#but i think exhaustion is definitely a part that's overlooked
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what shatters you ?
⸻ exhaustion
you have tried to be atlas for far too long. your legs tremble and shoulders creak beneath the weight of the world you carry. every step forward is a battle , yet you soldier on . . . for what ? when will you learn that you are allowed to lower your heavy burdens ?
tagged by : @amourem ( peekaboo ) tagging : i'm late so feel free to if you haven't already !
#* ✦ 𝐈𝐕. ❮ isms ❯ ⸻ ❝#* ✦ 𝐕𝐈. ❮ muses ❯ ⸻ ❝ 「 osamu dazai 」#* ✦ 𝐗𝐈𝐈. ❮ dash games ❯ ⸻ ❝#dazai is so complex that i feel like any of these choices are applicable#like he's undoubtedly sorrowful and he's experienced betrayal#but i think exhaustion is definitely a part that's overlooked#the fact he was in a fishing container surrounded by chemical waste for most of his developmental years#and even now he probably doesn't get nearly enough sleep aside from the occasional forty winks#but him also trying to save the world from the invasion by going against the one opponent that he knows only he could face#and on top of that he doesn't even have time to address the issues that are personal to him#or rather he avoids them and pretends he isn't impacted#or perhaps he feels like he doesn't deserve to be distraught and regretful over them in fact he deserves to feel this way#much to think about
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How do you think Eddie would react to a fwb reader who uses sex as a distraction from their feelings?? Like, they’ve been having a bad week an their mental state isn’t great but heyyy there’s sex. Reader doesn’t really care about the pleasure part of sex just the distraction. Worried Eddie would feel a little used ngl :P
((Dancy dances away nervously))
I know you started this with "do you think" but my brain said WRITE A BLURB so here we are. Also shoutout @corroded-hellfire for helping me make it cute without being cliche.
Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only, minors DNI), friends with benefits, angst/yearning, idiots in love, made it fluffy because I'm a sap
WC: 747
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You hadn’t thought anything of it the night he’d called you “baby.” He was deep within you, melding his body with yours. Lost in the moment.
Or the night he’d mumbled, “your pussy was made for me” while slamming into you from behind. It was just dirty talk; nothing more and nothing less.
Maybe you should have been tipped off when he’d growled, “mine,” his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed soft kisses below your earlobe. You’d figured the word, like the sex, was meaningless.
But tonight’s comment stops you in your tracks. Your legs are wobbling beneath you, exhausted from riding him, as you step back into your pants.
“Do you wanna, like, cuddle for a sec?”
A giggle escapes from your lips, swollen and kiss-bitten. He’s joking; he has to be. The two of you have a perfectly choreographed routine: you have a bad day, you call Eddie, you fuck, and then you leave. And his latest suggestion would definitely interfere with step four.
When your eyes meet his, you realize that he’s serious. Hurt and confusion at your laughter crease his brows, and he tugs the sheet up a bit higher.
“Sorry, I, um…” He shakes his head and rubs his face. “Never mind. You probably have to go anyway.”
You’re in no hurry to return home, fresh off of yet another argument with your roommate. That’s why you’d come over to Eddie’s trailer in the first place. And it isn’t as though you’d never thought about being in his strong, tattooed arms. The way he’d hold you flush against him, your cheek on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in your ear. It’s something you’d once wanted—craved, even—but you couldn’t let vulnerability infiltrate you like that again.
You spent high school watching him pine over the cheerleaders. He unwittingly broke your heart over and over with each woman he hooked up with at the Hideout, overlooking you despite your presence at every show. Being friends with benefits is risky enough, and post-sex snuggling will send you teetering over the edge back into the rocky terrain of unrequited love.
And so you lean into humor as you shrug on your shirt. “I don’t think this friends-with-benefits arrangement includes cuddling.” Keeping your tone light and even, restraining every desire to crawl into bed with him.
“Right, yeah.” He sighs and offers a sad half-smile. “It’s just…I was thinking—”
“That’s dangerous.”
He flips you off and continues. “I was thinking that maybe we could be more than that. Y’know, maybe we could have sex when you’re happy, too.”
“I am happy when we have sex,” you counter.
Eddie shakes his head again. “I’m talking about before we do it.” He gnaws on his thumbnail. “It feels like you only want me when you have a bad day. A-And I’m glad I can be here for you and stuff, but sometimes I wonder if I’m a friend or just a good lay.”
You try to look at him when you speak, but he keeps his gaze trained on the ground. “Eddie,” you start, taking a seat next to him. His chest is slick with sweat, the soft hairs matted down. “Eddie, I had the biggest, dumbest crush on you when we were younger. And knowing I couldn’t have you tore me apart.” You let your hand rest on his. “I can’t risk having you and then losing you.”
“Losing me?” Eddie laughs softly and his free palm comes up to cup your cheek. “Look at me. Where am I going?”
“You could find someone new, someone better, someone who—”
He cuts you off with a searing kiss, remnants of your arousal still tinging his lips and tongue. “There’s no one better,” he murmurs. “You see me answering the door at two in the morning for anyone else? Think I’d miss out on precious sleep for them?”
One arm hooks around you back and pulls you in until you assume the little spoon position. Nimble fingers undo the button of your jeans, slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the way he’d practically torn the denim removing them earlier.
“‘S that comfier?” He asks through a yawn.
“Mhm.” And it is. It’s the most relaxed you’ve been in a while, at least without him inside you.
His curls tickle the back of your neck as he nuzzles into you. He staves off sleep long enough to speak one last time.
“I’m glad you’re staying, baby.”
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#requests#eddie x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things#smut
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Like this is personal and anecdotal and I do recognize that I am probably in the minority here (or if not, that people with a different experience are definitely way louder about it). But. Personally speaking, I am significantly more likely to be triggered (and WAY more likely to be badly triggered) by a story’s framing than by its content. And content warnings are themselves part of a story’s framing. Ironically, blackly hilariously, this actually means that an exhaustively tagged story which overlooks something is vastly more likely to do a number on me than a story labeled with some kind of extremely nonspecific Yeah Shit Gets Fucked Up Here tag.
Again, I recognize that this is personal and anecdotal and that I am likely in the minority. But I also don’t think this is in any way unique enough that it shouldn’t be something we consider when we talk about why people might go a less-is-more route with content warnings.
#for tags and warnings to be broadly useful it needs to be broadly recognized that they are subjective. i will die on this hill.#there is no single Objectively Correct way to tag and it does more harm than good to insist that there is.#on warnings#my posts
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Hurt
Thanks to @driksss for the idea:
[I loved your story
please
write a story in which the reader accidentally hurts herself during training and qimir feels guilty and takes care of her injuries]
Warnings: description of injuries/light smut/sub Qimir
"Again" I ordered, with my lightsaber on.
Qimir grumbled, his butt on the ground "Can I take a break?" he complained, getting up and brushing the dirt off his pants, the lightsaber at his feet.
"Come on, Qimir. At least until sunset, as usual. I'll cook tonight" I tried to cheer him up with a bright expression, but he didn't seem particularly pleased.
"It's just that... never mind" he called his lightsaber back to him before starting to walk. "But let's move from here. The ground keeps making me slip, I can't stand it anymore." I sighed but followed him without protest, my saber now off and at my belt.
I silently watched his back as we walked. We were both terribly sweaty, the forest was humid and the afternoon sun was dry, not to mention we had been training for hours. The tank top I wore was now clinging to me, and the loose pants that reached my knees were soaked with dirt, grass, mud, and sweat.
Qimir looked just as worn out, to the point where he had cut off the sleeves of his shirt with his lightsaber for some extra air.
His back was drenched in sweat, and my first instinct was to tease him, but things were tense between us.
It had been an uphill journey for us, friends, colleagues, and now master and acolyte.
Unfortunately, we were still working on the last part, especially considering how we were indirectly or directly... intimate.
I sighed.
I knew it was a bad idea.
But now, telling him to end it seemed even worse.
We kept training for at least a couple more hours, and honestly, I couldn't stand it anymore.
He kept making stupid mistakes, tripping over branches, getting distracted, it was infuriating.
We stood on top of some trees, the first pink and orange lights of sunset coloring the landscape. It would have been almost romantic if we weren't two Banthas soaked and dirty with earth. We definitely needed a shower.
We jumped from branch to branch, red against red, our bodies pulsing with fatigue. The goal was to get him used to more exhausting rhythms, but it was useless if two times out of three I had to divert my own stroke because he was too distracted to dodge them.
"If you're so bored, you could have spared me the trouble of paying attention to you today!" I finally snapped, and without even thinking, I crouched in a fluid motion, aiming at the thick branch under his feet and cutting it diagonally. Whether he was surprised by my shout or the move, I couldn't say, but he lost his balance, one foot slipping on the moss covering the tree, and he began to fall.
I had time to glance at him a little longer and realize my colossal mistake.
Below us, there weren't just a few meters separating us from the ground, we had gradually moved deeper into the forest, where the trees grew denser and taller, and the branches we were on directly overlooked a small cliff crossed by a stream. Qimir was about to fall into it like a sack of potatoes.
I reached out with my hand, pulling him towards me with the Force, just enough to grab his wrist in the panic of the moment. I managed to pull him up, but in doing so, I lost my balance. My other hand still held the lightsaber uselessly, and I began to fall.
I saw him as he clung to the branch where I had been seconds earlier. I instinctively turned off the lightsaber as I plummeted. Qimir reached out to stop me, but in a mix of fatigue and panic, he only managed to slow the inevitable. He lost his grip, and I crashed down the last few meters, finally rolling into the shallow stream.
I hissed as a ringing filled my ears, my body on fire as I tensed my muscles. I couldn't tell if I'd broken something in the process, but I was sure I was bleeding—I could feel it on me, and the stream wasn't deep enough to get me this wet.
I struggled to open my eyes, my vision dark at the edges as I tried to focus around me. I couldn't see Qimir, but I assumed he was about to come down, so I looked at myself, and it was bad.
Nothing seemed unnaturally bent, but I was bleeding profusely. My legs, arms, torso, not to mention the dull pain I felt throughout my body—if nothing was broken, I'd at least sprained something. Qimir's brief intervention had prevented the worst, but I was still in danger.
"Force, wait, i'm here"
I looked up to see Qimir sliding down the cliff before making one last jump near me, panic in his eyes as he looked at me, breathing heavily. "Come on, damn it, okay, I've got this-" he stammered as he knelt beside me, his trembling hands searching for a wound that wasn't even visible due to the blood scattered everywhere.
"Calm down, Qimir—" I tried to reassure him with a hoarse voice before grabbing his wrist. "I need you to carry me, so try to concentrate" He shot me a wide-eyed glance and nodded. He quickly stood up to retrieve my lightsaber, which had fallen a few meters ahead, and after recovering it, he came back to pick me up. It was quite complicated to get me onto his shoulders, everything burned, and while I could somewhat move my arms, I certainly didn't have the strength to pull myself up or bend my legs. He practically had to lie down next to me so I could roll onto him and slowly drag myself onto his back. Once he ensured I was in a stable position, he began to run toward the base.
I don't know exactly how much time passed—I hadn't noticed how deep we were in the forest, and we reached our shelter on the edge of the woods when it was already pitch dark. I kept myself awake by sheer miracle, more to keep Qimir from panicking than anything else, as he seemed on the verge of a panic attack, mumbling something I couldn't hear well and was too exhausted to ask him to speak up.
We had rented a house for a while nearby—a woodland retreat for those who wanted a nature getaway. We were there to train undisturbed, which wasn't in our favor now that we actually needed to be near civilization to call for help.
Qimir opened the door, quickly closing it behind us and heading straight for the bathroom with determined steps. "We have some medicine, but I don't know how much it can help" I could only let out a laughing breath. "I told you we'd regret not stopping by the store"
He shook his head but said nothing more, letting me slide to the floor beside the tub where I collapsed without strength.
I kept my eyes half-closed—the bathroom light seemed to burn my eyes. "Turn it off, please" I whispered wearily, hearing him rummaging through the bottles behind the sink's glass. He grabbed what he needed before turning off the main light, leaving only the dim secondary one on.
"Swallow these—one for the pain, and the other to make sure no infections develop... we only have one more, so tomorrow we need to get you to a doctor" I swallowed them, thankful for the miracles of bacta that might help me get through this.
"Now, I'm going to put you in the tub and heal you with the Force, okay?"
He began to open my robe with trembling hands, and I chuckled. "Don't be shy, it's not like you haven't seen me before" but he didn't find it as funny, given the glare he shot me.
I didn't feel uncomfortable being naked—I had never had too many problems about it, just as he didn't with me, and besides, given my overall condition, neither of us was really focused on anything else. Qimir turned on the hot water in the tub and started to undress.
"We haven't tried this before. You're brave tonight" I noted with poorly concealed amusement and a tired voice.
"Stop it. I need to wash you, and I can't afford for you to slip in the tub."
I muttered something, but I felt my strength leaving me. "I really need to close my eyes for a bit" I whispered as he grabbed me under the armpits and moved me into the tub, which was filling with hot water. I hissed at the sensation—the pills were beginning to numb my nerves, but the dull pain I felt would continue for a while. The warmth of the tub was pleasant, but it burned my skin, and within seconds, the water had already taken on a brownish-red color.
"I've got you, don't worry" Qimir's voice near my ear made me shiver, though I hoped he hadn't noticed. Once he made sure I was in a safe position, he leaned over to grab the soap "Qimir. I really need to close my eyes" I said in an increasingly faint voice. I saw his lips move, his expression worried, but I couldn't hear his words, and I passed out.
When I opened my eyes, I was still in the tub.
The first thing I heard was my heavy breathing filling the small bathroom. The water around me was strangely clean. I raised a hand to rub my eyes and noticed how wrinkled my skin was, a sign that I had been here for a while.
I caught a glimpse of the long abrasion wounds covering my arms when, from behind, a hand gently took mine—Qimir's hand.
"It's okay, I'm here." His rough voice in my ear was enough to finally understand what was happening.
He had sat behind me in the tub, resting me against his chest. I was so confused that I hadn't noticed his head next to mine.
I turned my gaze towards him, realizing how close we were. He seemed more relaxed and calm now, his eyes fixed on mine, and a sad smile on his lips.
“You’ve been out of it for a while" his tone was still low and slow. This time, the trembling in my body was obvious, but he misunderstood the reaction, as he gently slid us a bit deeper into the warm water.
“You washed your hair” I noted with poorly concealed amusement and a tired voice.
He chuckled with a smile. “And for the record, I washed yours too” I giggled, followed by him, the atmosphere much more relaxed now, although a slight glance outside the tub made me notice the dried blood on the floor.
But I was feeling better.
I think.
I pressed my face into the crook of his neck, still feeling dizzy and tired, but the movement was terrible. Though I appeared better on the outside, inside, I was still a mess. I couldn’t tell if the pills had already worn off or if they weren’t strong enough from the start. “Take it easy, I... I haven’t healed you yet” Qimir admitted, tightening an arm under my chest in a hug.
I murmured in confusion, and he sighed. “I... can’t. I took some time to relax and clean us up. I’m feeling better, but... I can’t focus” the discomfort was evident in his tone.
I couldn’t really blame him, it wasn’t such a common power, and during his years as a Jedi, it seemed to have remained dormant, now forcing him to train it from scratch.
Unfortunately, I could only help him from a theoretical standpoint, which made the learning process slower than usual, but he was gradually improving.
“It’s the first time you’ve tried with internal trauma and not external injuries. Not to mention it’s much more complex than the small cuts you’ve been practicing on until now. You need to relax” I murmured against the skin of his neck, my eyes closed as I pressed more gently against his chest.
I could feel the tremor in his heavy sigh through the contact between our bodies. I moved our still intertwined hands to my stomach, while the free hand moved to the side of his face in a gentle caress. I left a slow kiss on his neck before slightly lifting myself up so that my lips were at the height of his ear.
“Do you want to make me feel good, Qimir?” I asked sweetly, looking at him. He had closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly upwards. I released his hand to rest it on my stomach.
“Y-yes” he stammered in response.
“Then breathe. And focus on me.” I kissed his jaw a couple of times, leaving a slight trail of saliva along his skin. His chest rose and fell deeply, dragging my body along with his as our breaths synchronized “Good boy.”
There was a moment of silence before a pleasant warmth began to soothe my aching muscles and bones. I only let it go on for a few seconds, worried he might overdo it. “Slowly now, we both need our strength” I moved his hand away from me, caressing the back of it. He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to meet mine, his lips slightly parted as his heartbeat quickened in his chest.
He leaned in towards my lips, but I pulled away with a small smile. “Slowly now” The disappointment was clear in his features, his dark irises, and the moisture in his eyes seemed to burn me alive.
“I really need to get out of the water” I whispered against his lips before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.
“Keep being good, and maybe I’ll give you a reward later.”
This seemed to cheer him up, and we moved to get out of the tub. Unfortunately, Qimir couldn’t help me as much as he would have liked; my body was still in constant pain, though much more manageable than before. All the wounds on my arms and legs had stopped bleeding but needed to be bandaged.
We took a brief walk to the bedroom in a somewhat ridiculous manner. I was still in pain, and Qimir had used some of his energy to heal my bones, so he was feeling as tired as I was.
“Wait, I want to sit down” I said, letting myself fall into the armchair next to the bed with a sigh.
“Okay. One last effort. And then we’ll sleep” he said, picking up the kit that was already on the bed. I glanced at him sideways as he sat down next to me and started covering the cuts with soft, bacta-soaked bandages. They couldn’t completely heal the wounds, but at least I would sleep more peacefully.
A few seconds passed before he spoke “I’m sorry. It was my fault” his voice rough and low as he kept his gaze fixed on what he was doing, the room dimly lit only by the moonlight outside.
“Nonsense. I wasn’t careful” I replied, looking at the ceiling.
