#and while my abuse will always be a part of me it will not prevent me from being happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

some-bunniii · 1 year ago

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Lucifer breaks your deal with Alastor

・❥ Your soul is owned by Alastor, and Lucifer is not pleased about it.

x: OVER 20k words!? strap in ya’ll, it’s a roller coaster.

xx: reader is g/n. no use of y/n. if you want to read it in chapter-form, you can read it over on my ao3 here.

warnings: adult themes, abuse, angst

‘Alright, deep breaths. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced this so much it’s a cakewalk, so just take it easy. You’ll rock it, like always.’

“Oi! Welcome to the show, ya dirty sinners! Didn’t think ya’d see me all the way up here, did’ja?!”

Screams and cheers echoed from the seats below, as the voice of the King of Greed boomed from the loudspeakers.

"Well, listen up, ya pitiful souls! I've got a craving for some more cash, so I've decided to bring the whole shebang right here to the heart of sin, Pentagram City!"

The cheering erupted once more, the spotlights danced across the sandy pit underneath the large circus tent. On the perimeter were rows and rows of stands, packed with demons nestled against each other.

It was Mammon’s first circus show in the Pride Ring, a very rare sight to see him leave his cozy little ring in general. But, when a good portion of your fans are sinners who can’t leave without being incinerated, then you have to receive them on their home turf.

In the large pit, two lions jumped obediently through hoops, their handlers shouting commands and cracking their whips to further spur the cat’s maneuvers.

Bright green flame danced around the lion’s faces, resembling that of a large mane. Their eyes were soulless, black pits that glimmered in the bright lights as they continued maneuvers through the tight obstacles.

On the edges of the pit, support poles towered above the crowd. Thin wires snaked across them, anchored to large platforms that hung in the air from the pole’s side.

“As ya can see, we’ve got a big show tah’night! Lots of great fuckin’ acts for ya mongrels to eat up. But, before we get to the juicy bits, direct your eyes up to the ceiling to get a look at our first performance!”

Hundreds of gazes lifted to sky, the spotlights below beaming upward towards a platform at one end of the tent.

Bright, white lights hit your vision, and you squinted your eyes to prevent them from burning to a crisp from the focused beams.

You stood, your bare feet planted firmly against the platform’s white surface. Before you, a tightrope connected your place to another platform in the distance, beckoning you.

A small hoop hung from the ceiling, encircling a small portion of the wire. The trick was that it was too small for you to stand up straight while walking through it, so you’d need to limbo underneath it.

"As you can see, we've got some sorry sap up there that is about to practically walk on thin air! See that hoop over there? They're fixin' to stroll right through it."

Small ooh’s and ahh’s emanated from the crowd, their eyes darting from you to the hoop.

"But hold your horses, folks! That ain't your run-of-the-mill hoop, no sir! That, my friends, is a hoop on fuckin’ fire!!”

Suddenly, the hoop ignited in a burst of green flames, illuminating the area before you. Gulping, you took another deep breath, steadying yourself.

Okay, well, you knew that was gonna happen. You’ve just never actually practiced with the hoop on fire, but it shouldn’t be too hard.. right?

You nodded to yourself, assuring your racing thoughts that everything was gonna be alright.

The skin-tight suit you were wearing sparkled in the spotlight, dazzling the spectators with a red gleam as you hovered right over the edge of the platform, waving to the crowd.

You had been performing ever since you could remember, and this was just another part of the job. You weren’t a part of Mammon’s original crew though, only being given the opportunity when they arrived at Pentagram City.

You were a Sinner, which meant being confined to the Pride Ring just like the rest. Fortunately, one of Mammon’s acrobats was too sickly to perform, so when you saw the large poster detailing auditions, you jumped at the opportunity to make some extra bucks.

You had arrived at the settled convoy of vehicles and trailers at the outskirts of the city, you were ecstatic. You hadn’t performed in an actual circus in forever, and the make-shift village of performers and equipment was a fresh sight.

Mammon himself was a… colorful character. He was a hard party rocker with a big ego, and most likely had a swear jar at home overflowing with pennies, with how that guy talked.

You hadn’t really met him when you auditioned, but you could definitely hear him. He was loud, practically demanding everyone’s attention even when he wasn’t addressing them.

You could hear him yelling about an absent performer, annoyance evident in his voice as he berated an assistant.

"What do ya mean he couldn't make it to practice 'cause he lost his voice? He's a bloody mime, mate! What the hell are we payin’ these blokes for!?"

When you had performed for the recruiters—which you were surprised to find wasn’t Mammon, since the guy seemed to stick his nose in everything—you displayed to them your . A few somersaults, a bit of ariel silk action, and the classic, juggling.

“How good is your balance?” One of them had questioned, their pen tapping softly against the wooden desk, as they considered your skills.

“Good enough, I suppose.” You replied truthfully.

Long story short, you got the gig. Although, when you heard they wanted you to tightrope under a hoop, that was a little surprising.

Good thing you weren’t afraid of heights, or this would have been a nightmare.

Backing away from the edge, your gaze rested on the hoop aflame in front of you. After Mammon would finish speaking, you’d begin your act.

"But that ain't the only thing heating up tonight, folks."

Wait, what did he mean by that?

“‘Cause the tightrope… is also on fire!!!”

What?!

The crowd went berserk hearing that. They whooped and hollered, as their twisted little fantasies came true before their eyes.

“Oh, god damnit, Mammon!” You muttered.

When you told them you had a pretty good pain tolerance, that did not mean resistance to fire!

You sighed, it was a little too late to back out now. Plus, you needed the money. Bouncing on your toes, you attempted to hype yourself up.

Exhaling a large breath, your foot lifted from the stand, and slowly reached out towards the tightrope.

‘Fuck, this is going to hurt.’ you groaned internally, your toe just inches from the wire. You could feel the heat of the fire as it hungrily licked at your feet.

Right as you were about to place yourself onto the wire, you felt something tugging at the back of your collar.

It was deathly cold, and you tried to pull away from its touch, but whatever was holding you had a strong grip. A thick green fog-like substance pooled at your feet, and you looked down in confusion as it began to circle around your figure.

You felt the force on your collar harshly pull you backwards, and your feet lifted from the ground. The smoke became so thick in front of you, it was only the bright lights from the spotlights below that gave you any visual. Suddenly, large eyes began to dot your vision, staring directly at you, into your hollow being.

“What the fu-”

Darkness suddenly covered your vision, and you felt like you were floating in mid-air. Though, you couldn’t tell where exactly in the air you were, other than the fact the surface below you had completely vanished.

You tried to peel your eyes open, but whatever had thrusted you into this chilling realm would not let you get a glimpse of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you felt your feet hit firm ground, and a much less intense light hit your eyelids. You opened them slowly, your mouth still partially open.

“-ckkkk?” You finished, your eyes darting from one side of the mysterious room to the other. It looked strange.. to say the least. It was old, a little run down. It screamed tacky.

You observed the room again, trying to find anything familiar that could gauge your location.

Were you in a hotel lobby? But, why? How? You’ve never been here before, nor did you know anyone who stayed at such a dump.

“Ah, there you are, my friend! What a pleasure to see you!”

You pivoted sharply to face behind you, and your eyes widened in shock at the familiar face.

Standing before you, a large toothy-grin plastered across his face, was Alastor. The owner of your soul, your eternal boss, the Radio Demon, and the butt end of most of your unfunny jokes—which you would never dare say in front of him.

“You!”

Your finger lifted, pointing accusingly at the tall, red demon. He only tilted his head amusingly at you, that smile only growing wider as you frowned.

“Yes, it is I. I’m glad you remember my face, how are you today?”

“What do you want?” You grumbled, ignoring his question. You crossed your arms before taking a step back. There were others behind him, but it was Alastor you were focused on as you waited for his response.

“Oh, just some charity work. My new friends over here are in need of some more helping hands, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services!”

He motioned to the others behind him, and you glanced at the strangers. One of them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair, who smiled awkwardly at you with a wave.

“That’s great!” You replied sarcastically, throwing your hands up in exasperation, “but couldn’t you wait until after my gig? I was about to make some good money!”

Alastor only sidled up to you, before wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his cheek as if you two were best friends. You wanted to recoil from his touch, but you knew you’d get nothing good out of that action.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry about that, my friend. But, we do have an agreement, as I'm sure you are well aware. Which means, for the time being, you’ll be living here at the hotel!”

Of course you were aware of the “agreement”, the guy had your soul!

“What hotel?”

“The Hazbin Hotel! What do you think about the name, hm? I came up with it myself!”

“It’s kind of lame.”

“Oh-ho! You are such a charm, my dear! I can always count on you to liven up the room with your jokes.”

You sighed, uncrossing your arms and lowering them to your sides in defeat. You were stuck here, with Alastor, until he no longer needed your presence. As always.

“I still would have appreciated a call beforehand or something.”

“Take my arrival back in the city as the call, my friend. My return was no doubt discussed by many. You knew I’d acquire your assistance at some point.”

Yes, that’s right. Alastor had been gone a good, what, seven years? It was strange, how he had just disappeared without a word or any kind of clue to his location. Where had he gone? Why was he being so secretive about it?

You didn’t miss him, of course. His absence was a mini vacation for you, a break from endless favors that he deemed you worthy to complete. What a joke.

“Now, why don’t we go and introduce you to all these fantastic fellows, hm?” He spoke, a command deep in his static-laced tone.

You turned back towards the small group of demons, who stood a few feet away silently as the two of you bickered. Standing slightly away from the rest, was a familiar furry face. Husker. He was here too?

Nudging you forward with his cane, you walked up to the onlookers, who regarded you with a mixed expression. The shorter gray lady stood glaring at you with suspicion, her eyes darting between you and Alastor.

Beside her, was that pretty pale-faced demon in the red tuxedo. She smiled broadly at you, her eyes practically gleaming in excitement at seeing the multiple new faces.

“Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! I'm so glad to have you aboard!”

“..Hi, it’s good to meet you too.”

“Let me introduce you to our crew! Over there is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”

She motioned towards the shorter gray woman, and you looked at her more carefully. She had an X across her eye, barely visible with the long hair she situated across half her face. She still eyed you with suspicion, but her demeanor had softened as Charlie spoke to you.

“And, over there is Angel Dust, our first resident of the hotel!”

“How ya doing, Sugar?” Angel winked at you, as he leaned against the bar counter. Husk stood behind the counter, a thin line on his lips.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Husker and Niffty, right?”

You nodded, your gaze meeting Husk’s. His eyes softened just a teeny bit, before he let out a hmph and turned away towards the shelves of bottles against the wall.

Your attention turned back to Charlie, as she began filling you in with the details about the hotel and her plans.

She seemed like a sweet girl, passionate and imaginative. When she described her dreams to you, for the hotel, for the entirety of Hell, you listened carefully.

Sinners.. being redeemed? Going to Heaven? That seemed too good to be true. Unbelievable, almost. Sure, some of the demons down here weren’t too bad, but surely none of them were good enough to actually climb to the pearly gates.

Charlie seemed… different from other dreamers, though, like she could actually get it to work. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made you think so. Maybe it was because she was the princess of Hell, and was the second highest on the food chain of this damned place.

You were lucky with how down-to-earth she was, or your bluntness would have probably gotten you smited by now.

In comparison to Charlie, you were a nobody. Well, you were nobody in general. You didn’t own anything of value, not even your soul.

Charlie didn’t act like a princess though. Such as how she spoke to you, and her friends. No command in her tone, no true motives behind layers of smiles and sweetly spoken lies.

If she was the owner of your soul, maybe life wouldn’t be so bad. She treated everyone fairly, without judgment of who they used to be. Only dreaming of who they could be.

Was the King of Hell the same? How much did Charlie mirror her father, anyway?

“So.. what can you do?” Charlie broke you from your thoughts, she was turned to you, her gaze meeting yours intently as she waited for you to respond.

“Well, I'm a performer! Mostly aerobatics, but I can dance and other tricks. Oh! I’m also a crowd-pleaser, i’m a really smooth talker.”

“That’s ssooooo cool! You do that kind of stuff, like, in the circus?”

“Mostly, yes. Any odd jobs I can find looking for my skill set, really. I’m not picky when it comes to money.”

Charlie contemplated your words for a moment, her eyes darting. She’s already got a bartender and a cleaning lady, but where to put you…

“I’m also fantastic at pick-pocketing.” You grinned pridefully at her. It was something you were very good at, and that you had continued to perfect during your time in Hell.

It was also what led you to make that wretched deal with Alastor.

“Oh.. um, let’s stick with your other skills, hm?” Charlie smiled awkwardly, before she turned her head, and her eyes landed on an empty desk situated near the large entrance doors.

She perked, her eyes widening in glee as she spun around towards you.

“That’s it! You can be our new receptionist! You’ll answer calls and greet all our newcomers, and you’ll be in charge of making sure all our guests are well taken care of during their stay.”

Your smile faltered, your gaze resting on the desk behind Charlie before meeting her eyes once more. You chuckled like she had just told you a good joke. Except when your eyes met hers again, she only smiled at you in anticipation.

Wait, was she serious?

“I’m sorry,” you started, lifting your hands up and shaking your head, “but that is not something i’m good at nor-“

“Well I think it’s a splendid idea!” Alastor appeared besides you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His claws dug slightly into your suit, and you whipped your head up, eyeing him with animosity.

His eyes were squinted, a glare behind that wide grin. ‘Stay in line, or else.’ was his silent command. You scrunched up your nose, ready to argue, but the intellectual part of your brain smacked you upside the head.

Your shoulders drooped, that frown deepening before you turned to Alastor. You pulled your shoulder from his grip, and looked at Charlie.

“Fine.”

And, that’s how it was for a time.

There wasn’t much to do, in all honesty. As the months ticked by, you sat at that desk drowning in boredom. The people at the hotel were lively, but the job? Not so much.

While Alastor was the face, you were the paperwork. Although, he barely acted like it, which meant you took most of the work.

There were barely any phone calls, any new visitors, anything new at all really. So, you instead filled your days with walking around the hotel, observing the rooms of any renovations that Alastor could make, or you’d write shopping lists for groceries and other miniscule items for the crew, and going out yourself to shop.

There was that one demon, the snake inventor, that had become a resident during your time working. You had been there, when he attacked Alastor on the hotel’s doorstep. Your mouth agape as you watched him tear a piece of your boss’s suit, waiting for the snake to meet his death.

He didn’t, surprisingly. Instead, he had arrived not too long after apologizing. Which was shocking, and.. eye opening.

Could Charlie’s dream come true? Alastor spoke of it as if it would turn into nothing but a failure. You had believed him, but now, that doubt was fading from your mind.

Could.. there be a chance for you too?

You had mentally slapped yourself for that thought. You, redeemed? With no soul, you were trapped here. Only ever being able to watch from the sidelines as those more worthy ascended.

Thoughts like that only came when you had drank a little too much. Finger mindlessly circling the rim of your wine glass, brow furrowed as you lamented over your poor decisions, you’d sit at the bar in silence late at night.

Nobody bothered you during those times, not even Alastor. No one saw the way your lip began to quiver, the way your vision blurred with tears.

No one noticed the surface of your drink disturbed with a droplet of salty sadness as it mixed with the bitter alcohol.

‘You don’t deserve to feel sorry for yourself,’ you’d think bitterly, soaked anger spilling down your cheeks, ‘you damned yourself to eternal suffering the moment you shook that demon’s hand.’

Taking the glass, you’d lift it to your lips and empty the rest of the contents. That salty tang still hanging on your tongue when you set the glass back down.

On the worst nights, you’d simply rest your head against the countertop. The cool surface refreshing to your warm cheek, as you curled into yourself, and drifted into a restless sleep.

When you’d wake a few hours later, your blood-shot, tired eyes would open to the sight of a glass of ice-cold water and a migraine pill sitting a few feet away from your face.

You never saw who catered to your hungover needs, but you had an inkling of a guess.

Lifting your head, you’d blink away the morning fog before sitting up straight with a groan. Slowly, you’d reach out and grab the small capsule and the water, before swallowing both in one large gulp.

Then, it was back to work as always.

Sometimes, you’d actually that phone on your desk would brnnnggg loudly, and you’d leap out of your chair to have a conversation with a fresh new voice.

“You guys at least provide free Hash, right?” The masculine voice on the other end questioned.

“Sir, this a hotel meant for redemption. Y’know, to Heaven? We don’t have any paraphernalia here.” You grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration as you listened to the guy.

“Wait.. so you’re saying Heaven doesn’t have joints?”

“I’ve never been up there, obviously. Though I'm sure drugs are a big no-no up there.”

“Then what the fuck is the point of wanting to go up there?! No weed? No sex toys? Fuck Heaven! Fuck you and your stupid little hotel!”

“Choke on dick and die!” You snarled, slamming the phone back into place. You leaned back in the chair, fuming silently. The calls never ended well.

“Good job, you’re really pulling in all those potential residents.” A sarcastic voice piped up near you.

Your head snapped to the bar across the room, your gaze resting on the black and white feline who was busy cleaning glasses on the counter.

Standing from your spot, you stroll over to the bar, before nestling into one of the bar stools. Placing a hand under your chin, you rested your elbow against the shiny countertop.

“Pour an old friend a drink, won’t you Husk?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

His soul was owned by Alastor too, and even if you didn’t know the guy too well, you felt a kinship with him. You both were hollow beings, now.

“We ain’t friends,” the demon grumbled, “I'm just stuck with you and Niffty until I kick the bucket.”

“Okay, Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” You laughed as he reached for your go-to bottle. Same old, adorably-cross Husker.

He was getting better, though. Happier, even. The night he disappeared to go retrieve Angel Dust, he came back with a bounce in his step. Seemingly more at peace, with whatever happened between the two away from prying eyes.

Once, you swore you heard him humming some old, happy tune while he organized the liquor bottles on the shelf. Husk.. singing? That was something you thought you’d never see.

He had a very good poker face, and half the time you couldn’t tell if the kitty even liked you. He always regarded you like he was behind a closed, see-through door. Getting close to you just enough to see and speak to you, but never enough you could actually reach out and use him for support. Hopefully, he was getting better with that too.

Maybe, with how things were going, he’d let you scratch his chin one day. You always wanted to try it, see if he purred just like they did back on Earth.

“What do you think about the hotel?” You asked him, as he popped the cap off the bottle with his claw, and began pouring a glass in front of your seat.

“It ain’t too bad,” Husk replied truthfully, “But, it could be better.”

“I agree, I was having a pretty good time out on my own before this. Guess we’ll just have to get used to it, I’m not sure how long Alastor plans to keep us here.”

“You don’t know?”

You raised an eyebrow at the feline, as you took a sip of your drink. “No, I don’t. Why would you think I do?”

“Well, I just assumed the two of you would discuss those kind things.”

“You think I talk to Alastor about his deceitful plans with this place?”

“Why wouldn’t you? I mean, you two are practically the same, with your silver-tongue and all.”

You leaned back, a mixture of surprise and disgust on your face at his words. Husk thought you and Alastor were like, what, best buddies? The demon that owned your soul?

“That’s a fucking lie,” You growled, glaring at him, “I’m not like that douchebag at all. Just because I’m good at talking my way out of tough shit, doesn’t mean I use them to manipulate people into making magical deals that fuck up their entire existence.”

Using your feet, you pushed your chair back forcefully. It scraped harshly against the wooden floor, as you stood up from the stool. You didn’t even glance at Husk as you sharply turned away, and stomped across the room.

“Thanks for the drink, Asshole.” You called as you turned the corner into a long hallway, towards your room.

You didn’t speak to Husker for a while after that, or go to the bar. Instead, you worked and kept to yourself in your room. It wasn’t until you walked into the lobby one early morning, did you see the feline.

He was standing with the rest of the crew, concern etched across their faces as they circled around a mumbling, erratic Charlie Morningstar.

“Why isn’t the hotel working?!” You could hear her fume, as she fussed over a large tack board filled with drawings and pictures.

It wasn’t until about a half an hour later, when Charlie had hung up the phone with her father, did you realize the day was going to get much stranger.

“Alright, guys! My dad is going to be here in one hour, so we have to make this place perfect!” She said, a nervous smile on her lips as she addressed the small crowd.

Everyone tensed, their eyes darting to each other at her words.

Charlie’s dad was coming? Lucifer Morningstar? The King of Hell?!

Suddenly, the room bursted into action. Sir. Pentious slithered to the kitchen, claiming he needed to bake sweets for Lucifer’s arrival. Charlie was practically hyperventilating as Vaggie rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

“Aw man, I gotta go put on my new perfume!” Angel Dust yelled from the chaos, as he sped away towards his room. Husk continued wiping down the bar countertop, but a little more feverishly now.

Alastor was the only one seemingly unchanged by the news of the king’s arrival. He only stood there grinning, as the others rushed around him, before beginning to push back his cuticles.

“I’m just going to go… put on some better clothes.” You called, unsure if anyone was even listening as they scrambled about.

You quickly left the lobby, running to your room to clean yourself up and look presentable. Your mind raced as you did so, recalling all the rumors and gossip you’ve heard over the years.

Was he a cruel king? He couldn’t be, not with how Charlie turned out. But, with her reaction to asking for his help… that was strange. She had never spoken of him before, so it didn’t seem like they were that close.

What was he going to think of you? You’ve never stood before such an important figure, other than Charlie, but that was wayyy different than speaking to the most powerful man in the realm.

You’d just have to make him like you, to avoid any trouble. You needed to charm the King of Hell, just like you’ve done successfully with so many others.

You adjusted your appearance in the mirror, before nodding your head in self-approval. You crossed your room, pulling open the door, and making your way down the stairs.

When you returned to the lobby, everyone was making last minute preparations.

Sir. Pentious was busy tidying the cookies on the cooking sheet in front of him. Angel Dust was finishing hanging up the balloons around the room, while Charlie was hyping herself up in the corner.

A large banner with a handwritten message ‘It’s A Boy!’ hung from the ceiling, and you shook your head in embarrassment with a smile.

When you had made it back to the group, there was barely any time to talk before you heard a knock at the front door.

Everyone froze, and Charlie exhaled a large breath of nerves, before crossing the distance towards the door. She pulled it open, and a white hat poked from over her shoulder.

“Charlie!”

You heard him before you saw him, and he sounded like a burst of sunshine as you watched Charlie get pulled into his bear hug.

She sputtered against his tight grip, before he finally released her. You could see the wide brim hat poking out of her figure, see that silly apple that stuck out from the top of his cane, as they talked for a few more moments.

It wasn’t until Charlie turned to face you and the rest of the crew, did you see Lucifer Morningstar’s face. Your breath hitched, eyes widening as you drank in his figure.

Fuck. He was gorgeous.

He definitely presented himself like a king, with how he stood with his back straight and head held high. He rested slightly against his cane, his interest piqued at the new faces.

As his gaze swept across the lobby, it briefly landed on you, and your heart fluttered in your chest. God, his eyes were so pretty. They were a soft, muted yellow, like buttercream.

They held many emotions too, you could see it. There was deep sadness that never left his gaze, as if it followed him like a shadow. It was something you felt followed you too. What was his story?

Your eyes traced the rest of his appearance, landing next on the golden strands nestled under his hat.

That platinum-blonde hair practically glowed underneath the chandelier lighting, as it curled delicately around his face. It looked so smooth and silky, like the guy had a 10-step hair care routine. It probably smelled amazing too.

And, those cute little rosy cheek spots on the sides of his mouth, that stood out from his pale skin. If you tilted your head just right, you’d say he looked just like a cockatiel.

But, it was his smile that enraptured you. Not the fake one, that wide, awkward mess across his lips he did as a way to appeal to Charlie.

No, it was instead that warm, genuine grin that lit up his entire face, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. The smile that only appeared during tender moments, like when his daughter rubbed her cheek against his affectionately.

You hoped he would start to smile like that more often.

Charlie had approached your group, introducing Lucifer slowly through your companions. Your heartbeat quickened as they made their way closer to you.

