touch. "You don't get to do that," he whispered at you, eyes flicking between yours, watching your every move like prey. "I was the one who found you. Just laying there. In a pool of your own blood. You looked d--" he took a deep breath before continuing, "--you looked dead. I thought you were dead."

Wrenching your wrist out of his grasp, you took a step back. You were about to speak, "I--"

"Shut up," he cut you off, making you flinch somewhat at his tone, "I took you to the hospital, I watched as they rushed you into the OR and I was there every. fucking. day. I cleaned your house, brought you new bedsheets, and I washed your own blood off the walls that that bastard used to write that shit with." His chest was heaving as he spoke.

You laughed menacingly at him, rolling your eyes. What he was saying should have made you feel bad for him, make you sad or make you feel better, but it only made you angry. "You want sympathy or something? I didn't ask you to do any of that!" You shouted at him, hands flailing about as you did. You were somewhat glad that no one else was in the building at this godforsaken hour.

"You didn't have to!" He was borderline yelling now walking towards you to the point your back hit the wall, "You're my partner," his eyes flickered down from your eyes to your lips and back up to your eyes again, "We have each others backs, no matter what it is. You know that!"

Swallowing the lump in your throat, your previous anger now diminishing into nervousness, extremely aware of the close proximity of each other. Yes, you had always found him incredibly attractive, but he was your partner. That's all it ever would be.

Nick watched as your breathing became deeper, your chest rising and falling -- bringing attention to your tits and how they were accentuated with every breath. You finally had the courage to look in his eyes, noting the lust-ridden look in his eyes and how it made a pool of heat gather in your lower abdomen. The Cuban man smirked at you, "So don't bullshit me, Y/N, you know I would do anything for you. I would kill for you."

Feeling a sense of empowerment, you grabbed the mans tie and pulled him towards you, your lips finally crashing into one another. His tongue worked his way into your mouth, exploring it and mapping it. Moaning into his mouth, the familiar feeling of wetness beginning to gather in your underwear.

Nick's hands gathered behind your head and gripped the roots of your hair, pulling hard enough to elicit a moan. "Oh," he grinned, "you like that?" He asked teasingly.

"Nick," you whined, "please." Your hands clumsily tried to find his belt buckle. You probably looked ridiculous and even down-right desperate, but you needed him. Bad.

Amaro pulled away at that, hands leaving your hair and putting space between the two of you, making you look at him with furrowed brows. Confusion etched onto your features. Did you do something wrong?

Sensing your panic (he always knew when something was wrong), "Baby girl, if I'm going to fuck the ever-living shit out of you," he spoke sensually, moving to push a piece of your hair behind your ears, hands ghosting over your face, "it's going to be in my bed, where only I can hear your pretty little sounds." His words made your core tighten, your mind racing with nothing but the thought of your partner fucking you.

Nick grabbed your hand and led you out the break room, "Where are we going?" You asked, somewhat dumbly, following behind him like a lost puppy.

"My house." He replied simply, grabbing his coat, his bag and your bag.

"But what about the paperwork?" You don't even know why you were still talking at this point, you should learn to shut the fuck up.

"Fuck the paperwork," he shrugged, his hand still in yours and practically dragging you towards the elevator "if I'm going to be doing anything on a desk right now, its going to be you."

[sirenedeslily]

[ ✸ ] › STURNIOLO MASTERLIST.

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ oneshots.

poison in the water — ❛ the preacher's daughter, the town's beloved sweetheart, harboured a pain far deeper than anyone could have ever imagined. matt, the boy who had found solace in her presence, struggled to understand how the love of his life could slip away so tragically. now, he must learn to live without his cherished fawn, accepting his fate of being forever tied to her memory, unable to let go of that fateful day. ❜

hold me — ❛ when matt mentions his girlfriend, his fans instantly erupt in excitement, pleading for him to invite her on the live stream. ❜

when memories snow — ❛ a tormenting and bitter autumn fades into an even colder winter, unrelenting flurries shrouding two lovers in a painful veil of memories and grief. a girl, forever haunted by what was lost and what can only unfold beneath the snow, remains trapped in a ceaseless cycle of naive love and unyielding despair’s. she finds solace in the one soul who saw her, truly saw her and gazed lovingly upon her bare, scarred flesh. ❜

juno — ❛ your shy, out-of-place boyfriend navigates the glamorous chaos of new york fashion week to support his supermodel girlfriend. ❜

my little town — ❛ it’s the 2000s, and in stars hollow, rebellious matt sturniolo, tattooed and brilliant, somehow needs tutoring sessions. yn greenaway, somehow gets pulled into his world of distractions, leaving them both questioning what they really want. ❜

cinnamon girl — ❛ a hardened fighter finds unexpected tenderness in the arms of a gentle soul, where love becomes both his salvation and his deepest fear. ❜

from the tree — ❛ matt thought the crash was the first tremor, the first sign that everything was unraveling. but when yn vanished, the woods grew colder, the trees twisted into shadows, and nothing—not even their love—could hide from the dark that followed. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ oneshots.

your best american girl — ❛ in the bustling streets of new york city, a struggling artist burdened by her mother's chaos meets chris, a vibrant spirit who reignites her dormant passion for art. as their connection deepens through museum visits and intimate conversations, y/n is torn between the weight of her sacrifices and the allure of newfound love. when their paths inevitably part, chris must confront the heartache of losing the muse who transformed his art, while y/n faces the painful reality of her shattered dreams, forever haunted by the ephemeral beauty of their once-shared moments. ❜

mascara — ❛ you find yourself in a dark alley, heart pounding as you lock eyes with chris sturniolo, the cocky frontman of a band. as a man-eating demon, the hunger within you stirs, and the thrill of the chase ignites something primal. with only a few moments to spare, can you resist the urge to claim him as your next victim, or will he awaken desires you never knew you had? ❜

love me like a sailer — ❛ the siren, cursed by the sea and feared by the world, never imagined love could find her—until chris did. in his eyes, she wasn’t a creature of the depths but a soul worth saving. their love, tender and fleeting, was a defiance of fate, a brief escape from the doom that lingered. but when the sea came for her, leaving only her lifeless body on the shore, chris was left devastated. consumed by grief, he could not let her go, forever haunted by her memory, bound to the tragic final moment where love slipped through his fingers. ❜

camden — ❛ a quiet ache lingers, but the warmth of her lover’s presence reminds her that healing begins in the spaces between words. ❜

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ blurbs.

🔖 — ❛ a quiet, late-night moment where two people fall deeper into each other’s embrace, wrapped in warmth, music, and the certainty that they belong together. ❜

🔖 — ❛ matt is tired of sharing you. ❜

🔖 — ❛ ‘tis the season, i guess. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ blurbs.

🔖 — ❛ chris craves your presence in every aspect of his life, even if it means matching nails with his beloved girl. ❜

🔖 — ❛ chris can’t help but love it when his girl speaks spanish, even when she’s hurling insults at him. ❜

🔖 — ❛ trying on halloween costumes would be a lot easier if chris could just keep his hands to himself. ❜

MATTHEW STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ MISC.

video obsession — series; ❛ matt sturniolo was known for many things: his striking looks, his dominance in the gaming world, and his complete inability to keep his cool around beautiful women. so it’s almost poetic—almost—that his fiery temper explodes during an intense fortnite match, broadcasted live to thousands, only to discover later that the player who completely shattered his pride was y/n greenblatt, one of the most beloved streamers in the community—and undeniably beautiful. ❜

pink + white — headcanons; ❛ model!reader. ❜

🪽— moodboard; ❛ pitw’s visuals. ❜

🪽— moodboard; ❛ wmits’ visuals. ❜

00 — texts; ❛ actress!reader && singer!matt. ❜

CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO ⸝⸝ MISC.

ʬʬ ⸝⸝ ʬʬ — smau; ❛ idol!reader && model!chris. ❜

ʬʬ — smau; ❛ skater!chris && bambi!reader. ❜

00 ⸝⸝ 01 — texts; ❛ bambi!reader && skater!chris. ❜

✶ SIRENEDESLILY | 2O24. do not plagiarize any of my work.

[ponderingmoonlight]

I already submitted a request, so I don't know if I can do it again. If not, then sorry, and ignore my message.

You wrote that we can request something of our own. How about any of these options?

1.Gojo loves his wife very much. And when the Elders send her 24/7 without rest on dangerous missions. Gojo becomes very angry with the elders.

2.Gojo again boasts to the reader that he is the strongest. But she answers him that he does not have to be the strongest with her, he can just be Satoru.

I just had to write that first idea down, thank you so much <3 Hope you enjoy!

A word of power

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.

Warnings: lanugage, mentions of injury, not proofread

„Hey darling.“

Your heavy footsteps echo through the dark hallways of your apartment, eyelids hanging heavy in your face. That was a rough mission. The how many? You lost count at 20. It seems like all you do is exorcise, eat, sleep a few hours and repeat everything. You loved being a jujutsu sorcerer by heart, it is a great honor for you to be able to help people this way. But nights like this, when you don’t get to enjoy the warmth of your own home until well after midnight, it really gets to you.

“There you are honey, what took you so long?”

But no matter how rough the mission was, no matter how late you come back, this one person is always there to greet you with a cup of hot tea and a shoulder to cry on. After all, your husband knows well enough how it feels to carry the burden of being a strong jujutsu sorcerer. With the slight difference that he is in fact the strongest.

“Oh, y’know…Things got a little heated, had some new students by my side to watch. One of them got injured so I stayed with him and Shoko until he was well enough to survive the night. Tomorrow I’ll have to leave pretty early in the morning”, you explain briefly, barely able to formulate a straight sentence.

Satoru’s eyes scan over your bruised and feeble looking body. How many missions in a row do you have to endure until these old farts decide to give you a break? You are an outstanding jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than anyone else at Jujutsu High apart from himself. And you have a heart of gold – too good for these people. They use you and you don’t seem to mind as long as you help the weaker and your students out. Normally Gojo admires you for composure, endurance and strength. But haven’t you given enough? Even the strongest need rest from time to time.

“I don’t like the way they are treating you. You are pushed from mission to mission, (y/n). This can’t go on like this, I haven’t really seen you for days. You’re only home to sleep and eat something from time to time.”

You let yourself fall in his lap, instantly greeted by his strong arms. Oh, it feels so good to be back where you belong – in the embrace of your beloved husband.

“You know it yourself: the worst part about being strong is that no one ever asks if you’re okay”, you sign.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, but his body tenses under you. Satoru already told you multiple times that it can’t go on like this. And even though you secretly agree with him, you see no other way. The people need you, as well as your students. Maybe it just isn’t part of the job to have many breaks.

“But I do. And I care about my wife’s wellbeing more than about Jujutsu High itself. I will talk to them. I can’t watch anymore.”

“Satoru.”

Your tired eyes lock with his. You had this talk over and over. Even though you really appreciate his concern, you don’t want him to use the power he has for you.

“You know what I think about that, please don’t.”

“But baby, I really miss you! You lost a fair amount of weight, you sleep maybe 8 hours a week and are constantly worn out. It can’t go on like this. I know that this isn’t a job but your passion and that you refuse to let anyone down, but at the moment, you neglect yourself the most. You need to be your own priority. And if you don’t want to stand up for yourself, be sure that I will. Because I love you with all my heart and I promised to be there for you.”

You really don’t deserve him. Satoru looks after you like no other, his six eyes always set upon you. How can a woman be so lucky and call him her wife? To be honest, you still have no clue why he chose you. Was is because you are strong? Or because you’re smart? Maybe it was for your looks, but there are tons of beautiful women on this earth. You hug him a little tighter.

“I love you, Satoru”, you breathe out, small smile hanging on your lips while your mind slowly drifts away.

Sleep. Sleep sounds good at the moment. Maybe you can rest your eyes for a few seconds…

“(y/n), are you still with me?”

No reaction. The air is only filled by your soft and monotone breathing. He smiles at you tenderly, hands wrapped around your knees and back in order to carry you into the bedroom where you belong. He knows you hate it when he stands up for you, stating that he shouldn’t use the power he holds as the strongest to send you into vacation. Although being married to him, you want to stay independent in your job. Oh, what a great catch you are. But this can’t go on like this.

He lays your passed out body gently on the bed and tucks you in, thumb gently caressing your cheek. How is it possible that even after 2 years of marriage, he still admires your beauty like on the first day he met you at Jujutsu High? No matter how tired and worn out you are, no matter that your body is marked by your work. You must be the most beautiful woman in this world – externally and internally.

Satoru’s hands ball into fists. And that is exactly why he has to do something against this madness. You might be tender, sacrificing selfless, but he is certainly not when it comes to you. They won’t get away with this.

_____________________________________________________________

“Don’t do anything stupid, darling”, you warn him, eyes still glistering from lack of sleep.

You know that look on his face all too well. It doesn’t sit right with him that you leave, especially this early. But you have no other choice. These people need you, as well as your students. When you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you knew it would be hard work and that you have to put your own needs on the back burner. Oh, how much you’d love to spend a day with your husband at Jujutsu High, finally teaching the young how to use their abilities again.

But this is your destiny now. And if you can make your contribution with that, you will simply endure it.

“Don’t know when I’ll come home. I text you when it’s over. Love you”, you place a small kiss on his cheek and take in his scent one last time before you leave again.