So much had happened in just a few hours that I had almost forgotten how it all started, and as much as the dynamic still irritated me, I was partly responsible.
I should have just talked to him.
“Stop it. I... you’re right to be mad at me” I looked at his bowed head, avoiding my gaze. Slowly, he knelt in front of me, and I couldn’t help but blush a little seeing him between my legs, the wounds long forgotten.
“We both made mistakes—” I began, but he shook his head. I saw the way his jaw clenched when he was nervous, and I bit my lips in response. He was finally opening up to me, and I was getting distracted.
I was hopeless.
“No. I was distracted. I deserved a lesson, but you were too kind to me” his long, slender fingers gently held my ankle as he carefully tightened the bandage up to my thigh.
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
“Distracted by what, anyway? You’ve been doing well lately” I tried to focus on his words, but even his tone sent a shiver between my legs, and not being able to rub them together was even worse.
A few seconds passed. He finished the bandages completely before raising his gaze to me, and I almost lost my breath.
He looked at me with those dark, deep eyes, which unsettled my stomach.
Kneeling between my legs, I felt terribly vulnerable given the weakness of my limbs, not to mention he was wearing a loose shirt that allowed me to see part of his smooth chest from above.
I knew what he was about to say.
Our relationship had inevitably solidified into something much more than just a simple friendship or brotherhood due to the time spent together.
I didn’t know if it was I who had seduced him first or if he had fallen at my feet.
But we liked it.
The only thing was that Qimir had still been a Jedi, and now his experiences were limited, if not non-existent. He wanted to learn, but he felt awkward, so he often behaved like a wounded puppy, using some excuse to put his hands on me and feel less pathetic for begging for my more experienced touch.
“By you. By what you do to me” he finally answered, his hand slowly caressing my ankle with his thumb. The fingertips of his hands trailed up along my calves, stopping behind my knees, where his palms gently squeezed.
“I’m obsessed with you. With your scent. With your skin. I can’t stop thinking about your voice,” if possible, his voice dropped even lower.
“I want to make you feel good.” He placed one of my legs beside him before slowly bending down to kiss the bandaged side of my knee.
“I want to deserve everything you give me” Without even realizing it, I spread my legs to let him position himself better between them. He kissed a patch of skin higher up, and even higher, until he was inevitably approaching the part of me that craved his touch the most.
He gently rested his head on my inner thigh, looking directly into my eyes through the strands of hair falling over his face.
“I want to learn to worship you. So please, teach me again how to touch you the way you need”
I had to exhale with trembling lips as I gripped the armrests of the chair beneath me.
"I'll be a good boy for you."
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who knew camp counsellor james would have such a hold on me-
i feel like one one of the last days of the camp before they have to go back to experiencing the joys of the real world james would sneak the reader out past curfew to indulge in a late night campfire session or smth yk? it would just be really cute-
Thanks for requesting lovely!
camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
It took you a while to clear the fog of sleep from your head, and you could really argue that you didn’t fully wake up until after you’d put your shoes on and slipped out of your cabin to let James take you into the woods. Your decision making abilities were definitely not fully functioning.
Not because you wouldn’t have gone if they were, but because you probably would have put on real shorts.
You feel strangely underdressed in your pajamas while James leads the way in his everyday clothes. Whatever this is—you haven’t had the wherewithal to ask many questions—it was clearly pre-planned on his end, and you hadn’t been clued in until he’d tapped on the window by your bunk bed and asked you to come outside.
“Careful of that hole there,” he warns you, voice chipper and oddly loud in the quiet of early morning, though you think he’s speaking at a normal volume.
You step over the hole he’d gestured to, every step helping you to shed the lethargy you’ve carried out of your cabin with you. The world around you is lightening, your sandaled feet brushing against wet blades of grass and mist pleasantly chilling your skin. There’s an excitement coming off James that’s more contagious the more you wake up.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“The top of the hill.”
“Why?”
“God, can’t I have any secrets?” He tosses you a smile over his shoulder. “It’s a surprise.”
You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Is the surprise that you’re going to murder me?”
“Well, now you’ve spoiled it.”
You don’t actually think James would murder you. He may be serial-killer charming, but he’s the sort of kind that persists even when no one is looking and you truly don’t think he’s got a malicious bone in his body. There’s certainly nothing malicious about the way he looks at you now, turning to watch you finish the climb as he steps into the clearing beyond the trees.
This grassy bluff (referred to lovingly by camp staff as “the hill”) overlooks the lake and the uninhabited, wooded land opposite your camp. On the horizon, you can see thin wisps of fog coating the landscape, tinged faintly yellow by the emerging light though the sun hasn’t yet broken the surface.
This isn’t somewhere the kids ever really come, but still management has built a wooden fence along the edge of the hill to make sure no one misses the drop-off or tries to jump into the lake below. James walks up to it like this is something he does every day, putting his legs between the two boards so he’s sitting on one with his arms folded across the other.
You follow suit, though you’re still not sure why you’re here. James set a hand on your back to keep you from tipping backwards while you get situated, and even through the material of your pajama top, it burns like a brand.
“So, this is the plan,” you say, hating the nervous pitch of your voice. Even though you and James see each other every day, it’s rare that you’re so thoroughly alone with him. “You’re going to dump me in the lake, and then blame it on my own recklessness for climbing over the fence.”
“Yes, you’ve figured me out,” James replies, but his heart doesn’t seem in the joke anymore. “No, I was just thinking, we never get any time away from the kids.”
“Except the bonfire.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop it, the closest either of you have come to acknowledging what happened in the woods that night. You blame exhaustion for the slip. James’ eyes widen slightly, his lips parting like he might say something, but you go on in a hurry, “But yeah, generally we don’t.”
James quells his surprise, lips turning up again. “Right. I’ve been wanting to come up here to watch the sunrise—it’s the only place you can really see it around here—and I figured we may as well. Friday’s our last day, you know?”
The levity goes out of you in a soft breath. You turn your gaze towards the horizon. “Yeah,” you acknowledge.
The end of camp heavies your heart for loads of reasons, but lately the idea of not seeing James has been your least favorite. It’s both of your first summer here, and you’re already planning to come back next year but you don’t know if he’ll do the same.
You find yourself asking, “Are you ready to go home?”
The boards creak as James shifts his weight. “There are people I miss, so I’ll be happy to get back to them, but…no, not really. I feel like things have ended too fast. Like, I thought there’d be more time, but now all of a sudden we’re meant to start packing. Are you?”
You look at James. His hair really has gotten long. There are curls that you think if pulled would stretch nearly to the tip of his nose. You remember when he’d shown up for training, three days before the kids got here, cleaner and several shades lighter and by far the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You’d hardly been able to look at him that first day, so nervous about tripping over your tongue and embarrassing yourself before being stuck with this gorgeous boy for the entire summer, but James’ geniality proved relentless. By dinnertime he’d had you trading your fruit for his fries and the camaraderie between you after that had been easy and fun, if not always strictly friendly.
“Not really,” you agree, offering him a halfhearted smile.
James’ knee bumps yours, and all the heat in your body seems to focus on the spot. He smiles back at you. “I’m gonna miss you,” he says, tone light but eyes heavy.
Your head feels staticky. “I’m gonna miss you, too,” you say. Any other time your voice would be too quiet to hear, but the morning is still, and James feels closer to you than he was a few moments before. “You’re right, I wish there’d been more time for…things.”
“We could keep in touch.” His voice has gone soft too. You can almost feel his warm breath on your face. “I don’t live that far from you, we could meet up on weekends, or…”
“Right,” you murmur, but you only get about halfway through before his lips are on yours.
James tastes like toothpaste and fresh air, and he kisses just like you thought he would, giving and taking in equal measure. His mouth is warm and easy on yours, testing the waters, feeling out what you want. You grip his shoulder to pull him closer, and despite the awkward angle he obliges you. Your head fills with buzzing bees.
You lose your balance and nearly fall off the fence, but James catches you, laughing into your mouth. He eases you both down onto the ground, appeasing you with kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the side of your nose until he finds his way back to your lips. The dewy wetness of the grass seeps into your clothes.
You feel more than see the sun rising over the lake. Golden light blooms on the insides of your eyelids, followed by a faint warmth on that side of your face. You find you’re actually alright with missing this one.
#camp counselor!james potter#james potter au#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#marauders era#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Suffer Pt. 5 | Lucifer x Reader
Hoof this one was a doozy. I struggled with it a little, there's a lot going on so :') Apologies in advance if there's any confusion. BUT EITHER WAY, it's here! 🎉
(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
No CW! Just angst and plot!
♡♡♡
Things didn't feel out of place at first. Sure, Alastor's little stunt definitely left you shaken, but afterward it seemed that everything returned to normal. While the hotel was refurbished and had made a name for itself, it was still a struggle to get any more residents in. So things eventually went back to how they were. The only difference was Lucifer deciding to stay in the hotel, but even that.. seemed unimportant? Was that the word?
It was the strangest thing, any time you'd step outside and see the sparkling, apple ornamented tower, you'd mentally remind yourself to go say hi. Or those occasions where you'd pass Lucifer in the hallway, you'd say something about catching up or even trying to see eachother again.
Just call me!
You never got any calls, though. Any texts you sent weren't replied to. And for some strange reason, you'd rarely see Lucifer. You never really considered how much work he'd have to do, but it must be a lot for him to not even answer your calls. Or maybe he was avoiding you? You hoped that wasn't the case. You did your best to not think about it, or else you'd spiral into everything that you might've done wrong. That being said, in these brief passages, he still seemed so kind to you. Maybe you were overthinking things..
When he was comfortable enough, he would come down to the lobby and become the life of the party. He'd join everyone for drinks, crack ridiculous jokes, and generally just show off to appease his audience. You noticed he was never really looking at you, on these nights. And when you'd say something to him, respond to some joke he made, he'd look your way but wouldn't respond or he'd outright ignore you. And for everyone else, it seemed to go completely noticed. No one thought it strange for Lucifer to completely overlook you.
Your romantic dalliances weren't spoken of, but it was clear that you two were essentially inseparable at some point. Before the hotel reopened. It hurt. You tried so hard to convince yourself it was just him being busy, but fuck it still hurt.
Maybe I should confront him.
You thought about that ages ago, and no matter how easy that sounds, he really was nowhere to be found. Even at the dead of night when everyone's asleep and your nightmares, which have come back in full force, are keeping you awake; You'd go to him, but even his bedroom seemed vacant.
Thank god you weren't alone. You had your truest friend, Alastor, ready to comfort you whenever you needed it. He suggested you start listening to his nighttime broadcasts again, and as usual, he was right. It became a comforting sensation when your bed was feeling empty. He knew that Lucifer would hurt you again and he warned you multiple times. You should've just listened.
"Fuck, I'm sorry Al, I just.. I feel so stupid. I should've listened to you in the first place. I don't know what I did wrong, I thought I - that maybe we were.." After an especially long night, your willpower to hold back any tears had been exhausted. A puffy-eyed, sniffling, mess, Alastor lets you lean into his side as he embraces your entirety quite easily with his lengthy limbs. You both sat at the edge of your bed, him brushing hair from your face and occasionally cooing you and hushing you.
"No need to apologize, darling, I'm only worried for your wellbeing. But it was probably for the best, I'm glad it came to an end before it got too serious, hm?" As he went on, it only left you bursting into tears again. Things had become serious. If only he knew.. maybe he should know. You can trust him, it's just Alastor after all. You were so restless and drunk, you were desperate for comfort. You told him everything.
"Well! Isn't that..! Something.. " He clears his throat once he sees your expectant, tearful eyes. "Oh, my poor thing. You've been through it all, haven't you?" He pulled you even closer as he spoke, you shifted to your side and leaned into his chest. He fully comforted you in an embrace that was very needed.
"I just don't understand-" He shushes you before you can go on.
"Don't you worry. I'll be here for you, right to the end." You were too exhausted to question his phrase, suddenly feeling the weight of your eyelids pulling your eyes closed.
"Stay- please.. stay..." Your voice was hardly a whisper, as you gripped onto his coat that was already stained with your tears. He nodded, and before you knew it, you were curled up in his arms. Your head resting against his chest felt softer than your own pillows at that moment. He draped your beloved sweater over your shoulders as you muffled more depressing thoughts into his chest. He began to hum some song, one you recognized from the radio. The tone was low and comfortable, the vibrations from his chest, forced a shaky yet relaxed sigh from your lips. He continued to comb through your hair, and maybe if you were sober and alert, you could recognize the sensation of a subtle kiss on the top of your head.
-
The next morning, Lucifer finds himself sitting at his fancy new desk, a small amenity in the upgrade of a workshop he had received. He moved to the hotel for one reason only; to be closer to Charlie, and help her no matter what's in store. And maybe, another perk is being closer to you.. That’s just a plus, though. Focus on your priorities, Lucifer.
Letting out a frustrated groan, he tossed whatever papers he was holding to the side and leaned back in his chair. Resting his eyes on the ceiling with his head tilted back, the quiet of the room seemed to help clear his mind. For a minute. Then, all he could think of was your sweet voice, scolding him for leaving any marks on you during your little "meet-ups". He would do it on purpose, just to see you flustered. With a nervous hand around his neck, he feels himself gulp at the thought. He had gone centuries without being touched like that and seemed content. But remembering the feeling of your hands running across his chest.. How could just the thought work him up?
"Maybe, I should.. ugh, no! Who am I kidding?” With a flustered curse, he kicked his chair out and began to circle his room.
"Maybe I should go talk to her! Yeah! But.. she's not answering your calls.. so, maybe.. she wants to talk in person..? That's it! Or.. no... Maybe I should wait.. I shouldn't wake her up so early in the morning.. or should I even be going to her? What if she needs space? What if I don't give her that and then I-I ruin it? Again??" He continues this panicked conversation with himself for a while, battling the decision to just go and profess an undying love that even he might be overthinking.
Fuck it.
He fills his lungs with air before walking straight up to your door, fist ready in the air to knock. Sure it was early, he knew you liked to sleep in a little longer than this. It even made him question again whether or not he should just wait for -
The door swings open, with Lucifer's fist still in the air.
Of course. Of, fucking, course.
"Ahh! Another visit from Our Majesty! I'm afraid she's rather exhausted after all the drinks- and crying- from our previous night together, so I would suggest you go elsewhere." Alastor stood in the door frame, blocking the entirety of your room from Lucifer. Even peeking to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of you, Alastor stepped in his way.
"Don't do this, Alastor. I only want to- wh- did you say crying? " He had a whole rant he was about to read off about how inappropriate Alastor was, toying with your feelings somehow, and how he didn't trust him one bit.
"This was good timing, actually! I'm assuming this belongs to you? I found it in the parlor room a while ago. Since it was the same night as your little.. visit.. with our friend- I assumed that it was your doing." Alastor interrupts any other thoughts that Lucifer might have and raises a.. corset. With silky ribbons for laces.
"It's certainly not your style, but to each their own, I suppose!" The belt hangs off one of his fingers as he speaks, swinging it back and forth playfully. Lucifer reaches forward and takes it with both hands, squeezing and turning it in a tight grip.
"I don't know what twisted game you're playing, you slimy prick." Lucifer hovers off his feet, his wings flapping out and keeping him at a height tall enough for him to pull Alastor up by his collar. They share an intimidating set of snarling, pointed teeth at each other. "But if you're doing anything to hurt her, I swear -"
Alastor holds up a finger to his mouth and shushes him. Did he really just shush the king of hell? Before Lucifer had a chance to raise a flaming fist at Alastor's infuriating smile, a muffled groan came from inside your room. With a blink, his previously reddened glowing eyes returned to their usual hue. He made no effort to comfortably drop Alastor, forcing him to land on the ground with a thud.
His other demonic features disappeared as he reached for the entrance of your room, already seeing you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. But something stopped him. Something ominous. Something.. forbidding. It felt like a barrier that weighed heavy on him just by looking in your general direction.
Lucifer stumbled backward at the overwhelming sensation. Catching his breath, he blinked his eyes to their inverted ruby hue, again. He didn't use this often, but on occasion, there were some evils in the world that even he couldn't comprehend without thorough examination. He stood in awe at what he saw. Your room was fumed with some glowing green haze, it was impossible to see anything inside. And good lord, it smelled awful. Covering his mouth and nose, he looked over at Alastor, who was still recovering from being thrown to the ground.
"What did you do..?" His voice was layered with growls, an inhuman filter that forced flames from his lips as he spoke. Alastor's only response was a casual chuckle, he stood and brushed his coat off.
"It's simply a precaution. Just taking care of my dear friend."
"Aaal- shut the door it's too bright..!" You called out, pulling the sweater over your head with a groan.
"Speaking of - it’s best you keep your distance, your highness. I'd hope you have her best interest in mind." You shout Alastor's name one more time, the sound of your voice making Lucifer's heart drop. Even when it was some bastard's name, he missed hearing your voice.
"Coming! My love-" With a final sinister grin, Alastor carefully shuts himself inside your room. Doing who knows what. Twisting and turning the returned corset in his hands, he let his head droop to examine the accessory. He recalled how it looked on you, in that pretty little dress, how it hugged your curves. Then the actions that led to you removing it.
With a flustered groan, Lucifer finally gave up. He returned to his quarters without another word. He would've torn Alastor to shreds right then. But so many things told him not to. He was helping Charlie, and he had no idea how he would explain to his daughter why he was torn piece by piece and fed to some sinners in Cannibal Town; a plan he considered in the heat of the moment. He hated to remind himself of another factor; he was close to you, as well. That made things much worse.
"What was all that noise?" You grumbled, sitting up and clawing at your aching head. Letting out a pathetic groan, you fall back against your bed and lift the sweater to cover your still-straining eyes. Pulling the collar to your nose, you took in another intoxicating breath.