Taking a deep breath, you clasped your hands together, smiling warmingly at the duo approaching. Charlie stopped, turning to her father as she began to introduce you.

“And thisss is our receptionist! They’re in charge of handling most of our inbound and outbound affairs, and in helping us capture potential residents too!”

“And I'm doing a fantastic job at that, by the way.” You declared to the two, that smile of yours widening as you edged closer to them. You lifted your arm, extending a hand towards the fallen angel.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

God, could this dude get any more perfect? The closer he got, the warmer you felt your body temperature become, like he was practically the sun itself.

He regarded it for a moment, before hesitantly taking your grip. His hands were soft, but firm. The gold band on his pinkie grazed across your finger, it was cool to the touch, giving you much needed relief to the growing intensity of the heat of his grasp.

His eyes traveled up yours once more, to your eyes as they flickered between your batting lashes, and to your pretty smile that only grew wider as you leaned forward.

“The pleasure is all mine.” He spoke softly with a grin, as he looked you over. His voice was like silk, and you wanted to wrap it around yourself like a sheet.

A stark difference to Alastor’s, who gave you a headache listening to that static overlay every time the guy opened his mouth.

“This is your first time here, right?”

“Yes, I'm just here to give my daughter the support she needs for her little project.” Lucifer nodded, glancing over to Charlie as he spoke.

“Well, I hope your opinion of the hotel has improved now that you’ve seen it in person.”

“Oh, believe me, it has.” He assured, that nervous grin disappearing from his face, and you could see a playful smirk slowly blooming on his lips.

That was before his eyes landed on the bar at the other end of the room, his hand left yours as he turned to face it. You pulled your arm back, clenching your hand as his warmth faded from your skin.

“What in the unholy Hell is that?”

You stood up straight, as he walked closer to the bar. Only for Alastor to appear right behind him, a deadly grin on his lips as he strutted forward.

“Just some renovations we’ve had done, adds a little bit of color! Don’t you think?”

You sighed, your lips twisting into a slight frown as you watched the tension in the room escalate with every word Lucifer and Alastor exchanged. It wasn't until Charlie sidled up beside her father, that the drama got good.

“I guess that’s why they call it the Has-Been Hotel, eh?” Lucifer grinned, nudging Charlie with his elbow.

You snorted, your hand coming up to cusp your mouth at the sudden outburst. His dad joke was just so hilariously stupid—not to mention, it was pointed at Alastor, which was bonus points—you couldn’t contain the noise you made.

All eyes turned to you, and you felt sweat beading at your forehead from all the sudden attention.

Alastor still had that large toothy grin, but his eyes were squinted in a glare as his head snapped uneasily towards you.

It was Lucifer’s gaze that captured your attention, though. He turned in surprise, as if shocked someone actually laughed at his joke. It wasn’t until he saw that the person that laughed was you, did he seem to slightly puff out his chest, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.

Heat flooded your cheeks as he sent you a mischievous wink, before his attention turned back to Alastor as the demon laughed2.

“Yes, Ha-Ha. It was actually my idea, though.”

“Ha-Ha, well, it’s not very clever!”

“A-Ha! Fuck you.”

You had stood to the side, as the two demons bickered and fought for Charlie’s attention. The insecurities of both became increasingly obvious to you as time went on.

Alastor, with his uneasiness that someone of much higher stature and power could take his role in the hotel. And, Lucifer, who’s relationship with his daughter was sour enough that the idea of someone replacing his role as a father caused him to short circuit.

Then, when a short, rotund woman bursted through the front doors, dressed like a flapper and fawning over Alastor, you realized even more how today was looking to be a really strange day.

Mimzy, an old friend of Alastor’s from when they were both swinging through the 20’s and 30’s back on Earth.

You didn’t know her very well, other than she never stopped talking, and in your opinion, had an ego bigger than Alastor’s. But, you’ve been around long enough to know that whenever she came around, it was only to beg Alastor for help when she fucked up.

Your opinion of her only worsened when the wall a few feet away from you blew open less than ten minutes later.

The chaos that ensued was even worse, as bullets began ripping through the walls of the hotel. Loan Sharks, snarling Mimzy’s name with venom, threw another explosive towards the building.

When Alastor had suddenly arrived, shifting into his demonic form, you breathed a sigh of relief as he began to decimate the little army outside.

One of them was falling right above your head, and you tried to scramble away.

Before it could turn you into a stain on the carpet, it suddenly jerked away, smashing into the closest wall instead. Gold sparks faded from around its wooden frame, and you turned your head to see Lucifer at the other end of the room with Charlie, his eyes trailing your form as you beelined for the opposite wall.

Another explosion rocked the lobby again, and you stumbled on your feet. A table skidded quickly across the floor, heading right for you.

The adrenaline pumping through your veins sent your body into overdrive, and you swiftly lean down, lowering your hands to meet the floor. With a powerful push, you launch yourself into a graceful somersault, your body arching elegantly over the crashing obstacle. Time seems to stretch as you execute the maneuver with precision, feeling the rush of wind against your skin as you spin through the air. Your back barely grazing the table’s surface before you landed into a roll.

You shoot up from the ground, heart racing, a dumbstruck smile blooming across your lips at the realization you were still in one piece.

You were too preoccupied with Sir. Pentious barreling into your side; that you missed the pale face mirroring your expression, as he watched you clear the table.

By the time you untangled yourself from the snake demon, the dust had begun to settle in the room. Alastor had killed—or eaten—most of the Loan Sharks, and was now standing on the front lawn, cleaning bits of meat from underneath his nails.

Husk lifted his head slowly from behind the bar, eyes scanning the perimeter for danger. Mimzy crawled out from under the bar stools, before scurrying outside to speak with Alastor.

“Jesus, is everyone okay?” Angel Dust called, while Charlie was helping dust off stray pieces of rubble from Vaggie’s hair.

“HELPPPP!” Came the loud, mousy squeal from above your head. Eyes lifting to the ceiling, you see Niffty clutching a support beam with her life.

“Niffty? How the fuck did’ya get up there?!” Angel Dust yelled back, arms thrown in the air in exasperation.

It had partially dislodged from the ceiling, hanging loosely by one end. Niffty poked her head out from the side, her large eye darting across the room, as she waited for someone to come to her aid.

Your gaze traveled down from the support beam, your eyes landing on a water pipe, broken and sticking out from a large crack in the wall. It hung just perfectly in between you and Niffty, which would allow you to reach her quickly.

If you could just get a boost… aha! Your gaze lands on the partially torn couch that was scooted a few feet across the room from the explosions. If you leapt off its back, you could swing from the broken water pipe and use it to catapult yourself right next to Niffty.

Lucifer analyzed the ceiling before turning to his daughter, smirking as he slowly lifted his cane.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got thi-“

“Hang on, Niff! I’m coming!” Your voice rang through the room, your footsteps echoing as you ran towards the damaged furniture.

Taking a large leap, your feet hit the backrest of the couch. The muscles in your legs tense as you lower yourself slightly to vault forward and up, your arms shooting above your head as you close in on the pole.

Your fingers wrap around its chilling, metal surface; and with your palms snug against its frame, you swing forward, arching your body so your feet begin to lift above your head.

You release the pole, your legs high in the air as you lift yourself up. You feel the wooden beam graze to the back of your knee pit, and you curl your legs around its base, hanging upside down.

Tensing all the muscles in your abdomen, you use the momentum to swing your legs around the beam and your butt hits the top of its base. You blink, your heart pounding in your chest as you exhale a sigh of relief.

Damn, that felt good. This was so much better than rotting at a desk all day, you really missed your old job.

Niffty shot up next to you, wrapping her little arms around your forearm in glee.

“You came to rescue me, you’re my hero!”

“Yeah, yeah. Just hang on, little lady.”

You pulled her close, before getting to your feet. You lean over the edge, the only thing catching your eyes that you could use was that water pipe.

Okay, you’ve done a bit of parkour before. Piece of cake.

You knelt slightly, before leaping from the beam. You stuck on foot out in front of you, and you felt your sole hit the top of the pipe. It was like taking a large step, as you swung your other leg forward and launched yourself with the other.

Curling your legs, you practically cannonball into the couch. The large, plush cushions swallowed you for a moment, before spitting you back onto your feet in front of it.

“Holy shit, ya didn’t die!” Angel Dust exhaled a sigh of relief, walking up to you. Niffty fussed in your hold, and you gently lowered her to the ground.

Niffty ran to Angel, who kneeled down to fuss over her for any injuries. You turned from the duo, before you caught sight of another figure coming forward.

“You’re an acrobat, aren’t you?” Lucifer said, a hint of astonishment in his tone as he strolled up to you, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“Yes, well, mostly. But I can do a lot of other things too.” You nodded, smiling bashfully at his facial expression.

“Wow! I mean, heh—boy, I haven’t seen anyone do that perfect of a maneuver in a long time. You looked like a ballerina up there with how strict your form was when you were swinging.”

Did Lucifer just.. compliment you? He knew about aerobics enough to make that kind of judgment on you? Man, this guy just kept getting better and better.

It should have been obvious, though. His silly red-and-white attire had struck you as familiar when you first saw him, and now you realized it was similar to the getup of a Ringmaster.

“Thank you, I've been practicing since I was young. I’ve even done a few circus acts before, and it’s always such a thrill. I'd do it over and over again without getting tired.”

“I think that’s called being an adrenaline junkie.” Lucifer teased, a playful smile on his lips. “But, really, that was good. Impressive, even.”

“Not as impressive as saving me from getting crushed by the ceiling.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened just a tad, and he nervously adjusted his long collar, his smile turning bashful now.

“Oh, you.. you saw that?”

You nodded, “Yes, I did. Thank you. Also, your magic is just so pretty, they’re like little golden fireworks!”

Before Lucifer could speak, you leaned in closer to him. Your ear just barely grazing the brim of his hat as you smiled.

“And, I just wanted to let you know, I agree with you about the hotel name,” you inched closer to his face, your voice lowering as you spoke with a honeyed tone, “I have no doubt you would come up with a better name, Your Highness.”

Lucifer tensed, and you thought you could see those red spots on his cheek darkening just a shade.

He lowered his head slightly after that, his face mostly obscured by the brim of his hat. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but, was that an edge of a smile on his lips?

After a second, Lucifer cleared his throat, before lifting his head again.

“I’m glad we share the same appreciation for aesthetics. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.”

“Hey, Dad? Can I, um, speak to you? About the hotel?” Charlie spoke, approaching. A firm look on her face, as if it was rather important.

“Of course, I’ll be right there,” Lucifer nodded, before turning back to you, “Again, a pleasure to meet you. I hope we get to talk again.”

Then, he did something you never expected, he curtsied. Your eyes widened, the King, showing you such a gesture of respect? All for what, doing a few tricks in the air?

Heat creeped onto your cheeks after that, and you watched him turn away, following after his daughter. Leaving you to stew about your encounter with Lucifer for the rest of the day.

Well, your thoughts on the King of Hell definitely stayed when you awoke the next morning, and the morning after that.

Your thoughts were still there in that lobby as you sat at your desk one afternoon, your hands organizing a large stack of papers. They had a picture of the Hazbin Hotel on them, along with words that basically screamed ‘Come check us out!’

The plan was to distribute the posters around the city. Buildings, poles, doorways, anything that could hold a staple was your target.

You were fiddling around in your drawer, searching for extra staples when you heard it. A gentle rapping against the front doors, which made you lift your head.

There was no one else in the lobby, not even Husk. Slowly, you walked towards the doors, and the silhouette of a hat stuck out from the bottom of the stained glass.

Is that..?

Reaching to the handle, you pull it open, and met the familiar soft, yellow gaze. His lips curved into a smile at your appearance, and he lifted his hand in greeting.

“Oh! Hello, again!”

Fuck, he was still gorgeous. Definitely an Angel, no doubt about that. His pearlescent skin practically glittered in the red hues of the afternoon light behind him, and you averted your gaze for a moment, trying not to be blinded by his ethereal beauty.

“Your highness? I’m—ahem, well, sorry. I’m just surprised to see you back so soon. What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to see Charlie, of course!” He exclaimed, strolling right past you into the lobby. His eyes scanned the room, resting for a moment disapprovingly on the bar, before landing on the large desk.

“Is this where you work?” He motioned towards its wooden frame, you sidled up to him, before nodding.

“Yep. Hardly move from there during the day.”

“You sit there all day? Yeesh, that’s terrible.”

“Mhm. Pretty boring, actually.”

“Well, if you ever want a better career, I’m sure I could find you a job at LuLu World, I’ve got a circus that runs year round there.”

LuLu World? The theme park he owned? You had never been there before, but it always sounded amazing. And, he thought you’d be a great fit there too. He couldn’t have been that impressed by a few of your maneuvers. Maybe, he just needed to go to an actual circus and see the real performers.

“I’d love to, but I'm kind of stuck here.”

“Why?” Lucifer turned to you, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, um—”

‘My soul is owned by the demon you have beef with, and I can’t exactly leave without his permission. I also can’t tell you this because I apparently signed an NDA too.’

“—I just want to help people! So, I made a promise that I wouldn’t leave until I made a difference. Y’know, really make an effort to improve this wonderful community!” You responded with fake cheer, clasping your hands together.

Lucifer regarded you for a moment, his fingers fidgeting against the apple on his cane as he thought.

“Oh.. well, that’s generous of you. But, someone with your skill set doesn’t deserve to rot away in a place like this, I’m sure you’d make a difference somewhere more relevant.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Your Highness?” You teased, your nails grazing against the desk as you walked past him, before pivoting to face him.

“What? No! Of course not, just—forget I said anything.” He chuckled nervously, before fussing with his long collar. He seemed to do that often when

Aw, he got all flustered when he thought you were serious. Who knew the embodiment of Pride had such bad self esteem.

“Charlie went out to run some errands, but she should be on her way back, actually. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

“Chamomile Tea, if you have it?”

You nodded, before walking towards the small counter behind your desk. There was a coffee machine, a toaster, and a large, electric kettle. You placed the kettle underneath the small sink, filling it up, before switching it on and setting it down.

It would take a little time for the water to heat, so you returned to where your visitor awaited.

Lucifer leaned against your desk slightly, his fingers mindlessly tapping at his cane, his eyes staring at the wall. There he goes again, lost in his thoughts. Which he seemed to do quite often.

Would it be rude to wake him from his stupor? You had only just met him, so maybe, don’t push your luck.

You turned your attention back onto the stack of posters, flicking through each one as you counted. You heard Lucifer shuffle beside you, before clearing his throat.

“What are you doing?”

“Posters for the hotel. I’m going to put them up around the city later today.” You held one out to him, and he took it from your grasp. His fingers grazed yours, and you could feel the warmth seeping into your skin from just that small touch.

When he pulled his hand away, that warmth left you, and you felt that never-ending chill seep back into your bones again. It was something that followed you since you made that deal with Alastor. As if your soul was the sun, and you just got shoved down a long, dark well.

You could only claw at the edges for so long, letting the blood from your nails drip into the standing water at your feet, before you gave up trying. You’ve been sitting in that well for a long time, allowing time to pass by.

But, for some reason, since you arrived at the hotel, you’ve begun to start digging at the cracks of that well again. Maybe, if you got your claws in deep enough, you’d find that beam of sunlight.

“Hm, the drawings seems.. a little off. Did you do this?” Lucifer dragged you out of your thoughts, as he looked at you expectantly.

Shaking your head, you chuckled softly. “No, unfortunately, stick figures are my only language in the arts. I think Charlie drew it.”

“Did I say this drawing was off? I lied! Ha-ha, yeah, this is great work.” Lucifer quickly replied, brushing off his earlier comment.

You were going to open your mouth to respond, before you heard the loud whistling of the kettle. You turned, watching the steam pour out of its lid, and quickly ran to fetch it.

You pulled a small tea cup from its stand on the edge of the counter, before filling it full with the water from the kettle.

Reaching towards a small cupboard, your fingers sorted through the different herbal flavors as you looked for one in particular. When your eyes finally caught the light green packaging, you pulled it out.

“Hey, this might seem like an odd question, but do you like caramel?” Lucifer asked from behind you. You turned your head slightly, taking a glance at him. His nails clicked against his cane, fast and nervous as he waited.

“Yes, I do. It’s not my favorite sweet treat, but I've definitely indulged in it a few times.”

Taking a few moments as you spoke, you ripped open the package. Holding the small string in between your thumb and your index finger, you carefully placed the tea bag into the steaming water.

“Great! I was wondering, well, I mean—you see, I made some caramel apples for Charlie. Except, she hasn’t had one of mine since she was a girl, so I just wanted someone to take a test bite before I presented it to heel

Slowly, you could see the color begin to change as the herbal goodness was dispersed in the cup. You turned to him slowly, eyebrows raised as you regarded him.

“You want me to.. try one of your apples?”

“Yes! That would be great, just to know I still got the gourmet chef in me.” He smiled, lifting up a finger right above his lips, and swirling it in the air. As if twirling a long mustache.

“Your tea, Your Majesty.” You chuckled, bending your head slightly, placing it down on the desk in front of him. When you lifted your head, you were greeted with the sight of a large, light-brown coated apple.

“It’s not poisoned I promise.” He teased, a lopsided grin on his face as he held the treat out to you, his fingers clasped around the kabob-like stick poking out of the bottom.

Carefully, you lifted your arm, plucking the caramel apple away from his grip. When you had it between your fingers, Lucifer reached down to take the tea cup from the desk, before swirling the mix around slightly. He blew at its surface, and the liquid rippled as steam still rose from it.

He gingerly lifted it to his lips, his pinky lifting away from the handle as he did so. His eyes softened as the herbal flavoring hit his tongue, and his body seemed to relax as warmth bloomed under his skin and the drink traveled down his throat.

‘He drinks with his pinky out? That’s so cute.’ You gushed silently, never did you think the King of Hell would practice such mannerisms. But, in all honesty, he didn’t seem like he should be in Hell at all. Guess that’s what happens, when the highest powers known to man punish you for being you.

His eyes never left you as he drank, as he waited for you to take a bite. You turned the treat in your grip, inspecting it a final time. Carefully, you lifted it to your face, and took a bite of its side.

Lucifer seemed to grimace as your mouth closed against the large chunk of apple. You chewed for a moment, letting your taste buds do the work. Then, your brain short-circuited at the sensations, and your eyes lit up.

“Woa-hu-ho! This is fantastic!” You beamed, and Lucifer’s eyes widened in a look of surprise.

“Really..?”

“Yes! It’s actually really good! I think Charlie is going to love it!” You nodded briskly, taking another bite of delicacy.

“Ha, well. Guess I still got it in me after all this time.” He boasted, chest puffing just slightly at your compliments.

You obliterated that apple in front of him, taking barely a moment to breathe as you scarfed it down. God, his cooking was actually really good. What else could he make?

Lucifer only watched you, a faint smile on his lips as he watched you devour the treat. As if he was fascinated by your sudden primal hunger.

Your eyes met his and you stopped suddenly, covering your mouth as you continued to chew. Heat flooding your cheeks in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, this is pretty rude of me..”

“No! Not at all, if I had more I'd surely give it to you,” he laughed, setting his almost-empty drink back onto the desk, “and please, call me Lucifer. There’s no need to use such titles in a private setting like this.”

Right as he spoke, the front entrance doors burst open, and Charlie and Vaggie strolled in chattering loudly. They held a few shopping bags in their hands, as they entered the lobby.

Right, so much for privacy. Couldn’t you get five more minutes with the #1 bachelor in the realm?

“Oh, Dad!” Charlie exclaimed, surprise etched on her face at seeing Lucifer standing beside you.

“Charlie!” He beamed, strolling over to her. He encompassed her into another of his signature bear hugs, and she sputtered for breath in his hold.

“Wha—gasp—what are you doing here?”

“I just came by to visit, also to take another peek at some renovations that really need to be done. Among other things.”

“Oh, okay! Let me drop this stuff off by Angel Dust, and we can do that.” Charlie smiled at her father, before turning and crossing the room to another hallway.

Lucifer watched her leave, before turning to you, his eyebrows raised as he spoke, “I assume you’ll still be sitting here the next time I stop by?”

He wanted to see you again? Your brain couldn’t process that thought when the words left his lips.

“As always.” You smiled warmly at him, as you cleaned up the now-empty cup from the desk. You didn’t say ‘Your Majesty’ this time, but you weren’t sure whether calling your king by his real name was appropriate. At least, not yet.

“Good.” He nodded approvingly, before his back faced you and he walked out of the lobby. Your gaze lingered on the corner he had turned out of view from, before you sighed and returned to work.

You didn’t notice those sickly red eyes watching you intensely from the shaded corner of the room, as you took a seat back at your desk.

Days like that continued, where you’d be greeted by the soft knocking against the entrance door. And, when you opened it, you’d meet the handsome, smiling face of Lucifer.

“Good morning, I hope you’re hungry!” He’d state as he strolled past you, always stopping right next to your desk first when he came.

You made sure to save your stomach for the delicacy he always carried with him now. Usually, he’d bring two, one for Charlie, and one for you.

“I need to make sure she’ll like this one too.” He had explained. You were apparently his official taste tester now, but you never complained.

He’d hold the treat out to you, one eyebrow raised playfully, as he presented the caramel apple like a rose.

“Now with sprinkles!” He’d exclaim as you’d gingerly take it from his grip, your fingers brushing against his. The warmth a welcome feeling to your skin.

You’d sit there, feasting on the apple in your seat as he leaned against the desk. He was very chatty, even when he still held reservations around people in general. It never bothered you, of course. It stopped you from getting so bored while you worked.

“Don’t even get me started on Mammon,” Lucifer groaned, as you told him about your most recent circus acts, “the guy will do anything to put more money in his pocket. Y’know, he thinks we’re best buddies or something, thinks that lets him plagiarize my amusement park.”

“Why don’t you tell him to shut it down?”

“Because it brings in more business,” Lucifer had shrugged, “People go there, expecting a good show, and don’t find one. So, they go to my LuLu World, and bam, they never want to leave!”

You chuckled at the name, ‘LuLu’. Yep, you were definitely speaking to the Sin of Pride, alright.

“What’s so funny?” He had asked, curious at your reaction. You straightened yourself, a lop-sided smile on your lips when you realized he caught your laugh.

“Nothing it’s just.. ‘LuLu World’? There had to be something better you could have called it.”

Lucifer gasped, placing a hand on his heart, feigning hurt. “Woah, woah. First, you say I'm good with names, and now you’re laughing at them? Dirty.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry. Please, good sir, don’t smite me!” You mocked a pain expression, clasping your hands together in a gesture of begging.

“I will allow you to live for now. Can’t have the hotel going into shambles because you’re not here to keep it running.” Lucifer’s voice deepened as he fixed his posture into a much more royal stance. As if he was speaking to a lowly squire in court.

‘I barely do anything around here, but thanks for the confidence boost.’ you’d answer silently, as you leaned back in your chair, watching his antics with amusement.

You began to anticipate his arrival with excitement. Even pouring his tea beforehand, so when he walked through those doors, you’d place a steaming cup into his palms. You always enjoyed the way his eyes softened when he took his first sip.

Hell, you enjoyed.. everything about him. His smile, his jokes, the care he had for his daughter, even if he had a hard time showing it. He made you smile, which was something you haven’t done willingly in a long time.

And, his smile? That real, true look of happiness that blossomed on his face? That slowly began to return as well.

For a few months, everything was dandy. Until, one evening, when Alastor summoned you to his room.

He never did that, and that made you nervous.

You stood at the closed door to his room, your heart pounding in your chest. What did he want? Did you do something wrong? Your thoughts just couldn’t still as you fidgeted nervously.

Slowly, you lifted your knuckles to the door. Before you could even graze the wooden surface, the door swung open. It creaked loudly as it did so, and your breath hitched as you began to glimpse inside.

You poked your head in, your eyes scanning across the room. The decorations were so outdated, it almost made you gag. Skeletons of an alligator hung on the wall, its eyes glowing from the string of lights wrapped around its figure.

