#I was going to tag this with “Clara what the fuck are you talking about” but I'm like 99.9% serious with this one

[aqueousablution]

He/him aroace tgirl MMZ-era Zero. You agree.

[falindankovsky]

Look I fundamentally understand why they’ve opted to remove survival/combat mechanics from p3 but like…I’m so sad that means I can’t occur a random bloodlust again!

[babyonboard]

Ultraviolence | part 2

Bradley Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake Seresin

click here to read part 1!

Summary: You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake Seresin was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no kind to. At least that’s how it used to be.

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, infidelity, Bradley sucks, angst, smut, oral, choking, Jake Seresin has a praise kink because I said so, a little redhead slander (I am so sorry if you’re ginger).

Announcement: Yes I know part one came out a year ago. Yes I know nobody cares anymore. I want to get back into writing again and this has been sitting in my drafts for so long.

It had been 2 weeks, and you hadn’t confronted Bradley. But, in terms of how he’s been treating you, it’s been paradise. Things were back to how they used to be, or at least that's how it looked on the surface. You wondered if the girl he was cheating with is still in the picture or not. You wondered about her a lot. It was really hard to not think about her. In fact, you thought about her so much that you had a clear picture of what you thought she looked like in your mind. Of course, she’s blonde. Shiny, silky, long blonde hair. She’s slightly shorter than you, with a slightly better figure. Her tits were bigger than yours, and her stomach is flatter. She had a bright white smile and a bubbly personality. 

You hated her. But you also felt sorry for her. 

Jake had been literally blowing up your phone. He called and texted you so many times. You responded at first, saying you hadn’t confronted Bradley yet, but you were going to. He asked you every day after that if you had done it yet, and you never responded. The only other text you responded to was when he said he was worried that something happened and you needed help. It was embarrassing, that’s the real reason you didn’t want to talk to him. It was embarrassing that you were prioritizing guilty attention over your own self respect. 

One day when Bradley got home from work, he was pissed. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked from the couch as he kicked his shoes off. 

“Hangman’s just the same fucking dick he’s always been.” He mumbled.

At this point, you were all ears. “What’d he do?” You set your book down on your chest..

He shook his head. “Always in everyones fucking business.” He grumbled and went into the kitchen.

Interesting. You pulled your phone out and went to text Jake to ask him what he did, but when you opened his contact, you saw that he had texted you this morning and you didn’t see it.

Since you’re not gonna call him on it, I will.

On your day off, Bradley asked if you could bring his laptop to work because he forgot it. Of course, you eagerly got in the car and drove it to him. When you entered the office building on the base, you tried to remember your way around. And because you fucking deserve it, because of some kind of weird karma from the universe, Jake was the first person you saw.

“Hey.” He said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. You half smiled and gave him a nod, hoping that was the end of the interaction. It wasn’t.

He came closer to you, ducking his head like he was trying to be secretive. “Can I talk to you?” He said softly. His presence made you want to break down crying in his arms. It made you resent Bradley in a way that was unlike you.

“Jake, no. Not now.” You shook your head, trying to move around him. He blocked you and you gave up all too easily. 

His hand came up to your shoulder, resting it softly on you. He towered over you, but he was still so gentle. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but you never answer. Me and Nat saw that girl with Bradley again, they were in his car, and we were able to find her on facebook. Her names Clara and-”

“God, you're a lifesaver.” Bradley groaned in delight, entering the lobby. Both of your heads whipped in that direction. You forced a smile and laughed, shrugging Jake’s hand off of your shoulder. As Bradley walked closer, you and Jake looked at each other. His eyes had sympathy and a little bit of anger, and yours said don’t-say-another-fucking-word. You could tell it made Bradley physically uncomfortable that you and Jake were talking to each other. Actually, the energy in that room made all three of you uncomfortable. It also made him uncomfortable that neither of you were saying anything. “Did I miss something?” 

“No! No, here you go.” You held his laptop out to him, forcing a smile. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your forehead. You were so embarrassed you almost recoiled when he touched you. 

“I was just gonna show her where your office was. She looked lost.” Jake’s voice was noticeably different. It's almost like it went back to normal, he sounded so much softer when he talked to you.

The tension between Bradley and Jake was intense. They both had an obvious dislike for each other that was never there before.

“You wanna see my office, babe?” He looked down at you. You nodded enthusiastically. 

“See ya Hangman.” He said, pulling you away from the magnetic force of a man that is Jake Seresin. 

Back in Bradley’s office, you felt sick to your stomach. From the little information you were able to hear, he is not done with that girl. And now, you have a name to put to that stupid fucking face that you can’t stop thinking about. Leaning against Bradleys desk, you couldn’t help but stare at the picture of the two of you that sat front and center. It was from your wedding. You were both laughing, wrapped completely around each other. The happiness that you had in that picture, the happiness that was in endless supply, surrounding you every second of every day, was nowhere to be found now. You haven’t seen it for a while. 

It was different this time. When you first found out he cheated, you were sad. Cried whenever he wasn’t around, threw up, the whole nine yards. Now, just finding out that it is still going on, you were mad. So mad it was almost funny. For some strange reason, you wanted to laugh. An anger unlike anything you have ever felt in your entire life brewed in each and every cell of your body. It was white hot and it was making you sweat.

Sitting down at his desk, Bradley’s eyes were on you. “Are you okay?” His voice was worried, like he might be in trouble if you’re not. “You look sick.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine” You smiled. The familiar feeling in your stomach, the same one you got when Jake had first told you, started crawling up your throat. You were absolutely disgusted by him and it was making you sick to look at him. 

He reached out and touched your leg. “Come here.” He spoke softly.

You pushed off of the desk and away from his hand. “I have to go. I have a call- a work call- in a little bit.” You scrambled for an excuse. 

“Oh.” He said.

Backing up towards the door, he looked increasingly worried with each step you took. “Bye, see you at home.” You said, giving him no time to respond or question as you walked out. Out in the hallway, you could finally breathe. You stood still for a few moments, the cool air conditioning of the building filling your lungs as you took long, deep breaths. This time is different. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s happily letting it happen. You were fucking done with him. Your legs started working again and you made your way down the eerily quiet hallway. That place feels like a museum, everything looks clean and untouched. 

As you were inspecting the cleanliness while you walked, you stopped in your tracks when you read “Lt. Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin”. This was his office. You looked around the hallway, saw nobody, then knocked lightly. “Come in.” You heard his muffled voice say on the other side. The door clicked as you opened it, peaking your head inside like you thought you would be bothering him if you came in. He was standing behind his desk with papers in his hands. When he saw you, his posture and his eyes softened. He dropped the papers onto his desk.

“Hey.” You said, still not fully stepping into the room. 

“Come sit.” He said. You shut the door behind you and you were finally able to let your guard down. You took a shaky breath and walked over to his desk. Not wanting to intrude, not wanting to make yourself at home, you stayed standing. 

You cleared your throat. More than anything, you wanted answers. “Can I see a picture of her?” 

He started walking around to meet you on the other side of his desk. His desk was much more neat than Bradley’s. Bradley’s was littered with pictures and trinkets and notes. Jake had a couple of awards on display off to the side, and that was mostly it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Jake. Please.” You pleaded, trying to be as stern as you could even though your voice shook.

He looked down to the ground. Without a word, he pulled his phone out of his back pocket. It was silent as he typed a few words and your stomach started to twist again. 

He cleared his throat. “Here.” He had her facebook page pulled up.

To your surprise, she was not blonde. Well at least not all the way. She had strawberry blonde hair and dark eyes. And of fucking course, she had dimples. But the biggest thing that stood out was how young she looked. With a second more of scrolling, you saw “UCLA class of 21” in her bio. “Class of 21?” You gasped. You and Bradley were both 30. She was 22 at most. That pissed you off even more, you felt like you couldn’t even see straight. 

Jake grabbed the phone out of your hands. “That’s enough.” He said, putting it back in his pocket. You saw her full name, it’s burned into the back of your eyelids, you could look her up later. 

It was quiet again. Jake didn’t know what to say. He had a million things he wanted to say, but none of them were a good idea right now. 

“I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” You admitted shamefully.

“Y/N.” He sighed “Don’t say you’re sorry, none of this is your fault.”

Looking down at the ground, you were unable to meet his eyes. “I don’t know. She’s so pretty and she-”

“Hey.” His voice was stern, it made you flinch. His hand came up to your chin and lifted your head to look at him. “This was not about you. This is about Bradley being selfish. You are prettier than her. You understand me?” His hand was still gripping your chin. You nodded, eyes locked in his. “You are so god damn beautiful, and Bradley is fucking crazy for not giving you the world.” His grip got softer as he spoke that sentence, but he didn’t move his hand. “Got it?” He asked.

“Yes.” You agree softly. He was breathing hard and his jaw clenched like he was mad. Not that you would ever admit it, but it was sexy. Your knees started to feel weak. Jake has an effect on you that Bradley never did. Right now, it felt like Jake knew that. That he knew he had some otherworldly effect on you and your knees were getting weaker by the millisecond. 

“You promise?” He spoke, almost in a whisper. You realized he had dipped his head down at some point, and you tilted yours up. 

“Yes, Jake.” You whispered back. You could feel his breath on your lips, making your eyes flicker down at his. Now you couldn’t look up. 

Within seconds, everything that Bradley had done to you flashed through your mind in a blur. The most prominent image was him with that 22 year old fucking ginger underneath him. It only made sense to tip your head up further to kiss Jake. 

When Jake first found out about the other woman, he knew this day would come, and he swore he wouldn’t take it too far when it did. But right now, now that your warm lips were touching his and he could taste the toothpaste on your tongue and it felt like his whole body was completely lit up, he didn’t know if he could stop himself.

It felt good in so many different ways. It felt good, like a sort of revenge against Bradley. It felt good to be kissed by someone who actually wanted you. And it felt so good because it was Jake. 

His hand on your jaw threaded back through your hair, his other pulled you fully against him. He kissed you eagerly, like he couldn’t get enough. Your heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it was about to explode out of your chest, like your whole body was struck by lightning and each one of your nerve endings was on fire. It was feverish and nerve wracking and wrong but so fucking right. He backed you up until the back of your thighs hit the edge of his desk, making the desk shift slightly on the floor. Both of his large hands cupped your face, his fingers reaching to the back of your neck. 

His hips pushed yours back even further; he wanted you on his desk. Of course, you complied. His big, shiny desk creaked as you adjusted yourself on it and opened your legs to let him stand in between them. Your shorts rode up your thighs and his hands were on that exposed skin immediately. The only sound in the room was both of your heavy breathing. Your tongue swiped along his bottom lip, which he took as a green light to stick his tongue in your mouth. This was the most exhilarated you had felt in years. It was different from the many make out sessions you had with Bradley throughout your life, it was so much more intense. There was so much more meaning behind it, so much fire. 

It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that Jake is rough in nature, especially in bed. Oddly enough, he was taking it easy on you thus far. That is until you felt his fingers graze against your neck, seemingly testing the waters. You tried to kiss him harder, tried to say yes without actually saying it. He must’ve got the message, his huge hand covered your throat, his fingers wrapping around it. It wasn’t choking as much as it was holding you in place. His teeth pulling your lip made a short whine come from the back of your throat, completely unintentionally. This made him rip his lips away from yours, his hand still holding your throat. 

He held your face an inch away from his. “Did you lock the door?” He sounded so different, his voice was so much deeper, so much darker than normal.

You managed to shake your head within his grasp. The door isn’t locked, there is no way you could have predicted this was going to happen when you walked in 10 minutes ago. It was logical to assume he was going to go lock it, your husband was literally two doors away. Jake Seresin is anything but logical, you should know this by now. He kissed you again, so much dirtier this time. Wasting zero time, his hands were back on your thighs. Unexpectedly, your legs were lifted off the desk and pulled forward, leaving you laying on the desk. Jake pulling your shorts and underwear down your legs, kneeling as he did so, was a sight to fucking behold. 

A loud sigh left his mouth as he set his gaze on your pussy. It was nothing short of heavenly, celestial even. For the last 8 years, you were forbidden fruit, and now he’s on his knees right in front of you, ready to taste you, ready to sin. 

Stopping didn’t cross your mind once. Actually the only thing on your mind the whole time was more. It wasn’t even revenge at this point, it was desire in its purest form. Papers on his desk shifted under your hair, a few of them slipping onto the floor, not that you noticed. 

Slowly, almost experimentally, he runs a single finger through your slit. It struck you that it was gonna be really hard to stay quiet. “You this wet for me?” He faked flattery, pulling his finger away. 

“Jake, please.” You whined. Trying to get him to do something, you lifted your legs up so your calves rested on your shoulders. 

“I wanna take my time with you.” He pressed a kiss to your clit, the light touch sending jolts throughout your whole body. “Give you what you deserve.”

Apparently, ‘taking his time with you’ meant diving into you and going absolutely feral. It was feverish, the way he licked and sucked you was so greedy. There was no time for you to feel bad about squeezing his head between your thighs, but you suspected he liked it anyway. He does. His nails dug into your thighs so he could hold onto you for leverage. There was no way of telling if he was sucking or biting your clit, but whatever it was, it made your vision blurry and your thoughts completely disappear. It was necessary for one of your hands to cover your mouth or else this whole office would know how good Jake is. 

All this time, his cockiness was not for nothing. You understood why he had girls obsessed and delusional, you would do the same for this treatment. Maybe he’s had a lot of practice, but there is no way he is this fierce with every other girl. He was making you feel like you were the only girl in the world, like your head was spinning. He didn’t use his fingers, he really didn’t need to, his mouth already had you fighting to not cum so quickly. Ever intuitive, the only time he broke away from you was to say “Give it to me” against you. His deep voice sent vibrations through your core to your fingertips. The bright fluorescent light above you seemed to expand as your vision went white. The air left your lungs, your head spun, every muscle in your body tensed. His tongue worked you through your orgasm perfectly, and he let you grind against him as you hit your peak. “Good fucking girl.” He moaned against you.

Once he was positive you were done, he reluctantly pulled away. If he had it his way, he would keep you just like this all day. You couldn’t sit up yet, all you could do was lay there and catch your breath. 

Jake knew this was bad. Not because you were his best friend's wife, but because now he had a taste and he knows he won’t be able to stop any time soon. He picked your underwear up off of the floor and gently slid them onto your shaky legs. You let him dress you again, eyes still closed. When he was done, you sat up and the look he gave you was nothing short of sinister. 

He leaned his hands on the desk on either side of you, looking at you like he wanted you to say something. You brought your hands up to either side of his face and kissed him in response, words could not do what he just did to you justice. This kiss was much slower than the rest, he let you taste yourself on his lips. 

Two voices talking in the hallway passed his door, making the two of you jump apart. The voices faded down the hallway, leaving the two of you tensed. For a second, the only thing either of you could do was look at each other. Every emotion possible coursed through your body, and you didn’t know whether to smile or cry or laugh or kiss him again. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” He finally spoke, stunned and shakily. “I didn’t think that was actually ever gonna happen.”

That made you smile. He had thought about it before, which came as no surprise. The cold air of the office washed over you, bringing you back into reality. “You are…” Words failed you, nothing could describe how you felt. “So good.”

Of course, his cocky smile made an appearance. You could no longer judge him for it, he has every right in the world to be cocky. “You better leave before your husband sees you here.” He backed up to let you get off his desk. 

“Yeah.” You agreed begrudgingly, looking down at the ground. You got a sight of your legs, your thighs were glistening and there were nail marks in them. 

As you stepped away from him, he grabbed your arm. “This isn’t a one time thing. At least not for me.” He spoke inches from your ear. “And lock the door next time.”

You swallowed. “Okay.” 

Back at home, you had 2 hours before Bradley got back. You had done your mourning of the relationship, you had spent your time wishing Bradley was different for weeks. Wishing he was sorry. But he’s not. And he’s never going to be. You could continue to be sad, continue to be a victim, continue to cry every day. But there were some other options.

A quick google search of the name that was burned into the back of your eyelids; Clara Bitner, you found her facebook. There was a time where you felt sorry for her. Bradley had obviously lied to her and she got caught up in something she didn’t even understand, so she was probably hurt too. But now that you know she has chosen to continue seeing your husband when she knows he’s married, you hate her. It’s so unfortunate that she was pretty. It would help if you could look at her pictures and say she was ugly, but that wasn’t an option. She had long strawberry blonde hair with deep brown eyes and classic southern charm. She was from Tennessee, but she went to UCLA, and now she’s a kindergarten teacher. “Of fucking course.” You scoffed at her occupation. Is there anything bad about this girl? She had a lot of friends and she lived in a beach condo maybe 20 minutes from here. You had been scrolling for a while, and a certain picture made you stop in your fucking tracks. It was a picture from her 22nd birthday dinner, all of her friends sitting around the table smiling, and there was Bradley. He was sitting next to her with his hand resting on her leg, with a huge fucking smile on his face. It was posted 4 months ago. If he was important to her enough to go to her birthday dinner four months ago, you didn’t want to know how long they had been seeing each other. 

How did he have time for this? This wasn’t a hook up, it wasn’t an affair, it was a second life. You began to think about all of the flight tours, weekend trips, and week long missions he had gone on in the past year. How many of those were lies?

Your marriage is completely ruined, 100% done. You could mope about it. Or you could keep having fun of your own.

By the time you heard the garage door opening, you were in the kitchen making dinner. You played the song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton because it was ironic and weirdly specific to your life right now. And it was just plain funny. 

 The front door opened and you turned the volume up. “Hey baby!” He shouted from the front of the house.

“Hi!” You said. Acting normal was going to be harder than you thought. You heard him playing with the dogs for a moment, baby talking and petting them. 

His footsteps approached the kitchen and you took a deep breath. “God, you look sexy.” He said.

You were wearing shorts and a t-shirt and no makeup. You brushed off his comment as guilty flattery.

He came up and you had to brace yourself. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed the side of your neck. It made you fucking sick. 

Not replying, you started humming along to the music. He swayed with you for a moment so you started singing.

You’re beauty is beyond compare,

With flaming locks of auburn hair,

Ivory skin, and eyes of emerald green.

“I love this song.” You stated. 

“Mhm. Dolly’s the best.” He unwrapped his arms from you.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man.

He side eyed you and you stared right back at him. Yet, in perfect Bradley nature, he played it cool, walking to the other side of the counter.

“Poor Dolly.” You sighed. “Especially since that bitch Jolene is ginger. That just plain sucks, getting cheated on with a red head.” Trying to focus on the pot you were stirring, you couldn’t help but look up at him. His tongue was in his cheek and he had a terrified glint in his eyes.

“What?” You asked innocently.

“Nothin’.” He shook his head and walked away. 

This was kinda fun.

“You have any plans tonight?” You asked Bradley over dinner. It was a Friday, so you figured he was going somewhere, be it with Clara or not.

“Eh, Jake and Javy wanna go watch the game at a bar, I’ll probably go.” He said. “D’ you?”

That was probably a lie. “I think Jenna wants me to come meet her baby, so I’ll probably go over there. Plus she said she needs a wine night.” Jenna was your coworker, and she hasn’t even had her baby yet. It was so empowering to lie back.

While Bradley did the dishes, you got out your phone to clear some things up.

Are you hanging out with Bradley tonight?

“What time do you think you’re gonna go?” You asked from the table. His eyes were on the dishes and it was incredible how he lied so often without flinching while it made your adrenaline rush and your heart pound. 

“7:30, 8?” He said. 

No? Is he saying I am?

The feeling you got was the perfect definition of disappointed but not surprised. It’s a confirmed lie now. “Okay, that’s probably what time I’ll leave too.”

Yes. He’s leaving at 8. Can I come over then?

Of course.

Were you doing this purely to get back at Bradley? No, not entirely. That was a huge driving factor in your actual actions towards Jake, but you’ve always wanted to, so part of it is something you’ve always wanted. 

Not long after dinner was cleaned up, Bradley was kissing your forehead and heading out the door. You watched out the window as his car pulled out of the driveway, and once it disappeared down the street, you rushed up to your room. There was a lacy black bra and thong set you had just bought waiting for you in your closet. Once you pulled it on, you admired yourself in the mirror. If Bradley won’t appreciate it, Jake sure will. You exchanged your t-shirt for a sweatshirt, you didn’t want to look like you were trying. Obviously, you were. 

After spraying yourself with perfume and taking too long to decide what scent of lotion you wanted to use, you nearly ran down stairs and slipped your shoes on. A quick goodbye to the dogs and you were out the door. It seemed that every time you drove to Jake’s you were rushing. While you were driving you thought about what you were going to do when you got there, fully intending to be bold and get straight to it. The fluttering nervousness in your stomach made you feel like you were a teenager again, you hadn’t been nervous to see a boy in years. When you pulled in the driveway, the boldness started to fade out, and you almost felt shy. There was a split second where you felt guilty, your conscience waved a huge red flag and your brain told you this was wrong. One thought about where Bradley actually was right now, and you swung the car door open and got out. The thought that Bradley probably just got to Clara’s fueled your steps, and by the time you made it to the front door, you were seething. Hopefully Bradley has fun tonight, because you sure will.

Despite the vengeance coursing through your body, you knocked lightly on the door. All too quickly, the lock clicked and the door opened. “Hey, Y/N.” Jake said casually, like you weren’t his best friend's wife. He was freshly showered, his hair was still a little damp. He wore gray sweatpants and a white shirt that was entirely too tight around his biceps. 

“Hi.” You said simply. He stepped back, allowing you to come in. It was quiet, and when he turned around to face you, there was an unmistakable anticipation present. It made a shiver run up your spine and goosebumps breakout on your arms. He nodded his head as a way to say ‘follow me’, and started leading you through the house. Silence still hung in the air. It felt like a volcano waiting to explode, like the calm before a storm. 

You made it to his room, and your heartbeat started to speed up. It was getting real now. You had never seen his room before, but it’s just as nice as you expected. Jake has expensive taste, and his whole house reflects that. His bed was lazily made, but the rest of the room was spotless. 

He reached his bed and sat down on the end of it. The way his hooded eyelids cast a shadow over his eyes made you notice how dark the lighting was in there. Unsure of what to do, you just stood and looked at him. He led you here without a word, he should know what to do now. 

“Come here.” He said darkly, the voice you heard in his office earlier that day made a return. He spread his legs open so you could stand between them, a complete contrast to what happened on his desk. You still hadn’t said a word since you walked in the house, but you didn’t need to, your body said it all. The back of your thighs fit perfectly in his hands, and his shoulders fit perfectly in yours. His huge warm hands on the back of your legs made you want to melt into the floor. “Do you want this?” He asked, looking up at you. 

Bradleys face flashed in your mind. So did Clara’s. You nodded.

“Say it.” His grip tightened on your thighs. 

“I want it.”

“You want what?” He was really making you work for it, apparently.

You went to say it, but you hesitated. It sounded worse out loud. “I want you to fuck me.”

