#don't think he needed lightening for that though

[spentgladiator]

I love Valentine's Day. I'm a server, and have been for many years, so I get a peep into many different relationships and the thing about Valentine's Day in particular is.

Couples that dont go out together anymore, don't spend time together anymore and don't really like each other any more still go out on Vday because of the obligation (she needs to be able to tell the girls he took her to a nice dinner to keep up the facade of a happy marriage, he needs to say he did something or else the cute girl at the office who asks what he and his wife did might think he's an asshole) and those are the couple's you can spot a mile away.

They're usually in the 40-60 range but not always, when the kids are young they can feasibly get away with not doing something because they can't find a babysitter or equal excuse, so the kids are grown enough to have one stay home and mind the others. The body language will be stiff, rigid and deeply uncomfortable, as though they are sat across from some kind of creature or perhaps a beast. One or both will likely be looking at their phone a lot more than you would expect a couple at a romantic dinner. The conversation will be sparse, unemotional, very logistics based rather than anything intimate or emotional. They'll be "dressed up" like a business meeting, nothing sexy or fun and the vibes within fifteen feet of that table will be RANCID.

Any other night of the year and these people would be holed up on opposite ends of the house keeping themselves occupied, maybe she's out with some friends and he's practicing his golf swing on a simulation somewhere idk what straight men do honestly. They are strangers to each other, worse yet, strangers with BAGGAGE. they will both be totally impervious to your charm and attempts at being friendly and warm to lighten the mood, (alternatively, she will cling to you like a life vest as a source of any positive interaction, her eyes screaming 'please can I just hang out with you instead')

You wonder if you even need to put ice in their drinks cause with how cold they both are it's likely the drink would freeze in their hand anyway.

As for how these two make it through other special occasions - other people. Think about it.... Christmas brings children and relatives and friends, birthdays, Holidays, they never have to spend that time alone together. Valentine's Day stands out as a time when just the two of them HAVE to do something, lest they admit to themselves and each other that the love between them had died long ago.

This couple is not special. I see a few of them every Vday, you just have to try your luck if you wanna spot them. I recommend hopping, drinks and appys at one spot, main course at one spot, dessert at another to maximize your chances at spotting one. Just make sure you call ahead and book your tables!

[beneathsilverstars]

what does the party think of loop being a different siffrin. like why theyre here. likee do they think loop is a siffrin who.. succeeded? a siffrin who died?

[context: Dagger Ending AU]

Ooh yes. Here's everyone's theories from the first week or two, and what Loop had to say about them!

They've all discussed their theories together (though with some details omitted when Bonnie's there), and they have varying opinions on each other's, but they mostly stick to arguing their own if just because they have a clandestine bet going on. Maybe a little gauche, but sometimes you need to lighten the mood by acting the same way you do for sillier topics.

Bonnie's theory: Siffrin asked the stars for a friend.

Bonnie's story is inspired by some fairytales they were told when they were younger. Those fairytales were inspired by stories from the forgotten island, so Bonnie's version here actually brings it closer to the originals again! Though of course, with a Vaugardian twist.

Bonnie says: Siffrin was worried about being left alone, so since he really likes the stars for some reason, he asked the stars to be his friend forever. So one of the stars came down to be with him! But obviously a dot of light wouldn't make a very good friend, so they had to Change to be a person — and a dot of light that isn't a person yet wouldn't know how to Change right yet, so they just cheated and copied Siffrin. But it's impossible to Change to be exactly like another person, you can only ever be a new version of yourself, so that's why Loop isn't the exact same as Siffrin.

Bonnie: I know you don't want to explain to us why there's two of you, and why you're not a— you're... more different than people can normally be, but if I tell you my thee-ry, will you at least just say if I'm right? Loop: Hm... Probably not. Loop: But you should tell me anyway! [Bonnie explains their theory.] Loop: Aw! That's a very cute story~ [Loop's smile becomes more forced.] Loop: That is all I am, aren't I? A star friend for pooor little Siffrin, so he doesn't have to be all alone? Bonnie: I knew it!!! Bonnie: Do you miss being a normal star, up in the sky? [Loop takes a deep breath.] Loop: I miss a lot of things. But I asked to be here. Bonnie: Oh! Did you ask for a friend, too? It would make sense for the stars to pick you to send, if you were lonely too. Loop: ... I did! You're very good at this. Bonnie: Of course I am!!! Loop: You know, you should tell your story to stardust. I think they'll like it better than I do. [Bonnie runs off to tell Siffrin about it, and then to tell the other adults that Loop said they were totally right.]

Isabeau's theory: Loop is a sadness made out of Siffrin's self-hatred and loneliness.

There's stories about people finding "their" sadness that mirrors them exactly, including both fiction that uses it as a metaphor for inner battles, and folktales that claim to be true. Isabeau used to not believe the folktales at all, because they vary so wildly, and surely one single person's emotions couldn't be strong enough to make a sadness as sapient as some of the stories claim — no sadnesses are that clever, not even the big powerful ones that are made out of so many people's emotions that they aren't even vaguely human-shaped.

But, now, well... If it is possible, it's hard to find any negative emotions stronger than the reasons someone tried to kill themself. And it's undeniable that Loop seems to be closer to a sadness in physiology than they are to any living creature.

Plus, there could very well be some other factor that pushed Loop into full personhood! Some of the stories include the sadness feeding on its originator until the person wastes away and the sadness takes their place, which is far-fetched, but so is this whole situation. Or, animating a statue kind of involves putting a bit of yourself into it — your craft energy, your intentions — so perhaps Siffrin had put a lot of themself into Loop, in a way that isn't possible with something nonliving. It would explain the craft exhaustion, too, if Siffrin had fueled Loop's becoming in some way or another.