"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, dear. Are you feeling well enough to finally attend that 'lunch date' you've been avoiding?" You sigh in response to his question, shrugging your shoulders.
"Yeah, I haven't seen Rosie in a while. That could be nice.. and shut up, I haven't been avoiding it.. just been busy.." your voice was muffled by the knit over your nose. With a sweet sigh, Alastor hovers over you, lightly tugging your face free.
"I'm so sure. I'll come find you once you're ready." He said it so gently, fiddling with your hair and staring deeply into your eyes. He reveled in the sight of you turning red by his words. You nod your head, watching him fade into the inky shadows in the corner of your room.
You finally started to wake up, yawning, stretching, doing anything to ease your tired mind. You looked through your phone again, still no new messages. That didn't seem to bug you as much as it would've a few days prior. You focused on the fun activities you had planned for the day. Rosie never failed to cheer you up.
You just had to keep going. You couldn't let some silly fling stop you from enjoying your eternal damnation. Or from trying to be redeemed. Alastor's voice was constantly in your head. Any doubts you’d have, you'd recall his words: It was probably for the best.
-
You did your best to move on, but what especially helped you through these trying times? Drinks. You were drinking almost every night at this point. It would be a real problem if you were actually able to die. It wasn't so bad when you had some of the other demons join you, it was easier to keep your mind off of.. certain things when you would hear Angel talking about how shitty his day was and going into painful detail, or when Charlie was going on about some passion project. She somehow manages to talk more after a few drinks.. you didn't realize that was possible. But you still loved her either way. You owed her so much, after everything you've put her through. That's what you were thinking when you weren't drinking at least. All those thoughts went away after a few shots.
A golden drink slid into your hand with a sudden stop, causing some of its contents to spill over your fingers. With a quiet curse, you run your tongue across your knuckles. Clearly not noticing the pair of eyes that have been on you the whole night, you down yet another round of drinks from Husk. It was you, Charlie, and Vaggie just having a little nightcap after you had gone out with Alastor to see Rosie. It was a nice little catch-up, even if it consisted of Charlie droning on about something you didn't have the strength to listen to.
Oh, and not that you would have noticed, but Lucifer sat across the bar from you. He couldn't keep his damn eyes off of you. For some reason, that strange barrier was weaker and he’s finally getting the chance to see you, really see you, for the first time in weeks.
You rest your cheek on the counter, listening to Charlie get into a passionate rant about something that would help the hotel. Every now and then, Lucifer would have to break his eye line from you to nod and smile at whatever Charlie could be going on about. He could care less right now.
"Dad. Dad!" A sudden shaking of his shoulder forced his attention to Charlie. An immediate guilt washed over him, as he clasped his hands together in front of him.
"Were you even listening..? Doesn't matter.. I guess.. but, Alastor’s gonna join us, so can you.. play nice? Pleease? I'd love for you guys to get along.." She whispered in his direction, her questioning finally bringing his attention to a casually seated radio demon who appeared at the barstool just next to yours. He looked back to Charlie, with an agitated expression.
"I-I don't know, sweetie, maybe I should just head back-" Ready to drop everything, he watched Alastor run a hand down your back, you let out a little groan in response. You sat up, stretching your arms upward then turning to Alastor.
You smile exhaustedly, greeting him with a quiet hum. You then attempted to beckon another drink from Husk. As the bartender slid it your direction, a hand came up and quickly stopped the glass before it could reach you. Alastor held the drink upward, just out of your grasp.
"I'm sure you're having fun, dear, but I believe it's about time you head to bed." Alastor says. He lifts the drink farther away from you, watching you lean forward in a sad attempt to take it back. With a sigh of defeat, you nod, taking hold of his now extended arm to stumble off the barstool without falling flat on your face.
"No, wait!" Lucifer practically shouts, he pushes himself away from the bar, ready to sweep you off your feet. To save you. That dreaded smog had reappeared with Alastor's presence. But assessing the newfound silence in the room, everyone turning to him for some kind of explanation of his actions, he caught Charlie's eyes. They were confused and worried. He quickly clears his throat, straightening his posture.
"Alastor, buddy! You just got here, why don't you stick around and chat or talk about your feelings or something? I can take her to bed no problem!" He says smoothly, nudging Charlie with his elbow at the mention of talking about feelings. That seemed to work. She agreed, clarifying that as long as you got to bed safe then, she'd love to have Alastor stay and chat.
"Ahahah, I do believe she'd be more comfortable with me taking her away. We've become rather close, truly a relationship I cherish!" That also seemed to work. Charlie was a sucker for the idea of Alastor developing any sort of positive relationship.
"Are you sure about that, pal? Maybe she just needs -" Lucifer is determined, he speaks with clenched teeth, struggling to ever consider him a “pal”.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, I doubt she'd want your help. After everything you've done to her." He hissed out his words, willing to say anything to get a rise out of Lucifer. Oh, and that definitely did it. How much could he possibly know? Lucifer had no problem with you confiding in a friend about.. everything.. But him? And for him to have the audacity to mention anything in front of Charlie? Lucifer was ready to put him six more feet under the ground.
"Dad..? Is- uhh.. everything okay? What's Alastor talking about?" Charlie was quiet, almost nervous to ask any questions. Luckily, before she could worry about that, she got distracted by something else. A little tune you were singing. It wasn't a hum like it's been all these years. You slurred out a recognizable song, as Alastor continued to take you up the stairs. A tune that immediately made Charlie go quiet.
"I-I know.. I know that song...Holy shit, Vaggie!" Charlie frantically grabs her partner’s arms and shakes her vigorously, a pent-up excitement forcing a smile from her.
"Ah, it was so long ago, but - she.. kind of raised me, didn't she?" Charlie forgot who she was with for a moment, quickly swiveling her chair to face Lucifer.
"Dad! What was her job? At home, I mean- I can't believe I've never asked that.. what did she do?" Lucifer caved to her questions, Charlie's pure adrenaline shocking him.
"W-Well, I uh.. she was.. " He finally let out a sigh. "You're right, she did raise you. I mean.. for a few years, at least. Then- uhm! That's it! Then she left for some reason." This was no place for big confessions. Everyone had something to drink, and you weren't even sober enough to stand on your own two feet. We'll get to it later.
-
Alastor was near your room, still treating you with as much tender love and care as usual. You continued your familiar tune, giggling and hiccuping as you struggled to walk. He eventually swept you off your feet, causing your flushed face to turn even redder. Finally entering the safety of your room, you were carefully tossed into your bed. Sweet Alastor took the time to conjure up your coat from wherever you had left it, draping it over your shoulders yet again. You held onto it, gripping the sleeves and smoothing the plush material through your fingers, then smiled at Alastor.
“Come here, please.” You said softly, moving over to have him sit at the side of your bed. He did so without a complaint, propping himself up with his hand against your blankets and leaning towards you with his usual smile. “You're always so sweet to me, Al.” You slur your words, placing your hand overtop of his and leaning in with a content hum.
“Anything for you, love. I've enjoyed your company just as much.” His voice didn't hold its usual static filter, allowing you to appreciate his natural tone. You've never heard it before. The idea of him trusting you with this side of him caused an ache in your stomach. You sat up, the sweater hanging loosely off your shoulders as you climbed towards him with a glazed-over look in your eyes.
Alastor had a suspicion that you felt some sort of romantic attraction to him. Even with his charm and wits, he wasn't prepared to feel your lips meeting his. He could taste the drinks you had been downing all night and made the slightest effort to lean away from you. It went unnoticed, as you hummed into the kiss, moving even closer to him to cup his cheeks and keep his attention on you.
You were aching for this sort of attention. And unfortunately, your strength to suppress this underlying feeling for him just wasn't there at that moment. He reached forward, brushing your hair away from your neck and placing his hand on your shoulder. He couldn't let this go on. For several reasons. He shifted his hand from your shoulder to pull your sweater back up, then gently pushed you away.
“I-I’m sorry..” You were hot to the touch, your heated skin becoming worse just from sheer embarrassment. You leaned back, quickly wiping some tears that had welled in the moment.
“It’s.. alright, dear. No need to be embarrassed. I simply haven’t felt.. that way, in quite a long-” A loud crackle interrupted the awkward moment, coming from the radio on your nightstand, and just quietly from his own lips. The sound had you reeling away, your hands pressed against your ears in shock. His own ears shot back, a twitch in his eye showing his own pained reaction.
“A-Alastor? Are you okay? Did I do something?” You stammered out your concerns, seeing a line of his blackened blood drip from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it free before examining it on his thumb and letting out a scoff. He sighed, keeping his eyes off of you as he left your bed.
“Al, you're bleeding..! Maybe you should lay down, or.. or, I-I don't know-” You scrambled off your bed to follow him, taking a hold of the back of his coat to keep him from leaving. He spun on his heels, placing a hand on your shoulder.
“I'll be just fine. If you want my honesty, I seem to have made a minor error is all.” His voice was laced with static again, he ran his hand up your shoulder to your neck, then delicately kept your head lifted towards him by your jaw.
“W-What do you mean? Will you be okay?” You asked nervously. He seemed to be examining you, his eyes scanning over your entirety.
“I'll be fine. How are you feeling, love?” He sounded nervous, a shock to you.
Alastor did in fact make a mistake. In his attempt to rile Lucifer up just moments ago, he indirectly disclosed some information about your past. Charlie now knew what you were.
The deal was that Charlie wouldn't find out about your previous job and Alastor would do anything in his power to keep that from happening. In exchange, you owed him a favor. He doomed himself, really. The mention of your history with Lucifer and coaxing the lullaby from your drunken rambles, made Charlie connect the dots. With a poorly made deal, no written contacts, or souls on the line, some loopholes can cause the whole thing to fall through. But, Alastor's never had issues before, he's incredibly careful, even with the smallest exchanges.
The idea of him losing any composure and having it cost him, forced labored breaths from him. Now that Charlie knows, your owed favor is no longer valid. Your favor of staying away from the king. But now, that sickening barrier that had been surrounding you all this time was broken.
You didn't realize what it was, but you did feel that something was off. Like a headache that's been ignored for too long suddenly hitting you. You groan, running a hand through your hair and slipping away from Alastor's grasp. And you're not the only one who felt the deal break at that moment.
-
Lucifer could feel the environment in the hotel change. It was like a cool, refreshing breeze hit his face, finally clearing out a pesky scent that had been lingering since the hotel was refurbished. He assumed it was just due to the new renovations.. But after connecting this newfound clarity to the musk that's surrounded Alastor - surrounded you - since the extermination day battle, he was anxious to find you. He quietly muttered your name under his breath with wide eyes. Finally slipping from his seat, he rushed to your room immediately.
“Dad!” Charlie was one step ahead, standing up and blocking Lucifer who wasn't even trying to conceal his eager pursuit. He shrunk in front of her, finally realizing his wings had sprouted from his back and had swept a few bottles off the shelves. “What's going on? You've been acting strange ever since you moved in, and I'm-” Charlie was nervously fiddling with her hands, looking over to Vaggie for a reassuring smile. “-I'm worried. About you. And.. our guest..?” His eyes widened, fear running through his veins.
Charlie was smart. She may have the princess bleeding-heart thing going for her, but seeing you and him get along so well always made her the slightest bit uneasy in the back of her mind. After you started drinking more, going out on the town with Alastor again, and generally seeing Lucifer less, she realized something had happened. And this strange behavior from him wasn't helping your case.
“Charlie, don't worry! We’re friends! And I'm worried about her because of all the drinking and the.. uhh.. Anyway, no need to worry about that! I bet she’s fine now..! But I better head to bed, long night, just uh- really tired, yeeah.” He stammered through his words, throwing in a fake yawn, then leaping with the assistance of his wings to pat the crown of Charlie's head. He started off again, making sure to take his time and not cause another scene.
“Dad, wait!” With a frustrated groan, Charlie is left clutching her face in his hands. With a deep breath, she smooths her hair back and puts on a wry smile to face Vaggie. “I think he loves her, Vaggie.”
-
Spreading his wings as soon as he's out of view, he rushes to your room. It was so much easier to sense where you are now. How could he not notice? It felt like hundreds of memories were flooding back into his mind. Memories of passing you in the hallway while he ignored you, writing texts but never sending them, hearing you talk to him but never responding. He went from constantly longing for your presence, to just.. nothing. But now, it's all back. All the pining had finally erupted And he needed you- to see you- immediately.
“I'm sure you just drank a bit too much tonight, go on and rest and I'll be sure to-” Alastor couldn't even finish his sentence before your door was sprung open. You were sure the force broke your lock with its intensity.
Alastor panicked. You've never seen him panic before. He attempted to fade into his slimy shadows and slip through the darkest corner of the room, but Lucifer quickly put a stop to it, stomping his heel into the black trail before it could disappear. An ear-piercing screech came from all corners of the room. You gasped at the sight, watching Alastor materialize back to his usual self. He laid on your floor, clutching onto the almost forgotten wound on his chest that had been stressed by Lucifer's heel.
“Al!” You stumble off the bed and onto your knees, hovering your hands over him but not quite touching him, like you were nervous he’d break. You watched blood pool and stain his shirt as he hisses at the reopened slash. “Hey, hey, it's okay..! It's um- you'll be okay..!” Your shaky reassurance did little to ease his pain. If anything, he felt ridiculed. Another embarrassing defeat. You helped him at least sit up and lean his back against your dresser.
“Lucifer, what the fuck! what are you even doing in here?” You scolded, still seated at Alastor's side. You looked up at his demonic figure, your anger suddenly replaced with a suppressed and unwanted attraction. You shake your head of any longing thoughts. “He's hurt. You have to help him.” You say, finally breaking your strained eye contact.
Lucifer is cringing at the sight. You were seated close to Alastor's injured form, an arm around his back and a hand resting on his own, helping to compress the wound. You were wearing his sweater, your eyes brimming with tears at the sudden intrusion. Lucifer hated the way you were looking at Alastor, with concern and genuine worry. Lucifer looked into his hands as if he had blood on them. And if you weren't there, that certainly would've been the case.
With a deep breath, his horns, halo, wings, and tail all subdued, leaving a very disheveled Lucifer avoiding eye contact out of shame. He kneeled down, still slightly disgusted by the smell that lingered around the radio demon. Moving Alastor’s coat aside, he presses his clawed hands against the blood stain. He admittedly put more pressure than he needed to, but if he could cause him even the slightest discomfort right now, that would keep his bloodlust at bay. A golden light glistened from beneath his hand, forcing a hiss from Alastor's forced smile.
“Jeez, this wound is from an angelic attack.. a strong one too. What have you been up to, Bambi?” Lucifer tried his hardest to keep a light tone, but despite his casual words, his unenthused frown was very apparent.
“It was Adam. before you came to the battle, Al got hurt. Bad. I.. we all thought he was dead.” You explained softly. You seemed much more put together than before, the fear from this whole ordeal clearly sobered you up. Your lip quivered and you held in a shaky breath, that was only released when you felt Alastor hold your hand and squeeze it gently.
Was he doing this just to piss Lucifer off? Because it was working. Lucifer did his best to focus on his healing. It took a while to even stop the bleeding, but maybe he was doing that on purpose as well. Admittedly, he could have healed him with a snap of his fingers, even cleared that nasty scar, but he didn't. Alastor didn't deserve that in Lucifer's mind.
After just a few minutes, you were helping Alastor to sit up, and then eventually to his feet.
“Do you need to lay down? You can stay here tonight, I'll find somewhere else to sleep- or I can help you to your room if you need it..” you were shushed by his hand waving any assistance away.
“I'll be alright, love, no need to worry. I am a bit tired, though.. I wouldn't mind resting here for-” A whirring sound interrupts Alastor's words and draws both of your attention to a portal that leads into his room.
“..Right. Very helpful.” Alastor muttered, still using you as a brace as he approached the portal. He didn't need the help, he felt fantastic, actually. But he’s still having his fun, enjoying the pure jealousy coming from Lucifer. He lifts your hand and presses his usual subtle kiss onto your knuckles.
“You sure you'll be okay?” You ask softly, helping him step over the boundaries of the portal. He hums, then gives a quick nod. “And?” You add. He looks at you confused, before noticing your subtle nudging towards Lucifer. Alastor lets out a quiet groan and rolls his eyes.
“I suppose I owe you a thanks, your highness. Just watch your step in the future.” Alastor says smugly. Having seen more than enough of him tonight, Lucifer shuts the portal without another word.
The room is silent, but the air is clear. Lucifer breathes in, only catching the faintest musk of the sweater you were wrapping yourself in. It was still a relief. Reality hits him and he finally rushes towards you, his hands placed on your shoulders with a worried expression.
“Are you okay? Good golly, I missed you.. did he do anything to hurt you? How do you feel?” He questioned you frantically, scanning your entire body with his darting eyes, but you reeled away from his touch.
“What do you mean miss? We live under the same roof. You could have talked to me at any time if you just-” You let out a sigh, relieving some of the agitation in your tone.
“Thanks for helping Al.. And I guess I missed you, too. Wherever you’ve been.” You muster a smile that's more genuine than you were expecting. You didn't have the same ability to sense the deal or the repellent that Alastor had drenched you in all these months. So to you, Lucifer had gone from your closest friend to ignoring you, then suddenly attacking the only other demon who was comforting you. It was all so confusing. And he was about to make it worse.
With a quick motion, Lucifer had you pulled into an embrace. It was tight and comfortable. You could feel his hands flexing and tightening on your back and waist, his breath just grazing the base of your neck. You didn't pull away. Not yet. You would never admit how good this felt, how much you missed his arms around you. Lucifer shifted his position to cradle the back of your head, hastily and thoughtlessly pressing a kiss to your lips. With a surprised yelp, you shove him backward.