You swear his eyes changed in that instant. He let go of your thighs and pushed you back lightly, confusing you for a moment. “Strip.” He said. Heart in your throat, your jaw could’ve dropped to the floor. This was a lot. But you liked it. 

Taking a deep breath, you started by kicking your shoes off. It only felt right to tease him, so you toyed with the rim of your sweatshirt for a moment. You slowly lifted it over your head, taking your sweet time. When you finally got it off, you heard him exhale. You secretly thanked yourself for wearing such a nice bra. The dim lighting made his face darker, but you could still see the pure lust in his eyes. Next, you hooked your finger in your shorts and pulled them down, revealing the underwear you picked out just for him. Once you kicked your shorts off of your feet, you reached your hand behind your back to unclip your bra.

“Leave it.” He said. You dropped your hands and let him look at you. He reached his hand out to you, making you step forward and grab it. As he was pulling you towards him, his eyes moved all over your body. “You pick these out for me or for him?” 

Your face grew hot. “You.” You replied softly, your hand still in his. He used his grip on your hand to pull you down to kiss him. It was searing, and for a second, both of you reveled in the feeling. Without him having to ask, you climbed on top of him, stradling your legs on either side of him. When your core felt how hard he was under his sweatpants, it made your whole body twitch. If that’s what simply feeling him through his clothes felt like, you had no idea what was going to happen when he actually fucked you. He must have felt it too, his hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him. 

Things were moving quickly, but it was still entirely too slow. He flipped you over onto your back and sat up to take his shirt off. This was by far not the first time you had seen Jake with his shirt off, but by god, it was the best. Maybe he was flexing, but you didn't care. He was sculpted like an angel, like there wasn’t a single flaw about his body. His hair got messed up when his shirt was pulled over it, it ruffled the top. It only made him look hotter. It was hard to not notice his dick through his gray sweatpants, and simply the size of his bulge made you nervous. When he bent back down to meet your lips, you kissed him in a rushed manner. It was beyond the point of wanting him, you needed him. “You want my mouth again?” He asked against your lips.

The thought made your eyes roll back in your head. Yes, you undoubtedly wanted his mouth, but you needed him inside you more. You hooked your fingers in his waistband and shook your head. He got the message, but that didn’t mean he was going to give you what you wanted right away. He used both of his hands to pull your underwear down. “Slutty fuckin’ panties.” He mumbled. Your lips met again and it felt like you couldn’t spread your legs any wider for him. Without warning, without a single preliminary touch, he stuck two of his fingers inside of you. This earned a theatrical reaction from you, like it was the first time someone has touched you that way. While it wasn’t the first time by a long shot, it somehow felt like it was, you had never been touched like this. 

“Jake” Was the only thing you could get out of your mouth as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. When you tilted your head back to moan, he took the opportunity to kiss your neck. He felt like he wanted to moan more than you did. His mouth sloppily worked its way down your neck and onto your chest. It would have been smart to ask him not to leave any marks on you, but you didn’t care one bit anymore. Not while his teeth were pulling your bra down. He sucked one of your nipples into your mouth, his fingers were still moving in and out of you. 

“You’re so perfect” He mumbled against your chest. You had never felt a complement that sounded so sincere, just the sound of him saying that made you feel perfect. Under his touch, under his body, under his lips, you were perfect. His fingers curled inside you and your back couldn’t arch any higher, your whimpers couldn’t get any more desperate. He used his arm next to your head to sit up, looking you up and down. His eyes roaming your body didn’t make you insecure or shy, they just riled you up even more. 

His fingers were amazing, but they could only do so much. You both knew what you really wanted. “Please Jake. Please fuck me.” You cried. With one last particularly harsh curl of his fingers, he pulled his fingers out of you. He brought his fingers up to your lips, only having to brush your wetness onto your lips for a second before you sucked them into your mouth without thinking. A low groan came from the back of his throat when you gagged on his fingers, licking your own slick off of him. 

He let his fingers stay in your mouth for longer than they needed to be, purely for the way you looked while taking them. Your eyes bore into his the whole time, and you thought that if he was going to humor himself with this for any longer, you were going to take matters into your own hands. The tips of your nails dragged down his chest, over his stomach, and to the waist of his sweatpants. Teasing was an option, but you couldn’t anymore, your hands gripped his sweats as you pulled them down. While doing so, a realization crossed your mind; he isn’t wearing any underwear. That’s Jake, ever classy. 

He enjoyed letting you do the work, so he leaned down to taste your wetness on your lips. His tongue licked into your mouth, trying to collect anything that was left; the taste of you was addicting, he had gotten a taste in his office earlier, and he knew he was already addicted. You didn’t see his dick right away, but you felt it when you wrapped your hand around it. When you realized how thick he was, your heart fluttered. He was thicker than anything you had ever taken, thicker than your husband. A moan slipped from your mouth into his, and that was his tipping point. Before you could make any further moves, both of your hands were pinned above your head with only one of his. He used the other to pull his sweatpants down further, then line himself up with you. The sound of his breathing was loud as he slid his tip up and down your slit, making you squirm. “God,” he shook his head, his eyes glued to your pussy “you are so fucking wet.”

“Because I’m with you.” You said. It sounded like a simple observation to you, but to Jake it meant that you wanted him, you have always wanted him, the way that he has always wanted you. It meant that you were this wet every time you were around him, the way that he was rock solid every time he was around you. That thought was his breaking point, there was no teasing left that he could do, he slid himself inside of you. You knew that he would stretch you, but the feeling still surprised you. 

“Oh my god.” You whined as he bottomed out. He stopped all of the way inside of you, partially to let you adjust, and partially to revel in the feeling of being inside you. Everything was hazy, his vision, his mind, but he still was able to think about how long he had wanted this. Just the thought of seeing you with Bradley at the bars every weekend, and the fact that you were now underneath him, was enough to make him want to cum. Sweat started to bead on his forehead, and he decided to wait a little longer to start moving, his hand came up to hold your jaw, making you look at him. “You’re so big.” You croaked under his touch. 

His lips were an inch from yours, you could feel his breath. “Take it.” He spat. With that, he started to move. Even with your head against his pillows, you felt lightheaded and your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled all of the way out and went slowly back in. From there, he was no longer slow. It only took seconds for his pace to quicken, until his skin was slapping into yours and the sound was infiltrating your ears. The stretch definitely hurt, but the pain was mixed with the most mouthwatering pleasure. Without even trying, he was hitting the perfect spot deep inside you, and soon the sound of skin slapping was overtaken by your high pitched moans. Without realizing it, he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, making this last as long as he wanted was going to be a lot harder than normal. You felt his lips against your neck and with his face closer to your ears, you could hear his grunts every time he thrust inside of you. 

His hand was still on your jaw, and even though your wrists had been freed above your head, you hadn’t even noticed. His other hand grabbed onto your hair for leverage. It seemed like his thrusts got harder each time he entered you. “Talk to me, pretty girl. Tell me how you feel.” His tongue swirled behind your ear. 

“So good.” You choked out. “You’re so good, Jake. So, so, so good.” Rambles fell out of your mouth as your arms wrapped around his back. The feeling of nails scratching down his back was one of Jake’s favorite things in the world, so when your long nails stroked all the way from his shoulders to his tailbone, he threw his head back. He sat up so his face was above you again, and slid his hand from your jaw to your neck.

Your eyes found his, and the sight of his tanned, sweaty, toned body above yours made you throb around him. His pace was insane, the pain of him slamming into you was drowned out by the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot with every single thrust. The sight of him, the power behind his thrusts, his size, it was all too much. The tears that had been stinging your eyes for the past 5 minutes started to fall. The throbbing of your pussy and the tightening of your stomach told you that you were close. “J-Jake…” You stuttered. “I’m… I…”

“Beg.” He squeezed your throat. 

“P-Please.” You said the word that you felt like you had already said 50 times tonight. “Please, I’ve waited so long. Please, please, please please please” You rambled, more tears falling. 

“Fuuuck, give it to me.” He groaned and dropped his head, the sight of your doe eyes and tears were going to make him cum himself if he didn’t look away. It didn’t take long after his demand for you to let the wave of pleasure consume you. Mouth falling open, your whole body pulsed and your mind went completely blank. More tears welled in your eyes and the only sensation your body could make out was the feeling of his lips on your jaw. It lasted long and it was powerful, and when you were finally coherent again, there was a noticeable wet spot underneath you. “Good job, sweet girl.” He praised, his sweetness making your stomach flutter. 

Coming back up to hover over you, he kissed you. Believe it or not, Jake is not a complete and total dick, despite popular belief. He had told himself he would not ask you this question, that it would be crossing a line and it could upset you. But, when he pulled away and he saw how fucked-out you looked, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him clouded his mind, he couldn’t help himself. “Does he fuck you like this?” He asked darkly, his face close to yours.

There was a clear answer. It was staring you right in the face. But saying it out loud just felt wrong. Even more wrong than what you were already doing. “Jake…” You breathed as a surrender. 

“Tell me.” He said. Your mouth opened to answer, then closed again. He raised his eyebrows, his cockiness reflecting in his eyes. To his defense, he had absolutely every right to be cocky about this. You shook your head. “No. Say it.” He said through gritted teeth. 

“No. No he doesn’t.” It came out as almost a laugh. “Nobody ever has.”

“Yeah?” His arms flexed underneath your fingernails that were digging into them. You nodded. 

His energy had an obvious change, the admission had done something sinister to him. He sat fully up and pulled out, earning a loud wince from you. All at once, he grabbed your waist and flipped you over onto your stomach. With one hand, he reached under your stomach to pull you onto your hands and knees. Only having been out of you for seconds, he slammed himself back in. You were already sore, and he wasn’t even done yet. 

Now that your big, tear-filled eyes weren’t staring into his, he was able to start really talking. “Y/N,” one of his huge hands gripped your ass, the other held onto your waist. “I don’t even want to tell you how many times I’ve thought about this.” The only response he got from you was a high pitched whine. “I felt disgusting for thinking about you like that, but I couldn’t help it. It drove me fucking crazy, having to imagine taking you like this every night, my best friends wife.” That probably wasn’t the best thing for him to say right now, but he couldn’t control the words coming out of his mouth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, it just turned you on even more. His thrusts started to lose rhythm, and as much as he would like to keep this going all night, he was coming unraveled. “I always knew I would take better care of you.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I knew he couldn’t fuck you the way I could. The way you deserve.” 

It felt almost like you were going in and out of consciousness, like you could barely even process his words. Without warning to him or yourself, you pulsed around him and another orgasm poured over your body. No words came from your mouth, and by the end of the second-most powerful orgasm of your life, your body was nearly limp and your face fell to press against the mattress. “Jesus, baby.” Jake breathed. “You just… so much… fuck, where do you want my cum?” he asked, almost rhetorically because of how little time you had to answer. He pulled out at the exact last moment, and you felt his warm cum start to run down your back. He collapsed, trapping your body underneath him as his armed caged around your sides. 

Time felt different, and your hazy mind didn’t know how long the two of you laid there, breathless. Finally, gaining full consciousness, you felt Jake get off of you and walk out of the room. You were smart enough not to turn over, his bedsheets were already wet enough. The feeling of a cold wet towel against your core made your whole body jolt. “Relax, relax.” Jake said, his voice completely different than just a few minutes ago. As he gently wiped your back with the towel, his other hand came to brush hair out of your face, noticing your completely blank expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

A smile cracked through your lips. You could say the smile was sinister, a I-just-fucked-my-husbands-best-friend smile, or you could say it was pure bliss, a I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-life smile. You preferred the latter. “Yeah.” You giggled “You could say that.”

His shoulders relaxed, and a very similar smile spread across his face. While he was putting his sweatpants back on, you glanced at his alarm clock. Nine o clock, it had only been an hour since you left your house. You sunk into the bed with the realization that you had all of the time in the world. Unintentionally, the math of where Bradley is calculated itself in your head. Clara lives further north, on the coast, about 25 minutes from here. Bradley has just gotten started there. 

When Jake climbed in bed next to you, the thought of cuddling made a chill crawl up your spine. For some reason, that felt like crossing a line. It felt more intimate than anything else that had happened in this bed tonight. But, Jake didn’t seem to think twice about it. When his strong arms wrapped around you, and you pressed your cheek against his warm chest, all of your inhibitions melted away. His hand rubbed up and down your back, and your eyes fluttered closed. The feeling of your eyelashes closing against his chest made Jake’s heart swell. Fuck.

-

When you walked up the stairs to your bedroom, the house felt eerily silent. It was unsettling. The stairs didn’t even creek as you walked up them, and your dogs were nowhere to be seen. You started to move quicker towards your bedroom, and you flipped the light on right away when you opened the door.

The sight of strawberry blonde hair splayed across your pillow reflected the overhead light. Your mouth fell open, and you tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Furthermore, you tried to yell, but it felt like you couldn’t even get a breath in to do so. You couldn’t even move your feet. 

Clara’s eyes opened, and she didn’t look shocked to see you. She sat up and met your eyes. A smile spread across her lips. 

Your whole body flinched and your eyes shot open. When you realized you were laying in Jake's bed, you were finally able to take a breath in. The realization made you relax into his arms for a moment, closing your eyes again. When the clouds in your mind started to clear, and you finally had a coherent thought, you realized that you were just asleep. In Jake’s bed. Your eyes shot open again, and your head whipped around to look at his alarm clock. It was 12:30. “Shit.” You gasped. Moving on pure instinct, you rolled out of his bed and started to gather your clothes. By the time your shorts were on, Jake woke up. 

“What’s wrong?” He groggily spoke. 

“We fell asleep. It’s 12:30.” You pulled your sweatshirt over your head. “I have to go home.”

“Oh.” He said. He was obviously not as freaked out as you were, but he wasn’t the one going home to his spouse. The room was quiet while you put your shoes on, and in the darkness you were able to make out Jake’s figure standing up and rubbing his eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to say as you walked out of his room. Fully intending to book it to your car, your rushed movements were stopped by Jake grabbing your wrist right before you reached the front door. He pulled you to his chest and kissed you. His lips were soft, and his hands held your hips gently. Only letting the kiss last a few seconds, you pulled away. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears and you wondered if Bradley had tried calling you, if he was worried about you. Just past his shoulder, you saw Jake's couch, the one you were sitting on when he had originally told you about Bradley’s affair. Just the sight made your blood start to boil. 

You kissed him again. “Goodnight Jake.”

“Goodnight.” His hands left your hips and one last glance was shared between the two of you before you were out the front door. No promises of this happening again, no ‘text me when you get home’, just a pit in both of your stomachs that said this was wrong, but there is no way we are stopping. The air was chilly as you walked to your car and you didn’t have it in yourself to speed home this time. You didn’t care. Driving slowly, you let the radio play softly in the background and when you turned the corner to your street and saw Bradley’s car in the driveway, you hardly reacted. The lights were still on, and with a glance at your phone let you know that he still hadn’t texted or called. 

It was 12:45 and Bradley was on the couch watching TV. Not unusual, but you were still quiet when you walked in. “How’s Jenna?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Good.” You kicked off your shoes. “Her baby is so cute.” While you hoped the questions would stop there, you knew it would be suspicious to just go upstairs right away. How does Bradley do this every day?

He lifted the blanket he was using up so you could crawl under it. His warm skin felt safe and familiar. As usual, his hand fell to your hair to pet it. Closing your eyes, you could already feel the guilt seeping through your skin and crawling up to form a lump in your throat. “How was the game?” You faked curiosity. 

“Mm.” He grumbled. “Philly lost. Per usual.”

You began to wonder if he actually watched it. “How’s Jake?” 

His chest rose under your cheek as he took a breath in. “Good, I think. Same old same old.”

“Mhm.” You agreed. Fucking liar.

An overwhelming feeling of disgust overtook you. He was lying, but so were you. You were just as bad as him. You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you said you would do anything for each other, you would never leave each other, that you loved each other more than anything in the world. What happened? Where did you go wrong?

Tears stung your eyes and nausea crept up your throat. "I'm gonna go to bed." You sprung off the couch and booked it towards the stairs.

Bradley didn't flinch. "Goodnight." He spoke, eyes glued to the TV "I love you."

You glanced back at him, and maybe if he was looking at you he would see the disturbance of disgust and infidelity on your face. Regardless, you said nothing in response and walked up the stairs silently.

[terry-perry]

if your still taking requests for the Alastor x carmine!reader how about this scenario for a one shot….

Carla and odette decide to take their sister to the club in hopes to cheer her up. And she runs into Vox who finds Carmine!reader attractive & flirts with her. Unknowingly to her, Alastor was at the club with Charlie and the others and sees.

~ em

Minding One's Business pt. 2

Previous Part: HERE

Tags: @mysterypotatoink @martinys-world @lonelysimp18 @readergirlstuff @lokis-imaginary-friend @amyking300 @for-hearthand-home @wonderlandfandomkingdom @purple-umbrella-girl @saccharine-nectarine @monomas-girl @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @junieshohoho @yourmom132 @thebreadisthetruevillian @diffidentphantom @4lastrolynii @yui-onnero @shinji-lover @night-lol @yourdoorisunlocked @alastorsgirl69

The group peered over to the bar where Alastor sat alone. The space around him was clear as everyone at Consent chose to stay away from him, especially since he oozed more malevolence than usual.

"Boy, he's really taking this breakup hard," Angel noted.

It had been his idea for them to go to the club to help Alastor move on from Y/N. It wasn't exactly his scene and he was close to declining the invitation, but Charlie insisted and offered free drinks for the night.

Things were okay, at first, when they got there. Alastor kept to himself but interacted with everyone politely. Then he had said he was off to refill his glass of whiskey, but that was 20 minutes ago. Cut to him seated where he was at that moment.

"Well, this isn't exactly his scene Angel," Vaggie said, eyeing a nearby couple making out heavily while stumbling over to the nearest Sex Room. "I don't know why you insisted on bringing him to this place."

"What? Would you rather he spend his time moping around the hotel? At least, this way, he might find some good strange that can make him forget about Y/N."

"Humph," Husk uttered. "Might be easier said than done since no one is even brave enough to sit next to him."

Everyone turned back to the bar to watch Alastor demonstrate this by snarling at a random patron who oozed over to the seat next to him before realizing who he was and scurrying off like a chastised dog.

"He likes to play hard to get," Angel shrugged, downing another shot. "Worked on Y/N, didn't it?"

Charlie sighed, her eyes still on Alastor and noticing how forlorn he suddenly looked. "It was a nice idea, Angel, but I don't think he wants to forget about her."

"That's good!" Niffty chirped, suddenly popping up amongst the group to point to something across from them. "'Cause she's over there!"

"Wait, what?!" Vaggie exclaimed.

Everyone's eyes followed where Niffty was directing them and, sure enough, they found Y/N seated at a table alone with a drink, observing the crowd before her and looking lost in thought.

"Fuck! This isn't good." Vaggie said, her eyes darting back and forth to the bar and where Y/N was.

"Why? This could be better than my idea." Angel pointed out. "They see each other, talk, work things out, then they can continue making up in one of these rooms!"

"It's not that simple," Charlie said. "We might know Alastor could've developed strong feelings for Y/N, but she still sees him as the asshole who used her and lied to her. Everything is still fresh."

She looked back at Alastor whose back was still turned which thankfully meant he was none the wiser about his ex being there. "We don't want to risk drama brewing while they're still vulnerable. I'll go ahead and do my best to be there for him. You guys keep an eye on Y/N. Alert me about anything that might trigger any drama."

You continued to watch your sisters with a couple guys around them. You smiled and waved at one of them then shook your head when they motioned for you to join them on the dancefloor. You remained seated as you took another sip of your cocktail.

It was sweet of Clara and Odette to take you out, and the club was a nice change of scenery from Zestial's manor, but you just weren't feeling it. You'd rather stand by and play designated driver/bodyguard for your sisters. The last thing you wanted was for them to get mixed up with the wrong guy who says the right things.

You don't know why you still felt the way you did. You don't know why you still missed him, especially after realizing he was using you the whole time. You were angry, of course, and even made plans in your head to chop his head off, mount it on the wall, and feed the rest of his body to Hell hounds. You weren't just mad about him and your mother, however. You were also pretty heartbroken since all the times they were there for you were all a facade.

Looking back on your relationship, you wondered what was genuine and what was an act. Were the intimate details he shared with you real, or the love declarations he'd send through his broadcasts? Did every kiss and touch actually make him cringe? Did he only power through because you were promised by your mother to him?

"Well, fancy seeing you here,"

Your thoughts were interrupted by a not-so-pleasant and familiar voice. You turned your attention away from the dancefloor to see the seat across from you was now occupied. You did your best to hide your disgust at Vox's smarmy grin.

"Vox," you greeted him stoically with a curt nod before going back to looking at the dancing crowd, hoping he'd get the hint that you were in no mood to talk.

"I couldn't help but notice you from across the room," he claimed, taking your face in his hand so you'd be forced to look at him. "I gotta say the breakup agrees with you. I've never seen you look so ravishing."

You grimaced as you pulled his hand off you. "Thanks."

"My colleagues and I are seated in the VIP section if you care to join us. Drinks are on me, of course."

"Oh, are you sure you want to spend time with one of Carmine's brats?" You retorted, referring to the time he deemed you as such after the last Overlord meeting. Was every demon you knew so two-faced?

"Forgive me for being so rude before," Vox said, stretching out an apologetic smile. "If we're being honest, I mostly said what I did out of jealousy. I couldn't believe how lucky that asshole was to be with a beauty like yourself." He took your hand. "So you can imagine my joy when I learned about your breakup. That freak was stupid to let you go."

You hummed, smiling sarcastically. "And I suppose you're a better option for me,"

"Well, it goes without saying," he chuckled pompously. "The most that grinning grandpa has done since he's come back is help run a hotel doomed to fail at any second. Meanwhile, I have been a great success, producing amazing content for all of Hell to watch. It's made me rich enough to spoil anyone I deem worthy of my time."

"Lucky me, but I'm gonna have to pass. I'm not really in the mood to start anything new, let alone with another Overlord who talks too much." You stood up from your seat and began walking off to the bar, intending to freshen up your drink. "Good talking with you, Vox."

You barely walked three steps when he appeared in front of you, still with a smug look. "Come on, sweetheart, you know I'm your best option now, especially since you've cut off your best resources,"

You narrowed your eyes as something menacing began to bubble up inside you. "Excuse me?"

"Think about it," Vox continued, none the wiser about your silent rage. "It won't be long until Mommy and the best guard dog you ever had get bored of waiting for you to crawl back to them. Then what'll you do? Keep yourself holed up at Uncle Zest's place?" He took your waist and pulled you towards him. "It's better to go for someone who has the means to care for you and knows your worth."

He certainly gave you some stuff to reflect on, that was for sure. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was true. If things didn't return to normal, it'd be time to plan your next step.

For the time being, you had to take care of the cocky prick smirking down at you.