Isabeau: Bonnie said you said they were right. That you're a star sent to be Sif's friend. Loop: I'm sure they did. Isabeau: ... But it's not true, right? [Loop looks away.] Loop: ... I didn't actually tell them it was. I didn't lie to them. Just... parts of it. Isabeau: Parts of it were true? Isabeau: Which parts? Loop: ... What do you think? Isabeau: Well, it would depend on exactly how they worded it, wouldn't it? They keep changing their mind on the details. Loop: What do you think, then? Isabeau: About… Loop: Me. Isabeau: Right. [Isabeau makes a face.] Isabeau: I... don't know that it would do any good to tell you. Loop: Wow, that bad, huh? Now I have to hear it. Isabeau: Just, promise you won't take it the wrong way? [Loop squints at him.] Loop: I'll take it whatever way I want. Isabeau: Alright, fair enough. Alright. But, whether or not my theory is true, that doesn't change how I think about you, okay? You're a person, and you're our friend, and I'm glad you're here with us. Loop: Just get on with it, Fighter. Isabeau: Yeah, yeah, alright. Isabeau: It’s... I think you might be a sadness? [Loop gasps dramatically.] Loop: Ooooh, how could you~? Isabeau: There would definitely have to be more to it. You are a person, and you're stable, Sif's moods don't affect you any more than they do the rest of us. But... you're not human. You don't need to sleep, you can't eat, you're just... not made out of living stuff? But you're not artificial either, you're not an inanimate thing that's been crafted to move. You're alive! And there's only one sort of... being... that I know of, that's alive but not living. And, well... Sif...... Loop: ... They were so very, very sad. Isabeau: Yeah. Loop: Well! It does make sense! Loop: Of course you'd go for the depressing, realistic answer! Loop: You're entirely wrong, of course, but... Loop: I... [Loop looks down at their hands.] [They move their hands up, to grip their arms.] Isabeau: Sorry. I knew you wouldn't like it. I swear it really, really doesn't matter, okay? However you... got here... you're here now, and you're you, and we're glad of it. Loop: ... Isabeau: I'll go see if Bonbon needs any help with dinner.

Mirabelle's theory: Siffrin killed himself, and he both got brought back to life and lived on as a ghost.

To be exact, he successfully(-ish?) committed suicide when he said he was going to go take a nap in the meadow. She thinks it's an earlier attempt rather than the one Odile saw because: Siffrin had originally told Isabeau he wanted to talk again with someone he'd spoken to the day before — which could only have happened earlier in the day, because Siffrin was never left alone later — and while that could be a lie it also explains how Siffrin knew that Loop was at the favor tree at all; Odile mentioned how confident and unflinching he was about it, which could be explained by having done it before; and everyone agrees that the recent changes in Siffrin started, though more subtly, after the nap in particular.

Siffrin not dying from his late afternoon attempt isn't necessarily as much of a factor — Vaugardian ghost lore includes stories of people being haunted by earlier versions of themselves that they’d Changed away from, so there’s precedence for living people having ghosts. Of course this means there are other major Changes besides death (or deciding to die) that can create a ghost, but the other ways Siffrin has changed don't seem quite dramatic enough in the right way to have been the catalyst. In fact, it’s strange than Loop seems to be the more Changed of the two! But perhaps pre-Dormont Siffrin actually was more like Loop and just hid it better, or perhaps Siffrin used to be more like Loop at an earlier point in their life, and had somewhat Changed but not enough to be happy with themself. Either way, any of Loop's traits that post-Dormont Siffrin doesn't seem to share much at all would be parts of themself that pre-Dormont Siffrin "killed".

Mirabelle: Loop... You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but... Are you a ghost? Loop: You know, stardust guessed the same thing! And I told them... Well, I don't remember anymore. Something about the Favor Tree being my grave? Loop: Anyway, you could sort of say that! Except, how could I be his ghost when he didn't actually die? You made sure of that. Mirabelle: Well... I thought maybe... Mirabelle: Maybe Siffrin did kill themself? Before that? And you're the parts of Siffrin that they killed, but you stayed because... because you still had things to get done, or Siffrin still needed you, or… or something like that...? Loop: HA! Loop: Yeah, something like that!!! [Loop laughs hysterically for a bit, then suddenly stops.] Loop: ... Go away, Housemaiden. [Mirabelle leaves to fetch Siffrin.] [While she's gone, Loop leaves the camp.] [Siffrin finds them and brings them back several hours later.]

Odile's theory: Siffrin wished for a companion.

The final loop through the house didn't include either of the forgotten language books on wish craft, but it did include discussion of the impossibility of time craft, and the diary where a lonely person wished for a copy of themself. Odile initially dismissed the diary as creative fiction, but it was still fresh on her mind when she met Loop later that day!

During the next couple days in Dormont, she asked Euphrasie about how she crafted Mirabelle's blessing, because she loves cutting-edge craft. The conversation turned to the King's impossible time craft, and Euphrasie said she thinks he probably used wish craft. She explained that she doesn't know much because it's hard to find anything more than brief mentions of it, but she's confident it's real. She's pretty sure you need to do very particular things in order to use it, though — not any old wish will do — and she doesn't know what those things are. But it's probably the only way the King could have gotten the power to stop time, and there's a chance that the people of Vaugarde’s wishes for salvation contributed to his defeat (but she's not sure because who knows if anyone actually wished the right away).

Now, knowing that wish craft could be real… it’s strange to think that Siffrin might know about something basically unheard of. But they did know about the orrery in the house, and caring about stars is basically unheard of, too! And… Loop says they’re a star… and the King has stars on his armor….. And it’s risky to use one guess as evidence for another, but that could be three instances where the shape or knowledge of stars appeared alongside the use or knowledge of wish craft. And Siffrin spoke to Loop at the Favor Tree, and supposedly that’s where they spoke the day before too, and a Favor Tree is a place where you ask for something you want.

Siffrin’s craft exhaustion could be a point for or against; on one hand, making a copy of yourself must be powerful craft, but on the other hand, wish craft was what allowed the King to perform craft so strenuous that it should’ve instantly killed him. Plus, Siffrin’s exhaustion didn’t hit till at least a full day after they went to the Favor Tree alone the first time. So Odile doesn’t know enough to call that factor either way.

And why would Siffrin try to kill themself shortly after their wish came true? Was it just not everything they hoped it would be? Siffrin and Loop fight a lot, but they obviously care for each other a lot, too… But maybe even getting something they really wanted could make a depressed person feel worse, if it doesn't help as much as they hoped it would, and they decide that means they’re hopeless.

Odile decided on this theory by day three. There are other mysteries that aren’t as neatly explained by it, like the ease with which Siffrin navigated the house, but perhaps they’d made a second wish? Or perhaps that was the influence of the Vaugardian wishes that Euphrasie talked about? And over the following weeks, Siffrin’s behavior has only gotten stranger, in worrying, unexplainable ways. Odile is finding many different pieces to an unknown number of puzzles… but she’s fairly certain she’s got a good start on the Loop corner.

