#I spent far more time on this than I'd care to admit

[gojonanami]

GOT YOU - SATORU GOJO

☆ summary: satoru finally found you -- and he's not going to let you go this time. (in other words, feral dub gojo had me by the throat). ☆ cw: 18+ only, dead dove, do not eat, smut, yandere!gojo, non/con (at the start), dub/con, mentions of noncon masturbation w/ clothes/in bed, manipulation, gaslighting, light choking, degradation (slut, whore), fingering (f!receiving), panty sniffing, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink, cumplay (slightly), multiple orgasms. ☆ wc: 3,132

“Got you,” a familiar voice hums in your ear, and the floor was yanked from under you - mentally and physically, because now you were pinned to the floor, looking up at the same blue eyes you had prayed you would never see again, “miss me sweetheart?” 

And he knew the answer from the wide eyes and trembling lips, but that only made him all the more eager. He leans down, pressing his lips to your soft cheek, “come on, baby, not even a hello? I’d even settle for a kiss or a smile,” he pouts, feeling your hands squirm under his grasp, as he straddled you, “trying to wave hello? Thought we were closer than that,” he hums, “don’t I deserve a warmer welcome, after all the effort I took to find you? To wait here all day for you,” 

You swallow the bile rising in your throat, harsh and bitter, as bitter as the words you wished to scream at him - but you know that would get you nowhere, “how about you let me go, and I’ll give you the welcome you deserve?” And the quaver in your voice isn’t what gives you away, he knows you all too well, and you know he won’t let you go that easy. 

“Aw baby, I'd love to believe you,” he sighs dramatically, “but after I lost you for two years, I can’t risk you slipping away again,” he noses your neck, inhaling deeply, “I had to have such patience over the last few weeks, had to make sure you hadn’t picked up on my presence, and you didn’t,” he grins, as he traces a finger down your jaw, “you know how hard it was? I spent so many mornings in your bed after you went to work, slept in it, still warm from your body, and I could smell you,” his lips curled into a smile that would have been so gorgeous, if it weren’t terrifying, “made me so needy for you baby, I had to relieve myself,” he admits with a sigh, “luckily, your hamper was full of clothes with your scent, and in your bed, it made it even easier,” 

And your stomach twisted at the thought of him touching himself in your bed — and oh god, with what clothes? 

His thumb brushes against the length of your cheek, “why did you run from me, baby?” and you’re silent — he knows why you ran. 

Satoru Gojo was perfect when he was your best friend — the perfect shoulder to cry on when one of your crushes didn’t work out, when a job prospect didn’t pan out, or a friend had hurt your feelings. What you didn’t know was he was the reason none of these crushes ever had worked out, why a job prospect that took you too far from him didn’t hire you, and why these friends who hurt your feelings and took up too much of your time had left shortly after. But to you, he was your savior, his compassion limitless, his patience infinite — and so you fell for him, just as he knew you would. It was a drunken kiss one night when he knew you were vulnerable, when he knew that your feelings for him were so close to the surface, you couldn’t help but kiss him. And kissing lead to a confession, and then the two of you were together. 

It was perfect — for a while. 

Soon, you couldn’t deal with his jealousy — over coworkers, friends, even your family, and with his controlling tendencies — he wanted you to spend every waking moment with him, he even wanted you to quit your job, to let him take care of you, and you couldn’t handle his constant suspicion — the constant questions of where you were (even when you had told him) and the accusations that came along with them. 

So you tried to break it off — tried. The first few times, Satoru sweet talked his way back into your heart — and your bed — with false promises and sweet kisses. But that soon wore old when his promises remained broken and his kisses left you with a bitter taste in your mouth. And when you tried to leave for good once — your bags packed — he had grabbed you, held you down, and stared at you with the same paralyzing look he gave you now, lips twisted into a smile you had never seen before, as he whispered the same two words he said when he greeted you now, “Got you,” and then he added, “and I’m never letting you go.” 

“Are you going to answer?” the present Satoru snaps you back to reality with a gentle hand around your throat, his thumb running over the hollow, before he kisses it, “or should I make you?” 

“Satoru, please, stop—” 

“That’s what you always say, baby,” he rolls his eyes, as if he was exasperated, “and then you always end up under me, begging for more,” and he squeezes your throat lightly, “nothing but a little slut, aren’t you?” and you gasp, as he loosens his grip again, “have you whored yourself out to any of those men at work?” and he’s grazing his teeth against your jawline, “if I leave a mark, that should keep them away, right? They’ll know you have a loving boyfriend — one who’s not afraid to claim what’s his,” and he’s smiling again, “now, tell me, have you slept with anyone else?” 

And you don’t want to answer — the answer’s no, you hadn’t, but you didn’t know whether that would make it worse or better. But his hand around your throat tells you, you don’t have a choice. 

“No, I haven’t,” you confess — and his smug grin only serves to irritate you, as he sighs far too contently, parting your legs as he moves to settle between them, “please don't—” 

“I have to check, don’t I, princess?” he murmurs, and his hand is drifting up your tight skirt, “such a slutty skirt for someone who hasn’t been sleeping around. Did you wear it just for me?” and he’s raising a brow, as his fingers roll your skirt higher, fabric straining as he did, “well, I don’t want you wearing it for anyone else, so—“ and the fabric tears apart, your legs jumping as he does, and his lips press to your knee, “there’s my perfect baby,” 

Your hands are free as his hands busy themselves with spreading your leg, inhaling your scent, as his fingers trail up your inner thighs. Your hands are trying to push him away, kicking your legs helplessly, but he’s got them under his grasp. Fingers pressing into the soft flesh a little too hard, and you know he’s going to leave bruises at some point or another.  

“C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he hums when he finds a wet spot on your underwear, “look, you’re already ruining your underwear, and I’ve barely even started  — you’ve been wanting this too,” and your hand finds his face, trying and failing to push him away, but he only licks the space between your fingers, “now be a good girl for me or I’ll make you,” the last words a growl, “and you don’t want me to do that,” but he feels you grow more damp with your slick as his fingers press against your clit through your underwear, “or maybe you do.” 

“Satoru, please don’t do this,” you’re begging, but his crystalline gaze only grows more cold, as his lips curl as he sees hot, fat tears well in your eyes, “just let me go, I won’t run. I just don’t-“ 

“C’mon now, what’s wrong? How could I ever let you go?” He coos, as he watches the first tear roll down your cheek, as he leans down and tastes it, “I need you, baby, and now that I got you,” his two fingers sneak into the elastic of your underwear, snapping it against your skin, “I’ll never let you leave my sight again,” 

You flinch from his touch, squirming underneath him, “Please, I-I’ll do anything, just don’t—“ and his thumb pressed against your lips, as his lidded eyes and smirk only draw nearer. 

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, don’t you remember? You asked for this — you made me promise to never leave you,” twisting the words you had muttered to him that drunken night, whispered after your first kiss with him and now he purred them as he bent down, breath warming your lips, as he tilted your chin up, “and I always keep my promises,” 

“Now tell me,” he smiles that same smile that had caught your heart, “tell me you want this,” he’s nibbling at your neck, and you’re melting into his touch — and he knows you’re so close to submission, “tell me, baby,” 

And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your body burning from his touch, “I want you,” 

His lips curl into a wide grin, teeth flashing. 

He kisses you, lips sliding against yours, and your lips shut even as his tongue tried to slip inside. And he bites your bottom lip, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips, and his tongue plunges in, as you moan, boneless and helpless. 

And his hands slide down your sides, teasing the hem of your shirt, “Fuck, baby, I’m addicted to you — you taste so good,” and he’s tugging your shirt over your head, as his lips attach themselves to your jaw. You whimper as his teeth draw marks along your jaw, before trailing a path down your neck, kissing the hollow of your throat, before leaning down to the swell of your breasts right above your bra. 

His fingers press against your soaked panties, the fabric doing little to prevent the full force of his touch, thick and mean fingers rubbing harsh circles against your clit, “Too fast,” you whine, back arching against the rough carpet of your living room, “too much,” your mouth falling cutely open and eyelashes fluttering, as your slick leaks through the thin material making his fingers grow sticky. 

“But your pretty cunt doesn’t agree, sweetheart,” he reaches around and unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, his teeth grazing your nipple before sucking, a grunt leaving your throat, heat blooming a trail down between your legs, “it wants me to fill you — fill you like you deserve,” and he’s pulling your panties down your thighs and then pulls them to his nose, “so fucking sweet,” and he’s pocketing them for later use — your cum not going to be the only thing staining it later. 

And he’s slipping down your body, kissing down your breasts, mouthing each nipple, before placing wet kisses between the valley of your chest, and down your stomach, pausing to slip his tongue into your bellybutton to make you gasp, as he hums against your skin. 

“Been dreaming of tasting this sweet pussy,” he sighs dreamily, as he settles between your thighs, his large hands spreading you open for him, fingers spreading your dripping folds, making you clench around nothing, before, not one, but two fingers slip inside with ease, making you choke on air, as he steadily begins to fuck you open, “you sure you haven’t whored yourself out baby, or do you just want my cock that badly?” and he tuts, “nah, can’t be. You’re too tight, so fucking gorgeous,” 

And you swallow thickly, hating the way his words make your resolve buckle — want seeping through the cracks, leaving only need behind — why were you weak for him like this? He knew you too well — knew where to touch, knew what to say to make you lose all sense, and he knew he could. 

And he would do it too. 

Soon enough, he’s pulling his digits from you, only the tips pressed inside as he spreads you, his mouth leaning do to press a sloppy kiss to your weeping cunt, “this pretty thing was made f’me, wasn’t it, princess?” and his hot tongue dragging your release up and down your pussy, before his fingers sink again for a hot minute, deeper than they had until they find that spot that has you seeing stars, making you moan louder, “Ah, this is where you’re weak, right, pretty baby?” And his mouth latches to your clit, sucking as his fingers bully your walls, “fuck, you’re so wet f’me, practically leaking all over your carpet, now what will your guests think?” he hums, a grin on his lips, “maybe after I fuck you, I’ll make you lick it all up f’me, clean up your mess,” 

And his words drive you over the edge, making you cum all over his fingers, your slick slipping onto his palm, as he pulls his fingers from you as you moan wantonly, his tongue darting out to lick and clean his fingers clean, pressing his digits into his mouth, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, baby,” and he’s parting you again with the tips of his fingers, before his tongue slips in. 

And his tongue parts your cunt, beginning to fuck you in earnest now, as his jaw aches as he does, hot and warm muscle reaching depths you didn’t know were possible. He’s licking, prodding, and sucking, and your soft grunts and moans only made him even harder, straining in his pants, “g’nna make me cum in my pants baby from your taste and sounds alone,” and you’re already so close, too close — your first orgasm making you so sensitive, but right as you give that telltale clench,  he’s pulling away a moment, to watch your chest rise and fall with half lidded eyes glazed over with lust, pretty, pretty cunt quivering from the lack of sensation, and a long whine leaving your lips. 

“Want you to cum on my cock this time, baby, not in my mouth,” he says, lips and chin glossy with your slick, “we have time for that later,” and now you’re growing desparate as he just watches you, cleaning up your release from his mouth, tongue darting out to lick what he could, before using the back of his hand to wipe away what he couldn’t. 

And the plea leaves your mouth before you realize it, “Please,” you swallow thickly, your words weak and broken, “Satoru, please,” 

“Please, what?” he teases, as he pulls his shirt cover his head, your eyes raking over his abs and lingering on the v-line as his sweatpants rode low, doing very little to hide the large bulge that your eyes were glued to, “want me to split you open with my cock?” and he wanted nothing more, as he slips his pants and boxers off with ease, his dick nearly slapping against his stomach as he did, a pearly white bead of pre-cum resting on the flushed red tip, his hand grasping it, as he pumped it slowly to spread his release, “gonna have to use your words baby, don’t care if they’ve been fucked out of that little brain of yours,” 

You pout so beautifully, bottom lip quivering, all of your resistance and fear eroded away by lust and need, “I want you, need you to fuck me, please, Toru,” you squirm, thighs parting for him, “need you inside me, please,” 

It doesn’t take more than a second before the tip of his dick is pressed to your folds, “Look at you now, baby — you were begging me to leave, and now you’re begging for this cock,” and you’re moaning as he feeds your insides his dick, inch by inch, “fuck, practically swallowing me up — want to be fucked that bad baby?” And finally he’s inside you, fully seated in your sweet cunt, “or maybe, you want me to fuck a baby into you? Want me to breed this pretty pussy, sweetheart? Make me a daddy?”

And he’s starts to fuck you, hips snapping against yours — and he was unrelenting in his pace, cock breaching and bullying your insides, brushing against your sweet spot again and again. Your teeth bared down on your bottom lip, trying to hold back your noises, but he can’t have that, can he? 

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “Wanna hear every pretty sound, sweetheart, wanna hear you scream my name as I fuck you,” and he begins to fuck you even harder, hips slapping against you, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching from his cock, your sweet moans of his names, and lust glazed over gaze was almost too much for him. 

But it only made him more desperate to fuck you harder, until all you could feel was him between your legs for the next month, as he grabbed your legs and placed them over his shoulders, making himself sink even deeper, deeper, deeper. 

And it was too much, too much for you, as you came around his cock for the first time in two years, and god, it was the most beautiful thing Satoru had seen. Your mouth parted in ecstasy as your release slicked up his cock, as he fucked your cum back into you, as your princess cunt clamped down on him hard, again and again.

You were moaning his name again and again, the only word you knew now, mouth parted open as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Yeah, baby, cum on my cock, pretty pussy was made just for that. Gonna make you cum again and again, until you can’t live without my cock between your legs. You’d like that, huh? Make you walk around with my cum inside you, even when I get you pregnant, I’ll fuck you again and again, until you’re leaking with me.” 

And you’re just moaning, nodding and broken, lost to the pleasure, as he grits his teeth, cock twitching at the sight before him, watching his dick slip in and out of you, a white ring of your release around the base of his cock. 

It wasn’t much longer, until he notched his cock as deep as he could, holding himself as he gave only shallow thrusts, his hot release pumping into you, continuing to fuck it deeper, “gotta make sure it sticks, don’t we, sweetheart” he murmurs with a smile, as he captures your lips in a kiss, cock still stuffed inside of you, “can’t let you get away from me now. It’d be much harder with a baby, won’t it?” 

And he’s easing himself out, groaning as he watches your mixed releases beginning to trickle out as the tip of his cock slaps against your weeping cunt. He pools the cum on his fingers, pushing it back in, making you flinch and moan, utterly blissed out, eyes fluttering as you gazed up at him. 

He only smiles the same way he always did, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you.” 

☆ a/n: i usually don't write things like this (i.e. non/con), but the dub feral gojo lines lived rent free in my head, until i wrote this (they still do, it's fine) I also don't post fics this often, but I am writing a lot of fics.

☆ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @miss-nightray

[phossiii]

｡𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter nine

synopsis: phosphorus proposes an arrangement for when you both get back to belle reve. and then you both get busy in the royal broom closet.

cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, violence, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus, you both obviously do it

"This should help," you warned from your spot on the floor, igniting your hand with hellflame. "I don't know how resistant your powers make you to fire, but either way it might sting a bit."

As you paused a moment, Phosphorus took a few breaths, gathering himself before slowly moving his hand away from his gash, allowing you to carefully grab his arm and hold it in front of you.

Once you were sure he was ready, you pressed a flaming palm against his wound, forcing a loud, painful groan to rip from his throat.

"Jesus fucking Christ, (y/n)!"

"I know, I know. But it's gonna hurt even more if you keep squirming like that..."

Angry, his gaze turned to Weasel, who sat across the hallway with a few thankful guards, happily accepting their scratches and head-pats of gratitude.

"Un-fucking-believable," he scoffed, under his breath. "He gets the fish girl killed, tears apart my arm, and somehow he's the freaking hero?!"

"You want the knights to pet you, Phosphorus?" the Bride turned to him, sharply, annoyed.

"Well... yes," he responded, simply. "If there hands didn't burn off? Maybe. You know what it's like not being touched for fifteen years?"

Hearing the slight pain in his voice, your heart couldn't help but tug.

That night you two spent together... was that the first time in fifteen years that he'd touched a woman?

Although the thought was innately disheartening, you couldn't help the faint swell of pride and possessiveness that awoke in your veins.

As far as you knew, you were the only woman in the world he could be with without horribly maiming her in some way.

The only one he could kiss.

The only one he could hold.

The only one he could feel.

That fact brought you more satisfaction than you cared to admit.

It was selfish... it was sadistic... but was such a goddamn relief.

"Yes... I do."

And with that, the Bride stood from her seat, starting off toward the hallway.

"Where are you going?" Phosphorus asked, raising a brow.

"I'll be back," she answered, darkly, before turning the corner.

"There," you sighed, extinguishing your flame and removing your palm to reveal his arm, now healed. "Good as new."

Phosphorus huffed in amusement, surprised, as he flexed his hand, the pain completely gone along with any sign of the wound ever being there.

"That's a neat trick you got there," he commended, genuinely. "Can't even tell where it was."

"Yeah, well, enjoy it. That's your only freebie," you joked, halfheartedly. "Next time'll cost you."

"Oh, yeah?" he cocked a brow, his pointer and his thumb hooking on your chin and pulling you closer, until your mouth was just a hair away from his. "How much?"

"Alex..." you warned, eyes flicking toward the guards, who, luckily, were still fawning over Weasel. "Not here."

"Don't you think I deserve a little reward for my chivalry? I protected your body when you went all catatonic."

"You sat next to me while I was asleep. I'd hardly call that chivalry."

"I put a couple leaves under your head as a pillow."

"My fist has a direct route to your dick at this angle. You wanna keep talking or do what I asked?"

With an annoyed groan, he dropped your chin, leaning back in his seat and allowing you to stand up.

But before you could even rise to your full height, he shot up from his seat, tossing you over his shoulder and starting off down the hall in one fluid motion.

"What the—?! Alex! Put me down! What the fuck are you doing?!" you exclaimed, face burning with embarrassment.

"You said not here. So we're going somewhere private."

Turning the corner, he came up on a broom closet and immediately yanked it open, tossing you in before joining you and shutting the door behind himself.

Though... not all the way.

"Who the fuck do you think you a—?!"

Quickly, Phosphorus's hand clasped over your mouth, forcing you to pipe down.

"For once in your life, shut that pretty, little mouth and listen."

His tone lit up your body like a live-wire, reminding you so vividly of the events of that night.

God, did you have a thing for bossy men?

He paused for a moment, waiting for some sort of retort; but when he realized you weren't going to say anything, he smirked, his hand slowly dropping from your face.

"Good girl," he nodded, smoothly, his hand coming to rest on the wall behind you. "Now, there are some things we have to discuss before we're shipped off back to Bell Reve."

Intrigued, you remained quiet, swallowing thickly at his close proximity, the heat of his radiation rolling over you in waves within the confined space.