A large shelf of books, mostly for cooking, stood out against a small wooden table. A small radio sat snug on the desk, playing a gentle jazz tune. On the opposite side of the room, was where that freaky abyss lay. You had never stepped foot there, the part of the room that simply seemed to dissolve into a dark, swampy land.

Then, you heard humming. Staticy, soft humming, coming from the left side of the room.

Alastor stood over a bloody cutting board, a large kitchen knife in his hand. He wore an apron that was spattered with blood, his usual overcoat was gone, replaced by a dark red tuxedo underneath and a—surprisingly—clean white dress shirt.

He hummed along in sync with the music wafting from the speaker, as he continued to slice along the large slab of meat on the counter. You couldn’t dare think what the flesh used to be as you slipped through the crack, shutting the door softly behind you.

It didn’t seem like he knew you were standing there awkwardly by the door, but you knew he did. How long was he going to have you wait?

Clearing your throat, you spoke softly, “you wanted to see me, Alastor?”

“Ah, hello there, my friend!” He pivoted sharply, his tone chipper as he smiled at you. The knife was still in his grip, and he swirled it in the air playfully. “How are you doing on this fine, hellish evening?”

“Fine..”

“Wonderful! I called you here today because there is something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for some time. You see, I've taken notice that you and our ever-so charming King of Hell have been growing closer these past few months.”

This is what he wanted to talk about? You fought to not roll your eyes at that.

“Let me guess, you want me to stop talking to him?”

Alastor giggled at that, a maniacal fit of he-he’s as he forcefully stabbed the knife into the slab of flesh. It stuck out like a grim warning, as he brushed his hands against his apron before removing it entirely.

“On the contrary,” he spoke as he hung the apron against a dining chair, “I want you to get closer to him.”

You blinked, leaning your head back slightly as you processed his words.

“Wait, what?”

Alastor nodded, confirming that you didn’t just hallucinate that. He slowly walked forward, before placing a hand on your shoulder as he moved behind you.

“You see, I believe it’s in both our best interests to forge a deeper connection with our illustrious King. There are certain… opportunities that may arise from such a relationship.”

“Opportunities? What kind of opportunities are we talking about here?”

“Ah, now that would be telling, wouldn’t it? Let’s just say that there are benefits to being in the King’s inner circle. Power, influence, the chance to shape Hell itself… But I’ve said too much already. Just trust me on this one, my dear.”

Trust Alastor? Ha! That was the first joke he’s ever spoken to you that was actually funny.

Your thoughts raced as he appeared on your other side, his claw grazing across the back of your neck as he rested his hand on your shoulder once more.

He wanted you to what, fake your attraction to Lucifer? Wanted you to lie and manipulate him so he’d bend to your will, and carry out Alastor’s evil deeds in the guise of caring for you?

“What makes you think he’d even fall for that? He’s an angel, he’s not stupid.”

Alastor chuckled, patting your shoulder as his grin widened. “Haven’t you noticed the change in his demeanor? The little.. pep in his step? Ever since he met you that first day, he’s only grown more attached to you.”

Was that true? Sure, Lucifer seemed to be getting better, slowly. Seemed to smile more genuine as time went on. But, that couldn’t be because of you! He was reconnecting with his daughter, of course he’d be happier at the hotel.

It didn't matter, in the end. You weren’t going to do that to Lucifer. You weren’t going to ruin the one relationship that was built by trust. The question is, could you resist Alastor?

“What if I don’t want to?” You finally ground out, your firsts clenching at your sides.

Suddenly, you felt a chill around your neck, and you gasped at the sensation. You lifted one hand up, to try and feel whatever was clenching at your throat.

Your fingers wrapped around a green, metal collar that seemed to tighten as the seconds ticked by. Energy sizzled against your fingertips, like static. Eyes widening, you ripped your hand away, your feet moving on instinct to get away from him.

Your back hit the wall roughly, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you watched Alastor slowly stalk towards you. His eyes began to shift, resembling that of radio dials. Those small antlers on his head began to rapidly branch out, growing longer every step he took.

“What if you don’t want to? My, what a foolish question.”

He was just inches from your face, that toothy smile practically ear to ear as he leaned in. Lifting a hand, his claws grazed your collar bone, before traveling up towards the glowing green clasp.

A single claw hooked underneath the metal surface, pushing roughly against your throat as he tugged you harshly forward by it.

His breath hit your face, and you scrunch your nose from the foul odor. He reeked of death.

“It seems you have forgotten who owns your soul, my dear.” He whispered in your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut, your lip quivering as he spoke.

“If you try to resist, try to fight against your chains. I’ll make sure my radio broadcast is filled with nothing but your dying screams.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, the collar only becoming colder as you writhed slightly against his touch.

“I-I’m sorr-“

“You sold your soul to me, don’t forget. If there is anyone to blame for your misfortune, it is you alone.” Alastor hissed, thrusting you even closer to him by your collar. You felt his smile crease brush against your skin, and you shivered.

You were becoming increasingly aware how sickly-yellow his teeth were, compared to Lucifer’s. Disgust began to boil in your belly as you opened your mouth.

“I’ll do it!” You whimpered, your heart pounding, “I’ll do it..”

“Wonderful.” He drawled, before leaning away from you. His claw released your collar, and it dissolved in green fog. You coughed, rubbing your neck, as Alastor took your shoulder and roughly nudged you to the door.

It opened on its own, and you were pushed through the threshold.

“I’m glad we could have this little chat,” Alastor’s chipper tone returned, as you stared at him with disgust, “Have a hellish rest of your day, my friend!”

The door slammed shut as he disappeared back into his room. Leaving a rush of angry tears to pool at your feet alone.

Two weeks had passed, since Alastor told you to tug the heartstrings of the King of Hell, to play him right into your fraud-loving palms. Oh, the universe must surely hate you.

You had begun to avoid Lucifer, though. Whenever he was around, catching you at work, you’d continue your silly little chats. You began to memorize the timeframe he’d show up to the hotel, and make some kind of excuse to not be there when he knocked. Either you were out shopping for supplies, or seeing the latest movie. Anything you could think of, you’d leave and force Husker to greet Lucifer.

The guilt of knowing what would happen if Lucifer fell in love with you? It ate you up inside. You hardly slept lately, tossing and turning with terrible nightmares of drowning in that cold, dark, bottomless well. The chains tied to your feet, preventing your escape to the surface.

Would anyone care if you just let yourself sink to the bottom?

Those thoughts were still on your mind as you did your morning jumping jacks.

You had asked Charlie to use one of her empty storage rooms as a place to practice your acrobatics, which you had started doing every night now. It was any easy escape from your troubles, on the farthest side of the hotel from the lobby, where no one could bother you.

It was a large room, with ceiling-high windows that lit the room with a light red hue. You had convinced Alastor to give you a makeshift gym as a part of your “deal”. If you were going to be forced to be the bad guy, he could at least give you a place to kick ass.

There were multiple gymnastic bars set up at different heights, two balance beams, and a small-scale tightrope. The tightrope was a thick wire connected between two poles across one side of the room, roughly the size of your torso. There was a platform attached to each pole, allowing good foot room on each side of the wire.

Tonight, you were practicing walking on your hands across the balance beam. Sweat dripped from your forehead, and you watched it land onto the leathery cover of the beam beneath you.

You had made it halfway across, when you heard the door to the room open softly.

“I didn’t even know there were rooms back here!” An astonished, familiar voice came from the doorway.

What was Lucifer doing here?!

Your brain short-circuited, and your arms began to wobble beneath you. You lost your balance, and immediately tumbled off the balance beam with a breathless “Fuck!”

Your side hit the mats below, pain bloomed from your shoulder as you lay there in defeat. You heard a high pitched yelp from behind you, and the sounds of feet pattering against the floor neared.

“You’re not dead, are you?” Lucifer laughed nervously as he kneeled beside you. He reached a hand down to your face, before he hesitated, and instead lifted his cane.

You felt soft poking against your cheek, as he prodded you with the black stick.

“Stop that.” You grumbled into the mat, stirring slightly from the floor.

“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief.” He said, exhaling a breath he had been holding. “I’m terribly sorry about that! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You groaned, before lifting yourself up from the mat. You got to your feet, rubbing your shoulder tenderly.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. What are you doing here, though?”

Lucifer processed your question for a moment, before he suddenly straightened himself up. Head held high, he strutted over to you, before halting. He glanced at you, before he began fussing with his bow-tie nonchalantly.

“Well, I came to find you.”

“Why?”

“Because, I wanted to speak with you. And, you’re conveniently always out of the room when I want to do that.”

Shit. Did he notice you were avoiding him? You didn’t think it was that obvious.

Lucifer watched you intensely, analyzing your reaction to his accusatory statement. He had a firm line on his lips, as if your actions didn’t bother him.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Oh, really?”

“I came here to improve my aerobatics, before you rudely interrupted me.”

“Right, like you need to improve.”

You turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re already good at it, there’s no reason for you to come here every day.”

He turned his head to face you as he spoke, and your eyes caught sight of something wiggling slightly on the top of his head. Is that apple decoration not fully attached to his hat?

Suddenly, you had an idea. A playful smile began to bloom on your lips, as you slowly made your way towards him.

“Actually, that’s not true. I’m not that good at tightrope walking, I’ve told you that before.”

Right before he turned his head so he could trace your movements, you shot your arm above his hat, your fingers pinching around the small apple stem.

You sharply pivoted, facing him now as you walked backwards towards the tightrope platform. The apple hung behind your back, as you kept his gaze.

“Buuut, I think I’m much better at it than you.”

“Excuse me?”

You turned to face the platform, moving your arm fluidly and taking the stem between your teeth, before lifting yourself on the white surface.

Gripping the apple once more, you turn to him slowly, watching his eyes widen as you swing the apple between your fingers for his viewing pleasure.

“Actually, I think I'm better at this whole circus bizz than you. Look! I’m a magician even, would you like to see another trick, Your Majesty?”

Lucifer stood there in shock, for a few moments. His red pupils darted from the swiped apple to you, before they dilated slightly. Then, he laughed, an audible ‘Ha ha!’ at your words.

“You think you’re better at the circus than me?” Lucifer asked slowly, a mixture of disbelief and teasing in his tone.

“Without a doubt!” You called, turning to face the wire. Not giving him a second glance, a smug smile formed on your lips.

Lucifer regarded you a moment, before a mischievous grin played on his face. “Well, let’s prove it then.”

He lifted his cane, before tapping it against the ground twice. Suddenly, you found the platform vibrating underneath your feet. Then, it began to move. You stumbled, and then fell to your knees, gripping the edges as you squeezed your eyes shut.

What the hell was happening?!

The support pole began to rise up, and up, and up, until it barely grazed against the ceiling. Slowly, you opened one eyelid, and then the other. You were still safe, clutching to the platform. The tightrope was still holding, connected to the pole across the room.

You exhaled a side of relief, before crawling over to the edge. Your eyebrows flew up in surprise as you judged the distance to the ground, you were roughly three stories in the air!

Did.. Lucifer do that? He took “prove it” to a whole new level with this one.

You got back onto your feet, the apple still in your palm as you placed your other hand against the support beam. Now, where was Lucifer? Did he stick you up here to starve to death?

“Hey.”

You jumped, reeling back from the voice, right towards the edge of the platform.

“Woah—hang on there now!” Lucifer quickly reached out and wrapped his fingers around your wrists, tugging you back to the center of the stand. You blinked, slowing your heart beat, as you stared in surprise.

“Lucifer? How did you get up here?”

“I can fly, remember?”

That’s right, he did have wings. You just didn’t think he was that fast with them. Lucifer had also completely ditched his hat and overcoat, instead he was in his red and white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to partially expose his forearms.

His hair was slightly disheveled, no doubt from the flight up here. It wasn’t as slicked back as before, small strands of hair sticking out messily. You thought that was adorable.

Lucifer looked down, before smiling sheepishly and withdrawing his hand from your wrist. He brushed his fingers down your hand, his nails gently grazing against your palms.

This time, you didn’t feel the cool sensation from his gold ring against your skin, as his pinky lifted from your hand.

“Now, are you going to walk across that wire, or are you going to just give me back my apple?”

You met his eyes, his gaze playful as he smirked at you. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. Slowly, your heel hit the wire, and you halted.

Lucifer watched you expectantly, waiting for you to make a move. He probably assumed you’d turn around to cross the wire, and he’d nab the apple from behind your back.

Too bad for the King of Hell, you could walk on a tightrope backwards. You winked at him, as your feet moved fully onto the wire. You pivoted slightly every so often, your body fluidly leaning back and forth as you adjusted for balance.

Lucifer watched you, admiration in his eyes as you maneuvered your way down the tightrope. You pulled the apple from behind you, teasing it in front of his view.

“The big question is, how do you think you’re going to best me in those heels, Your Majesty?”

Lucifer glanced down at his knee-high boots, before slowly peeling them off his feet. He placed them neatly to the side, before moving a foot to the wire.

He began to put his weight onto the tightrope, wobbling a little as he adjusted for balance. He definitely did not do this often, and you laughed softly at his failing posture.

Lucifer huffed, glancing at you, who was still moving a reasonable distance away from him. Then, a smirk played on his lips, and you saw forms begin to appear against his back.

The red feathers of his wing’s underbelly began to glimmer in the light from the large windows behind you, as he slowly opened them to full length.

Six ethereal, majestic wings flapped gracefully behind him. They began to pivot slightly, adjusting for Lucifer’s balance much quicker and with ease.

“That is so dirty!” You laughed at him, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“Looks like I'm going to getcha!” He teased, as he began to take much more confident steps across the wire; his wings flapping softly, boosting his speed.

You took bigger, riskier steps as you closed in on the other platform. Your heartbeat racing from the challenge, adrenaline beginning to pump in your veins.

“What happens if I eat this apple?” You asked, holding up the apple to your nose, before taking a deep sniff. Licking your lips playfully, you glanced back up to Lucifer.

“A tummy ache, I'm afraid. But, hey, I'll trade you a caramel apple for that one.”

Your stomach grumbled at that, and you genuinely licked your lips at his words.

“I might consider that proposition, if you can catch up to me that is.”

You spun on your heel, facing the base of the pole, as you began to increase your pace.

It wasn’t until you felt the wire jerk under your feet, did you begin to wobble. With a hitched breath, you try to regain your balance, but to no avail.

Your foot slips, and you feel your body beginning to lean off too far to the side. Gasping in surprise, you flail your arms hoping to catch anything in your grip to stop your fall.

Right as you begin to free fall, you feel strong arms snake around yours and grip you firmly.

“Hang on, I got you!” Lucifer practically spoke in your ear as he pulled you forward, back up onto the wire. You breathe heavily, clutching his forearms tightly as you lean in closer, catching your breath.

Large wings flapping stronger now, Lucifer held you close as you both balanced along the same small portion of the tightrope. You felt his hot breath on your face, and realized how close the two of you actually were.

Your chest was practically against his cute little bow-tie, your legs brushing against each other as you balanced on the tiny surface. The steady wing beats of the fallen angel sent wind softly grazing past your ears, cooling the heat that was beginning to creep onto your cheeks.

He was so close, and so fucking gorgeous. Forget what Alastor wanted to do, what you wanted to do was kiss this man silly. For months, you both danced at the edge of each other's hearts. Gifts of affection, words of compassion, the whole shebang.

Yet, you’ve never looked the King in the eye and told him ‘I want you.’

Was it because you were stubbornly fighting against Alastor’s demands, that you even ignored your own true feelings? Just to spite the powerful cannibal?

Couldn’t you just look at a sexy man in peace, without anyone else watching your every move?

“Are you alright?” Lucifer asked after a moment, pulling you from your ogling.

“You saved me..” You finally breathed, eyes wide and you met his soft gaze.

“Of course I did, why wouldn’t I—”

Lucifer’s words caught in his mouth as you pressed your lips to his. He froze at the touch initially, but it only took a moment for his entire body to soften against yours.

His hands found his way to your waist, and he pulled you flush against his body. Your fingers reached up, and you began to caress the sides of his face, twirling a few pieces of hair between your pinkies as you deepened the kiss.

The warmth that bloomed from his touch was intoxicating, your entire being craving for more as you leaned even farther into his embrace.

His hands moved from your waist, until they brushed underneath your shirt. His palms coming up to cup the small of your back as he pressed you closer to him, as if worried you might dissipate into the air and leave him forever.

It was a good thing he had six wings to keep the two of you afloat, or else you would have been a splatter on the mats by now.

You felt Lucifer's teeth graze against your lip, and you had to fight to not bite his lip back. After a few more moments, you pulled away from his face, your breath coming out ragged as you gave him some distance.

Lucifer blinked a few times, his eyebrows beginning to raise slowly as a dopey smile danced onto his lips.

“I really enjoyed that, but we should probably get on solid ground, don't you think?” He laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked at you adoringly.

You reached up, brushing the few loose strands out of his eyes, before nodding. “That is a good idea.”

“Well, just hang on.” Lucifer replied with a mischievous grin, and you opened your mouth to question him. Before you could get a word out, you felt him begin to lean backwards, pulling you along with him.

You yelped and squeezed your eyes shut, as you began to free fall on top of him. Lucifer only hugged you closer, before his wings shot open, slowing your descent.

Carefully, you peeled your eyelids open to the two of you gliding softly down, as Lucifer circled the pole lazily. Your feet swung in the air, and the wind rushed past your ears. The adrenaline rush causing you to laugh in glee as you felt your feet hit a hard surface.

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, the weight of what just transpired finally settling on top of you.

Holy shit, you just kissed the King of Hell! From trying to stay as far away from him, to getting as close as physically possible. What a twist.

“Well, now that we’re down here,” Lucifer began slowly, his gaze meeting yours with a playful roll of his eyebrows, “we could continue our previous.. discussion.”

You almost obliged, until you heard the familiar call of Charlie, as she searched for her father. You tensed in his grip, before pulling away from his hold. A pout formed on Lucifer’s lips at the absence of your touch, before he straightened himself.

Snapping his fingers, that familiar white overcoat magically materialized onto his figure, along with his wide brim hat. Your eyes landed onto that spot where the missing apple usually was, and then you noticed how empty both your hands were.

“Your apple! I think I dropped it when I almost fell.” You explain apologetically.

“Oh, you mean this apple?”

Lucifer pulled the red, gleaming trophy from beneath his overcoat. He threw it in the air a few times, catching it gracefully. A silent boast as he grinned at you. Your mouth only hung agape, as you scanned the apple for any imperfections.

“There is no way you took that from me! How do I know you didn’t just make that?”

“Woah! Sounds like someone is a sore loser.” Lucifer laughed, before turning towards the door, he kept his gaze on yours as he did so, walking backwards as he talked.

Slowly, you kept pace with him, shaking your head in disbelief at his words. He was just as preoccupied as you, sucking on your face, you couldn’t believe he actually took it from you in the chaos.

“At least we settled the little debate, hm? Seems like i’m better at these kinds of things than you. Just like I said.”

“We’ll definitely come back and test that theory with your wings bound this time.”

“Oh, will we? Is that a challenge?”

Lucifer halted at the doorway, and you stopped a few footsteps away. You batted your eyelashes at him, grinning playfully, “it’s a promise, actually.”

He grinned at that, before he leaned in closer, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“So, you haven’t been avoiding me, then?”

‘Not this again.’ You groaned internally.

“No, I haven’t. I’m sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind lately.” You quickly spoke, an apologetic look on your face. Would he buy your lie?

“And you’ll tell me when something is wrong, right?”

You cracked him an assuring smile, “of course!” You lied through pearly-white teeth.

Lucifer nodded approvingly at that, before he glanced out of the room. You both could hear Charlie a hallway or two away, and she seemed frantic to find her father. Lucifer only sighed, before turning to you.

“Looks like I’ll be seeing you real soon, Darling.” He promised, bowing his head slightly to you. You wanted to scold him for that, about lowering his head to someone of lower class, if he did that in public no doubt the citizens of Hell would mock him for it.

But, you weren’t in public. You were alone, with someone you cherished, able to whisper all your secrets, hopes, and dreams to someone you trusted most. If only you could tell him the truth, and not be stuck here drowning in your own lies.

Lucifer gave you one final glance, before he turned away, strolling through the hall away from your room. A happy whistle came from his lips, and you could hear it slowly fading as he moved away.

Backing up, you plopped down on a bench on the side of the room. The recent events hit you like a freight train, and you realized how terribly stupid you were.

How were you supposed to protect Lucifer from whatever plan Alastor had in store for him, if you were going to keep disregarding your brain for your weak little heart?

Yes, Lucifer was the most powerful being in Hell, far more powerful than that red demon. But, he was also a sad, lonely angel. Who craved affection and attention, which he seemed to want solely from you and Charlie.

If your life were in danger, would he be stupid and risk his own for you? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Your filthy, sinning soulless self wasn’t worth the trouble.

You just wish Lucifer would see that.

For an hour, you paced the perimeter of the room. Your thoughts clear as you evaluated all the metaphorical cards in your hand. If Husk taught you anything about gambling, it was always to call your opponents bluff before he had a chance to do it to you.

Your feet halted suddenly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you stared through the large windows. Your thoughts settling as you watched the waning light.

You weren’t some pushover, some scared little child in need of protection. You weren’t going to let some murderous psychopath take any more control of your life. You were going to call the shots this time, even if that meant being dragged by the throat into that well.

As long as everyone you cared about, even Husker, made it out.

There was only one plan of action you saw ahead. And, it was not going to be the easy route.

“I’m done.”

Alastor halted, the wall sconces in the hallway illuminating his sharp grin as he heard the words leave your lips. It had been four days since you decided you were going to stand against him.

“Pardon?” The words left his lips slowly, his head cracking in-humanely to one side, his ears twisting to face you.

“I said I’m done deceiving for you. I’m not going to lie to Lucifer, or anyone else, for any longer.”

Alastor didn’t say anything, his back still turned to you. His claws tapped against his microphone, rhythmic and loud as he processed your words.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. There’s more to the world than power, Alastor.”

You felt something cold tugging against your neck, that familiar, sickening sensation returning to your body. You sucked in a large breath, calming your rapid heartbeat.

Green illuminated your face as you felt something heavy begin to weigh on your body. Alastor held one of his hands out, before flicking his wrist with a painful pop sound.

The chain snapped forward from the collar around your throat, snaking around your figure as it wove to Alastor’s palm, its green glow casting eerie shadows against the walls. You struggled against its hold, feeling the cold, metallic links digging into your skin. Alastor's laughter echoed through the hallway, a chilling sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"You dare defy me?" Alastor's voice was low, dangerous. "You forget your place, little puppet."

Panic surged through you as you fought against the chain, but it only tightened its hold, squeezing the air from your lungs. You gasped for breath, your vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume you.

"Perhaps a reminder is in order," Alastor said, his tone dripping with malice. "A lesson in obedience."

“Don’t you have any more tricks in the book than this fucking chain?” You growled between gasps, the back of your head sliding against the floor as you twisted against its metal grasp. “C’mon Al, this is just embarrassing.”

Immediately, his face contorted into a look into a large, crooked smile. His eyes shifted to resemble radio dials, as he harshly yanked you towards him. Your cheek slid across the carpet, and you felt the sting of rug burn bloom across your face.

‘Don’t let him see you scared, don’t let him win.’ You begged yourself internally, as you held your tears back.

Alastor’s face began to change, his features sharpening drastically, that crooked smile growing all the more larger. His antlers branched farther from his head, gnarling together in twisting designs above his ears.

Even his hair began to stand on end, as he stalked closer to you. Shadows enveloped the hall, like a fog rolling in. Obscuring the sight of your eventual corpse, as Alastor wrapped the chain around his arm, keeping it taut as he closed in.