“No! This is too much! You can’t just waltz in here and save the day, and expect things to go back to how they were! If this was all just a fling, finishing off the mistake we made years ago, then you should've made that clear from the beginning!” Your voice started cracking with each statement, tears falling as you spoke. “You've done enough, Lucifer. Don't make this harder for me.” You look away, still avoiding his touch when he goes to swipe your tear-stained cheek.
“No! That's not what's happening at all! That prick did something to you, I'm just trying to-” He stops himself midsentence, seeing the startled look on your face from the sudden outburst. He steps away, clutching his hands in front of him. “I'm sorry, I-”
“No. You have to go, now. Before I change my mind.” You interrupt. He looks at you, slightly red in the face. With a final nod, he snaps a portal to his workshop and leaves your room silently. Falling to your knees, finally alone, your body only responded with quiet sobs. Too much had gone on for you to process the entire evening and you were in pain even attempting to do so. Before curling up in your bed, your radio was turned back on. Playing its usual tunes, you were at least calmed enough to drift to sleep.
-
Looking vacantly at his office, Lucifer sat down at his desk. He brushed his fingers against his lips, the inappropriately timed kiss from earlier suddenly hitting his consciousness. He let out an embarrassed groan into his hands. As he composed himself with a sigh, he noticed something strange. Smacking his lips together he finally recognized a foul taste in his mouth. It was his doing, Alastor’s scent, coming from your lips. The indirect sensation made it clear that Alastor had his hands on you in more ways than Lucifer had considered.
-
Another restless night went by, filled with its usual nightmares. You were woken up with your usual hangover and struggled to get ready for the day. As you dressed up, and went through your usual routine to prepare for the day, your memories of the previous night flooded your mind. You got drunk, then Alastor took you to your room, you kissed him, then Lucifer came and-
You kissed Alastor.
“Fuck!” You shouted to yourself, letting your head fall onto your vanity at the realization. You have got to stop doing that. The rest of the night came through afterward, Lucifer's sudden appearance and affection causing you even more distress. You swear, one more nuisance and you'll have a breakdown. A knock on your door, followed by it opening a crack, and forcing you to greet your intruder.
“Hey! Morning! Your lock is busted for some reason, buuut we can fix it, don't worry!” a cheerful Charlie enters your room, smiling nervously at you. You muster up your best smile and turn towards her.
“Morning, Charlie. What's got you all worked up today?” You ask casually, running your fingers through your hair, too lazy to thoroughly brush it. You could tell she was nervous, it was obvious to you.
“Well! About that.. I actually wanted to talk to you about.. my dad.” She spoke softly, you did your best to hide your sudden nerves, and nodded. “Right! Well- I can't believe I never realized or even asked where you used to work, but.. I remember you. When I was kid? I remember you were there with me, taking care of me-” She began to explain quickly and nervously, pacing your room. Your mind was racing with a relief that she finally knew, but also a fear of what was coming next. “I don't know, I was so young and it was so long ago, but I felt like we had fun, right? What.. What made you leave..? Did I do something wrong?”
It was so much more complicated than that. How do you explain to her what you've done? The very act that cost you a dream job, that haunts you with nightmares almost every night? She could see your mind swimming for answers, she watched you struggle for longer than she needed to.
“Was it my dad? Did he do something?” She sounded so serious. But clearly she was on the right path with your wide eyed reaction. “I'm so sorry if he did anything to upset you, you know how he can be… What did he-”
“Charlie, no.. You’re right, we all had so much fun together, and.. he was my best friend! And I-I made a mistake and I kissed him, and.. and Lillith saw and-” you finally let the floodgates down, making sure to leave out any reciprocated feelings that Lucifer may have had for you. That was his discussion to have. Charlie was silent. Even though you didn't tell her that things were mutual at some point, things started piecing together. She could tell you two had rekindled some sort of feelings for each other recently. “It's all my fault, Charlie, I never meant to hurt anyone. I loved him. It was a mistake..”
A sudden hand on your shoulder forced your eyes to meet hers. She was smiling. whether that meant she understood you or forgave you, it was one of your favorite sights. It always has been.
-
Lucifer paced around his workshop, figuring out how to keep that deer demon away from you, while also avoiding the conjured images of his lips against yours. Before he could react, he noticed the floor underneath him disappear. Falling directly into a suddenly conjured portal, he looked around, before realizing he was suddenly in the lobby. He was greeted by you and Charlie seated on the couch, a confrontation he’s been afraid of for years.
“Hi, dad..! I hope you weren’t doing anything important, I just needed to.. Talk to you..” With a snap of her fingers, the portal above his head vanished. She takes Lucifer by the shoulders and plops him down next to you on the couch. Can't have him running off again.
She’s struggling to get past her initial greeting. You take hold of her fidgeting hand and she seems startled at first, but your smile seems to calm her nerves for the moment. With a large inhale, everything that had been troubling Charlie finally erupted.
“I know you two have.. Some kind of history- Well, actually, I know exactly what kind of history- I know that you kissed her when she was my nanny and then she came to the hotel and didn’t tell me who she was! Still not super happy about that-” She interrupts her rambling to point out your mistakes, making you wince. “-Then! All of a sudden you two are friends? Again? Or.. something more, I guess! Then I noticed you haven’t been wearing your ring, you’re hauled up in your workshop all day, and whenever she’s around, you can’t keep your eyes off of her! And.. and that you’re more focused on her than this hotel! Than me!” The silence that followed her words were filled with nothing but her shaky breathing.
You and Lucifer were too stunned to speak. You took the time to examine Lucifer’s shriveling body language, seeing that he had in fact taken his wedding band off at some point. Charlie practiced this whole speech with you, but she seemed to run off the rails near the end there. Her words were harsh, but.. true. A relaxed sigh finally brings your attention back to Charlie.
“Dad, I know things weren’t great between you and Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore.. And… all I want is for you to be happy, but-” Lucifer has her wrapped in a tight hug before she can continue on.
“Charlie.. I am.. So sorry.” He waited for her to wrap her own arms around him, needing the comfort as much as she did. “You’re right. I haven’t had my priorities straight. I told you that i’ll support your dream, no matter what lies in store and I meant that.” He pulled her away, but only to wipe the absurd amount of tears that had fallen from her eyes. “I’m sorry things got so out of control. Think you can forgive me, sweetheart?” Charlie sniffled, with a small nod. They both turn to face you.
"Can you forgive me?" He asked. His eyes were so soft, still glistening with a few tears that had welled during his confrontation with his daughter. You couldn't help but get lost in them. Finally realizing he was waiting for an answer, you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing wanted to come out.
“I.. I don't know." Before either of the Morningstars could react accordingly, a familiar face interrupts the conversation.
“Now, now, don’t corner her! This is quite the dilemma, isn’t it, dear?” As he stands behind the couch reaching forward, you feel Alastor’s hand on your shoulder, yet he seems to be keeping his eyes on Charlie. “Oh, but how touching! What a great example of forgiveness! Quite commendable, Charlie!” Alastor slowly made his way around the couch as he spoke, trailing his talons across your shoulders before he went on to praise Charlie in this off-putting tone. Lucifer had his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his only annoyed demeanor, he was ready to snap at the slightest misstep.
“But- I don’t know if it’s that simple.. Would you really be able to consider redemption with your ties to the king?” Alastor adds. The three of you went silent, considering the possibility. You became nervous at the thought.
“I mean, m-maybe it doesn’t matter, I’ve still been doing all the exercises and-” Why were you trying to reason with him? Lucifer has done nothing but hurt you. He’s only shown you kindness just recently and even then, he had to confuse you with a damned kiss. Your reasoning didn’t last long, though.
“True! You’ve been making excellent progress, darling! You’ve just been an absolute pleasure to have around the hotel. You’re very.. Important to us here.” Alastor dares to lay another hand on you, bringing your pondering mind to his attention with the lightest tug of your chin to face him.
“Uh.. Thank you, I guess…” You respond, his grasp on your face causing your words to muffle. Lucifer was fuming. As soon as Alastor caught sight of his reaction, he tightened his grip for just a moment, before finally releasing your face.
“But! Your successful redemption could give us what we need to get those pesky angels' attention. Wouldn’t you agree?” He acted out a determined facade, now approaching Charlie and wrapping a hand around her shoulder.
“Sure, but..” Charlie nods along with what he’s saying, laughing nervously at the tension that’s accumulated.
“And you! I thought you, of all people, would know what has to be done to get their attention, your highness.” All eyes shot to Lucifer as soon as Alastor spoke out of turn.
“Watch it.” Lucifer growled under his breath, stepping away from the group.
“Haha.. Let’s just relax! Redemption is about saving souls, remember? The important thing is-” Charlie attempts to chime in, sensing that things are about to go very wrong.
“Do you want Charlie to succeed with her dreams? Or are you assuming she’ll simply give up? Like you did?” Alastor approached Lucifer, bending at his hips to meet his eyes and emphasize the insult he had just made.
“That’s it-” With a quick rolling of his sleeves, Lucifer lunged towards the radio demon, taking him down with ease. It's like he wasn't even trying to dodge the attack.. A crash into the nearest surface left a crack trailing up the wall, his hands rung around Alastor’s neck. Using his usual shadow tricks, he phased from underneath him, silking away. Lucifer quickly rose from the ground, his wings now encasing most of the room, he scanned the room for any sight of the shadowy being.
“What's wrong, your majesty? Worried about your little nanny? Will you miss her once she's redeemed?” His questioning came from all corners of the room, only enraging Lucifer more.
“Shut up!” With a growl, Lucifer surrounded the room in a white light. In that fit of rage, he succeeded in forcing Alastor out of the shadows, but momentarily lost his vision. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, Alastor was fast approaching, his own demonic form growing behind the fallen angel.
You covered your ears at the shouting, only to have your eyes blinded by the light. With all of your senses overwhelmed, and your heart racing, you scramble off the couch to avoid some debris coming your way. All you comprehend is Alastor lifting his arm, ready to essentially slash Lucifer into pieces before the room goes silent. Now only hearing the blood pumping in your ears, you lifted your head up to witness the end of this useless fight.
Charlie had put it all to an end. Her powerful arm had broken through her sleeve, and in its grasp.. something you’ve seen before, out on the streets of Hell. You’ve heard about these sorts of situations, but never witnessed anything like this. A glowing chain was fastened around Alastor’s neck, effectively yanking him away from the fight. The other end was held tightly in Charlie’s demonic fist. The silence was deafening. With Alastor on the ground, essentially leashed by Charlie, you instinctively slid behind Lucifer’s still-powerful appearance. He held his arm out to keep you behind him. Alastor coughed, gripping at the illuminated collar he wore.
“W-Well.. I should’ve known better, I have to admit. Maybe I've lost my touch... But I’m proud of you, Charlie. You’re finally showing some authority around here.” Alastor speaks up. His crumbling voice was weak, his static filter flickering with every other word. But the severity of his tone still sent a shiver down her spine.
“Charlie?” She looked over to her father, more concerned for her than anything. But seeing your face not far behind, seeing your fear, the realization hit her. She let out a weak gasp, her arm returning to normal and the chain fading into nothing but a reminder of a binding contract.
“Charlie.. What did you do?”
♡♡♡
I hope it was worth the wait! ;)
Part 5 is in the works 🙏
!Taglist!
( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest )
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel fandom#lucifer hazbin#lucifer magne#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fan fiction#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x you
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let's get lost in ikea | sungho
— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event!
೫ pairing: bf sungho and reader
೫ summary: what it would be like to go to ikea with your lovely boyfriend, sungho!!
೫ genre/word count: fluff and sweet romance! 399 words
೫ author’s note: arghhh i love ikea so much 😭 this was honestly so fun! sungho is really in love with you in this one btw
navigating ikea
୨୧ there are those arrows on the floor that he could follow, but if you don’t want to take the normal path, then he won’t either!
୨�� happily holds hands with you the entire time! he’s worried he’ll turn around and you won’t be next to him :( ikea is a massive store too, so he probably prefers you to be right next to him
୨୧ along with this, he doesn’t mind if you tug him excitedly to look at something! he simply laughs to himself at how cute you are and indulges you
୨୧ firmly believe he would stop to look at various things that he’d want in his dorm (i.e. getting a record holder for taesan or maybe a comfy pillow for riwoo)
୨୧ you walk around aimlessly, however, your real destination in mind are the accessories and the food court! which leads right into the shopping aspect of an ikea date
shopping & eating
୨୧ accessories! specifically, the blue bucket hats. he gets two of them so that you can match <3 esp when you wear it when you come to see him after practice!! buys the plushies too! you both make sure to get a shark for leehan and smth for the other members!
୨୧ goes to the food court line and you both order the iconic meatballs! also orders one slice of cake for the two of you to share :(
୨୧ gets a table overlooking the scenery outside! thinks that the flowers look just as gorgeous as you!! loves how the sun lightly hits your face, making you glow as you shove a bite of cake into your mouth
picture-taking
୨୧ he most definitely will pose for selcas with you! posts the ones you take on twitter and insta! he also puts the ones with both of you on his story
୨୧ loves and ultimately finds it cute that you do poses on the various pieces of furniture! thinks you look stunning in your outfit as you lean against the wall, laughing! he tries so hard to take serious pictures of you but can't help laughing with you, so most of your pictures come out blurry :((
overall experience
୨୧ probably the best date he's ever taken you on! most likely he would take you again but for a cute photoshoot!! he loves you sm and keeps the printed pictures in his wallet! overall, an exhausting day full of fun and just enjoying being with each other <3 knows you get tired, so he lets you sleep in the car on the way home! lets you use his jacket as a pillow :(
#laur’s thoughts 🧚🏼♀️#laur’s valentine 💌#bnd imagines#boynextdoor imagines#bnd fluff#bnd x reader#bnd scenarios#boynextdoor fluff#boynextdoor scenarios#boynextdoor sungho#boynextdoor x reader
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I have read some of your long and comprehensive meta on symptoms of lycantrophy, but this is more of a headcanon question:
Remus suggests Bill might have some “wolfish traits” after his attacks. Could werewolves in their human form have enhanced sense of smell or hearing, or immunity for some water borne diseases, or other “wolfish traits”?
Would they be immune to Polyjuice just like Hagrid? Could they be immune to other potions and poisons? Or even spells or curses?
There’s also the moon factor - some people attribute Remus peakiness to the dread he feels before every transformation, some to the “pull of the moon”. So much to explore.
What I sense is that people are trying to give an overlooked side to lycantrophy that might not be that bad or painful, and sometimes I rather like that.
I’ve read some interesting works (some good some bad) that indicated that lycanthropes carry a magic of their own, more intuitive and primal. Personally, I find that exciting to explore, as the myth of the werewolf is really ancient and could be linked to some really cool lore. I also like the idea that shouting latin words and shooting sparks from a wand is only one way of doing things, and that magic itself can be manifested in more mysterious ways that prejudiced, self-important wizards don’t bother to explore.
Half my opinion and half asking for yours, the lycanthrope expert! Beyond uncomfortable pathological symptoms, how do you think the biology of a non transformed werewolf might change?
Thanks for reading my ramblings B^) I'm gonna engage with everything you brought up because thats what I feel like doing, its really really fun to talk HCs and theories
WEREWOLF HCs AND THEORIES
Like... 2000 words or something idk
The Moons Effect My theory is that symptoms are caused not by the Full Moon itself but a culmination of magic the moon puts into the atmosphere, getting stronger through the month until the Werewolf 'pops'.
You don't need to be touched by the Full Moonlight to transform, it happens regardless of where you hide... so it's in the air.
Yet Remus seems to be triggered by Moonlight when nobody expected him to be in PoA. (Part 3 is my theory on that in more detail.)
When they get symptoms before the Full Moon, even during the day, its like something is building up in them.
Their Lycanthropy (Dark Magic curse or Virus or both… perhaps a Virus with its own magic?) seems to feed on the Moon's energy.
I'm sure Remus feels dread before his Full Moon, but I think his peakiness is more than that. I doubt someone like Fenrir would feel that dread - but still has recognizable symptoms pre-Full Moon by Lyall (according to the 'Remus Lupin' Pottermore page)
'Pull of the Moon' is a good phrase. I like that. The moon is getting stronger and their Lycanthropy is responding in their cells, affecting them physically, preparing…
What are 'Wolfish Traits' in canon...? It is SO FRUSTRATING we don't hear more of this, ONLY that Bill likes his steak bloody. The story is teasing me. Leading me on. REMUS WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'WOLFISH TRAITS' DARLING PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HANGING YOU FUCKING FLIRT
Remus is not ''obviously'' a werewolf. He puts a lot of work into that. Whenever people have worked him out (James/Sirius, Snape, Hermione) it has been based on his disappearances, not on how he looks or acts otherwise.
+ There are vague symptoms pre-Full Moon (as Harry notices in a memory and that Lyall Pottermore thing), + Weakness and loss of weight post-Full Moon (though that could be directly tied to exhaustion from transforming) + And of course - the transformation itself. The psychotic break of becoming a violent bite-hungry wolf. ...Thats it. Thats is all we know about what traits are definitely caused by Lycanthropy.
I can only assume Bill goes through some minor version of this: Maybe he feels a bit off around the Full Moon. Maybe he gets a bit hairy, maybe the moon gives him insomnia and a bad mood… ...I like to think so. As you said - sometimes its nice to think about over-looked sides of Lycanthropy that aren't 'as bad'.
After all, while still horrible, the Full Moon isn't the most major 'disabling' trait Remus suffers. Sometimes he even LIKES the transformation. No, the worst symptom... Is probably the fatigue. Even on Wolfsbane he needs multiple days off work, feeling too horrible to show up for Christmas lunch. The thing that stops him from working, that reveals what he is to a bigoted society, extending beyond a night of delirium and pain into days of suffering… are his 'less bad' symptoms. (That's something often overlook with disabilities: it's often not the loudest symptom that are the biggest problem - but the management of them, the complications of it, side effects from treatments, poor mental health from dealing with it physically and socially... I love you Remus Lupin)
Potential Wolfish Traits There is no evidence that, even transformed, Werewolves have heightened senses. Pottermore says their eyes and snouts are 'more human' than a True Wolf - though that doesn't like… mean much. They could still have wolf-like smell and night vision and stuff. Or they could not. Apparently Muggle and Wizard blood tastes different - whether that is Lycanthropic instinct, heightened taste/smell or sensing magic… who knows.