"I don't know what this is, and, frankly, I don't care to figure it out," Phosphorus started, plainly, his eyes trailing up and down your body with a look of carnal need. "But I like it... and I like you. So I propose a deal."

You raised a brow, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Go on..."

"You become mine," he stated. "My girl, my gal, my woman, I don't give a shit what you wanna call it. But you're mine. And I get to touch you and hold you and kiss you whenever I like... in exchange for mind-blowing sex."

...

You almost laughed in his face.

"Yours?" you scoffed, amused. "What on earth gave you the insinuation that I'd ever want to be yours?"

"Don't play dumb, doll face. I've seen the way you look at me."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like you wanna eat me."

"More like strangle you."

"If that's what gets you off..."

"My God, you're really serious about this."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"What do you gain from me being your prison girlfriend?"

"Not prison girlfriend. You'd still be mine when we're on missions."

"This is insane."

"Is it that hard to believe I enjoy your company?" Phosphorus asked, stepping closer, forcing your back to press against the wall as his hand slid down your side, resting on your hip. "Among... other things?"

"Alex..." you warned once again, suddenly breathless.

"How about I give you a trial run?"

"Wha—oh!"

His hands gripped your ass cheeks, allowing him to hoist you up and further press you into the wall.

His lips were on yours in an instant, kissing you impatiently as he groaned into your mouth, already overwhelmed by how good you felt in his grasp.

"Alex—"

"These are gone," he whispered, using his powers to burn the button off your pants.

You'd survived the past week or so without intimacy perfectly fine—save for a few urges or intrusive thoughts— but hearing the want, hearing the need, in Phosphorus's voice reminded you why you had sex with him in the first place.

Your eyes rolled back as he started panting in your ear, yanking off your shorts and tucking your panties in his pocket before carefully sliding his two fingers into your mouth.

"Suck."

And to his severe arousal, you complied, staring directly into his eyes as you made a show out of dragging your tongue over his irradiated middle finger.

'Fucking Christ...'

If only he had enough patience to have those pretty lips around his cock...

Before he could get too distracted, he quickly pulled them out and plunged them inside your wet cunt, attaching his lips to your neck in the meanwhile.

"A-Alex..." you moaned, allowing your eyes to fall shut and your leg to wrap around him, his free hand holding up your thigh to keep you steady.

Through your pleasure, you tried to tell him to shut the door completely, as anyone walking by could've easily heard you both fooling around in the closet.

But you were already fucked out.

And even if he could understand you, you were sure he didn't care.

It wasn't long before that familiar coil in your stomach began to tighten, effortlessly reminding your body of what it had forgot to miss.

"M'cummin'!"

"Cum for me."

That husky tone was all it took for you to make a mess on his fingers.

But he knew he didn't have time to bask.

The Bride would be back any moment, and when she was, you both would have to join her on that damned plane back to prison.

Not wasting any time, he quickly sucked your juices off his fingers before sending his free hand to undo his belt, allowing him to tug his cock free from the confines of his pants.

As he began to shift you into position, you tightly gripped his shoulders, letting out a more quiet moan at his obvious display of strength.

'Jesus Christ, how much time does he spend in the yard?'

Phosphorus tugged your top down, freeing your breasts for his kissing and biting pleasure.

God, how he missed your tits.

"Alex... fuck," you whined as he felt his cock glide its way in, making you clench with anticipation.

He still held you by your ass, and you still wrapped your arms around his neck as he proceeded to drive into you at a manic pace.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Phosphorus panted and cursed with each pump, only forcing you to moan louder.

Your nails dragged harshly against his back, your tail squirming with pleasure, the pads of your fingertips burning hotter and hotter with each passing second.

If he was in his right mind, he would've realized that you were actually hurting him quite a bit, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All he needed was to be as close to and as deep inside of you as physically possible.

"Fuck, Alex!" you gasped when he hit a particular spongy spot in your core, your grip tightening around the nape of his neck. "Right there! God, right there!"

Anybody remotely nearby could hear you both by the bottles of cleaning supplies falling, the few books crashing down, and the exchange of heavy breathing and cursing.

Hell, it was miracle you two hadn't been caught.

Your eyes screwed shut once again, every cell in your body feeling as if it was going to burst at any moment.

"Cum with me, okay?" Phosphorus sounded as if he was pleading, possibly even begging. "Cum with me."

You neck was wet with his saliva and littered with hickeys, which would no doubt raise suspicion.

But—as is the common theme with the skeleton—he didn't care.

All he wanted to do... was feel you.

He needed to feel you.

"Cummin', Alex!"

"Good girl—ah—good... fucking girl!"

Phosphorus slammed his last thrust in you with a flourish, the two of you reaching your climax at the exact same time.

In a bout of ferality, you sank your teeth into his neck, the man letting out a hungered groan at the feeling of your fangs digging into his skin.

The two of you rode out your highs together smoothly, soft pants and curses echoing through the small space as Phosphorus lazily thrusted into you, before finally pulling out.

Carefully, he placed you back down on the ground, quickly tucking his dick back in his pants before meeting your gaze.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment.

A long, silent moment... before you were on each other once again.

Only this time, it was more intimate.

As you threw your arms around his neck, he pulled you in by your waist, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as your lips met each other's once again in a breath-stealing kiss.

But, rather than filled with ferocity and need, it was surprisingly tender.

Within it, everything seemed to fade away.

The castle.

The commandos.

Your impending incarceration.

The whole world seemed to disappear, leaving you two alone with nothing but uncertainty and an indescribable feeling.

All in the middle of a broom closet.

When you two pulled apart, your eyes scanned over his face, a small smile cracking onto your lips as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"You sold me," you panted, convinced.

"Had no doubt I would," he grinned, cockily. "If I'm being honest, I think I have a magic dick."

"Of course you do."

With a roll of your eyes, you turned around, the two of you quickly dressing yourselves before exiting the disheveled closet and re-entering the foyer.

At the exact same time as the Bride.

"Let's go," she ordered, power-walking toward the exit. "Best make it fast."

The Weasel quickly shot up from his seat, joining the four of you on your way out.

Though... not without exchanging a few glares with Phosphorus.

"Take it easy, you two," you warned, shifting to walk in between them, as to prevent any further turmoil.

"I need to ask you some questions before you g—"

The Bride quickly grabbed the older man by his face, slamming him into the ground and out of the way before stepping over his body, the rest of you doing the same.

When you all reached the outside, and began walking toward the sunset, the Bride couldn't help but let a few tears slip at the lost of her close friend, Nina.

Moving closer, you rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she was quick to wipe the tears away.

"Y'know..." she started, cracking a halfhearted grin as her eyes flicked over your hair and neck. "You and Jack Skellington have really got to learn to keep it in your pants."

Your face burned with embarrassment, you hands quickly snapping up to fix your hair and cover your hickeys.

"Kinda hard with this piece of ass," Phosphorus chuckled, unabashedly, as he smacked your ass. "Right, babe?"

"Please... stop talking."

[johnhwatsonblog]

Alright… Here goes all or nothing, I suppose...

Sherlock. Sherlock. @artofdeductionbysholmes

Do you remember the first time we sat here? I was… nervous. Nervous about you. Nervous about being with you, about whether I could keep up without making a fool of myself, about whether we’d even last this long. Nervous about… everything, really. And here I am... Nervous again. Though this time, for a slightly different reason.

Fifteen years ago, I sensed that you were throwing me a lifeline I desperately needed, and I was right. You gave my life purpose by pulling me into the madness, and I guess that says more about me than about you… But I never really had a choice after that. Nor did I want a different choice. I was hooked.

I didn’t realize back then how much I’d come to need you. How much I’d want to be part of the chaos, the mysteries, the danger… and of you. How much I’d want to be part of us.

I thought I was just tagging along for the ride, just a guy trying to fill the gap in your life. If anything, I had no idea how much you would fill mine. I had no idea what I was stepping into. You weren’t the distraction I thought you were—you were the reason I started breathing again, living again. And I didn’t dare admit that to myself until it was almost too late.

Sherlock, I’ve spent fifteen years beside you, in the middle of all the chaos, through moments when I thought I'd never see you again. I’ve spent fifteen years not knowing how to handle being properly us. But every single time, I couldn’t walk away. I didn’t want to walk away. Because it was always you, Sherlock. You. It was always the way you made me see the world differently, the way you needed me even when you didn’t know how to show it. And even when we almost lost everything… I still needed you. And I think… I know I always will.

Perhaps I shouldn’t bring up Mary right now, but it’s important that you understand this:

I loved her, yes. She was everything I needed at a time when I was looking for stability, for peace, for someone to build a life with. And for a while, that’s exactly what I thought I wanted. She gave me the family I didn’t know I wanted, the kind of love that was steady and real. But, as much as I loved her, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as you, Sherlock.

You and I—what we have—it’s, I don’t care how cliché this must sound, it’s different. It’s not just a love built on quiet moments or the comfort of shared days. It’s something that shakes me to my core. Every time I’m with you, I feel like the ground beneath me is shifting. It’s unpredictable, thrilling. It’s essential.

There’s a force between us that pulls me in, whether I’m ready for it or not. I never expected to need you as much as I do, but that’s the truth of it. You make me see the world in ways I never could have imagined before you walked into my life.

With you, I’ve never felt more alive, more like I’m part of something far greater than myself. You’ve turned my world upside down, in a way I never thought I needed, and I know I can’t live without it.

The love I have for you, Sherlock… that’s the one that truly shakes the foundations of who I am. It’s the kind of love that changes everything. And I think I’ve always known, deep down, that it was never really a choice. Not for me.

You’ve been the constant in my life. Through everything we’ve been through, you’ve been the one thing I can rely on. Even when you were… away… I sought you out and found you. You were—and are—ingrained in my very existence. And I’ve realized something crucial in the last year: I will never want it any other way. Nothing matters to me more than this. I just want you.

And I know I’ve never been good at expressing this, but Sherlock… I’m asking you now, in this place, of all places—where it all started, where we began as just partners—to be. To be officially more than just partners for the rest of our lives. I'm ready to make that vow.

I promise you I will never take you for granted. That I will never hurt you as I have before. That I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I am worthy of being in your life.

Here I am, hoping that you allow me at least this convention.

I guess what I’m asking is….

[bammthebandit]

Hallway Crush!Ino who is slumped over an overcrowded desk in his dorm after class. He'd rushed back to his dorm building in hopes of getting a few more minutes of sleep before heading off to his internship. When he initially applied for it, he was over the moon and absolutely ecstatic. But as of late, it's been more of a burden than anything.

Hallway Crush!Ino who has spent the last two weeks trying to juggle studying for his midterms, classes that required mandatory attendance, and working eight-hour shifts for his internship. Safe to assume it's taken a toll on both his body and his grades. He'd hardly studied for his statistics midterm, which was arguably the most difficult out of the four he would be taking that month. It was all stressing him out more than he'd like to admit.

Hallway Crush!Ino who slowly rises from his desk and makes his way to the bathroom. He should be getting ready to head out about now, but his phone vibrates in his pocket before he can switch the restroom light on. "New Message"

Hallway Crush!Ino who scratches the back of his neck in confusion before clicking the notification

“Hey Ino, this is ୨୧ from your statistics class. I think I have something that belongs to you”

[image attachment]

Hallway Crush!Ino who is even more confused now, quickly switches on the light of his bathroom and looks in the mirror. He really had left his beanie. How could he not notice? The familiar weight that was usually atop his head was nowhere to be found. He's quick to open his phone and type a reply.

"hey ୨୧ , yeah that is mine

i appreciate you for grabbing it for me,

is there any way you'd be down to meet up now so i can grab it from you?"

Hallway Crush!Ino who hurriedly gets dressed for his internship. If he's lucky you'll reply fast enough for him to grab his beanie before he has to clock in. Although he doubts you'd have the time. Maybe he could just see if you'd be available tomorrow. Or maybe he should just wait until class on Tues-

*ding*

Hallway Crush!Ino whose phone goes off before he can even finish that thought.

"yeah ofc!

I figured you'd want it back asap

just lmk where you'd like to meet up so you can grab it :)"

Hallway Crsuh!Ino who thinks you might just be an angel for that offer. Breathing a sigh of relief, he puts his shoes on and grabs his keys.

"you're a life saver

could you meet me outside of the welding building in 10?"

"bet

I'm not far from there so I'll head there now

see u soon"

Hallway Crush!Ino who arrives 10 minutes later just as he said he would and finds you sitting on one of the benches in front of the welding building. You stand from your seat as he approaches and offer a small smile.

"And here I thought you'd be the type to take care of his valuables."

He chuckles a bit at that. "I swear I normally am, I've just been out of it lately"

You offer him a reassuring smile as you hand the beanie over. "I'm sorry to hear that, just remember to take care of yourself okay. If there's anything else I can do just let me know. "

He takes the beanie with a relieved sigh. "I appreciate that...I really do. But since you offered, do uh- do you think you'd be able to study with me a bit this weekend? I know we're in statistics together so I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."

The shock must have shown on your face because he's immediately scrambling after. He looks down at his watch in embarrassment. "I mean you can say no if you want! I promise I'm not trying to use you for your notes or anything! I've just been so busy that I haven't been able to properly study like I usually do, and you look like you know what's going on in class so I figured you know maybe we could work together since I have a bit of free time this weekend. But if you don't want to that's completely-"

"No no it's not that! I'm sorry I'm making you late, aren't I? But I'd love to! It's just that we haven't really spoken much before, so I guess I was just shocked. Sorry if that was weird but I swear I'm down." At this point, you're just rambling. But he really had caught you off guard, for a second you couldn't decipher if this was one of your daydreams or reality.

Hallway Crush!Ino who gets the biggest toothy smile on his face after you agree. "Well alright then, and don't worry about it, I have at least another 5 minutes to spare. And hey, maybe we can grab lunch before too. You know as a thank you for my beanie." He's doing it again, scratching at the hair of his nape, only this time he doesn't really look stressed. In fact, he seems more than happy, so much so that you have a big smile of your own on your face.

"I'd love that."

Hallway Crush!Ino who cheeses as he puts his beanie back on. Finally in its rightful place atop his head covering his soft shaggy hair. "Great...well um I have to go now. But I'll text you later for details yeah?"

Hallway Crush!Ino who is unknowingly biting his lip as he smiles and who is unknowingly driving you absolutely insane. A hand on his nape and the other waving at you as he begins to walk away. "yeah of course" you call out as you walk away yourself.

Hallway Crush!Ino who finally disappears inside the welding building, an absolute giddy mess. Who is actually already 5 minutes late now, but he couldn't let you know that now could he?

Part one

Authors Note:

There's no way people actually liked the first oneeee🥹

Thank you all so much for the looovveee, I have literally been jumping for joy since I posted the first one! Again all of this is done without any proper preparation, so this is just me winging it! Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, and I apologize if the format is weird. I’m still trying to get the hang of this.

If you guys have any ideas as to what you wanna see from this please feel free to lmkkkk, I like hearing everyone else lise interpretations of this!

INO NATION RIISSSEEEE

anyways love love looovveeee

-bammbo 🧸

[ambrosiustheunknown]

Character Analysis - Severus Snape

No because I feel like people don't truly understand Severus Snape's character when they say that he's nothing but an asshole and Death Eater who bullies children and did horrible things.

Did he do horrible things? Yeah. And did he bully children? Yeah. Was he an asshole? Yeah. Did his death and guilt relieve him of blame and responsibility? No.

But he was more than just an asshole. He had his reasons, no matter how shitty they may be. And even though his reasons are shitty, I think he at least deserves some consideration. Why? He made most of his shitty decisions as a child. An abused, discriminated against child. Think of it like this:

Meets Lily after ten years of abuse at the hands of his muggle father

At 11, is separated from Lily and is put into a notoriously discriminated-against house

Is (unfairly) antagonized by James Potter and the Marauders (while I do admit that yes, he probably gave back as good as he got, he couldn't have done that until at least his 2nd year because he was raised without magic. he also did nothing to cause the bullying in the first place [as far as I know, correct me if wrong] )

Was bullied and abused up until 5th (?) year

Is humiliated and sexually harassed (because yes, threatening to take off a peer's pants is sexual harassment in my opinion) and lashes out at Lily during this time of intense humiliation and is promptly abandoned by her

Is almost murdered by Sirius Black who receives no consequences

Goes on to join the Death Eaters at after years of being an abused outcast and stereotyped as nothing but a slimy Death Eater

Is then forced to become the potions professor at Hogwarts

1-2 years later, he turns traitor against Voldemort (around 18-19)

The only person he's ever had care for him in his entire life dies

He's only 19-20 when Voldemort is vanquished. I'd say that it's safe to assume that he never got help/support/closure surrounding anything he went through. As far as I'm aware, there's not a single person within the entire series who is shown to support Snape, which leads me to believe that no one ever told him to get help after the first war, and considering his life up until then, he most likely didn't know to get help. He spent the rest of his life doing a job he hated and was forced into, was a spy, and was split between two powerful and dangerous masters.

With all this in mind, I'm unashamedly a Snape supporter (not an apologist, there's a difference). He was an ass who did horrible things but there's more to him then that. The students he taught didn't deserve his ire, and he did and watched horrible things be done, but he's so much more than a Death Eater, and his background and potential to be more than a spy is so interesting to look at and think about.

Edit: A reblogger has mentioned that in the books, James say's he'll remove Snape's pants. In England, 'pants' refers to underwear, and that we never actually find out if James did that. This definitely sexual harassment.