“The only embarrassment,” He started, his voice flickering into pure static at his rage, “will be how fast it takes for your s̴͔̓̌̍ç̵̯̮͍͆̿r̷̼̥̿̒̊̐e̸͙̣̯͛̽̒a̷͈̼͗ͅm̵̮͑͛͆s̴̻͊̽̑ to die on your t̸̝͓̆͌͝ö̷̻͚̩̎͊n̸̨̘̭͍̕g̵̱̝͍̈́͛̍ͅû̶̞̼̲͜é̴̺, when I rip your h̷̟̣͚̅̏̔̚͜ë̵̺͙́́a̶͉͙̤͆͋r̶̼̈́͝t̴͙̯̕ out of your throat.”

Archaic symbols danced your vision as Alastor’s entire body seemed to contort into jagged edges, his arms and legs doubling in length, as his hunched back hit the ceiling of the hallway. His crooked neck lowered, his head itching closer. One claw coming out to hook underneath you collar, pulling you up by the neck.

“What will our dear King do then, when he finds your mangled body on his front door?”

You snarled, trying to tear away from his grip. How dare he still try and bring Lucifer into this, even when the fallen angel could pulverize him in an instant. Couldn’t he face you one to one?

The Radio Demon’s eyes flickered a darker red, and you feel the collar begin to tighten around your throat, squeezing the breath from your airways. You gasped, tears pricking at your eyes as you clawed at your neck in a poor attempt to stop the sensation.

“Alastor? Is everything alright over there?”

Suddenly, the squeezing at your throat dispersed like fog, as the collar and chain vanished into thin air. You were left on the floor, sputtering for breath, as Alastor quickly pivoted towards the voice. His body instantly shifted back to normal, with quiet pops and clicks as his joints squeezed back into place.

It was Vaggie, coming down the hall, her eye staring suspiciously at his shaded form.

Clutching your bruising throat, you stumble onto your feet. Your back hits the wall, and you use it for support to catch your breath.

Alastor straightened his suit, his expression morphing into its usual grin as if nothing had happened. “Oh, everything’s just dandy, Vaggie. Just having a delightful little chat with our friend here.” He gestured casually toward you, his tone dripping with false cheerfulness. “Isn’t that right?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with an unknown expression.

“Yeah—cough—sorry, just choked on the water I was drinking.”

“Right. Listen, Alastor, I wanted to talk to you in private. If that’s okay with you.” Vaggie said, gesturing down the hall.

“Of course, it’s always a pleasure speaking with you, my dear!” You didn’t miss the way Alastor’s eye twitched, as if he was not thrilled about having to leave. But, he was deceiving everyone else, too. Which meant he had to play his little part to a T.

“I’m just.. going to go. I’m not feeling so well.” You muttered to the pair, before darting around the corner, out of sight.

You ran to your room, slamming your door behind you. Your back hit its frame, before slowly sliding down until your bottom hit the carpet. Tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, as you continued to rub your neck.

Fuck. Why were you so powerless?! If only you had even a sliver of magic in you, you could have defied him better. Now, what was Alastor going to do?

‘What did you expect?’ A part of your mind hissed scoldingly, ‘You just tried to fight the demon that owns your soul, and got your ass handed to you.’

You growled, rising to your feet. Frustration, sadness, pain, everything seeped out of you, and you felt like killing someone in that moment.

“It’s better—”

You picked up a spare shoe from the ground, your nails digging into it as you bared your teeth. Swinging it behind you, you vaulted it towards the opposite wall.

“—than doing nothing at all!”

You heard glass shattering, and watched shards spill from the mirror above your dresser. You could see your face, partially obscured in its remaining reflection. You could see the slight purple marks around your neck, see the tears spilling from your cheeks.. see that dark look on your features, like you actually would kill somebody.

Reeling back, you placed your knuckles to your lips. Maybe, to stop that lip from quivering so violently. That face in the mirror reminded you of everything you hated about this wretched place.

And, now, you were becoming just like him. You stepped backwards, trying to distance yourself from the reflection, before the back of your legs hit the side of your bed, and you sank into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around your knees, curling into a ball as you sobbed the frustration out of you.

You could still feel the dark magic sizzling against your neck, as if it refused to release you of its hold just yet.

It wasn’t until you heard soft rapping of knuckles against glass did you lift your head. Turning towards the balcony doors, your eyes widen at the sight of the familiar figure standing outside. His silhouette illuminated by the dark red hues of the evening light, as he waved through the frosted glass.

“I see you over there! Can you let me in for a moment?”

What was Lucifer doing here?! This was terrible timing for him to make an appearance! But, he knows you're there, can see your silhouette through the glass as you sit there on the bed. You sighed, quickly cleaning your face of tears, and taking a few deep breaths.

“Come in.” You called hoarsely, cracking the best smile you could muster.

The glass doors slowly pushed out of them, and Lucifer quietly shimmied through the cracks. He pivoted to face you, a large smile on his lips as he squinted at you through the darkness of your room.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to leave and then I remembered I never gave you your caramel apple!”

Lucifer began to stroll forward, your face becoming less obscured in the shadows as he closed in. You tried to shrink away slightly, turning your knees away from him so he couldn’t see them quivering slightly.

“I put a layer of chocolate on it too, and so—wait, why are you crying?” His gaze intensified, as your face finally illuminated in the light.

“I-it’s nothing! I just had something in my eye!” You lied, cracking a wider smile.

“What are those marks on your neck?” Lucifer ignored your excuse, as he stalked closer to you. His eyes constantly scanning your figure looking for any more oddities.

“Please, Lucifer.. I’m just tired and-”

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat. Something more than the small purple marks.

You began to rub your thumbs together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch.

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace.

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he yanked a long, thin chain from your figure, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. As he stepped backwards, it only dragged across the floor, still connected to your neck as it lengthened.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death.

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind soul and rip it away from its owner.

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that.

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused him to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him.

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment.

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making?

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved.

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly.

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity.

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact.

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back.

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are.

Lucifer’s feet carried him back to the lobby, his eyes glowing as he noticed the cat-demon, Husk, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He sharply turned in his direction, surely, this other being

“You, bartender.” Lucifer hissed, as he lifted himself up onto the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. Acting as if only wanting to have a friendly chat with the demon. His claws extended slightly, as they tapped impatiently against the countertop.

Husker looked up from the glass in his hands, his eyes bored and his mouth a thin line as he worked. It wasn’t until he saw Lucifer’s deadly expression did he drop the glass immediately, ears slightly pinned to his head, before straightening his back to address the king.

“I-uh, how can I help you, Your Majesty?”

Lucifer’s lips upturned into a lopsided grin, those sharp teeth on full display. That’s right, some people have to remember exactly who they are dealing with.

“Where is your master?”

Husk paused, regarding Lucifer for a moment with an eyebrow raised. He was very aware of the tension between the two powerful demons, but he didn’t expect the King of Hell would go looking for Alastor.

“I’m not sure, sir. You could bring it up with Charlie when she gets back, I’m sure she knows more than little ol’ me.”

Lucifer grimaced slightly at that. Of all the people in the hotel, his daughter was the last one he’d want to bring into this whole debacle.

“There’s got to be something you must know, bartender. He owns your soul too, does he not?”

“What, you think I keep track of the guy or something?”

“No, but you should,” Lucifer snarled, leaning over the counter, causing Husk to reel back slightly, “it’s clear no one here keeps eyes on that filth, enough to stop him from hurting people in this very hotel.”

Husk seemed to deflate at that. Those long, feathery eyebrows of his lowering slightly as an unreadable expression crossed his face. He set the glass down, before sharply turning away from Lucifer.

“He’s usually in his room, by now,” Husk spoke quietly after a moment, “down the left hall, last door on the right. Ya can’t miss it.”

Lucifer didn’t give thanks, instead he tapped his cane at his side, and golden waves circled around him. In an instant, the King was gone, a few pieces of gold dust landing softly against the barstool.

“Asshole.” Husk muttered, before popping open a bottle of liquor and lifting it to his lips.

Lucifer opened his eyes to see a large door in front of his face, green symbols glittered against its frame, etched into the wood with practiced precision.

Only Lucifer could see them, though. Only powerful wielders of such a force could see these runes. Magical spells, cast upon the room. Protection, defense, muffling, everything an evil guy could dream of.

Although, the demon’s magic was strange. Unfamiler, even. Seems like he’s been dabbling in a new form of sorcery.

Lucifer stood there, for a few moments. He didn’t knock at the door, or jiggle the handle. The Radio Demon was not the one in control here, so he simply waited impatiently for an answer.

“I know you’re in there, you rat.” Lucifer hissed, the horns poking from his head continuing to rise. “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you do us both a favor and show yourself, or are you too much of a coward now?”

Slowly, the door to Alastor’s room creaked open. The interior obscured by thick shadows, with soft lights flickering from the edges of the room as Lucifer continued to stand there.

“Your Majesty!” A cheerful voice called from the shadows of the room, and Lucifer bared his teeth at the tone. “What an honor to have someone like you gracing my presence. Please, come in!”

Lifting his head high again, Lucifer took a confident step into the room. He had every right to be, even in the demon’s own abode, the King’s powers were unmatched.

Lucifer’s lips curled into a sneer at the saccharine greeting. “Save the pleasantries, rat. We both know why I’m here.”

As Lucifer stepped further into the room, the door behind him remained wide open, the light from the hallway illuminating the King’s figure. Alastor’s silhouette still danced within the shadows, the glow of his red eyes illuminating the space as he carefully followed the King’s movements.

“Ah, but do we really, Your Majesty? Enlighten me.”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You have an uncanny knack to create suffering with everything you touch. Now, you pull the strings of innocent lives. Do you thirst for power that fucking badly, to make a deal for someone’s soul?”

“They made a deal on their own whim,” Alastor retorted, waving his hands in a sweeping motion, brushing off the accusation, “How could I say no to such an offer? I’m a demon, if you can recall.”

The lights in the room began to flicker with renewed life, and Alastor’s sharp grin only made the fallen angel want to tear it from his face.

“Demons like you deserve to be ground into dust.” Lucifer snarled, closing the distance between the two. He lifted his head, meeting Alastor’s piercing gaze. His claws wrapped around the Radio Demon’s black bow tie, and he harshly tugged him down to his eye level.

Alastor stared at the grip with a deathly silence, his face contorting into sharper features, his pupils taking the dialed form once more.

Energy crackled in the room, a mix of both demon’s powers as the tension only continued to escalate. Alastor didn’t move from the hold, he knew better than to test that fate.

The lines above Lucifer’s lips scrunching as he stared at the demon with disgust. “You steal the souls of those weaker than you to fill that emptiness in your own, it’s pathetic.”

“Maybe.” Alastor shrugged nonchalantly, before a green spark sizzled against his bow-tie, and it limply fell from his clothing in Lucifer grip. He turned away, stalking towards the cutting board on the counter.

“Don’t walk away from me, you freak. Lest I do everyone in this hotel a favor and remove you from existence right here.”

A dark chuckle bounced against the walls, filling the room as Alastor kept his back to Lucifer. “Ah, but if you kill me, they die too. Souls entwined with each other, you see. Such a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucifer gritted his teeth, cursing his oversight. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Alastor’s voice took on a sly tone. “But fear not, Your Majesty. I’m not without mercy. I understand the affection you hold for such a.. charming demon.”

Lucifer’s gaze hardened, suspicion clouding his features. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we.. make a d̴̻͉̺̆è̴̛͎̟̖̻͐a̵̭̫͆͆̽l̸͓͍̽̆̀̕?” Alastor’s tone crackled with static, as he spun to face the fallen angel. His head tilting curiously to one side, watching Lucifer’s expression.

Lucifer laughed, an audible ha-ha as the words left Alastor’s lips. He twisted his cane between his fingers, his claws leaving small etched lines trailing behind his movements.

“A deal with you? Do you actually expect me to give you my soul?”

Alastor’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, not your soul, silly! It’s nothing too extravagant. Just a little exchange of power. After all, what’s a deal between demons?”

“And, what exactly does this deal entail?”

Alastor paused for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving. “I have.. a few affairs I never got to settle when I died. I’d like to be able to return to that filthy place, whenever and wherever I want.”

“That’s it?” Lucifer asked in disbelief, his head leaning back slightly as he processed the demon’s words. “You want access to the human realm? You’re standing before the King of Hell! Why not simply ask for my title?”

Damnit, Lucifer, is it really the time to get your pride twisted?

“Oh, I couldn’t be bothered to bare such responsibilities of a king. I’d take your strength in a heartbeat though, but we both know you aren’t powerful enough to bless me with such a gift.”

The mockery in Alastor’s tone of the fallen angels' lack of heavenly abilities, spurred Lucifer. Who’s horns were fully out for view now, that small fire licking hungrily between them.

“Well? What is it going to be, Your Majesty?” Alastor hummed, his nails clicking against the countertop. “Do you want their soul or not?”

A demon like Alastor, being granted the ability to leap from the realms? It was much different than giving Amsodueus’ little spawns access via that orange crystal, who didn’t hold the kind of magic the demon before him did.

What would he do when he was up there? Steal more souls? Go on a slaughter spree? There was no telling with the twisted man before him.

But… it was Heaven’s problem. Wasn’t it? It was them who cast Lucifer away from the place he helped create, and now it was their job to clean up the messes.

“Why would you give me something of such value for something like that?” Lucifer asked after a moment.

“Because your little lover is a deep pain in my side, always disrespecting and challenging my words. If it wasn’t for that silver tongue of theirs, I’d have killed them ages ago.”

Lucifer growled, golden flames dancing on his fingertips at Alastor’s words.

“They also don’t have any value. No power, no status, just a beggar on the street when I found them all those years ago. You could say I only made such a deal because I pitied their pathetic existence.”

‘If this guy keeps talking, I might just have to kill him.’

Time stood still in that room for a moment, the ending of the song playing from the radio the only indicator that the realm was still moving around them.

“I’m waiting~” Alastor sung, both demons locking eyes with each other across the room instensly.

As Lucifer weighed the consequences, a firm line set on his lips as he nodded. "Very well, Alastor," he said, extending a hand towards the demon. "We have a deal."

Their hands met in a firm shake, and as their fingers intertwined, a surge of dark energy crackled between them. Wisps of shadow and flame danced around their clasped hands, swirling around the duo.

Alastor was lost in a maniacal fit of laughter, as large eyes and symbols danced around him. That smile on his lips changed, as lines of thread locking his teeth together, as if someone had forcefully stitched that grin in place.

The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of their agreement, and the room pulsed with an otherworldly energy. The very fabric of reality seemed to warp and bend around them as the terms of their pact solidified.

Suddenly, you burst into the room, your eyes widening in fear as you saw the two demon’s hands entwined. You placed a hand to your mouth in shock, as you realized exactly what they were doing.

“Oh, no no no NO!” You cried hoarsely against the loud rushing wind, pushing you against the wall. What kind of deal was Lucifer making?!

With a final burst of darkness, the pact was sealed, and both demons drew back. Alastor’s eyes gleamed with newfound power. His aura crackled with renewed strength, and the demon’s grin widened with satisfaction.

His eyes landed on you, a twisted smirk on his lips as he vanished in a plume of smoke. The intensity of it causing your eyes to water, and to fall into a fit of coughs.

The echoes of their agreement lingered in the air in a mixture of green and gold sparks of energy. Lucifer stood alone in the room, before he took a step backwards, stumbling slightly as you reached him.

Taking his arm, you yank him out of the room, into the hallway. You scan over his figure, your heartbeat quickening as you search for any kind of injuries.

“What did you do? You didn’t make a deal for your soul, did you?!” You cried in panic, your hands on both sides of Lucifer’s face as he blinked away the fog from behind his eyes.

“Of course, I didn’t.” Lucifer muttered between your palms, “I simply gave him some power that he can go fuck off with for the rest of eternity.”

“But.. he c-could—oh, why would you do that?! That was so stupi—”

Lucifer quickly wrapped his fingers around your forearms, shaking you gently to get you to look at him. The slits of his pupils trained intently on your look of distraught.

“For you!” He growled, and you slammed your mouth shut. His breath was ragged, his lips downturned into a painful frown as he watched your lip begin to quiver.

“I made a deal to exchange your soul for a little power, because I cannot bare seeing you suffer any longer. Do you get that? I walked into your bedroom, to find you bruised and in tears. Over what, spilled milk?!”

“I can take it, I've been taking it.” You cried, arms shaking as you fidgeted in his hold. Shame clawing at your throat. Why did you have to be so fucking useless when it came to things like this?

“No! Stop that. Stop lying to me! That ‘everything is fine and dandy’, when it’s not. I’m the goddamn King of Hell, and I can’t even protect you because you refuse to let anyone prove that you matter.”

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, head leaning into your shoulder as he took a deep breath. Your scent easing his anger slowly as he sunk into your embrace.

“You matter so much to me, you and Charlie. If I have to make a deal with a douchebag like him, to save your soul, then so be it. I don’t care what he takes from me.”

Tears spilled from your cheeks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to your knees, and it was your turn to lean into his embrace. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest.

You were finally free from that monster. He couldn’t hurt you anymore, couldn’t lay a finger on you without consequence. Yet, your tears were also of sadness. You had tried so hard to prevent this, to prevent Lucifer from being selfless and allowing Alastor to win.

You felt hands gently rubbing at your back, a soothing motion that quelled your quivering figure slightly. It was so warm, like laying in front of a lively fireplace. You wanted to stay there forever.

You were so tired. The mental exhaustion that had been plaguing your mind all these months finally slamming into you, and you lay there limp against his embrace.

“Please.. please don’t cry. I love you, I love you.” Lucifer whispered softly, his voice cracking as he pulled you deeper into his hold. He kept repeating those words, ‘I love you’, as he placed soft kisses against your forehead.

You felt the soft touch of feathers graze against your ears, and cracked open an eye to see Lucifer’s wings engulfing the both of you. They nestled into you, rubbing against your cheek softly, lulling you into a sleepy daze.

“I’ve got you, I promise.” Lucifer whispered into your ear. “You’re safe, you’re loved, I'm so sorry.”

You placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, and snuggled deeper into his chest. Thankfully, no one was around to bother the two of you as you sat on the floor in the hall.

Just five minutes. That’s all you needed, five minutes basking in his warmth, in his soft words of affection. Five minutes to promise yourself you’d never let him do something like this again.

And maybe, everything would be alright.

you guys 😭 i made sure this fic was cooked, damnit!! A little more fast-paced than usual, but I hope you can forgive me for that. i also could not settle on what kind of deal alastor wanted to make, so i blind drew out of a hat. i just wanted to bring in a little drama, and it’s hard when one of them is can be easily bodied haha

i honestly have to stop telling yall how long I think my fics will be bc i said “oh i want this to be as long as artist!reader pt. 4”, yet it’s roughly 6-7k over it someone kill me

let me know what you think 🫶

[Lucifer] taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #lucifer #alt title: you’re the rizzler this time

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keruimi · 9 months ago

Text

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

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bernardsbendystraws · 11 months ago

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𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎ mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

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CHAPTER 7: THE MORE YOU KNOW

Matt’s POV

My scalp was sore from the amount of bows that had been clipped to my hair. But, I wasn’t complaining–not when I heard her giggling next to me. Her laugh made my brain go numb, I didn’t want to hold back my words out of fear around her like I did with everyone else. If anything–I muttered any thought that had a chance of making her smile.

I liked it when people smiled at me. It felt rewarding. We hadn’t grown very big on YouTube, but our small fan base had all determined I was the ‘quiet’ one. I wasn’t. I had opinions, I just didn’t always know how to voice them. Not when my brain was screaming at me–telling me I sounded stupid.

It was heartwarming to rewatch old videos. Memories that would live indefinitely. But, it was also heart-wrenching. Every single word or sentence I said was always being analyzed by thousands of people. It made my lips seal with uncertainty.

Not around her, though. Not around her.

She made me want to take risks. I would’ve never stayed in my teacher’s house to babysit her kid–too scared of somehow letting chaos pursue. She made me want to stay, she made me want to try new things.

We had tucked-in little Hailey in her small bed awhile ago. She had read to the girl while I sat on the end of the bed, admiring her silky and expressive voice. She was careful with the pages of the kids book, seemingly scared to even leave a single fingerprint.

Curled up beneath my arm, she leans into me on the sofa. My hands wrap around her, rubbing the sweater–my sweater on her arm. She looked perfect in my clothes. It made some territorial part of me relax, even though she wasn’t mine. She at least looked like it.

“Y/n?” I ask. I hear her hum against my chest, her fingers twiddling with the horse pendant hung around my neck. “How do you know Mrs. Evans?” I ask. Her fingers drop the horse pendant, picking it back up hesitantly.

“Well,” she clears her throat. “She uh–she used to teach at my elementary school in the next town over. Her and…her and my mom used to be best friends.” She explains.

Used to. Only her dad was in the house, not a single picture frame on the walls–something my mom was adamant on for making a ‘house’ a ‘home.’

My heart breaks for the girl as I feel her let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.” I say. She shrugs her shoulders. “It was a long time ago, it’s okay.” She responds. Her tone is too even, emotion lacking in her voice. I squeeze her shoulder in, leaning my head on top of hers.

“It’s not okay, that must’ve been so hard. I’m here if you need anything, you know that, right?” She looks up with a semi-smile. I let my eyebrows raise, pushing the question further. “Trust me, I know. I mean–you’re here right now, are you not?” She retorts.

I squint my eyes at her. “Toućhe.” I replied. Her phone rings with a text. She pulls the screen up from her lap. She turns the screen towards me as I let my eyes adjust.

[Era Evans: Almost home. You guys are good to leave whenever, thank you!]

I pat on her shoulder as she stands up. I follow behind as she tip-toes to the door quietly. We both slip our shoes on. I grasp the keys tightly in my hand, preventing the metal from jingling. I open the door as she walks through the threshold. I follow, slowly closing the door with a soft thud.

I turn around, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the car. “Why are you in such a rush!” I hear her say. I push her into the passenger seat, buckling her in as fast as humanly possible. I ran over to the driver’s side, putting the keys in the ignition.

“Because,” the engine sounds as I press my foot onto the gas. “You owe me a date.” I remark. I make a quick glance over, seeing her smile from ear-to-ear. I fight the urge to reach out to her, instead putting the heat on full blast in the cold car. “Holy fuck, my hands are gonna freeze off.” I mutter.

I hear her giggle as I turn down the street. “Here.” She says. She grabs my right hand from the wheel, pulling it. I feel her thighs clamped around my hand, warming it instantly. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach make me swallow thickly as I resist the urge to grab at her warm, clothed thigh.

At least she won’t be able to see how hard I am from my puffer jacket.

“Where are we going anyway? It’s almost ten.” She says. I shrug my shoulders, “Honestly, I didn’t think that far.” I admit. “Matt!” She teases. My name falling from her lips makes me bite my inner cheek harshly in an attempt to distract the blood from rushing downwards even more.

I want her to be mine so bad. So bad, it hurts. I pull my hand out from her thighs. “Thank you, that really helped.” Yeah, really helped me get a fucking boner. I clench and unclench my hands on the steering wheel, debating where to take her.

It’s freezing–there’s no way she’s gonna want ice cream. Nearly nothing is open.

“I can see you overthinking, Matt. Anything is fine. There’s always more opportunities on our second date.” I hear her laughter stop at the end of her sentence. “--not that I’m saying we have to–”

I place my hand on her knee, snapping my eyes to hers at the stop sign as an idea flickers into my head. “I want a second date, trust me.” I confess. I see a slight pink hue paint on her face. My lips curl into a smile.

I pull into the parking lot, seeing it nearly barren besides cars parked underneath the streetlights.

“Stay in the car while I run into the store real quick? I really want it to be a surprise. I’ll be so fast–I promise.” I quickly say. I look over, seeing her lips quiver as she slaps her hand over her mouth. Her muted laughs muffle through her hand before she clears her throat.

“Mhm, yep. I’ll stay-” I start getting out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition with the heat blasting from the AC. “Wait! Your keys!” She announces. I shake my head at her. “I’ll be quick. Stay warm!” I sing, shutting the door softly.