In any case, I don't think in Human form they do. If Remus had heightened senses he could surely have smelled Scabbers. He could have smelled Padfoot. If heightened senses are a known trait then surely Remus could be sent out to pick up Sirius' scent and track him. (unless it isn't quite strong enough for that...)
In terms of fun HC - I do like it. B^) + I like the idea of Remus being able to hear people approach his office from further away, so he is always prepared. + I like the idea of him being not-so-good at potions because the smells are overwhelming. + I like the idea of him, and all Werewolves, being more active in the dark without Lumos because they can see better. Sneaky.
We get hints that there are 'Wolfish traits' one can tell a Werewolf by, even when in Human form… and I like the idea of them being subtle habits. Or you just blow a dog whistle and they flinch.
There's more evidence against this than for it, though. I don't think it is canon… but it is fun :) In any case it would most likely get stronger around the Full Moon and weaken by New Moon, as all his symptoms do.
THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT MIGHT HAVE SOME CANON MERIT THOUGH: Magical resilience; Physical dexterity/strength; Healing; Greying.
Fenrir seems to take more powerful magical hits. Maybe he's just a badass. (He is. Punk grandpa is an icon tbh.)
Fenrir can run FAST on four legs in his Human form. Normally people run kinda slow and awkwardly on four legs. Added strength and flexibility from Lycanthropy...? Perhaps he's just a REALLY intense furry and has trained meticulously. No shade - that's impressive
Remus was attacked around the neck and clawed at by Sirius Black, enough to scare him off from a bunch of human prey - but shows no injury the next day. Maybe Sirius didn't break skin. Maybe accelerated healing is just a Transformation thing. Maybe... Lycanthropy wants to help keep it's host alive.
What do Remus and Fenrir have in common...? Grey hair. What colour is werewolf fur? Grey. Could this just be that Fenrir is old/used to be stressed, and Remus is so stressed now that he is going grey? Yes. But honestly if most werewolves go grey early from the stress of life... that's kinda a symptom by itself anyway.
4. Polyjuice Polyjuice is a dangerous potion - as we saw with Hermione. Cat fur messed her form up and prevented her from shifting back easily, because it was a different animal. It seems the only way to cleanly shift your physical appearance is with 'matching' species DNA or whatever.
Hagrid would be the same: he is a different animal. If Hermione became part-cat when she had cat fur and got stuck… I think if someone had Hagrid's hair they would become part-half-giant and get stuck. (same for Hagrid into a full-human, his Giant genes wouldn't know what to do.)
Remus is full-human. I don't think there would be any issue.
Whether or not someone disguised as him would have Lycanthropy symptoms… I'm not sure, but I don't think so. The potion takes into account physical damage and deformities. It copied Harry's eyesight, Alastor's amputation and disfigurements… but copying an infection? If you took hair from someone who had the Flu, would you feel the Flu when you turned into them?
I don't think so - because things like infection and viruses are living creatures in their own right. Like you wouldn't sprout head lice if you turned into a kid with head lice. (Whether virus' are 'alive' is debated a bit, though I see no reason not to consider them alive just because they need to be parasitic to cells to function.)
If Lycanthropy is more like a curse than alive - does a curse transfer through Polyjuice? I doubt it. No curse on Alastor is injested by Barty through his hair. Magic is very intent-based, and the intent of Lycanthropy is spit-to-blood.
Also I just think its more interesting if, like personality and habits, you had to pretend to be sick to pass at the person you disguise as.
HOWEVER - if you took werewolf FUR… Polyjuice takes into account ones current physical state, right? Remus' physical state changes dramatically, painfully, magically - into a wolf-like creature.
A change has happened that is different to what a non-infected human can experiences. Taking werewolf fur, I think, would result in a cat-Hermione that gets stuck in a non-human shape. Same with Animagus fur/feathers/etc: they are humans, but they are in a shape and size that is not what a human that hasn't magically trained their body through the procedure can mimic.
The question I want answered is whether Minerva can have cat-fur Polyjuice and turn into a different looking cat. She's on the registry as a tabby, so she sneaks around disguised as a Calico…
Wolf Magic Magic isn't just latin words and wand sparks. Wands are a European thing - they aren't used much in Africa etc, where they use their hands more. We even see that, as a Wizard becomes more skilled, they don't need to say anything. Wandless magic is advanced. it seems wand movements, words and even wands themselves are just tools to aid in learning, to focus ones magic.
You can follow a recipe to bake a cake - but if you're good at baking, you can just throw that shit together, experiment on the fly.
Since Werewolves are a very old phenomenon with a magical root - whether that be some ancient curse, or Lycanthropy is some sort of magical creature virus - magic only available to Werewolves sounds pretty cool.
I don't like how it further differentiates werewolves from other humans, because the theme is that they ARE humans like everyone else and are being treated as 'other'. I wouldn't want to make them superheroes by accident, yknow?
But like… there's a million cool ways to take werewolf magic. I like the idea of utilizing the magic within the virus/curse itself. It's evidently incredibly powerful, physical, draws and stores energy from the moon, using a human as its puppet to spread itself... What if there were ways to utilize parts of that…? A symbiotic relationship with ones parasite, for better or for worse?
6. Biological changes of a Werewolf - headcanons B^)
I'm a big fan of the idea that Remus is living unhealthily by stifling his Lycanthropy while Fenrir is living healthy by indulging it. Remus is thin, pale, bags under his eyes - despite being young. Fenrir is rangy, tall, heavy, strong - despite being older.
It is a negative experience to take Wolfsbane and stifle the transformation - it is a positive experience to run around with Animagus friends and embrace it.
Lycanthropy is a severe thing. Once a month, EVERY month, you go through a complete physical change. It is painful to endure, you get into fights or self-harm - and Remus at least comes out thinner. There's no way that doesn't do anything. Especially as you get older.
So, my HC, is that Remus - being unhealthy - gets a lot of aches and pains. His body doesn't transform well. + He doesn't eat enough because he wants to be as weak as possible. It's safer. + His fatigue afterwards is worse. His small bones like his fingers sometimes don't set right, costing him more in potions... unless he just puts up with it. + His Wolfish-Form looks like shit. Patchy fur, thin, always panting... + He looks a little wonky from a childhood spent transforming every month - on less food than he should have had. Like he is on the short-average side, but has a stretched spine that makes him look a little taller. Nothing much visually - but can give him joint pain.
Fenrir DELIGHTS in his form. I don't think he has aches or pains much at all - his body transforms well. He encourages it so much, as he gets older, it's leaking into his Human form. + He is described as having 'whiskers' - and I take that literally. Nobody else has their facial hair described in that way, and he is a hairy man with long unkempt hair - he aint shaving... and somehow I doubt he has a patchy enough beard to be called 'whiskers'. I kinda think he straight up has whiskers. + Hairy. He has enough hair to be called fur. + Wolfish form is epic. Strong, noble, heavy, vicious, huge... + I can accept he sharpens his nails - but his teeth? He sharpens his teeth? I think they're natural, because sharpening teeth makes them weaker. His body is getting used to biting outside the Full Moon. + His fatigue afterwards is better than most, but his pre-Full Moon symptoms are stronger, his body AMPED UP in anticipation. + His body is more flexible, more used to different movements, that biting, scratching, prowling, walking on four limbs... its easier. + His voice is ravaged. A unique coarse, rough, barking voice.
Fenrir is a chad who can chase down a rabbit on all fours and catch it in his teeth - while Remus grunts a few times trying to tie his laces. Fenrir shows the signs of his Lycanthopy outwardly as he gets older, while Remus shows them internally as he fails to look after himself.
Regardless of how 'healthy' a werewolf is: + Snarling, growling, whining... all something you get used to. Deep chesty rumbles. A few years of being a werewolf and you're so practiced at it it's second nature. Fenrir embraces it - Remus takes careful control of his emotions so he NEVER slips up. + Hairier in general. Even Remus. They just have more body hair. Because I am biased towards typically masculine traits? Yes. + The bloody meat thing. A heightened desire for protein, better at tasting different things in meat and blood. Safer to eat, too.
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I'll Follow You Until You Love Me
pairing: Armand x Daniel Molloy
summary: Daniel is tired of his stalker, hiding in the shadows. So he does something to get his attention.
warnings: 18+, MDNI, male mutual masturbation?, Armand being a underwear thief, mentions of stalking, some cum play? I think that's it.
wc: 865
notes: this is my first time writing for IWTV, I apologize if it sucks. I'm still new at this. haha! btw this was inspired by Lady Gaga's Paparazzi so pls give it a listen.
Daniel found himself quite exhausted as soon as a cab dropped him off at the nearest and cheapest motel.
If there was one thing else he needed the most besides some well needed shut eye, it was a hot shower after traveling for eight hours straight from Tucson to Los Angeles.
Not only did Daniel need to shower off the smell of public transportation but to overall unwind.
He muttered a grateful thanks to whatever God that bestowed upon him functioning hot water and a clean towel. Well at least Daniel thought it was clean. However, as tired as he was, he couldn’t care less if it wasn’t.
After traveling through every state of the country, he found that most cheap motels didn’t offer anything but a bed. Some even didn’t include a bathroom and Daniel had no choice but to walk to the nearest convenience store simply just to pee.
Daniel acknowledged that he could just whip out his dick near a corner and piss. Quite frankly, it wasn’t in his nature to do that. No matter how bad he had to piss, he would hold it until there was a bathroom.
After his shower, Daniel wrapped a towel around his hips, walking to his suitcase near the entrance about to grab a pair of clean boxers when his hand met nothing but denim and linen.
Odd.
“What the fuck?” Daniel cursed as he spilled his clothes all over the bed. His shirts, pants, and socks were there. However there was no sign of his undergarments and Daniel was one hundred percent positive he did not leave anything behind in Tucson.
Maybe in his panicked state, running from his obsessive stalker, he overlooked packing them.
Daniel was careless but not that careless.
For a moment he thought about calling the motel back in Tucson as silly it was. Though, there was a fat chance he’d likely get them back.
Great, so commando it is.
He unwrapped the towel around his hips, throwing it somewhere across the room, preparing to sleep fully in his birthday suit. Until he heard a low growl coming from his window.
It didn’t take Daniel long to figure out who those animalistic growls belonged to.
He was here.
Right on schedule.
No matter where Daniel went, he was always there. Lingering behind the shadows with those creepy orange eyes.
Honestly, it was getting quite tiring that he couldn’t fully show himself. He had been following him for years and not once had he come out to say anything which made it more creepier than stalking him.
Of course Daniel was frightened in the beginning but around the ten month mark, he realized he wasn’t a threat.
A part of Daniel wondered why he was following him out of all the others he possibly could. What made him so fascinating? So captivating?
After some consideration, Daniel knew of something that might make him come out of the shadows. It was crazy yet worth a try.
Daniel laid on the bed, positioning his body in front of the window right where he knew he was lurking and observing.
He spat on his palm before rubbing his already hard-on. A whimper came from the window and Daniel bit his lower lip to hide the slight smirk of satisfaction.
He shuddered when he gave himself a hard squeeze from base to his glistening tip, releasing some soft moans he hoped he could hear behind the glass that separated them.
By all means, not only could Armand definitely hear the sounds of self pleasure but also the echo of his heart pumping wildly. His beautiful boy craving some release he desperately yearned to gift him with.
And it took everything in Armand not to break the window and claim his body, heart and individuality as his right fucking now.
Gods, he was beautiful.
His eyes.
His smile.
His aura.
Him.
Only him.
Watching his beautiful boy pleasure himself made him absolutely hard. Armand’s fingers slid to unbutton his trousers, freeing his tall erection and carefully beginning to stroke himself at the same pace his beautiful boy moved in.
Daniel’s gaze fixated to where he stood. Staring straight into those creepy eyes of his as he was nearing his end. He was close, so goddamn close he could feel the small waves of euphoria slithering in at the bottom of his spine.
“Fuck, I’m almost there.”
Armand groaned as he continued to stroke faster and faster until finally his beautiful boy let out a drawn out moan, coating his sheets full of his release that soon when he fell asleep, Armand would have a taste of.
He already kept his undergarments while he slept, so there was nothing wrong with that.
Daniel basked in his release, continuing to watch the silhouette of his body writhe in what he assumed was self pleasure.
Though, he assumed right as he heard low feeble whimpers closer to the window.
He had come too.
That alone made Daniel feel more aphrodisiacal. He waited a few more moments before he loudly declared:
“Well are you just gonna stand there? Or are you going to fuck me?”
Armand had done just that.
tagging my bestie @dreaming-for-an-escape
#iwtv#amc iwtv#daniel molloy#Armand#vampire armand#armand x daniel#one shot#interview with the vampire 2022
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Imagine Drunken Kisses With Connor and Murphy MacManus
Rating: T+
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, bars, fluffy and steamy drunk kisses
(A/N:) Happy St. Patrick’s Day! It’s been soooo long, honestly too long since I’ve written these two cuties! But I’m back and this was just self indulgence on my part! XD So hopefully my fellow MacManus fangirls will enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also I am terrible at writing Irish talk so forgive me and overlook it! *hides face* Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
Connor MacManus X FemReader
Connor had promised early that morning that he wasn’t going to be home until late. He had begged for weeks for you to be able to take off and enjoy St. Patrick’s Day with him, but with two employees quitting and an understaffed crew there was no way for you to get the day off. His tradition of bar hopping had to go on without you. So while you worked the day away, Connor tried to enjoy time with his twin brother. Before you had come along, Murphy had always been enough to enjoy the annual festivities but now they both had grown so attached to you, it just wasn’t the same without you. Especially when they knew that you were stuck working and had no chances to leave until the work day was over.
With one last push you finished your day and started home. It was too late to meet up with Connor so you stopped by the local restaurant close to your home to grab something to eat. Though you probably wouldn’t see him, you were glad that Connor was out there enjoying himself. You could make do with something tasty for supper and a good movie on the TV. You watched the city bustle as you continued on your walk home, humming a cheery tune as the streetlamps began to illuminate the streets one by one. This was always your favorite time of the day, everything seemed so peaceful as employees from all over were making their ways home and restaurants were lively with customers after a hard day at the office. It made you feel a part of the festivities when you sung a little bit of an Irish tune that was playing from the speakers of one of the local bars. Connor had taught you a few songs, though you had to cringe every time you tried as you butchered the lyrics. He would always just laugh and encourage you onwards before rewarding your attempts with little kisses.
You didn’t worry about him or think about him cheating on you, cause Connor never gave you a reason to think about such things. So you were able to enjoy the peace and quiet of your house before it was time for bed. You could still hear the lively streets outside as you laid there in the dark. It made you giggle at the thought of how many people would be calling in to work in the morning due to horrible hangovers. Connor and Murphy were definitely going to be two of them in the hoard of hungover celebrators. Exhaustion from your long day made sleep easy to find and as soon as your head hit the pillow you were out like a light.
You didn’t know what time it was when you felt the bed dip down, your heart jumped in your chest as you feared that someone had broke in. That wasn’t far from the truth as Connor’s drunken humming filled the room. You hadn’t given him a key to your apartment just yet but if he wanted inside bad enough he would find a way.
“Connor,” you yawned.
“Aye,” he grunted while pulling off his boots.
“Why are you here? I have to work in the morning.”
“Murph gettin’ on m’ nerv’s I needed a place t’ stay f’r th’ night,” Connor slurred a little bit before he finally got his last boot tugged off. He chucked it across the room in frustration as if it had offended his heritage.
“Not so loud,” you gave him a gentle whack on the shoulder.
“S’rry.”
Once he settled down you started to drift off asleep again. You groaned in protest when an arm encircled your waist pulling you into Connor’s chest. You liked your room dark when it came to sleeping so you couldn’t even see the hand in front of your face if you wanted to. So you couldn’t see Connor as he nuzzled into the back of your neck, his presence becoming more intoxicating by the second. He lazily pushed your hair out of his way to expose your skin. He began to kiss slowly, his five o’ clock shadow brushing against you causing you to shiver. He moved upwards going to the side of your neck, before moving to the bottom of your jaw, and then your cheek.
“Connor,” you squeaked.
“Mmm?”
“What are you doing?”
“Kissin’ ya,” he purred moving your face towards him. You still couldn’t see him and besides hearing the hammering of your heart you could hear a drunk man singing in the streets. You wanted to sleep and get ready for your day tomorrow but now all you could think about was Connor when his lips covered yours. He still tasted of the booze he had consumed all day and it was making him a little sloppy as he moved slowly against you. You could easily keep up despite being exhausted, as you were sober. You found yourself becoming quickly intoxicated by him though as the kiss seemed never ending. Finally Connor pulled away stroking your cheek before he finally passed out. You snorted as his snores now filled the room as your heart still hammered violently against your chest.
Murphy MacManus X FemReader
As St. Patrick’s Day loomed over the horizon, you and the other bartenders employed at the local establishment had used all week to prepare. Everyone was expecting large numbers of people that were going to be out to celebrate the holiday. The MacManus brothers were definitely going to be two in that crowd of people as they had warned you as such. You had been dating Murphy for some time but you both really didn’t get to do a lot together as majority of the time you were working. And despite him wanting to enjoy celebrating with you on the other side of the bar, it was just too much to ask to take the day off as your boss wanted to be prepared for the large number of customers. Booze littered every part of the backroom and behind the bar as you and the other tenders were loaded and prepared for the rush.