[hikidoll]

꒷‧₊˚ 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 ! (fem reader implied, fluff!!!)

your typically cold friend surprises you with a last minute christmas present. turns out he pays attention to you more than you thought..

megumi fushiguro | katsuki bakugo | tobio kageyama, kei tsukishima | & any of your favs!

this was stupid. he shouldn’t be here. of course, you weren't expecting him. it wasn’t like you guys were close, not like that. what was he even doing here? he wasn’t good at this kind of thing... being thoughtful, doing sweet gestures. it felt foreign, uncomfortable. but when he thought about your face lighting up, that little laugh you always tried to hide behind your hand, his resolve hardened. he huffed, tugging his hood tighter against the wind as he approached your apartment door. "she better fuckin' be here.." he muttered to himself, fumbling with a gift wrapped box in his hands. he stared down at the box, a flurry of second thoughts rushing into his mind. "are we even close enough for gifts?" "what if" this and "what if" that. his mind always got the best of him in these kinds of moments. it was the same reason he hadn't mustered up the courage to ask you out yet. he’d spent more time than he’d like to admit hunting it down, scouring shops and questioning every choice. was this the right one? would she even care? was this… enough? he hated how much he cared about getting it right. it wasn’t like he was trying to make an impression or anything. at least, that’s what he told himself. the small box felt heavier in his hands than it should’ve. he turned it over idly, the edges of the neatly folded paper rough against his calloused fingers. it was stupid, really—how nervous he felt about something as simple as giving you a gift. just knock, he told himself. it’s not a big deal. you’re just giving her a gift.

but it was a big deal. at least, it felt that way. he’d spent far too long debating whether or not to even buy the damn thing. and then he’d spent even longer pacing the aisle of the store, trying to decide if the wrapping paper mattered. he hesitated in the doorway, unsure of how to even start. finally, he gathered the courage to knock on your apartment door, holding the gift box behind him.

the second you opened the door, he felt sick to his stomach. fuck. it was something only looking at you could do to him. it affected him more than he'd ever admit. "hey! what're you doin' here?" you said with a smile, leaning on the doorway. you had no clue how dangerous your smile was to him. immediately, he felt his cheeks heat up. he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "i was uh, just in the area, y'know? thought i'd drop something off." he muttered, his voice coming out rougher than he intended.

you blinked, glancing at the box in his hand, then back at him. “really?” your voice was soft, uncertain, and it hit him harder than he expected. why did you sound so.. surprised?

he nodded, his throat suddenly dry. “yeah.” he muttered, his usual sharpness barely masking the nerves buzzing under his skin. you nodded, stepping aside for him to come into your apartment. "well, come in! it's freezing out here.." you said, gesturing for him to follow you inside. he nodded casually, hesitantly stepping inside your warm, comfortable apartment. of course, the way you decorated your apartment was no surprise to him. it was so.. uniquely you. of course, you guys had been friends for years, but for some reason he'd never been to your apartment. he'd dropped you off a few times when you needed a ride, but truthfully, you guys hadn't spent much time alone together. this all felt so new.. but not unwelcome. you plopped down casually on your sofa, gesturing for him to sit beside you, and hesitantly, he did. "you know, you didn't have to get me anything-" you said, your voice littered with the faintest bit of nervousness, your gaze flickering between him and the neatly wrapped box. it was your favorite color, of course. he felt embarrassed that he remembered such small details. like the color of your eyes, or the way the freckles and moles were arranged on your face would make the prettiest constellation in the sky. “just open it,” he interrupted, his tone a bit harsher than he intended. he immediately winced, softening his voice. “i mean… it’s nothing big. just something you mentioned.” he shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "well, would you rather me go return it?" he teased. the way you giggled and shook your head in response made him feel off balance. "no, of course not! i love gifts." you responded with a giddy smile, hands fidgeting anxiously in your lap. he nodded, holding held the box out awkwardly, his palms suddenly feeling clammy. your fingers brushed his as you took the box, and he tried not to think too much about how warm your touch was. he shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. he watched you hesitate for a moment, like you weren't sure if you should open it right now or wait until later. he noted the way you handled it so delicately, carefully pulling away at the wrapping paper. your excited giggle cut through the tension in the apartment as you tore away the wrapping paper around the box. then, you gasped. "oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, revealing an adorable hello-kitty stuffie, a limited edition one as well. then, regardless of all his overthinking and anxiety, seeing your reaction was the best gift he had gotten. your eyes lifted to meet his, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe. but he nodded, pretending like this wasn’t the best decision he’d made in a long time. "i'm guessing you like it?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest. "i love it!" you say, clutching the stuffie close to your heart. but the smile on your face faltered for a moment, "i feel really bad now.." you mutter, staring down at the plushie in your hands with a stomach full of guilt. "i wish i had gotten you something, but i-" quickly, he interrupted, "don't even start that shit. its fine." he reassured you with a small, rare smile. and even better, it was.. genuine. "just glad you liked it, i guess." he added with a nonchalant shrug. he could've sworn your eyes were glowing with pure happiness, and thought about how it would feel to get lost in them, before he mentally berated himself for being such a sappy idiot. he shrugged, trying to act indifferent even as heat crept up his neck. “it’s not a big deal.”

“it is to me,” you replied, your voice so full of sincerity that made him feel like the ground was shifting beneath him “i love it,” you said, your voice steady now, but warm in a way he wasn’t used to hearing. “thank you. really.” you clutched the stuffed animal in your arms with a small, satisfied smile. he nodded, not trusting himself to speak. you were too close, your gratitude too raw, and he wasn’t sure what to do with the way it made him feel. he expected you to tease him the way you usually did.

but what he didn’t expect was for you to set the plushie down on the small table beside you both and lean forward, and wrap your arms around him in a hug. your arms were warm, and your head rested lightly against his chest. he sat there, stiff as a board, his brain short-circuiting.

he could count the number of hugs he’d gotten in his life on one hand, and this was by far the most unexpected. slowly, awkwardly, he brought his arms up and rested them lightly around you, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. “y-yeah,” he muttered, his voice coming out way too soft. “it’s nothing.” he blinked, his mind racing. what was happening? why was he suddenly feeling like he’d been punched in the gut?

but it wasn’t nothing. not at all. as you pulled back, your smile brighter than he’d ever seen it, he felt something shift inside him. he’d thought the fluttering in his chest was just nerves or embarrassment. and as you held the plushie close, your fingers brushing over its beaded eyes, he realized something he hadn’t before.

this wasn’t just about the gift. it was about you. about the way you deserved things like this—things that made you smile, things that made you feel seen.

and then it finally hit him. god damn, he was helplessly in love with you.

and judging by the way you clutched the hello kitty plush like it was the most precious thing in the world, he was in deeper trouble than he’d ever imagined. for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like such an idiot for caring.

shit. how the hell did this happen?

just a silly little thang i procured when i was bored. haven't wrote anything in a while, so i hope its okay! did not proof read- too lazy i fear... enjoy :3 ©hikidoll inc. do not copy.

[utilitycaster]

I think a crucial element to understanding why Ashton is so receptive to Bells Hells is that they very clearly stayed with him. Fearne was furious, which is different than apathy, and left after being encouraged to cool down elsewhere, Laudna's reasons for leaving were far more tied to the risk of Delilah trying to absorb the shard, and Imogen and FCG stayed and talked to them. Anger is very different from abandonment, especially this anger, which was complicated and about many things, but in part about Ashton's own self-destructive tendencies.

I think there are three specific moments that make it particularly clear, although everyone (save Orym, who will presumably have his chance next episode) has their moment:

The first is Ashton admitting to Imogen "I'd have killed me" were the situation reversed, to which Imogen tells them the party spent too much effort keeping them alive to undo it. It's both true regarding their current feelings (ie, angry but still present) and true that Bells Hells could have bailed during that long minute and Ashton would have been left for dead permanently this time. It also is a call-back to how Ashton used to talk about the Nobodies leaving them: "I'd have done the same." Imogen rejects that; she is not doing what Ashton would.

The second is FCG and Ashton's conversation alone after Imogen leaves. FCG tells Ashton the party cares, but it seems that Ashton does not, leading Ashton to admit that he cares about the others, but not himself, and that his feelings about FCG's lack of self-regard in part came from the fact that he has the same problem.

The third is Chetney telling Ashton to leave. It's harsh. It also puts the burden of movement on Ashton. Chetney isn't telling the rest of Bells Hells to run and leave Ashton; he's telling Ashton that it's his choice, through word and action, to either be a part of the party or not. In the past, Ashton was never granted a choice. They were simply left behind. When Ashton chooses to stay and comes down to breakfast following morning, Chetney immediately validates this decision.

The theme is clear throughout: Ashton was the one who came closest to cutting and running this time, not the other way around, and they know it.

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 5 - Plans Laid in Darkness

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader/OC, No Y/N, Politicking, Hail Kastovia!, We are learning to communicate, Soap is a good boy, canon typical violence, Konig (derogatory)

~5.2k words - MDNI

"Hello, princess," Kate says. She's using that dry, guarded tone that she used to use, before you got comfortable with each other. It's like you're strangers again, and not women that spent the past six years living under the same roof. It makes your heart ache— She's family. Really your only family, even if you have no shared blood.

She's wearing a dark cloak with embroidery of dark, nearly invisible ravens and bright stars around the hood and hem, a midwinter gift from you and her wife, that you spent weeks working on. You can see the top edge of the thick woolen socks that you knit her over the edge of her boots. You'd mended and reinforced the pockets on her trousers countless times. Kate was always hard on her clothes. You used to tease her about it when she'd come to you, sheepishly bearing a torn out pocket or a ripped seam. She always made up some silly story about how it had happened, just to make you laugh.

But she stands in front of you as the Watcher, the spymaster, and not as your Aunt Katie, and you don't care for it one bit.

She tenses when you stride across the room to her, but relaxes when you throw your arms around her tightly. "I missed you," you say softly. "I wish you'd told me what was going on."

"I know, honey. I thought I'd have more time. John promised not to interfere with you so long as you didn't interfere with him or his men. He's never broken his word before."

"He still hasn't," you admit. "It was my fault. A bird flew up and startled sir Garrick's horse, and I chased after. He was sleeping by the road, and…" you trail off, realizing what had really happened. It was too easy to forget that Kyle had a knack for illusion. He'd spooked the horse on purpose. "Well, he tricked me, and I fell for it."

Kate huffed out a laugh. "I should have been more careful with my phrasing. John is far too good at twisting things to his advantage."

You hum in agreement, turning towards the door when you hear a sharp knock. It opens before you can say anything, but it's just Farah, and not one of the men.

"Commander Karim," Kate says. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, Watcher," Farah responds, nodding politely. "I owe you a favour for the intel one of your ravens gave me a few weeks ago. Saved my men from walking into an ambush."

"No favour necessary. You actually helped me clean up a mess that same day." Kate smiles wolfishly. "My raven caught his mark when they turned tail to run."

Farah nods. “Then it seems we help each other.”

The two of them talk while you get ready, and flank you as you make your way down to the appropriate parlour, although Kate gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and heads off down the hall rather than follow you into the room like Farah does.

That’s always been her way. You’re sure you’ll see her later.

The Kastovian ambassador sits in a a chair by the window, dressed in a dark red suit. He smiles and stands whn you enter the room, Kate and Farah a step behind you. “Princess!” he says warmly, hands outstretched. “You are more radiant than I imagined you would be. It is not fair that John has been hiding you away all this time.” He pulls you close when he takes your hands, and kisses you on each cheek, closer to your mouth than is necessary.

“It was my choice to remain out of sight. I feared my presence would be a distraction from John’s work. I worried hat I would be as well loved as my father.” You smile, and sit next do John. “It seemed I did not need to fear so.”

“Of course not! Your father was a wicked man. You were not the one waging wars, your majesty. You were just a girl,” Nikolai continues. “And no you are a beautiful woman. Your kind heart is evident.”

“Beauty has little to do with kindness.”

Nikolai grins. “No. Or I would be a much better man than I am.” He settles back in his chair and picks up his wine glass. He raises it, looking at you over the rim, dark eyes glimmering. “To beauty and kindness.”

John hands you a wine glass, and you raise it in response. “To good sense and diplomacy.”

John hums next to you, pleased with how you’re handling the ambassador, by your guess. He levels an unimpressed look at Nikolai. “Are you satisfied?”

“No, it’s much too soon. I will let you know when I am satisfied, your lordship. It will not be until I speak to her majesty alone.” His mismatch of your titles is clearly intentional, meant to rile John up, make him commit a mistake. “But I do hope to be fed first, or I will try to eat you up, majesty. I’m afraid I have a weakness for beautiful women such as you.”

You steal a glance at Ghost, at the war mask, the visage of a skull glaring at the ambassador. You prefer the blank fencers mask, but you can see his eyes like this, deep brown, pale lashes catching the light. Farah stands next to him, almost comically small in comparison. By the forward tilt of the mask, Ghost isn’t pleased with the ambassadors tone, and Farah’s disdain is clear. Both of them have their hands braced on their belts. It was probably a good idea to have them remove their swords before entering the room, although you suspect that each of them is still armed to the teeth.

The man standing behnd Nikolai’s chair is similarly braced. He’s huge, taller even than Ghost, though not quite as broad, and masked as well, with something that looks like an executioner’s hood. The cold gleam of his eyes makes you shudder, until a wet nose pushes under your palm. You relax a bit, petting your hand over Soap’s fuzzy head, glad for the reassurance.

“I trust your journey was an easy on,” you say, changing the subject from how edible you look. “You arrived quite quickly.”

“Luckily, I was already on my way. Your cousin sends his regards, majesty. He is disappointed that he cannot be here himself.” Nikolai eyes Soap suspiciously, but says nothing.

“If he were so concerned, why did he never inquire after her?” John asks. “So many years with no mention.”

“Perhaps he was concerned that a mention of her would have you expanding your search,” Nikolai suggested. “He could not not be certain that she could be safe with you either.”

“As you can see, I’m quite safe, thank you,” you say pleasantly. “John allowed me time in the country to recover from the stress of the war. It was very kind of him.” You smile at John, warning him to behave himself. It would do no one any good for him to scrap with the ambassador. “It was good for me.”

“Clearly. You were too thin before. Listless. And now you’re vibrant and lovely. It is heartening to see.” Nikolai continued to smile, not once dropping his friendly mask. “Of course, you were little more than a child when last we met. Perhaps you do not remember me.”

Did you recall? Of course you remembered being trotted out during the many failed bids for peace between your homeland and Kastovia. Nikolai wasn’t just any ambassador, he was a prince, one of the younger ones. Not likely to ever take the Kastovian throne himself, unless his brother and grown-up nieces and nephews were all to perish. Not likely, unless foul play was involved. It was understandable, why he was so interested in securing an alliance through marriage to you, even though during those talks you had only been fifteen, and still too young to marry. It would have been a long engagement, but peace fell apart long before you turned eighteen, blessedly, or you would have been married to him, probably with a few children by now.

Nikolai seemed a pleasant enough sort of man, but there was something calculating in his eyes, like he was mentally tallying what everyone in the room was worth to him. You’re not sure you’d care for a husband who kept such a close eye on his ledgers.

“I remember.” You give Soap another scratch behind the ears, glad to have the comforting weight of his big head on your knee. “Strange to think of what could have been.”

“If I’d known you would grow into such a beauty, I would have worked harder to negotiate peace.” Nikolai looks at John as he says that, but his eyes flicker back to you quickly. “I suspect you will make a pretty bride.”

“I certainly hope so,” you say blithely. “Now, why don’t we move to the dining room? I’m sure you’re very hungry, after so much travel.”

“Starving,” he says.

Farah makes a scoffing noise behind you, but manages not to say whatever scalding thing comes to mind. You make a mental note to thank her for her restraint later. She told you already that she has no love for Kastovians, but she’s kept a cool head. Certainly a cooler head than John, who looks ruffled.

Both he and Nikolai offer you an arm to escort you to the dining room, but you tuck your hand into the crook of Nikolai’s arm, since he’s the guest. John’s frown deepens, but it’s not your job to manage a grown man’s emotional state. He’s a king, and it’s up to him to act like it.

There’s a certain tesnion in the air over dinner, summering under the light conversation. Nikolai takes a perverse sort of delight in saying things that are polite on the surface, and insulting if you think about them for more than a minute, although he directs all of these hidden barbs at John. To you he’s entirely charming, his dark eyes laughing whenever John leans in to speak to you quietly. It would be funny to watch the two of them have their polite little battle, if you were not the object that they both seemed to covet.

John’s possessive little displays are nothing if not an annoyance. You look forward to leaving again, and going home, back to your cozy room in Kate’s house, back to your chickens and your village and your routines. You’ll miss Kyle and Ghost and Johnny, but you’re sure they’ll visit if you ask. Ghost might even go back to his double life as a blacksmith, and you can pretend you never sussed him out, and actually talk to him, rather than just exchange the odd glance now and again. John will be much less free to make little visits to unimportant former princesses, and probably busy finding himself a suitable wife to mother his children and secure his bloodline.

Finally, dinner ends without anyone losing their temper, and the others retreat to the green parlour as you escort Nikolai to the next room. Farah and Soap stay by your side, although Nikolai’s own guard is dismissed.

“I had hoped to speak with you privately,” Nikolai says, raising his eyebrows at Farah pointedly.

“Commander Karim is my personal guard, as well as my friend. She would soon know anything you had to say to me regardless, so if you cannot say what you wish to in front of her, consider holding your tongue.” You sit, and Soap settles himself at your feet, the very picture of a loyal hound. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“You should take me as your husband. Forget whatever deals you have made with John. Forget that idiot cousin of yours. I know wha it means to rule. You would not have to worry about any more wars with my people, or anything at all. I would gladly lift all burdens from your lovely shoulders.” He makes his bid standing before you, keeping a safe distance, wary of Soap’s sharp teeth. “I would treat you well, your majesty. Like you deserve.”

You sit back in the chair, eyes half lidded, giving no emotion away, although you almost wish to laugh at the audacity. “Is that all?” you ask mildly.

“Would you like more?” he asks. “Favourable trade agreements, perhaps, or land? My own lands lay just across the border, I could cede them to you. Name your desire, my lady, and you can have it.”

“I desire nothing that you could give me, except to deliver my sincere wishes that my dear cousin sets aside his ambition for the throne. John has made a fine king for these past few years, and I hope he continues to be for many more.” You smile, all polite restraint still. “Is there anything else that you wish to say?”

Nikolai looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly, his calculation of you changing somewhat. He’s not pleased by your refusal to even entertain his offer, but not surprised either. “Such loyalty, despite what he did to your father. How has he earned such devotion?”

“By being a good man, and improving the lot of my people. There is nothing else I need from him.”

Nikolai nods. “I see.”

“I hope you’ll excuse me, I’d like to speak with Commander Karim. I believe the others have returned to the green parlour, if you’d like to rejoin them.”

He doesn’t balk at the dismissal either, just gives a shallow bow and leaves.

“That was the right response,” Farah says approvingly. “If he though there was even a chance to gain your hand he would spend the rest of the evening behaving very badly. It would not look good if John or Ghost hits him.”

Soap gets up from his spot on the floor and trots behind a chair, the bone crunching sound of his transition filling the room for a moment. “Sweetpea,” he says, his fingers gripping the upholstery nervously. “I think there’s somethin’ you should know.”

“What it it?” you ask.

He swallows hard, blue eyes darting between you and the door. “John intends to marry ye tomorrow. He figured if he manuevered things just so hat you wouldn’t be able to refuse him, but I think you ought tae know.”

Farah goes extremely still, her eyebrows snapping together with an almost audible click. “He didn’t tell you?”

You drop your head into your hands, trying to control the spike of anger. “Oh, I’m going to kill him,” you say. “I am going to murder that man.”

“I will assist,” Farah promises.

“I am sorry I didnae say somethin’ earlier,” Johnny says, shoulders raised defensively, as though he still expects that you might shout at him. “I shoulda. S’just— It’s Price. He’s been good tae me. But yer so sweet, and you deserved tae know.” He looks a bit green from betraying his friend’s trust, but relieved too. It must have been weighing heavy on his mind.

You stand, and walk over to him, cupping his face gently between your palms. “Thank you for telling me.” Impulsively, you press a kiss to his mouth, not expecting the enthusiastic response. He pulls you closer, arms sliding around your back, his tongue lapping across your lips. He kisses messily, without much finesse, but it’ sweet, in it’s own way, how excited he is about it.