I hope she loves this.

Y/n’s POV

I stayed in the car until Matt came back. He placed a plastic bag in the backseat, breathless as he started driving. “You good there?” I tease. He nods his head, holding up a finger to give him a minute. I laugh at his heavy pants, the roads starting to look familiar.

“I was thinking we could pop open the trunk, or we could do it in my bed–wait.” I screech, laugh hysterically as his face cringes. “---not like that, I swear! It’s just cold and we’re gonna need our hands-FUCK!” He slams his hands down with frustration.

My gut clenched in pain as I felt tears cloud my vision. When’s the last time I cried from laughing so hard? I hear his laugh synchronize with my own. I wrap my hand around his arm, leaning my head onto his bicep. “Let’s go to yours so you're not freaking out about giving me hypothermia the entire time.” I retorted.

I feel his head nod against my own. “Yeah,” he turns down the street, his house coming into view. “--you’re right.” He lets out. He parks the car on the street in front of his house. I hear a click and the sound of him unclicking my seatbelt as I sit up straighter.

He gets out of the car as I attempt to do the same. Pushing and tugging on the handle, the door doesn’t budge. I see his face prop down at eye level through the window, giving me a disapproving look. He put the child lock on. My jaw drops at the realization as I sit back in my seat, waiting for him to open the door.

I feel the cold wind rush in through the door as he opens it. His dry chuckle as he holds out an open hand. I slide my hand in his, standing up next to him. He guides us to this door, muffling his laugh as I drag my feet with embarrassment.

He drops his hold on me, unlocking the door. “Ya know,” I say, watching him jiggle the metal in the lock. “--I can open my own door, I don’t need help.” I remark. He twists the knob, opening the door wide. I walk in the house, sliding my shoes off by the row of others. He does the same, shrugging his coat off and hanging it on the rack.

“Here.” He reaches out, helping pull the coat off my arms and hanging it on his own. I look over to the couch, seeing Nick and a brown-haired girl on the couch. They turn around, Nick waving at me.

“This is Madi. Madi, this is Y/n. Otherwise known as your replacement.” I furrow my eyebrows at his explanation, looking back at Matt who shakes his head, covering his face with his hands. My eyes wander back to the couch, watching as Madi rolls her eyes.

“Dude, we dated in freshman year for a week!” Her doe eyes wander back to me as she gives me an un-entertained look. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.” I nod at her statement, awkwardly shifting my weight between my feet.

“That’s enough of whatever the fuck this is–bye!” Matt waves. He grabs my hand, the plastic bag crinkling in his other. “--sorry about that. Nick likes to tease us about it, even after nearly four years or however long it’s been.” He mumbles.

Our feet patter on the floor, stopping in front of his door as he swings it open. He pushes me gently with his palm on the small of my back. I let myself sit down on the edge of his bed, the cushy mattress sinking in from my weight.

“Close your eyes for me.” He mentions. I let my vision go dark as he flips on the light. I hear his footsteps and ruffling of the bag before something is placed in my hands. A box. “Okay, okay. Look!” I open my eyes, looking down at the multi-colored box with confusion.

“What is it?” I ask. I hear Matt gasp, taking the box and flipping it to the other side. “Only the best thing in the world! It’s Legos!” He replies. The excitement radiates off of him, making my skin pulse with anticipation.

“Oh!! I’ve always wanted these!” I peel the box back into my hands, looking closely at the blocks stacked into various small animals. It has frogs of all different colors. I squeal in excitement as I hand him back the box. “Open it! Open it!” I urge. He turns around, pulling a pair of scissors out from his desk and slicing off the tap, pulling the cardboard open.

He walks over, dumping a pile of plastic filled bags in the center of his bed. I crawl up to the head of the bed, feeling his weight pull my body down to his as our thighs brush together. The jeans on my thighs rub on my skin, creasing into my stomach discomfitingly. “Oh, and…” He reaches down to the plastic store bag, pulling out flannel pajama pants. Blue and green pattern the material as he looks at the tags, handing me one. “--matching PJs!”

The soft material against my hands makes my smile grow as I fling myself into my arms. “You didn’t have to! Thank you! This is all so sweet!” I bring my hand up, ruffling his hair as he scrunches his nose. I pull back, looking into his eyes as his hands grip onto my hips. His lips are slightly parted, his breath fans onto my lips as I start closing the distance.

I just wanna feel his lips on mine.

I watch as his eyes flutter closed, his face becoming soft. My heart races in my chest as his hands squeeze my hips. Our lips brush in a soft kiss, a smacking noise sounding from the subtle movement. I lean back in as I feel him smile against me.

His hand curls around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. Our lips tangle with passion, a flood of adrenal shooting through my body as my hips plead to move against him. I pull away breathlessly, watching his eyes slowly open to meet mine. “Lego time, motherfucker.” I say.

He grins up at me. I go to move, but his hands lock on my hips in a desperate grip. I look up, seeing his head thrown back and his mouth ajar. “Fuck.” he hisses. The single word sends shots of electricity straight down to my core as I freeze. “--’m sorry, here.” He pulls me off of him, lifting my hips above before sliding me over.

I sit next to him, watching as he adjusts with a pillow over his lap. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me to help you.” I joke. He gives me a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “I want this night to be special–not like that.” he explains.

My hands grip each other in my lap as I feel my breath stutter from my lips. “I’m serious–I don’t want that from you. Wait–well, I’m gonna shut up.” He blushes. I laugh at his sudden change. “I’ll change in the bathroom, you should get in your pjs with me!” I nod, watching him walk off with the flannel pants.

I take off my pants, letting them fall to the floor and pulling on the soft material over my legs. My skin rubs gingerly against the fabric. I let out a sigh of relief as Matt knocked from the bathroom door. “Ya decent?” I let out a hum, watching as he walks out with the matching pants.

He walks around, sitting on his side of the bed. His side.

I smile, catching the thought with admiration. A flutter of butterflies swarms my gut as I watch him pull the direction packet out of the box.

He reaches out, handing me a manual. I open the packet, analyzing the directions. I hand him a bag, directing him as he shoves pieces into my hands. “Come on, it’s no fun just reading the directions.” he reasons. I squint my eyes at him, taking the pieces and placing them in the correct places, as shown.

A calm had settled over us as we focused on building the miniature frogs. There were a handful of colors. Green, blue, yellow, and orange. All bright and vibrant. He played soft music on his phone in the background. I placed the final piece of my second frog. “Done!” I remark.

Matt looks up with a smile, holding up his own. “Me too!” he says. I let the laugh escape my mouth, admiring his pure excitement. “Which colors do you want?” I look up at him with questioning eyes. “You’re taking two, pick which colors.” He directs.

“Are you serious?” He nods. I look at the four frogs, then back up at him. “Which two do you want?” I ask. He shrugs. “Whichever ones you don’t.” I roll my eyes at his response, shaking my head with a soft laugh.

“No, tell me–” He cuts me off. “If you don’t pick, you’re keeping all of 'em.” He says, a serious tone layered in his voice. I point to the green and blue.

He happily places them in my hand as I cradle the small objects. “Thank you.” I say. He nods his head, clearing the bed of materials. “Thank you.” He says. I furrow my eyebrows at him, watching as he pulls the frogs from my hand, placing them on his nightstand. “For what?” I ask.

He turns back around, his eyes gleaming down into mine. I feel his hands grip my own, his breath fanning ever-so-slightly across my face. “Doing this with me–just being here. I really appreciate you.” My eyes well up from his kind words, my lips forming into a pout. “Matt.” I breathe out.

“Just–come here.” He holds out his arms. I let my body fold onto his, his arms swarming around me in a secure hold. A tear sneaks out the corner of my eye, falling into my hair. “That was the sweetest thing you could’ve said–oh my god, I’m trying so hard not to cry right now.” I laugh.

I pull myself up, propping my elbow on the bed. I feel him grab my wrist, stopping me from whipping the stray tears. He takes his own hand, swiping under my eyes. “Don’t. Don’t hold back around me, please.” I let the cry escape my lips as I nod. I fall back onto his chest, hugging my arms tightly around him as he does the same.

His palm caresses the back of my head. My tears soak into his shirt as I let out small sniffles. It’s more comfortable than my bed, it’s more comfortable than his soft purple sweater. I feel my insecurities shrink, the volume of my anxiety quieting as his arms engulf me.

To lose this feeling, to lose him would hurt in a way I had never experienced before. What would it be like to lose someone that I know I could love?

“Matt?” I hear him hum from above me. “We better be going on that second date.” I laugh. His chest shakes from beneath me. “I was really hoping you’d say that.” He replies.

He pulls me closer, his lips pressing against my scalp softly. I hum at the sensation, letting myself curl further into his embrace. I let my eyes close, feeling as he shifts underneath me.

The sound of a bang makes my eyes shoot open. “Fuck.” Matt mutters, huffing with annoyance. I look up, seeing one of his shoes thrown towards the door. The bottom print of the shoe marks the wall with dirt, right below the light switch.

I laugh, watching as he grabs his other shoe from the floor. He squints one eye while lining his aim. He lets the shoes go, the room becoming pitch black at the sound of a bang on the wall. “There, now come here.” He says, nuzzling his arms tighter around me.

I let my body fall limp, his thumb drawing circles on my arm.

Waking up, a thin layer of sweat covered me as I felt my body being pushed into the mattress. I blow the hair out of my face, looking down to see Matt directly on top of me. His head rests on my chest, soft snoring escaping his lips.

The sunlight streaks through the blinds, his hair looking irresistibly soft. I let my hands reach up, tangling in his scalp as he lets out a groan. “Goodmorning.” He says. His voice made my stomach clench at the depth of his tone, rough and groggy. He hums in contentment.

“What the..?” He lifts his head up. His wide eyes meet my gaze. I watch his cheeks turn pink, pushing his head back down onto my breasts.

“--’s fine, I don’t wanna get up yet.” I voice. He lays tense before leaning back onto me. My nails groom through his hair. He lets out a long sigh. “That feels so good.” He whispers. I smile, ruffling his hair playfully.

“I bet those bows hurt, hm?” I tease. He looks up, nodding at me. “Yes–but, how could I say no?” He says. I laugh, nodding in agreement. “You looked cute with bows.” I compliment. He smiles up at me with innocent eyes. “Really?” He asks.

I laugh at his question. “You look cute now, goof.” I replied. He nuzzles his head back onto my chest, humming in content. “We look cute–especially in our matching pajamas.” He mentions. I hum in agreement.

“We’re hanging out the rest of the day, right?” He asks. I let the giggle push past my lips. “Matt! You’re gonna get sick of me!” I remark. “Nuh-uh. I could never. I think I could lay here forever.” He says softly. His hand slides up my waist, directly underneath my breast while his thumb soothes back and forth.

“Chocolate chip pancakes?” He asks as he looks up at me. I quickly nod my head, immediately going to move. He pins me down with his body weight, flushed cheeks heavily apparent. I go to question him, but my mouth stops as he shakes his head. “--give me a minute.” He mutters.

I realize he shifts, a hard bulge prodding at my leg as he readjusts.

My stomach was full from pancakes. We had made enough for his entire family, setting them out on the counter for when the household members would wake up. His hand held mine as we sat side-by-side on the couch.

“What’s your dad like?” He asks. I tense at the question, not even understanding how to begin to answer.

“Uhhhh…I don’t know, he’s just my dad?” I say. Matt gives me a questioning look. “He works for the school district? I don’t know–what do you want to know about him?” I push. Matt shrugs, scratching his jawline.

“Well,” he starts. “--what do you guys typically do together? My dad takes us all fishing sometimes.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“We’re not really that close, I guess? He works a lot.” I opt out. I mean, he does. Matt nods his head.

“Can I ask you something?” I nod. “--and I want you to be honest, okay?” I continue bobbing my head up and down, nerves flooding my body as his eyes meet mine.

“Why did it hurt when I barely touched your hair the other day? Why did you lie about it?” He asks. My stomach churns, my hand becoming clammy in his.

I clear my throat, my eyes leaving his. “Matt, I-,” I start.

“Did he do it?” He cuts off. My eyes flicker back up to him as I sigh. “He didn’t mean to--actually.” He gives me an unconvinced look, shaking his head with a clenched jaw. “--I’m serious! He’s trying to stop drinking, he grabbed onto my hair by accident.” I emphasize.

Matt grasps my hand tighter, pulling it to his mouth as he plants a kiss on it. “You can’t be living like that. That’s not okay.” He states. I know it’s not okay, but I’m not ready to give up on him. It’s gonna hurt.

“I know, Matt. He’s been making progress.” I explain. Matt sighs. “You’re welcome here anytime. Please just—please call me if you ever need anything.” His blue eyes seep into mine. “--please.” He finishes.

I nod my head, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I’ll try–I don’t know why, but asking for help is just….it’s just hard.” I express softly.

His lips tug into a smile. “I know, but it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. Speaking of–what’s your first task for your list?” He asks.

I lick over my lips, prodding my tongue in my cheek. “Honestly–I’m really scared of having my nails done.” I joke.

“Ha-ha.” Matt says in a flat tone. He grabs my hand, looking down at my nails. “I’ll paint them if ya tell me something that’s on your list?” He offers. I nod my head, watching as he stands up.

“Don’t look! I want it to be a surprise!” He warns. I giggle, keeping my head turned to the side. I feel the wetness on my fingernails as he blows air onto my hand. I feel him press softly into the painted nail.

“They’re dry! Here, now you can look.” He says. I whip my head around, bringing my hands up to my face with a gasp. They’re painted a pastel blue. The edges are neat, not a single drop of paint staining my cuticles.

“Thank you, they’re perfect!” I remark, pulling him into a hug. I make sure to keep my fingers flared up to the air, unsure of how the polish works.

Matt hugs me back tightly before I pull back, admiring the nails once more. He laughs at my reaction. “They’re all dry, but I would be careful.” I nod at the directions, taking a mental note.

“So,” he starts. “What’s first to-do on your list?” He asks. I suck in my bottom lip. He massages my hand in his as I let my mind wander to depths I typically avoided.

“I don’t know…” he gives me a knowing look as I huff. “Promise you won’t judge?” I ask. He separates his hand from mine, pulling out my pinky and looping it into his own. I laugh at the innocent gesture as he squeezes my hand back into his grip.

“I pinky-promise. Now, start talking, sweetheart.” His accent is thick as the name rolls off his tongue. My cheeks feel hot as I let my eyes wander down to our intertwined hands. My fears and doubts fade as his thumb grazes over the back of my hand.

I look up, meeting his piercing gaze. His lips are tugged into a reassuring smile as I bite the inside of my cheek gently. “I-uh…I’ve always wanted to go to the playground, I guess? I just–I didn’t really get to go a lot as a kid, but I feel weird going as an adult.” I let out a nervous laugh.

My brain swarms with thoughts as I anticipate his response. “Oh!” I gasp, an idea flickering in my head. “--I’ve always wanted to color in a princess coloring book, I never got one as a kid.” I explain. His blue orbs meet mine, squinting from his cheeks curling up from his light smile. “--sorry, we don’t have to do–” he cuts me off, leaning in. His nose brushes against mine, his breath fanning over my lips.

“Good thing I have a printer, hm?” My eyes light up with excitement as I watch him reach over, pulling open his nightstand drawer. He pulls out a colored pencil box as I shift my shoulders with anticipation. “Here, find a couple pictures you like while I go do something, okay?” He says.

I nod, hesitantly grabbing his phone as he sets it in my hands. “It’s 2-5-8-3.” My fingers type the code, the phone unlocking.

Matt held the array of papers in his hand as he grabbed me by the hand, looping it around his arm and leading me into his neighborhood park. It wasn’t far from his house, but he had insisted on driving. His other hand held a blanket and a tote bag. He had refused to tell me what was inside of it, the curiosity eating away at me with each step we took.

He laid the blanket out underneath a large, oak tree. He set down the bag, placing the papers down underneath the box of pencils to ground them. Matt had dressed me ridiculously warm, even though the snow had all melted. The subtle breeze was chilly, but definitely not cold enough to require a winter coat, gloves, and a hat.

I had taken them all off, starting to sweat. He gave me a knowing look before I grabbed his hand, placing it onto my slightly damp forehead. He muttered under his breath, handing me a clipboard and holding out the coloring pages.

I picked the sheet of paper that had initially grabbed my attention. A princess that had curly-ish hair. She wore a corset and a dress underneath, singing to animals in the woods. “Is Aurora your favorite princess?” Matt asks.

I shrug. “I’ve never seen any princess movies. Not since before I can even remember.” I state. His eyebrows furrow as he nods his head slowly. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you up on ‘em.” He expresses softly. I give him a soft, appreciative smile.

“So,” I pull out the green colored pencil, shading the bottom of her dress carefully. “--who's your favorite princess?” I ask. I focus on the task at hand, my tongue slightly poking out as I concentrate on keeping the color within the printed line.

“I’m not really sure, to be honest.” He answers. “--my favorite sidekick has to be Pascal from Rapunzel, though. My man is really doing the most.” He jokes. I take a mental note, nodding my head. He pulls his phone out, handing it over to me.

“Here,” he opens it with his face ID. “--play some music, whatever ya want.” He offers. I smile, clicking on a couple of songs as the music plays softly in the background. He reaches into the bag, pulling out an array of bagged snacks. Chips, cookies, even candy and sodas.

“Matt!” I exclaim, my heart filling with warmth as he shoves the treats further towards me. “--you didn’t have to do all of this!” I let out. He opens the soda can, pushing it into my hands. “I know, I wanted to.” He states.

I sip the sugary liquid, coughing at the unfamiliar tingle. When’s the last time I had soda? “I haven’t had soda in forever.” I say, slightly embarrassed. He shakes his head, taking a swig of his own drink. “This one is my favorite, I love rootbeer. Do you have a favorite?” He asks.

Do I have a favorite? I clear my throat, my chest constricting slightly. I don’t have any favorites because I simply don’t know. “Like I said, it’s been awhile, I don’t really know.” I say, twisting my lips to the side as I bite on the inside of my cheek.

“That’s okay,” he smiles down at me, his eyes seeping into mine with a comforting reassurance. “--I didn’t know my favorite princess, either, remember? We can figure it out together.” He says. I feel the smile form on my face as I look back down to the paper.

“This was really sweet, Matt. I really appreciate it.” I express. My head wanders upwards, seeing him scratching at the back of his neck nervously. He clears his throat. “I was-uh…I was hoping–maybe this could be our second date? It doesn’t have—” He stumbles over his words, his eyes looking to the side of my head.

I reach my hand out, letting my fingers rub over his shoulder. “Matt, I’d love that.” I express. His eyebrows raise with surprise. “Really?” He asks. I give him a curt nod. “Really.” I say.

The snacks were almost all nearly gone, the sky turning from a pale blue to a cotton-candy sunset. We had played like kids on the playset for hours on end. My hands were calloused from the monkey bars, my legs sore from running from Matt chasing me.

No fears, no ghosts looming over my shoulders. Just us. “Gotcha!” He yells, tackling me in a bear-hug from behind. I giggle uncontrollably, my chest heaving with gasps of air. I didn’t know if it was the fact that I was full or if I had slept like a baby with him last night. Something told me that it was just how he made me feel, but I was bursting with energy.

He curls his head into the crook of my neck as he sways us side-to-side. His pants fan across my neck, my heart racing as I lean into his touch. “Gotcha.” He repeats in a whisper. I let out a soft laugh, letting the giggles die down as we stood, watching the sun sink below the horizon in front of us.

I turn my head around, meeting his eyes as he gleams down at me. The golden hue highlights his features perfectly, carving out his face like art. “You look beautiful.” We both speak at the same time. I laugh, feelling his chest rack with vibrations from behind me.

We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes lingering together. He pulls me closer to him, his lips against my head as he speaks. “You are beautiful.”

Walking back to his home in a comfortable silence was peaceful. We laid down in his bed, tangling our limbs together.

“What’s the scar on your arm really from?” His voice slices through the calm silence, my body tensing at his words. I don’t answer, I can’t find the words to answer. “It’s from him, isn’t it?” He continues. I nod my head in his chest, fiddling with the horse pendant that loops around his neck.

“It was years ago. It’s the only time something like that has ever happened, I swear.” I promise, looking up to his somber eyes. He gulps, his clouded eyes flickering closed. He lets out a deep breath, pushing back the hair from my face. His delicate touch leaves a warmth.

“Promise me,” he swallows thickly, looking down at me. “--promise me that’ll you’ll tell me if something ever happens.” I let my eyes flicker down to his necklace, the cold metal weighing down my fingertips.

“Nothing’s gonna happen–”

“Promise me. Please.” He urges. I look up, peeling his hand away from my head. I take his pinky, looping it on my own. “I promise.” I say, looking between his eyes. He nods before nuzzling me into his chest.

It’s the truth. He wouldn’t mean to hurt me–I knew that. The regret on his face after I had screamed out from the cigarette burn haunted my thoughts. Deep down, I knew it haunted his own too.

I woke up in my own bed this morning. I clung onto the soft, purple sweater in my sleep, dreaming of him. I couldn’t recall what the dream had enquired about, but I woke up with a smile etched on my lips softly. The rumors had died-down at school, classes passing by as Matt and I kept exchanging glances throughout the entire school-day.

He had forced Chris to sit in the back, despite him bickering back. He did the same as we drove back to his home, making Chris pout like a child from the backseat. “I have hockey practice tonight, but I figured–”

“SHUT UP! MADI’S COMING OVER! WANNA HANG OUT?!” Nick cuts off. I nod my head, laughing at his excitement. He claps his hands, his grin growing on his face.

“We’ll be back at like 6, I think.” He adds. He drops Nick and I off, heading back to school with Chris happily returning to his usual seat in the front. They drive off, Nick dragging me into the house with passionate steps.

Madi had arrived soon after they left. The more we talked, the more I wanted to keep talking. She didn’t make me feel judged, she just simply wanted to get to know me. We had briefly talked about Matt–she explained how they only dated because they felt like they had to. The pressure of highschool got to their heads, but they returned to being friend’s without any awkwardness.

The boys had returned back from hockey practice, sweaty and gross. But, they were also starved. Marylou and Jimmy had prepared dinner. We all sat, small conversation ensuing while we laughed. None of the people at the table were family, but it felt like they were.

After eating, Matt had taken me up to his room despite Nick and Madi’s groans. He sat me down on the bed. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be fast.” He muttered before racing into his bathroom.

The water only ran for a couple of minutes before he walked out of the bathroom door.

My eyes widen at the sight in front of me. His hair was slightly damp, darker than usual from the water. A pair of gray sweatpants hung dangerously low on his waist. I gulped, my eyes glued to his abdomen and displayed tattoos.

I hear him laugh, laying down next to me. “You’re so respectful, hm?” He teases. I bite down on my lips, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. “--’s okay, come here.” He pulls me down to his bare chest. My palm rests on his bare skin, the touch making my breath feel uneven.

“How was practice?” I ask. I trace circles onto his stomach, watching as his stomach clenches and unclenches from under my touch in the slightest. He grabs my hand in his own, holding it securely. I look up, seeing his eyes shut tightly.

“If you want me to be able to think–you can’t do that.” He voices. I smirk, bring my hand back down. I repeat the same action, this time letting my blue nails graze lightly along his stomach hair that trails down. I hear him suck in a gasp at my touch.

I continue the action, pulling myself up to his ear. “Maybe,” I swipe just beneath the waistband of his sweats, his lips parting. “--I don’t want you to think.” I taunt. I smile proudly, watching his eyes glaze over with lust, his eyes dilating while gleaming into mine.

A knock on the door sounds, Matt groening and throwing his head back. “What!” He shouts, displeased. I let my palm rest back on his chest.

“We’re all playing games, come on! Mom wants Y/n!” I hear Nick shout. Matt rolls his eyes. “Fine!” He yells back. I smile at his blank face, watching him rub along his jaw. He stands up, pulling a hoodie on. Offering me a hand, he pulls me up from the bed.