"Vox..." you cooed suddenly, making yourself look as flirty and doe-eyed as possible as you slung your arm around his neck. His smile grew wide as he felt your other arm slide between you. He leaned closer to your lips but was halted by your hand tightly squeezing his groin as you kept your sweet persona on. "If you ever touch me or talk to me like that again, I'll film myself ripping your slimy dick clean off you and play the footage on a loop on your big, flat face. 'Kay?"

Since he was too busy groaning in agony from your touch, he simply nodded. It was your turn to smile triumphantly as you pecked his face and let him go. You paid no mind to him crumbling to the floor, holding onto his groin. You instead walked out of the club to get some air. What you did was certainly needed, but now it was time to break down in tears.

"Hey, Al,"

Alastor turned his head and found Charlie by his side with an awkward smile on her face.

"You never came back to join us. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine, my dear," he attempted to give her one of his big grins, but it was more forceful than anything else. "I just needed to take some time away from all the noise and depravity, nothing more."

"We know this isn't exactly your scene, but Angel truly was thinking about you when it came to going out tonight. At least the drinks are good, right?" She raised her glass to him, which he humored by lightly tapping his against it. "Maybe we can go to that jazz place you like and listen to some music there."

"Appreciate the offer, but that place is currently tainted with...memories,"

"Oh," was all she said, knowing what he meant.

A silence fell between them, the thumping music and crowd deafening it before Charlie spoke up again.

"I really did think the radio dedication was a good idea. It was very romantic. It just surprised me when Y/N called and...you know."

"That makes two of us," Alastor replied, his smile growing sardonic while he sipped his drink. It took a more tender turn as he looked ahead. "How'd you do it, Charlie?"

"Huh?"

"How did you manage to forgive Vaggie the way you did? She kept a rather large secret from you for three years, yet it only took a day for you to forgive her. So, I ask again, how?"

When she didn't answer right away, he looked back at her. She appeared shocked to hear what she did. Anyone would be due to how out of character this was for Alastor. This whole situation could be considered as such. She gave what he asked some thought, all the same.

"It definitely wasn't easy," she started. "I needed time alone to think about everything. I didn't know what to think. Thankfully, a friend of ours gave me some good advice about actions saying more than anything words could. It let me reflect on everything Vaggie has done for me. And she has done plenty."

Charlie smiled lovingly to herself as she thought more about this. "She's my rock who's believed in me when no one else would. When I couldn't believe in myself. Even though this big thing she kept from me was terrifying and heartbreaking, all she's done for me outweighs it." Her attention returned to Alastor, who was invested in what she had to say. For the first time that night, his smile held no negativity. "Right now, Y/N needs time to think about everything that happened, and so do you. You gotta figure out your feelings, consider hers, and then figure out what you want before you plan your next move."

It was his turn to glance away and look pensive. He supposed she was right. He knew though that he missed Y/N more than he cared to admit, but he was the last person she wanted to speak with after he broke her heart the way he did. He wanted another chance, but it would take more than cliche gestures. To start, it would take time.

He was ready to give the night another chance, for now, and was about to disclose this with Charlie, but she was looking at something among the crowd that made her look uncomfortable. He followed her gaze and what he saw made him darken his eyes and shatter the glass in his hand.

Not too far away was Y/N being held by none other than Vox. His eyes narrowed and his teeth bared further as he saw how receptive she was to the flat-faced fuck's moves. When she threw an arm around Vox, Alastor released a growl.

"That arrogant, loud-mouth, woman-stealing-"

"Easy, Alastor!" Charlie attempted to calm him down when noticing how he was starting to stretch into his demon form. "We don't know if it's what it looks like." She peered back at the pair and looked disgusted at the sight of Y/N's hand lowering. "Even if it is, remember: she has to figure stuff out. You gotta let her, no matter how painful it is."

Static buzzed around Alastor as he gave that some thought. He didn't have a right to be jealous of this interaction. He had to see it from her point of view: their relationship was nothing but lies. She had every right to move on. He really didn't want to, but if he wanted to show he could be a better man for her, he needed to change. Part of the change included easing his temper and letting her go, as much as it pained him.

He looked at Y/N one last time, taking in the beauty he missed holding so dearly. When she gave Vox a kiss, however, it was enough to make Alastor teleport away back to the hotel.

[slayerkitty]

Only Friends: "Hot Take - Do Not Fuck Your Boss"

Credit to @chalkrevelations for the title, that part of your post made me giggle and pointed out an undercurrent of a theme that's running far in the background of the show.

Hot Take: DO NOT FUCK YOUR BOSS

We actually see this concept in four pairings on the show (sort of).

Starting with Sand and Ray (yeah, they did start as an employee/employer relationship). Ray was paying Sand to hang out with him. He paid Sand to drive him home that one time. Now, since episode two, when they slept together, based on Sand's "If I like you, I'll do it for free" line (paraphrasing), we can assume that Ray is no longer/hasn't paid him since. Essentially though, Sand fucked his boss and now look where he is. Ray still thinks he owns him, that Sand is a possession.

They've explored this with Top and Mew, too. Technically, the Fab Four are/were Top's bosses. They employed him (and are/were presumably paying him) to redesign the hostel for them. Top ends up sleeping with two of his bosses (Mew and Boston). He's actually manipulated into sex by his boss (Boston) and when the news gets out, Mew and Ray essentially fire Top. Boston, as one of the bosses, is loosely exiled from the group but not the project. Top is out of a job and a boyfriend (on the flip of this here, we know this is not Top's only job, he works with his dad at the hotel, but still).

We're also getting ready to see this with Daddy Dan (never calling him anything else, I don't make the rules) and Nick. Nick's been hired on for this project; Daddy Dan is super shifty that whole scene, blatantly coming on to Nick the whole time (whether that translation was supposed to be "Lick my ass" or "Kiss my ass" really doesn't matter, both amount to the same meaning here, lol). We all know this isn't going to end well for Nick. How we get there remains to be seen. Is this going to ruin Nick's chance for a career he wants? Will this fuck up his graduation chances? Will he end up with a sex tape on the internet (ngl, legit worried about this last one)?

The fourth couple this applies to is Yo and Plug. Yeah. So, their relationship has been subtle, playing out in the background and aside from their very pointed break up today, we haven't gotten much detail on them... or have we? In episode three, Plug and Yo talk about Plug being at the bar so much because he's a bartender. In episode 8, Plug says that Yo flirted with him for like a month before they got together. What that says to me is, Yo hired this guy has a bartender, thought he was cute and proceeded to PERSUE HER EMPLOYEE. Now, they're broken up. Does that mean Plug no longer has a job? Is Yo out an employee as well as a boyfriend?

It's an interesting exploration of power dynamics that a lot of shows, even ones that are office/work based BLs, don't quite seem to focus on the bad outcomes of. It's literally saying this is a bad thing, it can mess up your life.

So yes, hot take: do not fuck your boss.

Tagging the Ephemerality Squad: @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, @wen-kexing-apologist, @chickenstrangers, @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming

Apologies to anyone I forgot!

[queen-of-elves]

Acceptable

Armitage Hux x reader - Modern Office AU + some background Reylo

Summary: You have been working for First Order for years now slowly giving up on the idea of your dream project ever gracing your presence until it finally happened, however, there is a slightly cold and rude problem, other team leader Armitage Hux. 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (And I'm begging you to send me some)

A/N: There is not enough classic fanfics for Armitage and almost zero AUs so I am here to satisfy the bitches, it’s me, I am the bitches

+not betaread so be kind

Words: 5.8K

Warnings: some swearing probably, there is always swearing in my fics, talking about f themself cause corporate life is annoying, some inappropriate thoughts

Tags:@l0stinth3nightsky @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive

Everyone in the company knew how mean and bossy Armitage Hux was, even if you were from a completely different department, but this project was going to pull you in his inner work team and it terrified you to get first hand experience with him. You heard plenty of times how he made new interns cry and the older ones want to commit a suicide. So you weren’t exactly thrilled at working with him even on a project you have literally dreamed of since being accepted to work for the First Order company, the most prestigious company among prestigious companies. The project required two different departments that almost never interacted which also didn’t help.

You were ready for the first meeting between two departments, each under the supervision of completely different people and personalities, to be just a horrendous trainwreck. But Armitage Hux being the team leader of the other one? You didn’t have to be some kind of prophet to know this was going to be painful just to watch. Even though you were anxiously expecting disaster to occur in the first meeting, the sunshine side in you just had to shine through. So you had an exceptionally good morning, you were on time, had a delicious bagel and the sky was sunny, therefore there was no chance of Hux fucking up your day.

The office building was huge but not exceptional among the other skyscrapers littering the city, molding it into cement block maze. The windows provide enough clearance for you to see the busy people already moving around in the offices above, you even noticed some of your own team members anxiously waiting for your arrival while preparing the rest of the documentation for today's team meeting. 

You knew you were ready, your team also knew but that didn’t put to rest the anxious little monster growing inside your stomach. Still, you put on your best brave smile and entered the lobby, greeted the receptionist Clara and continued down the hall to wait for the elevator. Beeping your employee card on the scanner, to let you proceed to the elevator, put you right back into your morning routine, well, just for your coworker and a sort of subordinate, Rey bombard you with questions in the waiting line. 

“Did you hear it?” Her voice sounded an octave higher than usual or maybe it was just your tired brain not used to loud sounds yet, nothing a good old coffee couldn’t fix in minutes.

“Hm?” Your brain was still too tired to properly answer and so you only mumbled an acknowledgement to her question. Slow sips of your latté seemed to clear your mind a bit, thank god for sales like bagel plus free coffee at the local cafe otherwise you would be unusable these days.

“You know what I mean.” You were sure if you were to meet eyes with Rey, she would pierce you with that intense gaze. 

“The merge.” There was no merge, so far you weren’t even aware of any cuts in finances for this year or the one to follow. Whatever Rey was talking about was most likely just a bunch of bored employees gossiping and conspiring together, nothing major, nothing serious. This realization calmed you down even though The Merge sounded quite apocalyptic.

“I can assure you there is no merge, especially not between our two departments, Miss-” A voice interrupted but it did not intend to finish that sentence as if the owner was too busy to learn Rey’s name at all. He turned his attention to you, measuring you over, his calculating glare went over the ink stained hands to your low set black heels with that tiny cut on the left side you were so desperate to hide with black marker.

Armitage Hux waiting in front of the elevator for your arrival was definitely not on your list for today. He looked like a pristine image out of some magazine with men’s suits, his deep blue shaded suit with silver cufflinks perfectly paired with an expensive looking watch he was now checking printing itself in the back of your brain forever. Quite a nightmarish image of a handsome man with such a cold and cruel demeanor.

“You are both late. Meeting room 3 in 5 minutes.” And with that he was gone again, like a ghost, maybe he is a ghost of this building, stackup nitpicking cold monster that was stabbed by his tired employee centuries ago and now has to haunt the rest of you. He didn’t even turn around making you puzzle if he was truly addressing you.

“What’s going on?” Whisperyelled Rey, her wide eyes scanning the surrounding as if Armitage was going to pop up from the corner to remind her she has now 4 minutes left to be present in the meeting room.

“Trouble.” You simply answered your bewildered friend, there was no better answer to it after all. The morning you dreamed of was slowly fading into a nightmarish mess but at least you had now caffeined your brain enough to proceed to normal functions. Plus your team had your back, there was nothing to be afraid of except Armitage Hux and he was simply a man in a suit. Just an ordinary man in a tailored suit with a stoic expression.

And you were right, the team really had your back but Armitage definitely didn’t, he was mean and bossy and nitpicking and just so fucking insufferable. However, the meeting ended with both departments and their leaders arriving at a consensus, not a happy one. It almost reminded you of those messy divorce screaming matches in tv shows, except this was veiled in professionalism and formal language.

Of course your suffering didn’t end just as did the meeting, he was probably a sadist, prolonging your pain with his “Word?”. You were sure it wasn’t even a question, it was just an order for you to follow him straight to his office.

Armitage Hux’s office was neat as it can be, if it weren’t for the few scattered papers on the desk you would guess this was one of those exhibitions of furniture in Ikea. Well, even the Ikea display has more personality, some fakeass photos of happy couple/family. His office is neat until it’s bare, devoid of indicating anything about the owner’s personality. 

That’s kinda sad.

“Listen, I know that the project is not top notch of the quality it could be but I think we have a solid plan we can now expand upon.” You had to win this argument, you wouldn’t let him defeat you over a project you so desperately wanted for years. So, if he wanted to fight you were ready to bare teeth at this twig in a suit. 

“Oh, and before you say it’s-,” you couldn’t even finish before he interrupted you, “acceptable.”

 “What?” You blurted out, completely stunned by his remark. Did Armitage Hux, after all that tousling about in the meeting room, admit the plan your team created is acceptable. Yes, there were few changes happening after the “discussion” of both teams but nothing you have not foreseen already that also didn’t mean you were happy with said changes. But consensus between two completely different departments is everything the leadership asked for.

“The proposal is acceptable, I don’t understand why I should be doubtful, so far you have only proven to be a valuable asset for the company.” Armitage was always the epitome of professional and now he was complimenting you. He was complimenting you, right? Maybe you had too much coffee, maybe you had not enough coffee and maybe God was spinning on his chair and laughing at you up in the sky.

“Oh, thanks. I will take it as a compliment, even though you sound like a formal email impersonator.” Gosh, did you really just say that to him? There was a cold sweat pooling down your back, anxiety ranking up. Was he going to yell at you for such a statement, what you have heard so far it wouldn’t be unusual for him to yell at people over smaller things.

“I don’t.” His expression could be only described as a deadpan expression. It’s actually kinda funny, not entirely scary. He doesn’t laugh, noted, but you do and you also make people laugh and so you set your new target.You almost look around to see a hidden camera or an entire camera crew as if in The office. And while you amused yourself in your mind Armitage sported back his expression to emotionless stare before turning his attention back to the documents on the desk. 

“You do.” A small laugh escaped your lips at that moment and with his attention divided elsewhere you took it as an ideal time to run away exit the situation and also the office.

But before you could escape this storm of a man, he had to add. “Until the next meeting I expect you and your team to finish said plans.” And with that the conversation and mess of a morning comes to an end. However, there is still a lot of time for unexpected surprises before the day ends.

And so it began, the little you running circles in your brain over the thoughts of your new co-leader, the cold redhead slowly sneaking in your head again and again. It helped the clock to tick faster which was a good thing but the constant train of thoughts disassembling every part of your interaction with him over the time was like a cold shower every single time.

The last time you checked the clock read 5 minutes after 8pm and with that you started to pack your things ready to head home, have little dinner and continue with the paperwork over a random kdrama playing as a background noise. And as you bid everyone goodbye you noticed Armitage’s crouched figure in his office, going over some even more boring paperwork than was the one waiting on you at home. It was probably true, the first one to be in the office and the last one to leave that was Armitage’s schedule.

Sad.

And so you set your mind on a new plan, a horrible and cruel plan to ruin your late morning and exchange it for an early cold shower wake up and speed walk to a cafe not only for your favorite bagel but also a special delivery of coffee.

God, what am I even doing this early?

When the alarm buzzed you were around 100% sure you were making a mistake. Waking this early should be a crime. No, It is a crime. Especially when you were a busy little bee like you always are and spent the whole night until 3am working. But part of you knew it was going to be worthy, today was the day you were going to crack that tough ice cold exterior of Armitage’s facade.

If waking up this early wasn’t a mistake the cold shower definitely was but in all honesty you were just afraid you would fall asleep on the bus, so cold shower it was. In the end it was kinda worthy, you got your favorite bagel without having to wait in long line; got another free coffee, you had no idea if the sale was still on or if you just looked so terrible they felt sad for you and just had to give it to you; you also got Armitage his coffee and as a big finale you were on time, actually very early overall. 

The office was ruefully empty. And there was no Rey to talk to, you knew she wasn’t going to be in the office until 9am but you still hoped even she would find the idea of early start amusing. In reality you expected to get laughed at when she finally decides to grace the office with her presence.

You might have felt alone in the empty corridors of the building but it was not so empty after all. The curtain might have been drawn but you could see a slim light escaping in between them from his office, the artificial light was definitely not sunshine. 

He must have stayed up all night.

Mustering courage you knocked on his door before waiting on an invitation to let yourself in. It was useless, there was no sound coming from the office and so you knocked again and then again. Realizing he was not going to answer you decided to open the door and check up on him anyway.

He was sleeping on his desk with his suit jacket over the chair behind him and loose tie around his neck. The dress shirt slightly crumpled at the edges, his red hair tousled around and neck craned in such an uncomfortable position you were sure of his incoming back pain.

“Knock, knock.” You tried to say softly, just lightly waking him up but instead you groaned, your voice still not comfortable from no use this morning, startling him awake.

“I-” His form jolted, eyes flying open and searching the room for the culprit of his rough awakening. Blue eyes finally gazing upon you, Armitage looked boyishly handsome that morning, it was not just the wide expression but the state of disarray you found him in.

You decided against speaking, part of you afraid your blushing form would say something stupid, the stupid thoughts of the redhead not leaving you alone. The, almost like a cardboard, coffee cup made an uncomfortable noise once you pushed it on the table toward its owner, making the moment even more awkward.

He took a slow sip, still not fixing his hair or attire and part of you wished he never would, it suited him and you probably liked it even more than it actually suited him. 

“How did you know what coffee I drink?” His voice still hoarse and laced with sleepiness painted your cheeks even more crimson red. God it made you imagine things, you didn’t even know from where the thoughts were coming but there was somehow no way to stopping them. Your view of Armitage Hux completely shattering and rearranging itself into a different image.

“It's just black coffee, Hux, I assumed you would like black coffee, you are like the embodiment of black coffee.”

“Thank you, that's very considerate of you.” His lips touched the cup in a cautious move before he took a sip, trying to hide his small smile but you noticed it, you definitely noticed it and you knew you won. You won Armitage Hux over with a simple gesture of kindness.

”Was it a compliment or?” You wanted to laugh and you wanted to see more of a happier Armitage from now on. You felt like you got closer to Hux at that moment, a possible friendship started to blossom between the two of you. 

“Who knows.” Shrugging, he moved on to finally fix himself a little, smirk still apparent on his lips complimenting his tired stare. In that moment you wanted to experience more moments like this and you sure were going to try.

********

Finally it was the day the board would either accept the project or deny it. You couldn’t sleep for two days prior and even before that you slept only around 15 hours in a week, you felt almost dead. Both of you, Armitage and you, were now staring at your notebooks, ready to receive the final answer to your now weeks long struggle. 

Armitage's notebook beeped, a notification sounding off, sending you flying across the desk almost into his lap, not even considering it could be a completely different email or even personal thing.

You and Armitage got closer, just as the both of your teams, over the weeks you spent on this project, countless nights together in the office seemed to harden your relationship even more. You had fun, Armitage was not only a hardworking perfectionist and handsome man, he was also very funny, like ridiculously funny in your opinion.

The email was long, like unnecessarily when it comes to formal corporal emails but the end of it was just so promising. Both of you skimmed over the words, searching for the phrases denied. There was none, the only thing in the end it contained was so sweet and wanted approval for your project, relieving you both of disappointment.

You were not sure who was the first, if you or Armitage, but now the both of you were jumping as high as you could while clinging to each other, a victorious hug. It could take only seconds or minutes, you squealing and Armitage yelling, hugging each other and jumping once again, but when it was over, the embarrassment in both parties was apparent. 

Anyone could come into this office at any time, it was not uncommon for most of the higher ranking employees to just not knock and barge in and if they saw the team leaders of the current biggest project in the company disheveled and out of breath, who knows what they would think.

There was a common understanding of this premise and so the following actions were understandable, while you tried to smooth your skirt down, Armitage did the same to his hair and also his tie. He was still out of breath and a bit flushed, his look of happiness making you warm again.

“You should trust your guts more.” And again with his disheveled appearance, this man was going to be the death of you for sure. And while he was busy sporting himself back into his usual calm and perfect form you had to admire how far the both of you have come. 

“Trust my guts? Armitage, I have a crippling anxiety.” Wholehearted laugh clawed its way out of your throat, making him smile. “That’s like the worst advice ever.” You continued still giggling like a little girl with your cheeks starting to hurt from all the happiness flowing inside you.

“I tried.”

“I appreciate it.” You gave him a small shy smile, your cheeks were still too warm for you to completely concentrate. “Thank you.” You whispered in the end.

“You are welcome.” Nodding fondly over this conversation, Hux gave you a smug expression, which you have completely missed because you turned your attention back to the documents you had to prepare for the next meeting.

“Even though you should be the one thanking me for my amazing advice.” Armitage chimes in, relaxed expression kept in place while he slightly nudged you in the ribs.

“Was it a joke?” Your face morphing into a shocked amused grin, you turned to him, observing the man momentarily. “Did Armitage Hux just make a joke?” You were not aware that Armitage Hux, the cold hearted redhead, could joke but you liked it and hoped it would stay like this for a while.

“I regret ever interacting with you.” You could see the slight smirk forming on Armitage's face when he spoke, unable to contain it. Since starting working on this project you and Armitage really got close, you would even call him your friend now. Yeah, he was still sometimes a cold prick but you could see the appeal of him. Handsome, smart and very passionate for his work with a decent sense of humor, Armitage Hux was definitely a catch. This project really opened your eyes when it came to him.

“You don’t.” Your elbow met what you firstly assumed would be a bony mass but in reality was well defined muscles under what you deemed was branded suit.

“I do.” He couldn’t fight the smirk off now. It was awfully obvious. The past you would probably be slightly horrified over the thought of Armitage Hux smirking. The picture of it being painted under the impression that he is obviously an evil corporate man. However, seeing him smirk now sparked something completely different in you. The silly picture of an evil man from a cartoon you used to hold in your mind when someone said his name was replaced with a charming looking redhead man in a suit with a warm aura around him. 

“Nah.” You felt silly, stupid and giddy over this man and how warm he made you feel even though everyone viewed him as a cold and mean man he never was. “You love it.” 

“Yeah, I do.” The stare he gave you made something carnal turn in you, it was not an alien feeling but with Armitage there was a new intensity to it. Red liquid heat pooled inside your belly under his loving gaze.

Oh.

“I-I have to go and- inform the team, you know- so they like- know and- stuff.” You titered a bit, unsure how to continue such a conversation. Did Armitage Hux really make your heart skip a beat now? First he jokes and now he makes your heart flutter, the world truly is full of wonders

.

“Yeah, totally. I-” He seemed absentminded for a second, something you could hardly ever see on the young team leader’s face. Everyone might talk about his cold attitude but no one could deny how dedicated Armitage was to his work. Even though you weren’t from the same department you knew long before this project presented itself in front of you, that he was the first in the office and also the last one to leave. His workaholism seemed even more prominent with his quick responses to your emails regarding the shared project no matter at which hour you would send them. It was something worth admiring and fearing at the same time. And now you were the one stuck in their mind and still staring at him. 