Satoru puts on his uniform and makes his way to Jujutsu High. Fuck your determination and prohibitions. He doesn’t care about those anyway. The only thing that’s important to him at the moment is your well-being.

“You’ve got some nerve”, he starts, bursting into the room where Yoshinobu Gakuganji, Masamichi Yaga and some other old farts are gathered on the floor, gazing at him with nothing but annoyance in their eyes.

“You can’t just barge in here like that”, Gakuganji comments.

“I really don’t give a fuck. How is it that my wife has been sent on missions without a break for months? Find someone else to do your dirty work”, Satoru hisses, face visibly irritated even though he’s wearing his blindfold.

“She never complained though. You know yourself that jujutsu sorcerers don’t grow like grass in a meadow. She’s efficient, sturdy and straightforward. She’s old enough to take care of her own, Satoru”, Yaga replies dryly.

Is this for real? Again, Satoru’s hands ball into fists, whole body on fire. Are they actually listening to themselves?

“Yeah, she never complained because she literally never does, boneheads. That was her last mission for time being, otherwise I’ll torch the whole place here. Never forget that it’s my wife we’re talking about.”

“You would never do that”, Utahime remarks.

“Don’t. Test. Me.”

“This is my last warning. Put her back as a teacher, which is actually her main job in this rat hole. If something like that happens again, I’ll make your life living hell. Mark my words.”

And with that, Gojo storms out of the room, leaving everyone in awe. They have never seen him this serious and angry. Maybe you really do need a break.

“I have to say…(y/n) worked her ass off over the last few weeks, more than any other jujutsu sorcerer…”, Gakuganji throws into the room.

“You can’t imagine what happened!”, you yell through the whole apartment, a smile creeping up Satoru’s face.

“I bet you’ll tell my in just a second”, he replies.

“I’ve got some time off, no mission in sight! And I will get to finally teach again. God, I really miss the students”, you groan, letting yourself fall into Satoru’s arms.

“What a lucky coincidence. They must have finally realized that you are working yourself up.”

“Don’t fool me, I know exactly that you have something to do with this. Even though I told you not to.”

“(y/n), I would never do that! As a good husband, I would never in a million years even think about doing something you told me not to do!”, he dramatically announces.

“You threatened them, didn’t you?”

“Well, y’know. I told them a few things”, he admits with a sly smile

You want to be mad at him for disregarding you, but you simply can’t. Deep within, you are way too relieved over a good amount of sleep that you can even think about lashing out on him for helping you.

“Please tell me you weren’t mean.”

You wrap your arms around his large frame and kiss him passionately. God, how much you missed this. Finally you are able to enjoy time with your husband again, to wake up next to him in the morning and snuggle up to him, no following mission lingering through your mind. Only now you realize how tired and worn out you actually are. If it wasn’t for Satoru you’d probably break down rather sooner than later. Maybe you really need to stand up for yourself more…

“Oh, I was. But I don’t want to think about these old farts right now. Let’s go to bed instead.”

“Nothing better than that”, you mumble against his chest while sleep consumes you all over again.

[identityua]

Haha... hi... slides in so cooly and normal-y... I hope you're doing well!! :D

I always find it so so interesting seeing people's relationship headcanons?? So if you're down for it, could we potentially see headcanons regarding a relationship with Richard Sterling and a gender neutral reader? If not that is so chill 🫡 I just think he's so neat & even with the little bit we've been given lore-wise, he's genuinely really interesting.

Anyways, thank you if you do, and no hard feelings if ya don't!! 🫶 :3

I don’t know what you guys see in him… but who am I to judge? Let me know If I messed up his character, I went purely off the canon knowledge here. (Also omg I finally finished my midterms, we can start the finals prep now!)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

R. STERLING HCS

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PAIRINGS: Richard Sterling x GN! Reader

WARNINGS: Sensitive content. Richard being Richard, abusive/toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of intentional harm. Read at your own discretion...

Not proofread!

Source: ianrkives

Let’s start with a little analysis!

You can rely on Mariyka to never sugarcoat someone’s personality or flaws. Maybe, some like to portray this “Knight” as a lovesick, obsessive, manipulative romantic. A dark fantasy, so to say. A term that is often applied to this character archetype is “yandere” — an individual willing to do anything for their love.

Here’s the big kicker. Richard cannot love.

One thorough glance at your partner’s mind under a microscope can tell us a lot about his mental health. Let me put my nerd glasses on as I diagnose Mr. Sterling. Psychopathy and narcissism, textbook examples. While of course not everyone with the diagnostic criteria will push their "sister" down a flight of stairs, the shoe fits unfortunately. This one is villainous and the diagnosis does not help.

So, how does he fit the shoe? Richard does not display empathy or remorse towards his actions, he conceals his true intentions, he is a pathological liar and has delusions of grandiose. He wants to pose as the “Knight”, the ultimate savior for his royal highness. In this case, that is you (condolences).

At first, in pursuit of your heart Richard will come off as charming and dreamy. It may seem like a fairytale! You are the delicate rose and he is the nurturing florist, attending to your every beck and call. In fact, he may proclaim undying love for you as soon as there are hints of reciprocation from your side.

He will use the gentlest words of affirmation to coax you out of your shell and learn what makes you tick. People you value, places you like, your deepest fears... All will be used to keep you glued to his side without a chance of leaving. Richard is fully committed to fostering an illusion of a perfect relationship where his beloved can hide behind his back at any sign of danger. But what to do If he is the danger? Who to call for help now?

All escape routes will be gradually cut off, leaving you to solely rely on your partner. Sterling will step-by-step isolate you away from any support net you have had before, entirely submerging your being underwater, trapped in a fishing net of his unyielding devotion. At least he tries to write it off as devotion. The kisses he showers you with are sickly-sweet honey, ignore the bitter aftertaste.

In reality, the intense feelings hammering in the "Knight's" ribcage are a twisted concoction of preoccupation with the ideal love and a sense of entitlement. He deserves to be your only one, he is the only one who can provide his lover with the best conditions. Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant, Richard knows what is best for you.

Granting you with the ability to be beside him should be an honor you flaunt akin to a precious trophy. After all, the public exclusively sees his affectionate glances towards you and self-sacrificial gestures. The local aunties are in awe at this gentlemanly socialite! Play your role, whether you like it or not. If you are a disobedient actor... well, let's just say he might take some heavier measures to keep you in line.

As a mere boy, your partner was capable of manipulating servants to put them in sticky positions that endangered their well-being. Taking ladders down and leaving maids stranded on roofs, tripping up servants carrying heavy pots. Those little pranks were just a child's play (quite literally). Richard's been off his rollers for a while now, his sadistic creativity sky-rocketing with the flow of time. Tread on eggshells around this one. He may be patient, but pushing it is a bad idea.

A misstep previously cost him everything, forcing his hand at erasing the memories in the flames. He cannot mess up again. No matter how much you analyze the little twitches of your partner's face, Richard can never expose his true self. Can’t you see? He is just the perfect man catered to your desires.

Jealousy is not the right term to describe the sheer amount of hatred he has for any advances towards you. Remember, his sense of identity is built around an illusion. If someone tries to interfere with it? Richard takes it as a personal attack and responds accordingly. Quietly, not to seed any doubt that would compromise his image.

Your "lover" does not shy away from rather unconventional and at times disturbing methods of manipulation. Forget raising a hand at you, no, that would bruise his illusion of a perfect bond. Why not slip an herb you are allergic to into your tea instead? Or "coincidentally" leave you locked out of the residence for the night? A perfect opportunity to have you helplessly rely on your knight-in-shining-armor, chipping away at your self-efficacy.

"My dearest angel, I will cure thy illness.", wiping away the sweat from your feverish forehead, Sterling will grasp at your jaw just tightly enough to cause a stinging sensation. His smile is loving, yet his constricted pupils tell a different story. You write off the threat in Richard's tone alongside a chilling promise as side-effects of the brain fog. You must be seeing things. And he will go to great lengths to keep you in this vulnerable position.

Now, for the million dollar question – does Richard ever develop an attachment to you? The answer is surprisingly yes! However, there are some complications.

Within the first stages of your relationship the "Knight" sees no further than your usefulness in his ideal play. A resource to be discarded If it loses value. Gradually, that fixation begins to make a tiny space for you as a person. Richard finds himself genuinely intrigued by your personality traits and interests, which confuses him to no end. How did he come around to purchase your favorite novel, not because it caresses his ego... but because he wants you to enjoy it? Conflicting and unprocessed emotions will simmer in his mind, resulting in irritation. Then, wariness. Finally, acceptance.

Perhaps, for the first time in his emotionally bland life, there is a sense other than morbid curiosity. Should this realization excuse your partner's malicious actions? Absolutely not! The manipulation will not subside at any point, his delusional goals will keep you on your toes no matter what.

Yet, there will be flowers every morning by your bedside, their fragrance thoughtfully matching your preferences. Richard finds it amusing to scratch this unexplored itch of placing importance onto another person. Don't even think about leaving him. It was never an option the moment you've interlocked your hands in a promise of an eternal love. As the "Knight" he is forever loyal to your bond and the same sentiment is expected in return.

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Our Beloved (Nameless Ghouls)

Summary: During an abusive relationship with a Brother of Sin, Y/n finds she had no strength left to fight; little does she realize there were 5 fighters who would tear the world apart for her.

Triggers: Mention of abuse, mention of blood, pissed off ghouls, fluffy ending

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He should have known better. Should have seen the signs; he should have acted sooner, should have spoken up quicker in her defense. But the past could not be reversed and she was so much better without that fucker. But the regret was strong within his chest that left him sleepless for days riddled with worry for her. How many times had he found her crying alone in a corner trying to hide from the world only to put on a smile for others to see so that they would not know the dark truth? How many bruises did she hide and make excuses for clumsiness he damn knew she did not possess? Far too many. He should have pushed further, asked more questions, said something to her or his bandmates in favor of her safety! All those nights she'd come knocking on the Ghoul's wing with makeup smears as dark and messy as the bruises and marks on her precious skin! He wanted to murder the man - no, a boy. Because that is what he was! A boy who knew nothing of the sacredness of a woman's body and soul. Did he know the damage went deeper than the marks he left on her body could not heal as the bruises on her flesh would over time?

Phantom hated him. Kenneth. The boy who dared lay a hand on the most precious human being in the Ministry. For tainting her view of love and for using her body as much as he abused her heart. It made his blood boil and turned him into a version of himself he didn't recognize. But what could he do? Nothing that would not make her hate him. Y/n was too kind to others. Too sweet for this world…too forgiving of those who wronged her because her heart was just too big; she forgave with the hope things would change. But how many black eyes, hand marks, and split lips will it take for her to realize she didn't deserve any of that; that this show of 'love' was not love at all and a monster could not change his ways with a forgiving heart like hers?

"You have to tell Papa, he can't keep doing this to you. You don't deserve it, angel." Phantom was fuming but he kept his voice calm as he watched with attentive eyes as Mountain wiped at the blood on her brow.

"You don't understand…I just made him lose his cool a little bit. I knew he was busy with work; it is very important to him. I just…I thought he might have wanted to take a break. I should have seen the signs sooner that he didn't want to be bothered. Sometimes he more inclined to take breaks but…I-I suppose he was just overworked today." Y/n murmured, her voice adamant as she defended Kenneth.

"More important than you?" Dewdrop growled cracking his knuckles.

"That's him losing his cool a 'little' bit?" Swiss waved a hand at the girl with an incredulous look on his face. "That's not losing his cool, darling. That's full-on rage mode! What did he do, hit you with a window?!" he snorted at the audacity.

"A mug actually…The handle broke and cut my eye." Y/n replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world, it was to her because this wasn't the first time.

"A…mug? A mug?" Phantom blew up; hands tightening where they were placed on his hips so that he didn't lash out. But the damage was still done; Y/n flinched at the sound of his raised voice and he blew out a slow breath to calm down. He didn't need to add to the damage.

"Honey, that's not normal. It's not okay." Rain murmured gripping her hand that rested in her lap as the Water ghoul sat beside her on the sofa.

"But it-" she began to protest only to hiss when Mountain pressed a cloth to the cut on her eyebrow.

"But it is, blossom. He has the ability to control his own reactions and emotions. He did not have to lash out at you. Not now and not any of the other times." the Earth Ghoul said softly as his attention left the damage on her face to stare into her eyes that were starting to well up with tears.

"We would fucking go to war for you, woman! Why can't you just let us help you?!" Phantom added and Rain glared up at his packmate.

"Not helping Phantom!" he snapped

"We can't keep turning a blind eye to this, babes. We have to tell Papa." Dewdrop added gripping Phantom's shoulder as a silent warning even when his gaze was on the injured girl.

"You can't!" Y/n replied back throwing her hands in the air. "He's the nephew of a politician! He has money, power, and influence in this town! If something like this comes out in the tabloids what do you think will happen?" she looked around at the ghouls with a pointed gaze.

"Ruin his reputation." Swiss snorted crossing his arms.

"No!" the girl snapped. "It would be brushed under the rug just like all the other altercations he has ever had. People will be paid off for their silence, and he goes scot-free!" she explained. "It's just…it's better like this until alternative I have. If I leave him things will get worse…and I don't want this ministry and all of Papa's hard work to get bashed because of one man. I won't allow it." she shook her head and rose to her feet.

"Y/n…" she sighed and hung her head as she wrapped her arms around herself as if for protection.