He doesn’t take a step back. We stand face-to-face. His eyes flicker down to my lips. “Can I have a different hoodie?” I ask. Matt nods his head, walking over to his closet and pulling out a purple sweatshirt. He tosses it to me.

I smirk, an idea popping into my head. Before hesitating at all, I pull the shirt over my head. I see Matt’s eyes bulge out of his head, his gaze focusing on my covered breasts. I put on the hoodie, walking over to Matt who stands frozen in place.

I giggle, gripping his jaw playfully between my pointer finger and my thumb. “How respectful, hm?” I retorted. His tongue prods inside of his mouth at his cheek. He grabs my wrist, pulling my hand down with a smirk.

“You really wanna play that game? Hm, sweetheart?” I squint my eyes at his words, shrugging with a proud smirk. “Nope, I wanna go play games with your family. I’m gonna go head down–I’ll meet you down there whenever you calm down.” I motion to his crotch, the slight bulge very apparent.

A slight pink hue crosses his cheeks. I open the door, giving him a small wave. “See ya!” I say, walking down the hallway with light steps as the excitement brushes through my veins.

@sturniolosmind @freshloveforthefit @gnxosblog @sturnreblog @milasturniolo @mattscokewhore @melanch0lybby @stars4matt @samandcolbyfan22 @ruedowney @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @greatooglymooglyyy

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warblogs17282 · 4 months ago

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A quick breakdown on how Blitz has made IMP's + Stolas' lives better.

Millie:

To start, Blitz shatters the stereotypes and such Millie grew up surrounded by and believing, more specifically, the stereotypes of that Wrathians are only good for muscle and that all she could be is a simple farm girl or an underpaid goon. Blitz shatters these by quickly calling out those stereotypes as 'bullshit', and proceeds to list off Millie's good qualities, which are much more then just muscle. And well, we definitely see the qualities Blitz said Millie had in her all the time. "You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring."

Plus, the line where Millie said that Blitz made her feel like she could be anything as well, because she believed that Blitz could be anything. Blitz made Millie believe that she could be more than a simple farm girl, more than an underpaid goon.

"He gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend."

Moxxie:

The classic scene where Blitz just talks a mile a minute, never gets old. But seriously, the first thing of note is just how Blitz is instantly able to point out a good quality in Moxxie, that being, the fact that Moxxie is really good with guns. Just look at Moxxie while Blitz is talking about things like his daughter and his plan on how to get out of the prison. Blitz is able to very quickly uplift Moxxie by just being his mile a minute self, and that is a quality I love in Blitz.

Plus, alongside breaking Moxxie out of prison, he also got him a life away from Crimson, his abusive father. Away from the mob life he was forced into, even as a young child.

Plus, I feel like we can also apply Millie's line of "He gave me so much…A career, a husband, a future. And now…He's my best friend." to Moxxie. A career, a wife, a future outside of Crimson and the mob family. I imagine the best friend part holds true as well.

Loona:

You all remember why Blitz adopted Loona, right? It's because Blitz saw so much of himself in Loona. Blitz felt the need to prevent Loona from going through similar things that he did, to break the cycle of abuse, to give Loona a caring and loving father that Blitz never had. All of this being a month before she grew out of the adoption system.

And Blitz's love and care for Loona is quite obvious, which Loona herself admits to in s2 e2.

"That doesn't mean they don't care." and "He may not always get it right, but he's trying."

This is the most obvious example of Blitz loving and caring for Loona, that Loona recognizes that Blitz loves and cares for her greatly, despite Blitz being flawed and imperfect (cause let's be real, no one is perfect or not flawed at all).

Stolas:

As well as giving Stolas some of the best days he's ever had in his life, Blitz also gave Stolas the ability to stand up to Stella, the person who abused Stolas for all of those years. To allow Stolas to have his own autonomy, to be his own person, instead of feeling like he has to follow along with whatever Stella and/or the Goetia family wants him to do. He also gave Stolas the courage to get the divorce, which in turn, massively helps to take away the power Stella had over Stolas for all of those years.

#helluva boss #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #stolitz #helluva boss stolas #moxxie helluva boss #helluva boss millie #loona helluva boss

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in-sufficientdata · 8 months ago

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ID: Bluesky post by Ro Salarian (@RoSalarian.bsky.social):

I often wonder if abusive people are drawn to the arts, or if a certain amount of notoriety just makes people turn to shit. I am involved in a lot of different art scenes, and every single one has a whisper network about some big names who nobody feels they can address directly.

Kelly Barnhill (@KellyBarnhill.bsky.social) quotes this on July 10, 2024 at 6:47pm EST and responds:

Sexual predation is clearly not limited to the arts, and so-called "whisper networks" exist in every profession. And ultimately these networks always, always fail. They don't reach the most vulnerable and they don't ever remove the offender or prevent future harm. end ID.

At the source, the thread continues:

When I was growing up, I had a friend whose house had a bad stair - a nail sticking up on one side, and on the other side if you stepped wrong, the whole tread could flip up and send you flying backwards. We had to be told to avoid that stair. It was dangerous. We couldn't forget.

The trouble was, it looked like every other stair. Sometimes we did get hurt. This went on for years. Finally, one of the other parents in the neighborhood was like THE CHILDREN ARE GETTING INJURED and the whole "rule" of avoidance, of letting people know, was thrown out. They fixed the stair.

Now, this was dumb, of course. Who just has a stair that looks like every other stair but is boobytrapped in this bonkers way? Well, lots of people, as it turned out. And this wasn't so bad, as injuries go - a skinned knee or the occasional puncture wound.

Imagine if they had a stair that was, say, secretly filled with bees. Or poisoned. Or a one-way portal to one of the various realms of Hell. And it was there, like any other stair, looking benign. Maybe it was even fancied up - attracted the eye and tickled the fancy. A rock star stair. Well.

It's problematic, is my point. Leaving a danger in plain view is problematic. Simply relying on a network of people warning people and washing our hands of the whole affair is problematic. And worse, it abdicates responsibility. This is not how grown-ups should behave.

Part of the problem stems from the Myth of Male Genius - organizations twist themselves in knots to protect their access to whatever Male Genius they've tied their careers to, be they philosophers or physicists, conductors or or inventors, teachers or hotshot attorneys. We've all experienced this.

And while it's [notallmen] or [notonlymen] or whatever tagline you want to throw at me - yes, I know, and yes, I agree, and yes I'm certain that toxic and predatory women exist and have also harmed but I honestly can't think of any at the moment - it all stems from a central problematic fallacy:

Here's a toxic fallacy that I'd like to see dismantled: that genius is rare. That it must be protected at all costs. That it must be allowed to misbehave because the misbehavior is tied to genius in some fundamental way that none of us can understand because we are not geniuses. WRONG.

For every "rockstar author" or "rockstar artist" or "rockstar scientist" or "rockstar academic" there are a thousand others who are just as talented, just as transformative, just as consequential. And by ascribing godlike abilities to those who are more ordinary than we'd like to admit, we allow the person on that pedestal to become unglued from consequence and unhooked from the ties that are supposed to bind us to one another. This is a moral injury and an injury of empathy as well. So it's bad for the "rockstar". And holy hell is it bad for every person they injure. And worse, what about the "genius" of the victims? What about the dreams deferred and the paths upended because the world they've entered has decided to make itself unacceptably dangerous, unacceptably callous. A busted stair in the middle of the ascent in some young woman's career, left for no reason.

Here's what I know: genius isn't godlike or magical or even that rare. Genius is cultivated, nurtured, supported, delighted in. It happens in the context of a myriad of tiny boosts, too numerous to count and too subtle to name. It is as common as breath, and just as precious.

The reason why predatory men are lauded, protected, demurred to, is because we've told a story to ourselves that their genius is special, and have allowed ourselves to believe that the only way to become special ourselves is to bathe in its light, regardless of consequence.

Let's be done with that story. Cultivate more lights. Be the light.

And also? Let's fix that fucking stair, shall we?

#I love this thread #be the light #neil gaiman

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freakingholland · 2 months ago

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I need some fluffy Remus x f! Reader. Reader is a need-of-touch Person, plagued by the similar issues like Remus (insecurity/ anxiety, lack of self esteem, feeling of not deserving love & happiness, depression, and can be impulsive). History of bullying at school, family issues (fighting parents, mean relatives). On a very hard hitting depression day, Remus learns of her troubles, a friendship develops. Both afraid to „ruin“ it with their feelings. A deep cuddle part :)? Thank you very much!

"Let's stop pretending" - Remus Lupin x teacher!Reader

A/N: Hello! Thank you sm for this request! You didn’t specify if you want it to be older or younger Remus so I went with teacher Remus and teacher Reader – I hope you don’t mind! I loved working on this piece and I hope you’ll like it! Also this was my first time writing something so emotional so please go easy on me!

If you or anyone you know is struggling please consider seeking help. Here are some extremely helpful hotlines: 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: 988 (US) STAND! For Families Free of Violence crisis line: 888-215-5555 (US) National Domestic Abuse Helpline in the UK: 0808 2000 247 (UK) Crisis Services Canada Suicide Prevention Service: 1-833-456-4566 (Canada) Remember, you are not alone and things can get better. Virtual hugs - Tori xx

Summary: Sometimes the most influential people, the closest to one’s heart, get the worst of treatments. But true love will always shine through the toughest of times. And that’s what happened with Remus and his partner. (emotional hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, romance)

Warnings: not proofread! descriptions of low self esteem, depressive mood, descriptions of anxiety and worries, heartfelt confessions, teacher x teacher relationship.

Word count: 1.7K +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist

my AO3 archive is here

Sweaty, breathless. With a knot painfully tightening in your stomach. With an unrested mind, thoughts colliding with one another and blurring together. Was it the weight of your new function? Was it the memories of your own school years? The taunts, the whispers, the isolation - all of it suddenly felt too close, like it had never really left. But you shook your head, forcing yourself to breathe. In and out.

You were safe now—or so you told yourself. On the other side. Teaching, not being taught.

A bottle of water, your beloved quill, some chocolate, books. You nervously clutched your most needed belongings with trembling hands. You hurriedly skipped up the stairs towards your newly assigned classroom keeping your things close to your torso.

As you were approaching the top of the staircase you were greeted with a small smile from a man walking downstairs. One that you couldn’t help but return despite the tightness in your chest. A fellow professor – judging by the look of his robe. He was wearing a sweater that at first sight seemed just as soft as his gaze. His soft facial expression and scent briefly shook you from your overwhelming thoughts.

“Good morning.” he said calmly. You stopped in your tracks.

“I feel like we know each other,” you said hesitantly, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

He nodded gently, with a spark of recognition behind his ocean blue eyes.

“Hmmm we do… it’s been so long. Good to see a familiar face. Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“It really has been. Nice to see you too,” you replied, a weird sense of relief creeping in.

Remus Lupin. Of course you remembered him. He had been a well-seasoned fifth year student by the time you had started your first term at Hogwarts. Though you’d never really spoken directly, you were aware of him. Your paths crossed briefly when you were a prefect for Ravenclaw at a time of his own prefect duties for Gryffindor.

You loved being a prefect, it had been a rare reprieve. It gave you an excuse to roam around the castle, to lose yourself in the beauty of it. While many younglings found the darkness of Hogwarts unsettling, to you it was a genuine comfort, a place where you could gather your racing thoughts in peace.

“I’m sure we will see each other more often. My class is just around the corner. If you need anything dear you know where to find me.” He tilted his head in the direction of the stairs.

“Now if you’ll excuse me ma’am! I have to sign some documents at Mrs. McGonagall’s office. We shall see each other later?”

“Certainly. See you later Remus.”

It was hard not to admit that his warm welcome caught you off guard. What surprised you was that, despite having barely interacted in the past, he seemed to hold some sense of fondness towards you. Regardless, his gesture was undeniably kind.

You and Professor Burbage sat side by side, your mugs of coffee warming your hands as you exchanged stories about the last week’s antics from your lessons.

“…and then he- “you began, only to be interrupted by a familiar warmth on your shoulder.

“And who is that?” a familiar voice teased from behind.

Remus peeked between you and Professor Burbage with his very own cup of coffee.

“Good evening, Remmy. Please have a seat!”

“May I?” he asked without really waiting for an answer before pulling up a chair.

As Remus sat down, his knee brushed yours briefly under the table.

“You’re like two peas in a pod these days,” Burbage commented, her eyes darting between you with a knowing grin.

“What can I say dear Charity…?” Remus began, his tone mockingly serious.

“You have to have somebody to complain to when you’re marking awfully written papers.” You finished for him.

“Exactly. Out of respect for our sanity, of course.”

“Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days?” she asked.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but his smirk gave him away. “Yes, that’s precisely what we’re calling it. Survival through shared suffering.”

“Mhmm, shared suffering,” Charity said under her breath before taking a long sip of her coffee. She glanced at her watch.

“Well well I’d love to banter with you for a little longer but some of us have lessons to prepare for. Good night,” she said, slowly rising from her seat. She gently smoothed out her robe.

“Goodnight, Charity,” you said, trying to ignore the subtle heat spreading through your cheeks.

You were moving rice from one edge of your plate to another, trying to make it vanish with your sight.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Remus said, breaking the silence.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “It’s nothing, just tired.” He gave you an attentive look and nodded slowly.

“Dearie if you need to talk, you know I’m here,” he said gently.

„I know, thank you…”

Your rational side begged you to stop, to bury the feelings before they ruined what you had. But your heart had other ideas. It kept slowly but surely tearing you apart with unrelenting tension, increasing with every single one of Remus’ gestures, remarks.

His hand had barely brushed against yours, and it was enough to fuel the ache in your chest. You wanted to lean into the warmth he offered, wanted to let the comfort of his company wrap around you like a blanket, but you simply couldn’t.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you. You needed to leave. Needed some space.

“I... I must…go set up the classroom.” You said firmly getting up from your warmed up seat.

As you stepped into the hallway the cold air hit your face, making you more focused on your breathing. The feeling was sort of like the one on your first day teaching. Except this time you were walking away from him, the one person who had brought you so much comfort. With each step, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were letting something so important slip right through your fingers.

You slammed the door behind you, taking out your anger on the object. You couldn’t help but cry it all out. You slid down to the floor and buried your face between your knees.

Remus couldn’t stand it any longer. He set down his mug with a thud and followed you.

He hesitated for a moment, but the instinct to check on you was stronger than the quiet voice in his head telling him to stay away. Gently pushing the door open, he found you, sitting on the cold stone floor next to it.

He sat down beside you without a word. The silence was growing thicker if that was even possible.

“I don’t deserve this Y/N…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“You are right…you don’t deserve such treatment, “ you whispered back.

“I... I don’t know what’s happening anymore, Remus,” you choked out, your shoulders shaking. “Everything feels like it's falling apart, and I can’t keep pretending it’s fine.”

“That is not what I meant love.” He locked his gaze with yours, eyes glistening in the warm sunlight. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t deserve someone like you. I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I shouldn’t get close to anyone, and yet… here you are. Without even trying, you’ve become everything to me.” His voice wavered.

“You’ve brought light into places I thought would stay dark forever.”

“I’ve hidden from who I really am… from what I’ve been through. I convinced myself that I wasn’t worthy of any of the good things, especially not you.” His words made your chest tighten.

“But you are worthy, Remus. You’re the most caring person I know. I wouldn’t have survived being here if it wasn’t for your constant support. I owe you the beginning of this chapter of my life.”

He looked down, his voice quiet as he murmured, “I don’t know how to accept that. I don’t know how to feel like I’m enough for you.”

“Please don’t say that.”

“I have to be honest with you, Remus. I don’t know how to just be your friend anymore. I’ve tried, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel the way I do.” Your voice cracked, and you turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I never thought… I never dared to believe you could feel the same,”

“I’ve spent so much time telling myself you were out of reach,” he continued.

He paused, his hand hovering uncertainly before finally brushing gently against your cheek, as if afraid you might pull away. “I need to say this, Y/N. It’s been eating at me for weeks now, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You turned to face him. More tears welled up in your eyes. But this time they were happy tears.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you, wrapping your arms tightly around him. His embrace was immediate.

“I’ve tried to ignore it... but the more I’m with you, the more it’s hard to deny. I love you too,” you murmured into his chest, your voice muffled. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

As he held you close, the world felt like it had finally righted itself.

You soaked in the relief. And the warmth that seemed like it was completely out of your reach just seconds ago.

You stayed intertwined for a while, slowly digesting the good and the bad. Giving yourself space to let everything sink in.

But then, as the two of you sat there in silence for a while, Remus shifted slightly and let out a soft chuckle.

“You know,”

“as romantic as this moment is, my buttocks are absolutely freezing.” You couldn’t help but laugh through the remains of your tears.

“Oh, so now you’re saying my breakdown spot isn’t up to your standards?” you teased, pulling back just enough to see his face, which was now decorated with a playful smirk.

“I’m just saying, if we’re going to spend the night clinging to each other and crying some more maybe we could do it somewhere else. My butt’s about to become part of the stonework here… have some mercy for an old man.”

“I will as long as I am allowed to call you my old man.”

“I suppose I could let you get away with that... but only because I’m feeling generous.” Remus grinned, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Thank you for reading! Stay whelmed xx

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caswithdasas2021 · 12 days ago

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There is something so dear to me about supernatural. I started watching it around 14. I had moved out of my mom's house into my grandparents, my older brother up and left not telling us anything and I was figuring out my identity as a Pansexaul person in a woman's body who wasn't quite sure of she was a she (I am.) And watching a show about two brothers who loved each other no matter what dealing with the after affects of neglect an abuse while driving a cool car and being in general cool, soothed a part of my heart. I got to season 4 pretty quickly and seeing dean and cas fall in love was the most beautiful thing I've seen. As I aged I tried to catch up but something always prevented me from finishing until it ended in 2020 and I was heart broken. The first 3 seasons have such a comfort to me because it's like having my brother back if only for a moment. It's watching two siblings reunite as adults and work through their problems. It's about an older brother helping his younger over come addiction. It's about found faimly and finding your own idea on what's right. I love supernatural and I know it's not perfect but it's like my favorite blanket, or stuffed animal. It's worn and broken but it's mine.

#supernatural #destiel #spn #misha collins #dean winchester

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max1461 · 10 months ago

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This has mostly disappeared from my corner of the internet over the last few years, but it used to be the case that every once in a while some story would go around about a corporation or a government doing some fucked up shit in pursuit of their self-interest, and people in the comments and reblogs would act utterly aghast that said government or corporation would do such a thing.

This was always baffling to me, and I have only ever been able to interpret it as a sign of profound naivety. Of course, I too think it is awful, sad, and unjust when people are exploited, killed, abused or so on by the institutions of our society. But "aghastness" is not synonymous with these things, to be aghast is to be (or present yourself as) in some sense surprised. And surprise is wholly unwarranted here.

I suppose this is part of my worldview that feels very fundamental, it feels deeply obvious, and I struggle to figure out how to talk productively with people who did not get the memo: exploitation and abuse of others in pursuit of self-interest is in some sense the natural behavior of agents in any kind of competitive context. It requires a lot of effort and coordination to mitigate this behavior. We do not feel "aghast" when someone is bitten by a dog. Dogs bite people, idiot! And corporations exploit their workers, lie, cheat, and steal, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. And governments exploit and neglect their citizens, and go to war and kill and maim, unless you work very hard to prevent them from doing so. Individual humans, as members of a social species for which cooperation is paramount to survival, have quite a lot of specific programming whose purpose seems to be to discourage us from doing these things (empathy, loyalty, etc. etc.), and yet very often we still do them!

I have relatives who have a hard time believing in US atrocities abroad, on the grounds that "Americans are the good guys, and the US just wouldn't do that". This is very stupid! Do you think the US got where it is today without cracking some eggs? Bullshit. There's never been a government or a military in the history of humanity that "just wouldn't do that". I sometimes see posts on here from tankies, defending Chinese or Soviet atrocities on the grounds that these things must be Western propaganda, a socialist government just wouldn't do that. Again, I find this so obviously false as to be essentially beneath engaging with. We don't live in a just world! Often, a very effective strategy for achieving whatever it is you're trying to achieve will involve treating people like shit. It is what it is.

I'm not trying to play defense for injustice here. Obviously I think we should do as much as we can to prevent these abuses. But I think that doing so must start with basic recognition of the following: it is the nature of institutions—being as competition between them is essentially unavoidable, and being as their decision processes are unavoidably removed from the face-to-face social context which is so load-bearing in motivating respectful treatment between individual humans—to abuse people in pursuit of their (perceived) self-interest. This behavior is mundane and expected. It can be mitigated in various ways, ideological and structural, but it will probably always be with us to some degree. To look at it and express shock in any capacity suggests a completely misguided understanding of how the world works.

This is the first and most important thing I ever learned about politics or society.

#society

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nekochan-9 · 9 months ago

Text

Yan!Samurai X Maid!Reader

Context: This is the part three. Here's the part two → Part Two

Content Warning:- 18+++ Contains some Yan themes and *coughs* Pervy themes as well

Synopsis: you are assigned to the Samurai general Nereus as, his personal maid during a war after he killed his previous maid. You are supposed to tend to his every needs even those of sexual ones since he is a general who's leading the war and unmarried.

━─━────༺ - ༻────━─━

Nereus X Y/N

★ Nereus walked to the pond with his erection,where you were supposedly taking a bath alone.He can't wait,he can't wait to see you as yourself. You have always hidden your beautiful body by layers of clothing. While other personal maids were seducing their masters for their own selfish reason,here you were, hiding his body from him.

★ He stopped as he heard the sound of water splashing. It was past evening and darkness has already started spreading everywhere. Nereus paced towards the pond. Green Forest surrounded the pond area hiding it from the outside.

★ He hid behind a huge old tree and looked towards the pond. He saw your clothes and dim lit lamb. But you were nowhere to be seen. He searched you around with his eyes until he saw swimming in the pond. All naked

★ His hand traveled to his abdomen and parted the robe and grabbed his thick and veiny cock. He gave it a tight squeeze and gazed at you,you were done swimming and now cleaning yourself with the herbs.

★ He leaned on the tree with his left forearm while he groped his own cock and pumbed it. Pre-cum oozing out of his dick,as he bit his lip to prevent the urge to moan.

★ Y/N was done with cleaning her body and she was bathing herself again. Nereus thought to himself - One day we will bath in the hot spring in my home together and you will be under me,gazing up at me with your teary eyes begging me to let you cum as I pushed my fingers in and out of your pussy.

★ He imagined,what could be her favorite position? Standing? Or doggy style? Or maybe I should just rut into her as a feral beast does. Wouldn't she enjoy it?

★ In his fantasies,he had you under him,in the mating press. Your legs on his shoulder while your pulsating pussy was being abused by his throbbing dick. He will pound himself deep into you while his cum paints your walls white. Every time he pulls out, the cum would immediately pool out from your hole only to be pushed in with his dick again. yes, he will fuck you till the sun rises if you want.

★ He looked at you,and you were done bathing. And what are you doing?? Y/N was looking at her tits with a frown,she then raised her hand and palmed both her bust and muttered “ They do feel uncomfortable sometimes ”

★ Nereus pumped faster,his pupil dilating. Are you going to give him a show?? Oh then just bent down just like that,all naked. And show me your pretty pussy. Your busts were probably larger than your palms. Nereus slightly parted his mouth and imagined his mouth on those brownish nipples of yours. He swirled his tongue inside his mouth as if he's playing with your nipples.

★ And then you came out of the water, unaware of his presence. Your naked body in his sight. It awakened something feral in him. He saw your hairy pussy and just wanted to pounce on you and fuck you till your pretty little cunt is full of his cum.

★ His body shivered and his hips jolted thick streams of cum burst out of him. He fell on his knees. The impact was too much. Seeing you naked for the first time and being able to get himself off of it.

★ He partially laid on the mat of grass,his knees bent in pleasure and his right hand pushing out the remaining cum.

He wonder,what you will do if you see him like this?? Would you run away ?? Or would you help him with it ???