Your hands skirt down the tops of his arms, finding the raised edges of scarring you hadn’t noticed under all his freckles. Bumpy, textured skin, like there was sand trapped under the surface. In his wolf form he has bluish grey patches here, and running down his spine and legs. Did the pattern follow the scarring? Or was it just coincidence?

“No kiss for me?” Farah asks. You can hear the smirk in her voice even before you release Johnny and turn around.

“Would you like a kiss, Farah?” you ask.

“Maybe,” she says non-commitally. “Later, perhaps. Do you want to rejoin the others?”

You shake your head. “No, would you mind letting John know that I’m turning in early? Since tomorrow will be such a busy day.”

Farah levels another one of her impressive frowns at you. “I don’t want to leave you alone while those barbarians are here.”

“Johnny will come with me. And he’ll stat with me tonight?” You glance at him for confirmation. “So you can take some time for yourself, Farah. He’ll keep me safe.”

“He had better. I’ll see you in the morning, princess.” She gives Johnny a stern look before she nods to you and leaves the room.

It takes a moment for Johnny to shift back into a wolf, but you step out into the hallway as soon as he does, resting a hand on his head as he trots beside you, tail wagging. You’re quiet, not just because your companion can’t speak, but because you have a lot to mull over. The initial anger has subsided into resignation. You should have known that Price would hear only I’ll support you in any way you need and not your refusal to become his wife. He really is the most infuriating man you’ve ever met in your life.

You are disappointed in Kyle and Ghost as well, but you suspect that Kyle had been about to tell you when the ambassador arrived and John called you down.

The two of them are waiting outside your room, however, with sober, contrite expressions. Well, Kyle, anyway, but here’s an unease to Ghost’s posture that communicates that he feels much the same way, his shoulders tense and head hung low, like a dog waiting for a beating.

“Johnny told me,” you say, because there can be no other reason for their guilt.

The twin exhales of breath almost make you laugh. “We should’ve told you right off,” Ghost says. “Didn’t want to go against John, but—”

“It’s alright, I understand.” And you do, if you’re being honest. It would be foolish to expect them to take your side right away. That they are now still means something. “Do you think I should go through with it?”

Soap wuffs, and Kyle and Ghost look at each other.

“Yeah, we do,” Kyle says.

You regard them for a long moment, and then open your door. “Come in, please.” They follow, and you close the door behind them. The dress sits on a form by your closet, dark green and beautifl. The cream embroidery makes sense now, you can feel the prickle of magic lingering on the weave. You dispell it with a thought, and the illusion melts away, leaving a white gown behind.

“That’s that then.” You sit on th edge of the bed with a sigh. Soap hops up and curls around your back, and Kyle and Ghost settle on each side of you. “I’m going to be queen after all.”

“You’ll be good at it,” Ghost assures you. “You’re smart.”

“And kind. Well reasoned. You care about people, understand them better than John does,” Kyle continues, taking one of your hands, tracing a finger over your knuckles idly. “I think the people need you. Should’ve heard how excited Rosie was about you comin’ back.”

“I haven’t earned that,” you protest. “I haven’t done anything foranyone yet. I have no idea how—” You stop yourself short. Of course you have an idea of what to do. The entirety of your childhood was spent dedicated to learning everything there was to know about being queen. It’s been your destiny before you understood what fate meant.

Everything you learned has just been shoved aside, locked away. It’s time to remember, and accept your role. It’s all a part of you, the good and the bad.

Even the crown.

“Thank you for telling me, even if it does come a little late.” You squeeze Kyle’s hand and pat Ghost on the knee. “I do hope you’ll be more forthright in the future.”

“We’ll ‘ave t’be,” Ghost says. “Can’t be lyin’ to the queen now can we? Not even if John tells us to.”

“Certainly not,” Kyle agrees. “Now, do you want your hair braided for tomorrow? I’m sorry— About yesterday, I—”

“Consider it forgiven. Just don’t do it again!”

You do accept the help with your braids, focusing on sectioning and braiding thr front while Kyle works from the back, summoning a pair of hands that mirror his movements neatly. Ghost and Johnny sit close, watching with curious eyes.

It takes a while— You’re not sure how long— and you’re yawning by the time you’re through. Soap has his head leaned on Ghost’s thigh, half asleep. Ghost hasn’t moved since he settled there, still as a statue. You thank Kyle for his help. You’re not sure that your curls would be in good shape if you left them loose another night.

You stop Ghost when he says goodnight, tugging at his sleeve before he opens the door to leave. “I’ve kissed Kyle and Johnny,” you admit. “And John. Would you like a kiss too? It only seems fair, since I won’t be able to do it again when I’m married.”

“Close your eyes for me,” he says, and you do immediately, your face tipped upwards. You hear the shift of fabric, and then his fingers brush your jaw, so gently, holding you still as he leans in.

His kiss is almost unbearably sweet, soft and gentle, no push to deepen the kiss until you pitch up onto your toes to press closer, hands gripping his shirt. You can feel the scrape of stubble on your chin, smell smoke and cedar on his skin. There’s a slight dip on his upper lip, a scar that hadn’t been visible at dinner the first night, with you seated on his other side. You hum, touching the spot with your tongue. He growls in response, crushing you closer for just a moment before he lets you go.

You wait until he says you can open your eyes before you do. The skull mask lets you see his eyes properly, and there’s fondness shining out from them as he looks at you.

“Goodnight, princess,” he says softly.

You catch his arm again. “Will you walk me down the aisle?” you ask. “It’s fine if you’d rather not, but you’ve been my guardian for a long time. Kate’s the only other person who would do, and she hates being in the centre of things.”

His eyes crease with a smile. “I’d be honoured.”

Soap stays underfoot while you get ready for bed, until you shoo him out of the bathroom so you can change into your nightgown. He whines outside the door, which makes you laugh. “Just a moment, you silly boy,” you scold him. “I’m not letting you see me undressed again.”

He sighs audibly, and there’s a thump as he flops onto the floor.

The two of you settle into bed shortly after, and you fall asleep quickly, arms curled around his neck.

A few hours later, the door to the balcony opens, so quietly that you might not have fully noticed it if not for the way Soap tenses, silently wiggling free of your arms.You squint into the darkness, but there’s not enough light for you to see anything.

“I’m going to turn on the light,” you breathe, barely putting any power behind the words, trusting Soap’s canine ears to pick up what you say. “Close your eyes so it doesn’t blind you. In one, two three!” You reach over and tap the lamp, screwing your eyes shut against the sudden glare as you tip yourself off the bed and onto the floor.

You hear muffled swearing, and peek over the edge of the bed as Soap launches himself at Nikolai’s giant, masked bodyguard, teeth bared in a terrible snarl.

You scramble up and run for the door. “John!” you shout, and then turn to help Soap, although you’re no fighter. You couldn’t just leave him to deal with the man alone.

Soap is growling fiercely, his teeth sunk deep into the man’s arm, but the giant has a knife in his other hand, already slick with blood. Soap’s fur is matted down around his ribs, stained rusty red.

You grab the giant’s other arm and hold on tight, digging in your heels to keep him from stabbing Soap again. He shakes him loose instead, throwing him by the scruff into the bookcase, breaking shelves with a splintery crash. He jerks his arm to shake you loose as well, and backhands you, sending you stumbling backward.

You catch a glimpse of blood-shot, malicious blue eyes through the holes in the giant’s mask, and then a huge hand grips you by the throat, cutting off your air. He raises the knife.

A dark shape hurtles into the room, and the giant lets you go with a pained shout. You land hard, breathless, and John grabs you, hauling you up and putting his broad body between you and the grisly scene that is surely unfolding behind him. The sound of a knife cutting into flesh, over and over and over, the giant begging for mercy until he fell silent.

It’s awful. Your stomach churns, but you manage to not throw up.

“Sweetpea, are you alright?” John asks, pulling your attention back to him, gripping your shoulders just a little too hard when you try to look around him again.

“I’m fine— Soap’s hurt.” You look for him and find him right where he’d been thrown, although he’s staggering up onto his paws now, blue eyes unfocused, blood still oozing from the wounds on his side. Shaking loose from John, you rush to his side, throwing your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his fur. He leans into you, somehow managing to lick your ear.

John kneels down beside you and places a hand on Soap’s flank. Blue light flares between his palm and Soap’s injury. “There we go. Good boy,” he says softly, patting Soap on the head as he stood up again. “Kept our girl safe.”

There’s a commotion in the hallway now, guards and servants and Kyle pushing their way into the room. You sneak a glance at Ghost. There’s a slash through his shirt-sleeve, and a cut dripping blood onto the floor, but he seems unhurt otherwise. The giant however— You take one look at the spreading pool of blood and the mess of blood and bone and press your face back into Soap’s ruff, shaking.

John picks you up and carries you across the hall to his study so that the guards can get into your room to deal with the body. You look at Ghost over John’s shoulder. “You’re hurt. Let John heal you.”

He shakes his head. “Waste of magic. I’ll be fine.”

“Will you let me clean it up at least?” you ask. “I don’t want it to get infected.”

He huffs. “Fine.”

John sets you down, but your legs don’t feel steady yet. You lean into him for support, glad for the warm, solid bulk of him. He holds you until you stop shaking, barking orders over your head.

You press your face into John’s shirt when Soap shifts back into Johnny, the sound of bone crunching and tendons snapping a bit too similar to the sound of Ghost turning the giant into a bloody mess. There’s some kerfuffle as someone brings tea and supplies for you to clean Ghost’s wound, and John finally lets you go so you can get to work.

You focus on washing away the blood and dabbing stinging antiseptic onto the cut as Knight Captain Keller steps into the study to report. “We’ve had the ambassador confined to his quarters,” he says. “You may question him at your leisure. Gaz is laying wards on the room to keep him from working some nasty Kastovian magics. Should I arrange extra security for the ceremony tomorrow? Or do you think it best to postpone.”

“Extra security. Thank you, captain. Did the giant survive?”

Alex snorts, and then glances at you, his expression a hair guilty. “Um, no sir. I doubt his own mother would recognize him now.”

Ghost flexes his hands. His knuckles are bloody, so you clean up that blood too. Once the door shuts behind the knight captain, he takes his shirt off to make it easier for you to bandage his arm. You try to keep your eyes from wandering over all his pale, marred skin. There’s so many scars that you can hardly bear to think of how much violence he’s endured.

“I don’t think Nikolai was behind this,” you say, glancing at John as he sits heavily in his chair, running a hand over his beard tiredly. “He has nothing to gain by killing me. I don’t believe he’s any great champion of my cousin’s.”

“Why do you say that?” John asks.

“He proposed to me earlier, and called Phillip an idiot— And with lands along the border, he would put his own territory at risk if there is another war. It’s more likely that the assassin was paid directly by my dear cousin.” You wind a length of clean linen around Ghost’s bicep, tying it tight.

“He proposed?” John asked, focusing on the wrong part of your words.

“Yes, but—”

“What did you say?”

You consider telling him that you know what he plans, but there’s something satisfying about making him sweat a little bit. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

“I beg to differ. I’d like to know all the same.”

You meet his eyes evenly. “I turned him down.”

John takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly, looking relieved. “Good.”

Johnny huffs, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He looks worn out, the toll of shifting back and forth and his injury leaving him exhausted. He’s eaten everything on the plate someone brought up, leaving only crumbs.

You’re tired too. The shakes have finally subsided, leaving you with nothing, a candle burnt down to sputtering wax. “I’d like to go back to bed. I don’t suppose I can go back to my own room yet?”

John shakes his head. “It’ll take a little while to clean up. You can sleep in my bed. I’ll be up a while yet, I’ll find somewhere else for the night.”

You nod, and glance at Johnny. “Will you come with me?”

He nods, gulping down the last of his cup of tea. “Aye. Keep ye safe if anyone else tries anythin’ foolish.” He folds himself back into wolf shape while you say goodnight to John and Ghost.

They bid you goodnight as well, although there is some envy in their eyes as they watch you slip through the door into John’s room, Soap by your side.

Soap sniffs around the new space suspiciously, and only settles into the bed beside you once he’s satisfied that there’s nothing amiss, laying his head across your stomach, ears perked up, flicking around at every little noise. You tap the lamp and close your eyes, comforted by his vigilance and warm weight and the pillow that smells like John, warm spice and tobacco smoke.

You try not to think about anything else.

I'm so sorry this took 9 million years to post, I wrote it by hand in July and just did not type it. But the good news is that Chapter 6 is also written and I am dedicated to getting it done so expect that before the end of the month. I love you all, thank you so much for your patience.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[koolades-world]

do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; satan

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Satan, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"I know for certain the answer is yes. I'd find you no matter what." He responded.

...

You'd been enjoying your morning so far. You'd actually gotten up early, and decided to make the most of it. You didn't rush through your routine, and you even had time to complete all of the aesthetic things you normally didn't have time for. Somehow, you still had time leftover before your first class of the day even though it had felt like you'd spent forever awake already. Is that what early bird felt like on a daily basis?

You decided to spent your time at a cafe on campus that normally had a line out the door. Since you were awake early, you got there around the time they opened, and you had what was easily the best breakfast and coffee you'd had all semester. You never tell her, but it rivaled that of your mother's. Too bad it was way too expensive to justify buying on a daily basis. Since you had easily the best table in the entire establishment, you decided to savor it, and do some work there despite having a previous plan.

A sudden realization hit you like bricks as you caught sight of the time on your laptop. You'd lost track of time and at this rate, you were going to be late to Philosophy again. Being late once was bound to happen. While twice was a little questionable, the person in question deserved the benefit of the doubt. But thrice? You were sure this was going to count against you this time.

The reason you'd have to give would be even more embarrassing. Losing track of time in a cafe on campus while be 'aesthetic' is easily the worst excuse you felt you'd ever have to give. At least your alarm failing to go off, or getting a flat bike tire isn't your fault (or so, at least you tried to argue). But losing track of time? It was something you did more often than you'd like to admit, and wasn't going to get you out of a penalty.

While trying your best not to spill your coffee, you threw everything into your bag, and dashed out the door. Class started in ten minutes, but the walk usually took you fifteen. If you sped walked/ran the entire way, you should get there on time. You flew through campus, glancing at your watch, watching the seconds tick by. You let out a sigh of relief when you reached your destination two minutes before class was due to begin. You walked into the room, not really caring what you looked like. To your horror, half the class looked back at you to the sound of the door opening. Class had already begun.

According to the clock, you were on time, but for whatever reason, the professor that never started early, had today. At least she didn't single you out. With a mental sigh, you shuffled into the room, and took the only open seat. It was close to the end of the row, so thankfully you didn't have to scoot past so many people, but unfortunately it was in the front row. To your left sat a girl with her stationaries surrounding her like a cult leader might surrounded themselves with followers. She sent you a side glare when you accidently nudged one of them. To your right sat a boy with nothing on the table in front of him but a notebook and pen. He paid you no mind.

You broke out your own supplies and tuned into the lecture as best as you could. Philosophy had never been your strong suit, but you needed that credit. You took notes as best as you could, knowing later you'd be reviewing them in confusion. When it came time to do group work that you dreaded so much, you realized that somehow, in the time you weren't there, everyone else had already figured out their new groups.

In this class, the professor would assign group for the unit for you to discuss the various prompts she'd assign that not only functioned as a way to learn, but a way to count as attendance. It would be perfect if not for one thing: the groups were random. You'd been fortunate enough the first time to get an engaged group of people who'd taken their time to help you understand the material. You wouldn't be so lucky every time around, though.

After asking the professor, you discovered the boy to your right was the only present member of your group at the moment. "So, it's just you and me then?" You retook your seat.

"Seems like it." He took the prompt paper, and extended it to you to sign your name on.

"I'm Mc. I'm going to warn you now, I'm not the best in this class. I pay attention, and I do all the work. It just doesn't click up here." You tapped a finger to your forehead.

"That's alright. I don't mind helping you. I understand everything." While this felt like a subtle flex at first, you were just grateful he was nice, and was willing to help you out. "I'm Satan." He extended a hand out to you to shake. It caught you by surprise, but you did it anyways as to not seem rude. You took this chance to get a better look at him. His hair was blond, and seemed effortlessly styled. You'd already seen him card his hands through it a couple times, and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't ridiculously attractive. His eyes met your, and you were greeted with a vibrant green that perfectly matched the sweater vest he was wearing. His glasses perfectly suited his face, and the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards upon you taking his hand did something to you.

"I appreciate it." Not only was he beautiful, it seemed like he was nothing short of a genius the way he easily explained everything to you despite having so many interjections and questions. He was your angel.

By the time the professor came around to pick who'd be sharing their explanation for the prompt, you felt as if you wouldn't be floundering if you were picked. You weren't, but you could thank your group member for your new self confidence. When the explanation was given, he nudged you and smiled. It was something you hadn't been expecting, just like before, but you smiled back. Class was over shortly after that, and you packed up your things.

"How'd you feel about that?" Satan asked you.

"Pretty good! The best I've felt all semester easily. Thank you." You never looked forward to this class, but now, at least you had a reason to. Being able to understand the content was a game changer, and the fact that Satan was a model didn't hurt.

"It was no problem. I'm just glad to help." The two of you went silent for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Are you busy after this?" You blanked for a moment, struggling to process what he had asked.

"Uh, no. I have one more class today, but that's not until this afternoon." You didn't know what was more unbelievable: that you were struggling to remember something as basic as your schedule, or that Satan seemed to be asking you out. Normally, you'd be more apprehensive to advances that rapid, but something about him felt right. Something about him drew you in, and you could tell you were having the same effect on him.

"Great! Do you want to get something to eat, possibly?" He sounded a bit shy, which was a side of him you hadn't seen yet.

"That sounds perfect. Where did you have in mind?"

"I was hoping you'd have an idea." It seemed as if he hadn't planned on getting that far.

"Just follow me." You stood up. Before you could get going, you caught a glance at his lock screen. It was an adorable car perched onto of an open textbook. "Is that your cat?" You pointed.

"Yes! This is Belphie the Second, but I always call him Bel, because Belphie is my brother's name." He gushed about the gray kitty that was staring up into the camera.

With excitement, you turned on your phone towards him to show him a picture of your own cat in a costume. From the way he entire demeanor melted from having an air of seriousness to something much more mushy let you know you'd absolutely made the right choice.

The room was mostly empty at that point. You were the last to enter, and it seems like you'd be the last to leave as well. At least you wouldn't be leaving alone this time.

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 3

Promise

You spent the next several weeks training with the Boy Wonder. You hate to admit it but your fighting skills have improved greatly, still scrappier than the boy training you, but improved none the less.

This change didn't go unrecognized. Joker had taken note of your new found skills, specifically their familiarity.

"Jinx!"

It wasn't often Joker sought you out. Either he was there or he wasn't. Did you do something wrong?

"That's me!"