“Hey, would you like- to go for a coffee or something?” His voice cracked in the middle, maybe it was trying to stop him from continuing but he still pushed through, the final bits of courage sending him past the finish line, finally asking.

OH.

“Your proposal is acceptable.” You tried to imitate his voice, those words as a reminder to the conversation you had with him after the first meeting.

“Thank god.” The relief on his face was comforting to see. Armitage was really keen to go out with you and it made you happy beyond anything.

Bonus little bits with Armitage’s POV:

He really hoped he could avoid Ben this morning but luck seemed not to be on his side this time. Armitage and Ben have been friend-workers since they both started in the company. They actually knew each other even before since they both went to the same college. At first they were not awfully close, Ben liked to annoy the fuck out of Armitage while he was trying to enjoy his morning coffee, lunch or evening run. Basically destroying nice things he liked but somehow the two of them stuck together and formed a sort of friendship over some time. That of course didn’t change anything on Ben annoying him with every single ounce he had in himself, which was the exact reason he really wanted to escape him this morning. This perfect late morning, he decided to enjoy himself and to read in bed until it was completely necessary to go to work. He never did that but recent sunshine in his office seemed to brighten his life and mood all the time so why not to enjoy a slow morning, he was after all always on time for 5 years straight now.

Armitage could see Ben towering over the cubicles scattered over the big room on the second floor of the company building. Ben was currently laughing over something some brown haired woman said, Armitage recently learnt her name was Rey and Ben was incredibly fond of her. This information was obviously carefully and pragmatically locked down inside his brain to be used later if the time called for it.  

And so Armitage hoped he could silently walk down to his office without Ben annoying him so early in the morning, leaving him to reminisce about what today could bring him, especially if it was in the form of a cute co-leader he recently had the chance to meet. He was wrong, obviously, well not really, but yes, he was wrong.

The young redhead was correct when his thoughts browsed back to you and if you would be as cheerful in his presence as you were yesterday. What he however didn’t mean to summon was not only your attention but also Ben’s.

“Armitage!” And there you were, a sunshine smile and loud voice directing everyone's attention, including Ben’s, to yourself before they turned to see him.

He simply nods in acknowledgement without realizing his face was graced with a slowly spreading smile. Ignoring his previous distaste in morning conversation, giving her a small wave didn’t seem so annoying as greeting Ben.

“Well, well, well, who is trying to sneak by.” God, just his voice could irritate Armitage to death on most days but today it was exceptionally nightmare inducing.

“I wasn’t sneaking by. I was simply walking to my office.” He answers curly, not giving even a glance to Ben, his expression still souring into deadpan one.

“You should take your coffee with some milk, you are awfully bitter in the morning.” Ben sniggers, amused at his joke.

“You're the one who is quite giddy today. Did the board meeting yesterday go that well?” But Armitage is ready to fire back right at him.

“Nah, not really.” This finally got Ben to shut up and Armitage to go about his morning in silence.

******************

“I didn’t think you were the type to go crazy over a woman.” Ben’s laugh is loud and childish, echoing on the open walls of the main hall between offices. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” The look he gave to Ben was one of his favorites, offended and beyond believe irritated. It was a perfect illusion for him to uphold, ‘cause in reality Hux’s mind was in a midst of complete panic but still he kept on his killer pace to his office, maybe to lose Ben in the big space where the rest of the desk of their subordinates was located.

How much does he know?

This thought however, stopped Armitage in his walk, contemplating if he should address it more. And finally where he was sure his tongue wouldn’t twist itself in his mouth when he spoke of you, he turned around. 

“You talk like a cartoon villain, you know that, right?.” Ben’s tall form was not leaning on the side of one of the tables , his gaze partly fixed at his phone before it’s lifted to assess the redhead’s reaction. It was deliberate, it was all planned out, a humiliating and uncomfortable situation Ben could trap him in easily, to get all the answers he wanted.

Now he knew he couldn’t win against that ridiculous giant, this was always a losing game. If he took it too seriously Ben would admit to only be joking, trying to get a rise out of him, if he continued to ridicule or ignore his questions Ben would only tease him more, a truly lost game in Armitage’s eyes. “God, please go and do your job.” But still he could try to collect any advantage he could get his hands on, the advantage being taking everything and shutting himself in his office until the end of the day.

-collects all his things and gets up to leave

“I am working.” Ben’s cheerful voice still followed him, digging into his back in a teasing manner. “No, You are not!” Armitage was aware how his voice boomed through the office making some employees turn their heads over the ruckus but Ben was quite oblivious to his friend’s voice’s effect. He actually couldn’t help but laugh at his friend for moments still unaware of the attention he was given by his colleagues hidden among the various desks in that room. However, even Ben was deemed to notice the confused look he was given by one of the younger secretaries over the small cubicle wall.

“Sorry.” His hands flew up in an apology or a manner that reminded most of them of surrender, before he decided to lift himself up from the desk and proceed to an elevator. Ben of course caught a glimpse of her, so familiar brown haired woman who was already entering one of the elevators. Feeling his chance, Ben's quick walking, caused by his slight embarrassment from the situation prior, turned into jogging when he thought he was already out of sight for the rest of his colleagues.

“Hi.” The elevator was empty except for the said brown haired woman, she looked pretty, exceptionally pretty. Well, she always looked beautiful and so to level the playing field, Ben put on one of his charming smiles before he glanced her way.

**************************

“You should ask her out.” This was coldly stated in the midst of conversation about going for a drink since both of the men’s projects were going to finish soon. The sentence positively stunning Armitage into a statue with a cold sweat pooling slowly down his back while his dark haired counterpart continued to munch on his sandwich.

“Ask her out or I will.” This time those words were slurred between Ben finishing the prelast bite and attempting to stuff the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. Ben’s tall form was stashed between the seating area and one of the tables, he was crunched over but no one of it helped to not make him stand out in the crowd of eating people with his broad shoulders. Ben always towered over everyone, except over Phasma from accounting actually, but everyone else was a victim to his high stature. It was almost comical just as his words. Still, Armitage fumbled with his hands, dropping from one the document he was reading while not being able to control the other, his grip on the sandwich slipping until it unceremoniously slammed in his lap and into the napkin he thankfully unfolded on it.

“What?“

“Ask her out or I-”“I heard you the first time.” Ben was used to Armitage’s cruel remarks or even interruptions but this was the first time he did so with such a vigor.

 “Why did you ask then?” There was a knowing smirk painted on his lips, the redhead falling into his trap one more time.

“I know you won’t ask her out.” This confused Ben greatly. What did he mean? The dark haired man adored teasing his pale friend on a daily basis but it was almost unheard of Armitage opposing him. He did attempt to oppose several times and it was not exactly as playful as Ben wished for, usually it consisted of Hux reminding him to get back to work and where is the fun in that? But this time, this time Armitage had something on Ben and he absolutely didn’t like it.

“Rey wouldn’t like that, would she now?” What was left of the knowing smirk on Ben’s face disappeared seconds after those words were muttered into the air between the two men. This time it was Ben who was left with red cheeks and ears, absolutely flabbergasted and fumbling hands with the wrappers of his now gone lunch.

************************

Armitage didn’t even realize how organized you were but now that he had the chance to see inside your office he was lost for words. Who would have thought someone like you would have neatly organized folders with color marked projects and spreadsheets for time management not only for your team but your work.

“You are awfully organized.” He truly was in awe at how your space looked. 

“Thanks?”

“I expected to find a battlefield in your office but it’s- surprisingly tiddy?” He didn’t mean tiddy, he meant a perfect, absolutely and adoringly perfect environment for him to exist, something that almost seems to be made just for him.

“That’s kinda rude, Armitage.” He was not known for making a lot of people laugh, maybe Ben but it was more of a laugh at his own account, with you it was somehow ridiculously easy, apparently.

“I was complimenting you.” He objects, trying to defend his honor, it was not in his intentions to come off as rude as it might have seemed. 

“Sure.”

 Again with the laugh.

“You should take it as a compliment. Organized people are h-,” he paused, gulping down his words until it weighed heavy in his stomach,”good.” 

“Good?” There was a suspicious smirk playing on your lips as if you knew what he wanted to say but Armitage almost sure you had no clue, you simply wanted to tease him a bit more.

 But God, what if you did catch his misstep? No, surely you didn’t. He gave you one more questioning look to make sure you were none the wiser. 

“Yes.” He had to clear his throat, to compose himself a bit by bit but there was an unbearable weight at his chest, almost too consuming. “For business. Organized people are known to be very reliable and hardworking employees.”

Yes, good. They are good. I totally didn’t mean hot. Because organized women are totally not absolutely hot. And I totally just didn’t realize it’s a thing for me. Ha ha. Please, act normal.

Armitage’s brain must have looked like a scrambled egg now, trying to unravel all his thoughts into a coherent solid state so he could function properly while unsuccessfully avoiding all his thoughts involving you and this office.

“Found it.” You held up a blue folder with a little yellow sticky note poking out of the main pages.

Oh, yes, the scripts for the main document, that’s what brought the two of you inside your office. That’s why he was now stuck between walls adored with shelves upon which sat dozens of cute plants. A complete opposite of his office but very cozy, it was obvious you decorated the room with a clear idea of making it a positive and comfortable environment. The purple sofa in the corner ideal for-

Yep, Armitage was fully aware he was fucked.

[waitmyturtles]

To my taggers @hughungrybear, @ranchthoughts, @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle, and @telomeke, this one's for you!

GET TO KNOW ME TAG :)

do you make your bed?

Not until I sleep in it!

what's your favorite number?

Feel like I don't want to spill it because I use these numbers in passwords lol

what is your job?

Executive management

if you could go back to school, would you?

Such a good question. I already did it once, mid-life, and it was THE BEST DECISION I EVER MADE, and one of the first decisions I truly made just for myself. Would I go back AGAIN? I would have considered it if I didn't know so many PhDs who are at various levels of happiness with their decisions. So: maybe. What I really look forward to is being retired so that I can take free classes at local colleges and have all the time in the world to read through the syllabi.

can you parallel park?

Fuck yes, who do I fucking look like, someone that can't parallel park? /end-East-Coast-road-rage

a job you had that would surprise people?

Hmmm. I don't think I have one that fits this category!

do you think aliens are real?

I think humanity's definition of "life" is too limiting

can you drive a manual car?

UNFORTUNATELY NOT, and I really wanna learn

what's your guilty pleasure?

Watching dramas, honestly. I shouldn't feel guilty about it, but I'm Asian, so I feel guilty about everything

tattoos?

Love them on other people, never made up my mind on what I wanted to get, and I feel like that ship has sailed for me

favorite color?

My kids ask me this all the time: pine green, rich purple, deep pink, all oranges, aquamarine blue, and black

favorite type of music?

I can't choose one. My playlist is all over the place. Korean hip-hop and New Orleans bounce (THANKS @bengiyo) have been my workout go-tos lately

do you like puzzles?

I will when my kids have more patience to do them

any phobias?

HEIGHTS :(

favorite childhood sport?

Ice hockey

do you talk to yourself?

Absolutely, and I've needed to use meditation to manage the inner monologue over the years

what movies do you adore?

Oh gosh. All I think about lately are Thai BLs, so I think a lot about the impact of The Love of Siam and Dew, two movies that are so tough to digest, but are really well done. I've also had two wonderful Japanese movies on the mind for no reason, Like Father, Like Son: Soshite Chichi ni Naru, and Drive My Car.

coffee or tea?

Both, all the time, often mixed

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

I wanted to be a journalist. I was such a rabid sports that I thought being a journalist would get me the closest to sports that I could go without being an athlete. And I actually got to do sports journalism for a while, and it was fun! (But I quit media, which is a whole other thing, and now I'm much happier)

Who hasn't been tagged? How about the old Only Friends Ephemerality Squad, how y'all doing?! @lurkingshan (I think you already did this Shan) @neuroticbookworm @twig-tea @slayerkitty @thatgirl4815 @distant-screaming @clara-maybe-ontheroad

[skele-bunny]

Please more silly Special and Cowbell of when they were growing up!

Omg say less snjejdjx also I <3 giving Bell my speech patterns 💪💪 no c.... No o...... Frfr

Teen Years. (No CW) Special & Cowbell/Doves

CW - NONE

Tags: Teen shenanigans, fluff, bigender Cowbell, sibling teasings

Characters: Cowbell, Special/Phil, Doves

(Divider by @ wrathofrats !)

One thing that always got the Doves curious was their human-like mates and how they shared traits without realizing that deep rooted to their once element. More specifically how they had human traditions called birthdays the replicated moon cycles, school dances that mimicked bonding rituals, but one that got them the most was piercings. In their culture, piercings were a sign of status and proposals. Little did they know the rabbit hole they'd be led down from a simple question.

Aqua tilted his head as he asked one fateful day as he eyed Cowbell's bellybutton piercing, a rarity only shown when she'd wear her crop tops in the den. "Is it also a human tradition to be pierced?"

The Null's tail went up to signify he heard the question. "N't really." Bell rolled over so he can sign, bringing his hands up. "I was just a dumb teenager and Special had access to sewing needles sooner than he should've."

"Phil!" Aqua turned in his chair. "What is Bell meaning by you had access to a sewing needle in relation to a piercing?"

Loud, genuine laughter suddenly came from the kitchen, Special turning the corner while holding his glass of water. "Oh fuck! When we were younger, I watched this Sister of Sin pierce her friends ear in the school's bathroom and I wanted to do it. So I started piercing myself, and then Bluebell wanted one."

Bell's face went red in embarrassment, grumbling. "It su'ked!"

"Because you wouldn't stop squirming!"

The youngest ghoul sibling grabbed the pillow under her head, throwing it at the eldest who laughed and let it hit his shoulder. "It ti'kled!"

Aqua blinked somewhat, tilting his head. "I still don't understand how a needle plays into this."

Phil held up his index as he pulled his phone out, pulling up an image to show an 18-gauge sewing needle. "That's what I used."

"How unsanitary." Gaia added, looking over the kitchen counter. "And it didn't get infected?"

"Oh, not Bell's, but mine definitely did." Phil put his phone away to lift his sweater, showing the small scar from his piercing. "Did that stop me? No, but it should've. Now look at me, ear gauges!"

The two Doves chuckled at their smaller mate's tease, watching him go over to Bell and shove her hooves off the couch so he could sit — only for them to return on his lap.

"Now if you want to talk about mistakes, you should ask Bell about Clara."

The hoof near his stomach kicked sideways, Phil grunting and slapping his siblings knee which now started a small war.

"Fu'k y'u f'r that!" She squealed, watching Special hiss and move to bite his knee.

Cowbell kicked again before both his and Phil's ears were grabbed, grimacing and looking up at Iris who raised an eyebrow. "No rough housing on the couch."

"Phil started it!" Bell whined, swatting his husband's hand away.

Iris gave one last tug to his mates. "And what would that be?"

"Clara," Special stuck his pierced tongue out which Bell returned. "Her first girlfriend."

The water ghoul simply clapped with interest, his gills fluttering just as much as his wings. "Oh, do tell. I love hearing mating stories."

The two nulls were in a glare off before Bell moved his hooves behind Phil's bone wings just to inconvenience him. "Clara was a sister of sin I really liked when I was... What? 15? Prettiest thing ever. We dated for exactly six hours and when I unmasked she fainted, and I got grounded for revealing myself and dating."

"Oh that's a terrible mating story." Aqua corrected himself.

"You win some you lose some." Special shrugged, standing up and pulling Bell's leg fur just to be annoying.

He earned another hiss before Bell stood up as well. She stomped over to their bookshelf, causing Special to stare and gasp as he pulled out a purple photo album.

"You wouldn't dare..."

"I w'uld."

The eldest instantly chased after his sibling, yelling loudly. "Bluebell Emeritus I will end your fucking life!!"

"'At'h me first, bit'h!"

The doves watched the altercation as Bell ran around the common area while flipping through the book, laughing maniacally. Sarra stood in the doorway, eyeing his fellow packmates who simply shrugged. She jumped over the coffee table and into Iris's lap who sat on his rocking chair, shoving the photo album in his hands.

"L'k at his fa'e!— AH!" Bell started before squealing as her hair was yanked back, Phil dragging him before Bell grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down.

Sarra lifted the coffee table as they rolled around, hitting and poking at each other's sides. Iris hummed, both Gaia and Aqua looking over his shoulder at the photos. It had photos of Phil during an event called 'homecoming', his face covered in acne and braces tight. He looked... Awkward. They couldn't help but smile at the obviously embarrassing photos fondly, admiring their husband and now flipping through the pages.

"Turn to the sixth page!" Phil shouted, straddling Bell's stomach while she thrashed before slamming them upwards in a vice versa position, twisting Special's arm behind his back.

"D'n't!!" Bell whined in response, distracted but yelping as legs wrapped around her neck and twisted him back down.

Doing as told, Iris moved to the sixth page, stifling his laughter as Bluebell stood with an angry face as she was dressed as a variant of an Easter bunny. The icing on the cake was the carrot she angrily held, a death grip like he was ready to throw it at whoever was behind the camera. Iris turned the book so Sarra could look while he still held the coffee table up but also monitored the two siblings still going at it.

The quint cooed. "Oh, that's just precious. You should dress up as a bunny for us, Bell."

"What?!-"

"Why not me?!-"

The two looked up at the same time, knocking their heads together and groaning, holding their respective impact marks. They hissed at each other, glaring and a new found fire as they went back to fighting, Phil grabbing a previously thrown pillow, hitting Bluebell with it who quickly got her own to retaliate.

Slowly flicking through the pages, Gaia pointing at a baby photo of the two, their hearts melting with a shared 'Aww.' It was one of them matching for their first Halloween, Phil as a ladybug, Bluebell as a bumblebee.

Sarra reached up with his other hand as a pillow went towards his face, quickly throwing it back to Phil who resumed beating his younger sibling while laughing.

"Look at this one! Aw, Phil, you were smaller than a Firebird!" Aqua smiled wide, seeing the picture of the kit being held by Papa Nihil who compared him to the body of the guitar.

Their response was Phil yelling as Bell had adjusted her hooves on his stomach and kicking overhead, sending the doctor onto the floor and groaning at impact. They both panted, catching their breath. She tilted her head back just in time to see Phil slowly raise his middle finger, responding in the same way.

Agni, who had been watching from his doorway hummed. "I don't even want to think of you two doing this when you were younger."

Iris laughed. "My guess is broken bones. Plenty of them."

Very delicately, Sarra placed the coffee table back down and picked up his two husbands, them resting in his arms but now glaring as they were in eye contact again. "I don't think they're actually grown." Sarra teased.

Immediately, the two snapped their head at the quintessence, then back to one another.

"Truce?" Phil huffed.

Bell nodded. "Tru'e."

Sarra quickly lost his balance as Phil wrapped around his neck and pulled back, Bell dropping and quickly tackling his waist. They grabbed their pillows and went to beating their mate with more laughter, Sarra holding his hands up to protect himself from the throw pillows.

"We're older than you, you overgrown grape!"

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp.10

Pairing: Minchan (mention of Changlix)

Word Count: 6309

Summary: The night Felix and Minho have shared raises questions amongst their friends and Minho feels pushed into a corner. Another fight with Chan escalates and Felix and Changbin step in. Minho and Chan try to work on their differences and get closer.

Warnings/Tags: emotional breakdown, panic attack, emotional hurt/comfort, mention of alcohol, mention of sleeping pills

A/N: Another bit of drama but we're getting there🤣~🌙

Chp.9 | Chp. 11

Getting heavy to breathe in this room together It's so awkward, we can't seem to do it better Can't we just fake a smile, put our shit to the side? Loved You Once - Clara Mae

The next morning everyone was already seated at the table as Minho made his way downstairs. He was wearing a loose shirt, not wanting them to notice that he lost weight and his hair messily fell around his face. His eyes looked a little swollen and his neck was covered in dark bitemarks. 

Everyone stared at him as he made his way to the fridge and poured himself some juice. "What?" Minho snapped as they still remained silent. 

"What the fuck happened?" Seungmin was the first one daring to speak up. 

Minho blinked at him in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Uh, your neck," Hyunjin said, vaguely gesturing at his own. 

He sat down at the other end of the table and tried to ignore Chan's observant eyes resting on him. "Felix happened," he said. 

Jisung choked on his drink. "What?!" 

"Yes, I went back to what I started with. Any more stupid questions?" he asked. 

"Why?" Jeongin asked confused, looking at Felix, who was gently shaking his head. 

"Why?" Minho asked him and raised his eyebrows. 

"Okay, sorry for asking," he rolled his eyes at him. 

"This is hardly the place to discuss this," Felix said gently. 

"Why would we even discuss that?" Minho asked and huffed as everyone avoided his eyes. "I can't believe you guys sometimes," he said firmly, getting up. 

"Minho," Chan said warningly, sensing another breakdown. 

"Everyone in this fucking house did that before, but when I do it, it's suddenly an issue?" he asked, ignoring Chan's utterly confused look and the nervous glances of their friends at him. "Why? Because my last lover was so sweet and supportive of me that I have no reason to?" 

"Minho, let it be," Chan told him firmly. “This is between you and me; don’t take it out on the others.”

Minho slammed his glass back down at the table and glared at him. "You shut up. You're the whole reason this shit is happening. The only reason you took me was because I was the easier option since I was around the house already. Now stop acting like I'm the asshole just because I had sex with someone else for once." 

"Oh, the way you panicked after it yesterday seemed like you surely enjoyed it," Chan said coldly, and Minho's face fell in betrayal. 

"You..what?" Felix asked worriedly, and Minho glanced at him anxiously. 

"You're such an asshole, I can't believe I fell for you," Minho said, staring at Chan with tears in his eyes. 

"I have no idea why I wanted you so badly either," Chan fired back. "You're completely unstable." 

"Seriously? You desperately kiss me and you begged me to talk to you about something else yesterday," he spat out, a tear running down his cheek as he desperately tried to save himself.

"Oh my fucking god, you guys. Go get a room, have some fucked up hate sex, and then move on," Jisung said and grabbed his plate, getting up and leaving. 

"Don't start making this a routine when the rest of us are trying to eat," Changbin groaned softly. 

Minho looked at Chan for another moment. "I quit." 

"Minho hyung," Seungmin tried gently. 

"No, you fucking don't, Minho. Go and sober up, I can smell the alcohol from here," Chan snapped at him, and everyone looked at him in shock. 

"I’m not doing shit this week, just make something up. You're good at that," he spat out. 

"You won't risk the reputation of the group just because we don't get along right now. Get yourself together! We have a fucking job to do!" Chan shouted and slammed his hand on the table, jumping up. Minho didn't know what got into him as he grabbed his glass and threw its contents right at his face. Chan stared at him in pure shock, juice dripping down from his curls onto his sweater. 

"What is wrong with you?" 