You were losing track of time as you filled glass after glass of whatever your customers wanted. You were certain you had removed a record of bottle caps in just this night alone. You had spotted Connor and Murphy come through the door but you couldn’t manage more than a wave towards them, which they returned but you didn’t see as another order took your attention away. You were losing stamina as the night continued on and on with no break in sight. You were given small breaks but they weren’t long enough as everyone was getting overwhelmed with keeping up without you. So tirelessly you worked and worked wanting to make this as fun as you could for all the celebrators.
One celebrator was not very happy at all as he sat at a table with his older brother, nursing another beer that he didn’t know the number of at this point. Empty shot glasses littered around him but still he glared at the bar and the many men surrounding you.
“Wha’s th’ look f’r Murph,” Connor slurred a little wobbly in his seat.
“Not’in’,” Murphy growled still glaring holes in the bar. But most of his wrath was towards the man talking to you and making you laugh.
“Sure don’ look like not’in’ t’ me.”
“Min’ ya bus’ness,” he warned. Connor shook his head while chuckling into his beer.
Finally the rush hour died down and you were able to finally get a break that you needed all night. You wiped your hands on the apron tied around your waist and wiped the sweat from your brow. You didn’t realize how many people wanted the excuse to drink in abundance this night. You didn’t even have a chance to talk to the twins, other than the few times you were able to fill their glasses or hand them another bottle. You were sure Murphy would be in a bad mood by the lack of attention, but it wasn’t like you had done it on purpose. You decided to go find them if they were even still around and appease him. You had just pushed yourself from the wall to go find them when a hand grabbed your arm and pushed you back into the wall. You opened your mouth, ready to give the person in front of you a piece of your mind when Murphy’s face came into your vision. You snapped your mouth closed as you took in his bleary eyes and staggering body.
“Sorry Murph,” you apologized, “it’s been so busy tonight I really wanted to see you and Connor more.”
You didn’t get to say anything else before Murphy took your lips, kissing you roughly, his tongue entering your mouth as you could do nothing but stand there in shock. You tried kissing him back but he was so messy and drunk that you couldn’t find a rhyme or reason in the rhythm of his movements.
“Don’ t’lk about m’ bro’her,” he grunted finally releasing you and leaving you breathless.
You laughed cupping his cheek, “Sorry.”
You kissed him softly, hoping to show him that you still loved him. You wish you could have enjoyed the night drinking with him but instead you were making other’s nights enjoyable while Murphy had sat around and pouted. You wanted to make it up to him and Connor as you moved them up to the bar and entertained them the rest of the night with all the tricks you had learned just for this occasion. You also knew if you got Murphy drunk enough he wouldn’t be so cranky. Despite the holiday being crazy there’s no part of you that hated St. Patrick’s Day as it brought your two favorite people in your life into the little bar you worked at and stay for hours. No complaints would be uttered on your lips as you cracked open two more bottles and set them before the MacManus brothers ready to continue on no matter what came.
#Connor MacManus X Reader#Connor MacManus / Reader#Murphy MacManus X Reader#Murphy MacManus / Reader#The Boondock Saints#Connor MacManus#Murphy Macmanus#The Boondock Saints Imagine#Imagine#Not My Gif#My Writing
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A/N: Once again, a tiny idea morphed into a much longer than intended fic. Enjoy the angst!
***
Relapse
Kensi had learned after Deeks was tortured by Sidorov that in addition to withdrawing from everyone around him when he was in a state of distress, he forgot to take care of himself as well. It had taken her a while to pick up on the pattern, but now, especially after living together for three years, she knew all the signs. He tended not to eat often enough, his meticulous cleaning schedule became disrupted, and he either barely moved at all, or spent hours exhausting his body in an attempt to quiet his mind.
So one week in the middle of summer when Kensi noticed the counters hadn’t been wiped down in a few days, and the laundry hamper was nearing capacity—something that never occurred since they moved in together—she took note. It wasn’t a cause for massive alarm, but enough that she decided to keep a close eye on Deeks. They’d just come off a horrific case that lasted over three weeks and had them all running on fumes.
Maybe he just needed the time to recuperate, she reasoned. She’d certainly been on edge and snapped at everyone more than usual, including Deeks, who had the misfortune of spending their few hours away from work with her.
On Tuesday, they had a fairly slow day, the latter part of which they spent cleaning out in-boxes and catching up on the procedures that got overlooked during intense cases. It gave them a much needed opportunity to bond and unwind.
Inevitably, Sam and Callen ended up in argument over who had actually taken down their most recent criminal.
“Nope, I definitely reached him before you did,” Callen insisted in that tone that meant he was just arguing for the joy of watching Sam grow more irritated. Kensi dipped her head to conceal a smile.
“Are you kidding me? You weren’t even close. He’d still be on the run if we left it to you,” Sam objected, shaking his head in exasperation.
“I don’t know, Sam, Deeks is the one who distracted him,” Kensi pointed out. She waited expectantly for Deeks to jump in with his own comment, but none came.
Kensi realized he’d been quiet through most of the teasing and banter, when normally he’d be egging Sam right alongside Callen. His body was turned slightly away, gaze focused in the direction of the back wall. She wondered if he saw anything at all.
The silence grew long enough for it grow slightly awkward, and Kensi hastily added, “I’m just saying it’s a group effort.”
“Yeah, you can keep your “group effort”, Sam made air quotes around the last two words. “I’m the one who tackled him, and that’s all that matters.” He jabbed a button on his laptop keyboard. “And I’m outta here. Don’t even think of calling me before 6 tomorrow morning.”
Callen left shortly after Sam, followed by Eric and Nell, who seemed in a hurry.
“You want to grab tacos on the way home?” she asked once she finished her own paperwork, leaning across the front of Deeks’ desk. “I’ll buy.” She let her tone drop flirtatiously, shimmying her shoulders.
“Uh, I’m really behind on my LAPD paperwork,” Deeks answered without looking up. “I think I’m going to stay a little bit later.”
“This is the first night we’ve gotten out before 7 in weeks.”
Finally looking up, Deeks sighed heavily, swiping his hair out of his eyes with a careless hand. Even in the dim light, she could tell his eyes were bloodshot.
“I know. LAPD will get on my case if I wait any longer though. I’ll just be a couple hours, ok?” He gave her a pleading, regretful look, that Kensi was powerless to ignore.
“Ok.” She leaned closer, tipping his chin a little higher to kiss him. “Don’t be too long,” she said.
“I won’t,” Deeks promised, returning her kiss with a brush of his lips. “Love you.”
***
It was a full four hours later when Kensi heard the front quietly open and shut. She’d tried not to wait up, even going to bed, but too many thoughts and worries circled through her brain to get anywhere close to sleep. She tracked Deeks’ movement through the house; he stopped in the kitchen, got a glass of water, checked on Monty in the living room, then finally headed to their room.
Kensi rolled over onto her side when he walked in, knowing there wasn’t any point in pretending to sleep. Deeks stood by the closet, taking off his shoes.
“Hey,” she murmured. He stilled at the sound of her voice, shoulders caving for a second before he turned around.
“Hey. Sorry.”
She didn’t know if he was apologizing for possibly waking her. Or coming home late.
“It’s ok.” Holding out her hand, she waited until he was within reaching distance, and pushed herself up enough to slide her hand around his neck. He let her pull him down, releasing a slightly pained noise. Kensi slid her fingers up into his hair, finding the strands damp.
She didn’t call him on it, just holding him tighter when their lips parted. She felt the tension in his shoulders and back, so tight it seemed he might snap at any moment.
“Come to bed,” she told him, pulling back the covers. When Deeks slid in beside her, she curled around him, hoping took some comfort in her touch.
***
Kensi’s worry skyrocketed as she watched Deeks withdraw more every day. This time around, he tended towards movement, which meant he either woke up early (assuming he’d slept at all) or stayed after work to work out. At the same time, his appetite seemed to have disappeared.
She tried to combat it all by bringing him a donut in the morning or cajoling him into bed and doing her best to soothe him to sleep. It wasn’t enough, but she was hesitant to push too hard.
“Hey, I brought you some soup,” she said one evening as she came back from a food run. Deeks had very noticeably not requested anything.
“I’m not hungry,” he said, not even pausing considering the bucket she plunked down in front of him.
“Baby, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning. It’s after six. You need to have something.”
“Kens—”
“No,” Kensi interrupted sharply, forgetting her decision to remain quietly supportive, to say nothing. “You are tired, you’re not eating, you’re not talking, and I am done letting you fade right in front of me.”
His head sank forward for a moment, and he rubbed his hands over his face, emitting the deepest of sighs. When he looked up again, the shadows in his eyes were even darker, and Kensi’s heart clenched painfully for him.
“I’m just struggling a little right now. I’ll get over it,” he insisted dully. “I always do.”
“You don’t have to do it alone though. You have me,” Kensi reminded him, moving around his desk to crouch in front of him. She grabbed his hands, clasping them between hers. “Let me help you.”
“I want to…” he shook his head, tilting his head back with a sorrowful expression. “It just feels like everything terrible feeling is amplified by a hundred and anything good is dampened.” He smiled sadly. “Only thing that helps sometimes is when you’re holding me at night.”
“I’ll do anything you need, anything. But please don’t push me away. I can’t bear that.”
“I’ll try.” He nodded, eyes damp. Kensi drew his forehead to her shoulder, weaving her fingers into his hair.
“And eat your soup.”
That got a weak out laugh out of him. Drawing back, he grabbed the tub across his desk, popping the lid off.
Kensi knew that one meal wouldn’t magically fix everything, but as he slowly worked his way through the soup, it was a step the right direction.
Under the table, Deeks reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly.
#ncis la fanfiction#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#emotional whump#Deeks whump#supportive Kensi#angst#ejzah fanfiction
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i'm curious,what way you ship Tyzula 👀
I’m glad you asked! I really do like this ship and exploring the dynamic. The short answer is that I think they definitely had feelings for each other in childhood, but ultimately the relationship becomes mutually toxic and is something Azula needs to let go of as part of her journey to true healing. So I see Azula’s relationship with Ty Lee as an important part of her story, but not the end, if that makes sense.
I mean, there is clear attraction here:
And I’m pretty sure Ty Lee is the only person Azula genuinely apologizes to:
Like, there are definitely some strong feelings here. It’s just that people change—especially people like Azula—and sometimes that closeness turns into more of a codependency and becomes toxic for both characters.
I feel like I don’t need to delve much into Azula’s toxic traits because those are fairly obvious, but I think Ty Lee’s (often overlooked) toxic traits would play a role here.
Honestly, this could be a whole post by itself, but the summary is that Ty Lee’s ultimate toxic trait (and what enables her to be a villain) is her selfishness. It might be hard to recognize at first because she’s such a follower, but if you examine her actions and choices, Ty Lee ultimately does what makes her feel good without really caring about how it affects anyone else. She doesn’t question the war or what she’s fighting for because it doesn’t matter; all that matters is what best serves her.
Ty Lee likes everything to be happy and carefree and fun and overlooks problems in order to uphold that illusion. Azula would initially be very drawn to that because she probably would want to engage in that escapism early in her redemption journey, because she doesn’t want to think about the past. But the past doesn’t just go away, and ultimately Azula needs someone who is able to confront that with her and be able to support her emotionally. Ty Lee just wouldn’t, in my opinion.
From what we see in the beach, Ty Lee is very wrapped up in her own world and problems. She wants to feel unique and stand out, and I think she’s attracted to Azula because she gets that validation from Azula; Azula values her for her talents in a way most people don’t. But I don’t think on a deeper emotional level, Ty Lee could really be there for Azula. What I envision is Ty Lee talking Azula’s ear off, Azula getting exhausted from it, then in turn, Ty Lee gets upset because she feels like Azula isn’t giving her enough attention. And attention is definitely something Ty Lee demands a lot of. I also see Ty Lee getting uncomfortable when Azula tries to open up about something and ultimately leaving Azula feeling like she can’t open up, which is definitely not a healthy dynamic.
So basically, even though they have history together and some things in common, their personalities fundamentally clash and they can’t really support what the other needs. Azula at the end of her healing journey needs a woman who is kind and compassionate, but who also has a strong backbone and is willing to stand up for herself and others. Ty Lee just isn’t that person. She’s too much of a follower.
But that’s just my opinion on their dynamic, not trying to start discourse or anything. Ty Lee doesn’t have that much screen time so I recognize there are lots of ways to read her; this is just my interpretation.
#tyzula#anti tyzula???#not really though because i do enjoy writing them#azula#ty lee#atla#avatar: the last airbender#ask#anon#meta
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CAPTAINS + UNTIMELY 'I LOVE YOU'S
awkward moments when the captains confessed their love for you
CW: gn! reader, mentions of peril
CREW: chris pike, jean-luc picard, kathryn janeway, benjamin sisko, jonathan archer
CHRIS - 100% the type of guy to say “i love you” before leaving for his shift in the morning and doesn’t realize it until he’s halfway to the bridge and it would be too awkward to go back to your quarters. feels kinda embarrassed because i think chris would’ve wanted to tell you over a nice dinner or overlooking a beautiful nebula or even just laying in bed with you tucked up against his chest. he tries to make excuses to see you during the day, but it never really works out - a spacial anomaly knocked out half a dozen systems and chris has been yanked this way and that and the one he did see you was in engineering and your face was smeared with something and it really reminded him that he did mean what he said, even if the timing wasn’t great. later that night, you’re both exhausted and unable to move. still, you turn over, sigh against his shoulder, and tell him you loved him too. chris started a tradition of saying “i love you” every morning, and you say it every night.
JEAN-LUC - he tries to insist to you that merely saying the words “i love you” while reciting a poem didn’t count, but you think otherwise. because you really, really wanted that time to be the first - it was a remarkably quiet night after a nice dinner. your head rested in his lap, eyes drooping, almost asleep - and jean-luc’s voice definitely didn’t help. he was reading out loud some poetry you can’t remember the title of but it didn’t matter because his voice was low and soothing, acting like an audible tranquilizer. one hand held the book, the other in his lap, massaging his fingers through your hair, and he said it. the words were part of the poem, he must’ve read the line a million times, but in that specific moment, it just meant so much more. you turn over on your back, smile up at him, and tell him you loved him too. jean-luc sputtered, trying to explain that it was simply the poem, but you didn’t care. he could use some spontaneity that didn’t endanger his life - he was also much too enamored by your wide, sleepy smile to argue any more.
KATHRYN - she hadn’t talked to anybody after the day’s events - not the doctor, not chakotay, not even you. kathryn’s isolation wasn’t a new phenomena and you weren’t just some officer who had to let the ship’s captain bottle everything up under threat of court martial. it wasn’t any surprise that she retreated into one of the holodecks - her da vinci program, the one you knew she used when reality was too difficult and she needed to get back to basics. to ground herself. it was dark when you entered, lit only by flickering candlelight and a half-moon. it was a relief to hear her voice, flat and muted as it was. and with your curiosity and worry sated, you debated on leaving kathryn alone for a couple hours. but she said your name, and holo-da vinci responded in a way that made you realize she’s talked about you before. kathryn told him about the day’s events - the danger you were in, and how scared she was, even if she couldn’t show it in front of her crew. how much she’s come to love you, deeply, frighteningly. and when you accidentally knocked over one of the hologram’s little sculptures and kathryn saw your figure illuminated by the candlelight, she wasn’t even angry. no, her grin was too wide to force a frown, and her heart too malleable to make it mad. it’s safe to say that the holodeck wasn’t available for the next few hours.
BENJAMIN - ben’s stubbornness was a trait that was easy to overlook in light of all the other wonderful things about him - his compassion, courage, empathy, love. but that giant bull of a personality trait did love to rear its head during some of the most stressful times and there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it once the argument started. you’d keep pressing your own thoughts about the recon mission into dominion space, wanting him to understand - he would, but ben just gets so set in his ways when he thinks he’s right about something. it’s too dangerous, he says. not worth the risk, not when you’re more useful on the station. you want to come along, he says no, you keep asking him why, your argument turns into a yelling match. benjamin says he loves you too much to lose you to a firefight, he can't go through something like that again. the room is dead quiet, and again, he’s much too stubborn to try and backpedal. the argument is over when you concede to his original plan, but not before hugging him so tight, you can’t hardly breathe. well, that’s probably how he would’ve felt if you’d gone on the mission, so it’s only fair.
JONATHAN - it was late (early?), neither of you due for your shifts for another few hours, and porthos had decided to sleep right between you and jon. you didn’t mind all that much, perfectly content to snuggle up to the beagle while intertwining your legs with jon’s, just to keep in contact. but it seemed the captain wasn’t as forgiving, viewing porthos’ obstruction as purposeful - maybe he was jealous of jon giving you more and more attention, rather than him. you awoke to his soft words, barely above a whisper, and the light thudding of a tail against the sheets. for a moment, you were tempted to roll over and tease him for talking to his dog, but something held you back. is it eavesdropping if you’re in the same bed and a dog is involved? jon is half-asleep, you could tell by his voice, when he scolds porthos for acting out. he says he loves him a lot, but he also loves you, and porthos is just going to have to get used to sharing him. it was so calm, so matter-of-fact, that even when jon fell back asleep, you were kept awake by the echo of his words in your head. and you were sure to sneak porthos a treat in the morning.
#star trek x reader#star trek headcanons#chris pike x reader#jean luc picard x reader#kathryn janeway x reader#benjamin sisko x reader#jonathan archer x reader
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trans!curly / jimcurly / mdni
In all ways Curly is someone who Jimmy wants to be.
He’s kind, he’s handsome, he’s a leader, and people respect him. He knows what to say and when to say it, and others listen to him like how a dog listens to a master. Curly doesn’t even demand esteem, he just gets it, and it pisses Jimmy off.