Loop: Well, Researcher? Everyone else has told me their theories on what and how and why I am. What's yours? Odile: I was wondering when you’d ask. My best theory is that Siffrin made a wish — for a friend who wouldn’t leave him, or someone who understood what he felt, or something along those lines — and your existence was the answer. Loop: … Loop: Same story as the Kid, huh? Odile: You did say that they got parts of it right. Loop: It just seems a bit unrealistic for you, Researcher~ Stardust wished for a friend and one just fell out of the sky? Odile: Your entire existence is unrealistic, Loop. But if a craft has the power to freeze an entire country in time, surely it also has the power to create life. Or split it, perhaps. Loop: … But the king used time craft. What does that have to do with wish craft? Odile: The Head Housemaiden of Dormont believes wish craft is what gave him the power to stop time. Loop. W- How does she know about wish craft?? Odile: How do you, Loop? Loop: The— It’s— [Odile waits patiently.] Loop: The book! The, the diary, in that room, with the— the thing for the stars. It talked about wish craft. Odile: Ah, of course. The diary of a person who felt lonely and misunderstood, so they used wish craft to make a copy of themself. The diary you’ve never seen, because you… branched off, let’s say, the day before we fought through the House. Loop: Stardust told me about it! Odile: Of course. You know, they remember a surprising amount about the House? It's been several weeks, and you'd think between the traumatic injury the day before and the fevers afterwards, even the average person would consider it all a bit of a blur. But they still remember details that the others have forgotten, about conversations it seemed they were barely paying attention to. Even one or two things that I don't remember at all. [Loop breathes shallowly.] Loop: W— What are you implying? Odile: Nothing in particular. However shaky the wish craft theory seems, I'm even less sure about everything else. Loop: Well, you should be! Because there is nothing else! [Odile sighs.] Odile: I'm sorry, I know you don't want us knowing about these things. You and Siffrin both. But he's... not doing well. [Loop looks away.] Odile: And frankly, I don't think you are, either. But we can't help if we don't know what the problem is! It's your choice not to tell us, but I'm not going to stop trying to figure it out. Loop: It doesn't matter! The other things. He has you now, all four of you. You're helping. They'll be okay. Odile: What about you, Loop? Loop: ... I'm helping too. I'm trying. I'm here to help them. Odile: Loop... [Odile is about to say something, but stops. She takes a deep breath before continuing.] Odile: It would help a great deal if you and he could be more open with us. Loop: ... Odile: Can I take this as confirmation of my theory, at least? Loop: ... Not quite. Odile: But I'm close. [Loop doesn't claim otherwise.]

[spiderfunkz]

RED MEANS I LOVE YOU

pairings. cho hyun-ju x gn!reader

cw. canon violence, blood, hurt to comfort.

author's note: the hyun-ju hype can't die down guys!! please send some requests but i'm begging atp for u guys to read this beforehand.

if you could describe what you were seeing for the past few days, it would be that your vision was tainted in red. no matter how much you itch, scratch, wipe, or scrub off— you're bloodied in loss.

it didn't look pretty either. the person you were before is just a mere reflection in the mirror, you wanted to get off whatever island you were on. it's torture, that's for sure, you couldn't even imagine how stupid you were for accepting the concept in the first place. it was too good to be true and you knew it— maybe you did, you're not sure anymore.

although, amongst all the wreck and violence, you were able to find one highlight of the entire experience. no, it wasn't the relief after surviving a round, and it wasn't lunch breaks either.

it was cho hyun-ju.

the tall woman who almost peered over you by a bit. she found you after the break of the first game, she seemed tense— almost afraid, at first, you wondered why she was. it doesn't matter though, she embraced you with open arms and soon a bond began to blossom.

lights out would be spent with whispers about your past and laughs about jokes that lingered far behind your mind. hyun-ju shared stories and tales about her life, your heart beats with empathy and also admiration. she was so brave, kind, intelligent, strong, and trust-worthy. you hope to get through this game with the chances of you two meeting each other again.

"where are you from, hyun-ju?" her own name sent shivers down her skin, you said it with such sincerity. "i'm from gwangmyeong, i've since moved out." her face has a slight smile to it, it seems a bit bitter, "hey, i'm near gwangmyeong! we were long, longggg neighbors!" everything you said seems to lighten her mood even more.

you brought a sense of comfort to hyun-ju, especially in a place like this. you don't know how much she really needed it. she didn't feel the usual gut-wrenching, almost stomach inducing pain she usually does when she's with someone.

though, right now, you could barely think about any of those without panicking or losing your sanity. the games took a twist, another one, if you will. player 456's or gi-hun's plan was clear enough for you to understand, it played off well at first, but now, you were scared out of your head for hyun-ju.

it was impressive to see her lead and teach the others, her combat knowledge seemed incredible, must've been the army. you watched her explain in the comfort of your bed, she didn't take any other answer when she insisted that you stay in the safety of the games dormitories. you couldn't argue with her, it was the last thing you wanted.

you didn't doubt her abilities. she is well-skilled, yet there was an aching knaw that something is wrong. you didn't want to lose her.

but when hyun-ju and the others left the room, you just sat and begged that she would come back un-injured and alive. the group of people near you were supportive, including some other allies you managed to make during the six-legged pentathlon and mingle. without them, you wouldn't be able to be where you are now.

though a small portion of you wished you were somewhere else, you know, preferably your home, but this time; there were no more unexpected knocks, no more piles of letters reminding you of your nail-biting ending (a.k.a getting evicted), and no more stress about the things you could've gotten done earlier in your life— if only you had your path straight then.

your thoughts were snapped when a fellow player went into the room in a state you knew too well. he looked afraid, he was repeating a sentence you couldn't seem to make out, however, soon it became clear what it was. people tried to approach him but you knew better, he needed to calm down and do his part, and their scolding will not help.

your heart wanted to ease down but couldn't when you saw hyun-ju ran in. she wasn't supposed to come back so quickly, it made you sigh— maybe from relief, maybe from dread.

but oh, did the amount of blood on her make you want to puke.

it's sickening, to be surrounded by it too. there are stains of people's death all around the place, you can't even sleep. you haven't been sleeping. not even hyun-ju's touch could bring you back to the slumber you've grown to miss so much.

you stood up from the bed, she was facing player 388, or dae-ho. he was the one who went in, the one who looked absolutely terrified. he was trembling.

she hugged the magazines he collected earlier and she was about to run off again. but her eyes met your glossy and almost tear-filled ones.

"don't go, hyun-ju."

"i have to."

"you're gonna get hurt. you have so much blood on your face, oh gosh," your hand held up near her cheek, it's a hesitant move, but she leans into the touch. you wipe as much as you could off, "don't go, hyun."

she looks back and took a moment to think before looking at you again, she takes a deep breath. "okay, okay. don't get teary-eyed," she smiles, "i'm here, i'll keep you safe."

"okay, then." you were inhaling and exhaling as steady as you could. it still came out shaky, you were almost hyperventilating. "let me, just wipe this off." your hands gently trace the marks on her face, wiping away all the impurities and worries off of her.

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[chaoticwriting]

The Summoning

It's just your normal everyday Monday. You know. The worst day of the week. And wouldn't that be cemented with these cultists that are trying to summon some eldritch beings to take over the world or something.