"It's okay…"

"No, angel it's not. It's never okay." Phantom wrapped his arms around her and cradled her against his chest feeling his heart constrict with pain; but it was nothing compared to the pain she must be feeling and he felt helpless. "We'll fix this…I don't care what it takes, but we're going to fix it."

"A shattered vase is already broken. No matter how many pieces you find you'll never put it back together whole again to make it look perfect." Y/n gave a sad smile before pulling herself away from him and wiping under her eyes.

"I have to go before Kenneth realizes were I went. He's not a fan of you guys." her smile was weak as she headed for the door.

"Trust me, he'll have a whole new reason not to be a fan of ours." Dewdrop growled from behind her but just before she closed the door she paused and peeked back inside looking at each of them with worried eyes.

"Please just…don't say anything." and then she was gone.

It had been a week, a long week that ground on every Ghoul's nerves. Y/n had been avoiding them like the plague, if they were in the same room - even so much as the large mass during eating hours Y/n would pick up her things and leave. It was even worse when Kenneth was with her, that boy had nothing but ill intent; they could already see it. From the glares and sneers, he sent their direction to the way he would have a possessive hold - just a little too tight, around Y/n anytime the Ghouls were within eyesight. Kenneth wasn't stupid, he was simply entitled. He knew the Ghouls knew despite how much makeup Y/n used to try and cover up the marks he left on her. The other Siblings turned a blind eye whether out of ignorance, lack of actual concern, or from fear of what Kenneth would do if they spoke up and said something. Y/n's life was literally hanging on a thread here and no one wanted to try and help the poor girl out - nobody but Papa's ghouls.

Y/n was special to them; anybody could see that. With how closely she worked with them it was a given a sort of friendship would form and it was obvious as well how Kenneth absolutely abhorred their existence; he hated them because he knew they posed a threat. Like staring a lion down from outside the enclosure but knowing if he ever left the safety they'd tear him apart limb by limb, and each day that fence was slowly growing smaller and smaller.

Today was the straw that broke the camel's back. The funny thing about egotistical entitled people like Kenneth was eventually, they'd slip up; too confident in what they think they have they believe they could do anything without repercussions. That was essentially Kenneth's downfall.

They found them by following Y/n's voice; her scared and shaky voice that rose the hairs on their backs and made their tails bristle. Kenneth and Y/n were in the garden. The pair had been assigned to weed the flower beds along the garden paths that day after it had rained the night previous. The ghouls did not know what had caused the brutality but they sure as hell weren't going to stand there and do nothing. They came upon the scene that froze them for a moment, the boy Kenneth was holding Y/n by her throat; a sneer of nasty intent on his face as he said something to do before he suddenly turned and shoved her face first into the pillar that held up the garden's archway and causing her to cry out as the intricate stone dug into her face. But he did not stop there and with a face red pulled her away by his hold on the back of her neck only to shove her face harder into the stone.

He was seething; saying something into her ear as her breathless pleas fell on deaf ears as he continued to rage on the innocent girl. The ghouls saw red. Racing over the pathway and jumping over flowerbeds as a shortcut to reach her in time. Phantom's grip was like iron as he gripped Kenneth's shirt and yanked him off of Y/n and threw him to the ground before pouncing like a feral animal.

Y/n sobbed as Swiss's arms wrapped around her and pulled her against his chest while he sank to the ground when Y/n's knees wouldn't keep her up any longer. Curling her small body into his lap as he tried to shield her face by hiding it against his neck while Mountain crouched beside her trying to assess her damage. Rain hand to pull Phantom off of the boy who was putting up a fight but losing badly - Dewdrop yanking the boy off the ground and pinning him face first into another pillar; arms bent at an uncomfortable angle to keep him still but Phantom wasn't finished, he was beyond pissed and if he had the ability he would have been spitting fire from his mouth and nose at this point.

The commotion brought a racing sibling over with Sister Imperator and Papa Copia right on their heels. "What in Satan's name is going on here?!" Sister Imperator demanded when she took in the crying female tucked away within the embraces of two of Papa's ghouls while the others were actively trying to keep a beat down from happening; not that it did much. Kenneth looked like a mess with blood smeared and leaking from multiple wounds.

"Those lunatics attacked me!" Kenneth spat blood out from his mouth and bared his blooded teeth at Dewdrop when the smaller ghoul; despite his small stature was inhumanly strong, snarled in anger at his words.

"Fucking liar!" Phantom growled struggling against Rain's hold.

Copia looked over at Y/n and his eyes widened; rushing over to her he knelt in the wet grass to assess her - ignoring the rumble of warning from Swiss and Mountain, they would not hurt their Papa. They were just protecting what was theirs. He understood that so he was very careful as he reached out to the girl; a gloved hand stroking along her messy locks and seeing she had blood from a few open wounds smeared across her skin.

The pieces were starting to click into place. He knew his ghouls would never harm a sibling without warrant and they adored Y/n; she was one of the most precious things they held dear so this was not of their doing. His face grew grim and his eyes darkened a bit as he looked over at Kenneth. The belligerent look that was on the boy's face slowly fell when he met his eyes when his brain registered the fact that Papa knew. He was not as stupid as he often made people believe he was.

"My office, now." Papa rose sharply and turned on his heel; Dewdrop yanked the boy from his position and frog-marched him across the lawn after the man.

"Oh, don't you worry, honey. I'll be coming back for you; just wait." Kenneth sneered as he passed Y/n and Mountain had to grip the back of Swiss's neck to keep him from launching at the stupid mortal who was laughing his psycho ass off as he was marched away and out of sight.

Rain released Phantom once they were out of sight and the guitarist shook himself off trying to calm his jittery nerves; he really wanted to beat that little shit into tomorrow until he was facing the gates of Hell but he was thankful his pack intervened when they did; he didn't know what he would have done if he had killed the boy or what it would have looked like to the Clergy or Papa. Once he was sufficiently calmed down enough he was at Y/n's side in an instant. Kneeling in the wet grass and pulling her out of Swiss's hold and into his instead; straddling her across his lap as he burrowed his face against her neck and holding her tightly by her waist.

Y/n sniffled as she wrapped her arms around his head and held him close; her body still trembling from the shock and pain. "I-I'm sorry." she whispered nuzzling her head against his mask. "I'm so sorry…"

"Shhh, angel. It's okay…You are safe, he won't ever hurt you again. We won't let him. He's caught red-handed; there's not way he'll be able to touch you ever again." Phantom muttered whether more for her comfort or for himself he wasn't quiet sure.

"You were right though, I should have spoken up sooner…I should have had more faith in myself and not been so weak." she sniffled

"Aw, sweetheart it's not your fault. You were in a tough spot…" Swiss tried to soothe as he rubbed a hand down her back.

"No, you guys were right. I should have acted sooner…But I had hoped-" She began pulling away to look at the others.

"You have a good heart, Y/n." Rain smiled through his mask and crouched beside them. "A good heart who believes in humanity and kindness. It's no fault of yours if others choose to be a dick."

The girl gave a watery laugh and shook her head but she knew it was true. "Yeah…"

"Mind if we ask what brought that on?" Mountain asked as he idly examined the flex of scarlet on the otherwise pristine green of the lawn.

"He was jealous. Accused me of being a whore because I spent too much time with you guys…because I talked to another brother…because I helped a sibling out with chores instead of helping him. Who knows? Kenneth didn't need a reason." she mumbled

"Oh, honey." Rain murmured squeezing her shoulder. "You're a saint you know that?"

"Saint or a fool. Doesn't matter, if it wasn't for you guys…I probably have been fertilizer." Y/n shrugged a bit and played with the tubes of Phantom's mask.

"Let's go inside, the scent of blood is giving me the jitters." Phantom grumbled as he began standing up; keeping his hold on the girl at all times as he rose and carried her like a little koala bear from the garden, really it was just an excuse to hold her and a reminder that she made it out alive breathing and still warm.

Y/n did not argue as she clung to her ghoul and allowed them to lead her back to the safety of the Ghoul wing which not even Kenneth could reach from. She allowed herself to be taken from Phantom to be given to Rain as the Water Ghoul helped her into a warm bath that smelled of lavender to soak in as he took care to clean off the grime and blood, but it was more for her mental state of mind - as a physical representation of wiping and scrubbing Kenneth's touch and influence from her body. He was gentle with his touch when he bathed her and he helped her dry off with a soft towel; she had little shame at this point that she was naked.

She was helped into a pair of sweatpants that were slightly baggy on her that she knew was Dewdrop, an oversized shirt that practically fits like a dress on her - a tribute of Mountain that smelled of lemongrass and sage. A heady scent that reminded her of her time out in the Greenhouse with him. A pair of fuzzy socks belonging to Swiss were soft on her feet when Rain helped her into them and she felt enveloped by the love of each of her Ghouls. After her bath Rain helped brush her hair and braid it back for her before leading her to the game room where the others waited.

Mountain took over her care while he patched her up. Using specially made ointments and gels that he had made with her in mind to heal her. Wrapping up and bandaging her injuries with the utmost care and tenderness. While this was going on Swiss had put on a record that was one of her favorites to play low in the background while Dewdrop who had returned sometime during her spa treatment had helped Phantom create a large mass of pillows, comforters, blankets, and a few stuffies of Rain's to throw in a pile on the carpeted floor in front of the TV that had one of her favorite movies paused and ready to play.

She laid herself out amongst the softness of the nest they created and sighed in relief as her aching muscles that had gone lax from her bath earlier just seemed to turn into jelly. Her was soon crowded in by the others as they settled in; claiming her attention and space as if they owned it. They owned her heart so might as well! Phantom took possession of her as he slipped beneath her and allowed her to use him as a body pillow; masks and uniforms have now gone from each of them as they too got comfortable for the day. Rain took one side while Dewdrop took the other; crowding against Phantom and Y/n's sides as arms draped across waists and shoulders. Mountain and Swiss took the outer age; content to hold their packmates while their tails looped around Y/n's limbs that they could reach as a way to let her know they were there.

"Thank you, for what you did today…and thank you for never giving up on me even when I gave up on myself." Y/n murmured as she nuzzled into Phantom's chest.

"Aw, baby girl you know we'd always fight for you." Swiss cooed shooting her a smile

"What you do not see in yourself, others see in you." Rain murmured sleepily as he nuzzled against her hand as it lifted to stroke along the etchings on his features.

"A butterfly cannot see how beautiful it's wings are but others can and appreciate it; perhaps one day you'll look in the mirror and see just how special you are, little dove." Mountain rumbled

"That's so cheesy." Y/n laughed and the others let out chuckles of amusement.

"Maybe it is, but we hope one day you'll realize just how amazing you are. You are worthy of all the love this world has to offer you. Kenneth was a dick and he abused a beautiful soul; but I promise you, you'll heal in time and we hope someday you will see yourself through our eyes." Phantom sighed reaching up to stroke her hair.

Y/n closed her eyes feeling the sting of tears burning them and she could do nothing more than tighten her hold and nod. "Thank you." she whispered.

"Nothing to thank us for, darling." Dewdrop yawned "We got your back, always."

Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies, @darklylucid

[fountainpenguin]

Short Version: I don't even know how to begin explaining this, so take these 'fic doodles with no context.

Wish Fixers, my chronically unhelpful beloved...

Long Version (City Lights AU #ridspoilers beyond the above implication. Mentions of death and trauma; it gets pretty dark)

Nalooksthrough, I tag you below because I cited your co-dependent toxic friendship comic and said it was cool- If you don't want to click, that's all the tag was :)

So I started outlining my Dale backstory 'fic (Lemonade and Papercuts) since I am the most predictable person alive and of COURSE I can't resist 7 years of trauma and intimacy anxiety <3. But planning a 'fic like this requires many pieces and many questions.

First and most obvious- How did Vicky lure in Dale? From previous planning, I've already decided that since they're the same age (maybe one year off), they probably knew each other in school or activities.

Ex: Squirrely Scouts & Cream Puffs... Not unreasonable- Throughout the series, many kids participate and the organizations seem to have a big following in Dimmsdale. Vicky's sister Tootie is in the Cream Puffs and Vicky is seen bossing them around in the Season 0 episode "Scout's Honor" ("Oh Yeah! Cartoons"). There's a comic by the same name depicting Remy in Squirrely Scouts (after "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" but before he gets his memories back in "Remy Rides Again" and I always thought it was cute). I mean, look at him:

Pictures courtesy of the FOP Wiki

It's not unreasonable that Dale - who's also rich - might've gotten into that (especially since Doug is big on the cowboy theming and of all the rich parents, he's probably the one most okay with his son playing in dirt). Something scout-related could be an option even if Dale and Vicky went to different schools.

A friendship that gets increasingly toxic until it spirals into full-on abuse sounds really interesting (and @nalooksthrough portrayed this idea beautifully imo in THIS comic I can't stop thinking about).

Sounds fun to write, so let's go with that. What's next?

Hey, remember when 7 years ago, I headcanon'd H.P. as Dale's godfather because of this doodle in Da Rules that specifically refers to Pixie godparents and depicts a fluffy-haired kid in a purple shirt?

I recently found out I still had Dale listed as a godchild of H.P. on his full character profile on my fanfic sideblog. I was waffling over whether to retcon that (since I hadn't yet done anything with it), but I started brainstorming whether I COULD do anything with it.