"I need to talk to you."

"Ya already are!"

You tossed the device you'd been tinkering with aside and turned to face the man. His infamous grin was as present as ever.

"That I am. But I'd like to discuss something. It has to do with those fancy moves of your's." Uh oh. "Now, just where did you learn to do that?"

Busted.

You smiled nervously with a shrug. "Hah. About that. I may be working on a little side project."

"Oh?"

"It involves a little birdy."

"Ohhh!" Joker chuckled lowly. "And how is our little Boy Blunder these days?"

"Naive. He thinks teaching me to fight makes us friends or something. Think he's trying to convert me."

"Haha! The apple doesn't fall far it'd seem. I've seen that boy fight. Violent. Not like the first one at all. If anything you should convert him."

You cast him a knowing glance. "Pff. If only. But he has-" You rolled your eyes. "- morals."

"The Bat's doing no doubt." Joker paused. "It occurs to me, the man trained Robin but I never really did the same for you."

"That's not true. You gave me my name! And-" You opened your arms wide. "- all the machinery I could ask for!"

He stroked his chin. "That I did. But I think it's time I gave you a very special gift. Something me and your mother share."

You stared into the swirling green chemicals below. The fumes were giving you a headache already.

"This is where I became who I am. The Joker. Clown Prince of Crime!" The man gave a theatrical wave of his hand. "It's also where Harley pledged her loyalty to me. And now..." He turned to you, a hand offered. "It's where you will make me a promise."

"What?"

"You've been my protege for seven years now, give or take, and you've just officially started fighting Batsy." You took ahold of his hand. He pulled you to the edge of the catwalk. A vat of Ace Chemicals sat beneath you. "So I think it's time you were baptized the same as us. One big, happy family."

His smile was twisted. You could tell this was more for him than it was you. Despite that you couldn't help but feel a pang of something. Acceptance? Joker may not be a caring individual - if being with Harley taught you anything it was how to spot a sociopath - but he did take you in when no one else would. Saw your destructive tendencies and viewed them as potential. He gave you a home.

"This is a promise." He spoke in a serious tone. It was rare to see this side of him. "Your promise to me. That you will always be the Jinx you were born to be. That no goody two shoes Bat will ever change that."

You stared down at the bubbling chemicals. Then back at Joker. Wordlessly, he gestured you closer to the edge.

"Promise."

You jumped.

The short breeze was transformed to warm liquid as the acid engulfed you. It tingled against your skin with rapid carbonation, before transforming into a sharp sting. You refused to open your eyes, part of you scared you'd lose your vision. When you did finally surface the air was steamy. The smell reminded you of the chlorine in a swimming pool. Before your eyes could focus you felt the surface of the chemicals break once more. After a short moment you heard familiar laughter.

You opened your eyes to see Joker, dripping with thick, green liquid. You briefly wondered if this is where his hair color came from. Would you still have to dye your's?

"HAHAHA!" Joker turned to you, gleeful laughter bouncing off the walls. "Can you feel it? That stinging sensation? That's the feeling of change, Jinx, my dear!"

You couldn't help the breathless chuckle that escaped you. Before you knew it you were both laughing hysterically. Tears broke through the chemicals on your face. In that moment you were so unbelievably happy. You belonged. And Joker had acknowledged that. Acknowledged you.

You are Jinx.

[lionhanie]

the first snow (lee riwoo)

working during the holidays isn’t too bad with sanghyeok by your side 

co-worker!riwoo x gn!reader (non-idol au) 

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet’s christmas event, a very onedoor christmas! check it out here!

word count: 4.1k ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ genre: fluff

warnings: a pinch of angst i'd say (alluding to burnout/seasonal depression), reader is a people pleaser, i curse maybe twice lol, riwoo is referred to as sanghyeok! 

a/n: SORRY I KNOW CHRISTMAS IS OVER…. had fun writing it regardless :,) hope u enjoy ^^

reblogs ↺  + feedback always appreciated!

Being one of the younger workers in the office was frustrating to say the least. Pausing your work to complete trivial tasks in the middle of the workday – making copies of a meeting agenda, fetching your seniors’ morning coffees, reorganizing the ridiculously large stack of your current client’s files – the list seemed to never end. For some reason, everyone around you was conveniently occupied with something so urgent that they couldn’t attend to the matters themselves, leaving the responsibility up to you. Sometimes you felt like you spent more time faced with useless errands than doing the work you were hired to do in the first place.

You were expecting a bit more respect from your peers when you were appointed as the team leader for your company’s newest project, but you were quick to realize your naivety in the earlier group meetings, finding that no one seemed to take you seriously. You would’ve thought that because the other members on the project had years of experience on their side, surely they’d be able to hold their weight to a certain extent... Right?

Painfully enough, it was the complete opposite. You can’t count the number of times one of the more “experienced” workers asked you to repeat a detail you’d discussed just minutes prior, or proposed a suggestion that completely contradicted the end goal of your client– it was clear to you that no one saw your leadership as more than a joke, no matter how hard you tried. 

And to top it all off, your company was structured in such a way that made it nearly impossible for you to speak up against your elders. Your word as a senior associate meant close to nothing if you were going against one of the partners of the firm. It didn’t matter that you put in ten times more effort than your team members, it was almost as if they were praised according to how long they’ve been in the office.

Safe to say you were relieved when Sanghyeok was added as a member of the team you were leading on a random Tuesday afternoon. Not that you two were close by any means – the extent of your interactions consisted of small smiles exchanged in passing in the printer room or short discussions of weekend plans over coffee in the break room. Rather, you were hopeful that his addition to the project would mean someone would finally start contributing even a fraction of the work you were putting in.

Even though you dread your bi-weekly team meetings, it was so much more rewarding to at least one other person cared about the success of the project. Sanghyeok was always in his unassigned-assigned seat right by the projector, intently nodding along to your agenda and taking notes when he deemed necessary. Hell, he’d even chime in whenever someone would ask a question that was obviously answered earlier in the presentation, giving you the chance to save your breath for something that actually mattered, and shooting you a cheeky grin afterwards, clearly satisfied helping you whenever he could. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Four days before the deadline. . .

Everyone begins to pack up their belongings the second it hits 5:00PM, slowly but surely filing out of the office before it gets too dark. It was no surprise to see your colleagues zipping up their briefcases far earlier than you planned on clocking out; the project deadline crept up on you faster than you’d like to admit, and your mostly incompetent team forced you to work overtime a majority of the recent weeks. In any other case, you probably wouldn’t be breaking your back hunched over your keyboard hours after the sun had set, but because the project was in your name, it pained you to present a finished product you weren’t proud of. 

“You aren’t leaving yet, Y/N?” You look up from your monitor, finding Sanghyeok looking at you from across your cubicle, wrapping a plush scarf around his neck. His eyes are full of concern– he’s noticed the way you never seem to budge once your peers start going home for the night. Even on days when he logs off later than he’d initially planned to, you’re still there, typing away at your desk.

“Agh, our Y/N is always so hardworking! They never seem to leave with the rest of us,” Alvin, a senior on your project notorious for sending in half-assed work far past the deadline you set for him, comments from his seat beside you. “I could never put in as much work as you do, not when I’ve got a family waiting for me at home!” Yeah, no shit. It’s hard to believe he’s stayed at the company so long performing the same quality of work you were doing in your first year in the office.

His words stung a bit, feeling oddly bitter at the idea of someone like him having people who loved him waiting for him to return from work– Coming back home to an empty apartment late at night never used to bother you, but something about the long winter nights and freezing temperatures made it undoubtedly sad in nature. It wasn’t just the weather making your loneliness feel colder than usual. 

The smile you return is painfully fake, something Sanghyeok clocks almost immediately. He gnaws on his lip, wanting to say something to the senior, ultimately deciding to hold back on it given how new he was to the project. Maybe it wasn’t his place. He didn’t want to make things worse for you by saying something out of line. Alvin shrugs his coat onto his back, quickly leaving the premises without another word. 

“If I didn’t see you in a new outfit everyday, I’d think you slept at your desk,” Sanghyeok jokes, trying to lighten the mood. From his first meeting with the new team, he quickly learned to admire the way you seemed to take charge when you needed to. It was impressive the way you’d joined the company later than he had, and were already put in charge of such a big task. He knew exactly how it felt to deal with all the stupid tasks from the other seniors in the office, finding himself doing the same thing for weeks before you came in. 

You chuckle pitifully, mainly towards yourself. “At this point, I should stop paying rent and start living at my desk.” You groan as you take a break for a well-needed stretch, your back cracking from your poor posture. “Some days I feel like I’m in the office more than my apartment.” Your words are lighthearted, but Sanghyeok notices the underlying melancholy in your statement. 

And Sanghyeok takes his leave, only after wishing you good luck and a “get home safe” as he always does, but he can’t stop thinking about how much time you’ve been putting into your work. He’s constantly shut down whenever he asks you if there’s anything else he can help with, just wanting to take a fraction of the load off your plate.

He knows you’re doing it just to be nice. You’re the type of person to take on a burden all on your own, even if it means committing to the ungodly hours you’ve become so used to. Even on the bus ride home, Sanghyeok can’t shake your tired eyes out of his mind. For some reason, it hurts to imagine you slowly killing yourself over a silly project all because no one had the decency to bother trying when they knew you’d fix it for them anyways. He wanted to do more… No, he needed to do more. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Three days before the deadline. . .

Sanghyeok wonders how you’re always earlier than him when he walks into the office, finding you so put-together and diligently editing the project presentation when he’s still groggy after his commute to work. 

The workload around the holidays is never too demanding, thankfully the company’s clients normally don’t ask for much as the year comes to an end. In your case, however, all your time is spent on trying to perfect the project proposal for your overwhelmingly-nitpicky boss. You’re convinced it’s some sort of test to see how good you’d be leading a team before you get the promotion you’ve been waiting on for the past couple months. Even if you make it out of your boss’ critiques alive, you’re certain you’ve lost countless years off your life with all the stress weighing down on you. 

You lock eyes with Sanghyeok every once in a while, finding him peeking over the divider separating your desks more than normal. That’s odd. You figure it’s probably because he has a question about the numerous items that still need fixing on the project. It doesn’t occur to you that he wants to talk to you until he rises from his chair, tapping his pen on the top of your monitor to catch your attention.

“I don’t know if you saw, but I just fixed a lot of the trouble areas you mentioned in the meeting the other day,” He’s excessively clicking the pen in his free hand, feeling oddly nervous to show you his work even when he knows he did everything properly– He knows how high your expectations are when it comes to your job. “I’m pretty sure I made sure to do everything you asked for, but you might want to double-check if I missed anything.”

The gasp of relief you let out is uncharacteristically loud, so much so that it earns you a side-eye from Alvin, who was currently playing solitaire at his desk next to you. He’d just saved you hours of overtime with his work, finding everything done to a tee. “No, no, this is perfect. I was dying to fix those until I realized I forgot Christian told me to come with him for his fieldwork later and–”

“It doesn’t matter who goes with him, right? I’ll go with him instead.”

“Huh? Are you sure? I don’t mind, plus he specifically asked me so maybe–”

“Y/N, it’s fine, really! I used to go on client visits all the time before he started dragging you along with him. I’ll be okay, promise!” He’s confident in his words, reassuring you of all the concerns he knew were starting to bubble up in your head. “I know you’ve been worried about getting everything done before the deadline, you shouldn’t have to waste your precious time following him around and pretending like you care about his wife.” 

The comment makes you giggle, everyone knew the senior for the way he could go on and on about his family life knowing damn well no one was actually listening to his neverending rants. “Thank you, Sanghyeok. It means a lot, really.”  

“Maybe we’ll be able to leave at the same time today, yeah?”

 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Two days before the deadline. . .

The following day, after everyone else in the office logged out for the night, Sanghyeok sneaks back into the office. He made it his mission to discreetly plant a care package for you while you’re busy in the printer room– It’s nothing big, no, rather just a hot cup of tea and a sandwich he’d purchased from the cafe across the street from the building. 

You’d offhandedly mentioned the way you get so immersed in your work without anyone peering over your shoulder that you forget to cater to your growing hunger, often resorting to eating instant ramen in the break room before returning to your desk. Sanghyeok knew how much the project meant to you, but that didn’t mean he was going to let you neglect your health just for a positive response from your old boss.   

You’re confused when you come back to your cubicle, finding all of your previously haphazardly scattered project papers perfectly organized in a folder by the edge of the desk. The lid was taken off the cup of tea, presumably to let it cool down a bit before drinking. Huh? The note atop the sandwich container answered the questions lingering in your mind.

hope you don’t mind me moving some stuff around on your desk :p  eat up before you get back to work! good luck y/n!  sanghyeok (  ≧ᗜ≦)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ One day before the deadline. . .

“You think Alvin will mind if I borrow his spot today?” Sanghyeok questions, swiveling around in an office chair that didn’t belong to him.

“You could probably erase all the files off his computer and he wouldn’t bat an eye,” You joke as you sort through the stacks of papers residing on your desk, looking for a particular document. “I’m convinced he gets paid to just sit there and play card games for eight hours.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him touch his keyboard.” Sanghyeok chuckles before logging into the computer beside you.

“Why’re you using his computer though? You’re not going home yet?” 

“I think it’s only fair for me to help you finish the proposal when we’re supposed to be submitting it tomorrow,” Sanghyeok answers matter-of-factly. You watch as he opens up the same powerpoint you’ve been staring at on his own monitor. It’s quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the occasional clicks of your mouse. “...Doesn’t it get lonely working all by yourself?”

You pause to think for a moment. It’s not the worst thing in the world, you’re sure you wouldn’t be capable of doing it everyday if it was that unbearable. “No, not really. If anything, it’s nice to not have anyone pulling me away from my desk for some stupid shit– Sorry, stupid stuff.” You correct yourself. 

“I know we’re still at work and all, but you don’t need to censor yourself when it’s just us. I’m not gonna snitch on you for cursing on the clock, Y/N.” He teases, not surprised to see that you’re still in work-mode even when the office is practically empty. 

“Oops, just force of habit. I'd rather die than accidently curse in front of one of the oldies we work with,” You smile sheepishly, feeling at ease with him at your side. You’re not sure when you grew so fond of the man – maybe it’s because of how similar you are in age or the way he’s always so quick to defend you in the meeting room – but he’s always felt like more of a friend than a co-worker in times like these. “...It’s nice to have some company for a change, though. Felt like I was going insane looking at the same documents all by myself.” 

“It’s okay to admit you get lonely sometimes, Y/N.” Sanghyeok pauses his typing to look at you, his eyes soft when they meet yours. “I was thinking about it on my way home the other day, you know, the way you willingly stay in the office after everyone leaves every night. It’s hard to imagine it isn’t difficult being by yourself all the time.”

You’re silent, knowing that he’ll see through you no matter what you say. Sure, you had your fair share of moments sitting crying at your desk, in fear that your efforts wouldn’t pay off despite how much you’ve been trying, but that doesn’t mean you need his help. You made it this far all on your own, after all. 

And when you fall asleep at your desk, exhaustion finally catching up to you, Sanghyeok doesn’t hesitate to rest a sweater on your back. He knows how upset you’ll be once you wake up, bummed that you dozed off at such a crucial time, but he’s more than happy to let you sleep for a bit before gently shaking you awake after a well-deserved power nap. 

“Shit, how long was I knocked out for?” Embarrassed, you rub the sleep from your eyes, turning away to yawn. 

“It wasn’t even thirty minutes, you’ll be fine Y/N. I finished editing a section of the report while you were sleeping too.” You tap on your mouse, waking up the black screen, happy to see that a good chunk of the comments you’d made on the document were long resolved. “Can you promise me something?” 

You’re offset by the sudden serious mood lingering between you two, but you slowly nod regardless. “Even when this project is over, will you promise to come to me if you need help?” 

“I know I only joined your team recently, but I want you to know you can depend on me. It’s not fair for you to do all this on your own,” Sanghyeok can sense the way you’re processing his request in your mind, watching as you hesitate to answer. “I know it’s probably weird coming from someone who’s only been here a couple months longer than you, but I promise I’ll try my best if you ever need me.” 

“Okay.”

“...So that means you won’t try to turn me down whenever I offer to do something for you, right?” 

“Yes, Sanghyeok, I won’t turn you down when you try to help me.” You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your computer, missing the way his face lights up at your response, proudly smiling to himself. 

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The day of the deadline. . .

You’re sure you could cry tears of joy when you send the final version of your project proposal to your boss. There were a few sections you wish you had more time to perfect, but it was impossible without an extension to your deadline– There’s nothing else to do but wait until you get feedback, which is entirely out of your hands at this point. 7:15PM. It’s still two hours past the usual 5:00PM ending time, but far earlier than you’ve clocked out in the past two weeks. 

“You’re actually leaving at the same time as me? I’m not dreaming, right?” Sanghyeok pinches at his cheek, earning a giggle from you in response. 

“Well, I just forwarded all the documents to our boss. Felt like I deserved at least one early night during the holidays,” You close your eyes as you fall back in your chair, letting out a content sigh knowing there wasn’t anything else you had to do for a while. “God, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sanghyeok.” 

He holds the door for you after you’ve both collected all of your belongings, bundled up for the harsh temperatures waiting for you outside the building. The elevator ride down is silent until the man next to you clears his throat, prompting you to look at him. “So, do you have plans tonight?”

“Ah, not really. I was planning on picking up some dinner at the convenience store before heading back to my place.” He nods, fiddling with his tie in a feeble attempt to calm down his nerves from what he was about to do. 

“Can I take you out to dinner, Y/N?” Your eyes widen slightly, unsure what to make of the question. Was he… asking you on a date right now? It wasn’t out of the ordinary for coworkers to share a meal off the clock, but the fact that it was just the two of you had your brain malfunctioning. “...You know, as a thank you for working so hard on the project! It’s the least I can do.” Sanghyeok laughed nervously, hand flying up to the back of his neck as he waited for your response. 

It doesn’t take long for you to decide your answer, nodding in confirmation, feeling slightly bashful at the sudden act of appreciation you weren’t used to receiving, especially not at work. There’s a pep in his step as he brings to you one of his favorite ramen spots, a hole-in-the-wall joint tucked away from the main streets. It’s cute, honestly. You’ve learned a lot about your coworker in recent days, but this side of him was entirely new to you. 

You’re glad you trusted his recommendations when you take your first bite, the hot broth immediately melting the chills you garnered from the short walk there. Despite this being your first interaction with Sanghyeok outside of work, there’s no awkwardness in your time spent together– Instead, a fuzzy feeling rests in your chest as you look at the man sitting across the table from you. Perhaps it’s due to the newfound absence of pressure on your back from sending in the project proposal, or maybe because it’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself a proper meal in days, but it’s a feeling you don’t wish to lose any time soon. 