The Justice League goes on full force that day since the cult, Follower of Darkness, has a very wide range of followers among them. From businessmen, martial artists and even metas. So it is quite a struggle for the league to stop the summoning and just as they reach the summoning room, the magic circle has already lightened up and glowing with green light.

Flash: Uh oh. That is not good.

Hal: You think so?

Superman: Focus. We need to stop it now.

They try to stop the cultists from finishing the summoning but a green barrier is erected around the cultists.

Batman: Zatanna, Constantine. Break the barrier.

Zatanna: We can't. The barrier is too strong to break in a short period of time.

Suddenly, a green portal opens up in the middle of the circle as the cultists continue to chant in a language even Constantine barely understands.

The more they chant, the bigger the portal becomes until suddenly it stops and begins to shrink drastically. Instead of some interdimensional eldritch beings, what comes out is a teenager with a paper and pencil and a clearly not happy face.

???: Can't all of you do this on a weekend? I have some serious homework catching up that I need to do.

Cultists:????

JL:????

???: Ugghh, what do you guys want anyway? If you want some world destruction or killing someone go ask some other guy.

Cultists: Oh great destroyer, we ask you to destroy our enemy and return the world to the rightful.

???: What part of no world destruction do you not understand? Would you like me to show you a slide presentation to explain?

Cultists: But- but we summoned you. We offer sacrifice so that you may fulfil our wish.

???: YOU DID WHAT??!! You kill someone just because you want to summon me?! That's it. You are super done. I'm sending all of you to jail.

Before the cultists can react, their bodies are completely frozen except for the head. The teenager folds the paper he is holding and puts both the paper and pencil in his pocket as he walks closer towards the cultists. Suddenly, all the ice starts to move and they converge together into one big ball of ice.

The teen approaches the barrier and punches a hole through it, causing it to disperse. Seeing the Justice League on the other side of the barrier gives the teen quite the scare as he accidentally shoots out a green ray from his hand towards them.

???: What the hell! What are you all doing here?

Superman flies closer cautiously as he tries not to startle the kid.

Superman: We are trying to stop the cultists from finishing the summoning. We are sorry to have bothered you.

???: Bothered me? They killed people just to summon me. I don't even know how they managed to find a way to summon me. I am pretty sure I already destroy all records of way for people to summon me.

Flash: Ermm, I'm pretty sure they don't kill anyone. They do prepare blood though. If not for the fact they actually try to summon an interdimensional being, we wouldn't have bothered with them.

The teen turns towards the cultists and sees them nodding heavily as if to confirm Flash's words. They can see the teen turn a shade greener as he releases them from their ice prison ball but still keeps them in ice shackles.

As Wonder Woman escorts the cultists out, the teen suddenly turns towards one of the Justice League as if he just finds out something important

???: CONSTANTINE!!

[arixella]

You get hurt and don't tell them pt.2 ' ft. law, ace, sabo

wc: 320 luffy, zoro, sanji shanks, kid, killer crocodile, mihawk, buggy

Trafalgar D. Water Law

-Law notices everything, so the fact that you hid your injury from him irritates him to no end.

“Do you think I’m blind, or just stupid? Sit down and let me take care of it.” His tone is sharp, but it’s because he’s worried.

-He’s meticulous when treating your injury, though his expression remains calm and collected. You can tell he’s annoyed by the way his brow furrows.

-Once you’re patched up, he leans against the wall and sighs, rubbing his temples. “You don’t have to deal with everything alone. That’s what I’m here for.”

-Later, he keeps a closer eye on you without making it obvious, and you catch him subtly checking on you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Portgas D. Ace

-Ace doesn’t notice right away because he’s so carefree, but the moment he realizes you’re hurt, he panics.

“You’re hurt?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” He’s practically bouncing around, trying to figure out what to do.

-He insists on taking care of you, even if he’s not great at it. “Stay still, okay? I’ll handle it!” (Spoiler: he might need help.)

-Ace feels a little guilty for not noticing sooner and makes up for it by being extra doting, constantly asking if you’re comfortable.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” He gives you his brightest smile and wraps you in a warm hug, vowing to protect you better from now on.

Sabo

-Sabo is calm and collected when he finds out, but there’s a flicker of worry in his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Were you afraid I’d overreact or something?” He gives a soft, teasing smile to lighten the mood.

-He carefully assesses your injury, making sure you’re okay while scolding you gently. “You have to be more careful, alright? I’d rather you rely on me.”

-Sabo is incredibly attentive, making sure you rest and even canceling his own plans to stay by your side.

-He talks to you softly, his voice full of warmth, reminding you that it’s okay to lean on him. “We’re partners, aren’t we? Stop trying to carry everything by yourself.”

♡♡♡

[gilbertscurls]

Bloody ➵ Chris Sturniolo

summary: chris has an accident, and you're the only one around.

Your Friday night plan was simple: curl up with a good book, sip some tea, and unwind after a long week of studying. But your phone buzzed, and you knew that peace wasn’t in the cards.

The message was from Chris: “Hey, can you come over? It's an emergency.”

Heart racing, you threw on a hoodie and grabbed your keys, ignoring the way your stomach twisted with worry. Chris wasn't one to panic or send cryptic messages, so if he said it was an emergency, it had to be serious.

You reached the apartment he shared with Matt and Nick in record time. When you knocked, Chris opened the door immediately, his hand gripping a towel pressed tightly to his arm.

“Shit, that's a lot of blood,” you said, your voice catching as you noticed the crimson seeping through the fabric.

“I know,” Chris winced. “I was making dinner, and… The knife slipped.”

Your worry softened slightly, but your eyes widened at the sight of his arm. “Chris, you need stitches.”

“Yeah, figured that much.” His voice was casual, but his face was paler than usual. “I tried calling Matt and Nick, but they're out, so… You were the only one nearby.”

“Let's get you cleaned up and to the ER. Come on.” You grabbed his good hand and guided him to the sink, trying to keep your own nerves in check.

As you helped clean his wound, Chris hissed in pain but stayed quiet, letting you take control. You were used to thinking on your feet, but seeing Chris hurt like this? That was something else entirely.

“You're gonna be fine,” you said, though more for yourself than him.

“I know. Just didn’t expect to almost lose an arm over spaghetti night.”

“Spaghetti night? You’re ridiculous.” You couldn't help but smile, despite the situation. Chris always had a way of lightening the mood, even when blood was involved.

You wrapped his arm in a cleaner towel, and you grabbed your bag, ready to head out. “Let’s go.”

As you both walked to your car, Chris leaned into you slightly, his usual swagger replaced with quiet gratitude. “Thanks for coming. I knew you'd show up.”