It’s been that way for a while, and all Jimmy can do is stomach it. He doesn’t know what happened, what strings Curly had to pull, but he tugged those strings and is now sitting pretty on his pedestal looking down from his rosy spot onto the other crew members– onto Jimmy.
The worst part about it is that Curly isn’t even a man, or at least not one in the technical sense. Jimmy remembers when he was a scrawny little girl with poofy long blonde hair that his mom wouldn’t allow him to straighten or cut. He remembers Curly’s braces, and how he would mispronounce words and stumble over his sentences. He remembers the skirts he had to wear because he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, or anything “revealing” for that matter that wasn’t what his stuffy fucking Pentecostal parents approved of.
They met at a church that Jimmy didn’t attend with a chain link fence surrounding the perimeter overlooking a busted white trash trailer park. His mom used to talk shit about that church and how fake everyone is, how they will say “bless your heart” to her when she was on the front porch hitting the glass pipe right before CPS showed up in Jimmy’s front lawn with a nosy cop the next day.
“Remember when my mom used to have a nasty meth addiction and get so addled that she’d accuse us of stealing her spoons?” Jimmy says off handedly one day in the cockpit.
“I don’t think she liked me much,” Curly muses, brow puckering. “Then again I don’t think she liked anyone.”
Jimmy leans over in his chair, his brows creeping up his forehead. “No, she didn’t. I think the meth fried her brain,” he says. “The only time she didn’t do meth was when she was pregnant with me.”
Curly looks over, a smirk playing on his lips. “What did she do instead?”
Jimmy’s face fell, but he played it off. Curly didn’t mean anything by it, maybe. He definitely did, actually. Jimmy crosses his arms, affronted. So much for playing it off.
Sometimes Jimmy’s emotions got the better of him like now, but he can’t help the visceral annoyance that creeps up in him like an invasive vine.
“You fucker,” Jimmy spits. “She wasn’t clean, as you know. I don’t know why you had to go there, but heroin.”
Curly’s eyes flit over to Jimmy, expression apologetic in its own manipulative way. He hates how Curly wilts at any backlash; it’s pathetic in how he behaves like a kicked mutt at any ounce of criticism.
Maybe he’s a little too hard, maybe. Whatever, Curly can just deal with it.
“I… didn’t know. Sorry. I was just joking”–
“Shitty joke,” Jimmy states flatly. “Don’t know why we can’t have a conversation where you don’t make a comment at my expense. It’s kind of annoying.”
Curly’s mouth draws into a taut line, obviously affected by the weight of Jimmy’s words and how they land so heavily on his shoulders. He twists the knife regardless.
They’ve always been that way together, and Curly has always been too sensitive for his own good. Too appeasing, placating. He has never told Jimmy no nor has he ever defended himself. Jimmy thinks his leadership is ill-placed because even if he is well respected and people listen to him, he’s a big fucking pushover. It’s goddamned irritating.
He found that out when they were kids, when Curly forked over his sour gummies because Jimmy threatened to beat his nose in with a rock. Not once did he claim that Jimmy couldn’t hit a girl, nor did Curly ever use any method of defense. He gave up just like that.
Curly is the same now as he was then.
Jimmy sighs, arms unraveling. “Relax. I’m not mad or anything. Don’t get so worked up over something so trivial.”
Curly deflates. He drags his hand down his face, smoothing out the lines of exhaustion that creases his skin around his nose. Dark circles paint his eyes from lack of sleep, his normally bright blue gaze dull and lacking life.
“I guess I’m more sensitive than I normally am. I haven’t slept well at all since we’ve disembarked, maybe averaging one to two hours of sleep a night.” Curly explains himself to Jimmy. It’s another compulsive habit of his, one that makes Jimmy’s heart swell.
He likes that he can wiggle his fingers in the cracks of Curly’s otherwise pristine surface. Curly is riddled with small, hairline cracks, and Jimmy knows exactly how to chip away at his vulnerabilities.
Jimmy will claw his way up Curly’s pedestal and drag him down to his level.
“You need to relax, Captain,” Jimmy presses. He takes Curly’s hand off the center console, holding it in his own rough, calloused palm as his heavy lidded gaze lingers on his friend.
Curly drags his hand out of Jimmy’s grasp and stretches. “I don’t know how to relax,” he says. It isn’t a complaint, but the truth.
In all actuality, as Jimmy knows, Curly is a tightly wound ball of anxiety. During their more intimate moments when there weren’t eyes and ears trained on them, Curly has said so himself.
Only the cockpit and sleeping chambers lack cameras. Jimmy swivels his chair, now facing the door.
“I can help you relax,” Jimmy says, turning his thoughts over in his head. “If you’ll let me, that is. If you won’t shy away like you always do. If you won’t deny me like you did when we were shitty hormonal teenagers.”
Curly’s face flares pink.
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Oreo
Synopsis: As a joke, Roman's forced to ask Virgil out after losing an oreo. Flustered, and somewhat embarrassed and humiliated by the connotation that dating him would be such a bad thing, he says yes out of impulse, and must now deal with what being Roman's "boyfriend" entails. Taglist: @renys @falsemood
Part Five: Oversleeping Masterlist
Does he even have a reason to despise Roman? A real reason?
He knows he hates Remus, but he can’t drag Roman into his brother’s bullying. Well, technically he could, but it’d be immature.
Huffing, Virgil tries to think of a reason - perhaps an annoying interaction they’ve had or teasing that was taken too far - but he ultimately comes up short. He just seemingly decided one day after seeing him around Remus that he didn’t like the man. Overlooking the fact they’re brothers in order to justify his bitterness.
Virgil squeezes his eyes shut.
Okay, he’ll admit that was a bit unfair of him. Deciding that he didn’t like Roman just because of who he’s related to was silly.
But, at the same time, Remus harassed him and his friends constantly. How could someone as wonderful and caring as Roman be related to someone who’s so pathetic that he picks on other people to feel some semblance of self worth?
Virgil’s fists roughly hit against his pillows, letting out a frustrated groan as he struggles to sift through the thoughts flooding within his mind like unruly waves crashing against a beach. He can’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds; a thought would come, he’d feel guilt or justification, and then a new thought would take its place.
He sits back up, adjusting his position on the couch, before he turns and presses his face into a new cushion. Closing his eyes once again, the “date” he’d just gone on plays in his mind like a movie.
Roman’s smile… The ease by which he talked...
And his laughter.
Virgil pulls his knees up to his chest, sighing as he urges himself to relax. The sweet taste of a milkshake on his tongue seems to linger. A wave of exhaustion overtakes him as the exertion of today finally catches up. He’s not an extrovert by any means, and spending the entire day out with Roman was taking a toll.
He leans back on the couch, yawning dramatically, before pushing his face hard into one of the cushions. He lets his eyes close. The date seems to play in his mind like a movie, and he lets the memory of Roman’s soft chuckle lull him to sleep.
***
He wakes up the next morning with a headache.
His phone is beeping repeatedly, and when Virgil looks at him, he’s quick to push himself onto his feet.
Groaning as a wave of vertigo overtakes him, he watches a call from Janus suddenly end, adding to a culmination of missed calls currently capped at “16,” but still threatening to increase. He doesn’t bother answering, instead quickly unlocking his phone as he stumbles towards his room, being met with a barrage of texts including ‘where are you?’ and ‘class started fifteen minutes ago!’
Fifteen minutes. And to make matters worse, Virgil can tell he’d overslept, meaning he feels exhausted as ever. Next time he gets home early from a date, he’ll try to keep himself up until ten.
Quickly, Virgil sends an ‘i overslept’ text to the group chat, met with the singular reaction of a thumbs-down emoji from Logan. Truly helpful.
He quickly gets ready, shrugging off his dirty clothes in favor of a different hoodie and another pair of black jeans, before patting his pocket to make sure he has his house key. He throws his backpack over his shoulders, and nearly trips down the stairs.
Under his breath he curses himself for putting off getting his driver’s license. It’s not a long walk by any means, but with him already being late, having a quicker mode of transportation would definitely help.
Essentially sprinting, he can feel himself getting sweaty, and he shakes his head and groans as he realizes he forgot deodorant or toothpaste. Gross.
When he finally hauls his ass into school, he desperately explains his situation to the main office, and is given a late pass which he shamefully carries as he makes his way to his first class. He looks a mess, and he knows it, and so tries to keep his head down as he walks inside.
Every head raises to stare at him, including Janus’s, and the teachers. He shifts uncomfortably where he stands.
"Mr. Addams," she addresses him, sounding rather annoyed. "Glad to see you're finally joining us. Do you have a pass?”
Virgil raises her arm to hand her the slip, and she reads over it before nodding and setting it on her desk.
“The office will adjust your attendance,” she says, dismissively, and Virgil walks to his desk in the back of the room. His chest aches as he feels everyone’s eyes following him. How stupid does he look? Did he remember to lock the front door?
He collapses into his seat, feeling his legs throb as he keeps a hand on his chest, trying to steady his breathing. Running here took so much effort, and keeping his eyes open wasn’t proving to be any easier. He feels as though he’s going to fall to the ground unconscious at any moment.
He resists the urge to lay his head down on his desk, and tries his best to pay attention, not wanting to upset his teacher any further. She already wasn’t pleased with him; he’d hate to do something that would result in a stern talking-to, or even worse, a referral.
In the corner of his eye, Virgil watches Janus type on his phone under the desk, though his head stays straight. His eyes look between Virgil and the teacher. Though he’s curious, Virgil doesn’t bother to check the vibrating phone in his pocket, not wanting to risk fumbling and dropping it. He’d already drawn enough attention toward himself today.
Thankfully, the bell rings after just a short while for Virgil, and he trudges out of the room, Janus at his side.
“Geez, you look like shit,” he comments, making Virgil roll his eyes. He rubs at his face, focusing around his eyes, as he tries to wake himself up more. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I might pass out,” Virgil groggily responds, before forcing himself to stretch. As he reaches his arms over his head, he lets out a slight groan, and then relaxes again. It didn’t help much, but his body feels less strained.
Janus sets a hand on his back. It’s a light touch, but it’s clear he’s helping guide Virgil, if only a bit.
That doesn’t keep Janus from grinning, though. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is stay alive until lunch, and then you can fall asleep on that hunk of a boyfriend you have.” Janus wiggles his eyebrows, attempting to entice some bitter or embarrassed refute from Virgil, but all he gets is a slight hum in response.
Janus whistles. “You must really be tired, hm? Not a glare? No shoulder punch?” He stops their walking to set the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re just feeling tired? You’re not running a fever or anything, are you?”
Virgil finally scoffs, and pushes Janus’s hand away. Janus was right in a sense though. He just had to make it to lunch. Then, he could take a quick nap! Hopefully, he’d feel better after that.
Thank god tomorrow was Friday.
Virgil sleepwalks through his next few classes, but it doesn’t seem like any of his teachers notice. Janus and Logan accompany him through a few of them, but he hardly notices. With his head down, he struggles to keep awake, and resorts to kicking his leg in order to stay awake.
Finally, after what seems like centuries to Virgil, lunch comes around.
His eyes burn, and he feels like he’s shaking with every step he takes. He just needs to make it to the cafeteria. Then, he’ll be okay.
As he’s walking - rather slowly - towards the loud chatter and open double-doors, an arm wraps around his shoulders. Virgil jumps, and stiffens as he cranes his neck upwards, only to see Roman.
“Lacking the pep in your step, I see,” Roman jokes, and Virgil can’t help the small smile that graces his lips.
“I’m tired,” Virgil clarifies, as he lets Roman guide him forward.
Roman chuckles. "You shouldn't be; you told the teacher you overslept.”
Virgil rolls his eyes, but Roman suggests “you can nap at lunch. I don’t think all the screaming would make the greatest white noise, but to each their own.”
Virgil laughs softly. “Janus told me a similar thing.” He leaves out the bit where Janus joked about Virgil falling asleep against Roman. Being reminded of that, he’s quick to pull himself away from Roman, who eases his grip and allows Virgil to do so.
People whisper as they pass. It was still big news that Roman decided to date some social outcast! Virgil still needed to ask how people found out about that, though, with Roman’s love for affection and his brother’s big mouth, he definitely had a few guesses.
Once they sit down at their table, Virgil immediately slumps over it, and tucks his head into his arms. Roman, who’s apparently decided this was his new table as well, pats Virgil’s back comfortingly.
“I take it you’re no longer completely against dating Roman?” Janus teases, alluding to the fact they walked in together.
Virgil just shrugs, too lethargic to care at the moment.
Janus laughs. “Better watch out, Roman! Virgil might actually be falling in love with you.” He winks, and Roman smiles, but Virgil lets out a string of muffled words at Janus’s teasing.
They’re mostly incoherent, but Janus can just assume the obvious; Virgil was obviously saying something along the lines of “I could never fall in love with someone like him.”
Roman has no qualms laughing at Janus’s words, though, cheeks a nice pink at the idea. Virgil actually falling in love with him? Never. And Roman becoming equally smitten? He doesn’t see it happening.
There were no real romantic feelings between them, and Roman knew that. But he’s not a quitter, and if Virgil insists on being in this “relationship,” then Roman will make sure it’s the best relationship Virgil’s ever partaken in.
Sneaking a glance downwards, Roman’s met with Virgil’s (supposedly) sleeping figure. He was breathing rhythmically, so Roman assumes he’s finally managed to drift off.
Out of courtesy, Roman lowers his voice, and when Logan finally comes over to join them, he does the same. Logan has a book out as he eats, but he has no problem talking while reading, as if that wasn’t an impressive task. And as lunch carries on, Logan and Janus become more invested in each other, leaving Roman to eat his lunch quietly, side-by-side with Virgil.
When the bell rings, Janus and Logan get up and walk off together, leaving Roman with a sleeping Virgil.
With a sigh, Roman gently shakes Virgil awake. Virgil groans, before weakly swatting at Roman’s hands. His accuracy is horrid, but Roman’s arms retreat anyway, giving Virgil space to stretch.
“Don’t touch me… you heathen….” Virgil yawns, blinking his eyes open.
Roman grins. “Heathen? That’s an awfully mean thing to call somebody who’s looking out for you. Here I am, selflessly making sure you get to your next class on time, and you insult me.” Roman sets a hand on his chest, feigning being struck, as if Virgil’s insult had punched him square in the torso.
Virgil stands, yawning again, before cracking his back. Then, he begins walking. Roman walks with him. They don’t share the same class this period, but it’s in the same general direction.
“Believe me, Roman, I could call you worse,” Virgil threatens, voice gravelly. He still sounds exhausted, but he looks a bit better. Hopefully, with a quick cat-nap, he’d be better suited to finish the rest of the day.
Roman laughs, but doesn’t respond. Silently, they head to Virgil’s class, before Roman waves and turns away to walk to his own, leaving Virgil to settle himself at his desk.
Their afternoon classes are uneventful, and the two are both fairly happy when the dismissal bell rings. Roman runs to his locker, which is already swarmed with fellow football players, other boys trying to associate with the “cool” jocks, and girls desperate to talk to them.
He manages to worm his way to his locker, but in attempting to grab his stuff and leave, he’s stopped by Remus.
“Hey, loser,” Remus greets him, with a wide smile. He’s leaning against the locker next to Roman’s. “Have you convinced that outcast to break up with you yet?” Remus picks at his teeth with his pinky as he waits for an answer, seemingly intrigued.
“No,” Roman replies, as he shuts his locker a bit louder than necessary. “I haven’t been trying.”
Remus looks a little surprised. “Why not? Don’t tell me you actually caught feelings for that accident?”
Roman narrows his eyes, turning to Remus with comically red cheeks. He was frustrated, but such a look could easily be mistaken for fluster. A strange compulsion to defend Virgil wells up in his chest. Maybe it was because Virgil wasn’t here to stick up for himself.
“So what if I have?” is his immediate jest, threatening Remus to raise any sort of objection. “Is that such a problem?” There’s a glare not normally present in his soft green eyes, and it makes Remus jut his chin out in a mixture of curiosity, and amusement.
Roman doesn’t actually have feelings for Virgil, but he has respect and basic decency. Unlike Remus, apparently.
“You barely know him,” Roman continues, as the increasing volume of his voice draws the attention of the people around them, “and from what I’ve seen, he’s a better person than you are.”
“That’s not a hard bar to surpass.”
Roman groans, before stomping his foot dramatically. “Whatever, Remus! Get out of my way; I’m going to see my boyfriend.”
He pushes past Remus, purposely bumping his shoulder against his brother’s, before stomping off, leaving Remus there, intrigued.
Roman takes deep breaths as he makes his way to Virgil’s locker, where he hopes the latter is. And he’s pleased when he sees Virgil there, though Virgil looks exhausted.
His forehead is pressed against his locker, eyes closed. He was holding his bag by his strap, though it hangs down, being drawn to the floor.
Roman sets a hand on Virgil’s shoulder, and apologizes immediately when Virgil jumps. His eyes are wide as he stares at Roman, before sighing out a short “what do you want?” Ever so polite, Virgil wastes no time getting straight to the point.
Roman smiles. “I came to ask if you wanted to come over!”
“Why?” Virgil responds, voice sounding tired. It’s enough to make Roman shift his weight from one leg to the other, debating whether or not he should just drop the topic.
“You mentioned earlier that you didn’t like being alone,” Roman replies, smile faltering slightly. “I came to provide you an alternate option!”
“Who said I’d want to spend time with you instead?”
Roman lets out a sigh, adjusting the bag on his back. “I guess you have a point. I’ll take that as a no, then.” He turns to leave. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow-”
His hand is immediately grabbed, and Roman turns to see Virgil looking a little anxious. He quickly masks it when they make eye contact, and releases Roman’s hand just as quickly.
“I never said no,” Virgil replies, wiping his hand on his pants as though Roman had infected it with germs. “I’ll come over. Are your parents okay with this?”