I've always written Wish Fixers in 'fic [e.g. Origin of the Pixies] as a therapy business run by H.P.'s dad (which H.P. bought off him out of spite despite not being licensed for therapy) but, like...

Does Jorgen know H.P. isn't licensed? I can't see why he would... As far as he knows, H.P. owns and runs the place- especially given my lore that Wish Fixers has been in his family for many generations. Sounds qualified to me!

In "School's Out! The Musical" (episode that Da Rules screenshot is from), we learn Pixies are at the back of the line for godparent work, even under creatures like unicorns (Hence the Musical's plot requiring them to remove magical creatures from earth before they could assign themselves to Flappy Bob).

I said in a recent liveblog post that I'd always imagined this was a punishment given to them due to H.P. absolutely failing as godfather to Dale- Thus, the origin of the doodle on the page for that rule. But... I never decided what happened.

See, Dale SEEMS like a guy who would qualify for a fairy. He was probably pretty miserable under Vicky's 7 years of torture and he's still holding onto that trauma in his adulthood.

DID he have a fairy?

I'm just saying, we know from S4's "Wish Fixers" that H.P. is legally(?) allowed to make contracts that swap a fairy godparent with a pixie one if godkids choose to sign of their own free will... Hmm... I'm connecting dots I don't think I like... (I am lying).

I mean?? Dale clearly did not get out of the pit due to magical interference. If I'm committing to the doodle being Dale and reflecting an actual godfather-godson dynamic between him and H.P., then something sure went wrong there. I can't NOT make Dale suffer...

What on earth could've made Dale sign a contract for something a fairy couldn't give him? We know from "Nectar of the Odds" canon that he wished to see his dad, and thanks to previous liveblogs, I DO already have a headcanon of Dale being extremely desperate for his dad's love... Hmm... I can work with that.

I went down a rabbit hole trying to answer the question of how Vicky secured lemons for 7 years for Dale (and other kids) to work with. Here are some lemon tree facts:

- Lemon trees bear fruit after only a few years - They can bear fruit multiple times a year (depending on variety) - A single lemon tree can produce 1,500 lemons in one growing season - Dimmsdale is in California - a state known for lemon orchards.

That feels likely... An orchard of even a few trees can keep you going for a while.

But lemonade doesn't sell for much compared to other things Vicky could've set a kidnapped child up to do (Ex: In "Microphony," she has kids doing a bunch of other tasks like answering phones for her babysitting service, painting houses, and washing cars).

So... WHY lemonade? What is going on that makes this the thing Vicky has Dale do for 7 years?

And who owns the orchard? I need Vicky to obtain lemons without being stopped for 7 years.

Is it a Dimmadome orchard? Maybe, but several episodes imply Vicky's not familiar with the Dimmadomes - and she probably would have turned Dale in for cash reward if given the chance - so those are two things I need to keep in mind.

Does the orchard belong to her family? That's a possibility- Vicky is shown drinking lemonade after "Nectar of the Odds." She definitely could've bought it - It can't be too expensive unless prices were jacked up after she lost her cheap labor - but it's a drink she's seen with in multiple episodes. She definitely likes it.

And we know from "Timmy's 2D House of Horror" that Vicky's parents are terrified of her. It's not likely they'd stop her from taking lemons from the family orchard.

One problem... If Dale goes missing when he's about 9 (Closer to 7 or 8 in my planned timeline), Vicky is also 9 or younger. Are her parents scared of her when she's that small and inexperienced in the ways of the world?

In "The Switch Glitch," she's 5 and seems mild and sweet until 10-year-old Timmy mistreats her- She clearly didn't have memories of Timmy, implying she totally regressed to how she acted when she really was 5. Worth pointing out she goes off the deep end and chains up Cosmo and Wanda, so... she IS mean even at age 5. But also, she's 5. She wears the same purple hair bow in "Switch Glitch" (at 5) that she does when Timmy drains the meanness out of her in "Vicky Loses Her Icky," which is interesting.

So that begs the question... Can I turn my Dale backstory 'fic into a double story of Dale abuse AND Vicky going from a pretty innocent child to Totally Messed Up? Keeping in mind that according to Vicky in A New Wish, Vicky IS the one responsible for abusing him and he "spent 7 years' worth of Saturdays in a factory underneath a lemonade stand."

If that's the way I want to play it... Something happened to send Dale and Vicky down the dual victim-and-abuser path, destinies intertwined. And for some reason, Vicky stuck with the lemonade theme.

Dale just says he spent his Saturdays "in a factory underneath a lemonade stand." It's not out of the question he and Vicky made more lemon products than just lemonade, especially given Vicky's love for money (and those 600 lbs of lemons one tree can produce in a year). We can assume they changed locations a few times or someone would've found the trapdoor on Timmy's lawn. Plus when Dale started his abuse, Vicky hadn't started babysitting Timmy, whom she only met when he was 8.

So, I've set Dale up to be lured in by Vicky because they were friends. I like the idea of things gradually getting worse as Vicky slowly morphs from a friend into a very cruel person. If Vicky was bullying him, what stopped him from just... leaving?

Vicky's transformation was probably subtle if he stayed for so long..... I also pointed out in a recent post that Doug's underground milk empire where he uses hypnotized people for labor bears a striking amount of similarities with Vicky's lemonade stand, even down to the general vibes of "trapdoor entrance" (although it's implied there's another entrance in small building).

And if we want to be technical about things... We don't know if Doug and Dale pressed charges against Vicky. She clearly continues to babysit Timmy and other kids after "Nectar of the Odds" (Season 2).

In Season 4 ("Channel Chasers"), Doug remarks that Timmy's parents should've guessed Vicky was evil because of the Chip Skylark song "Icky Vicky," but he doesn't mention Vicky kidnapping his son. That's.... sus. He even offers to buy a car from her in Season 3's "Engine Blocked" (after Dale's escape).

Why would such a powerful guy let all of that slide? Did they just not have enough proof? Did Vicky wipe the place clean? Did Dale "not want to make a big deal about it" because he was so exhausted and grateful, he just didn't want to think about it or struggle with the legal system? Was he covering for her?? Was he scared to speak up?

... Did Dale not tell his dad the whole truth about where he was?

What if Dale was - in some vague and early concept way - in on the lemonade scheme from the beginning, back when he and Vicky were friends and she wasn't so cruel? Maybe she turned on him and sentenced him to the pit before long?

Why the underground-ness of it? Why the lemonade, which probably doesn't turn much profit... as lemonade. Unless you have unrestrained access to tons of lemons that you can turn into multiple products - Dale DID call it a factory - and no one is stopping you from accessing them...

... but how do you set up a situation where kids have access to a whole lemon orchard - presumably carefully maintained - and the adults don't take it away from them (Because... surely they would've found Dale and multiple other kids if they strayed close).

And Dale didn't leave. He does in "Nectar of the Odds" - apparently of his own volition - but not before. Was he kept there mentally as well as physically?

We KNOW Vicky can't be monitoring him 24/7 because "Nectar of the Odds" is the only episode depicting her paying attention to him, while others show her doing many other things in many other places (though it's worth noting Dale says in that episode that "Vicky's kept him locked up for so long").

Did he stay so long because it was the perceived better fate up until he miraculously crossed paths with his dad (via fairy magic) and took the risk? Would he have gone back in?

Maybe it wasn't supposed to get this out of hand. Dale and Vicky were young when this started... Somewhere between 7 and 9 (given that Dale was kept there for 7 years and Vicky is 16 when he escaped and he tells 9-year-old Dev this happened when he was Dev's age).

Maybe there was an accident. Something not just Vicky, but even Dale felt the need to cover up, especially in regards to the orchard and the fact that it needs to be Vicky's consistent source of lemons (and not something she lost out on before Dale's escape... an illusion of ownership maintained. Kids can't own the orchard, but what if they fooled people into believing it wasn't owned by kids?)

Hmm... some kind of accident that got two mostly innocent kids into huge trouble, thus setting up a horribly intertwined fate where if one of these toxic co-dependent friends backs out and squeals, even the squealer might suffer worse compared to trucking along on the cruel existing path.

tl;dr - if Vicky and Dale accidentally killed the orchard owner but they were kids and terrified to tell an adult lest they go to jail for life so they hid the body in the basement (or like ?? threw it to the coyotes or hyenas that inexplicably lurk on the fringes of Dimmsdale??) and are trying desperately to wipe their hands of this by pretending the lemon orchard is still operational so no one investigates until they can figure out a plan, and then Vicky hardens herself as a trauma response and manipulates Dale into believing it was solely his fault and she'll pin him with murder charges if he gets cold feet and turns her in, and he's miserable and gets a fairy (then loses his fairy via Pixie contract through Wish Fixers, presumably in an attempt to negotiate a way to protect himself from Vicky and somehow not gaining the ire of his father) and then H.P. (lawyer and unlicensed yet de facto therapist pulled two ways) is suddenly Dale's godfather and trying to comprehend what the flip is going on between misery and manslaughter while he's also juggling Gary, Betty, and Flappy Bob at the same time in preparation for the Musical because we know he spent 37 years on that plan...

... Would that be one messed-up yet hyperspecifically canon-compliant 'fic or what?

These thoughts have been haunting me all weekend and I HAD to get my "I'm not that kind of lawyer or therapist" joke out of my system, so there's your context. #Sorry. Is this the direction the actual 'fic will go? ... It's not the direction I really had in mind, but ?? It's off the wall and therefore I must shake it in my teeth. I can't not write Dale backstory this horrific. what. hey.

[arieswritez]

Girlie I have just caught up with invincible and ain’t nobody doing it like you. Why is no one writing for my boy or his demonic alternates. Anywho, I literally can’t stop thinking about if a yan!mark replaced our sweet beloved mark through some interdimensional switchroo thing. But can you imagine, yan!mark trying to play along until he gets fed up and shows his true colours 😳😳🥵🥵

a change in you | alternate/yan!mark x gn!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!! MDNI! stalking, manipulation, abusive relationships, threats of violence, & actual violence, rape.

a/n; this is a SUUPER old ask (like last yr..) & i can't believe i had never posted it HHHH will try to publish some nearly finished asks/short fics while i finish up puppy love :3 also as a DISCLAIMER!!! there's an implication that may be interpreted as the reader menstruating but - much like my yandere!nsfw hcs - it's vague. can be interpreted as a nosebleed, too. the story will not change whatsoever if you don't menstruate :) that being said, there are no mentions of reader's sex characteristics. okie thank u bye 🫶🏾

i like to think the way you find out about mark's obsession is purely accidental.

you've always known mark to be. . eccentric.

but it's always been cute. awkward in the way young men are and you're glad he was the first boy you experienced romance with. mark was safe and kind, loving, and infuriating, but overall: you felt he made you a better person and you were glad you got to navigate those complicated emotions with him.

mark was always patient, caring, even when he was going through tough shit himself.

and despite how much you know and love mark, you couldn't pinpoint when you felt something in him had changed.

it was like he turned into a completely different person in the blink of an eye.

the way he'd style his hair, the clothes he wore, the way he walked, talked. . the way he touched you was so different.

but you gave him grace.

you had to be strong for the both of you.

you knew trauma was complicated.

you knew to be there for him during moments of apathy and self loathing. . even in moments where that apathy - that invisible dam holding everything together - would burst and leave you in the midst of an outburst.

you knew what you signed up for.

you knew it was bound to happen and you still loved him, anyway.

people are not themselves when they've gone through traumatic experiences.

but something was. . off about mark.

a slight darkness you weren't sure was completely attributed to grief alone.

he tried to initiate sex in the most inopportune times. and sometimes, the two of you are just making out, sweet and innocent, a peck that devolved into something more passionate.

he'd always end on top of you, pinning you, biting you, and oftentimes you're on the brink of tears, begging him to stop when he wrestles his way between your thighs.

the furthest he's gone has been the two of you nearly naked, pinning you by the throat with his cock in hand. the film always leaves his eyes and he makes up with kisses and hugs while you sob into his chest.

it's trauma, you tell yourself, it makes people not act like themselves. little do you know that he was just trying to wear you down.

you used to imagine the life you and mark would lead.

graduating and attending the same college was something the two of you had been planning since you started dating. the shitty little apartment outside of campus mark wanted so desperately was just a small bonus. something that'd make the two of you feel all the more grown up.

a place with more privacy, he'd said while wiggling his brows and biting your shoulder. it was cute. quiet. definitely private.

and most importantly, it wasn't just mark's. no, he'd made that crystal clear. the apartment was for you both. and with excited hugs and smothering kisses, he pulled away long enough to put a small key into the palm of your hand.

afterwards, it was only a matter of time.

you thought it was cute: when you found the box. you thought it was a surprise he'd been planning for you. something for your birthday or your anniversary. you'd found it while tidying up and you sat on his bed, debating if you should open it.

if it was for you. . you wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise.

and it wasn't, you didn't want to invade his privacy.

but, alas, curiosity got the best of you and you opened the pretty little box with the bow on it.

the top was filled with polaroids with the two of you: making silly faces at the camera while he pointed it at the mirror, the two of you in an amusement park, your arms filled with stuffed animals he'd won for you. others, with you smiling, then sticking your hand in front of the camera. candid shots of you sitting across from him, looking out of a car's window, reading, writing.

. . eating. .

. .changing. .