“Of course. I'm always here for you.” You tried to keep your voice steady, but the unspoken truth between you weighed on your chest. Your relationship was always more than just friends. You had danced around it for so long, but now, standing so close to him, you felt it all over again.

At the ER, after what seemed like hours of waiting and stitching, Chris was finally bandaged up. He shot you a lopsided grin as you both left. “I guess I owe you for this, huh?”

“You owe me dinner. Without the blood next time.”

“Deal.”

As you walked toward your car, the tension that had been brewing between you for months hung in the air. Chris stopped suddenly, turning to face you. “Y/N, I—”

“Yeah,” you smiled softly. “Maybe we can.”

“Don't,” you cut him off, though not unkindly. “You don't have to say anything right now. Just… Heal up.”

Chris nodded, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by something more vulnerable. “But when I’m better… Maybe we can talk?”

And as you drove off, both of you knew that the blood and the stitches weren’t the only things that had changed that night.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Between Fear and Trust

Summary - Grappling with the potential harm to her unborn child and the overwhelming anxiety of her protective husband, their love and trust are tested in a fragile dance of reassurance and emotional turmoil.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Pregnancy anxiety, injury

Word count - 2032

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Jacaerys Velaryon was a protective man, often to the point where his vigilance bordered on excessive. His concern, though rooted in love, sometimes felt stifling.

"I don't think you should be doing that," Jace said, his voice gentle but firm. I sighed softly, setting down the needlepoint in my hands before turning to face him.

"And what harm could possibly come from needlework?" I asked.

As he approached, I gestured to the fabric spread out on the table, the intricate design slowly coming to life.

"Look, it's Vermax," I said, pointing at the olive green and pale orange dragon that was beginning to take shape on the black tunic. 

The dragon's fierce eyes and outstretched wings were just starting to emerge from the fabric. I felt a swell of pride as I watched his eyes follow the delicate work.

Jace's expression softened into a tender smile as he looked at the half-finished dragon, and then back at me. The sight of my enthusiastic face, so absorbed in the craft, caused a wave of affection to surge through him. His gaze lingered on me, a mixture of admiration and concern.

"You're straining yourself," he said softly, his tone a blend of warmth and insistence. 

He stepped closer and gently helped me to my feet, his hands moving with a practised tenderness. His fingers brushed lightly against my swollen belly, and he began to rub it in soothing, circular motions. 

"Jace, you must cease this," I said with a gentle smile, placing my hand over his. His frown deepened, and I could see the concern etched into his features. "You're becoming overbearing."

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching mine. "I only want to keep you safe, to keep our child safe," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he cupped my face in his hand.

"I can't walk through these halls without feeling like I'm doing something wrong," I confessed, my voice tinged with frustration. "I care deeply for this babe too, but your constant worry... it frightens me."

Jace exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. When he pulled back, his frown remained, but there was a softness in his gaze.

"I don't mean to cause you distress," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. I nodded, understanding his intentions even if they sometimes overwhelmed me.

After a moment of silence, I shifted slightly "I could use some tea though," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Before the words were fully out of my mouth, Jace was already moving to stand.

"I'll get it for you," he said quickly, his voice filled with determination but I reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm to stop him.

"No, Jace. I think I can manage to fetch some tea," I said, my tone gentle yet firm. 

His hesitation was palpable, a visible battle between his desire to protect me and the recognition that I needed this small act of independence. His eyes flickered with concern as he looked at me, and I could see how difficult it was for him to let go.

"It's just tea," I added softly, attempting to soothe his worries. 

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he stepped back. "Just be careful," he murmured, his voice almost pleading as he watched me.

I gave him a reassuring smile, appreciating his concession. "I will," I promised, as I turned and made my way across the room.

As I reached the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, my thoughts drifting to a happier distraction. 

"Perhaps we could visit Vermax when I return," I suggested, my voice carrying a hopeful lilt. "I miss him dearly."

I heard Jace's quiet laughter from behind me, a sound that was both tender and indulgent. 

I knew it would take a great deal of convincing for him to agree to let me see the dragon again, especially considering my condition. But the thought of visiting Vermax seemed to lighten the mood, if only slightly.

Jace's voice followed me, a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You'll have to charm me into it, I suppose" he called out with a fond chuckle. 

I smiled to myself as I stepped into the hallway, the soft glow of the sconces casting a warm light on the stone walls.

The castle's usual grandeur was eerily muted, the soft thud of my footsteps on the cold, echoing stone a lonely sound in the vast, empty hallway. Each step seemed to reverberate with an ominous, hollow note.

The familiar surroundings, normally comforting, now felt like a path strewn with obstacles as I descended the grand staircase. 

The slight twist in my ankle was so sudden, so unexpected, that I barely had time to react before I felt myself falling. One moment I was moving cautiously, and the next, I felt my body lurch uncontrollably.

I tumbled down the last few steps, the world around me spinning in a blur of stone and panic. 

The impact was jarring, pain radiating through my body as I came to a stop on the cold floor. My ears rang, a sharp, disorienting sound that drowned out everything else. 

A thin, red line of blood trickled from the gash on my forehead, warm and sticky against my skin but all I could think about was the deep, gnawing fear that gripped my heart.

Anxiety clawed at me as I lay there, my breaths coming in short, frantic gasps. My hands flew instinctively to my swollen stomach, pressing down as if to protect the life within me.

"Please, please be okay," I whispered, the words trembling on my lips as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. 

I needed to get up, to find Jace, to reassure myself that everything was alright but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed by fear, by the pain that coursed through me, and by the overwhelming dread of what might have just happened.

"My lady," a voice gasped, cutting through the haze of my fear. 

I blinked, trying to focus on the figure rushing toward me. The armour clanked loudly in the quiet hallway, the sound harsh against the silence.

"Ser Erryk," I mumbled weakly, recognizing the Queensguard as he knelt beside me, his expression stricken with concern.

"My lady, are you hurt?" he asked urgently, his eyes scanning me for injuries. His hands hovered, unsure of where to touch, or how to help. 

I could see the panic in his eyes, the same panic I felt bubbling inside me.

"My... my head," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the blood trickling down my forehead. "And my ankle... but the babe..." My voice broke, and tears welled up in my eyes. "Ser Erryk, please, I need to get to Jace."

Without hesitation, Ser Erryk scooped me into his arms, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. 

The movement sent a jolt of pain through my ankle, and I winced, clutching my belly protectively as he began carrying me back to my chambers.

The journey was a blur of worry and pain, every step echoing my pounding heartbeat. The closer we got to the room, the more I felt the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me. 

By the time we reached the door, I was trembling, my mind a whirlwind of fear and guilt.