Jeongin quietly handed him a tissue and exchanged an awkward glance with Seungmin. 

"Okay, that's enough," Felix said, grabbing Minho's wrist and pulling him. "Binnie, you take Chan."  

"What the fuck?" Hyunjin said to no one in particular, wiping off a few drops of juice that had landed on his sweater. 

"This is getting exhausting," Seungmin sighed agreeingly. 

Minho stood as far away from Chan as possible as they brought them to the same room. Changbin pulled the door closed loudly.  "What the hell?" he asked sharply. "Why the fuck would you talk about that during breakfast?" 

"Why the fuck do I have to explain everything around here, and he doesn't?" Minho snapped right back at him. 

"Why didn't you cover it up?" he asked. 

"Because I didn't thinking about it, okay? I'm sorry that I can't think of everything," he groaned, frustrated. "I should've stayed upstairs in the first place." 

"And why the fuck would you say those hurtful things to Minho again?!" Changbin asked Chan, clearly frustrated. "If you saw him panicking, that's between you and him, not for the whole table to discuss. Neither is pointing out that he had a little too much." 

"I wasn't thinking," he huffed. 

"Wow, that's a new thing," Minho pressed out. 

"You're day drinking now?" Chan asked harshly. 

"Why? Does it bother you? Great, I'll do it again tomorrow," he said angrily. 

"Oh, for fucks sake- Shut up, both of you!" Felix snapped at them, and they all grew quiet. He didn't lose his temper often, so seeing him like this now prompted the silence. "Listen, you're both hurt and can't stand each other at the moment; we get that. But stop putting it on everyone and dragging us down with you. We're a team and need to trust each other to function." 

"You can't keep on fighting in front of everyone else. This is your shit. If you need help, go see a couple therapist or some shit like that." 

"We're not exactly a couple," Chan noted. 

"That's the point they were trying to make," Minho nodded sourly. "It's actually not a bad idea when you think about it," he agreed. 

"You're kidding," Chan laughed darkly. 

"I'm not," Minho said firmly. "I'd have enough mental issues to talk about, and don't get me started on you." 

"Nice one," he huffed. 

"I mean it, you could use some yourself," Minho sighed. "But you didn't want to hear that the first time, I doubt you want it now." 

"Damn right," Chan nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

"Guys, this isn't working. We can't go on like that," Felix sighed. 

"I want a break," Minho said firmly. 

"No," Chan said just as firmly. 

"Why?!" he asked, slowly losing his mind. 

"There's no chance they'll let you take a break right now, you know there's tons of important stuff coming up," Chan reminded him. 

"It's not like I'm contributing anything useful at the moment anyway," he said defensively. Minho slumped back against the window, his will to fight slowly crumbling. "Chan, I can't do this right now," he said tiredly. "Blame it on my injury. I don't care, but I can't go out there and pretend I'm okay," he told him, his eyes filling with fresh tears. He hated himself for being so damn emotional at the moment; it wasn’t like him to show that so openly all the time.

"Chan hyung, he's right. It just keeps on raising more questions," Changbin tried gently. 

"You know I don't like to quit, you know I always push myself way beyond my limits for the group," Minho said shakily, searching Chan's eyes. "I'm not asking for much, give me a week. Chan, if you care about me even for the tiniest bit, help me out here. Please," he begged through tears. 

"I said no," Chan said, hating himself for it. He knew there was no chance they'd allow him such a break. Not at the moment. Not without a profound reason, and having a fight with him wouldn't work for that. Watching Minho's eyes fill with betrayal, he knew he lost him. If there had been any hope left for them, he just destroyed it. Chan felt sick to the core, blinking back tears burning in his eyes. 

Minho whimpered as if he had hit him, tears streaming down his face. He flinched away as Felix reached out for him to comfort him, and Changbin quickly took his hand, seeing the hurt that filled his boyfriend's face. "I'm sorry, Minho, I can't make that happen," Chan tried timidly. 

"You're the worst," he pressed out. 

"You're probably right about that," Chan nodded before leaving the room, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

Changbin and Felix stood still for a moment. "You need some space?" Changbin asked, and Minho nodded, not even looking up. 

Minho couldn't believe the shitshow his life had turned into within weeks. His friends hated him by now. He misplaced his trust once again in someone who hurt him in the end. His body was a wreck, his mental health even more. He noticed he had forgotten his phone and blindly stumbled down the stairs to get it. 

Chan swallowed hard seeing him and stared down at the table, unable to watch how devastated he looked. 

"Minho hyung?" Seungmin asked worriedly as Minho fumbled over his chair, searching for his phone. He was trembling, tears streaming down his face, and his body was shaking with heavy sobs he tried to hold back. 

"I'm okay," Minho pressed out, finally finding his phone. 

Chan closed his eyes, inhaling shakily at how broken he sounded. It felt like being punched in the face. A few hot tears slowly started to make their way down his cheeks, and he pressed his lips together tightly. 

"Chan hyung?" Jeongin tried gently, placing his hand on his. 

"Don't," he whispered, shaking his head. He didn't deserve their comfort one bit. 

Jisung came back to return his plate, stopping in his tracks seeing them. "What the hell did I miss now?" 

"Minho wants to take a break, but Chan can't help him because they wouldn't allow it," Felix summed it up. 

"That's bullshit," Jisung shook his head, turning 

toward Chan. "His injury would be reason enough." 

Chan looked up, and everyone swallowed, seeing the tears on his cheeks, realizing it didn't leave him as cold as he pretended to. "I already tried, okay?" he asked, voice laced with emotions. "I asked them, not only once…I tried, kitten." 

Minho flinched heavily and took a step back. "Don't call me that," he whispered pleadingly. 

Chan swallowed hard. "Sorry." 

"Why wouldn't they let him go on a break?" Changbin asked. "We've gone for lesser reasons." 

"He's the main dancer, people love watching him tease the shit out of all of us, and he's a visual," Chan said, unable to look at Minho. "Not during promotions." 

"It's always during promotions," Seungmin tried.

"I tried my best, okay?" Chan asked weakly. "I told them he's injured and unstable, but that didn't seem like it was enough." 

Minho braced himself on the backrest of his chair, burying his face in his arms. "Channie, please," he whimpered. 

Hyunjin got up at the same time as Chan did and stepped next to him, soothingly rubbing his back. "Minho, you don't have to do this alone, okay?" he asked softly. 

"I can't keep up with it," he told them, backing away from Hyunjin, denying himself the comfort of his friends once more. "I'm not okay, guys," he whispered, grabbing the kitchen island to steady himself. "Please don't force me to pretend I am," he whimpered and sank down on the floor, leaning against the kitchen island, feeling a little dizzy. 

Jeongin gave Chan a gentle push and nodded toward Minho. Chan anxiously glanced at his friends, and they all seemed to agree with him trying to comfort him. Hyunjin stepped aside to make room for him. Chan hesitantly crouched down and rested his hand on his shoulder. "Minnie, look at me," he said very softly. Minho looked up, pressing his lips together tightly as their eyes met. 

Chan hesitated for a moment before cupping his face. "I didn't mean to start another fight, I've been an idiot, okay?" 

"Okay," Minho whispered. "Me too." 

"I swear to you, I tried to get you some time off," he continued. 

"Why didn't you say so?" Minho asked shakily.  

"I don't know," he said, chewing his lower lip. "I promise we'll figure this out," he told him, soothingly caressing his cheeks. 

Minho reached up, grabbing his wrists, and for a moment, Chan thought he'd pull him away. But Minho smiled sadly, thumbs fondling over the back of his hands. "I fit right into them, right?" he whispered. 

"Yeah," Chan laughed weakly, almost choking on his tears. 

"In another life, we could've been perfect," Minho said quietly enough for only him to hear, remembering Felix's words of last night. 

"Being perfect is completely overrated," he said, and Minho's lower lip quivered. "Come here," he said gently, and Minho gave in, burying his face in his chest. Chan held him close, soothingly rubbing his back as Minho held onto him tightly. His own tears dripped down into Minho's hair, and after a moment, he buried his face in it, hoping he wouldn't have to let go of him that quickly again. Minho held onto him as if his life depended on it. 

Four days later

Felix sighed softly, pulling the door to Minho's room closed behind himself and making his way over to his own. Jisung would stay for tonight, and he himself felt like cuddling with his boyfriend for a bit. 

Just as he reached his room, Chan stepped out of his own, meeting his eyes before signaling him to follow him. Felix bit back a groan but stepped into Chan's room. "How is he?" Chan asked quietly. 

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Felix answered tiredly. 

"Seriously? He isn't exactly letting me close," he sighed. 

"Yeah, who can blame him?" Felix mumbled, but Chan heard him contorting his face. 

"I thought you were my little brother, Felix. Can't I even ask you something now without you being sassy?" he asked, getting frustrated. 

"Minho's like a brother to me, too, you know? And you've been a complete dick to him," he said gently. 

"Don't you think your relationship goes a little beyond that?" he asked, and Felix simply stared at him. "Is that why you're pissed? Because I took away your casual lover and only hurt him? Is that what you tried to undo a few nights ago?" 

"You're so fucking dumb, Chan if you seriously think this is a jealousy issue," Felix told him. "We've been having fun, and yes, it has been amazing, but we've talked about what we were, you know? We were both fully aware that this was a friends-with-benefits situation since, deep down, his heart belonged to you, and I had a crush on Changbin." 

"You…what?" Chan asked, confused. 

"Wake up, Channie, you two weren't the only ones. Binnie and I have been in a relationship since the day Min and I ended our little agreement," he sighed softly. “All I did was try to help him forget, which Changbin was alright with.”

"So he knows?" he asked quietly. 

"Everyone kinda knows," Felix told him. 

"Everyone but me," he nodded sourly. 

"We didn't exactly hide; we just didn't feel like kissing in front of you guys," he tried gently. “That’s why I got so upset that day. You think I’d cry like that because of a friend avoiding me?”

Chan shrugged his shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first time, Felix; you’re a softie.”

“Wow, thanks,” Felix snorted. "So no, you didn't take away my casual lover, as you call it…but maybe that's the issue here," Felix nodded gently. 

"If that's all you saw in him, it's no wonder you can look him in the eyes and say all that horrible stuff about him in front of your shared family." 

"Careful, Felix," Chan said firmly. 

"Why, Chan? It doesn't seem like Minho meant any more than one of your one-night stands," he shrugged. "You're right, he deserves better than that, and I'm praying he'll believe in that." 

Chan stared at him, tears forming in his eyes. "Wow." 

"I just don't get it, Channie. You've always wanted to call him yours, you longed for him to love you back. You had it all, and you ruined it by denying it, hurting him, pretending that having sex with him was just him using you…What the fuck, mate?" he asked quietly and squinted his eyes at him. "I don't know what's been going on in your head those past few weeks, but you need help, Chan. I'm saying this as your little brother, who loves you a lot." 

"Fuck off," he shook his head and opened the door. "Seriously, move it." 

"That only shows me I'm right," he shook his head sadly but did as he said. "I really hope you come back to us, I miss you." 

Chan just shook his head and slammed his door closed. He sank against it and buried his face in his knees, tears spilling down his cheeks. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, not wanting anyone to hear how hurt he was himself and how guilty he felt. Chan looked up, spotting the bottle of sleeping pills on his desk, and thought of the envelopes in the drawer beneath it. He got up and went over there, taking them out and spreading them on the table. The names of his six friends stared back at him, and he hesitantly took out the last, thicker envelope with Minho's name on it. He opened it up, and a few pictures poured from the envelope down onto the table. Chan picked up one of them, a weak laugh falling from his lips, seeing Minho and himself pulling a stupid grimace. There was another one of them kissing and another one where Minho looked at him behind the camera, full of love. Chan's thumb softly brushed over Minho's cheek, and hot tears shot to his eyes again. He really fucked that up. He had it all and ruined it. 

Why did he always ruin everything? They’d seriously do better without him.

He reached for the bottle of pills and looked down at the table, breathing in shakily. Minho’s beautiful brown eyes stared right back at him. He could practically hear him, telling him to get help when he couldn’t deal with things on his own anymore. Telling him that he was loved, that he mattered, and that he’d always be there for him and…

Chan sucked in a sharp breath, scared of himself, before dropping the bottle and leaving his room. He felt like he couldn't properly breathe anymore, and before he knew it, he was in front of Minho's room, knocking hesitantly. 

Jisung opened the door, and his eyes widened seeing him. He quickly stepped outside and closed the door. "Chan hyung?" 

"Hannie, I can't -." He rubbed his chest as a sharp pain shot through it, and he gasped for air. 

His face softened, realizing what was happening, and he gently squeezed Chan's hand. "Look at me," he told him, and Chan's panicked eyes met his. "Deep breaths, okay? I'll breathe with you," he told him and helped him find a proper rhythm. Chan focused on him and slowly felt his chest opening up again. 

“Is Minho here, I really need to talk to him,” Chan asked timidly.

Jisung contorted his face. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” he said gently, feeling bad at the pained look on his friend’s face.

"Hannie, I'll be out for some - What the fuck?" Minho asked, stepping out of his room and seeing them. 

Jisung glanced at Minho, wearing a jacket and holding his sneakers in his hand. "You'll be out for what?" he asked calmly.

"A walk," he said, not even looking at him. His eyes were stuck on Chan. "What do you want?" he asked. 

"He had a panic attack," Jisung answered for him, still holding Chan's hands. 

"Why?" Minho asked. 

"You know there doesn't have to be a reason," Jisung sighed softly. 

"Hannie, he's old enough to answer for himself," Minho told him. “Why, Chan?”

"I don't know," Chan said quietly. 

"Huh," Minho nodded before dropping his shoes, pushing past them, and walking to Chan's room. Something told him Chan knew damn well what was wrong. He didn’t know what made him think he’d find a clue in his room, but who knew? Maybe he had already packed up his stuff.

"Minho, don't!" Chan called out for him, but Minho was faster, already in his room, as he reached the door. 

In shock, Minho stared at Chan's desk, seeing the letters and the bottle of pills. He shakily picked up the envelope with his name on it and spotted the unseen pictures on the table. His heart hurt seeing them, and he turned to look at Chan standing in the doorway, seeming way smaller than he was. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked quietly. 

"Minho," he tried. 

"Just answer the damn question, Chan!" he snapped and frowned as Chan flinched heavily. That was new. 

“I-I wanted to - I don’t know what I thought,” he stammered, and Minho frowned at him. 

“Please tell me you didn’t,” Minho whispered, tightening his grip around the envelope.

“Just for a moment,” he said, starting to shake a little. "I got into a fight with Felix and felt like you’d all be better off without me," he said timidly and pulled at the sleeves of his sweater. 

"A fight with Felix?" he frowned. It took a lot to make Felix mad. 

"I'm an asshole, okay? I know that already. I don't need everyone to rub it in," Chan said, looking down as fresh tears filled his eyes. 

Minho chewed on his lower lip nervously and looked back at all the letters. "What are those?" 

“The letters you would’ve gotten after I quit,” he admitted.

Minho carefully picked up the bottle of pills. "Are you still thinking about that?" he asked, rubbing his neck tiredly. Chan only shook his head, pressing his lips closed as tears started spilling down his cheeks. "You promise?" he asked gently, unsure how to handle the situation. He didn't feel like comforting him, but acting like he didn't care didn't feel right either. Chan nodded but stayed quiet once more. "Are you...gonna be okay?" 

"I don't know," Chan whispered helplessly. "I thought I was,” he added and wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “I scared myself just now.”

He stared at him and couldn’t help but think that he looked like a sad kid who needed a hug right now. Minho closed his eyes defeatedly and nodded softly to himself. He couldn't leave him like this. Minho always hated seeing him cry; what he just admitted worried him. He gathered all the envelopes from the table and took Chan's pills as well. He walked past him, handing Jisung the pills and sending him off after a few whispered words. "You'll go ask Hannie from now on if you need some to sleep, alright?" he asked, and Chan nodded reluctantly. Minho chewed on his lip before giving himself a push and holding out his hand for him. "Come on." 

Chan looked at him through tears in confusion but took his hand. The familiar but very missed feeling sent shivers through both their bodies. They both stared at their hands for a moment before their eyes met. 

"You can stay here tonight," Minho offered hesitantly. 

"Are you sure?" Chan asked quietly. 

"I don't know..right now, I am," he said, gently pulling at his hand. "Now, come on before I change my mind." Chan followed him silently and picked up Minho's shoes for him, stepping into his room with him. Minho put the envelopes on his desk and took the shoes from him, removing his jacket again. "Sit down," he said, gesturing towards his bed. "You want some tea?" 

"I'm fine," he shook his head. 

"You don't look fine," Minho sighed. 

"Then stop looking," Chan answered and pulled down the sleeves of his sweater. 

"Channie," he said gently and rolled his eyes at him. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking up surprised as Minho wrapped a soft blanket around his shoulders. 

Minho gently rubbed his shoulders and sighed softly. "You stay here, I'll make some lavender tea to help you calm down." 

"Okay," he said quietly, swallowing at how close Minho was to him suddenly. "Min?" 

"Yeah?" 

"They're…they're not goodbye messages," Chan spoke up quietly. 

"What?" he frowned softly. 

"They're just stuff I wrote for each one of you in case one of you would feel bad or get into a fight with me," he told him. "I was thinking about giving Felix his." 

"Oh," he nodded dumbly. 

"But…yeah, I guess today I thought about them being just that," he admitted. 

"Thank you for being honest with me," he nodded gently. 

Minho went downstairs and stared out of the window as he waited for the water to cook. He rubbed his face tiredly and groaned softly, bracing himself on the kitchen counter as his stomach cramped. Now that he thought of it, he hadn't eaten anything all day. "Fucking hell," he sighed before putting their bags in the cups and pouring some water in. 

"Can't sleep?" Changbin asked, strolling into the kitchen. 

"Shouldn't I ask you the same?" Minho gave back, putting some honey into one cup and shoving a cookie into his mouth.

"Felix came over for cuddles. We're about to watch a movie, and he wants popcorn," he rolled his eyes fondly before glancing back at Minho. "Who's that second one for?" he asked curiously, knowing everyone should be in their room by now. 

"Chan," Minho said after swallowing his snack, and Changbin looked surprised at him. "Apparently, he and Lixie had a fight or something…he had a panic attack."

"That's why he's so caught up in his thoughts," Changbin nodded gently. "And now you and Chan..?"

"He had some sort of goodbye letters and his pills on his desk. I didn't want to leave him alone," Minho admitted. 

"And you're okay with being the one to be there for him tonight?" he asked caringly. 

"Honestly, no idea," he told him with a weak smile. 

"I'd do it, but I have Lix over." 

"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine," he waved him off, and Changbin looked at him doubting. "I promise, go and enjoy some time with your boyfriend," he smiled bravely. 

Changbin nodded slowly, grabbed the bag, and pulled him into a hug. "I hope you know we care about and love you a lot, Minho hyung." 

Minho smiled sadly and patted his back gently. "Of course," he lied. 

He watched him leave before stuffing the pack of cookies into his sweater pocket and removing the teabags. Minho grabbed their cups and went back upstairs, wincing softly as his knee protested with every step up the stairs. He pushed the door open and balanced the cups in one hand, trying to close it again. Some of the hot tea swapped over the edge of the cup and right onto his hand, making him curse and bite the back of his free hand to cancel the noise.

Chan got up worriedly and carefully eased the cups out of his hand, putting them aside. He automatically took Minho's hand and inspected the damage. "Come on, let's pour some cold water over it," he said, leading him to the adjoined bathroom. 

Minho watched him silently as Chan held his hand beneath the water, thumb carefully brushing over the burnt skin. He swallowed hard as Chan applied some cooling cream, careful not to hurt him. Now, in the bright light of the bathroom, Minho saw how messed up Chan looked. His eyes were reddish and swollen, his curls framing his face completely untamed. He fought the urge to brush them back and tried not to pay too much attention to how good it felt to feel his skin against his. 

"Told you I don't need tea," Chan joked lightheartedly. 

"Fuck off," Minho gave back softly. "I was trying to be nice." 

"I know," he assured him gently before letting go of his hand. "There you go." 

"Thanks," he nodded before quickly leaving the bathroom again and grabbing himself a cup. Minho went over to his window and sat down on the pillows draped across the window sill. He leaned against the wall and stared outside into the night sky, trying to sort his thoughts. Chan got comfortable on his bed again, wrapping the blanket around himself and carefully blowing into his tea. 

Minho took a sip before contorting his face. "Let's switch," he said, and Chan frowned at him. "I don't like honey in my tea, remember?" 

"Oh," he nodded dumbly and handed Minho his cup. He stared down at the new cup in his hands, his heart warming at the thought of Minho remembering to add honey for him. They remained quiet for a while; Minho stared outside, and Chan tried to look everywhere but at him, which was hard because Minho looked beautiful with the moonlight dancing across his face, highlighting its finest features. It was moments like this when Chan realized how beautiful he was. "Uhm, about our recent interview-," he started, and Minho shook his head. 

"No, I know. It was highly unprofessional to storm out like that, and it won't happen again. I'm sorry about what happened after they sent me back in, my brain wasn’t functioning," he apologized and rubbed his neck. “Believe me, I’ve got my fair share of scolding for it already.”

"What? I…no, no, that's not what I was trying to say," he shook his head, and Minho glanced at him. “Wait a minute, you got in trouble after that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head.

“Minho,” Chan said firmly, and Minho swallowed.

“They told me to get myself together or stay away from group interviews for a while. Apparently, I’m too quiet and look too depressed for the cameras,” he shrugged and chewed on his lower lip. “Bad for business or something like that. I didn’t really listen.” Another lie. He had memorized every word, taking it all in and making it his new reality. He was starting to see himself the way his haters did more with every day passing.

“I’m sorry, Min, I’ll talk to them,” Chan said, but Minho shook his head.

“Please don’t, it’ll make things only more complicated.”

"I was going to apologize. Given the circumstances, I should've known that saying you're the most important person in the group to me would upset you. I wasn't thinking." 

Minho tilted his head softly. "You act like that's something new." 

"Ouch. Fine, I deserve that," Chan nodded almost timidly. 

Minho squinted his eyes at him. "You know there was a time you could take a joke." 

Chan shortly raised his eyebrows. "There was a time you meant it as a joke."

Minho took a sip of his tea and watched him for a moment. "I was joking, Chan." 

"Well, I wasn't," he gave back, and Minho's expression faltered. Insecurity flashed back into his eyes, and the grip around his cup tightened. 

"Why would you say that?" he whispered. 

"Say what?" Chan asked. 

"Why would you say some bullshit like that in public and act so differently when the cameras are gone? How fucked up is that?" he asked. 

Chan closed his eyes and shook his head. "Minho." 

"What? You don't have an answer for that either?" he asked, getting offended.

"I was talking bullshit that night, and I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how often I'll have to tell you or the others that I'm sorry, but I'll do it if that means you can stand staying in the same room with me again," he burst out. 