Usually you’re one to rush back home immediately after dinner, not wanting to lose any second of rest you have before you’re forced to go back to the hell you call work, but you’re more than happy to accept Sanghyeok’s invitation to go to a nearby bar for some drinks following the meal you shared. It’s there you realize he’s a lot wittier than he comes off as when you’re on the clock, your cheeks aching from smiling so hard at his endless supply of jokes. 

You don’t stay there long, only garnering a couple drinks before finding yourself walking around one of the parks in the area you didn’t even know existed, gawking at the string lights adorning the trees. Work was taking up all of your attention that you didn’t even have the time to decorate your apartment for the holidays like you normally would’ve. This was the closest thing you could get, but you were far from complaining. 

“I never expected you to be like this, Sanghyeok.” You confess after coming down from the fit of laughter he’d induced with one of his stupid puns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, worried that he’d done something wrong. 

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad! You’re just… A breath of fresh air, I guess.” Your words emit a cloud of vapor in the frigid air.  “I’m sorry I didn’t notice it sooner, I’ve been a real shut-in especially with the deadline and–”

“You don’t need to apologize for that, Y/N.” He cuts you off; he’s well aware of your tendency to apologize for things that you didn’t need to be sorry for in the first place. It was one of the only things he wished he could change about you, wanting you to give yourself more credit for the love you poured into everything you did. “I just wanted to make your life easier, I guess. Thanks for giving me the chance to do that tonight.” 

“I should really be the one thanking you. You’ve been nothing short of helpful ever since you joined our team,” Thinking back on the past couple days, Sanghyeok never once shied away from doing things to ease your burdens, even going out of his way so you could focus all your attention onto what mattered most to you. “It’s like you were some sort of holiday miracle sent to me.” 

Unwrapping the scarf from his neck, Sanghyeok carefully loops it around the back of your head, securing it snugly at the front of your jacket. “It’s freezing… You should really be layering up more.” He’s glad the lighting on the trees is too dim for you to see the blush creeping up his neck after seeing you in his clothes. He’d probably blame it on the frosty air if you called him out on it. “Ah, it’s snowing!” 

The gaze you were previously sharing is broken as you look up, crystal white snowflakes slowly sinking from the sky. It was surreal to be standing in the middle of the park, ambient light illuminating the way the snow ended their descent atop your heads, your shared laughter harmonizing at the sight.

And despite the cold weather, you felt warm standing next to him.

© lionhanie 2025 ; all rights reserved!

[liveontelevision]

Who Wants Pancakes?

@alcoris-shiz requested some Radioapple stuff and i hope this is okay 😬 I haven't written for any ships yet, so this is my first shot at that 🎉

18+ Smut-ish, Mentions of Blood

♡♡♡

Lucifer didn't think the proximity would become a problem, I mean, he purposely made his office as far from that damned radio demon as possible and it still wasn't enough of a buffer to keep him off his ass. Still, other than having an occasional argument or just hearing some insulting mutters in passing, it wasn't all bad. The hotel was finally picking up and getting some residents, and he did make a promise to lend a hand where possible.

Something Charlie suggested early on was weekly hotel staff breakfasts. It was a fond memory, though a distant one, to have a hot plate of pancakes with her parents, so she was quick to suggest Lucifer start making them one day of the week for everyone to enjoy. Unfortunately, that does include Alastor. He agreed with delight, willing to do anything for his dearest daughter even with the slightest hesitance.

After a few weeks, it actually became something Lucifer looked forward to. Sure, he had to deal with the more extreme personalities of some of the staff, but it's been quite a while since he cooked and he was glad to get the chance to enjoy it with Charlie, again. Alastor had actually never joined this routine, which he had to admit, sent a stir of emotions to Lucifer's head.

Was he too pompous to even accept pancakes? What could that damned fool be doing that was so important, he couldn't sit down for a mere hour? Should he consider trying different recipes? He knows Alastor is a cannibal, but there had to be some exceptions.. But why should he care?

He often embarrassed himself by entertaining the idea of trying to satisfy him in any way.

"Who's ready for pancakes?" Lucifer pushes the kitchen door open with his back, his arms stacked with plates upon plates of freshly made pancakes as he sang out the phrase with a smile. An audible hum emerged from each of the staff members seated at the table, the scent filling the room. He skillfully slid the plates free of his arms and lined them up on the table before snapping his fingers and allowing each plate to portal in front of the hungry demons. He actually spent these past few weeks learning about who likes what; Angel loved having whipped cream decorating his plate, Husk was a fan of honey baked into his, and Niffty's always looked like an icecream sundae with the amount of toppings she'd want. A classic syrup drizzled plate appeared at the head of the table, a seat fit for a king. So, when Lucifer wiped his hands clean of any baking reminents that might have been stuck on, he was struck with disbelief to a devilish smile meeting him, seated at the head of the table. At his seat.

"Well! What a pleasant surprise! I'm so glad to see you could finally join us!" Lucifer's chipper demeanor wavered as he spoke through his clenched teeth. Alastor slowly slid Lucifer's plate across the table to be in front of the seat next to his, a chair that was always left open, in the hopes that a certain demon would join. Well, here he is.

"Good morning! I've found myself with a bit of free time this morning, so I thought i'd kindly grace you all with my presence. I'm sure you've all been missing me this past few weeks, I do apologize for any worry i may have caused." Alastor smiles brightly, completely ignoring the fuming angel who sat down hard in the only available chair. Charlie was quick to reassure Alastor, simply stating that she's glad to see him and how she's just happy to see him join breakfast. But Lucifer was clearly not entertained by that answer, since it's simply just not true. Lucifer let's out a crood fake laugh before picking up his knife with a white knuckled fist.

"What, am I to simply watch everyone enjoy their breakfast? Am I to pick through the trash for my food? How crude!" Alastor puts on a woe-is-me fit, raising his arm to fain over his head in a fainting motion. Charlie loudly cleared her throat to gain her father's attention, then nudged her eyes in Alastor's direction before holding her hands together in a pleading motion. How can he say no to those puppy dog eyes? He can't, unfortunately. With a dramatic dropping of his utensils, Lucifer huffed his way into the kitchen, tying his already dirtied apron back around his waist.

Mumbling some angry profanities about a certain deer demon, he listened to the muffled conversations and laughs that went on right beyond the door. As he began to mix the batter, he heard the door swing open.

"I appreciate your work, Your Highness, but I am especially particular about my food. I'm sure you wouldn't mind me watching your methods, hmm?" Without any answer, the radio demon took a seat at the island across the counter, crossing his slender legs and propping his head up with his hands. Lucifer let out a quiet, "Oh Brother -" before quickening his pace with the whisk. "Now now! Don't let that frightful scrowl ruin my pancakes. I keep hearing of their excellence and I expect just that." He tuned in, his smile only becoming increasingly petty.

This went on the entire time. Lucifer made his pancakes with a scowl, his eye twitching at every little note or critique that came out in Alastor's staticky tone. Afterward, he was finally able to join his daughter for breakfast. Even if his plate had gotten cold, and everyone was essentially done with their own food, he made it a point smile and acted as if he didn't waste his morning on this red-headed prick. Lucifer began to clean up the table, with some help, but he surely didn't mind when Charlie had to take everyone to the lobby for an exercise that was supposed to start sooner than earlier. The worst part? The plate made fresh for Alastor sat perfectly untouched.

"Oh, come on! That fucking piece of ... " Lucifer grumbled, essentially cleaning up everything but that plate, simply too angered to look at it. He brought the dishes to the kitchen, plopping them into the sink. He set his ring to the side as he washed the dishes, humming a tune to calm his previous rage. Menial tasks always did help with that. A static song overwhelmed Lucifer's humming, snapping him out of his little trance and making him whip his head around, to see an all too close radio demon, holding his untouched pancakes in front of him. Lucifer groaned and rolled his eyes before returning to the dishes.

"Oh wow. So! Are you here to help me clean or make fun of how I do the dishes? Either way, I don't need it. Do me a favor and fuck off." Losing his cool for a moment, his final statement come out as a gravelly growl. Alastor let out a despicable cackle, placing the plate down next to the sink, having to lean over Lucifer to do so. Lucifer scoffed when he felt his back lightly brush the other's Torso, attempting to keep a blush from running across his face.

"Why no, good sir! I don't intend to help one bit, not to worry. I simply enjoy seeing a powerful king, such as yourself, acting as a meeger housewife." His voice was far too close to Lucifer's ear, a chill running up his spine as he felt his hot breath against the side of his cheek. In his best attempts to keep his cool, he stood rigged for a moment before continuing to scrub a plate that was already spotless.

"Don't forget your place, good sir - " he spoke in a mocking tone," - I could kill you with a snap of my fingers." He spat out, his face still not visible to the demon towering over him.

"Oh, I don't doubt it! Well, I won't interrupt you again, I am here to simply enjoy the view, as I said before." As he stepped away to sit back into a bar stool, a hushed static ran over Lucifer's body. His eye twitched as he continued to clean his dishes, hoping that ignorance would make him lose interest and find something better to do. It didn't

Alastor's eyes boar into his back the entire time. After a hasty clean-up, Lucifer was quick to set aside his apron and dust off his vest and sleeves to get the hell out of the room. The white noise of static was becoming unbearable. After letting out a sigh of relief, Lucifer blindly went to pick up his wedding band, his hand reaching out and meeting nothing but empty counter space. He began to panic, looking around frantically, patting down his pockets, even reaching into the sink.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck - " In the nervous state, he took no time to look back to Alastor, if he did, he'd be greeted with his smile growing impossibly wider.

"Missing something, your highness?" Alastor said with an innocent tone, batting his eyelashes at the king. Lucifer whipped his head around and slammed his fists on the counter in front of him, cracking the marble.

"What the fuck did you do?" His devil features were quick to sprout, starting with his tail that stuck straight up like a cat in distress, the tip just barely flicking. Alastor could feel the heat of the small flame that sparked at Lucifer's crown, sitting right between his lengthy horns that tore through his flesh. His eyes squinted with a terrifying red glow, completely enraged at Alastor's unphased expression.

"Oh, dear! Could you possibly be looking for this?" Alastor wiggled his hand in front of Lucifer's face, flaunting his own wedding band sitting pretty on his red claws. Lucifer wasted no time to reach out and grab it, but of course, Alastor easily got away by standing from his seat.

They danced around the kitchen for a moment, Alastor cackling at every near miss, which only pissed the king off more. His power was used poorly, making him run out of stamina much quicker than he would prefer, but still long enough to tire out the radio demon just as much. They stood a few feet away from eachother, panting heavily. Letting out a final growl, Lucifer flooded the room with his large wings and lunged out in one final attempt. Alastor, not exactly planning out his next move, popped the ring into his mouth in one smooth motion. Lucifer stumbled and stopped mid lunge, the sheer confusion hitting him more than anything.

"What in the unholy hell - What did you do?! Why??" The situation became comical for a moment, his rage dying down as he tried to wrap his head around the bold move.

"You want your ring back, Sweatheart? Come and get it." He spoke awkwardly, attempting to get his words out before opening his mouth and showing off the wedding band that sat right on the center of his tongue.

Lucifer immediately flushed red, his wings curling around his body before tucking behind his back again. This wasn't what Alastor originally had in plan, but seeing his reaction was just as well. He placed his hands on his hips and bent forward to meet Lucifer's eyes and present him with a much better view of his opened mouth.

They stood there for a moment silently. Alastor shut his eyes and hummed for a moment, closing his mouth and slipping the ring on the tip of tongue before sticking it out to present to Lucifer. It took him far too long to make the decision, but Lucifer took a painful grip onto his shoulders and smashed his open mouth against Alastor's presented tongue. He was far too startled too grasp the situation in time, allowing Lucifer to skilfully wrap his forked tongue around Alastor's prying the ring off and into his own mouth. He pulled away, their tongues still connected with a line of saliva for a moment.

Lucifer placed his hand below his mouth and gently spat out his ring, sliding it carefully on his finger still covered in their mixed spit. He never broke eye contact with the dazed deer demon. Lucifer smirked, crossing his arms across his puffed out chest with pride, as if he won something. He let out a satisfied hum before his eyes followed Alastor's body moving towards him. Standing nearly toe to toe, Lucifer had to crain his neck to see Alastor's glowing eyes.

"Do it, again." His voice was low and gravely, a loud static screeching for a moment causing Lucifer to hiss and cover his ears. Taking the oppurtunity, Alastor took a strong hold onto Lucifer's jaw, pulling him upwards until he was struggling to keep his feet on the ground. He held onto his wrist, an angry glint in his eye, yet silent.

"Did you not hear me, Your Highness? Do. It. Again." He couldn't prevent his face from heating up at the demand, slightly gasping for breath. Mustering his strength, he rolled his eyes and sent a wicked grin to Alastor, his face still held in his hands.

"Sure~"

Lucifer took in a fistful of the demon's red hair and yanked it towards his face, making their lips crash together in a heated attempt to take control of the situation. Alastor lost his grip, allowing Lucifer to firmly plant his feet back on the ground. He kept a tight grip on his hair, keeping the towering demon at his level by bending him over uncomfortably at the hip. He continued to wrestle his forked tongue around Alastor's mouth, no matter how hard he tried to keep up with the king, he couldnt help but melt into the moment. And he feel absolute shame because of it.

After what seemed like meer seconds, Lucifer pulled his hair back, causing his neck to uncomfortably crane backwards. He fell to his knees, the only way to break the discomfort of his current stature. He panted heavily, his arms dropped to his side in a beautiful display of obedience. Lucifer's irises glew a shade of blood red at the sight in front of him. He leaned down just slightly to meet his eyes, finally having the upperhand, "I'll do it again, Sure. But - you have to admit that I won." He grinned almost innocently, making Alastor's limp expression immediately turn into a snarl.

"Go on, then. Admit defeat. You lost."

He'd never admit it, but Alastor found himself in an absolutely helpless situation. He was overpowered.

"Sire, you can't possibly be serious, I would hardly call this a game, don't -" before he could attempt to charm his way out of it, Lucifer readjusted the grasp on his hair to lift his head up by his ears. He yelped.

"Ahha! That's a fun noise! Go ahead and do it again, Darling. I'll give you what you want~" Lucifer kept a tight hold on the other demons ears, feeling them twitch in his fist. He leaned down slightly just hovering over his lips, before yanking his ears forward to connect them with his. The sudden motion made another quiet yelp come from Alastor's lips, but it was muffled between their heavy breaths combined.

He reached upwards, grabbing Lucifer's vest and pulling him down until his knees hit the floor painfully. The sudden jolt caused Lucifer's teeth to graze the inside of his cheek, a small amount of blood mixing in between their lips. Alastor tasted it almost immediately, grabbing Lucifer's sides and pulling him into his torso, sloppily trying to lap up any of the angelic blood that spilled from his mouth.

Lucifer pulled away, pushing on Alastor's chest to keep a distance. As they caught their breath, Alastor licked his lips clean of the golden blood that he managed to obtain. He let out a low growl, before picking up Lucifer by his waist and tossing him hastily onto the counter. Pulling him right to the edge, their bodies completely pressed together, he locked their lips again. Lucifer lost his powerful composure for a moment, gripping Alastor's back and letting out a pathetic whimper into the kiss.

Alastor responded by biting Lucifer's lip, allowing more of his sweet blood to spill into his mouth. He slipped his hands between the two of them, slicing the threads of each button that held his vest and shirt together with ease. Pulling his shirt to the side before he could even realize his top was undone, Alastor pulled away from his lips and let out a heavy breath at the nape of his neck before anchoring his pointed teeth at the softest part of his skin.

Lucifer let out a careful moan, quick to cover his mouth lazily to hold back any other noises. His hand was quickly ripped away from his lips, Alastor guiding it back to the top of his head. He quickly took a grasp of his hair again, desperate for anything to anchor himself to reality.

After leaving a lovely trail of bloody bruises and bites across his entire chest, tainting the procelain white skin, he stepped back to look at his work. Lucifer was a panting mess, hair stuck to his forehead and eyes dazed. His shirts had fallen off his shoulders and he was still attempting to catch his breath. Alastor recovered much quicker, wiping the trail of glowing blood that flowed down Lucifer's chin with his thumb and licking it clean himself.

"Well, I suppose I'll admit to defeat and leave you to your duties, your highness." He swipes some invisible dust from his coat before holding his hands behind his back and heading towards the door.

"Ah, and might I say, you make quite the meal!" He said chipperly, leaving a stunned Lucifer still seated on the countertop as the radio static that once flooded his senses slowly ceased.

♡♡♡

Also just saying, I took some inspo from a radioapple drawing I saw on IG and i cannot for the life of me find it again so I'll include it if anyone finds it :,)

[skeletinmoss]

The Curce Of The Dark Phoenix

Chapter 27: The ruins of Noctura

First chapter | Previous

“So, I always kinda knew that we lived far from the capitol. But… If you think about it, we had to ride all night to get from the nearest inn to home. And the only other thing between home and the border is a set of ruins at the very edge,” Patton listed.

“Your parents took you as far from the council as they physically could without abandoning the country entirely,” Virgil told Roman.

“I’m trying to remember if I’d ever seen these ruins in use… But I realize that might be futile,” Janus said a bit miffed.

“Can’t we try to fix his memory now?” Patton wondered.

“There is a myriad of memory spells that could have been at the base of the missing memories,” Logan explained. “And since Janus’ was applied so sloppily we’d have to take extra care in restoring his mind or risk causing irreparable damage. If it was the… If it was Gustav Noctura who applied the memory spell, then we’ll be most likely to find out the finer details in his home. If we don’t find anything in the ruins we could return to the tower. We might find something new on a second search. Originally I had fully expected to spend a few weeks identifying and organizing the tower before deciding on our next move. When we found the box, I thought we might have stumbled into a break trough. Sometimes the right answer is the most obvious one.

And I suppose we did…” Logan said. A bit saddened.

“I still kind of hope that it turns out to be all a big misunderstanding,” Roman admitted empathetically.

"Me too," Virgil sighed. Roman silently protested his guilt. From what he saw, Virgil likely had the least to do with the path Gustav Novtura chose if it was as dark as they feared.

"As for the ruins. I'd need to see them to be sure, but they are likely the remains of a mage outpost. This close to the border, it could be from us or from the neighbors. The boiling river is not that far from our destination. It was not always there, though. So its creation might have made claiming land past it strategically unwise and defending here a waste of revourses, leaving the fort without purpose until Gustav deemed it a good place to live," Virgil explained

"That makes sense," Logan mused.

They rode on with idle chatter amongst themselves for a while, all nervous at what they might learn.

Ocasionally laughing at recollections of past antics and gasping at old scandals.

"I have been thinking... about Mister Remy and Mister Emile. You said they had died a few times before becoming high mages?" Patton mused as they stopped to eat.

"Yes," Janus said, curious what would come next. "Well. That means that they didn't come back because of being high mages, right?" The farmer's son stated.

"Astute conclusion," Logan agreed.

"And you figured we've heard that brought up in a zillion conversations already and have come to every possible conclusion?" Remus guessed, proud it seemed. Patton nodded, smiling appreciative.