As Ser Erryk pushed the door open with his shoulder, Jace shot up from his seat, his face instantly pale with alarm when he saw me cradled in Ser Erryk's arms, blood smeared on my forehead.

"What happened?" Jace's voice was sharp, edged with panic as he rushed to my side, his hands immediately reaching for me. He looked between Ser Erryk and me, desperation in his eyes. 

"What happened?" he repeated, his voice breaking.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears I had been holding back burst forth, and I began to sob uncontrollably. 

"I'm so sorry, Jace," I cried, my voice trembling with guilt. "I fell—I shouldn't have gone—I'm so sorry." The words tumbled out in a frantic rush, my apologies intertwining with my sobs.

Ser Erryk quickly explained, his voice steady but grave. "She lost her footing on the stairs, my prince. It was an accident." 

His words were meant to soothe, but they did little to ease the storm of emotions that swirled within me.

Jace's eyes softened with anguish as he knelt beside the bed where Ser Erryk gently laid me down. He cupped my face with trembling hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

"Shh, it's alright," Jace murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"You're alright, and that's all that matters." His fingers were gentle as they stroked my hair, trying to calm me, but I could see the fear in his eyes, the same fear that was consuming me.

"I was just so scared," I choked out, my hands still clutching my belly as if to reassure myself that our child was safe. "I should have listened to you... I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault." He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering against the cut there as if he could kiss away the pain.

But the guilt still gnawed at me. "I just wanted to walk... to feel normal," I whispered, the words heavy with regret. "But I've made everything worse."

Jace shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

"You didn't do anything wrong. I just want you and our child to be safe. That's all that matters to me." His voice cracked as he spoke, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as if to shield me from everything that had happened.

I buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking into his tunic as he rocked me gently. His heartbeat was strong and steady against my ear, a constant reminder that I wasn't alone, that we were in this together.

"I'll take care of you," Jace whispered his voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

"We'll call for a maester," he continued, his tone steady and reassuring. "Everything will be alright." His gaze shifted to Ser Erryk, who stood nearby, concern etched into his features. 

With a nod of understanding, Ser Erryk left the chamber to fulfil Jace's unspoken command, the door closing softly behind him.

But as the door clicked shut, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over me. I pulled away from Jace's embrace, my hands trembling as I looked up at him, fear gripping my heart. 

"Jace... what if I've done something?" The words came out in a shaky whisper, my voice barely holding together as I voiced the deepest of my fears.

His expression softened immediately, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the remnants of my tears as he searched my eyes for the pain that haunted me.

"My love," he said, his voice tender but firm, "you've done nothing wrong." His words were like a lifeline, pulling me back from the abyss of my worries. 

"We must trust that the gods have good intentions for us. We've been blessed with this child, and we will see them into this world together."

Despite his reassurances, doubt lingered in my heart. "But what if—"

"Shh," Jace interrupted gently, pressing a finger to my lips. "No 'what ifs,'" he murmured, his gaze unwavering. "We cannot let fear dictate our lives. Whatever happens, we will face it together, as we always have."

He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, and I closed my eyes, letting his words sink in. The warmth of his breath against my skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the strength in his embrace all worked to calm the storm within me. 

Slowly, I began to breathe easier, the frantic pace of my thoughts slowing to match the rhythm of his heart.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice a gentle echo in the quiet room. "And I always will be."

As the moments passed, the tension in my body began to ease, replaced by a tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. 

A/n - Inspired by that one scene of Meredith falling down the stairs in Grey's.

[the-secret-keeper]

Where MC Tells the Obey Me Brothers About How Horribly They Were Treated in Twisted Wonderland

This was requested by @sweetlicorice I hope you like it! It was taking longer than expected, so I only did the brothers, but I will do the dateables in a part 2, don't worry.

Part 2 with the Dateables out now! (Characters included: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke)

TW: Talk of being Overworked and Burnt Out, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons (but not at you), mental breakdowns, missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry), and nightmares

Reader is referred to as MC by the characters (though I don't think they say it here) and MC is gender neutral, but this is mostly in second person, so for the majority of the story you'll be referred to as 'You' by the narrator.

Characters include: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Could be read as romantic or platonic

This will be long, so the stories under the cut

This is organized by character, with a bit of context at the beginning. Enjoy!

First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.

And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.

You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.

Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.

Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.

Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.

Lucifer:

You were in his office, as you did somewhat often. It was quieter in there than it was in most of the house, and no one would bother you if you were with him. Plus, sometimes he would let you take care of some of his paperwork, just the stuff that wasn't too sensitive or important, but it lightened his load a bit.

"Why do you insist upon helping me?" He asked, not looking up from his paper, as you looked at your own.

"I'm used to doing more work, and if it makes your job easier, then I don't mind." You shrugged.

"More work? Do you mean like a job?" He asked, somewhat curious. Your file had listed a lot, but you had, apparently, been missing for a while when you were brought to the Devildom, so he didn't know what you had been doing before coming there.

"Something like that." You vaguely answered, finishing a paper.

"I am always here if you need to talk." He glanced up at you, as you pulled out your homework instead.

"Thank you."

A comfortable silence fell over the you two. The ambiance of the fireplace, paired with the low volume on the record he was playing, along with the light scratching of his pen, was calming. His office was always dimly lit, enough to see easily, but also darker than the average room.

It was a quiet environment that reminded you of the days when you would sit in the office of Crewel, him taking pity on the amount of work shoved on you and attempting to help at least a little. Or the days when you would study with Ace and Deuce in the Heartslabyul Common Room, Riddle sitting nearby doing his own paperwork, and Grim resting lazily along your shoulders. It was comforting, yet sad, at the same time.

"Back, in the place where I was," you started softly after a few moments of silence, "there was more that was required of me."

"In what way?" He asked, and though you couldn't tell, off in your own world, he had stopped doing his paperwork to focus on what you were saying, fully enraptured in wanting to know your backstory.

"The headmaster, at my last school, his name was Dire Crowley. And he was terrible at his job." You laughed bitterly. "I showed up there one day, against my will, and practically started running the place once he thought I could handle it, or when he was certain I wouldn't complain." You glared at your paper, thinking back on all that was unfairly thrown at you.

"Like what?"

"Paperwork, was the majority." You answered without thinking. "But there were.... others."

"Others?" He prompted after a few moments of a now, much tenser, silence.

"Your demon form is scary." You looked at him, making eye contact. "But it is not as scary as facing seven Overblots within the span of a year."

"Overblots?"