Roman just shrugs in response, but he smiles wide. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”
He takes hold of Virgil’s hand, pulling him through the school and out the front door. He pulls a pair of car keys out of his pocket, and leads Virgil to a slick, white car. Not a single splatter of mud or pile of bird shit over it. Roman unlocks it, and even opens the passenger side door for him.
The seats are comfy, and Virgil settles into his with a pleased groan, as Roman gets into the driver’s side and starts the car.
“I could fall asleep right now,” Virgil comments, making Roman laugh.
“It’s a short drive,” he assures Virgil. “I have a comfy bed you can fall asleep on at home instead.”
Virgil lets his head fall to the side, staring at the window as Roman drives them out of the school parking lot, and down the street. They go straight for a while, before Roman turns down a certain street. The houses lining the sidewalk were giant, and looked incredibly old.
Virgil’s eyes go wide.
“The historical district?” Virgil exclaims, pressing his forehead against the window. “But… but the houses here are super expensive! Do you really live here?”
Roman nods, and slows his car as he turns and drives up a nice paved driveway, leaving Virgil to stare at the large house they’re pulling up to. It’s white with many, many windows, and a faded blue roof. Large pillars act as support, and a giant yard is freshly trimmed, with marble decorations. Flowers grow along the driveway and the path to the front door.
Roman parks the car on the driveway, behind two black cars parked side by side. He pulls a key out of his pocket and walks Virgil to the front door, before unlocking it. He shuts the door behind them, and then interlocks his arm with Virgil’s.
“Dad, Papa, I’m home!” Roman then calls, giving Virgil’s arm an assuring squeeze. “And I brought somebody you might want to meet!”
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Faceless Fixation {Sal Fisher}: Caught in #4k [5]
I wake up groggy and exhausted. Definitely not prepared for a full work day, that's for sure.
The Faces and I spent the entire night playing together. It was honestly fun aside from the few times Sally and I got into really aggressive arguments. I was worried one of them would turn into a yelling match, but somehow, we were calmed. I blame-- I mean-- thank Ash for that.
Still, it was about two in the morning by the time I realized how late it was. I told my friends good night and ended my stream that amassed a whopping five thousand and something viewers. I thanked them all the best way I could-- which was just through words. For now.
And the best part of ending abruptly is that Sally wasn't given a chance to bitch at me for getting him killed early in the night.
The only issue is that it's eight in the damn morning and I have no energy. But, I do have a clear and optimistic mindset.
Later, Ash is going to help me link my bank account to all of my socials. For Twitch, I need to at this point. With how often I plan on streaming, alongside my growing number of viewers, I'll actually start making some money, which blows my mind.
But, I'm excited. This is the change I've been looking for. It's something good for me and dad. And hey, who knows, maybe I'll be able to go back to school at some point.
I get ready for my day, sighing upon realizing that I've forgotten to get more contacts again. I'll have to do that soon.
A wave of deja vu washes over me as I situate my glasses onto the bridge of my nose, looking over my form in the mirror. The last time I did this, I wasn't involved with Sally and I definitely wasn't streaming. Come to think of it, VioletViolence didn't exist either yet.
The deja vu feels good this time and I can't help but smile at myself as I pull my stupid skirt higher on my waist and get ready to leave for the day.
Maybe I won't have to work this taxing job soon, too. If I could have true, reliable income from streaming and being a bit of an influencer, that would help me out tremendously. Being online could be my only occupation.
Before I step out of my apartment to start my day, my phone starts ringing. There goes that deja vu again.
I bound over to the elevator, trying to fish my phone out of the side pocket on my backpack. But it's stuck, and I can't get it in time to answer the call.
Hissing, I press the button to go down to my apartment complex's lobby then take my backpack off, man-handling the damn phone and yanking it from its fabric clutches. Life being hard on me just because.
I glance over my lit up screen with furrowed brows due to extreme aggravation. It's going to be a long day.
With pinched lips, I click on Ash's missed call and put my phone to my ear, listening to consecutive rings. It doesn't take her too long to pick up though.
"Hey, y/n! Everything okay?" Ash asks, her kind voice chirpy and cheery like she got a full seven hours of sleep. I'm not sure how she manages to not feel aggravated on little sleep because I know she definitely went to bed later than I did.
"Hey, hun," I start, smiling slightly. Her happy voice makes me feel a bit better. "Yea, I'm fine. Just couldn't get to my phone, it was stuck in a pocket. I'm on my way to work. How are you?"
Ash sucks in a breath. "Ouch, sorry. We shouldn't have kept you up so late," she says guiltily.
I walk into the elevator, scooting in beside an older man with a briefcase. I smile at him. He doesn't smile back. So I face forward and raise my eyebrows. "No, don't worry about it," I tell Ash. "I actually really enjoyed myself! Sally's a bit of an ass, but I can overlook it."
"Wow," Ash gasps. "Is this progress I'm seeing? I noticed you guys getting real flirty, but for you to actually be getting used to him? The gates have fallen and all the little monsters are taking my y/n-bug!"
A giggle leaves my lips and I hold my phone with both hands, trying to hide myself from the man behind me but refusing to let some random kill my instant good mood. "Don't get your hopes up. I think the arguments are fun, but Sally genuinely can't stand me. I'm not sure how to fix that, and I don't really want to make him like me at all either. It's fun making him suffer," I say smugly, grinning at the metallic elevator doors.
The doors-- who are absolutely against me in every way for unknown reasons-- open up to a handful of people the minute the expression envelops my face and my grin drops. Way to make myself look like an absolute villainess in front of potential neighbors right?
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and weave through people until I find my way out of the apartment building and into the hot, summer LA air.
The sun is bright, blinding even, and I can already feel a sweat working up, so I keep walking in the direction of the diner and try my best to find some shade.
"Oh well," Ash sighs into the call. "Sally will come around eventually. He's just really hard headed with you-- not sure why. Even just your name-- either one, in fact-- gets him worked up. It's really weird."
I shrug, feeling like an idiot when I remember that she can't see. "Not my problem. He has something against me and I don't know what it is, but I don't really care either." I shield my eyes from the sun, squinting my eyes in the harsh light. "So what's up? Any plans today?"
"Oh, actually, thank you for the reminder!" Ash says, cursing herself lightly. "I called for a reason. I know you said you won't be coming to Vegas. Boringggg." She giggles and the action makes me smile a little more. "But I emailed you the invite a few minutes ago. I wanted to make sure you got it!"
I hum, pulling my phone away from my face to look down at my screen. My eyes are still shielded as I scroll through my recent emails and, sure enough, there's one from Ash. The subject says,, "That party invite-- the one you won't be coming to :("
With a little giggle, I place my phone to my ear again. "Yea, I've got it. I'll check it out a little later, but I'm still not going," I remind her, noting the diner coming into view. "But listen, I'll talk to you again tonight, okay? Are you guys playing again?"
"We sure are!" Ash exclaims excitedly. "We'll be getting on around six in the evening. Can you be there for that time?"
Frowning, I remember that I'm staying until about eight tonight. "I'll be late, but I'll be there," I promise.
Ash squeals. Her cute noises always excite me and fill me with actual joy-- something I don't feel very often nowadays. "Yay! Okay, I'll tell the guys! I'm super excited!"
I huff out a laugh, opening the back door into the diner's kitchen. Nodding toward some of the cooks, I turn into our rest area and put my bag down. "Sounds good. I'm excited too." I glance at my surroundings and realize my shift starts in ten minutes. "I've got to go. I'll see you tonight."
"Barf, but okay! Ich liebe dich. Have a great day!" Ash says, blowing me a kiss then hanging up. Her trademark lately is telling me she loves me in different languages, it's pretty cute.
Most of my day goes by quickly. Well, the first half at least. I couldn't be more thankful for that. But when I'm on break, munching on a burger that the head cook was nice enough to make for me, I spend some time hanging out on Discord.
Ultimately, I come to regret it.
LARBEARAWR: hey vi i have a cewl pic 4 u wana c???
VIOLETVIOLENCE: sure lar :3 send it over!!!
T0DDLES12: Larry and Sally have been off doing something all day. They haven't been home in about four hours.
Ew, so they're together. I hope Larry just sends me a cute kitty picture or something.
ASHYPOO <3: Really? GUYSSSSS what are you doing??? We're literally going to be streaming laterrr. Plus, Larry owes me a ride to that new smoothie shop on the outskirts of nockfell >:(((
T0DDLES12: Sally mentioned something about wanting to practice his guitar at their parents' place down Main Street. Apparently, Lisa and Henry bought some type of studio to open a little meat market but haven't gotten around to it yet. So it's ended up being the perfect place for Larry and Sally to do criminal things.
I reel back in my seat, a bit confused by the information I've been given. I have a mouthful of fries, but I stop chewing as I try to make sense of who exactly Lisa is with.
VIOLETVIOLENCE: wait, who's Lisa and Henry?
I wait with bated breath. Of course, I had to lie about knowing Lisa given the situation I put myself into. But I know Lisa very well, she and I were besties before I moved. She made the most amazing lasagna for me, Larry, Todd, and Ash. She was an awesome second mom.
T0DDLES12: Henry is Sally's father. Lisa is Larry's mother. They're married and it's all thanks to the boys. The guys started out as best friends when Sally first moved to Nockfell, then their parents met and the rest was history.
My eyes are wide. What are the fucking chances that Sally and Larry have ended up being step-brothers? Fuck this is wild. And fuck, this is really not looking up for me. I have to be careful with what I say.
I genuinely hope that Henry is nothing like his son.
VIOLETVIOLENCE: awwweee that's so cute, i'm glad it worked out that way for them :)
It sounds sarcastic and, let's be honest, it kind of is. I'm hardcore freaked out.
A photo comes in from Larry but it takes a second or two to load in. So, I squint my eyes and bring my phone closer to my face.
When I don't have time to decide that I don't want to see the picture, a blisteringly hot photo finally pops up in front of me and I suddenly find myself choking on my fries. A few bits of gross, chewed up potato fly onto the floor at my feet as I rush to cover my mouth with a hand. My phone gets slammed onto the table in front of me as I try to catch my breath.
Every inch of my body is on fire and I feel like I'm being seared from the inside out. My brain is overwhelmed and fighting to hold onto my sanity. And my sanity? My rational, working order that keeps me in check? It's running for the hills-- sprinting over to my phone just so it can lick my screen. I struggle to grip onto the last bits of me that actually make sense.
And, by the way, fuck Larry. Because I lose my grasp on my good-natured superego. My scary ego takes the reins, commanding my hands to bring my phone up to my face again.
Sigmund Freud would have fucking loved me.
With shaky hands and wide eyes, I rake my eyes over the photo that Larry sent. Hell, I even zoom in on it.
In the photo is a shirtless Sally Face. He's dripping in sweat, his hair messy and sticking to his prosthetic, and his guitar is securely hanging onto the front of his body.
His hands are holding onto the body and neck of his bright red, fiery guitar and I'm not quite sure where to look first.
His skin, as pale as the moon on a dim night, glistens with sweat from putting his entire heart into playing the instrument, I'll bet. His arms aren't too muscular, but they're veiny and there's definitely some muscle mass there. Has to be a result of constant working hands. My eyes trail up the various veins in his arms and then over the wide variety of tattoos.
Sally's sleeve is completely free for me to view right now-- and it doesn't just stop at his elbow. The tattoo I saw on his arm-- the one I got to touch-- goes all the way up to his shoulder and I can feel my mouth watering over the attractive, geometric designs.
His other arm doesn't have quite as many tattoos, but he does have a vine of some kind of flower wrapping around his skin. It's not a big tattoo that covers every inch of him, in fact, it's rather small, but it is long. It starts at his wrist and trails along and around his arm, all the way up to his shoulder.
There's a tattoo on his collarbone, but I can't quite make out what it is. Regardless, it's nice to look at and my brain has gone fuzzy.
I can see his shattered dagger tattoo exceptionally well with his head looking down at his finger placement. His neck is reddened just a bit with little pieces of his shoulder length, cerulean hair stuck to his skin in some places.
Fuck, I hate that he's hot and I was doing just fine with ignoring my dull attraction to him until this. The thought of seeing his face covered in sweat and stuck in a focused expression would probably make me lose whatever brain cells I have left.
I cross my legs and clear my throat, slapping my cheeks after a moment. I look up and away from the photo, trying to clear my mind in an attempt to quell my raging emotions. And somehow, I still find myself looking down at the photo again.
Sally's wearing black ripped jeans that hug his thighs in all the right places. Now that I'm looking closer too, I can see little scars littering his pale, glistening neck. And fuck, he has the most beautiful torso I think I've ever seen in my life.
And what is that?
I narrow my eyes and zoom in closer.
My stomach practically drops out of my ass upon realizing that the edge of a tattoo is peeking out of the waistband of his jeans. I'm not sure where it is exactly, but it's probably on his thigh and I'd give anything to lay my eyes on the full thing one day.
My heart is beating wildly and I feel like I can't breathe. If I take a breath, I think I may burst and I'm not sure in what way. There are too many aggressors in just one photo. My head is overloaded and I almost throw caution to the wind, say fuck it, and ask Sally to fucking fly back to LA.
Come to think of it, where's that text to Lexi?
I hiss at the photo and click out of it, finally taking a deep breath and realizing I've broke out into a nervous sweat. My thighs are glued together and I'm afraid to move-- afraid to even think because my head is impure and I haven't gotten fucked in far too long.
Damn.
I lick my dry lips and blink at the Discord chat.
LARBEARAWR: vi if u zoom in on the red thing u can c my name on the bottom LARBEARAWR: vi do u c it LARBEARAWR: viiiiiiiii r u bein like sally LARBEARAWR: ok i'll leave u 2 masturbate in peace
T0DDLES12: Larry, I'm too gay for that picture. Please delete it. Neil and I are trying to find your location and it's not for innocent reasons.
ASHYPOO <3: No wonder Sally's pulling all the bitches... HE NEVER LEAVES ANY HOTTIES FOR THE REST OF US AND THIS IS WHY fuck >:(
T0DDLES12: That must be frustrating for you and Larry. Though, Sally would be the only bitch I need. T0DDLES12: Also, Vi, I am not cheating on my boyfriend. I casually flirt with my friends and Neil finds it hilarious. I don't actually want to have sex with any of my friends, or anyone else for that matter.
ASHYPOO <3: Todd's lying. He's actually a little whore for hot people. Don't let him lie to you XD
T0DDLES12: No need to call me out, Ashley.
LARBEARAWR: shut up vi is trying 2 get off LARBEARAWR: gosh u guys have no respect 4 others needs
ASHYPOO <3: True that. Sorry, Vi. We'll leave you to let out some sexy steam~ :3
Fuck, how did I manage to put myself into this ridiculous position. The worst part is that they aren't far off from the truth. Sal is hot as fuck and it pains me to admit it.
This ground is officially dangerous, tainted with bombs that'll go off the minute I make one wrong move. Sally and I cannot meet again. If I see him without a shirt in person, his pants are coming off too.
VIOLETVIOLENCE: sorry guys i'm at work and just getting to my break! sally has a badass guitar. and yes, i see your signature larry lmfao
I didn't even look for Larry's name on the damn guitar. If I click on that photo again, chaos will ensue in my mind and I can't handle that. I still have a few hours left to go in this shift and I'll actually have to talk with Sally tonight. I can't subject myself to that torture while knowing I'll have to converse with him in just a few hours.
LARBEARAWR: lol did u rlly c it LARBEARAWR: r u sure u weren't looking @ sally's lickable shirtless bod 2 hard
VIOLETVIOLENCE: yes lar, i'm sure lol. i see it, it's there!
LARBEARAWR: lol... that's wild... cause my name isn't on it... LARBEARAWR: sally wood off me if i ever touched his guitar :P LARBEARAWR: caught u in #4k hehe
I want to scream and cry and roll around on the floor because, yea, Larry caught me in the most obvious fucking lie ever. I think when I see him again, I'm going to punch him. I don't think I'll feel better until I do.
My eyes squeeze shut and I throw a hand over my mouth again, letting my phone drop to the table a second time. This man is evil. Both men are evil. Larry is smarter than he lets on and Sally is just too damn fuckable. I should have never started streaming.
What do I do. What do I do? I can't let this marinate, I have to fix it.
My lungs are wedged into my throat and my legs are bouncing up and down in a panic. I feel like I'm going to fucking throw up.
I got caught slacking in one of the worst moments of weakness I've ever shown in my life.
In a last ditch effort to restore some faith in myself, I download the photo of Sal and do my best to ignore how badly I want to drool over it.
Zooming in all the way into the bottom right of the guitar, I screenshot and then delete the full photo so I don't have to listen to my insides scream upon seeing his naked upper half again. Fuck, this is aggravating.
Deny until you die, right?
I edit Larry's name onto the screenshot of the guitar then quickly send it in the chat.
The group is silent for a second, and I know that photo is obviously edited, but maybe it'll take a little bit of heat off of me. I chew on my bottom lip, cheeks heating up again as I think abut how to lose every connection to the name VioletViolence. I can start over again. Under a fourth name.
Hell, maybe I have a problem...
All my names are a result of me running away from my unavoidable problems. I'm starting to see a pattern.
My phone pings and I focus in on it again, sucking in a quick breath.
SALLYFʌCɛ: awww, what a cute attempt to save yourself. don't wear yourself out too much. and clean up whatever mess you make along the way.
I'm fucked for life.
————————————
A/N:::::: my good friend drew this photo of Sally for Motherf*cker and he came out so awesome🫶🫶 if you wanna show some love, they’re @ MadamMilky on Wattpad!!!
#sally face#future smut#sal fisher#sally face fanfiction#sally face fandom#ash campbell#enemies to lovers#larry johnson#todd morrison#travis phelps
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