"I currently am, aren't I?" he huffed. 

"I meant what I said during that interview; I was being honest. I should've known you'd get upset or angry or whatever, but I saw a chance to say something to you without you avoiding me," he explained tiredly. "Again, I'm sorry and-." 

"Yeah, I got that," he said sourly. "You think sorry will fix things? It'll make me forget about what you said, how you portrayed our whole relationship in front of our friends. You think I'll forget what you said about me?" he asked, his voice growing shaky. "I trusted you with all my fears and deepest insecurities, and you smacked them right back in my face. You said I'm cold, I don't care about your feelings and-" his voice broke, tears shooting to his eyes, and he stopped himself, looking away from him. Minho stared outside, trying to blink away his tears and swallow down the lump forming in his throat. “You think it’ll make me forget how you asked if I enjoyed you telling me that I’m not all of those things? That I'm just some sassy asshole?” he asked shakily.

"I know I can't fix this by saying sorry, but I want you to know that I am," he said, getting emotional again. "I know I fucked up, and I probably won't be able to fix this. But please, if there's a way, let me know," he pleaded.

"You can't just undo the damage," he pressed out and sniffled. 

"I know," he said defeatedly, big tears spilling down his cheeks. 

"Just like I can't undo it by saying sorry for revealing how shitty you actually felt. That wasn't my decision to make, and still, I did it on purpose to hurt you back," he told him and sucked in a sharp breath. "It's my own fault you snapped at me after that, I know that. I just didn't think you'd go that far."

Chan messily wiped his cheeks with his sleeves, but new tears kept on making their way down his cheeks. "I was talking shit, and you reacted. That's okay."

"No, it's not, we both know that," Minho said, and Chan didn't know what to say since he was right. 

But then..he wasn't okay with it. "No, it really isn't. I trusted you with that, and you decided that was the first thing to throw at me when I hurt you. You used my darkest moment to protect yourself," he said, pulling the blanket around himself more tightly. "You broke your promise and lost my trust." 

"I know." Minho closed his eyes, hot tears dripping from his face. "And still, you hold me when I panic and come to me when you do. How does that make any sense?" 

"I guess deep down I knew only you have truly seen that side of me, and you didn't fall apart because of it," he confessed and felt his heart break at Minho's tortured expression. 

"We both fucked up big time," Minho said after a long moment of silence. 

"I lost you with what I said, didn't I?" he asked timidly and bit back a sob as Minho didn't answer. “Min, please, just answer the question.”

"Right now, you did, yes," Minho nodded, holding back a sob at that confession. It was the first time he truly admitted that to himself. 

"Will I ever get you back?" he asked. 

"I don't know, Channie," he laughed weakly and almost choked on his tears. Minho flinched heavily as Chan buried his face in the blanket, sobbing quietly. "Please stop," he begged him quietly, putting his cup aside. 

Chan mumbled an apology, hiding even more as his body shook with heavy sobs. He couldn't help it, reality hitting him full force. Something in him had still believed in a happy end for them and that something had shattered into pieces. "I'm such an idiot, I mess everything up," he sobbed. 

Minho’s body moved before he realized it, and he stepped in front of him, fondling his head. "Channie, love, please," he whimpered, crying hard by now himself. 

Chan whimpered at the pet name and soft touch. Minho cupped his face, making him look at him, and Chan's stomach turned, seeing that he was crying just as hard as he was. 

"Please don't make this harder than it already is," Minho whispered, wiping his cheeks with his thumbs uselessly. 

"I'm sorry, Minho, for everything," he sobbed and closed his eyes as Minho planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Don't give me hope. Please, don’t give me hope," he whispered. 

"I hate seeing you cry, that's not fair," he confessed weakly and held back a sob as Chan covered his hands with his own. "Can you hold me again?" 

Chan opened his arms for him and pulled him into his lap. He wrapped his arms and the blanket around him at the same time as Minho sank against him. They held each other tightly, trying to calm down at the familiar and missed touch. "I got you, Minho baby," he whispered, and Minho buried his face in his chest, stifling a sob. 

"I'm so sorry, Channie," he whispered, gripping his shirt. "I need time to figure this out."

"We have time," Chan told him and buried his face in Minho's hair. 

"We both need some space to work through that stuff," he said, and Chan's hold on him loosened. 

"You're right," he agreed quietly. "I can leave." 

"Please don't," he shook his head. "Not tonight." 

Chan pulled him close in response and closed his eyes. Maybe there was still hope for them. They'd have to work through their hurt on their own until they were ready to forgive each other. "I'll stay as long as you want me to," he promised. 

Chp.9 | Chp. 11

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/ removed from the taglist)

@soullostinspaceandtime @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni

[flowerslut]

Popped on to wish you a speedy and healthy recovery from your procedures 🖤

Also, thank you for updating Roots, and I hope it’s because you wanted to and not because you felt you had to. Please put yourself first right now 🖤

But since you updated…I wanted to say on first read this is my instinctive raw gut reaction without analysis…I was loving you having Jasper come back to himself so much…when he first recognises Edward, then when he sees Emmett - the burst of rage and regret and guilt he has! Remembering Alice, running to check on her… until a certain someone snapped him back into his automatic response and the thought he had….makes me feel sick. But I know he wouldn’t do that to Alice, and you mentioned something in your tags about infidelity not being a tag..

(I also hope Alice didn’t see that particular vision with her fragile state right now, would not be helpful for her)

I’m really hoping you let him come back to himself soon and see Alice even though it’ll rip our poor troubled Jasper’s heart out at seeing her like that/knowing what was done to her 💔

My heart is breaking for Rosalie!

And being the Peter/(Charlotte RIP) stan I am, I kind of lowkey love the fact he was stinking of venom and rot because that screams to me that he carried and held Alice all the way back home and we love that for his character 🖤

tldr; take care of yourself and Roots is better than the entire plot of The Twilight Saga altogether, sending positive vibes and all the Jalice love 🖤

Clara x

(PS, I may be back with a more in depth analysis once I’ve reread this chapter after some sleep after a 12 hour working day)

thank you so much!!!! I'm feeling better every day and I'm in good spirits so that's a huge plus!! and omfg lmfaooo don't worry!! every single time I've worked hard to squeeze in a roots update is because I'm fucking feral about this story and I LOVE thinking about it and posting it and talking about it etc etc!! 🥰 for as obsessed with roots as everyone says they are, just know that I'm over here also feeling the same stuff!!! sure there's a sense of obligation there since I like posting regular updates but it's 10000% percent because I love! to write!!! and I love! the fics!! I write!!!!

gonna reply to the rest under a cut bc of spoilers! ♡

don't worry, if jasper's disorientation/current mental state is making you feel sick or nervous or anxious then that means my job here is done 💀 this poor man is still trying to mesh the good (his current life) with the bad (his past life) in his brain and it's causing a full fracture to happen. we (jalice stans) often talk a lot about jasper's trauma because it's a really interesting subject to dive into, but being able to write and explore a traumatized character going through psychosis has always been something I like to explore in fanfic and with characters I like (who are all very traumatized individuals. hm. wonder what that says about me 💀)

anyways you'll have a better idea of what alice is and isn't seeing two chapters from now! but don't worry, I will give you one assurance and say that this past chapter (48) is as disoriented as jasper gets in the fic. he starts clearing up more little by little as the story progresses. unfortunately, I can't say the same about alice

and poor rosalie oh my godddd :( I think that whumping emmett (or renesmee, if we're being real here) is probably the best way to get rosalie to break down. and rosalie is interesting because she's so quick to anger. but when there's no immediate target for that anger, and when the person she loves more than anything is in such a state, you can only imagine what she's going through right now. (which is why edward's current job is keeping rosalie from trying to fight maria because she badly needs something to tear into) you definitely get a little more peter & alice content in the next alice chapter, but not a wild amount. peter's main job right now is 'keep alice alive' and if that means having to begrudgingly follow maria's orders...well, he'll do it, but he won't like it...

thank you again for always being so sweet!! I'm so happy you and other people love this story so much! it feels so good to have a fic that I was insane about for a year straight finally infect my readers in the same way that it did me 💀 I can't wait for you guys to have the full thing by the end of the year!!!!!!! thanks again! ♡

[macbethz]

1, 10, and 15 for the choose violence ask game :)

THIS IS A LONG ONE SORRY. I guess I had violence in my heart.

1. The character everyone gets wrong

Ok im aware this is like the most predictable answer for me but its true. CLARA!!! People don't get her at all and it absolutely infuriates me, because she's pretty much the only companion in nuwho who is hated to this extent (ie, people saying mean shit about her on my posts ABOUT HER) Oh does she annoy you by having the exact same traits as the doctor? Do you not like her egotistical and controlling behavior? I wonder why. Perhaps there is a point there.

Sidenote - it annoys me when people will call her a mary sue and simultaneously get mad at her being an asshole and yk, having character flaws, as if those terms aren't mutually exclusive & her hyper-competence that gets read as "mary sue" isn't an intentional choice by the narrative and a result of her being DEEPLY unwell in other aspects of her life.

I feel like a lot of people judge her based on the second half of s7 which, to be fair, is awful and I don't think they knew what they were doing with her yet. But in the context of her whole run she is genuinely one of the most evocative characters to come out of doctor who for me, especially in the way she serves as a kind of commentary and subversion of companions as a whole. I genuinely could talk about clara forever but yeah I do feel like a lot of the hate comes from the fact that people Don't Get Her.

And then among fans who do there's always a risk that they see her as this blank slate twee girl to self-project onto which again, to be fair, is how she was written in season 7. But so many things from supposed fans of her as well that I'll read and be like she would not fucking say that. she does not have the emotional awareness to say that. and/or she is not like a uwu quirky shy girl she would fucking speak her mind about that. She is deranged and I love her. I have to shut up abt clara or this will be the whole post.

10. Worst part of fanon

I honestly cant get TOO annoyed with doctor who fanon because i am a comics fan AND a danny phantom fan and its surprisingly common practice for people in both those fandoms to be a "fan" of something they have not consumed the media for in any form, resulting in this horrible mess of fanon with no connection to what makes the original compelling. + doctor who is such a mess of canon anyway basically everything has been canon at some point even if its shit.

But I think in the end the worst part of DW fanon is, like all fanon, the flattening of really compelling characters to fit trope archetypes. I see this especially with tenrose, where they're just turned into this kind of generic ship that you can plug n play into any situation with little connection to the interesting ways they actually behave in canon.

As a kind of interesting reversal, though, fanon will often expand out dw's most generic characters (ie most chibnal companions. sorry), but only for the purposes of shipping and not in ways I myself find particularly interesting. Like imo Yaz is probably the least developed chibnal companion but pretty much the only one I see expanded on in this way because of the shipping potential.

15. that one thing you see in fanart all the time

im probably gonna get slaughtered for this but i think maybe weve had enough crowley in doctor who outfits or 10 meeting crowley fanart. maybe im bitter because i dont really care about the GO show and I feel like it fills up the dw tag to the brim these days

[bonesandthebees]

Okay I’m starting at the catacombs because I love that Wilbur willingly walked in there to find Phil while knowing what was on the other side. What I love even more is that Phil can pick up on someone else being there so fast (I wonder if Kristin told him he had company). And the cherry on top is the fact that Phil gets taken out by it being Wilbur rather than one of the Deathlings. Maybe he’s surprised because he didn’t expect Wilbur to come talk to him. Or maybe it’s the fact that Wilbur walked into the catacombs by himself.

Also, there’s the thing with him feeling Kristin presence again. Like he always feels it in the temple, especially when in sight of a statue, but the catacombs really are Kristin’s domain, even more so than the rest of the temple. And it’s interesting that he also feels Clara’s presence now, because he didn’t at the start or he thought he didn’t. And then that changed when he started getting visions, but it makes me wonder how much of it is really there presence and him much of it is just Wilbur’s imagination/state of mind.

Also, I’ve said it before, but Wilbur so would have an non-believer like Quackity is he hadn’t been yoinked to be the Pythia. [He didn’t want Her watching him. He was here for Phil. Not another goddess.] my man is so done with the whole religion thing. I hope going back to the palace doesn’t fuck him up too much.

(Side note: [Despite the serene look on his face, the Pythia could still see the worry brewing behind his eyes. Whatever Kristin told him might’ve reassured him for the time being, but it wasn’t enough to abate Phil’s concerns entirely.] This might be about the whole coup in general, but I am very worried about Tommy, though there’s no major character death warning, and if I remember correctly you always put those there beforehand (though that might have been a different author.)

(1/?)

-🌲

okay now time for the more recent asks lol

like I said in the older ask of yours I answered, kristin didn't have to tell phil wilbur was in there. wilbur was just really fucking noisy opening that door like he wasn't subtle at all

he was definitely surprised that wilbur walked into the catacombs on his own though. that was something he wasn't expecting.

I won't confirm or deny anything you speculated about kristin vs clara's presence, but I will say a LOT of it is dependent on wilbur's state of mind and his own feelings. like, this story is told entirely in his head. whenever he feels something, it's through his subjective point of view. if you're ever wondering how much of it is influenced by his own head, it's always going to be more than you think.

don't worry I will tag my fics properly if the need arises. though on rare occasions instead of MCD I might tag a fic with creator chose not to use archive warnings instead, if I felt that it was necessary not to spoil things. (that's not to say any fic I write with creator chose not to use archive warnings is going to have MCD in it, just that if MCD does happen and you think I didn't tag for it, look to see if I tagged it creator chose not to use archive warnings bc I almost certainly did)

either way though, rest easy bc glass doesn't have MCD or creator chose not to use archive warnings tagged lol

[soulless-angel25]

Doctor Who Masterpost pt 4

[Hi. Part 4 of my Doctor Who Masterpost! Jesus... I'm going to link the other parts + anything that is technically part of this but also another one of my masterposts. March 2024-June 2024 Riverrose Week Part 1, Part 2, Part 3]

MY ART

13riverrose

Ghost's Romance May day 14

fem!11

doctorroseriver "how much the doctor loves them" given art form

POLLS

doctor who ship you can't get behind?

PROMPTS

GENERAL/THOUGHTS

rose edit idea

"10 didn't love rose"

what is a god?

contribute more to 13riverrose

missyrose ao3 stats

rewatching father's day

rewatching father's day pt 2

rewatching father's day pt 3

rewatching father's day pt 4

rewatching father's day pt 5

rewatching father's day pt 6

finished rewatching father's day

my drrose moon will sing a song explained

3 drrose fics with the same name

I hated "Rogue"

why so many tags for dr/rogue????

i love 9jackrose

rewatching boom town

pls send me fic prompts

ANALYSIS/THEORIES

MY FIC UPDATES/DISCUSSIONS

Multiamory March day 2

Multiamory March day 10

Multiamoey March day 11

Multiamory March day 16

Multiamory March day 20

Multiamory March day 28

Angsty April day 3

Whumpril day 8

Ghost's Soft April day 12

Whumpril day 12

Ghost's Soft April day 16

Whumpril day 19

Ghost's Soft April day 22

Whumpril day 23

Angsty April day 24

Angsty April day 26

Angsty April day 27

NWWNW Chapter 8 is Out!

Ghost's Soft April day 30

Whumpril day 30

Ghost's Romance May day 10

Ghost's Romance May day 21

Chapter 10 of NWWNW is out!

Chapter 11 of NWWNW is out!

FIC RECS

post doomsday rose fic recs

HEADCANONS

ASKS

missy x rose

harriet arbinger going back to work after Sutekh

twissy telepathy fic

victorian clara meets jack

REBLOGS

which companion do you think the doctor...

what did it mean when it said rose was compatible...

velichorus-k rose art

'Next time on Doctor Who!'

rarepair ships

the doctor would benefit more from hallucinating companions in time of need (+mini fic I wrote)

9/rose fic find, help?

73 yards

Doctor Who novelisations (2005-2023)

73 yards and music

dot

Doctor Who Video Essays

fuck, marry, kill, or travel with X character

Doctor Who mass crossover fancomic

legend of ruby sunday causes weird weather

rose art

RELATED TO DOCTOR WHO

which doctor who/percy jackson interaction would i like most?

send me an ask about...

about to meet the last character you wrote about...

send me art asks!

projecting onto characters

my oc v in nwwnw

talked with my mom about doctor who

(reblog) more stuff about being a god being dehumanizing

[brynn-lear]

.

if i were reader he'd be dead or in excruciating pain forever.

sorry what a way to start this post lmao hi yes I'm the biggest dain denier the biggest hater of this site ever that's right he is my number one opp, i ain't letting him slide how dare I be tagged here as a lover of dainsleif jess, you shall pay tenfold-

hold on let me turn on interactive fics.

THERE WE GO OHEMGEE BEST FIC EVER YEAAAAHHH I WONT BE BIASED IN MY REVIEW FR LETS GO

OH WE RIZZIN. WE RIZZIN FR FR

SO TRUE THIS READER IS SPEAKING FACTS

damn you used the line dainsleif told paimon-

i mean *cough* who, who's that, there's only

real, so true. Only Him.

oh we're fuckin winning. we're fucking, period.

so true i too would overwhelm dimitri with a bunch of weird ass gifts, he would drown in a mountain of gifts, facts, so true

okay i'll stop capping i genuinely feel bad, nah i actually wont do any of whatever this reader is doing cuz i have a conscience and im ace af T_T, and if bro cried i would cry and kneel and beg for forgiveness and throw myself into the holy light like no im so sorry dimitri no i would never hurt you im so so-

vampires can never hurt you /ref but this certainly would

see this is why its a good idea that i turned on interactivefics cuz if i didnt id be rejoicing but now im sobbing like no this poor baby he didnt deserve those flashbacks bro

damn, reader, talk about a heavy fricking question dawg

reader was not talking to dai dimitri she was talking to me

nah not the inteyvats tryina kill this dude.

bro let halfdan die at this point dawg T_T stop bringing him up for trauma-

brushing his hair does sound so lovely, he took that small joy from me, damn /silly

this is some harvest moon shit where the feather means it's from your mate isn't it, like clara and kree from tiktok-

okay ill stop yapping i still have a lot of fics to catch up on lol

⋆˚♱ଘ Phantom Pain ଓ♱˚⋆

When I wrote the first fic of my Yandere Church AU, I never expected it to expand into a whole series. Now it’s time for Cartaphilus! Dainsleif x Yandere! Demon! Reader………and yes, Dain is the darling in this fic ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ̀ˋ

I hope y’all enjoy their twisted story and the cameos to my previous fics!! Special thanks to my beta-reader @diodellet, @brynn-lear who helped me with Dain’s characterization, and all of my mutuals who listened to my brainrot~

Tw:: YANDERE, psychological trauma, blood, graphic violence, death, stalking, dubcon, noncon, mention of nsfw, MDNI, please take note of all of these warnings

Notes:: Female reader, FICTIONAL depictions of religion, inspired by Cartaphilus from The Ancient Magus’ Bride, I’m sorry Dain (*´꒳`*)

♡ 7.3k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns.

♡ After the Cataclysm, the survivors scattered across Teyvat. Many established secret communities to preserve their culture and find solace in companionship. Others settled in foreign nations, periodically assuming new identities to evade suspicion. And a few became travelers, moving from place to place with no home to call their own.

♡ One such traveler is Dainsleif. After failing to prevent the destruction of his nation, he began an endless journey around Teyvat. His initial goal was to protect his fellow survivors and seek a cure for their curse. But as Khaenri’ah faded from memory, so did its people. Many succumbed to pain, madness, violence—and despite his best efforts, Dainsleif was unable to save any of them. In the perpetual meantime of a cruel eternity, all he could do was travel onwards, clinging to a thread of hope.

♡ That all changes when he wanders into the ruins of an ancient temple, 300 years after the Cataclysm. Had he known it was a place of worship, Dainsleif would have camped outside. But the structure is abandoned, inconspicuous, a perfect shelter against the ongoing storm. So he goes inside, lighting the way with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. And only when he meets you does he realize he’d set foot in unholy ground.

♡ A pattern glows on the floor—a summoning circle he’d unknowingly stepped into, concealed with splatters of dried blood. From it, a winged figure emerges in a burst of light and slams him against the cracked tiles. Dizzily, he registers a strong hand pressing down on his neck, an aura of overwhelming divinity, a brilliant glare that strikes fear into his very soul.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Ah, let’s see. Just when I thought this place had succumbed to the elements, who has the insolence to summon me?”

In your divine presence, Dainsleif can only look up and take in your inhuman features. Sharp talons. Four wings with silvery black-and-gray feathers, resembling an eagle’s plumage. A single horn jutting from the left side of your head. Eyes as bright as miniature suns.

A demon. How in the world did he summon a demon?

He glances at the sigil etched on the floor. From what he knows of these rituals, they are only successful if specific instructions are followed and the demon’s true name is uttered. Was it because he used Khaenri’ahn sorcery within the summoning circle?

He meets your gaze. “I never intended—”

Your eyes widen. “Oh?”

Still gripping his neck, you lift him up and brush the loose strands of hair away from his face. The action uncovers his eyes, bright blue with pupils shaped like four-pointed stars.

“A Khaenri’ahn?”

At this point, Dainsleif doesn’t know what to do. He struggles in your grasp, only to stop when your talons dig into his skin. Your gaze remains locked onto his.

Slowly, your lips curve into a fanged smile.

“And such a pretty one at that.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Somehow, Dainsleif’s curse has saved him from your wrath. Still, he remains vigilant as you put him down and demand to hear his life story—why, when you have already glimpsed his soul? Reluctantly, he tells you everything from his previous life to the circumstances that brought him to your temple. Once he is finished, you allow him to stay in your temple until the storm ends.

♡ As you move, he notices a trio of jagged scars on your body—one on each shoulder, another one between your first pair of wings. He makes no mention of it, however, and instead asks for your identity. In response to that, you give him an enigmatic smile, whisper your true name, and promptly disappear. The only proof of your encounter is the dark bruise around Dainsleif’s neck.

♡ He doesn’t sleep well. At the crack of dawn, he gets up and does a quick exploration of the temple ruins. From the looks of it, it could be thousands of years old. There are sculpted images of suns, beasts, and paradises. The bloodstained floor implies a violent end for the previous intruders—or was it from your official summoning rituals? At any rate, one thing is clear: You are a powerful demon, one who was previously worshiped as a false god.

♡ He leaves after sunrise, relieved to have survived the ordeal…only for your paths to cross a few days later. And the week after that. Again and again. Most of the time, you appear out of nowhere, invisible to everyone except for Dainsleif. Other times, your presence manifests in a stray feather, inhuman shadows, the persistent feeling that he is being watched.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Oh, hello, Dain. Did you enjoy your drink?”

“...What have you done?”

In the dark alley, your bloody visage is a terrifying sight. A human is passed out at your feet, their arm covered in deep scratches and blackened veins.