. . showering. .?

sleeping. .

and beneath the polaroids, you plucked out bits of clothing you swore you'd lost.

a bracelet.

a ring.

an earring.

crumpled band-aids with rusted blood and - cotton- ?

you slam the box closed, your heart hammering in your chest.

and all of a sudden, things didn't feel right. they hadn't before. . but there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that confirmed it all.

and even then, you tried lying to yourself. you tried telling yourself that it was just something he did to cope with the fear of losing you.

he's woken up in the middle of the night, grasping for you, hyperventilating at the thought of you gone.

he's sobbed in your arms, and sometimes, within his hysteria, he's told you you'll die one day. and he won't know what to do with himself. so you tell yourself, he's afraid.

he's holding onto everything he can and you shouldn't judge the way he copes. . you shouldn't.

but even then, the way your hair rises at the nape of your neck, or the way gooseflesh spread across your skin as you stumble away from the bed. . you don't know what to think.

except: i need to get out of here. and mark needs help before he hurts the both of us.

you dont care that the box is on the bed when you throw your jacket on.

you dont care when you half hazardly snatch your keys off the bed and rush to the door.

your brain is running on paranoia, senses on fire, as your body runs on pure adrenaline.

you dont think anything could stop you but as you walk out of the bedroom, you bump into a body that might as well be a brick wall.

his response is immediate and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart races inside your chest when the two of you make eye contact.

you hope your initial face expression didn't flicker with horror that millisecond. but you think it did. judging by the way his eyes narrow.

"you alright?"

you blink, adjust your bag over your shoulder. "yeah! i was just -"

you try to side step him.

he steps in your way.

whether intentionally or not. . panic rises within you like bile : ready to spill out. "i'm just stepping out for a minute. i was -"

"you didnt tell me you were coming."

you pause. "u-uh, yeah. i wanted to surprise you but. . i -" think quick. you think on your feet, or you dont think at all. "- forgot the surprise in my car!"

mark stares at you for a second, unblinkingly. and the blank expression is enough to grab you by the throat and stop your breathing.

he blinks.

and his lips spread into a small smile that looks more like a sneer.

"we can't have that, can we?" his voice is lower, slower, more pronounced as he inunsiates.

and you feel a chill within your body in his presence that you've never felt before.

"go on, then." he whispers, staring directly into your eyes. his words are breathy, you can hear his breathing picking up. . the same breathiness you'd notice in the bedroom when you'd start kissing on his neck.

he dips down to plant a quick, departing kiss on your lips. .

. . and you flinch.

you hear him snicker. . or huff out a humorless laugh.

he pulls back. all the while you freeze at your own reaction.

". . are you sure you're ok?" he asks, but he doesn't sound all that concerned.

in fact, the question doesn't even feel like a question. it sounds more like he's stating something.

"i'm fine." you say quickly. you try to side step him again.

he steps in your way.

he stops, laughs, as if it was a mistake. . but the laugh is cruel. more of a giggle.

you side step him.

he steps in your way.

now. . now you know it's on purpose. and your heart's racing so fast you think your knees are going to give out. you scour your brain for excuses while your senses scream at you to fight him. you're not doing too good at fleeing, after all.

but you know it wont end well. mark is a million times stronger than you. and the thought of him hurting you has never crossed your mind but you know he needs help and you're not sure what to think anymore.

but your frozen in place. and like the poem, as you plan out every single, miniscule detail of your escape: the fig tree rots.

you're waiting. and you don't know what you're waiting for. for him to attack you, maybe? for him to get it over with?

like a cheesy horror movie, you wait for the jumpscare. but the jumpscare never comes.

you know it will but you don't know when. and so, until then, you wait and try to ignore that feeling in your stomach.

the two of you stand there in suspended silence and, finally, you watch his eyes leave yours.

in a slow, fluid, agonizing crawl, you watch his eyes peek over your shoulder. . into the bedroom where the bed is most likely in view. .

. . as is the innocent little gift box.

you hadn't even thought to close the door behind you in your haste. and the realization bathes you in anguish.

"is that it on the bed?" he whispers.

he knows it's not.

but still, you weakly whisper, "yes." sure, anything, your brain begs, please just leave me alone.

"you lied to me."

"mark, i really have to go."

he leans towards you and whispers against your lips: "you wanna go through it together?"

he dips forward to press his mouth against yours and you jerk away in panic.

you try to move around him, but the move causes you to stumble back. . into the bedroom. . and he takes a step forward.

"seriously, mark! i have to go!"

he straightens.

fixes you that same blank expression.

and then, the glaze in his eyes leaves.

"whatever." he says.

you get out of his way and rush towards the door. . weaving through corridors, you don't notice when your feet pick up speed and you're sprinting towards the front door.

your bag drops in your haste but you see the front door.

your palm closes against the doorknob.

you open it.

it slams back shut.

the sound rattles your bones.

and you don't have to look up to know there's a palm holding it shut. . you can feel mark's body pressing up behind you.

his breathing's quick. . and you can feel his heart beating against your back. . and his hard cock pressing against you.

he dips down and you flinch at the feeling of his hot breath ghosting along the shell of your ear when he whispers, "and here i was, thinking i'd keep it up for a few more weeks. . or until you gave it up, at least."

"mark," you plead, tears streaming down your face. "i know you're going through a lot. and i know this isn't you. please, just. . let me help you, ok?"

"help me? how would you do that -"

" - we'd get you someone to talk to-"

" - it seems to me the only thing you were doing was leaving."

"no! mark, i wasn't!"

"no?" he singsongs and you tense when one of his hands weaves through the space between the door and your waist, placing a hand beneath your belly button and pulling your hips back so you can feel his cock pressing against you.

"no." you whimper. "i swear i wasn't."

and instead of pulling, mark steps closer and pins you against the door as his hips rock, humping against your ass as your body freezes.

"good." he murmurs. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

you loved the little life the two of you lead. it wasn't glamorous. nothing like the shiny, five bedroom mansion you'd imagine you'd own when you were six years old, obsessed with reality tv and prince charming. but it was homey. and you had mark.

when he came into your life, as long as he was there with you, it's all that mattered.

you guys had furnished the apartment together.

he'd helped you move that heavy couch near the front door, across from the television.

you'd spend lazy days cuddled up against each other, fingers greasy with popcorn, as you tried your best to ignore mark's rambling and comments throughout the movie. you'd lounged there, slept there, felt his hands at your hips, pulling you back towards him with his breath on the side of your neck as he moved inside of you.

you'd felt loved then.

you're not sure what it is now.

your body hangs off the arm as he slams into you from behind and still, you try reaching for the doorknob. your fingertips only brush against it, slip against the shiny metal, crying out when you can't get a good grip on it.

the golden doorknob jingles cruelly, tauntingly, before mark gets sick of hearing it. he grabs your arm and forces it behind you, holding it in a vice grip to your lower back. he does the same with the other when you try to wriggle it out from under you.

you feel him lean down over you, the smell of him filling your senses, and whispers, "he must've been so nice to you. . fucked you so good," he enunciates the word with a sharp thrust." . you're spoiled. i don't know how he controlled himself. you so desperately need to be fucked up."

he grabs a fistful of your hair and forces you to your knees, back against his chest, and squeezes your throat with his other hand.

you claw at them as you try to rasp out his name before you find that there is no use.

after all, you're not sure you can call him your mark anymore.

[lazy-ahh]

Wow, who told you that you could write perfection? A Beautiful, Monstrous Thing? Did your hands catch fire while typing it?

OH MY GOD

I love how it kind of feels like Reader is somewhat at fault for the way Mark turned out because if he had stopped Mark at any point of the first signs of danger, maybe Mark could've changed. But Reader didn't because he himself has always been different and secretly wanted to see how far Mark would go. And Mark knows it.

It’s actually kind of beautiful (… and monstrous—) the way they influenced the other. Reader became a hero because of Mark. Mark became sinister because Reader never stopped him. He always saw that lustrous, dangerous glow in Reader’s heart, and he wanted to be Reader’s gleaming blade until Reader was ready to accept that part of himself. Mark lovingly did long ago. It was like a moth to a flame.

Reader being a superhero was a temporary act for both himself and Mark. Mark loved superheroes? Reader turned himself into one because it's also the "right thing to do," right? All Reader's life, he's tried to fool himself with a lie about what was right and wrong. Society taught him to differentiate and how to act, but he didn't care. That excited feeling that craved chaos and Mark's dark approval never left, and it only grew when Mark turned his back on everyone, but Reader.

In a way, Mark is like Reader's freedom, to stop this worthless act of a just hero. Reader is tired of it, and Mark knows he's tired of it.

Mark is Reader's angel covered in debris and blood who’s chosen his version of freedom. And Reader will learn that he has always been Mark’s angel that needed the chain on his wings removed. And Mark is the only one who can help him.

Reader just has to take his hand and let Mark lead the way. And Mark is more than happy to see his beloved finally let go and embrace his true self. While citizens choke on their tears, soaked in their own blood as the Earth they called “home” falls apart, see the pillar of justice they once thought they could rely on - to be so confident to find safety in - betray them, Mark will be floating idly by, muttering “Beautiful…” because THIS is Reader. Those foolish cockroaches thought they knew Reader? NO. Only Mark knows Reader. He’s known Reader more than Reader knew himself until he unchained his heart that beat for destruction and took off the mask that Reader wore to blend in, for Reader doesn’t have to hide himself anymore. What he is, who he is, is for Mark, and that’s the most beautiful sight that the galaxy and no other universe could ever hope to compare to.

I’m so looking forward to you updating this fantastic story. Pardon me for getting ahead of myself and yapping. I’m so invested in this. My mind is going haywire! If I may share what’s going through my mind (I’m not asking this to be in the story, swear 🙏):

Since Sinister boasted how he killed his dad in the show, my mind is 👀👀👀 Imagine him killing Nolan because Reader being male wouldn’t work in giving the Viltrum Empire more offspring, so Mark nips that in the bud real quick. Nothing more romantic than killing your own father and forsaking both species of human and Viltrumites that you you’re related to (aside from one special little being, of course~) in the name of love~.

Another thing my mind goes to is Reader going with Mark to the other universe to fight main Mark in the Invincible War. Imagine all the other variants’ reactions, the sinister couple hearing their stories of Reader from their universe. Sinister Mark glaring and cracking his knuckles threateningly when one or two variants get too close or eye HIS Reader for too long.

Sinister Mark and Reader facing main Mark. Main Mark looking absolutely heartbroken to see a version of his Reader AGAINST him. How… could that happen? Not to mention, Reader and Sinister Mark teaming up, working beautifully together, complimenting each other, antagonizing main Mark. Perhaps Reader holds his other version hostage, taunting main Mark. Or taunting variant Reader for being a superhero in this universe. He knows there’s something cruel buried in his variant’s heart. Something cold, calculating and insane, wanting to bite, but it weakly submits to main Mark. Disgustingly tamed by him. Unlike him, (Sinister) Reader was freed by his Mark. HIS Mark actually loved him enough to help him correct his path, just like how Sinister Reader did when they grew up, and he never tried to change Sinister Mark’s path. If main Mark truly loved variant Reader, then he’d accept him for who he really is, for who THEY really are.

My apologies again for going off. I love making scenarios in my head. Your plot has me so insanely intrigued to put lightly lol 💕💕💕💕💕

AHHHHHH WHAT THE FUCK 💞💞💞 this is literally the definition of a W yap session i love you so much mysterious anon <33 THE ANALYSIS IS JUST CHEF'S KISS i literally never thought people would notice how they influenced each other SIGNIFICANTLY

"it kind of feels like Reader is somewhat at fault for the way Mark turned out because if he had stopped Mark at any point of the first signs of danger, maybe Mark could've changed" YES YES YES THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR NOTICING LIKE this is a headcanon i have for sinister mark who's obsessed with his s/o AND AHHHH BRO MY JAW JUST KEPT ON DROPPING EACH ANALYSIS LIKE HOLY COW YOU CAPTURED THEM SO WELL AND I ALSO LOVE THE TAKES YOU HAVE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH when you mentioned the scenarios i literally fell in love with you I LOVE THEM LIKE

expect them to be posted in some point in time CAUSE I NEED TO WRITE ALL OF IT- i did have a passing thought about how sinister mark killed his father cause he was against mark having a guy as a partner for the sake of viltrumite genes being passed down and blah blah blah while writing the one-shot but i had forgotten about it SO THANK YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOD

i literally love everything you said, you have a big brain anon and it's so beautifully creative <333🫶🥹🫴💝💝

[emeritus-fuckers]

How about some head cannons for how the papas would propose/ how they would be at their wedding? i love your writing so much🫶

For the wedding please see this post - Nyx

Papas Proposing to their S/O

Primo

Primo has an old family ring that he's been saving for someone special. It's beautiful and as he looks at it, he thinks it could have been made for you. The ring has sentimental value to him so it's a huge sign of his love to give it to his beloved.

With the help of the Ghouls he spends the day making the conservatory look perfect. It's already romantic in there, with lots of beautiful flowers growing there. To add to this there are now fairy lights everywhere and candles burning and rose petals scattered on the floor.

There are blankets and comfy cushions brought in and a projector set up with a screen. He also has your favourite drinks and snacks ready.

He brings you in there just after night has fallen, hands over your eyes. You trust him completely even as you step forward blindly.

Then he removes them and you see what he has done with a happy gasp.

He puts your favourite film on and during it he is holding you close and stealing kisses, but you can tell he seems a little nervous.