"Well, what is yours, let's get that one out of the way," Virgil suggested.

"Well. I think it means that, after we have paid penance for our wrongs, the ocean sends us on to be reborn again. I think that remembering, and being recognizable to those who knew them in a previous life, is unique to the eternal lovers. Caused by their magical bond to one another. But I think that souls can return in a new body," Patton explained.

That sounded interesting. The elder mages nodded.

"That's the accepted consensus among high mages. Some think that the more lives you've lived, the greater your natural talent in magic. If that were true, you three must've lived quite a few," Virgil mused.

"And you too," Roman teased fondly.

"Oh good, he's on our side," Janus quipped.

"Maybe it also depends on the quality of life," Roman added.

"If you lived one life as a very good and kind person, you'll have more aptitude than someone who's spent 10 being cruel and selfish," he reasoned.

"I like that. Sounds like an arrangement the gods might come to," Patton said.

"There are some who thought that Love simply liked them so much as a pair that when they died the first time, she begged the ocean to give them another chance. And apparently, he has a hard time saying no. And after they became high mages their souls left their bodies out of habit rather than necessity. I agree with the last part. I am fond off them both, but it is very in character for them," Janus pointed out.

"And some think they were so disgustingly cutesy they got kicked out of the afterlife to give the other souls a break!" Remus snickered. Though there was fondness in his remark.

"That's just you Remus," Virgil laughed.

"I am good leaving it a mystery. Personally speaking. The one mystery we shall never solve," he mused.

"I think it would be nice, if the first one is true. It could mean we have known each other and loved each other before," Roman pointed out.

Virgil smiled. "That is a nice thought," he agreed.

"Oh! What of you were the captain? And now you are back and rescued him, and you can get married this time," Patton gushed, swept up by the romance.

Virgil smiled and kissed Roman sweetly. "Whatever the case may be. I know that I love you in this lifetime," he whispered. Roman turned red and felt light with giddiness at the same time.

"It is a comforting thought, I suppose. That our loved ones might meet us once more in the future," Logan mused as he got up, helped Janus up, who was endeared by the gesture.

Remus got up and scooped a giggling Patton into his arms to carry him to his horse.

"They definitely shared a dream," Roman said as he righted himself and offered Virgil a hand, which was gracefully accepted.

"Definitely. And they have communicated quite clearly their wants and needs, it seems," Virgil agreed. Roman pulled him up and stepped in a touch closer for a long kiss.

"Yes, you are in love, we know! But we are losing daylight!" Remus complained.

They chuckled and let go.

"Are we?" he asked, the answer clear in his heart.

"Terrifyingly so," Virgil assured them. And he meant every word. Roman gave him a quick kiss in comfort before heading for their horses.

The rest of the ride they distracted themselves with wild plans for the future. Far of journeys, great feats of magic, creating a brand new flower...

But as the sun lowered Roman and Logan, who'd gotten to talking about how different they felt now at the front, halted their horses abruptly.

"You feel that too, don't you?" Logan asked tensely.

"You mean like my blood is colder, the air thinner and there is an unnatural pressure against my skin?" Roman asked.

"Yes," Logan confirmed.

"Glad it's not just me. I worried for a second I was about to die from something mysterious and take out our horses with me," Roman said in an attempt to make light of this awfull feeling.

"Everything alright?" Patton asked as he joined them where they'd stopped.

"You don't feel that?" Roman asked, baffled at how it could be missed.

"It seems we guessed right. What you two feel is the edge of a high mage's territory. Of one who didn't want uninvited guests. Patton will likely feel it a bit further in," Janus offered. That made sense.

"Are we going to feel like this the whole time?" Roman asked, not looking forward to trying to work like this.

"Will they, Virgil?" Remus asked.

"What are you asking me for?" Virgil huffed.

"Quickest way to deal with the ick is to be invited in by someone who's welcome," Remus pointed out.

"And you were very favored by him," Janus agreed.

Virgil sighed, got of his horse and moved to the front, passing the invisible line without flinching.

He raised his hand and seemed to grab hold of something.

"Virgilious gantes invive di cique gestan!" He called out. Something in the air shifted. For a moment, something moved layers of shimmering fractals dazed Roman's senses. And then the air felt... not welcoming, not normal... but not hostile, either. Reluctant acceptance, maybe.

"This man has issues," Roman decided.

"Agreed," Janus huffed.

"Let's go. The ruins can't be that far. We should leave the horses behind though, the magic here will only distress them more," Virgil said, a little tense.

They secured their horses a little off the path and put a protection on them to keep them save from predators.

Roman joined Virgil at the front, worried. “Remember when Thomas warned you that trying to get into my home could be dangerous?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. Virgil looked on ahead. “Gustav… Was more familiar and comfortable with offense as a defense… We better be ready for anything coming up. And remember that he might have set his home up to defend against high mages specifically. He can’t kill us, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t go ‘missing’ on this mission. So to speak,” he explained.

“Missing how?” Roman asked.

Then a growl echoed through the woods, making Stardust whimper. “Puppy scared,” Buddy told them worriedly.

“It’s going to be alright Bud,” Roman promised.

“Everyone in a circle around Buddy and Star, don’t leave your backs open. Seems Gustav had some guard dogs that are still roaming his territory,” Remus said, retrieving his Scissor blades from his satchel. Janus pulled out a whip, Virgil retrieved his daggers, Roman brandished sky cleaver, Logan aimed his crossbow at the darkness and Patton readied his staff.

Roman flinched back as he caught glowing eyes in the darkness and then saw the darkness move.

“Shadow wolves,” he stated.

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” Virgil agreed.

“Aren’t those, extinct?” Logan wondered as the pact circled their group, looking for the weak link.

“Apparently not. Gustav must have preserved a pack somehow,” Janus stated, reluctantly impressed.

“Bad doggies?” Buddy asked.

Roman almost gave him a full chested yes, but he paused. “Don’t know bud. But they might want to hurt us,” he explained. Teaching Buddy a black and white vision of the world was not how he wanted him to go through the world.

“No hurt,” Buddy concluded.

“We’ll try our best,” Roman chuckled.

“Eh, just in case,” Patton said, followed by the sound of a bottle uncorking. Before they’d left Patton had made a few second breath potions. They all hoped he wouldn’t have to truly test if they worked as intended today. And Roman still hoped they wouldn’t see the potion in action.

But he was glad that there was some kind of protection over Patton should things get out of hand.

“I wish it wasn’t night,” Virgil mused.

Of course. The darkness probably made the shadow wolves stronger. Roman looked up, the canopy above them was unusually thick, even in broad daylight, it would be fairly dark here.

“Buddy, give us some light,” he ordered.

“Light!” Buddy agreed, and the next moment the pack whined unhappily. At the very least they lost their cover now.

“Maybe they’ll leave?” Patton wondered.

The pack got closer. “Worth a try,” Roman sighed. “Keep it up for a bit longer buddy. This shouldn’t take long,” he promised.

There were roughly ten wolves for five high mages, one great mage, one cosmic wolf and one homonculus.

Buddy was at the center, ready to interfere wherever things looked dire. That also meant that none of the wolves would be able to attack him directly even if they wanted to.

So that meant that three of them would have to deal with an extra wolf.

Roman was ready to defend his friends and his creations with all that he had.

The issue with a fight like this, you can't see how the rest of your group is doing as easily, and there is not much room to aid them. In front of him, a wolf got entangled in vines, a spell cast by someone he heard whining from a few wolves. He wasn't sure how many. He didn't have the time to wonder. One was attacking him. He swiped his spear at him, making the wolf jump back. He smirked and swiped again, this time triggering the distant attack effect he'd discovered in the temple. The wolf flinched away to avoid him and then whined as he got struck by seemingly nothing.

Buddy's light was putting them at a disadvantage and clearly they knew that too.

Behind him, he heard Remus speak in a tongue he didn't understand. It wasn't old Axillan. It sounded too different.

"I don't think they are in the mood to talk it out!" Patton concluded. Had Remus tried to convince them to leave?

"Fuck it then," Remus huffed. Roman heard a roar, a bleat, and a hiss. Remus had taken his guide form.

"Not an option for us," Virgil grunted as he warded off his wolf.

Roman felt his reluctance and made a decision. His wolf was still limping and reassessing the threat he posed after the last attempted attack. So Roman took a calculated risk, and on his next jump, he stabbed the wolf in his upper front leg. Not a deadly wound. But it would probably make it think twice about attacking again.

"Aaaaah!" he screamed. The entrapped wolf had gotten loose and dug his teeth into his shoulder. The cold was setting in. Roman heard his name called. He rushed forwards to the first wolf wo attacked him

He felt Virgil's wolf jump on his back. He heard Buddy call out for him. He got to his destination and embraced the cold. "Chase off the evolves save my friends," he prayed. And his magic consumed him. He was magic he had no definitive shape. He was a living fire and wolves, magic or not hated fire.

And so the wolves left as fast as they could, their mission abandoned.

Roman landed on Buddy's shoulder, humming comforting.

"Papa bird. Papa ok?" Buddy wondered. Roman let put a confirming caw. "Papa. Friend hurt," Buddy said, gesturing to where the group was now gathering around... Patton?

Roman flew over to join them, caring in concern.

He looked bad. Blood was staining his tunic fast. A claw mark in his side the cause.

"He was fine a second ago! I don't get it!" Remus insisted panicked.

"One of the wolves you knocked out of the way circled back around and managed to injure him before he or I could react. Roman's aid came but a blink of a moment later," Logan said.

"I have dome herbs that could help," Virgil mumbled, looking in his satchel.

"His potion thingy will save him, right?" Remus asked.

"It's a dice roll I'm not willing to make," Virgil insisted.

Roman, meanwhile, found himself entranced by the wound. He lowered his head to patton's side and sang.

The sound out of his beak was nothing like the usual squad. It was a sound clear like bells and harmonious and soothing. And as he sang, the wound closed and Patton's hazy gaze cleared up and a small smile graced his lips.

"H-Hey there," he said weakly.

"Phoenix song," Virgil gasped in relief. "How come I didn't think of that?" he muttered, frustrated with himself.

Roman shook out his feathers and found himself kneeling at Patton's side in human form.

He reached across to Virgil and held his face, recalling the worry and the guilt Virgil felt. He looked at the place where they'd both stood equally hindered in doing something to protect Patton. He looked back at Virgil with a quirked brow. Wondering if Virgil thought he should be blamed as well.

Virgil sighed and shook his head, relaxing into his hold.

"Aw, so sweet," Patton sighed.

"I don't think they will come back," Janus stated.

"Between Buddy's sunlight and Roman's reincarnation, they should need a long time in total darkness to recover," Logan agreed.

"Speaking of... I say we make a protective circle, rest, and then move on," he declared as he rose.

No one objected to that.

When they settled down, Roman and Virgil sat back to back, fingers intertwined. Stardust curling up next to them, needing rest as much as the rest of them.

"I will dream of sailing off to faraway lands to bring you the most peculiar, things I can find. Just to see your eyes light up when I present you with a new curiosity," Roman offered teasingly.

Virgil chuckled. "Then I shall dream of showing you the most delightful places in our kingdom and kissing in the rain," Virgil promises in return.

Roman quite liked that. A little reprieve before they got to the ruins.

He did dream of the ocean. He was sitting on a beach looking at the sun set. He considered the fact that he'd never seen the ocean in person. Would he like the scent? The feeling of the wind sweeping his hair? The sand under his feet? Would it make him mis a life he might have never lived.

"Where fo you bring them after they leave us?" he wondered out loud.

In his heart, he knew the answer. Home.

He awoke to Stardust nudging his face. He chuckled and rubbed his neck. "Good boy. The adventuring is almost over," he promised. He got up and found everyone was dusting themselves off and eying the road ahead nervously.

This area did not welcome their presence. That much had been made clear. Roman was just glad they'd left the horses somewhere protected. The stress alone might've killed the poor creatures.

"Let's go," Virgil breathed as he took Roman's hand and led the group forward.

It was not five steps later before Roman realized that Virgil was feeling apologetic. Roman squeezed his hand. Virgil m leaned over. "I have been. Relying on you to get my act together all day. I'm not usually so... dependent," he admitted softly.

"Emotions have been running high. And what lies ahead likely won’t be pleasant. I am more than happy to support you," Roman promised.

"I forgot you'd be fine. And I forgot the Phoenix song. What if I am more liability than asset today?" Virgil argued.

"We managed. You are not the only one who can fix everything. You might not be dependent, but depend on us anyway," he pleaded.

Virgil smiled at him and squeezed his hand appreciatively.

As they walked on, they passed a few inactive golems. Buddy clearly didn’t feel very comfortable walking past them.

“You’ll be okay bud,” Roman promised.

“I’d feel better about that if we could get somewhere with natural light,” Janus admitted, receiving a glare from Roman, Patton, Virgil and even Remus.

“Better be nice to my cousin there pall,” Remus warned. “I did not mean any offence. Apologies, seems the tension of the situation has me a bit tactless,” Janus promised.

It wasn't that much longer before they arrived at the ruins. It was warmer here, thanks to the boiling river. Excellent climate for the colorful and fragrant plants that grew around the outpost before them. It appeared in disrepair. There was a plaque Roman would assume commemorates a battle or some other great historical event. But it was in a script he couldn't even read let alone decipher.

"A puzzle," Janus noted.

"Oh, that would be Lo's thing," Patton said.

Logan came forward to study the plaque.

"Perhaps if I could read it and understand it with the nuances of its original..."

Janus kissed his temple, making Logan look up flustered and shocked.

“What, may I ask, was the purpose of that?” he wondered.

“Look again,” Janus urged.

Logan turned back to the plaque and gasped. “It’s the same, but I understand it… Hmmm… I see… too bad for you I am familiar with three of your cyphers and I think I know how you think… Yes… hm, wordplay… Okay that is a clever prosaic misdirect… I see…”

“It is quite fun to watch isn’t it?” Roman chuckled.

“I’ll say. This is like watching Virgil mess around with potions,” Remus snickered.

“Shhh, he almost has it,” Janus chided.

“I do!” Logan stated triumphantly.

“The key is his mother’s name,” he announced.

“Fuck!” Remus cursed.

“Oh that’s just great,” Janus huffed, rubbing his temples. “Maybe it’s somewhere in an archive? We can contact the king and ask him to have someone look,” he mused.

“It’s Delia,” Virgil stated, a bit disapproving of his friends.

Something in the air shimmered and suddenly the fort didn’t look like it had been abandoned for centuries, not even a few decades. The exotic flowers were still plentiful but planted with more purpose. The garden was a bit overgrown but not as much as one would expect.

“Well. Welcome to Noctura manor, I guess,” Virgil announced.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

OC Tag Game

saw @dragonologist-phd do this and put out an open tag so I figured I'd introduce the sad mushroom lady that I talk way too much about!

I'll tag @nuclearanomaly, @vargonautic, @urdnotgrunt, @dovahgarbage, @girlwonderers, @themilokin, @star-graze, @starlightsylph, @blujayonthewing, @parad0xymoron, @merrigelblogs, @ramblerogue, @msnoblesix, @ghilegab and anyone else who wants to do this! I literally only picked like the top folks I see in my activity feed but y'all know I love a good OC chat. Please feel free to join!

(art by @/ryuichifoxe, design by @/arlohawthorne)

— GENERAL

Name: Elowyn "Wyn" Bannon

Alias: Wyn is her nickname, but it's also what she chooses to introduce herself as. Elowyn is just too long!

Gender: Cis(ish) woman. I think she's probably got some gnc fuckery going on somewhere but honestly she's got a job (surviving Barovia) so she doesn't really care about that rn

Age: 31

Spoken Language: Common, Elvish, Infernal

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Occupation: Formerly? Wandering cleric of the grave, offeror of last rites, funeral planner and overall aid to the living left behind. Now? Barovia tour guide to a bunch of idiots that she unfortunately has gotten to care a lot about. (And the rogue.)

—FAVOURITE

Colour: Dark green or dark blue! Ideal is that phtalo green color honestly

Entertainment: One of Wyn's guilty pleasures wrt her station is that she actually really loves professional live music. She isn't much of a theater person, but she has a singular love for orchestra or ballet performances, and absolutely has invited wannabe suitors out to see a show strictly as an excuse to make the trip. (And if she genuinely likes them? Well, those boxes ARE pretty dark...)

Pastime: Hiking, especially when it takes her out to scenic locales that she can paint. Painting was always her preferred excuse for carving out some time alone, and she much preferred the effort of getting OUT somewhere over hiding away in her studio. It was always too easy for someone to interrupt her at the family house.

Food: Poached pears, especially over yogurt or some kind of vanilla custard. Sprinkle some cinnamon granola over them and Wyn is in heaven.

Drink: A strong roasted oolong tea, or coffee. She's fine with alcohol when the situation calls for it - and admittedly, there have been MANY situations lately that have called for it - but she still mostly prefers the company of a drink with a different kind of bite.

— HAVE THEY...

Passed University: Technically no, but Wyn did get something close to a university education. Her parents were insistent that she be well-schooled, even if they wouldn't let her follow her brother to one of the actual colleges.

Had Sex: Enthusiastically, yes.

Had Sex in Public: Not really. Wyn has gotten a little handsy in public, sure, but she still requires a closed door when clothes start coming off.

Got Tattoos: Not yet, but she's not opposed to the idea.

Got Piercings: Quite a few ear piercings, but that's it. So far, anyway.

Got Scarred: Yes! Wyn has a nasty one where her neck joins her shoulder from a fight with one of the Viscountesses that got out of hand.

Had a Broken Heart: Oh, big time. Wyn learned early how to spot potential suitors who were only trying to use her as a status upgrade, or were just interested in a turn with the local devilspawn, but there was one lad who showed a genuine attraction to her, and Wyn began spending a lot of time with him. Unfortunately, he was also deeply ashamed of that attraction, and put a lot of effort into hiding their courtship from, uh, everyone that he could. Wyn dropped him the moment she found out, but her affection for him had been genuine too, and she spent a good long while afterwards nursing her hurt feelings.

— ARE THEY...

A Cuddler: More than she would ever admit. Wyn holds herself at a certain distance from most people unless she has petitioned them for an evening, but given time to cultivate some trust, she is extremely physically affectionate. She likes to be the big spoon. :>

Scared Easily: Of certain things, yes. Wyn is easily put off by wanton violence, and people that are capable of it tend to scare her pretty badly, but things like ghosts? Monsters? Death? It takes quite a lot of effort for things like THAT to get to her.

Jealous Easily: Not unless she has been given due cause to believe that something truly does belong to her. She tends not to covet items or skills very much, and she doesn't really lay claim to people often enough to be called easily jealous, but she WILL defend whatever has been deemed unequivocally hers.

Trustworthy: M...mostly... Wyn doesn't often choose to break covenant with people, but she might go into a bargain with the intention of betrayal. That is NOT outside of the realm of possibility. Usually, though, she's true to her word.