━─━────༺ - ༻────━─━

It's my first time writing smut so please bare with the flaws. Also follow me if you want to read more 🥰🥰

This is the 3rd Headcanon out of the 7. I'm planning on writing another Headcanons from July.

#y/n #headcanon #jjk smut #jjk x you #maid!reader #male yandere x reader #master x maid #yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yande.re #yandere x you #love #y/n x character #yancore

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azelmaandeponine · 1 month ago

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I saw a interpretation of Filbrick that is kind strange and I want your opinion:

"I consider him a man of extreme tough love and concerned with making money in order to provide for his family, and those are thoughts I subscribe to as canon interpretation as well.

I don’t view him as abusive like a majority of the fandom seems to from what I’ve perused on him.

At least he’s not intentionally.

His actions in some instances can be viewed as such especially from a modern light, but they’re never from a place of maliciousness or hate. They come from a place of love and worry, in a time where being emotionally vulnerable (having heart to hearts and being frank with feelings) for a man is not only looked down upon, but can be detrimental to overall success and survival. So he’s ’not easily impressed’ and closed off. Gets angry when something valued gets lost rather than being sad or hurt by it because it’s easier and safer. (there’s a reason why he never got rid of the ‘#1 Dad’ marking on his pendant that Stan had given him - that hit him where it counted and he cherished it).

Tough love was an extreme back then, and making your kid stand outside for two days holding a sign saying 'extra stan 2$' is certainly not the best way to go about motivating your son to do better in school Filbrick.

Has a very ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ mentality because he knows no one else in the world will give exception to his sons having a heart and being sensitive. He’s the only one who they can afford to make mistakes with and learn from before the world gets its claws in them. He’s very loyal and doesn’t take kindly to people trying to harm his family… even said family. (why he insisted on boxing lessons, is part of a holy mackerel brotherhood, and why he even reacted as he did when learning about Stan and the project - he honestly believed that Stan had betrayed the family and sabotaged his brother because Stan has always been known for lying even as a kid [aka the pendent incident], it was an assumption that Ford didn’t correct him on and probably could have changed the whole outcome of if he hadn’t been devastated with the same feelings of betrayal).

Throwing Stan out in canon while in anger, was awful, I won't forgive that, but it did happen a lot back then especially at 17-18 when kids were both 'considered' or officially adults, and could go off on their own. You can still see that kinda thought process even nowadays in older folks to prevent 'mooching' or 'being a bum'.

I personally believe he’s just a man of his time and of his circumstances. Can come across heartless but does have a huge one just hidden away. I like to think he didn’t go to Stan’s ‘funeral’ because he still felt betrayed, yes (how could his kid do that to his own brother and force them to live in poverty and slog through life like that out of jealousy?), but that he didn’t go because he just couldn’t handle it. He would’ve been too broken and vulnerable about it. Or that… maybe he was dead by that time.

There’s literally no way anyone can convince me that Filbrick didn’t sit alone staring at that ‘#1 Dad’ pendant in the dark of his room without tears on his face.

Unless you’re Alex Hirsch, then I beg you not to break my heart like that lol"

What do you think?

I'm sorry, they lost me at "I don't view him as abusive". It's literally canon he is.

As for the rest...does this person know abusers can be multifaceted? That there are usually calmer moments in the abuse? Cause I don't think they know that.

All in all, it seems like this person doesn't know much about abuse, and can't fathom that a parent could be horrifically abusive to their kids because he was shown being fond of a gift one of his kids gave him.

#anon #answers #gravity falls #abuse tw #abuse apologism #fandumb #this is a filbrick pines hate blog #pines family #stan pines #stanley pines #grunkle stan

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nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj · 10 months ago

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Looong rant about chapter 16 Ptolemy's Gate and how being passive can add to the cycle of ab*se.

oof so I just read when Nat goes to see Ms Lutyens and I can't help but be absolutely furious at her??

I know that's maybe a little bit unfair given she's frightened of him as a magician and is obviously angry when she finds out the department he's responsible for, but honestly it kinda brings up the problem with inadvertent bystanders to child ab*se in my mind.

And I'm definitely not blaming her solely for who Nat becomes but it makes me think of all those people in huge child ab*se cases who give interviews to press about all the things they noticed that were wrong but they just...never do anything?

She stood up for him against Lovelace, and when Nat thanked her- "I wanted to say that I know you were trying to save me, and-"

''Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't" Like girl be for real did you really think that alone would undo the years of indoctrination and abuse he's already suffered and prevent years worth of the same in the years to come? And she won't take responsibility - "My job is with children, not the adults they become" and again while it seems harsh to blame her for who Nat becomes, it's so much easier to pass the blame to people who are more directly responsible rather than acknowledging you also play a part.

I think it hurts so much more because it's her specifically- Nat goes to her in sheer desperation, it almost seems like a goodbye- he wants to thank her, tries to set her up in a job that will pay well and struggles to communicate he's trying to help. At this point he thinks Bartimaeus has been summoned by another magician and his birth name will be revealed. He's sure he's about to die and if not he'll be stood on trial and lose everything.

He goes to her because she represents the peaceful moments from his childhood when he got away from his master. He's scared and feeling lost and really it's call for help; but he doesn't ask for anything he just wants to make her feel proud of him- he's looking for that validation that he's been chasing since childhood.

And that shows he still does have that little bit of childhood innocence in him; he thinks she will be proud, thinks she'll see him as the same little boy in the garden gazing up at his teacher in adoration. He can't quite grasp why she's separated the man stood before her from that little boy. Because in that moment the child inside Nathaniel is seeking comfort AND THAT'S WHY it makes me so angry. She's completely given up on him when he's at his lowest ebb, because she doesn't want to be associated with the magician he's become. As if it isn't a massive step in the right direction that he saught her out in the first place- what other magican would bother? I wonder if that's why she reacted so strongly to seeing him again? Before that moment she could go about her life wondering if /pretending her attempt to protect him was enough, and now she realises it wasn't, of course it wasn't, and the image she had of Nathaniel's childhood innocence is completely ruined in her mind.

Or was her contempt for him even grater than Nat realised? She was naturally disgusted by the rhetoric he'd started to repeat from a young age, and gently tried to correct him although she was clearly angry- was she just resigned to the fact that there is little else she could do to change his future? I always thought- couldn't she have looked for him? The Underwood house fire was in the papers and they mentioned the apprentice was being searched for. Did she ever worry about him? Surely something must have been in the papers since- an announcement of new ministers, ANYTHING! Look at how much research Kitty did to find out about Bartimaeus and Ptolemy. I just don't think Rosanna Lutyens cared enough, realistically Nathaniel wasn't hard to find- but he was no longer her responsibility so she could turn a blind eye.

And sadly it's not just her- I know everyone loves Martha Underwood including Nat; but I think her submissiveness to her husband has a negative effect on Nathaniel as well. In AOS when Nat is locked in his room for ages after setting the mites loose, and is forbidden to have any contact with anyone and she won't talk with him. I know she's been told by Mr. Underwood she can't, but it still boils my blood. She's an adult and going along with ignoring Nathaniel because her husband told her to...I can't even begin to imagine the psychological damage that would do to a 10 year old child. (It could be argued she's frightened of the consequences if her husband finds out she's disobeyed him which is fair, he could always be watching through magic- but this is Arthur Underwood we're talking about. He's lazy, oblivious and weak I doubt he'd expend all that energy each day to check up on her.)

And It's even more painful that Nathaniel is often described as fiercely loyal to her and I think to Ms Lutyens as well- he doesn't expect to be treated well by Arthur Underwood but he loved Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens so much he started to view them through a rose-coloured lense. He never feels betrayed by either of them, even though they absolutely let him down, because the pedestal he's put them on is too high AND THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYS ME.

Would things with Nathaniel have been any different if Mrs Underwood hadn't died? I don't really think so. Do you think she'd see Nathaniel's temper at 14 years old and be reminded of Arthur Underwood? He was awful, absolutely awful to Nat and to her; but he was under so much stress in an underfunded departement, where pressure was being put on him by superiors to accomplish far more than they knew him to be capable of, and he took it out on the easiest target. Nathaniel ends up in exactly the same place and he starts to take it out on the only person around him- Bartimaeus. Would he snap at Mrs Underwood all the time if she were still there? Because he's learnt that behaviour from his father figure, and subconsciously learnt from his mother figure that she'll put up with it. He learnt from the woman he loved so deeply, that if you don't resist, people will walk all over you. So you have to maintain control even if it ends up hurting people you care about because no one will step in to stop the suffering no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want them too.

It's easy to blame Arthur Underwood and Simon Lovelace and the magicians that actively hurt Nathaniel but I just feel like it's a bit disingenuous not to acknowledge the role of those doing passive harm. It's really mean to say it but even Bartimaeus plays a role- he knows Nat is clinging on to him because he can't 'bring himself to break this last connection' (to his childhood) but instead of bringing it up properly he 'taunts' Nathaniel- a boy who has been taunted for his weakness by his master for years. And even in AOS when Nathaniel tells Bartimaeus he was beaten for the mites incident Bart just kinda shrugs it off. Like I get it, why should Bartimaeus do anything, he's suffered way worse due to the system so he doesn't owe Nat anything right? But from Nat's point of view this is the first and only time he's mentioned to anyone what has happened to him and nothing changes. It's like another lesson learnt: telling someone about it doesn't help. Another nail in the coffin.

And I like all these characters, I feel bad for them. They're all victims of the system, I think the chapter with Ms Lutyens is just the straw that broke the camel's back for me. All of those little opportunities that are insignificant to the narrative over all; the commoners have it worse, Nathaniel is in a privileged position in society, exerting control over others. He's very morally grey, crossing over into objectively bad person territory but I love him with my whole heart and all of those insignificant moments would have been massive to him whether he was conscious of it or not.

And it goes all the way back to the beginning with Nat's parents giving him up to the magicians at 5 years old. I can't get the image of that little boy sat crying all alone in the government building. And he's not going somewhere safer, or somewhere he'll be happier and more loved. Giving your child over to a total stranger, oh he'll be totally fine won't he? He'll grow up to be a magician and far richer than you'll ever be, he'll be happy and comfortable and be grateful he got to grow up in luxury. There's no way a stranger you've never met, who the majority of society is terrified of would ever hurt a vulnerable little kid right? And if they do? Well you aren't responsible anymore, how could you know? What could you possibly do against the magician taking care of him?

Every little thing is another grain of sand tipping the scale. Did anyone else have to analyse An Inspector Calls in school? It feels like that to me- those BIG moments and all the little moments in between that add onto the pile.

And it goes on to cause problems in wider society too- ab*se is so normalised to the magicians, they casually ask Underwood if he hits Nathaniel like it's nothing. Because to them it is nothing, they've all grown up in the same circumstances and are repeating what they've learnt as children. I can't help but feel a little sorry for them all, especially when they aren't looked at through the black and white lense of 'argh these people are the evil arseholes look at how they treat everyone around them, screw these guys.' When we see those little glimpses of humanity like Simon's anxiety with the amulet; looking to his master and father figure Schyler for reassurance, and what's sad is that Nat is "reminded...of his own master's cold impatience" It's clear Simon looks up to his master, wants to make him proud and loves him. But it seems like Schyler has just trained Simon up so he can get power through him later on. I love the little hints of similarities between Simon and Nathaniel; the anxious mannerisms like fiddling with his hair that Nathaniel starts to develop, the way their master's talk to them. Even though they're actively working against each other in AOS and Simon is placed firmly in the baddies category and Nat in the goodies category at this point in the series; these things always hinted to me they had similar childhoods, how was Simon treated? When he had the imp beat Nat into unconsciousness, was it because he'd had the same punishment used against him? Did he know the magicians in the room would do nothing to stop him because no one stopped it from happening to him? Did he ever have a teacher stand up for him only for it to change nothing in the end because all the negative influences were so much stronger? Is the reason he loves Schyler like a dad because he's almost developed Stockholm syndrome? It looks like love because he's never known anything else.

And Arthur Underwood- who doesn't think his upbringing, and being taken away from his family ever did him any harm- doesn't realise the harm done is that he doesn't even know another way of raising Nathaniel, because he was never shown another way. His childhood may also have been filled with people who hurt him and the people that didn't do enough to intervene.

There are so many psychology studies that show children copy everything they see the adults in their life doing. Nathaniel copies the magicians behaviour towards spirits and on a subconscious level I think he copies all the submissive people in his life. How many times does he end up upset and frustrated with the fact he seems to be going nowhere and how many times does he just hope things will be different rather than taking postive action.

I dislike the actions the magicians end up taking but I also find them fascinating to analyse. I tend to prefer villains in media because they're usually slightly more complex individuals and I love to think about how they ended up that way. They can all be seen as victims of their circumstances in a way, despite all the power and privilege they have had terrible and traumatic childhoods, and if the commoners had no valuable worldy possessions at least they had a sense of togetherness; of love and understanding and selflessness. I wonder if the magicians hated them at least partly because of that. Because out in the sea of faces of the commoners talking about nothing important, doing nothing great and noble- could be the parents that abandoned them. And when your life is on the line daily because of working with spirits, and your colleagues want to stab you in the back, sometimes not being responsible for anything important looks good. But you can't leave your life as a magician, it would be too difficult; you have nowhere to go, no real friends, no one who really loves you. So it's better to stay and be a submissive bystander in your own life because it's so much easier.

Doing nothing is doing something- being passive can be just as harmful.

#Oh boy if I was in Nat's life I'd've packed him into a box and shipped him off to therapy long ago #Listen I'm not a magician apologist per se....#But I do find playing devil's advocate for well -written baddies fun #And I am Nathaniells defence lawyer #I will not hear a word said against him #Just stressing that I do in fact like Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens I just wish they were a little stronger in sticking up for Nat #and I do hate mr Underwood #Simon lovelace tho.... I quite like him he can have a little space in the therapy box #I have a softspot for him because of the mannerisms that compare him to Nat okay???#Is it obvious I studied psychology at school 😅#Or that I am a huge Nat kinnie😅😅#Please don't hate me for this take #If anyone takes anything from this please let it be children copy everything they see you do including when you do nothing #This is quite tangential #bartseq #bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus trilogy #bartimaeus #nathaniel underwood #liveblogging

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alpaca-clouds · 5 months ago

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Utopia is always a Compromise

Someone asked me something in a private message, getting rather annoyed with my insistence that pretty much any and all conflict can happen in a Solarpunk world: "Well, what is an utopia to you?" And technically the answer is fairly simple: "An utopia is not perfect, but as good as things are going to be." And that is a claim I am going to stand by.

I spent yesterday pretty much the entire day writing a Solarpunk short story for an anthology. And that short story very much is about all that. About compromises. Because I somehow feel, that a lot of folks in the solarpunk sphere do not grasp two things about utopias:

Utopias are going to differ a lot depending on who you ask.

Because of this, any utopia is inherently political.

One person's utopia is going to be someone else's dystopia. Or to put it differently: Nazis imagine utopias too. In their utopias whole cultures have been eliminated, while a few rich white people rule over everyone else. To them this is what they imagine "the best possible world" to be.

Of course, Solarpunk inherently is a very left leaning genre and ideology. My Solarpunk utopia is anarcho-communist of course. In my Solarpunk utopia, there are no more nation states, and there are no more borders. Everyone who wants it is given room to live, and the other necessities to life: access to clean water, food, electricity, health care and education. The education system is a lot more self-directed by the students. And the electricity obviously is created by renewable ressources. Food is grown more locally. Indigenous people get their land back. All those things apply.

And yet, even my Solarpunk utopia has to deal with compromises. Because some things are always going to be a compromise.

Everyone who has been following me, knows that I am a prison and police abolitionist. And this means compromise. While I am 100% certain, that most crime can be prevented by giving people access to the ressources listed above, and allowing everyone a healthy life, some crime will still happen. People still will find reasons to argue. And in some cases arguments might result in violence, and in some extreme cases in death through violence. And some people will be more prone to that violence, for a variety of reasons. And I still think, they should not be "locked away", with maybe some extreme cases as exceptions. But all of that is always a compromise not everyone is going to agree with.

The story I wrote yesterday tackled two other topics in this regard, I have very complicated feelings about myself. Religion and mental health.

Most folks active in the solarpunk sphere are either agnostic or atheistic, or part of some more spiritual nature-related religions. And either group generally tends to have a big disdain for organized religion like Christianity or Islam. Which I - someone who has been abused for pretty much his entire youth through the means of Christianity - absolutely can understand. And yet, I do not think it would be right to overly regulate religion in a Solarpunk world. Even though a lot of those religions are very anti-anarchist in many regards, I also do not think it is the anarchist way to forbid someone else from believing in whatever feels right for them to believe. But that will undoubtedly bring further issues. Because where are you going to draw the line? No matter where you draw it, it is going to be a compromise. And some conflict will arise from it.

What if you have a religion that thinks queerness is bad? Or that thinks women belong in the kitchen? When is it okay to regulate a religion? Because you will not have political success going on and wanting to forbid the world largest religions. Trying to do that would be quite dystopian to me. You also cannot force them to completely change their doctrine, and even if you tried, they would probably still preach some of it behind closed doors. So what are you going to do? Which is the compromise you would take?

In the story I wrote, the main character was a queer guy who has grown up religious and struggled a lot with mental health issues because of it. Because he was queer and his family had been hateful towards that queerness because of their religion. Simply for the reason that controlling someone's personal believes was not right - but the family controlling that queer kid was not right either.

And mind you: We know that contrary to what atheists say, religion is not fully something people choose for themselves. There is some genetic component to religiosity. And if someone has grown up religious, you cannot just force that person to change their religion. That is absolutely akin to forcing a gay person to be straight. It is a violation of the person's rights and freedom, and will be very detrimental to their mental health.

But the mental health issue is another one that is a big topic for compromise in the anarchist way - and even in our modern democratic way.

Most progressive nations do not allow a person to be forcefully put into a psych ward, unless that person tried to commit suicide, or was outright physically violent towards another person. This is also the same bar that usually has to be cleared before someone has to be forced into therapy, and you basically cannot force anyone to take medication. But this is a compromise as well, that does harm as much as it does good.

Because even those mentally unwell people who might not be physically violent, still can very much be abusive towards others. Be it family members, partners, colleagues, roommates, friends, or themselves. And there can absolutely be an argument made that it would be better for everyone to set the bar lower before you can force someone into therapy, as they would probably even benefit themselves. Yet, we do not do that. Because technically it is everyone's personal freedom to decide, whether they want medical care or not - and because we have made the mistake in the past, of course, when a lot of people were forced into and kept under miserable conditions in psychological phacitilies. And we do not want any repeat of it.

But to come back to the story: The main character is abusive mostly towards himself - but this is obviously still harmful towards his partner and child. Nobody can force him to accept any help, after having made a bad experience in therapy before. But the status quo clearly also is not helping anyone.

And you will find those issues in a thousand of different ways. If you are anarchist, you are going to be against a lot of regulations, because those will always give some people power over other people, but where will you draw the line to regulate? Where will you allow some people to make decisions over other people?

Because in some regards this will always have to happen. And no matter how much you can argue: Every line is pretty much arbitrary. Which is why you will find some people argue for pretty every possible line you could draw in the sand. I can bring a thousand arguments for prison abolition - but the people who are for keeping prisons around, can bring a thousand arguments themselves. Sure, I think a lot of those arguments are bullshit. But they think the same about my arguments. And the big issue with those social topics is, that the science is not as firm as we wanted it to be. I will argue that there is some science clearly giving indications for prison abolition - but the prison abolition crowd such as myself does also assume a general scenario, that never has been tested in the modern world. We do not know if it would work. And I myself will openly say, that I have no fucking clue how to deal with issues like misogyny, where we have some data that suggests that once it has taken a certain hold even the best rehabilitation system will not erase it from someone's mind in about 30% of all cases. Sure, we might be able to get rid of it over the course of generations - but as an anarchist I also have to ask: "What do we do until then?" Because those misogynist men will kill and assault women.

I know it is easy to imagine that if only things were better, all human strive would end. But it simply is not the case. Partly, because some people will still struggle with one thing or another and develop bad ways of dealing with that struggle. And partly, because certain ideologies that lie at the root of so many issues cannot just be erased from the world from one day to the other. You cannot uninstall hate from someone's mind. You might through education get some people to be better - but not everyone. And this... Well, this will always create some issues.

#solarpunk #lunarpunk #utopia #dystopia #cyberpunk #utopian fiction #solarpunk fiction #religion #patriarchy #fuck the patriarchy #anarchism #atheists

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oleanderscorner · 1 year ago

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I offer you, the highest of my ideas

Yandere Twst X Overblot Yuu.

Vibes? IMMACULATE

Everyone’s like “oooh overblot twst so hooot” NO! I WANT THEM TO DO THAT. FOR ME. IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE.

fuck the calculation n’ clever shit. I want them to run onto scene and go 👀👀

(Specifically if you wanna: Dorm leaders + Leech twins + Ace + Deuce.)

I think I can do this in more of a series—but I’ll do this in this more analysis-like format…let’s start with Vil because I think he would be the most fun.

Yandere!Vil x OB!Yuu

TW: manipulative behavior, obsessing, toxic and abusive themes, self harm—YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Vil Schoenheit

I think everyone can agree that Vil is often an incredibly misrepresented character—whether or not they know or believe their own interpretation to be completely correct. There’s a lot to his character that doesn’t get represented because it’s hard to represent all of him when he’s incredibly adaptable to his surroundings…

But before we get to him any more—let’s look at Yuu.

Yuu can’t OB in canon but without magic, but a personal theory I’ve had for a long time is that Yuu will gain magic somehow—because like everything else they’re now a part of this world, and while they don’t belong “currently” after saving so many people they’re bound to become part of the world they’re living in, and gain some level of magic or be someone part of the universe who has no magic—which is a little less likely considering where Yuu is placed within this universe.

Yuu’s UM is likely to be more similar to Ruggie’s in that they likely will have some level of control over people and surroundings, however, with the ghost theme of the dorm—it’s better to assume that Yuu’s UM may be to become invisible like a ghost to help in battle same way they always kind of had in game.

An OB would likely be quick as Yuu begins to miss home and just wants to disappear and have everyone forget them—have the world forget them—so that maybe they can go home as they no longer have any remnant of themselves in the universe. Homesickness is a real thing, and if we look at some of the manga Yuus we do know that there is families back home for Yuu to go to, and possibly friends too. It can hit hard after awhile, especially if we go by the year and we don’t know how time there works—which can host so many accidents where Yuu won’t see their family again and as much as Yuu would miss their friends here—home could hit a lot worse.

When not invisible, I’d imagine them covered in cloth similar to a sheet ghost and with ink between the folds and sheets, and nearly translucent—just for the fun of a design.

Now onto the actual OB!YuuxVil

(Might switch Yuu and you because Yuu is the reader, if I say they know that means reader/Yuu)

Vil is observant—he may send Rook or Epel to spy on you or make judgements of character—but he is observant of Yuu and their actions leading up to the overblot. He wanted to prepare for it himself—and hopefully actually stop it. In most instances he would—he knows how to take preventive measures—but…this time he didn’t.

As we know from chapter 5 and his vignettes, Vil is one to get back up again after every failed attempt—and is by far the most adaptable character when it comes to needing to work with a loss. He couldn’t prevent it? Fine—it’s not like anyone else was truly helping (they were), he’ll just have to take extreme measures instead.

He locks you up so you cannot be a danger to yourself and others—likely using something to get you to a secure location (his home if he could help it—it’s incredibly reinforced, his dad and he have crazy fans I’m sure) since Ramshackle would definitely be destroyed and Pomefiore has a ridiculous amount of glass to get you hurt. He normally isn’t the kidnapping type but this situation is incredibly dire, so he has to live up to that role.