As the credits roll he gets on one knee before you pulling the ring from his pocket. "Cara, my love, would you do me the greatest honour and be my wife? I promise to always love and care for you until I go to our Dark Lord."

You say yes and the rest of the night is spent dancing with him in the greenhouse, your own private space away from the rest of the world.

Secondo

He already gives you a lot of jewelry, so you don't originally think much about seeing a ring box somewhere in his office.

He doesn't mention it and neither do you. You just sorta forget about it after a few weeks.

Until one evening he takes you out on one of your many dates.

You don't really think much about it. It wasn't uncommon.

It's all about you.

He takes you to your favorite restaurant and all your favorite places in general... except it's just the two of you. Everywhere.

The restuarant? Just you two and the staff.

Theater? The actors perform just for the two of you.

If you prefer the cinema, then naturally you two are the only people there.

He won't explain to you why that is.

Until you two go on a walk at your favorite beach.

It's only there that he removes his sunglasses (about time, the sun was already beginning to set) and gets on his knee, proposing to you with a beautiful silver ring with two small black diamonds and one large tsavorite garnet between them.

Of course, you said yes.

Terzo

They have been fretting over this night for months.

It took a month to get the perfect ring commissioned. Several to plan the perfect night.

You were lead by Omega to a limousine and driven to the first restaurant Terzo took you to: a family run Italian restaurant.

The first song you both ever danced to was playing on the speakers. The lights were down low and extra romantic. You both had the place to yourselves.

He smiled brightly as you walked up to the table, admiring the outfit you chose. Pulling out your chair for you and stealing a kiss.

They seemed very focused on talking about their favourite memories with you. Your favourite dish was brought out along with his…though he didn’t eat much.

His was boxed up as dessert was brought out, though he asked you to close your eyes.

When you opened them? A ring box made out of your favourite dessert held the ring he had made for you. They were on one knee with tears in their eyes.

“Cara Mia…my morning star…Will you do me the honour of being mine eternally?”

Copia

Copia seems much more excitable and nervous than usual. He takes you out for the perfect meal then you two go home arm in arm.

He then sugests you play a video game, he hands you the controler and you swear he's almost shaking. "I made it for you amore. I hope you like it sì?"

You look at him with a happy confused smile on your lips, then you play the game. It's rather like the escape the ministry game except it's escaping his rooms. There are clues you have to put together and around the rooms you find photos, tickets and other little reminders of all the fun times you've had together.

When you put it all together you read the message out loud "will you marry me..." you mutter, then it hits. You turn to him and of course you agree.

"Sì?" he says so happy but still shocked. You nod then he gives you a quick but passioante kiss. "ah right I hope err this next part works" he gives you a sheepish grin then calls over one of his rats called Biscotti.

When Biscotti curls up between you two you see the ring on his collar. It's a beatiful gold ine with a pale blue diamond in the middle framed by smaller clear diamonds.

Copia careuflly places it on your finger then after Biscotti jumps out of the way, pulls you to him and kisses you again, long and slow.

Old Nihil

One day he just figured that with his age, he might as well marry the person he adores so much.

Especially since it would also help you once he would finally die.

He wasn't too original with it, though.

He was just watching you like he usually would and one day he takes out a golden ring with five white diamonds, a large one in the middle and the smaller ones on its sides, framing it nicely.

He simply asks if you'd do him the honor of becoming his spouse.

Of course, you say yes. Cuddles ensue.

From now on, he stares at you even more.

He can't get enough of his stunning fiance.

Young Nihil

It would take a lot to get this man to marry you, but then again you are the perfect one for him.

He isn't really sure how to do this, he's already brought the ring. He wanted to get you something perfect so he asked your best friend for some rough guidance. The ring he finds just so happens to be exactly like the one you dreamed of. The one you described to your best friend when you confided in them that you thought Nihil would never propose.

Neither did he, he felt sick with nerves. He loved you but he knew how useless he could be sometimes, and you were just so clearly the right one for him.

You'd been out for a few drinks together and were walking back along the river. You notice out of the corner of your eye Nihil constantly resting his hand on his jacket pocket and then relaxing again.

You just assumed it was a stash of something for later but then he stops dead and turns to you. The river glimmers with the lights of the city in the background.

"I've been wanting to say this for so long, but I don't know how so I'm just gonna..." he drops to one knee "would you marry me?" He sees your shocked expression and just panics. "Babe I love you, I know I'm not perfect and I know that..." you silence him with a kiss and then tell him that of course you'll marry him.

You've never seen Nihil so happy and when you get back to his rooms you see that he has actually planned ahead. Rose petals scattered over the floor, a bottle of your favourite drink and the room surrounded by flickering candles.

~

Papa I, IV and Young Papa Nihil written by Nyx.

Papa II and Old Papa Nihil written by Nosferatu.

Papa III written by Death.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @thecuriouss @dio-niisio @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @thatoddboy @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @strawberriiblossoms @z-xmyers @dark-angel-is-back @strawberriiblossoms @choco-meow69

[isolarya]

so i watched les mis in the west end and absolutely loved it and also here's a condensed version of my thoughts:

(also just a note, when i say a change i mean a change from the les mis live/that 2010 bootleg on yt versions because they're the only official productions im really familiar with)

(extra also if i accidentally refer to something that wasn't in either of those versions then uh probably lifted it from a school production i watched and forgot it wasn't official or something)

okay first things first everything in the show felt so alive and real, stuff was always going on in the background and honestly i really enjoyed looking for little details away from the main action (ironically enough this felt more realistic to me than the 2012 movie, though that might be down to suspension of disbelief)

the set is absolutely amazing, like i love the set pieces and how they move on and off stage and don't even get me started on that projected background it is so cool

on the most part the show hasn't really changed that much but there were a few things

katie hall as fantine <3 love her

there are a few line changes but the one i noticed was changing fantine's “come on captain” line in lovely ladies and giving it to a prostitute (ended up being “tell us, captain, did you wear your shoes”), which imo ended up making it flow a bit better

in the transition between waltz of treachery and look down, valjean picks up little cosette but the buildings start coming on earlier than in 2010, meaning he interacts with the beggars a little (this isn't really a problem for me but it might confuse the timeline for first time watchers)

(speaking of which i really don't know why the dates and places aren't shown like im pretty sure that was in the older versions as well as in the movie)

cosette’s giving bread to the beggars (and she also later checks on eponine after patron-minette has left in attack on rue plumet) and honestly love cosette being kind

there's a third ami (second if you don't count marius) in look down now?? (i think its courfeyrac?) like some of the lines that used to be enjolras or marius have been given to them now (“before we cut the fat ones down to size” for example is no longer enjs line)

i do like this enjolras (robson broad) and it helps that he is blonde here (to be fair i have a tendency to be attracted to everyone who plays enjolras literally no matter what they look like) but also jon robyns will always be my favourite enj

let me tell you when i saw “the café musain” as a sign in the background during abc cafe i nearly giggled i was so happy (there was a menu too with like six types of alcohol)

the friendship between the amis was actually just perfect

do you hear the people sing my beloved

the rue plumet gate is absolutely beautiful and the way it moves onstage is also absolutely beautiful

marius is so silly like he throws pebbles at cosettes window and goes “im doing everything all wrong” instantly when she disappears for a moment just so she can join him (i know this is a thing in 2010 but i liked it so much i had to mention it again)

one day more is literal chills

the moment i saw the woman on the curtain during the interval (no idea if it's an actual painting or not but it's quite reminiscent of liberty leading the people) i thought of femmejolras lmao

the barricade was majestic as always

okay idk when else to mention this so doing it here: imo valjean was a little forceful in the aggressive sense (i love everything else about the performance but it's just this) and i saw a bit of that when he was saving javert

courfeyrac taking the watch will never stop being hilarious. he is just standing there. staring into the darkness. for all of drink with me and bring him home.

there wasnt not much enjoltaire in drink with me unfortunately but we do get gavroche hugging r (their relationship was quite fleshed out here and i like it)

gavroches death continues to be the only thing that can still make me cry after experiencing this musical so many times

(also im just glad there's no “NOOOOOOOO” from r like in les mis live, i found that a bit much when listening)

the final battle once again broke my heart but at least enjolras and grantaire hug? for like one second over marius(?)’s injured body but I'll take it

you see gavroche actually carried into the cart (where enjolras is) here bc grantaire kinda just laid him down at the front of the stage and i like it, it hurts

there's an echo of the musains background in empty chairs and it broke my heart

the way actors can just disappear into and appear out of the background somehow is very well shown in the sewers and javert's suicide and i love it

they slowed down the beginning of javerts suicide (“who is this man what sort of devil is he” becomes “who is this man? ...what sort of devil is he?”) and this is possibly the one change i actively dislike (because it messes with how it's supposed to reflect valjean's soliloquy, which was sung at normal speed)

the amis appear earlier than in 2010 and also come in in a triangular formation (similar to the one at the end of one day more) which broke my heart more

okay i think there was an extra candle brought on turning/someone didn't come on in empty chairs bc this one guy had to pick up and extinguish two candles (he did it very well though, props to him)

anyway! when the spirits leave marius enjolras actually lingers for a few seconds and and watches marius and meets his eyes before leaving and honestly you could totally interpret that as enjolras/marius if you'd like

at the start of the epilogue valjean lights the two candlesticks the bishop gave him which is a mirror of what happened in the prologue and honestly living for this mirrored strufture

overall i really enjoyed the show and everyone in it was so good and also im in love with the set <3

(...somehow this is the condensed version of my thoughts)

[livelaughlovekny]

He declares his love for you

a/n: Suddenly felt the urge to write this and was rather rushed and short.

WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS + ANGST (Comfort at the end) I'm really bad at angst but I tried. This fic can also be read with any other characters in mind since I didn't mention any names. (rewritten version)

 He could tell. He could notice all your little signs. He knew how nervous you were deep under your cheery and assured facade. He silently observed how you carried out daily tasks and training while constantly harbouring your fear. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand where the source of your fear was, it was that he didn’t know how to comfort you. How was he, just a single fighter, supposed to rid of the flames of uncertainty of  war and death that smothered you daily?

  Your sole comfort was his presence. Hard concrete evidence that he was alive and well and here. But you knew peace wouldn’t last long when a war is approaching. So you would hold his hand and talk to him whenever you could, desperate for a sign that all would turn out well in the end. His silent love for you would be enough for now so you continued with what you hoped would always be your daily routine.

  But when the skies were dark and the gleaming stars were obscured, you couldn’t help but reveal your heart a little, “Do you believe in reincarnation and soulmates?” Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see that his head had turned to look at you, silently studying you. You knew it was dumb of you to ask such a question. He was known for being blunt and logical, such people would never be blinded by the idiocy and craziness of love and hope. And yet with the war approaching, you knew and felt your desperation soar along with your fear. You realised that your constant obsession over reincarnation and finding soulmates no matter what were your desire to forever be loved regardless of the situation.

  It was illogical and out of the blue of you really. You were never so revealing of your broken little heart during the span of your close and loving relationship. He was sure of it despite the constant blurred faces and vague voices in his head. He was sure you had never trusted someone so much. And he has never been more sure that he loved you and that when it comes to you, every thing in the world could never stop him from pleasing you, ensuring your happiness always came first. And how he wished he could find the words to express it. “No. Reincarnation and soulmates don’t exist. It’s silly of you to think so and such thoughts could lead you to your demise.” 

  His harsh and blunt words were what managed to seal away the raging fire of desperation within you. It burnt but at least now you wouldn’t know it was there. You smiled brightly at him and laughed. “You’re right, I should just focus on my training and the war,” squeezing his hands, you continued, “And I hope to see you in the light at the end of this hellish dark tunnel.” He didn’t respond or return your affectionate actions so you smiled and continued on talking on another topic. He silently listened to your rambles. If being cold would help you survive, he would just have to wait longer to express himself.

  Just like how his presence could soothe you, his absence left you absolutely devastated. His lashes fluttered gently as he struggled to finally be able to find the words he longed to tell you. Softly gripping your hands a little more firmly to get your attention, he cried as he finally managed to see what your lovely face looked like after his confession. You were his everything and now he could finally let you know. Clenching his pale hands tightly, you sobbed out words of anger and anguish towards the cruel world, determined to regain the love you lost.

  And so after many lifetimes, there you stood at the altar, once again holding hands just like the both of you did. There you stood, crying from the words your beloved uttered.  Unknowingly, he declared his love for you with the same words he did then. Except this time, all was well.

Perhaps reincarnation and soulmates didn’t exist but the both of you knew that there was no one else you could possibly meet in all your lifetimes and worlds that you would love as much as them.

  “...And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

a/n: i promise im working on my requests! Quote + Source: “And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” ― Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars (rewritten version)

[penofpenguin]

Here's a kinda dark and confusing request:

How would Adeuce, Leona, and Jamil react to their fem s/o revealing that she was an orphan who was used as a test subject for experiments before escaping to become an undercover assassin?

Absolutely!! I didn't know if you wanted Adeuce together or not so I wrote them separately. You can read it as a throuple tho, just seperated by banners :)

Content Warnings: Themes of death, Mentions of human testing, Ace being inconsiderate at first.

Their s/o is an orphan who was used as a test subject, then escaped to become an undercover assassin.

Ace x F!Reader, Deuce x F!Reader, Leona x F!Reader, Jamil x F! Reader

"Ok...so Ace...I need to tell you something."