— FAMILY...

Siblings: Her late brother, Atticus. He was her favorite person in the whole wide world, and she tried to move heaven and earth to bring him back.

Parents: Her mother and father, Analyn and Maxim Bannon, who Wyn has a...strained relationship with. She's pretty sure they're not looking for her.

Children: Actively not something Wyn is trying to pursue. She's already been told that she's going to die early, and even if she wanted children, she wouldn't subject them to that.

Pets: Never something that was allowed in the Bannon household. I don't know if Wyn would have even asked. She does hold a special reserve of fondness for the party wizard's familiar, a raven aptly named Lenore, which is probably as close as Wyn will ever get to a proper pet.

[ifortom]

Bad Decisions - T. H. (3)

frat!Tom x Reader - Fake dating AU

Chapter Summary: Friendships are made, questions are answered, and hearts race.

MASTERLIST

W/C: +5K

• DAY 3

"Hey, newest hot topic on campus." You heard it as soon as you left the classroom.

Amber positioned herself by your side as you walked down the university hallway.

"Hey! Is that what people are calling me now?" Amber laughed lightly.

"Well, being seen swapping spit with one of the star players comes with certain consequences." She said, slipping her arm through yours. "Where are you headed now?"

"Uh, I thought I'd grab lunch and then probably head home. I need to catch up on some things I let slide over the weekend." Amber smirked.

"I bet you made good use of that time." You looked at her, wide-eyed. "Oh, stop it! I bet you and Tom spent the whole Sunday snuggled up together."

"Actually, I was nursing a hangover. He suffered having to listen to me complain and swear I'd never drink again."

"That won’t be the last time you’ll have to deal with a hangover if you keep going out with us." She smiled. "Can I join you? I’m starving, and I’ve got some assignments to do too. I’d love the company. Plus, your genius brain could help me out, if you’re up for it, of course!"

You pretend to think for a moment, pouting as if you're contemplating her idea, even though you already know the answer.

"Hmm, I don’t know..." She stops abruptly and stares at you, her caramel eyes pleading. "Alright! No need to look at me like a lost puppy," you say, laughing.

"My lost puppy eyes have gotten me far in life. Where are we going?"

"I was thinking of going to Joe's, do you know it?" She shakes her head. "No way! You're about to try the best carbonara in the world. Let’s go!"

"I have to admit, I haven't eaten this well in a while." Amber said while rubbing her belly.

"I told you."

Despite what people say around campus, Amber is one of the easiest people to talk to that you've ever met. Maybe it helps that you share a lot of mutual interests, but the way she keeps the conversation flowing, never letting an awkward silence settle between topics, proves once again that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

The girl with long red hair has a strong personality and big dreams. College wasn’t one of them, but for her parents, she pushes herself harder each day to keep going. She told you that ever since high school, she's had a passion for music and even joined the choir, but she always heard she had no future in it. Harsh words from people who should have been supporting her.

To her parents, a degree has always mattered more than genuine happiness.

She didn’t go into much detail, but she said she joined the cheerleading team to stay at least a little closer to what she enjoys. She knows the girls she hangs out with don’t have the best reputation, and as a result, she carries that same label. But she says she doesn’t care, that she’s happy with what she does, has fun, and has met some lovely people.

You don’t completely agree with the last part, since several people she hangs out with have proven not to be so great after all. But Amber has more contact with them than you do, so there’s not much to discuss.

During lunch, you gave her your full attention, but at the same time, you wondered why she wanted to spend this time with you. It wasn’t something you had imagined would happen. To you, she was just another girl you made friends with at a party, someone with whom you’d never exchange words again, like so many times before.

But Amber also seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say, asking about your major, what motivates you, and your interests.

She walked you back to your apartment and sat down on the floor near the coffee table, with a book and notebook open as she worked on an assignment. You sat down next to her, focusing on the page in front of you.

An hour later, Amber slammed the book shut and poked you with the tip of a pencil.

“I’m bored.”

"You know that phrase is something I hear regularly? In this same position."

"Do you have a lot of study dates?" She says, raising an eyebrow.

"It’s Tom, actually. We spend a lot of time studying together, and after a few minutes, he gets tired and says he’s bored."

"You two spend quite a bit of time together, don’t you? That’s how you got close."

"Yeah, you could say that. We worked on a project together and became friends. It ended up being a routine for him to be here."

"And now you’re dating."

"Oh, we don’t have a label yet. We’re... testing things out."

Amber watched you for a moment before speaking.

"Can I be honest?" You nodded. "It isn't strange to see Tom bringing a girl to one of those events and joining our group for the night. But most of the time, it doesn’t go beyond that. One night. You're his friend first and foremost, and you know how he behaves."

Amber sighed and looked at the table in front of her, her gaze unfocused.

"I don’t want you to end up like one of those girls. I know we barely know each other, but I like you, and I pushed aside my ego to get closer to you because... you seem real. It’s ridiculous, but I don’t know what I’m saying anymore."

"Amber, it’s okay." Your hand found hers and held it. "Take your time."

"I and Tom are friends. He’s one of the few people I can really talk to, you know? Like I said, the people I hang out with aren’t bad, but Tom is genuine. He doesn’t hide, and he is who he is, even if people talk about him." Her eyes returned to your face, and you finally noticed the tears forming. "And he talked about you. He told me how much you support him and what you do together, how you talk about everything and really listen to each other."

"I never had the chance to get to know you before, and my fear was that you would treat me poorly because of who I am, even knowing you wouldn't do that." She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "And when you showed up at the party and I got to talk to you, I understood Tom. I understood why he keeps you around. And today you took me to lunch at a new place, brought me to your home, and helped me with an assignment that isn't even part of your course. And we barely know each other."

"Amber, I did that because I like you too. It’s all good!"

She sniffled and released your hand, bringing them to her face to dry her tears.

"That was intense, and now I’m embarrassed." She started to get up, and you followed her. "I need to go."

"Amber, wait. You don’t have to leave."

"Y/N, I need to." She quickly packed up all the materials she used back into the bag she was carrying. "That was more than I expected."

Knowing you wouldn't be able to change her mind, you just watched as she gathered her things.

"Amber, wait." You tried one last time as she approached the door to leave. She paused but didn’t look back. "Do you want to go shopping on Friday?"

Her shoulders trembled slightly, and she turned to you with a shy smile on her face.

"I would love to."

Tom was sitting at his desk in his room while you were lying on his soft comforter on the bed.

"Were you two out to lunch together?" he asked.

"Yeah, she asked if she could join me, and I didn’t say no. It was actually pretty nice."

"Until she freaked out in the middle of your living room."

"It wasn’t a freak-out." You sat up on the bed defensively, staring at him. "She vented. I didn’t understand much, but the emotional weight of her words… it was a lot."

"Amber is pretty straightforward."

"I don’t think so. She still has a lot bottled up inside her, and I don’t think she’s going to share it anytime soon."

"Y/N, she’s not a patient. Don’t overanalyze."

"I know that," you replied. "She said you two are friends. Has she talked to you about her parents?"

He raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Let’s stop right there. That’s not our business."

"Ah, okay, sorry." You flopped back onto the bed, arms spread wide. "But did you know she said you talk a lot about me?"

"Did she?" He stood up from his chair. "What did she say?"

"Nothing too specific. But I think it’s problematic because you’ve created a fantasy of me for her."

"Me?"

"Yes! I’m not that special, and the way she talked… you really need to watch your words or it’s going to seem like I’m the center of your universe."

"Ha! You would like that, wouldn't you?" He gets up from the chair and sits on the edge of the bed.

"That's your life wish, Holland. Not mine," you joked back.

"So you think you’re that special, huh?" he says.

"I know I am. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be right here now, and you wouldn’t be talking about me to other friends."

"You hurt my feelings talking like that. I don't have such a cold heart." he says, placing his hands over his chest.

"Aww, poor thing. Tommy gets his feelings hurt when he hears the truth." You reply, pouting and sitting again to face him properly.

"Why are you so sassy, huh?" He says, laughing and leaning closer.

"Life taught me to be this way."

"Stop that," he says, chuckling. "A few hours with Amber and you’re already just like her."

"We're friends. We have a date together on Friday!"

"I don’t know what to think, but I’m glad."

"Yeah, it's going to be fun," you smile.

"So, I've been thinking… actually, I heard some comments today about last Saturday."

"Yeah, I heard about it too. Apparently, you can still be the talk of the campus at any occasion."

"Oh, Y/N, you know not everyone cares about that. The ones who talk the most are the ones close to you or who want to be."

"I know, I was one of those people, remember? You can be sure I didn’t care at all about what you did or didn’t do until we had to work together."

"Yeah, if it weren't for social psychology, we might never have even exchanged a hello." That wasn’t exactly true. "Anyway, it turns out everyone thinks it was just that. Just a fling."

"Hm, what do you suggest?"

Tom smirked and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Time to make it Instagram official."

"How do you want me?" you asked, and he stared at you, a new smirk appearing. "Not like that, you perv! You know what I meant."

He laughed and got up, offering his hand to help you up from the bed.

"I'll lead you," he says.

You both walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window in his room, the sunset bathing the space in natural light. Tom positioned you in front of him and wrapped one arm around your shoulders.

"Okay, now turn your face to the left. Pretend you’re distracted." You did as he asked.

Tom's free hand held the phone in front of both of you.

"Got it. I think we have the picture for the official announcement," he said a moment later, pointing the phone to catch your attention.

In the photo, Tom's face was resting on your head, his arm wrapped around you while you pretended to look at something in the distance.

"Tom, do you think this is good?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"This looks so forced."

"What a lie. I've never taken a more perfect couple photo." You put your hands on your head when you heard him say that.

"Thomas… you've never taken a couple's photo in your life!"

Tom might have posed with countless girls at parties and other events, but none of them carried any deeper feeling.

"Well, it's what we have." He clicked a bit more on the phone screen. "Done, I even tagged you. Are you going to repost?" He said just as you heard the sound of a notification coming from your phone on his bed.

"We should have taken another one."

"Y/N, then it will look forced. It needs to be natural."

"Ha, and you think this is natural?"

"Stop complaining."

You huffed and returned to his bed, grabbing your phone and opening the app.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to repost it because you didn't like it…" he says lightly.

"That's not it, Tommy." You meet his gaze, lowering your phone. "It's just that all my acquaintances are going to see it. And it will be real. My family, friends from home. I know that was the plan and what we agreed on, but I just don’t know…"

Tom moved closer to you and cupped your face in his hands.

"Hey, any time you want to stop, that's fine! I’ve already told you I’m not going to force you into anything. Just say the word, and it's over."

You let out a breath and rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"You too, Tommy. At any moment." You said, your voice muffled by his shirt pressing against your face.

A few seconds later, you slipped out of his arms and reposted the photo, blocking and silencing your phone immediately afterward.

"See? That wasn’t so hard. We’ll deal with the consequences later." He laughed softly. "Now let’s go, we need to get there early if we want to leave early."

Even though it was a Monday, Tom had managed to convince you to go out with some of his friends to celebrate the start of the new game season. The only condition you had set was not staying out too late. They had decided to meet up at a bowling alley for the night.

When you both arrived, Harrison and his date for the night Jessie along with Tyler, and his girlfriend Mabel were already there, having reserved a lane for the game.

Harrison started the game, followed by Tyler and Mabel, who asked her boyfriend for help with the only move needed in bowling. Next up was Jessie, who made the same request to Harrison—good first-date strategy.

"Ok, smartiepants, your turn," Tom said turning to you, pointing to the lane.

You got up from the couch in your section and walked over to the platform to choose the ball you'd use.

"Tommy, you're not being very smart right now," Tyler said, pointing in your direction.

"What do you mean?"

"Be a gentleman; your girlfriend is about to bowl. Don't you think you should help her?"

Tom laughed loudly. "My girl? Oh, she doesn't need help. She knows what to do."

And as if you sensed his words even without hearing them, you knocked down all 10 pins in one go, making him shout in celebration.

"That's what I'm talking about!"

The night continued, and Harrison emerged as the winner of the game, receiving victory kisses from Jessie. Before heading out, everyone decided to grab a quick snack at the same bowling alley.

After a while of laughter, you said goodbye to the group and everyone went their separate ways.

"I have to admit, these people aren't so bad." You say as you buckle your seatbelt and Tom starts the car.

"Yeah, Tyler and Harrison are my closest friends, which is why I wanted you to come tonight. I know some of the guys on the team can be jerks, but a few of them are worth it."

"The girls were really nice too, even with their performance of not knowing how to play and getting all cozy with the guys," you say, laughing.

"I don't know about Jessie, but Mabel has been with Tyler for a while, so it's likely you'll see her again," he replied.

"Hm, I wish Amber had come," you said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Haz said she was busy, that's why she couldn't make it."

"I see…"

"Hey." Tom called your attention, placing his hand over yours. "Don't think too much about it; that's Amber for you. She has a strong personality and is very intense. And she gets scared by things she can't control."

A few minutes later, Tom parked in front of your apartment.

"Have you checked your phone?" he asked, and you shook your head in response.

"It's been on silent since we left your place."

"Y/N, I'm here for you. You know that."

"I really appreciate you, Tom. I know you have your reasons for being part of this craziness we've gotten into, but seriously, thank you."

"Anytime, smartiepants." You smiled at him.

"I'm going now."

Before you could open the car door, Tom held your hand. "Wait, Y/N."

"What?" You looked at him.

"I need to ask you… about the party, what happened at the party." he said. "I don't… what was that?"

"Tom, I'm not understanding."

"We… we kissed."

"Oh, about that." You looked away. "I know you didn't expect it, but… when I came back from the bathroom with Amber, everyone was saying you had gone somewhere with Taylor, and when I went to look for you, I bumped into her, and she started saying all sorts of things, and I wasn't exactly in my most sober state either."

He didn’t respond and let go of your hand.

"I know we hadn’t agreed on anything, but it felt like the right thing to do at the moment. I needed to prove that we were together there."

Tom continued in silence, staring at the road ahead.

"I'm sorry. We talked briefly about this, and I thought…"

"So it was an act?" he asked. "Just to prove we were together?"

"Well, yes. It’s not what we usually do when we’re together," you replied uncertainly. "But Tom, if that bothered you, let’s set some boundaries. It's funny because you joked about it yourself and…"

"No, it's fine. You don’t need to. Just… I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" he said.

"Alright, drive safe," you said before getting out of the car and watching him drive away.

As you lay down and finally allowed yourself to check your phone, you felt a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Notifications began to pop up on your phone, and you quickly realized that the repost of the photo with Tom had generated a lot of attention. Messages from friends and acquaintances started flooding your feed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the positive reactions.

Your sister replied with a simple "WTF?"

You couldn’t avoid feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Your relationship with Tom was becoming more real every day, and it brought a whirlwind of emotions.

Among the messages, one notification caught your attention: a direct message from Amber. “I saw the photo! I’m so happy for you. Let’s talk soon?”

You smiled as you read the message and felt relieved. But one notification, in particular, caught your attention even more.

Sean: Seems like I wasn’t wrong after all.

Seeing that message from Sean made your heart skip a beat. You hadn’t expected him to reach out, especially not like this.

TAGLIST: @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @un06 @lnmp89 @hoodharlow @let-me-luve-you @erule @smoofine @smile2345 @itsdoni @helen-on-earth @kagtobis @appleypi @jennifersworldsblog @marajillana @hufflepuff-n-fluff @aol19 @milasexutoire @watarmelon212 @miniaturetreecollectorfan-blog @twsssmlmaa @drquinnzel0217qqqqqqqqqqq @purplerose291 @princessria127 @jackiehollanderr

[gwynethshadowsinger]

My Thoughts about the Bonus Chapter(s)

Feysand - Happens around Ch. 22 (I think)

I do think everyone has spent a long time assuming Elain is sweet and innocent and that we will end up seeing a different side emerge when it's time for her story to be told. I think she's a lot like Lucien. Willing to stand back, but won't be afraid to step in and show that other side when needed. She'll access her surroundings beforehand, though, and act accordingly. Almost like a sly fox just waiting for their moment 👀

Feyre is right. If Elain had been wearing the gloves Lucien had gifted her the previous Solstice, she wouldn't have gotten hurt by that stubborn rosebush. Is this particular phrasing some type of foreshadowing for Elucien? Will Lucien protect her from any and all harm if she's just let him in instead of running away?

I loved finding out where the baby's name came from 😍

Azriel - Happens around Ch. 58/59 (I believe)

Poor Azriel. He just wants a mate and what Rhysand and Cassian has 😭

I didn't much care for his interaction with Elain. It felt wrong and off. He's full of negative, only sexual emotions, and him being around her is not good for him.

Azriel shouldn't be trying to go after a female who has not rejected the bond, especially knowing how he holds the mating bond in regard.

I also didn't like how Elain was willing to let Azriel kiss her so close to her (supposed) sleeping mate. Both of them were in the wrong here.

That rose necklace..... Elain was hurt once again by something with roses. This is the second time Sarah has mentioned her being hurt by something with roses. That's gotta be intentional on her part. Maybe Elain will give Lucien a chance now? I doubt she'd end up hurt by him. He's done everything to respect her and is just waiting on her to come to him. I really hope she does.

Rhysand asked all the right questions 👏

The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another. Boy... you couldn't even say Elain's name?!?! The Cauldron also only turned two sisters. Not three.... so he's already way off base....

Azriel admitted he didn't get far with his planning, certainly never behond the fantasies he pleasures himself to after saying Lucien would never be good enough for her...well that absolutely killed any lingering thoughts I had about a potential pairing between him and Elain. Yuck. I'd want a man to think of more than just sex and for his own sexual purposes. Lucien so far is the ONLY male good enough for Elain.

He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he'd been right to do so.

His interaction with Gwyn was 😍😍😍😍

I LOVE the shadow's reaction around Gwyn. How they dance with her breath. How they were calm and content to sit on Azriel's shoulders after something restless settled in Azriel. How they SUNG BACK IN ANSWER!!! If that isn't major foreshadowing, idk what is.

I'm insanely proud of how far Gwyn has came to.

Again...the necklace.... while I HATE he regifted it... I love this ending to the bonus chapter. How he found himself in front of Clotho, unconsciously.. almost like he was drawn by something 👀

He might not consider Gwyn a friend, BUT.... I say that might change in a big way.

THAT ENDING!!! The SPARK ✨️ The PICTURING OF GWYN'S EYES LIGHTING UP. THE TUCKING THE THOUGHT AND PICTURE AWAY DEEP DOWN WHERE IT GLOWED QUIETLY. THE SLIGHT SMILE THAT ACTION CAUSED THAT HE HAD TO CONCSCIOUSLY ERASE... OMG ARE THEY GOING TO BEMATES?!?!?!

A THING OF SECRET, LOVELY BEAUTY!!!! AHHH!!!!

These bonus chapters totally made me 100% an Elucien & Gwynriel supporter.