Dainsleif takes a step back. That person…isn’t that the drunkard who tried to start a fight with him at the tavern?

A sinister smile appears on your face. “Don’t worry, I just cast a little curse on them.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ He doesn’t know what to make of his situation. In Khaenri’ah, demons were perceived as wicked creatures that lead humanity down the path of sin. You have yet to harm him, unless your plan is to lull him into a false sense of security first. It would certainly explain your frequent visits, your honeyed words, your cheerful demeanor around him.

♡ During your encounters, he asks you questions. As it turns out, it is difficult to find information on you. Humans usually refer to a specific demon by their title, so your true name is only useful when he is addressing you. You don’t reveal much about yourself, apart from the fact that your current role in Hell is torturing the souls of deceased sinners.

♡ The answer is found in the Sumeru Akademiya. The House of Daena has a forbidden archive that includes grimoires, research on spiritual beings, as well as related literature. It doesn’t take long for him to find the hidden room. As he examines the bookshelves, he notices a few written records of Khaenri’ah, all of which depict his people in a negative light.

♡ He begins with a book about the celestial hierarchy. According to the writer, there are nine ranks of angels and only the Second Order, the Cherubim, have two pairs of eagle wings. They also have four heads—human, lion, ox, eagle…and in the accompanying illustration, the animal heads are located in the exact same place as your scars.

♡ Next is the grimoire of Il Dottore. He flips through the section dedicated to demons, skimming the notes and sigils. There is the Puppeteer, the Fair Lady, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge whom Dottore formed a pact with, and so on. Finally, he comes across a familiar sigil.

The Beheaded Cherub

-True name: ______

-Created in the ███ Era, fell from grace in the ██████ Era

-Basic status: 1 head (human), 1 set of fangs (lion), 1 horn (ox), 2 pairs of wings and 10 talons (harpy eagle)

-One of the most powerful demons in Hell by virtue of her previous rank and her prominence in human cognizance. She was once venerated as a false god by the Temple of Light.

-Prior to her descent, she was called “the Beast of Beatitude.” █████ says her divine punishment was the loss of her animal heads and the development of her beastly traits.

-A unique specimen. It is a pity that I could not obtain a sample of her. If we meet again, more insight can be gained into the mental faculties of a fallen Cherub.

♡ The next page has an illustration drawn from memory. It’s you. An ornate choker protects your neck, and your expression is one of wrath. There is also a report of Dottore’s encounter with you: He’d trapped the Puppeteer via exorcism and obtained one of his wings. Before he could do worse, you suddenly appeared and rescued Scaramouche. Dottore theorized that you left without attacking him because you saw the Cherub’s skeleton in his laboratory.

♡ That book leads Dainsleif down a rabbit hole of texts. Historical records of the Temple of Light. Literary depictions of “the Beheaded Cherub.” The sketchbook of an artist whose muses were demons. Reports of mysterious curses that manifested in pain and disfigurement. All of those sources point to you.

♡ Well, one thing is clear: He is doomed. It’s bad enough that he is dealing with a spiritual being, what more a powerful one. It is at this moment that he senses your presence behind him.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“Hello, Dain. I see you’ve figured out who I am.”

This time, he doesn’t look at you. “You never told me of your appetite for humans. Just how many were sacrificed for the Temple of Light’s offerings?”

Silence. Dainsleif continues to face the desk, closing the book in his hands.

Finally, you answer him. “That was not my command. The Temple of Light was founded by one of my earliest humans. Most of their beliefs and rituals were his own ideas, believe it or not.”

“And where is he now? Is he one of those sinners that you are so fond of torturing?”

He can imagine the sight behind him: You, in all of your demonic glory, casting large shadows against the walls. It is easy to reconcile your image with your sinister depictions.

“No,” you reply. “Once a human dies, all of their pacts are broken. As such, I have no reason to maintain ties with my former humans, especially the one who gave me such a wretched title. I let my coworkers handle their punishments.”

“And do you intend to make a deal with me as well?”

It is the only rational explanation he can think of.

“Wrong again. As a matter of fact, demons cannot form pacts with Khaenri’ahns, hence our indifference to your kind. What use is there for a soul that will never enter Hell?”

Dainsleif glances at the Lesser Key of Deshret. According to that source, most humans sought you out for the purpose of cursing their enemies.

He turns around. “Let me ask you this. Why are you following me?”

In the candlelight, your gaze has never looked more intense. “Is it not enough to say that I am mesmerized by you?”

The look he gives you is one of pure doubt.

You stand in front of him, touching his half-mask.

“I saw it all, Dainsleif,” you tell him, “when I looked into your soul. Your righteousness as the Twilight Sword, your perseverance after the Cataclysm, the hope you’ve clung to for all these centuries…I find it all so fascinating.”

He pulls away, glaring. “Is that all? A mere sense of curiosity?”

You smile at him. “Well, there is also your beauty. When I look at you, I can almost understand why humanity is the only creation which God deemed perfect.”

“Your flattery is as banal as it is unwarranted,” he scoffs. Stepping aside, he tidies up the desk and returns the books to their shelves. “I have never received the favor of God in the past. I don't see any reason I would need yours now or in the future, either.”

That is when you burst into laughter.

“Are you sure about that? Believe me, Dain, I have a lot to offer.”

As you push him against the wall, your expression becomes deathly serious.

“Two centuries ago,” you whisper, “a Khaenri’ahn was burned at the stake in Fontaine. She survived, of course, but was left with scars that will never heal. Another one encountered the wrong group of heretics and, to this day, his body is being used for their rituals.”

“I…” Dread pools up in his stomach. Does he know those individuals?

“And just last year, I heard the Church of Snezhnaya discovered a community of Khaenri’ahns and buried everyone alive. They’re all trapped underground, barely conscious. But even if they are freed, I doubt their bodies could still function after being deprived of nutrients for so long.”

Snezhnaya…are you talking about the one led by Pierro?

“Oh, and how could I forget?” You lean closer, your eyes reflecting Dainsleif’s agonized face. “Long before the Cataclysm, the Tree of Life disappeared from the human realm. Nobody, not even the angels, knows if it still exists. What more for the Khaenri’ahns who dedicated their eternity to searching for it?”

No.

If the Tree of Life is gone…

Does that mean there is truly no way to break the curse?

At this point, Dainsleif is trembling. “______, please tell me you are—mph!”

There is nothing gentle about your kiss. The back of his head hits the wall, and his mask falls to the floor. When he tries to resist, you capture his wrists in an iron grip.

It’s too much. Panicking, he resorts to his Khaenri’ahn sorcery but the galaxy-like aura is easily extinguished by your radiant light. You spread your wings, caging him in silvery feathers. Sharp fangs graze his bottom lip. He can’t do anything. He has to call for help—

Footsteps echo outside the room.

Just as quickly as the idea comes to mind, Dainsleif falls silent. What is he thinking? What if the scholar sees his cursed marks and realizes he is a Khaenri’ahn?

He stays still, praying the door remains locked. When the footsteps recede, he slumps against the wall.

His relief isn’t lost on you. Pulling away, you trace the blue veins and black marks on his face. A sinful smile plays on your lips.

“Do you understand, darling? No one, not even God, will save you.”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ After that revelation, Dainsleif continues to wander Teyvat. But he does so aimlessly, in your company. There are attempts to ward you off—religious objects, carefully-worded negotiations, a few hours spent inside a church—but all end in your amused reactions. It becomes routine for you to meet him every few days, providing Mora for his expenses and information on the places he visits.

♡ Your threats are no laughing matter. Thankfully, your violence never exceeds the severity of your first meeting. A strong grip on his hand. Talons playfully tracing his cursed marks. There is that time you swooped in, picked him up, and threatened to drop him off a cliff for trying to hide from you…then you later brushed it off as an empty threat.

♡ You’re also very affectionate, if such a word can be used to describe a demon. At one point, you begin leaving gifts for him—a new cloak, bejeweled hairpins, gems in the same shade of blue as his eyes. He tries to decline your gifts on the basis of practicality but you’re difficult to persuade. Moreover, he keeps finding your stray feathers on his clothes.

♡ Then there is the matter of your physical intimacy. By now, Dainsleif is used to your kisses and cuddles. The worst part is when your hands wander, when you defile his body after sundown, when his resistance crumbles into moans and tears. Those nights always end in his skin tainted with love bites, teeth marks, light scratches. Thankfully, you are unable to brand him with your sigil though that doesn’t stop you from longingly biting the back of his neck.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“______, that’s enough.”

“Hmm?” You press another kiss to his shoulder. “What did you say?”

He gives you a tired look. “I need to sleep.”

Just how unending is a demon’s stamina? It’s past midnight, and he doubts he will be able to leave the bed later. Perhaps he can ask the innkeeper for an extension.

“All right.” You pull the blankets over the two of you. Then you wrap your arms around him, keeping him close. “I’ll give you enough Mora for a week’s stay.”

He lies on his side, staring at the wall. “You don’t have to.”

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. In a few minutes, your grip loosens and all Dainsleif can hear is his own breathing. Carefully, he turns over to face you.

…He never knows how to deal with you after your depravity has been exhausted. You’re always gentle as you clean him up and cuddle him in bed. When you sleep, you are no different from a corpse. No sounds, no movements, a neutral expression on your face.

Sighing, he shifts to a more comfortable position and closes his eyes.

When he wakes up, you are gone. Your side of the bed is still warm.

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ A few years later, you decide to accompany Dainsleif in a different form. It all starts when he meets a fellow traveler in Mondstadt. They’d camped in the same forest and it was hard to ignore them, especially when they asked for his help. In the end, Dainsleif relented and they explored the forest together. He thought it would be safe since you never visit him on Sundays.

♡ He leaves the forest the next morning, after agreeing to lunch at a nearby tavern. But when he arrives, he finds his acquaintance being restrained and dragged into a medical vehicle. They are absolutely feral, but most alarming are the wounds on their face. Before they pass out, Dainsleif makes eye contact with them and notices an indigo glint in their eyes.

♡ A waiter fills him in on what happened: His acquaintance suddenly went mad, made a mess in the tavern, and ran straight into a mirror. When Dainsleif visits them at the clinic, they are visibly disoriented, claiming they didn’t know what came over them. They are escorted home a few days later, their face covered in scars, and Dainsleif never sees them again.

♡ The next day, he is strolling around Mondstadt City when a familiar pair of arms wraps around him. He muffles a gasp and turns around to give you a subtle glare—have you forgotten that he is in public?—only to stop when he sees you. Your demonic features are gone, and you are wearing traveler’s attire. Moreover, the surrounding humans can also see you.

˖⋆‧˚✦

“So, darling, do you like my human guise?”

The smile hasn’t left your face. It’s natural, considering the fact that Dainsleif is the one holding your hand and leading you to a secluded spot.

He lets go of you. “What are you planning now?”

You frown, placing the same hand over your chest. “I just wanted to spend more time with you. It’s no fun when you ignore me in the presence of humans.”

“______.” Your name leaves his lips in an exasperated voice. “How can I be sure that you won’t draw more attention to me?”

“Hey, have more faith in me,” you pout. In this form, you look significantly less imposing. “I’ve used this guise many times in the past. And isn’t it easier for you to interact with me this way, rather than pretend I’m not right in front of you?”

It’s not like any amount of persuasion would work on you.

He sighs. “Well, that’s as good a reason as any. Follow me, then.”

With that, the two of you return to the Market District. Dainsleif orders two chicken-mushroom skewers, not missing the way your eyes sparkle when he asks you if you want anything else.

A few feet away, a Mondstadter casts a flirtatious glance at him. But before they can approach him, you wrap your arm around his waist and scare them off with a fervent glare.

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Your human guise brings about more changes in Dainsleif’s journey, from couple promos to less strangers bothering him. At times, you break away from him to pet wild animals or purchase items for yourself. In those moments, he can’t help but watch you from a distance. Your face is capable of many expressions, he observes, some of which are actually quite nice to look at.

♡ You also continue to share valuable information with him. Once, Dainsleif picks up a book entitled Molten Moment. In the foreword, the author claimed that it was based on the life of a demon they’d formed a pact with. Not only did you confirm the truth to their story, you also stop at a certain chapter. In it, the protagonist spoke to a Power whose true name was of Khaenri’ahn origin.

♡ That is how Dainsleif learns there are angels who look like Khaenri’ahns. They have the same starry eyes and facial features as his people, though God stopped creating them a long time ago. Many of them became demons for opposing the Cataclysm out of personal attachment to Khaenri’ah. And those who remained as angels rarely use their human guise in the present.

♡ And when Dainsleif asks about the Power featured in the book, you give him a sad smile. Then you say something about a fight you lost, sparring sessions, and regular conversations. In the present, however, your encounters with Il Capitano are only a painful reminder that you are “no longer at full strength.”

♡ You also explain that unlike angels, demons typically aren’t close with one another. Though you do mention a pair of younger demons that you took in after their descent. There is a soft look in your eyes every time you talk about Scaramouche and Pantalone, and you like to buy souvenirs for them. In times like this, Dainsleif is reminded of the family he lost, the home he can never return to.

˖⋆‧˚✦

Bright. It’s too bright.

Dainsleif looks up. The sky is crimson, reflecting the sea of flames consuming his homeland.

Beneath him, the ground shatters into fragments. Screams of terror echo in the distance. All around him, he is greeted with chaos and destruction.

Where is Halfdan? What happened to the Royal Guards? How many more people are going to meet their end?

Suddenly, a ray of light shines upon his nation, so bright that it hurts his eyes. What are those particles raining down from the sky?

It burns.

He falls to his knees, coughing. Something is wrong. His body…he raises his right hand and watches in horror as the skin becomes corrupted.

Amidst his pain, all he can think of are the people he failed to protect.

-

“Dain? Dain, wake up!”

The holy light disappears.

Blearily, Dainsleif opens his eyes to darkness. A hand is on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“What…?”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Your face comes into view. Gently, you pull him into a sitting position and rub soothing circles on his back. “It was just a dream.”

Another nightmare.

He glances at the window. The night sky is cloudy.

“Take deep breaths,” you continue. Your eyes, shining with a soft radiance, are the only source of light in the room. The tip of your wing brushes against his cheek—was he crying in his sleep?

For once, Dainsleif doesn’t back away from your touch. He leans against you, trying to steady himself, his gaze still fixed on the starless sky.

Hesitantly, you ask, “It was about the Cataclysm, wasn’t it? Do you want to talk about it?”

“...There is no need,” he mumbles. “My dreams are a rarity. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine.”

He draws back, taking note of your worried expression. “Did I startle you?”

“Ah, not really,” you reply. Strands of hair are tangled around your horn, and you comb them out with your fingers. “....Though if I’m going to be honest, a part of me was curious.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your wings twitch. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…I’ve always wondered what a nightmare feels like, since I am incapable of dreaming.”

“I see…is that a common trait amongst demons?”

You shake your head. “No. In fact, it’s one of the first abilities a demon gains after their descent. But in the millennia since I’ve been cast out of Heaven, I haven’t had a single dream.”

His gaze drifts to your scars. “Does it have something to do with your divine punishment?”

As soon as you look away, he realizes it was a correct guess.

“Say, darling,” you mutter. “Can you stand the sight of your cursed marks?”

He looks at his right hand. “At one point, I stopped dwelling on it.”

“Well, at least those marks are easy to cover up.”

This time, Dainsleif is the one staring at you.

This isn’t his first time seeing cracks in your demeanor. He has noticed many over the years, from the occasional headache to your wistful gaze directed at eagles flying overhead. Once, you suddenly flinched and touched one of your scars, only to brush it off when he asked about it.

Even if you take pride in your demonic visage, it doesn’t erase the scars of your past.

“Do you believe your god to have punished you fairly?”

You meet his gaze, frowning. “What did you say?”

“Forgive me for being direct,” he tells you. “You do not pry into my secrets, so I never pried into yours…but if you would like to tell me, I will listen.”

For a few seconds, you just stare back at him. Are you glimpsing his soul again? From his end, all he can see is your gaze turning dim.

“My answer is no.”

Your expression turns bitter. Dainsleif lets you elaborate.

“When I was an angel,” you whisper, “I used all four of my heads. Seeing the world from every angle, speaking in different sounds, expressing multiple emotions at once…those abilities are what set the Cherubim apart from the rest of God’s creations.”

Your jewelry glitters on the nightstand. Earlier today, you’d worn an esclavage necklace with three cameo pendants. Each pendant bears the image of an animal—a lion, an ox, an eagle.

“So you can imagine how difficult it was to lose them,” you continue. You grip your upper arms, talons digging into your skin. “My beastly heads, all reduced to dust before my remaining eyes. And even then, our creator did not spare what was left of my body.”

A mirror hangs on the wall. It perfectly reflects Dainsleif’s cursed marks and your sorrowful countenance.

“This face was perfectly human until I grew fangs. My talons will always be in my line of sight. And don’t even get me started on the differences between halos and horns. It’s not…!”

Your voice cracks. At the same time, Dainsleif scoots closer to you.

In the dark, your expression looks tired. Resigned.

“So who cares if I looked down on humanity?” you mumble. “Why couldn’t I be forgiven? By now, I’ve lived over half of my life as a demon and yet…it still hurts.”

That ends your confession. You stare at your lap, wings lowered.

What is he supposed to say in this scenario?

From the beginning, Dainsleif knew it would be meaningless to believe in baseless depictions of demons. Still, it’s perplexing to see this side of you, to feel sympathy for the present source of his vexation and anxiety.

Yet in this moment, he finds himself reaching out to you. He copies your soothing gesture from earlier, placing his hand on the area between your wings.

You allow it, resting your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, you break the silence.

“You know, darling, I’ve always wondered…why do you remain unchanged? Why do you still choose to live righteously when you will never be rewarded with a place in Heaven?”

He looks you in the eye. “That was never my goal. All I’ve ever dreamed of was peace. So even if there is no more hope for me…there must be for my fellow humans.”

At that, you hold his cursed hand and give him a pitying look.

“But darling…at this point, can you even call yourself human?”

˖⋆‧˚✦

♡ Decades pass. Dainsleif continues to wander Teyvat, with you as his sole companion. By now, he has long grown tolerant of your presence…and he has even begun to crave it on the days when you are busy in Hell. But he keeps it a secret, along with the sparks of attraction that he is beginning to feel towards you. Instead, he chalks it up to loneliness. That must be it.

♡ Despite that, his affection reveals itself in subtle gestures. Mint brew for your headaches. Practical gifts such as gloves and weapons. Once, the two of you were exploring Dragonspine when he noticed that your scarf had loosened. He adjusted it for you, careful not to touch your scars; and after your initial shock, you stared ahead and quietly thanked him.

♡ These days, he can’t find any Khaenri’ahns apart from a few descendants. In those cases, he has a short conversation with them then leaves without divulging their ancestry. It’s enough to know that those individuals are spared from the curse and able to live ordinary lives, though he wonders if their ancestors are doing well. He can’t make any new friends, either, due to your possessive nature though he does get acquainted with your “family.”

♡ One day, he wanders Liyue on his own and encounters a bespectacled local. He introduces himself as Pantalone and commissions Dainsleif to collect Noctilucous Jade for him. With nothing else to do, Dainsleif accepts the job but is later paid a much higher price than the 500 Mora he’d charged. But when he objects, Pantalone gives him a saccharine smile and tells him that he is “merely showing generosity towards his Jiejie’s pet.” Then he disappears.

♡ A year after that encounter, you attend the concert of a Snezhnayan singer. The Balladeer has an emotional voice, but Dainsleif is distracted by a familiar glint in their eyes. After the performance, you bring him to the dressing room. The Balladeer is slumped over a chair, their eyes branded with a sigil, and an indigo-eyed demon looms over them. As you congratulate Scaramouche on “another excellent possession,” Dainsleif dreadfully recalls the traveler he met in Mondstadt.

♡ He confronts you about it in your hotel room. A part of him did suspect your involvement in his acquaintance’s disfigurement, but it’s different when you are guiltlessly confirming it. After a fiery argument, Dainsleif goes to sleep and coldly ignores you for the remainder of his stay in Snezhnaya. It was foolish of him to forget about your sinister nature.

♡ Not long after, he realizes that he hasn’t seen you in days. That is odd—usually, you inform him in advance if you have to stay in Hell for an extended period. Or did his outrage finally have its desired effect on you? He continues his journey, nonetheless, but it feels…different. Since meeting you, he had the assurance that his solitariness is only short-lived, that you’d always come back to bother him. But now? He isn’t so sure.

♡ He stops finding molted feathers on his clothes. When he looks in the mirror, he notices that your love bites have all but faded completely from his body. At the sight of his cursed marks, he recalls the nights you’d spend lovingly tracing the corrupted skin. You once told him that the luminous veins compliment his blue eyes, and his response had been a withering look.

♡ He goes to Sumeru. The House of Daena has undergone multiple renovations, and the secret archive has been moved to a new room. He rereads the texts about you and Khaenri’ah, taking note of each inaccuracy. How many years ago was his last visit? Has it really been 200 years since the day he crossed paths with you? So much has changed since then.

♡ Afterwards, Dainsleif finds himself wandering the area near Khaenri’ah. He hasn’t set foot in his homeland ever since the Cataclysm, but memory is a dangerous temptation. Just as he is about to walk away, he hears a loud sob and runs into the ruins.

♡  He finds a young person kneeling in a patch of Inteyvat flowers, hands clasped in prayer. When he calls out to them, they lift their head to reveal tears and star-shaped pupils in their eyes. Their face, however, is pristine. Are their cursed marks concealed with makeup? Or are they just a descendant of Khaenri’ah? Dainsleif crouches in front of them, offering his help…and that is when the person’s destitute expression twists into an eerie grin.

♡ Suddenly, the Inteyvat wrap around his limbs, restraining him. A heavy weight strikes the back of his head—the blunt side of a sword? Through his blurry vision, he watches as a celestial halo and a pair of glittery wings emerge from the body of the “Khaenri’ahn.” Two similar silhouettes appear near them, one in bronze armor and the other adorned with flowers. Everything goes dark.

♡ When he wakes up, he is in what seems to be a church. His body is chained to the altar and he feels dizzy, fading in and out of consciousness. From the looks of the stained-glass windows, it is already night. Beside him is a wounded figure, also restrained, more skeleton than flesh. They blankly stare ahead, unresponsive to his questions, and…is that Halfdan?

♡ The horrifying revelation is worsened by the presence of his attackers. From what Dainsleif can recall of the books he’d read, they are angels from the Second Sphere. The Dominion’s starry gaze is full of hatred as they narrate his comrade’s life after the Cataclysm. Halfdan had stayed behind to search for survivors, up until the angels took over their home. And in the decades since, he had been starved, tortured, kept alive only by the curse.

♡ By the end of their speech, all hope has left Dainsleif. Already, he is on the brink of passing out again and the chains have neutralized his Khaen’riahn sorcery. How can fate be so cruel to him? As the Dominion flies over to him, their multiple eyes blazing with cruelty, he whispers an apology to Halfdan and braces himself for a new world of suffering.