"Huh?"

And so, you told him your crippling dark past. HE'D. ASK. SO. MANY. QUESTIONS.

"Wait wait...how did you end up in the lab?"

"What chemicals did they put in you?"

"Is this why you're so crazy in love with me?"

"How did you escape again. No, you know what, start again I lost track."

He really doesn't mean to hurt you but Ace is inconsiderate and can't read the mood.

But in the end, he'd actually understand it all. He may be a bit scared that you were an assassin but you are his s/o, and he still loves you.

Once you're done, he holds your hand and just looks away. Like hell he'll completely show you his soft side.

"You sure went through alot. Come here and maybe you'll feel better," (its his way of asking for a hug)

Once you hug him...trust me you'll feel so much better. He gives you a comforting hug and simply coddles you in his arms, letting you know you're safe.

Will he show you his almost teary and sad face in front of you? No. He won't let go of you until his tears are gone and you're feeling better.

Ace isn't the best at comfort, but he'll do his best. He'll buy you something from the canteen or do something else to make you a bit more happier.

But if it isn't comfort that you were looking for, and just wanted to let him know since you trust him enough, he'll let go of you in an instant and ask you if you're for real rn.

Here comes a bunch of butterfly kisses because he's genuinely happy you trusted him enough. (also because he thinks you're so cool) :)

he may still be a tad bit intimidated by the fact that you killed people but it's nothing compared to floyd am i right

"Hey...you're ok right? Is something on your mind?"

Blue egg boy should be focusing on his homework but he couldn't help but look at you in worry. YOU'RE HIS S/O.

So you tell him. Good decision! He listens carefully and is actually sympathetic at sight, unlike Ace.

During the test subject part, he starts crying. HE STARTS CRYING. ITS NOT EVEN HIS PAST.

But seeing his beloved s/o go through that much hurt him. He cries. YOU need to comfort him, not the opposite way 😭

But once you tell him you're an assassin, he freezes.

More than Ace, Deuce is more intimidated. He needs to let it sink in. Ofc he doesn't hate you, but he's genuinely scared. Those lovely hands helping him with homework killed people???

However, after putting himself in your shoes, he finally continues feeling deeply sorry for you. You had to survive and it's not your fault.

He kisses you and tells you he loves you no matter what. Holds you close to let you know you're protected and nobody could ever hurt you like that.......his magic history homework on the table....forgotten

Deuce starts growing this huge rage for those people who used you as a test subject. He draws them (based off of your description) with a crayon on a piece of paper and rips it apart.

until somebody comes into that room and is confused asf.

"Leona...I think I should tell you this."

snore

Oh you thought he'd be listening? Shake him and tell him it's serious. It works 👍

"You're lucky you're my queen."

We all know Leona respects women. He's listening.

Once you tell him everything, Leona just quietly nods throughout your tragic backstory. However, his tail does loosely wrap itself around you, as a sign of comfort.

Leona's mature unlike the previous two walnuts. He knows it's hard for you to tell him this. It would be hard for anyone.

He doesn't bat an eye, all the way until you're done.

Once you do finish, he pulls you into his embrace and you two lay down on the matress you were sitting on.

"I'm here. I won't let anybody harm you."

Leona is surprisingly not bad at comfort. He's one to rather give advice, but what advice can he give here apart from telling you to move on and look towards the future? (with him *wink wink*)

Leona's very intrigued by the fact that you're an undercover assassin. He sees you as a confident girlboss and he really likes that. In fact, it may as well made him like you even more.

Additionally, he actually predicted a tragic backstory, simply by your actions. It's a very 'Leona' thing to do, considering the fact that he's observant.

He reassures you multiple times that you're safer and you're in better hands now (literally).

Leona may not understand your pain, but he's very willing to help you get over it, even if he may not express it.

"Are you alright?"

Another very observant man. He noticed your expression as soon as he entered the room and it worried him.

When it comes to you, Jamil cares alot. So, once you told him to take a seat and that you trust him enough to say this, he makes sure to put every distraction away.

If Kalim getting in the middle is a concern, don't worry, he already locked Kalim in Kalim's room with a bunch of food and music.

While you're undergoing the process of telling him everything, he holds you tightly, holding you tighter at any major critical points of your past.

He listens carefully and clearly. No he doesn't care that people died because of you. You didn't choose this and you had no choice.

Once you're done, he asks you if you want to eat anything or if there's anything he can do to calm you down and cool your thoughts.

He's good at comfort, since he's done it for Kalim.

Cooks something for you, even if you insist on not troubling him. The arab urge to make sure your loved ones are fed properly 😭

Man praises you on how brave you were to deal with all that.

Jamil may seem very calm on the outside, but on the inside, he's mixed with emotions. Sadness on how you were treated, and anger in those scientists who used you as a lab rat.

Once you're out of sight, he stabs a random vegetable or the chopping board in anger.

To lighten the mood, he jokes around lightly, saying that Kalim would cry and yell "jamilll" in your situation.

Don't be so mean to Kalim, Jamil >:(

Jamil would notice some changes in your behavior towards him, seeing you two are more closer perhaps. It genuinely makes him happy that you don't see him as a shadow to Kalim.

He's glad that you told him, 1. you're his s/o and 2. he's considered more special than kalim since he knows a trusted secret kalim doesn't.

I hope this was ok!! I'm brushing up on my writing skills since it's been a while so sorry if this is weird :')

Hope you enjoyed!! Have a nice day 💖

- Madeline 🐧

[fakesimp]

The Sorcerer & The Demon

Warning !

Fluff ; Comfort ; Mentions of Physical Affection ; Mentions of Anxiety, Frustration, Desperation ; Mentions of Marking ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Okay (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ last part as I promised ! Thank you for the Reblogs and Likes (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Also decided to post this on Shu's birthday since I don't think I got the chance to write anything for his b-day (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠), anyways,

Happy Birthday my Beloved Sorcerer, Shu Yamino (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

<- Part II ||

➶◜◝➴

How long has it been?

It's dark, and cold. Again.

You should've bought the Shikigamis with you, it would've made them find you much quicker.

But what if they couldn't find you? What if they decided to let you be here? All alone inside this kidnapper's household.

Dark thoughts slowly flooding in, you were just started to live with them for like for 2 months.

They've taken care of you ever since your first meeting, it was nice. It made you feel alive again. You missed their voice now, there's not a day goes without hearing their voice. Vox's flirty remarks, Shu's identic smile.

Why do you miss them so much? You've only been with them for 2 months, it is still a short span of time. At least that's what you thought. You slowly pull your knees up to your chest, slowly hugging it as you close your eyes, silently praying for them to save you.

. . .

"It has been a week Shu, is there no sign of them yet?" The Demon asked, a week is way too long for comfort. They're getting more anxious each second pass by, Shu who Constantly not taking any rest trying to find you, sending his shikigamis out to trace your essence.

"I am trying Vox, I know it has been a week, I haven't go take a rest ever since their disappearance. I am trying my best here Vox" Shu replied, sounded a bit desperate also frustrated, Vox could only glare down at the tatami floor under him. Not because he's mad at The Sorcerer he's mad at himself not being able to go out find you.

"Then, Let me, go find them, Shu." Vox finally voiced out his suggestion, Shu looked up at him, he frowned for a moment. Before letting out a sigh, "Okay, ..I let you go out from my range, but return before the sunset tomorrow." He ordered, and then right after he said that, the magic golden chains that's wrapped around his wrists and ankles breaks into pieces. "But, if I have found their whereabouts, I am catching up to you." he continued as he look at The Demon.

Vox kneeled before Shu, summoning his katana, "I shall now take my departure, I will return soon." With that Vox disappeared, leaving only a mist behind.

Shu sighed once more as he ran his fingers through his bangs, he's not going to rest, definitely not, he's still going to find you, at least, your essence to know where you are.

. . .

One, two, three, four, .. hours have passed ever since Vox's departure, one of the Shikigamis he sent out returned in a hurry, bringing the expected good news.

"Good job, now lead Vox and I to where they are."

Shu stood up and walked away, the moment he stepped out of the room, he teleported away. Only leaving behind bits of his purple pink fire behind.

"We're going to find you."

. . .

Does your life story really ends here? Do you really have no choice? You're now chained up. Nowhere to go now. You're stuck here.

The kidnapper is not a human, it is a yokai, there's no way you can fight them, you're just a human, if you decided to fight them, you're definitely digging your own grave.

The sliding door that slowly opened up awakened you back to reality, you look up at the door. Seeing the Yokai smiling down at you, they coo as they approached you. "There There.. Do you know who you're living together with?" The Yokai whispered at you as they crouched down in front of you, "The Mysterious, yet Strongest Sorcerer. And The last Akuma blood line, now turned into the strongest Demon." They explained as they stared at you no emotions. Eyes empty, void of life.

"And Seeing you living with those two so casually, when you're just a mere human? Do you know how many Yokais out there want to be friended those two?" You shook your head as you stared back into the Yokai's dead eyes, "There are thousands, yet here you are. A mere human manage to catch their attention and live together with them even." The Yokai grabbed your face so aggressively that you let out a whine from it, "L-Let go!" You struggled as you tried to push their hands away, only for them to tighten their grip.

"Know your place Hum-"

"Hands off."

A familiar low voice rings through your ear, your eyes widen up at the voice, "V-Vox!" He let out a chuckle as he heard you calling his name. "I'm sorry little human, It took us this long to find you.." he apologized as he walk up to the Yokai and You, his golden eyes glows as he approached you.

The Yokai who was so confident now shaking in fear, facing Vox Shaking as he kneeled down to the floor, their forehead are on the floor. You look down at the Yokai in front of you, then up at Vox. His eyes staring down at the Yokai before him, and then you felt something tugging at your arm behind you.

It was the Shikigamis, it took a bit while before they manage to release you free. "Go out little human, Shu is outside waiting for you" The Demon said and glances at you, a smile slowly appeared, "Don't look back and just keep walking." He said as he saw you slowly standing up, slowly walking pass him.

Oh how shocked you were when you saw the footstep coming from the door leaded to Vox's, and the moment you stepped out, you saw Shu burning the last dead body. His face looked so gloomy. But it soon disappeared and his violet eyes glows slightly when he sees you, "You're okay-!" He said as you both walk up to each other.

The Sorcerer reach out his hand to your cheek, gently rubbing his gloved thumb along your cheek, his eyes soften up, "I'm sorry it took us a whole week for us to find you.." he whispered. He sounded so regretful, disappointed.

"I'm glad we manage to find you, seeing you still in one piece. If not.." Shu stopped he then pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging, "Oh look at you two, being all sweet and stuff without me" Vox said as he swing his katana to the side with a bit of force to let the blood off from his katana.

Vox sheathed his katana as he walk up to you and Shu, Vox's hand soon reach out to you placing his hand at the left side of your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along your cheek. "I'm glad you're okay." He sounded so soft, you blinked slowly as you look up at him. And then Vox pulled his hand away, smiling towards you "Let's go home now shall we?"

. . .

"I believe we need to do something about you.." Shu said as he frowned a bit, thinking of something.

You, Vox and Shu are in Shu's room, thinking of a way about how to prevent the uneventful things to happen in the future. "Well, There is, a way.." Shu whispered, bit his voice are a bit hesitant. "And that is?" You asked him, but the way Shu glances at Vox, making Vox frowned too.

"Are you sure it's the only way?" Vox asked, knowing what Shu meant, "Do you have any other ways?" Shu asked, they both continue discussing leaving you completely clueless at the discussion.

After awhile, both of them then looked at you, "Let us hold your hands" Shu requested as both him and Vox extended their hands to you. You tilt your head a bit confused, but you reached out both of your hands anyway.

The both of them held your hand gently, and the moment they leaned their faces close to your palms your eyes widen up. The next second you felt both of their lips on your palms, your body shivered a bit at the sensation.

After a few seconds, they both leaned away and gently rub their thumbs along your palms. They then released your hand, you look down to see what did they do.

There was nothing at first, but then slowly red markings started to appeared on your palms. You look back up at them, "Personal marking of protection for our Little human" Vox replied as he smiled at you, then the smile slowly turn into a smirk. "Or you could say that it is a marking of ownership-" he teased making your face went hot, The Demon let out a chuckle when he sees your reaction.

"But it is something to let other Yokais know, you belong to someone.. or certain, .. people" Shu said, whispering the last part as he closed his eyes, clearing out his throat before letting outa soft chuckle.

You look down on your palms once more, oh, now where did you see that mark again?

You frowned for a bit, slightly tilting your head. But then it clicked, you shot your head up and see the same exact mark on Shu and Vox's foreheads. "..no wonder it looks familiar" you said as you then look back down at your palms.

"Don't worry, little human. You're now safe. We will not let anything. Bad happened to you." ...

Ever since they put the marks on your palms, no Yokais dared to approach you, whenever they see you they'll back away from you, with a bit of intimidated look on their faces.

. . .

That was 5 years ago, your encounter with the two men have changed your life entirely, they're now your lovers. You've decided to gave up your life as a Shikigami, now living an eternal life. Together with the two.

Waking up from the sound of birds chirping at the window, you slowly opened your eyes, you tilt your head down slightly to see a glimpse of a familiar raven haired male snuggled to your chest. A soft breathing behind you, you then look over your shoulder to see Vox's face. Sleeping peacefully behind you as he draped over his arms over your waist and Shu's arms.