"The manifestation of out of control magic and strong negative emotions that result in the transformation of the magic user, and the creation of a sort of monster. The magic user loses control of their entire being, and it's very taxing on the magic user." Your eyes were glazed over as you seemed to recite the information with no emotion in your voice. "I don't blame them, for Overblotting, and losing control, the world is cruel. I do blame Dire Crowley, however, for making me responsible for dealing with them."

"That sounds dangerous, for someone without magic."

"It was." You agreed, still looking towards him.

Not at him, but through him, as if you weren't registering how much you were saying. This made him all the more concerned, as he got up and walked over to you, sitting beside you.

"I was also responsible for whatever Dire Crowley wanted me to do. Feed the fireplaces over winter break, find out why our sports players are getting injured, stop that one student from taking over the student body, house these people for this inter-school competition, and on, and on." You listed, beginning to spiral. "I practically ran that school. Me! A magicless human who had no idea what they were doing or where they were or how to handle what was happening to me. He stuck me in a shack, filled with mildew, and mold, that was covered in dust, infested with ghosts, and falling apart at the seams with a fire-breathing cat. And he didn't even make me a student at first!" You looked at Lucifer, tears pricking your eyes. "I was a janitor! And when another student got myself, Grim, and another student in trouble, he was going to throw me out! Onto the streets with no understanding of the world, how it functions, or anything at all!"

Lucifer nodded, trying to get you to calm down silently, wanting to hear about your past, even though it was painful.

"And he'd threaten me, Lucifer! He'd threaten my housing, my food budget, and I had no means of income! I couldn't pay for myself in any regard, I was completely dependent on him! I was his little puppet. The puppet of the 'oh so gracious Dire Crowley'." You began to sob as emotions started to overcome you, them all spilling out as you finally let yourself feel safe enough to feel these emotions. "I was so scared! About what would happen to me, and my friends. I didn't know what the next day would bring."

He brought you into his chest, hugging you tightly, and allowing your tears to stain his red vest. He let you sob and weep as you finally allowed yourself to process the emotions you'd been keeping inside this whole time. He kept his breathing even, trying to get you to match it subconsciously, and he gently rocked you, trying to calm you down as best he could.

"I miss Grim!" You cried out, into his chest. "I miss him so much that it hurts. I feel so anxious without him around."

He didn't ask who Grim was, but he knew it was someone important. He'd ask you about it when you were calmer, for now, he'd just let you cry to your hearts content. It had been a long time since someone had come to him, and allowed him to see them crying, but he didn't mind it so much when it was you. He took pride in being someone you felt safe enough to cry around.

No more paperwork got done that night, but he didn't care. You were more important at that point in time, and Diavolo would understand, he assured you of this, when you tried to apologize for taking up his time and crying on him. He brought up that Diavolo would be more mad if he hadn't comforted you, which made you laugh. You were so tired from crying that not long after you calmed down, you drifted off in Lucifer's arms, on the couch in his office.

Mammon: 

You were hanging out in Mammon's room one night, trying to help him study. Mammon was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, the main issue you were having was the effort in which he was putting in. Which was zero. He was much more interested in his video game than his homework, despite the fact that Lucifer had threatened to string him up from the ceiling should he not get a satisfactory grade.

It was almost nice, how familiar this felt. The arguing with him about studying gave you a nostalgic feeling, for when you would study with your First Year friend group, and you would try to pry Ace away from his video games. It was never effective, much like now, but the nostalgia made you keep trying to convince him.

Mammon himself didn't seem to notice the effect this was having on you, too focused on his video game. Not that you cared, better for him to remain oblivious that try to pry your secrets out of you.

You sighed, closing the textbooks that you had brought in, accepting the fate of his grade, and making a mental note to find a spot to at least try to hide him from Lucifer. You watched as he played the game for just a few more minutes before you crawled over, sitting beside him as he played, watching the screen.

"Why're ya so good at homework in the Devildom anyway?" He asked, in the blunt way he normally does.

"Diavolo adjusted my curriculum because I don't know much about the Devildom, so I get assignments that are easier." You admitted, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "I appreciate it, my last headmaster wasn't nearly so accommodating." You mumbled bitterly, thinking back on that incompetent headmaster.

"Really? How's that?" He asked, only half-paying attention, as he spam-clicked the button on the controller to his video game.

"Eh, don't think too much about it. Crowley was stupid, and though he claims he was gracious, he was really anything but. At least to me."

"What's 'at supposed to mean?" He asked before exclaiming nonsensical, frustrated sounds at his loss in the video game.

"I was basically his Barbatos, but I wasn't paid. Hell," You laughed mirthfully, "what money I was supposed to get was threatened, actually. More than once."

"Really?"

His attention was still diverted, and you noticed this. He was likely only wanting to hear your voice for background noise while he played, but you didn't mind so much. At least now you can say you told someone. Even if he wasn't listening.

"Yeah, Crowley threatened my food and housing budget more than once. And he'd push all his work onto me, even though I really shouldn't have had that much responsibility put on me. After all, I was someone without magic in a magic-teaching school, from another world. I didn't know anything." You shrugged lightly, trying not to move Mammon's arm too much, because your head was still resting on his shoulder. "I can't say I miss that part of it."

"What do ya miss then?" He asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

"My friends. I had a group of friends that were pretty tight-knit. Trauma bonded, more like it." You laughed. "And Grim. I miss Grim."

"Grim?"

"My cat."

"Ya sound like Satan."

"Grim was a special cat. He could use magic, and fly, and talk. You remind me of him sometimes." At that he finally paused the game to look at you.

"I, remind ya of... a cat?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah." You smiled, laughing lightly. "He was sarcastic, and demanding, and greedy. He called me Henchman, you call me Human." He rolled his eyes. "But underneath your... bravado, is a very nice person, who cares a lot. Grim and I... we only had each other. So it just makes sense that we bonded. I miss him, a lot. He used to sleep in my bed, and he'd always be there with me. I've been having trouble sleeping without him. It just feels like there's something missing." You admitted in a soft and sad tone. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"I'll be yer Grim 'til we can convince Diavolo or Barbatos, or maybe Solomon to get yer cat." He said quietly, rubbing your upper arm. "Ya can sleep in here whenever ya need, ok?" You nodded. "Wanna watch a movie?" You smiled at him, nodding once more, as he turned the TV to one of the bajillion streaming services the family all pay for, because they share, and arguing with you about the best movie to watch.

Leviathan:

Leviathan was out in public with you, having gone to an anime themed event at a cafe in the Devildom. He was so excited, that you just couldn't resist when he asked if you wanted to go with. It was nice to hear him rant and ramble about all the things that he was passionate about.

"There's a cat in the anime that waitress is from! And he's super cool!" Levi started. "He can fly, and talk, and use magic. He's also very stubborn, like a donkey. But he's a favorite in the fandom because of how cute he is."