Vil struggles with identity and selfishness—he is strict and wants to keep everyone in line, and knows how to battle each person who comes his way with tact and grace to keep people in line. However this is for the betterment of others more than for simple order. This is one of the things where he has to come off as the bad guy in order for people to be better versions of themselves and be better people. He is incredibly used to this role even if he hates it and loathes everything. It’s an identity he doesn’t want but it’s one he’s always going to be stuck with, making it hard to do truly selfish things unless it contributes to his image—something he cares way more about than himself.

All of this is to say that he is certain to try and manage your overblot—and to get you out of it—even if it means he has to be the bad guy and keep you away from things. Even if it means having to use magic spray you can’t hurt yourself and others. Even if it means afterwards you hate him.

Yet there will be times where he calls you beautiful, times where he tells you that you look lovely this way—times where he just praises you. Some of it he believes, but some of it is out of what little selfishness he can manage for himself to not completely be the villain in your eyes. It’s ever so slightly manipulative, but telling him that will only make things worse.

He tries to get you to eat so at least there’s things feeding this magical energy. Some of it is laced with potions to help do just that—because he is incredibly scared that stunting it will kill you or harm you. So he wants to just make sure you don’t completely use it all up.

Vil is determined—but if anything Yuu is the best at breaking his resolve.

Constant egging on about him keeping you here, about him using his magic against you—trying to hurt him for so long. Eventually it can get to be too much—but if Yuu mixes it in with any knowledge they knew of his previous obsession for them. How he wished so dearly to make them the best version of themselves and how he wishes to be a part of the life they had here. How he kept worried eyes on them and made sure more money was slipped into their account for food. Even the jealousy he had to hide constantly around those who also showed interest, and his own plans to outdo them that he constantly overthought and looked over. Or especially how Vil had failed to prevent this overblot? Well, that might just break it.

He’d use his own curses against him to make himself better. Give himself timeframes yo complete things or if there was a certain amount of insults or hits a day something would happen. Pain in his legs—turning old for a few days—a nasty illness—whatever worked to force him to get through to the real you.

Even if he overblot once—he can overblot again—and trust me, it’ll be far worse than it ever was before.

This is a quick take! I’d love to do a full in depth analysis of Vil and how I perceive him, and what I think so many people shove onto him that’s completely unfair of them to do—but I truly hope this does him justice. I’ll probably get to the other dorm leaders and maybe more soon depending on how I feel about an OB Yuu.

Thank you for reading!!

#yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere Vil #yandere vil x reader #vil schoenheit #twst #twisted wonderland

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bernardsbendystraws · 10 months ago

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𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎ mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

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Chapter 15: Remedies Of Honey

My brain was scattered. No thought was coherent enough to put into words as I laid deathly still in bed, technically, my own bed.

Ironically enough, it didn’t feel like my room. Even though Laura and Madi had helped me move in my things to the simple bedroom, it didn’t feel like it was mine. It felt like a hotel. Matt’s room was the scene that came in my mind as I thought of ‘my’ room.

Matt.

His name echoed in the walls of my head with utter confusion. He wasn’t a liar. The only time he had ever lied was to protect me. I watched him time and time again be the sweetest person to everyone around him, always supporting those he cared about.

I thought I was one of those people. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

With my dad, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t surprising either. He had never shown me that he cared. He had never tried to care.

Matt was different.

Matt clouded the air around me with a sickening sweetness that I had become accustomed to. The subtle lingering touches that he littered on my body constantly felt like a breath of relief. So natural and easy, yet something I had never even dreamed of having in my life.

Love scared me. I didn’t know anything about it. With Matt, I didn’t used to be scared, but with every rustle of the branches outside my window, time seemed to take its toll as my thoughts seeped in with unanswerable questions.

Why would he not tell me?

What else was he not telling me?

My phone screen had replayed the same video a multitude of times I zoned out. A message popping down from the top of my screen brought my attention back to reality.

[From Matt: Hey, everything okay? Nick told me you’ve sent him like 30 TikToks, why aren’t you asleep?]

My fingers stay frozen in place as I watch the notification disappear. Was this all just out of pity? Was this his escape?

Did he ever even want me?

[From Matt: I’m coming over to pick you up. Meet me outside in five?]

I huff at the message, pulling open the chat. My fingers hesitate over the electronic keyboard.

[To Matt: Why?]

[From Matt: Please. Nick and Madi were texting and he told me what happened. It’s not what you think.]

[To Matt: Okay]

I reluctantly pull the covers off of my body, stepping out to the cool air in the simple t-shirt and sweats. Both Matt’s.

Had I really let him consume every inch of me already?

I flatten the material of the wrinkled shirt while stepping out of the room. Quietly, I make my way down the stairs. I patter towards the front door, grasping my keychain tightly to prevent the metal jingling.

I pull the door open ajar, stopping at the squeal of the wind rushing through the void. My eyes peer through the crack, Matt’s flushed cheeks puffing with heaving breaths of air.

I squeeze through the door, shutting and locking it behind me as I listen to Matt’s breathless huffs. As I turn around, he reaches out a hand. My hands stay trained at my sides as I glance down at the open palm.

“Please,” he says with a pleading tone. “---I can explain. Please, just…just trust me.” he finishes.

Nodding slowly, I put my hand in his. His fingers clasp around almost instantaneously in a secure, gentle manner. “Where are we going?” I ask.

He shakes his head, pulling me behind his stride between the two houses and into his backyard. “Just…trust me, okay?” he says.

Squeezing my hand in his, our pace quickens down the dirt path. “Okay.” I say quietly.

The light posts fade into the distance from the street, leaving only moonlight. Step after step, the lake comes into view. The shining reflection of the night sky makes my eyes wander over the water.

Matt reaches over to the tree, grabbing the picnic blanket that had been slung between the oak branches. He drops my hand, flicking out the large square of fabric. The blanket lands, covering the section of grass with the blue checkered pattern of material.

He sits down on the blanket, pulling his knees up to his chest and crossing his arms over his knees. He looks up at me, the silver moon dancing in his irises. I melt under his gaze. My knees buckle as I land softly next to him. I mimic his position.

My eyes glance back towards the water, my head urging me to lean on to his shoulder. The tired ambiance of my brain lets my subconscious fall to action. I let my neck relax, my temple resting lightly on his shoulder.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I feel one of his hands wrap around, cradling my head. How could I not trust him?

The secret weighing down on me had felt so heavy alone in my bed, but it didn’t anymore. Not here with him. The doubts seeped through the cracks of my mind like water. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

His shoulder rises and falls with a hefty breath beneath my head. “I was going to. I really was, I just—I didn’t know how. I tried, I really did, I swear. But…” he trails off. I feel the comforting weight of his head fall gently on top of mine.

“But?” I urge.

“I didn’t know how and I could never find the right time. I was first gonna tell you after my hockey game. The one, well, the one where, you know…” he airy words seep through the breeze.

“Then,” he rubs the side of my head with his hand briefly. “--everything just kept going wrong. It hurt to see you crying every night, I couldn’t put more on your plate.” he says.

My heart softens at his words. He was doing it for me, not to me. His intentions were as pure as his soul. My muscles fall more relaxed against him with the comforting aura of his affirmation.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve–” I bring my head off his shoulder. His eyes gleam into mine with a somber gaze. I reach out my hand, caressing the underside of his cheek. I look between both of his eyes with a soft smile displayed on my face, watching the wrinkles relax between his eyebrows.

“It’s okay, Matt. I trust you. I understand.” The truth leaves my lips as I watch his teeth peek out from his curled lips. As we look into each other’s eyes, I find myself unable to take my eyes off of his.

I see his eyes travel down to my lips, darting quickly back up to my eyes. I lean into him, letting my eyes close. Anticipation floods my system as I feel his breath fan across my lips.

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of my neck and gently pulling me towards him. Our lips meet with a soft kiss, the warmth of his mouth seeping onto mine. I feel the tip of his nose graze my cheek as he pours passion from his lips with each movement.

I put my hand onto his shoulder. My head tilts upward, chasing his lips with a soft and slow energy. He matches my rhythm, my stomach fluttering from the sensual lingering movements. My lungs begin to scream for air. I find myself unable to pull away, chasing the delicate beckoning of his lips calling my own.

A soft smack echoes through the withering wind. He leans his head down, his forehead resting against mine. Our breaths combine with breathless gasps of air. The lack of air makes my mind even hazier, intensifying the feeling from the intoxicating passion from his lips.

“I…I bought you a ticket to come with us to LA for spring–” he says. I let out a soft laugh, interrupting him.

“I know, Madi told me. You’re insane. I can’t believe you bought me a plane ticket.” I exclaim softly. His eyes look into mine through the short distance. I notice every detail that the moonlight highlights. The pale color of his blue eyes is like ice, but looking at the hue of color makes me feel nothing but warm.

He smiles at me. My cheeks ache from the extraneous use of the muscle, my lips still pulsating from the kiss. “I don’t wanna pressure you, I…I just want you to see what life could be like out there…with me.” he says.

He doesn’t want to leave me. He wants to leave with me.

I bite down on the soft flesh of the inside of my cheek, fighting back an award winning grin. My stomach swirls with excitement and a feeling of extreme care towards the soft man sitting in front of me.

“I’d love to.” I express. I see his lips curve downward, an upside down smile forming with resistance. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, the movement moving my own head in the slightest against his.

He looks back up at me through his eyelashes, a sight I immediately try to engrave in my memory. “I’d really love to.” I emphasize. He sucks his lips between his teeth before scrunching his nose with a smile.

“There’s no pressure though, okay? Even if you don’t come–” his smile falters at the thought. “--I’m still coming back to visit all the time. I want you to do whatever makes you happy, no matter what–I’ll visit you.” he finishes.

What makes me happy?

He makes me happy, Madi makes me happy, his family makes me happy, but what else?

“Hey,” he squeezes on my shoulder. I snapped my eyes back at him, realizing I had spaced out with the taunting thoughts. “--what are you pouting about?” he asks.

“I…” my mind wanders back and forth. He brings his hand up, caressing my hair behind my ear and bringing my attention back to his eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do, Matt. I’ve always been so worried about everything else…I just, I don’t know.” I sigh.

“I don’t even know my favorite things.” I mutter out with disappointment. The sinking weight clambers down on my chest as I feel the warmth of his forehead against mine dissipate. I lean back from him, my eyes trained on the blue checkered material between my hands resting on the blanket.

His fingers loop beneath my chin, pulling my head upwards. He looks in my eyes with a sparkle of moonlight reflecting in his pupils as they dilate. “You do.” he says. I shake my head reluctantly with a slight frown.

I go to object, my lips parting. “You do.” he repeats. I look up at him as my head tilts to the side, leaning with a huff. “Come on…you do, I know you do.” I give him a small tug of my lips, shrugging my shoulders.

He shakes his head, “You know so much. You do, I promise. I mean…you’re so…you. You love root beer, you love chocolate chip pancakes, hot chocolate, and the shortbread chocolate cookies–damn, you really do love chocolate.” he laughs.

He caresses his hand on the bottom of my jaw, biting his lower lip with a smile. “You also love coloring, old disney movies, club penguin, stuffed animals, and—how could I forget, McDonalds ice cream.” he says.

A smile pulls on my lips as I prod my tongue in the side of my mouth. Each piece of information spills into my brain as I curate the list in my imagination. He was right, but more than that—he was sweet.

Matt had always been very sweet. Honey and sugar envied him. Not even the sweetest candy could compare to the sickening sugar that coated his lips from his words. His soul oozed an aura of comforting sap, something that should make a person sick from indulging too much, but I couldn’t get enough of it.

To swim in his honey pool felt like a magical remedy healing every wound, even the scars so deep in my soul that I had forgotten they were there. I wasn't scared of getting hurt. The pond of his heart puddled in front my eyes, cushioning every cautious step into places my mind labeled as danger.

“I know you. I know you enough to know that you know yourself. Give yourself some credit.” he says. I soothe the fabric of the blanket under my fingers, the thin material allowing me to feel the pillowy grass beneath it.

“You seem to know a lot. I didn’t know you paid that much attention…I really appreciate it.” I express in a soft whisper.

“I could go on for hours.” he teases.

I squinted my eyes at him with a cock of my eyebrow, challenging him. “Really?” I question. He gives me a curt nod.

“Mhm. You say your favorite animal is a penguin, but it’s really a moose. You’ve always wanted a pet. Hmm…what else? Oh–you love gardening, you want your own greenhouse one day….” he trails off as I look at him with nothing but adoration.

His parted lips fall closed as his smile beams at me. “It’s hard to think when you’re looking at me like that.” he points out. I let out a soft laugh, shoving my shoulder into his playfully.

Balancing my weight on my palms, I lean forward, gently pressing my lips on his cheek. The skin flourishes with a red hue under the pale moon, the tint traveling up to his ears.

“You missed one thing.” I point out. He looks over at me swiftly. I pull up my hand, shifting the messy brown locks out of his face. My hand falls to his shoulder as he looks at me curiously.

“You are definitely on my list of favorites,” his smile grows with his teeth peeking out from his lips.

“Really?” he says. His eyes squint at me. I nod my head affirmatively.

“Mhm,” I lean, letting my head rest back onto his shoulder.

As I let my body relax into his body warmth, my mind eases completely into the moment. I feel his head resting on top of mine, the grass tickling my fingers from poking through the blanket, and the night breeze blowing with a soft wind.

“You are my favorite.” he whispers from above me. I hum, nuzzling my head further into his shoulder as the smile becomes bigger onto my face. The smile that had never even left.

As the night grew colder, Matt’s worry for me getting sick did too. I hadn’t wanted the moment to end, and it still hadn’t. Our bodies laid tangled together under his pillowy comforter, our body heat radiating with a perfect warmth.

My face presses against the bare skin of his chest, his tattooed arm thrown behind me and pulling me closer to him. He hums, hugging me tighter as I let out a soft giggle.

“What are you doing?” I ask. His playful eyes glance down at me with a soft smile.

“--’m just want you closer.” he mumbles. I pull myself up by placing a hand on his shoulder. I lay my head on the pillow, my face inches from his. I feel his arm underneath the pillow curl upward, his hand tangling in my hair.

“Like this?” I ask. He hums, leaning forward and nudging his nose on mine. The sigh escapes his lips, the warm air brushing along my cheeks. My eyes wander down to his lips, his tongue darting across deliciously, the moonlight seeping in reflecting on the now wet surface.

I feel myself leaning forward before I can stop myself. The taste of his minty lips hit mine, the cooling sensation of the leftover toothpaste being drowned out by the heat of our lips together. His tongue prods at my lower lip before slipping into my mouth.

The added aggression of his actions makes my stomach churn with desire, his hand latching tightly into my hair mindlessly with a gentle grip. A soft moan escapes my mouth. His fingers grab securely onto my waist, kneading the flesh with greed.

“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips. The word barely pauses his desperate movements for a second before he’s hungrily pouring his devotion, kisses being littered along my jaw and down my neck.

The lower his lips trail, the more my front mindlessly arches further into him. The wet saliva makes my skin form goosebumps with the cool air brushing against the damp spots.

As Matt’s lips arrive at the hem of his shirt on me, his eyes flicker up to me with a questioning look and a lust filled haze. “Can I take this off?” he asks. I nod, partially sitting up and throwing the shirt to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear.

The cold air barely touches my skin before Matt has his hands wrapped around me. He engulfs me in a hungry embrace, my skin tingling from his lips and tongue traveling on the top of my bare chest.

A rough shriek escapes my lips as I feel his teeth clamp down lightly on the skin of my breast, a suction from his mouth and the skin making the blood rush to my cheeks as my hands dart to his hair.

“Matt.” I whisper out breathlessly.

The single word escaping my lips results in his lips becoming more messy on my skin. His mouth envelopes around the peak of my breast, his teeth lightly grazing the bud of sensitivity. The sensation shoots straight down to my core as my hips move against his thigh mindlessly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he lets out, pulling his lips away. “I don’t wanna rush things. I wanted tonight to just be sweet and—fuck, I can’t help it around you. I’m sorry, I–”

I don’t let him finish. The pulsing between my legs clouds my mind as carnal desires guide my movements. I push him to the bed, straddling over his bare stomach. I lean down, placing my lips back onto his. His hands immediately grab onto my hips, clenching the flesh in his hands.

Our lips part as I kiss down his neck. He swallows thickly as I kiss the flesh gently, letting my teeth graze the skin. A breathy exhale leaves his mouth as I let my hands wander down to his lower stomach as I scoot back on his lap. I let out a whimper at the bulge prodding between my legs, my hips stuttering over his dick beneath me, begging to feel more.

I resist the urge as I bring my lips off of his skin, bringing my head upwards as my hands trace his snail trail with the tips of my fingernails. I watch as he sucks in a breath, his eyes screwed shut as his head throws back into the pillow with parted lips.

I let my finger loop beneath his sweats teasingly. He grabs my wrist with one hand, the other cupping around the back of my neck. Our lips meet messily, his mouth parting with a breathless heaving as I let my touch teasingly linger over the waistline of his pants.

“Can I–” “Please.” he cuts off, not letting me finish.

The desperation in his voice fills me with confidence as I smirk, pressing my lips back to his chest that rises and falls with heavy breaths. I take my time, swirling in back and forth patterns with my hand on his lower stomach as it clenches and twists beneath me.

My movements are halted by him latching back onto my wrist. I look up, seeing his glazed eyes looking down at me. “Please, fuck–I need–yes, oh my god.” he breathes out as I cup over his bulge.

He moves his hips up, grinding into my hand as I palm him through his sweats. I watch as his head snaps back into the pillow, a quiet, broken grunt sounding in the night air.

I loop my hand in his sweats. His hips lift upward, allowing me to tug down the material. The sight of his imprint through the tight briefs makes my breath hitch in my throat.

My hand reaches out, palming him once more. The thinner material allows me to feel more of him. It allows him to feel more. I see his hand gripping the sheets with white knuckles, his other hand in his mouth as a muffled moan sounds.

I loop my hand around the waistband of the briefs, his hips lifting once more. I drag the material tantalizingly slow. I watch as he grows impatient, his hips squirming beneath me. He leans down, pulling it off completely and tossing both his articles of clothing to the side.

I let my hand reach out to his aching member. My actions are halted by his hand clasping around my wrist. I look up at him, seeing his reddened cheeks and his concerned eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything.” he says.

I nod with an affirming smile. “I really want to make you feel good.” I whisper out. His eyes widen as I see him gulp. “Is that okay with you?” I ask.

He nods quickly, his hazy eyes clouding further with lust as he wets his lips with his tongue. “--want that so bad. But–we can stop whenever, okay?” he says.

I hum in response, letting my lips greedily wander down to his chest. I let my hand clutch more firmly around his hardened cock. A gruntled breath falls from his lips. “Fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good.” he hisses.

My confidence grows at the praise, letting my hand slowly tease his wet tip covered in precum. His hips rut upward as his hand curls in my hair with desperation.

Trailing my lips downward, I continue palming him. As I get eye level with his crotch, I let my eyes wander up to him. His eyes are trained on me with his bottom lip locked in the clutch of his teeth, turning white.

I look down, gathering spit in my mouth. I let my lips part, the salvia dripping onto his tip. I hear the muffled groan from him as I let my tongue taste him. The salty taste meets my mouth as I greedily lick him up and down, wetting every inch of him.

“Please, I need–please.” he begs. I hum, finally satisfied with the lubricant as I envelope my lips around his tip. He gathers my hair rushedly with his hands, holding it in his grip with his right hand as his left squeezes onto my shoulder. “Oh fuck.” he grunts out.

I bob my head slowly, taking more of him in with each movement. His hand leaves my shoulder, muffling the sounds as he bites into his clenched fists as I look up at him between my lashes. His jaw quivers as I pick up the pace, his hips chasing my mouth.

“Faster, please, please, please. I can’t—I need more—oh,” his jaw lifts as his head throws back in blissful pleasure.

I cover my teeth as I take more and more of him at a faster pace. I keep my tongue pressed along him firmly as his hand shakes in my hair. I reach back, holding his hand in my hair.

I pop my mouth off of him, a whine escaping his mouth. “Matt, you can hold my hair, baby.” I assure.

He mindlessly shakes his head from side to side. “--don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles. I reach up, caressing his cheek as he leans into my hand. He looks at me with a blissed out expression.

“You won’t. You never do, Matt. I’ll tap you twice if I need to, okay?” I suggest.

He nods as I make my way back down. His fingers clasp tighter in my hair, gently pulling at my scalp as my mouth sinks down on him once more.

I bring my head upward, bobbing his length in my mouth. His tip hits the back of my throat as I gag slightly, taking less of him and keeping the same pace.

The whimpers and moans muffled by his fists are barely audible. The quiet noises of my lips suctioning against him and his reactions quietly echoing through the room as I keep taking his length repeatedly.

As his grip becomes tighter, a slight burning sting in my scalp makes me whimper against him. “Fuck, sorry–so sorry, sweetheart. Doing so good, oh my god.” he mutters with a strained voice.

His grip loosens, his fingers gently massaging the area. The soothing sensation distracts me. I take him further into my mouth, relaxing my mouth as his tip ruts against the back of my throat. His stomach clenches, his thighs raising off the bed as his mouth gapes open.

“Oh my fucking god, oh fuck–baby, baby–so close,” he rants breathless in a small whisper. His eyes beam down at me as I look up at him. “You–fuck, you don’t have to. Fuck–if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in your mouth, baby.” he warns.

I hum against him, keeping my pace. His hand gasps tighter in my hair, a slight sting that I ignore as his hips stutter in an uneven pace. A warm sensation spills down my throat as he rides out his orgasm, a loud whimper muffled by his hand.

His hips fall lifelessly onto the bed. I pull my lips off of him, coughing as I try to catch my breath. I feel Matt tapping me, looking over to see him pushing his water bottle into my hands. I take it from his hands, silencing my coughs with the cool water.

I push the bottle back into his hands. “Thank you.” I voice.

He nods with a soft smile tugging at his lips. He brings the water to his own lips, chugging a couple gulps before reaching over and placing it back on the nightstand.

He leans down, pulling his briefs back on. He reaches over the bed again, lifting up his shirt that I was wearing with raised eyebrows. I nod, taking the fabric and throwing it back over my head.

Matt lays back on his side, holding the blanket up for me as I crawl back into his arms. As I wrap my arm around his waist, I frown. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

I look up at him, holding up my pointer finger before scooting backward. I sit up, pulling the shirt back over my head and letting it fall back onto the floor.

Matt gives me a questioning look as I crawl back into his arms. I lay my cheek on the pillow next to him, his hand traveling and holding me by the waist. His arm lays under the pillow beneath my head, curling upward.

The action sends my face nuzzling into the crook beneath his chin. I sigh as I feel his bare skin on mine. “Are you okay?” I hear him ask in a hushed tone.

I pull away, nodding and pecking him on the lips. “Mhm, just wanted to feel closer to you,” I mumble with half-closed eyes. His chest rumbles with a light laugh as he tugs me in closer.

His fingers curl into my hair from behind. “--’m sorry if I hurt you.” he says. The slight sore sensation of my scalp is soothed by his light massaging fingers.

I sigh at the feeling. “You’re okay, Matt…that feels so good.” I hum out. His fingers continue the motions in my hair as my body relaxes into him.

“--’m so tired, but I really appreciated everything today.” I mumble out. His motions stutter, bringing my attention forward as I fight sleep. “--I trust you, I shouldn’t have been overthinking so much in the first place. Thank you.” I say.

He hums against me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “--’m course. I never wanna hurt you. You mean…you mean so much to me.” he confesses.

My heart swells at the sweet words falling from his lips. I nuzzle further into him, his hands tightening as he lightly grazes his chin on the top of my head. “Now, go to bed, sleepy girl.” he says.

I hum, letting my limbs fall languid. Our body heat radiating in a cocoon beneath the sheets lured my mind further from conscious thoughts as my eyes fluttered closed. The smile lingers gently, tugging on the edge of my lips.

As sleep consumes me, the curl of my lips stays, my subconscious keeping thoughts of him rolling through my mind like movie scenes. Dreams don’t even compare to this man—my man.

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