Oh right, last night these two were drinking.

"Shu.. Vox.. wake up.." you gently pat Shu's head and then Vox's, making the two shifted in their sleep a bit before slowly opening their eyes. Shu slightly looking up at you, kissing your collarbone, humming in Satisfaction, "Good morning.." he whispered.

Vox at the other hand started kissing your shoulders, "..Morning to both of you.." he greeted you and Shu, "Is your head okay?" You asked them both, Shu went quiet, "..It is hurting quite bad" Vox replied as he snuggled his face at your shoulder. "Indulge me will you, hm?" He said as his hands started roaming on your body under the futon. "..I could just make this headache gone, but I don't think my mind will let me register the magic" Shu said and let out a chuckle.

"Come on, let's get up, I'll cook up some soup for you two" You said as you tried to get up from the futon, only for you to be pulled back down again, Vox who was laying on the futon now are on his sides, resting his head on his palms, while Shu at the other hand are snuggling into you from the side. "..Is this how we're going to start our day?"

"Hahah, come on now, it's still early anyway.. you can cook us the soup later, love"

"Yeah.. my head is throbbing, let me at least hug you a bit longer"

Both of them didn't let you go, you're stuck in between them, you could only sigh lovingly as you rise both of your hands and gently pat their faces. "Fine, just a bit longer okay?"

"Thank you my dear, Love you"

".. Mm, Love you.."

You're so glad that you can spend the rest of your life with them, you let out a small chuckle, "Love you too"

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

There ! That is all for The Sorcerer or The Demon fic ! I hope you enjoyed this, fufu~

Also I'm sorry, this have been sitting in my drafts ever since i uploaded the second part.. so I still have that, color exaggeration.. I'm sorry

[sunaddicted]

Instead of a 2024 fic review, in honour of 2025 being my 10th year posting my writing on ao3, I thought it would be fun to do a little recap year by year of my most liked fics.

It's fascinating to see which fandoms came and went and which turned out to be there to stay!

If you're as curious as I was and maybe want to (re)discover some of my older fics, some links and stats await you under the "read more" 💛

2015

My resolution for the new year is to go back to my origins and start writing again for the Tolkien fandom!

Enthralling (Silmarillion, Angbang) is hands down one of my best fics to this day, despite the fact that my English wasn't as good as it is now! If you want to read about Mairon seducing the mightiest of the Valar, this is the best take I wrote on it!

~

2016

Sentient Reflection (DCU, Superbat) not only was the first superbat fic I wrote but it also was my first one in the DC fandom and folks, as you very well know, I've been digging this particular hole deeper and deeper with no signs of hitting rock bottom.

One sour note, is seeing Selfish Prayers (James Bond, 00q): I'm sorry to everyone who followed it and was a fan but it will never be finished 😔

~

2017

It was the year of James Bond AUs! Omega!Bond and alien!Q clearly were the favourites, with The Odd One (James Bond, 00q) - the first instalment of the omega!Bond series - being one of my most liked fics ever in the fandom.

Aside note: in 2017 started my descent into the garbage fire that was Gotham (my beloved) and I've been steadily writing for this fandom for years and none of what I think are my best Gotham fics - my best fics in general, actually - ever made it to the top 5 😱

~

2018

Superbat won hands-down that year, what can I say? Not to toot my own horn but I did write some bangers.

*peach emoji* (DCU, Superbat) is all about Bruce's ass - enough said, right?

~

2019

Superbat kept winning 😮‍💨 Whipped (DCU, Superbat) is there for you if you want to have a laugh.

~

2020

My Bond fics showed up (I did participate again in the 007 Fest after many years of absence so, that probably helped)! Alas, as the rare pair gremlin that I am, Everything They Said (DCU, Superwonderbat) came to eat - if you're in the mood for some delicious Trinity angst, all in Bruce's head, you're definitely going to enjoy the fic!

~

2021

Daniel Craig bowed out of the franchise with a movie I absolutely, 💯% despised and if your liking of Unfixable (James Bond, 00q) shows anything, is that a lot of you hated it too 👼🏽

Honourable mention to Between Us, In The Dark (WWDITS, Nandermo) - I wrote like.. 4 fics for this fandom and still one of them made it to the top 5!

~

2022

Finally, some of my Gotham fics got to the top 5! And they're not as good as some real fucking bangers I wrote hahaha

Dancing in Circles (James Bond, 00q) got top spot and with a good reason: old geezers in love, dancing circles around one another? They will pine for forever, sign me up.

~

2023

You can pry my rare pairs from my cold, dead hands 😮‍💨 Three of Cups (DCU, Superwonderbat) is the soft Trinity smut we all deserve.

~

2024

Listen, it was a bad writing year: writer's block has been kicking my ass to hell and back relentlessly.

But you know what? I still write some damn good superbat smut! Fire on Fire (DCU, Superbat) is filthy and loving and a take on alpha/alpha relationships I don't see much of!

I hope you had as much fun reading this little review as I did discovering all of this! 🤩

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

“A Far Fall From The Heights Of Heaven” A Dio Brando x Self Insert Fanfic (PART 4)

Another month had passed. It was now the holiday season, and I was missing my sister Denise. Maybe, MAYBE even my mom. A little. Dio sat at the desk, writing with a fountain pen in the dark. I would've been concerned for his eyesight, but... well, vampires see even better in the dark. I peaked over his shoulder, attempting to read his handwriting. He stopped writing and handed me the paper, noting that I was struggling to read.

"To the family of my beloved Rose..." I read his words out loud, then paused.

"Too formal?" Dio asked earnestly.

I giggled. "Just the right amount. I mean you did kidnap me. They probably think I'm dead at this point. That in itself calls for some formality."

Dio chuckled, taking the paper back from me and signing it with his overly dramatic signature. "They'll be pleased to know you're alive. Your sister.... Denise. Does she live at a separate address? Should i make another copy?"

"No, unless her plans changed, her and her husband are staying at my mom's house in the guest bedroom for the first two years of their marriage while they shop for homes and get more secure jobs. One letter to my mom's house will do." I explained.

Lord Dio nodded, then stood up, slipping the letter in an envelope. He sealed it with a carnelian signet ring he often wore on his right index finger.

"Why are you writing to my family though? Is it just to let them know I'm ok? Or... about the baby?"

Dio blushed a bit, a rare sight, but becoming less rare since I'd told him he was going to be a father. "We are visiting them. I've made arrangements. Your family does celebrate the Yuletide season?"

My eyes must've lit up at the mention of visiting them because he leaned down and tilted my chin up, inspecting my expression with amusement. "They go all out for Christmas. My mom's a christian, so thats kind of her favorite holiday." I added. "My sister Denise is very much into the presents more than the religious meaning, so we should bring her something nice! And my grandparents come over and aunts and uncles...."

Dio frowned suddenly. "That's a lot of relatives you have. What a scene it must be."

I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. I knew he hadn't experienced that growing up, at least not with his blood-relatives. I was glad I could be spending this time of the year with him. Maybe my family could show him that kind of Yule spirit that he'd never had in his childhood.

"They'll love you." I assured him.

"They'd better." He said in a snarky tone, regaining his confident demeanor. "Or your mom wont be invited over to visit her grandchildren."

I laughed nervously, noticing that gleeful look in his eyes. I prayed that all my lucky stars would keep this visit from being a catastrophy.

...............................................................................................................

The flight to Los Angeles was actually quite relaxing. I wasn't far enough into my pregnancy that flying was a problem. Dio had a private jet because public transport isn't suitable for vampires, apparently. He didn't fly it. THANK GOD. He isn't the best with electronics, being from Victorian era England, and having spent so much time in a coffin under the sea. I had taught him how to take a selfie on his phone. He was a fast learner, but not "fly a private plane" kind of fast.

We landed several times before the break of dawn and stayed at expensive hotels through the days, to avoid sunlight.

Finally we landed in Los Angeles. An SUV with tinted windows showed up at the private landing place of Dio's jet.

"You have connections in Los Angeles?" I whispered.

Dio Brando grinned. "I have connections everywhere. Now, lets get to your parents before the Christmas Eve party starts."

I yawned and slept through most of the car ride. I woke up when the car pulled in front of my mom's house in one of the nicer neighborhoods of Los Angeles, far enough from the hustle of hollywood or the stench of downtown LA.

I was wearing a green velvet dress with lots of chips of crystals on the edge of the neckline. It was expensive (vivienne westwood), and went fabulously with Dio's gold leather 1980s style jacket and fitted shirt and pants. I knew my mom would not approve of either of our outfits. I didn't care.

We strolled up to the tall front door with the beautiful transom window above it. The whole house was decorated in lights. Dio rang the doorbell, then stood back, wrapping his arm around me (for reassurance? Who knows...)

Several moments passed, then my mom opened the door. She was a tall woman, brunette, with a severe expression on her square face that got more sever upon seeing Dio and I.

"I assume you're the one who found my daughter in Egypt?" She said skeptically.

Dio nodded. "Yes, Madam." He said in the least respectful tone possible.

"So you've come to return her? Well.... I guess that's fine. Come in." She said, pursing her lips and eyeing my dress with a look of distain. I understood, though. No one likes to their missing daughter showing up in a revealing designer dress to a conservative celebration of the birth of Jesus with a guy dressed like David Bowie on his glass spider tour ready to perform.

As we walked in, Dio muttered words only audible to me. "I'm not returning anything."

I smiled, knowing this would come up later at the dinner table. I felt the eyes of all my relatives on me. My aunts, uncles, grandparents, and sister. They looked like they'd seen a ghost. I wasn't sure if I should say something. I ended up just waving meekly, and introduced Dio. "This is my husband, Dio. Dio, this is Aunt Jenna, Uncle Juan, My grandma, my grandpa, Denise, and her husband Todd."

"YOUR HUSBAND?!!!" Denise blurted out.

Dio took a seat, ignoring the shock of everyone and motioning for me to sit in his lap. I felt overwhelmed by all the attention, so I took him up on that offer, sitting on his lap and feeling a bit better now that his arms were around me. "You didn't mention the marriage in the letter, did you?" I whispered in his ear.

Dio shook his head. "I wanted to share the happy news in person. Letters are too impersonal."

I sighed. I should've expected that from Lord Dio. He loved a personal touch. Whether seeking revenge or announcing his bride, that seemed like a theme for him.

"Married, huh?" My mom scoffed. "You actually married my youngest daughter? Well, I suppose there was bound to be one man... unique enough to appreciate her." She made it very clear that "unique" was a replacement for a less gentle word. Yup. Thats my mom. She manages to be both protective over me and yet cant understand what anyone would possibly see in me for marriage. My eye began twitching with irritation and anxiety.

"She's not hard to appreciate, if you have enough brain cells... that is." Dio retorted. "Only an idiot would be blind to my Rose's beauty."

My sister snickered. My mom inhaled sharply and crossed her arms, clearly offended but not vocal enough to come up with a reply.

My uncle Todd spoke up. "Well, what's your job? Do you think you can afford to support our Rose?"

I started panicking. Money? Not a problem. Dio's occupation? BIG FUCKING PROBLEM. Being a cult leader doesn't really check the boxes for families like mine. I wracked my brain for alternative or vague enough answers that sounded legitimate. But Dio was faster.

"I'm the CEO of an organization that is highly classified in its nature. While I can't tell you the details of my job, I can say that I easily can afford to support Rose financially." Lord Dio said cooly.

"And you're from Egypt?" Aunt Jenna asked, raising a drawn-on brow.

"England, actually. London to be exact." Dio Brando said. "Is there any wine at this party?"

Denise rushed to the kitchen and came back with some expensive french wine and two glasses. She seemed the most receptive to Dio's presence. "Here you go!" She said, handing the one glass to Dio and the other to--Oh. Me.

"Uh, actually I don't drink." I said carefully.

"Huh." Denise said, slowly pulling the glass away. After a deafening few minutes of silence, Dio had finished his wine, and I was getting tired of being the center of attention.

Then Denise spoke. "So when's the due date?" 'And thats our cue' I thought, muscles tightening with stress. "Yeah.... uh, I was going to tell you guys at present opening time, but..."

My mom, catching on to the subject turned a shade of ashen grey that always was the precursor to her passing out.

"...I'm having a baby. It'll be in late fall, according to the doctors (thats the due date). Dio is the father, and we are both really excited to be parents!" I said, mustering enthusiasm in hopes it would be reciprocated. My mom passed out, but after everyone made sure she was alright I got lots of congratulations from the rest of my family.

I beamed, glad that at least this baby would be welcomed into my chaotic family. I had dreaded the thought of having to explain to my children how their grandparents, aunts, and uncles didn't want anything to do with them. This was a relief.

The rest of the night was filled with festivities. We sang carols (some of the older British ones Dio was excited to find familiar, and we feasted on delicious cranberry bread, apple cider, and roasted mushrooms by candlelight. Everyone seemed to fall in place, being supportive of our relationship (Except my mom who was resting in the master bedroom). I gave Denise a beautiful pair of designer sandals from Egypt, and everyone agrees they were definitely her style. I got lots of presents, and I loved watching Dio's expression as he saw my excitement when playing (and winning with his help) the traditional Yule games. After the games I fell asleep on the couch, cuddled in a blanket with my head in Dio's lap. I would remember this night forever.

TYSM FOR READING!!!!!

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