♡ Except they never lay a hand on him. In a burst of light, a taloned hand grabs the Dominion by the halo and slams them against the marble tiles. The other angels scream and cower in fear, a familiar name leaving their lips. Halfdan remains catatonic. As for Dainsleif, all he feels is pure relief at the sight of his savior.

♡ At this moment, you have never looked scarier. Your face is twisted in an expression of animalistic rage, and your glare could outshine the sun. You curse the Dominion this time, followed by the Virtue and the Power, before flying over to Dainsleif and breaking his chains. Before he faints again, he manages to point at Halfdan and beg you to help him as well.

♡ How long was he asleep? When he wakes up, the stained-glass windows are all shattered to reveal a sky the color of twilight. He and Halfdan have been moved to a corner of the church, kept warm by a blanket. And when he looks around the holy sanctuary, all he can see is carnage.

♡ Pieces of armor and flesh are scattered across the floor—the Power, brutally dismembered. Slumped against the double doors is the body of the Virtue, flowers and wings ripped off their cursed body. A rhythmic pattern of thuds directs his attention to the altar, where you are torturing the Dominion.

♡ They’re still alive, but barely. The eyes on their wings have been gouged out, and their halo has been reduced to fragments. You are bashing their face against the altar repeatedly—for how long? They have been disfigured beyond recognition. You ignore their desperate cries for forgiveness, only stopping when Dainsleif calls out to you.

♡ And just like that, your demeanor shifts from ferocity to concern. A loud crack echoes in the church as you finish off the Dominion and leave their corpse on the altar. Then you go over to Dainsleif, reassuring him that he is safe. But in the warmth of your embrace, he can only look at Halfdan.

♡ It’s too late for him. Irreparable damage has already been done to his body, what more for his psyche. Still, Dainsleif finds himself speaking to Halfdan, staring into his blank eyes, asking you if anything can be done to alleviate his pain. And when you ask him how badly he wants to put his comrade out of his misery…he understands the implication. And he tells you to do it.

♡ He doesn’t know if Halfdan can hear him. Nonetheless, Dainsleif forces a smile on his face, thanks him for faithfully doing his duty, and lies about the fate of Khaenri’ah. Then he moves aside, allowing him to crouch in front of Halfdan. Gently, you touch his face and whisper something to him. Then you spread your wings, blocking Dainsleif’s view.

♡ There is another crack. When you fold your wings, Halfdan’s head has been crushed and you are staring into his blank eyes. Glimpsing his soul, you confirm his comatose state and comfort Dainsleif. The rest of the day is spent preparing a makeshift grave and burying Halfdan in it. When you finally leave Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif turns back to face the ruins of his homeland. He hopes that his comrade is having a nice dream.

 ˖⋆‧˚✦

“I can do this by myself, you know.”

“I know. Now stay still, won’t you?”

“Right now, your health is more important.”

“And who are you to decide that?”

“______.” He gives you an exasperated look in the mirror and takes the comb out of your hands. “I am perfectly capable of brushing my own hair.”

The mirror reflects your stubborn expression. “But Dain—”

“I insist.” His gaze drifts to your bandaged shoulder, followed by the bruises near your neck. “Get some rest.”

“Oh, fine.” Shaking your head, you walk away from the vanity table.

Dainsleif faces his reflection. Aside from a bruise on the back of his head, his body is unharmed by the angel attack. To think it has only been a few hours since he left Khaenri’ah and returned to Shapur Hotel with you. He doesn’t know how he managed to get through dinner in his grief-stricken state.

At least his physical pain has subsided. And he feels better after taking a bath, though you were insistent on joining him. You wouldn’t even let him hold the hairdryer.

“Where on earth are my feathers?”

The facade of normalcy is broken by your sudden outburst. When Dainsleif turns to you, he sees you sifting through the clothes he’d just worn.

You give him an indignant look. “No wonder those angels didn’t know—What were you even doing in Khaenri’ah? Couldn’t you have at least waited for me to accompany you?!”

“...I kept them in my bag,” he answers. He walks over to the desk, where he’d placed his mask and the satchel you’d gifted him ten years ago. “I never knew there was a rational purpose to your feathers. I thought it was merely a sign of ownership.”

“Huh? Were you blind to the feathers on my brothers’ clothes?”

“That, I believed to be your equivalent of a family symbol.”

“In the past two centuries, did you even think of asking me about it?!”

He did try, at the start of your companionship, and you only said that he’d regret wasting your feathers. But Dainsleif knows better than to say that right now.

So instead, he yields to your embrace. This close, he can feel your body shaking.

“Do you know how frightened I was when I realized what happened to you?” you whisper.

“Now I do,” he mumbles. He hugs you back, positioning his hands below your lower wings. “Thank you for saving me.”

After a few minutes, he is the one to break the silence.

“Where were you these past weeks? I wondered if we’d ever meet again.”

“Oh, that? I just had a lot on my plate. Another headache, a new batch of sinners…and I figured you’d want some time to yourself. Ah, and I almost forgot!”

This time, you pick up your bloodstained clothes and take something out of your pocket.

“Here.” Facing him, you open the velvet box in your hands.

His eyes widen. “Oh, that’s…”

A ring. This isn’t the first one he has received from you, but it looks special. The gold band is engraved with intricate stars. The stone in the center is smooth, lustrous, with a radiant glow.

“What mineral is this?” he asks.

You tilt your head, and that is when he notices your horn. It looks normal at first glance, but it is shorter by a single inch.

“I commissioned one of the best craftsmen in Hell,” you explain. “How’s this? It should be easier to wear than my feathers, don’t you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” he admits, but his gaze hasn’t left your horn. “Was it—”

“It’s fine.” It sounds like the reassurance isn’t only for him. But he can tell that your smile is genuine. “It’ll grow back.”

“All right, then.” He allows you to lift his cursed hand and slip the ring onto his finger. “…Thank you for the gift.”

“Now, why don’t we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

With that, Dainsleif follows you to the bed. As always, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your torso against his back. Your wings also hug him, caging him in silvery feathers.

You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

He stares ahead. “If you insist.”

The window showcases the second twilight of the day. You continue speaking.

“Tomorrow, do you want to have dinner at Lambad’s Tavern? It’s been a while since we enjoyed a drink together.”

“Sure,” he says. Already, he can feel the temptation of sleep. “And afterwards?”

A taloned fingertip traces the blue veins on his palm. “We can go wherever you want. There are a lot of new places to visit in Sumeru. I’ve heard of a new resort that opened in Inazuma. Oh, and if we leave for Liyue next week, we can get there in time for the Lantern Rite Festival.”

He intertwines your fingers. “I see. That sounds nice.”

He turns his head, facing you. Your eyes are bright, reflecting the stars in his own gaze.

“We can make our decision tomorrow.” With that, you give him a soft smile and close your eyes. “Sweet dreams, Dain.”

“Good night.”

He remains awake, however, long after the sky has turned dark. His hand is still in yours, his new ring glowing brighter than his cursed marks.

…He doesn’t know what to do, honestly. In two days, he has experienced so much, felt so many emotions, and he has yet to process it all. And there is still the winding road of eternity ahead of him, a future that promises anything but salvation. But tonight…

Tonight, he shall close his eyes and accept his fate.

Perhaps he will even dream of you.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

At long last…..Dain’s fic has been written. This has been in my drafts since April, and I’m really happy with how it turned out!! Also, if the first few bullet points look very familiar, that’s because Pierro’s fic also begins with my worldbuilding for Church AU! Khaenri’ah~

Aahhh I had a lot of fun with Darling! Dainsleif and his demon wife. I rlly enjoyed writing their dynamic, so this definitely isn’t the last time I write for them. Who knows?? Maybe I’ll spare Dain and give him less suffering (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Tag a Dainsleif enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @naraven @pranabefall @navxry @teabutmakeitazure @mochinon-yah @harmonysanreads @stickyspeckledlight

[melancholiaenthroned]

10 characters | 10 fandoms | 10 tags

i was tagged by @bladeofavernus tyyyy<3 i rlly struggled to think of 10 fandoms im currently in (that had characters i care a lot about. sorry malevolent) but this was fun! not tagging 10 ppl bc im insecure and dont want to be a bother but ! not in any particular order but here they r

michelle carter (dc comics) the realization that i can only pick one dc character for this... so scary. idk if michelle is my favorite dc character ever but shes certainly up there and right now shes at the top of my brain... what does it mean to walk out of the fridge... what does it mean when everyone remembers you dying except for you... hes mourned you but youre back and you didnt even know you were gone... funerals are for the living....

paige duplass (the silt verses) my girlllll augh. augh. my false prophet... its been going not great for her lately and every scene with her recently makes me want to rip my heart out and sob and sob and sob. she just wants to fix the whole world. is that too much to ask. it might be. ill support her forever tho idc if her godchild fucks up and destroys the whole earth i will always be on her side. she went to business school shes a star employee shes an alcoholic shes mother mary. shes everything

amanda young (saw) you knew she was gonna be here i love her so bad. ive spoken at length about amanda before u all know my thoughts. saw iii you will always be famous

jung heewon (orv) thought id throw in a recent interest even tho im still no where done orv^_^ jhw is my favorite so far ever since her scene where she first used judgement day... i love the avenging angel type of character esp the way she does it (attack dog baby!) and i love her dynamic with the rest of the group.

kim kitsuragi (disco elysium) everyday i am thinking about him if you dont see me post about him know that im still thinking about him. i miss him bad

clara (pathologic) shes just a baby... i love her... i love a girl who is silly but so tragic i love a girl who was born in an empty grave i love a girl with frightening powers she doesnt understand i love a girl placed in a situation outside of her control who is still blamed when it goes wrong.

apollo (wildstorm) doesnt count as dc ok. im reaching here im rlly not into that many things its mostly just dc comics. but its his wildstorm self i actually care about sooo counting it. i miss when he killed ppl

calroy cruller (dimension 20) sorry im gonna be a calroy head forever probably hes so special to me. i love villain monologues i love treason i love betrayal.

sasha (borderlands) not into borderlands anymore but she makes this list bc sasha isnt a borderlands character to me ok shes a dear friend. i love her forever even if i will probably never play those games again. ok thats a lie but ill probably never talk about them online again. ok thats a lie too

eddie brock (marvel) it was truly a struggle to think of ten fandoms i currently care about um. i dont even like current venom comics. but eddie will always be special to me i love u insane girl<3

not tagging anyone today im way too tired to think of ppl sorryyyy but if u want to do this just say i tagged u 👍

[mirrorball-leclerc]

the blue - part three

masterlist previous next

i think i like her...

WOAH!

WHAT?

WHO?

forget i said anything

NO! WE ARE NOT FORGETTING THIS SHIT!

OSCAR JACK PIASTRI YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!

WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

amelia.

OH I FUCKING KNEW IT! DANIEL OWES ME SO MANY STROOPWAFELS!

you bet on this? what are you twelve?

on a scale of 1-10, yes.

forget i said anything, it'll go away.

oscar

besides it's not like she isn't in love with harrison.

but harrison's a dick, you aren't. she can't like him!

oh, but she does. i can tell by the way she talks about him.

well, we better get to work in convincing her to like you. because personally i will be rooting for oscmelia? amscar? what's the ship name? hiastri? hoastri? polland?

read 19:23

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

ameliaholland seattle you've been awesome! santa clara, you're next. i can't believe this is almost over.

p.s. mum, i'm so sorry for what i've done. but they do say hair holds memories.

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tomholland2013 WHAT DID YOU DO? GET IT BACK!

samholland1999 EXCUSE ME? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?

paddyholland2004 you look like a boy now.

harryholland64 ignore them. i think you look great

↳ ameliaholland this is why you're my favorite brother harry ❤️

username sam and tom losing their shit over amelia's hair is hilarious

username paddy is giving typical little brother behavior.

landonorris it's giving me when i went bald during quarantine

↳ ameliaholland BALDO WAS A THING? I THOUGHT DANNY WAS LYING?

↳ danielricciardo i would never lie about baldo

↳ username lando getting called baldo is hilarious.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

ameliaholland it's over? and i'm crying like a baby. i can't believe i got to perform on the same stage as THE taylor swift. swifties, thank you for all the love and support you've given me. taylor, thank you so much for giving me this opportunity and performing i miss you, i'm sorry with me. little amelia would be screaming in joy at this opportunity.

tagged: taylorswift

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tomholland2013 i'm so proud? and i'm crying? what the hell?

↳ ameliaholland you love me, that's why.

hazosterfield you killed it amelia. so proud of you.

landonorris YOU KILLED IT BEST FRIEND!

↳ ameliaholland THANK YOU BEST FRIEND! YOU OWE ME A VACATION!

danielricciardo you never answered my question amelia

↳ ameliaholland the answer is no

↳ username what was the question??

taylor swift thank you for joining me. it's been a pleasure getting to know you 🩵

↳ ameliaholland MOTHER! thank you for having me 🩵

oscarpiastri so are we finally getting breakfast or what?

↳ ameliaholland if you can get out of bed on time.

↳ username is he flirting? is this ship sailing?

↳ username i was rooting for her and lando

↳ username they're just friends

lilymhe can't wait to met you!

↳ ameliaholland so excited!

she found herself in front of harrison, the older boy having corned her as soon as she was left alone. amelia had resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the sight of him. his girlfriend was around the club somewhere. tom had been insistent on celebrating her arrival as soon as she was home. he had even given lando and oscar a heads up so they could be there. she was waiting for their arrival, she had missed the two mclaren boys, even if they had only hung out once, they had become her closest friends.

harrison looked at her, "have i done something to upset you?"

amelia scoffed, "have you done something to upset me? are you stupid?"

harrison looked surprised, "so i did do something. what was it? how can i fix it?"

"you can't fix it, besides i'm just your best mate's sister and that's all i'll ever be." recognition flashed across his eyes and amelia was hurt, "so you do remember. do me a favor harrison, leave me alone."

"stop writing songs about me."

she scoffed once again, "i'll stop when i stop feeling hurt by your actions. you strung me along, for over a year. and somehow you managed to get a girlfriend and just decided, 'hey, little amelia likes me, i'll emotionally cheat on my girlfriend with her.' this isn't something you can fix harrison, not anymore."

"what about you and piastri? anything there?"

"why do you care? we're nothing, we never have been. stop being a dick to me and go find your girlfriend."

harrison looked taken aback and opened his mouth to reply when amelia felt an arm land across her shoulders, "baby holland! you're back home!"

amelia turned and was met with the sight of daniel ricciardo. she smiled brightly at him forgetting all about harrison. daniel turned to harrison, acknowledging him for the first time, "i'm daniel and you are?"

"harrison," he replied, "i should go find my girlfriend."

"fucking dick," daniel muttered.

"what are you doing here?" amelia questioned the older australian. daniel smiled at her, "we're also on break for the moment."

"have you seen oscar? is he here?"

"oh yeah, he's been excited to see you. lando too. he invited a few of the guys who wanted to meet you. maxie wanted to know all about the girl who replaced him as lando's best friend."

"please don't tell me max verstappen hates me."

"oh no, maxie's a big softie when you get to know him. i also think this was pierre's excuse to get drunk and nando's."

"fernando alonso is here? oh my god. the fernando alonso?"

“wow, i don’t think you were this excited when we first met.”

“technically, this is our first time officially meeting,” amelia reminded him, “and you’re also not fernando alonso.”

“amelia!” lando shouted as he spotted the brunette. he approached her with oscar and max verstappen behind him. once she was closer lando ran to her, hugging her, “you’re back!”

“really? i thought i was still in la,” she joked. daniel and max laughed. amelia turned to oscar, pulling him into hug, “you okay?”

oscar nodded, “daniel got the worst of it,” amelia looked at him in the eyes. brown met brown and she knew he wasn’t lying. not that it mattered if he lied, they were just friends. not that she wanted to be anything else, but she had learned to value genuine friendships. especially friendships in hollywood, because there you didn’t who was truly your friend or who simply wanted to gain something from you.

max coughed, “max verstappen,” he said holding his hand out. amelia rolled her eyes pulling him into a hug, “i’m a hugger, i also know who you are. i’m amelia holland.”

“oh i know, i’ve heard all about you from lando.”

“jealous?”

“of a pre-teen? no fucking way.”

“i’m 21!” she exclaimed. max laughed, “you don’t look it.”

amelia laughed, "well thank you for coming. enjoy your night, drinks are on my brother. i have to go get ready."

"ready?" oscar questioned, "ready for what?"

"you didn't think i wouldn't be singing at my welcome home party did you?"

before anyone could answer, a very excited logan sargeant bumped into oscar, "dude, i just met zendaya, she's so cool. i think esteban almost fainted at the sight of tom," he noticed the girl with them, "oh, hello. logan sargeant."

"oscar's best friend," she remembered, "amelia holland."

"oh, i get it now."

"get what?"

"nothing, what's this i head about a song?" logan said, "are we getting serenaded by THE amelia holland?"

amelia laughed again, she liked these guys. they all made her laugh like no one else ever had. when she had gone to monaco she assumed all the guys would be stuck up like most celebrities and influencers she had met before. but all of the guys she had met were down to earth and genuine guys.

"i really have to go now," amelia said, pulling away from daniel, "hope you guys enjoy the new songs!" she shouted behind her. lando gasped, grabbing max and oscar and pulling them to the front of the crowd that was in front of the stage.

amelia stepped up on the stage, grabbing a guitar, before sitting down, "hello, i'm amelia, as you know. first off, i want to thank you all for coming tonight, it means so much that all of you care this much about me. second, i um wrote a couple of songs that i wanted all of you to hear first before i put them out to the world," the crowd cheered and amelia blushed, "the first one i wrote a few months ago when i was in a bad place so this is lacy."

oscar watched mesmerized as the girl sang. he noticed the blonde beside him who looked enamoured with amelia but ignored it. besides the guy was holding hands with a girl, there was no way he was being that bold in front of his girlfriend. as the song came to an end lando began screaming like a goat, making max and oscar cringe, while others laughed at him.

amelia cleared her throat, "this next one was written around the same time and it's a very emotional song so i apologize in advance if i cry," the crowd laughed, "i would also like to invite a specific person on stage to play the piano. we met back in monaco and decided to write a song together. charles, please join me on stage."

pierre cheered loudly as he pushed his best friend on stage. charles smiled at the crowd before sitting down in front of the piano. amelia put her guitar down, moving to stand in front of the piano. she nodded at charles and began playing the opening chords to the song. it was a beautifully tragic song, a song that seemed to encapture amelia and charles. the tears made her eyes shine and charles nodded to the empty seat next to him, amelia sat next to him, still singing while laying her head on his shoulder. when the song came to an end charles stood and amelia hugged him, he wrapped his arms around her and whispered something. she nodded before letting him go.

amelia took a deep breath, "this last one was written on my final night of the eras tour and the flight back home. it's also the closing song to this little trilogy. i hope you enjoy it. this is love is embarrassing."

as the song came to a close the blonde next to oscar turned away and left. his girlfriend went after him, looking confused as lando and danny burst into laughter. oscar smiled at her as she ended her performance, around them people laughed and cheered for her. she bowed at the crowd before jumping off stage into her brothers arms.

oscar turned to lando, “who was the guy? the one who left?” daniel who stood behind them laughed, “oh that guy? i’m guessing he’s the weird second string loser not worth mentioning, aka harrison.”

“that guy?” lando questioned, “well, he’s got nothing on oscar.”

“lando!”

“pay up verstappen!” daniel shouted, “i fucking told you!”

max grumbled something under his breath before pulling out a few bills and slapping them on daniel’s hand, daniel shouted in glee. amelia approached them, interrupting daniel from further celebrating and teasing oscar. oscar rolled his eyes and walked away towards the bar, he was going to need a drink or five if he was going to get through the night with his coworkers. he wasn't sure if all of them were his friends yet, but he was sure logan and lando could be called his friends.

“baby holland! you fucking killed it!” daniel exclaimed, “really loved that last song. ballsy singing it in front of the inspiration.”

amelia cringed but was interrupted by lando, “you and charles? why wasn’t i informed of this? i’m your best friend! how did you two even meet?”

“he was near the red bull garage when i got lost,” amelia answered, "we started talking about music and we exchanged numbers in case we ever wanted to work together."

"so, you and him. not again?" logan questioned. amelia shook her head, "no fucking way."

"good," lando said, "he never deserved you. speaking of, where's oscar?"

amelia looked around, spotting the australian by the bar, cornered by her brothers, "oh no. i have to go rescue him."

oscar found himself cornered by the three holland brothers at the bar. sam and tom tried looking menacing but they couldn't pull it off, they looked like upset puppies. harry simply looked amused at his brothers actions. tom was the first one to break the silence, "what are your intentions with our sister?"

"i'm sorry?" oscar questioned.

"you heard him, what are your intentions with our sister?" sam questioned.

"are they being serious?" oscar asked harry. harry nodded, "they're overprotective, especially considering what the last one did to her. just don't hurt her, please. i've learned that lia does whatever lia wants, if she wants to be with you, she'll be with you."

before oscar could reply or the other two holland boys could protest amelia approached them, "hey, what's going on?"

"nothing," all four boys replied. amelia gave them a look but they all stuck to their story, nothing had happened. amelia shrugged before dragging oscar away from her brothers. the three of them watched her walk away as oscar looked down at her, nothing but adoration in his eyes. the two of them joined a group full of oscar's coworkers, amelia looking happy to be with them.

"she'll be fine," harry assured his brother, "i think he really cares about her."

"we thought harrison did too," sam pointed out.

"he's not harrison," harry defended, "she'll be fine. stop being idiots and let her live her life."

ameliaholland love is embarrassing, the ep. out now.

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landonorris AMELIA MIDDLE NAME HOLLAND HOW DARE YOU KEEP THIS FROM US??

↳ ameliaholland oh shut up, you heard the majority of this before anyone else did, only one song is new to you.

↳ landonorris yeah and it's the best one?

username SHE'S IN HER RED ERA!!

username CHARLES? CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?

username favorite lyric, i'll start first, 'just watch as i crucify myself for some weird second string loser not worth mentioning.

↳ username 'and i despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you'

↳ danielricciardo ALL OF IS IT OVER NOW!!

↳ oscarpiastri the bridge in logical

↳ landonorris EVERYTHING! I LOVE EVERYTHING!

↳ username holy shit

maxverstappen1 it's an okay ep. i could've done better

↳ ameliaholland as if, i bet i could drive your silly little car but you could never write a bridge like me

↳ maxverstappen1 i'd like to see you try

↳ ameliaholland you're just bitter because i'm lando's best friend.

i think i like him...

¡leclerc-s speaks! ooh, what's this, mutual pining? also i have an issue in making charles be the one playing the piano in my ocs songs. this is not the first time it has happened but i love him and i can't help it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!