"I know someone like that." You mumbled without thinking, your mind wandering to your feline friend.

"You do?!" He asked excitedly.

"Yeah." You smiled. "His name was Grim, and he used to live with me, back in the time before."

"Really? Tell me more!"

"He wasn't super smart, or very hard working. He used to call me Henchman, and demand cans of tuna. But when it came down to it, Grim was the one I could rely on the most. But, that might also be because we literally couldn't leave each other." You told him.

"You couldn't?"

"No. I don't have magic, and he did. I'm human, he was a cat. The headmaster of my last school decided to be 'oh so gracious'," you quoted, making air quotes around his catchphrase, "and make the two of us one singular student, allowing us to attend his magic school."

"That seems... dumb. To say the least."

"It was." You deadpanned, before the both of you laughed. "He was a bad headmaster. Towards the end of my stay there, I was practically headmaster, just because of how much work he pushed onto me because he could. But while I was at that school I made friends. And I had Grim. Even if the situation I was in was less than ideal." You smiled as the waitress delivered the food you ordered, with a bundle of silverware.

"Ah. I bet you'd prefer them to an otaku like me."

"Not true!" You defended, pointing your fork at Leviathan. "I like you plenty fine, Levi. You actually remind me a lot of my friend Idia. But," you laughed awkwardly, "at least you leave the house sometimes, and aren't afraid of confrontation. Or, at least, you're not afraid to confront some people. Like your brothers." You set your fork down, stopping your silent threat at Levi, that wasn't actually very threatening to him.

"He was an otaku too?"

"Yes indeed, and a master gamer to boot."

"Better than me?"

"It's hard to say." You shrugged. "The games you guys play are similar, but different. It's not a fair comparison." He seemed placated by this answer. "Your brothers remind me of a lot of my friends from there." You said vaguely.

"Do you miss them?"

"Yeah. They're my friends, of course I miss them. And it's not like I know if and when I'll be able to see them again." You explained gently. "I don't miss the work though. Diavolo was nice and assigned me a tutor and easier assignments until I get the hang of the normal work here. And no one makes me do any extra work, or threatens my food or housing. Well, Lucifer threatens punishments sometimes, but he would never threaten my food or housing, and I won't get punished as long as I do my best and behave." You rambled, smiling at how nice it was here, compared to it was in Twisted Wonderland. "Plus, I have all of you, and Diavolo, and Barbatos, and the other exchange students. I miss my friends from there, and I really wish that I had Grim here with me. But I am happy here." You beamed.

"Maybe if we ask Lucifer, he may know how to get your cat." Leviathan suggested, smiling lightly.

"I would love that. He acts like Mammon, but he feels like an emotional support cat. And, I bet Satan would seriously love having him here too."

"You know, we're all here. If you want to talk."

"I know." You glanced around. "What anime is that cosplay from?" You asked, gesturing at another waitress, changing the subject.

He glanced, and started beaming, immediately launching into a rant about the anime it's from, and the character themself. It was nice that he didn't question the change in subject. You'd tell Levi and the others all about what happened to you, and about what Twisted Wonderland was like. Eventually. Maybe.

Asmodeus:

Saying Asmo was flirty, was an understatement. Possibly the understatement of the century. And while he flirted and charmed nearly every being in existence, he did understand consent, and took every no at face value, stopping when asked. Of course, it's a rejection, so at the beginning you had to explain that no, you're not rejecting him as a person, you like him plenty fine as a person, you just don't always want to be flirted with.

He still did it, but when you asked him to stop he'd make a show of whining about it, but stopping nonetheless. It was annoying, but he did take your 'no' seriously, so in the end it was kind of worth it. Asmo was good for conversation, and he knew all the gossip, so he was nice to hang out with.

You had mentioned a handful of times that he reminded you of someone where you were from where you used to live. But all he ever said in response was that there was no one like him. Which is true, as no one else could truly embody Lust like Asmodeus does.

He was doing a skincare night with you, when you brought it up again.

"You know a lot about skincare already, it's quite impressive." He complimented.

"Yeah, had a friend who took it very seriously." You agreed.

"Is this the same friend that I remind you of?"

"Tis." You smiled, gently rubbing the moisturizer onto his face. "He was an interesting man."

"Interesting man? Interesting how?"

"He was insanely hard working, yet it seemed no one saw that." You started, taking a deep breath. "He was an actor, and social media influencer. And he was talented. Extremely talented. He worked hard to get where he was, but he had the means to get there."

"Anything else I should know about this person?"

"Well, he was good at potions. And like, just as good if not better than Satan and Solomon, good. He had the harshest study routine, but it was worth it. Never failed a potions class if he was tutoring me. He didn't have much time to do so, but I was always grateful when he did." You thought back on the memories fondly, smiling, as you stopped rubbing the moisturizer into his skin, and moving onto the next step. "His methods were.... intense, to say the least." Your smile became strained, remembering the VDC. "But, they got the results he wanted, so I guess he didn't see much issue with it."

"Intense in what way?" Asmo asked, noting your tenseness.

"I was appointed manager for a dance team, an interschool competition thing, you know how competitive people can get." You shook your head lightly. "They all came to live in my dorm because it was mostly empty. But, despite me being manager, he decided I needed to follow the same diet as everyone else. My friends said it was a 'we're all in this together' thing, but I thought he was just being unreasonable. I mean, come on, hexing my food? That's just wasteful. And he didn't even pay me back. I didn't get much money for food in general, because I was the magicless student, and there he went, just wasting what I had." You laughed mirthfully, remembering your anger at the situation, and your frustration.

"Well, in his defense, if he was just looking out for you."

"I would have no problems if that were the case, Azzy." You slightly chastised, but it was playful, and held no real bite. "I took your diet in stride, didn't I?" He nodded in acknowledgement. "I would've been fine with it, if that were the case. But he never paid me back for the food that he hexed, or replaced it. I didn't have much, so no one being able to eat those foods, it was wasteful. I mean, it's not like I got much money, if any, from the school for dorm food, like every other dorm."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"I was the magicless student. The errand person. The pushover. The unpaid therapist or headmaster. Depends on the day." You sighed. "The headmaster didn't want to have to rewrite the budget to factor in an extra dorm, when it only had two students in it, that really only amounted to one student."

"Wait, I thought you've mentioned before that you had a roommate."

"I lived with a fire-breathing, flying, talking cat named Grim, who could use magic, and several ghosts. I say technically one student, because the ghosts were faculty members, technically, but Grim had magic, and I didn't, but I was human and Grim was a cat. So, when I popped out of the woodwork, with no magic, no identification, no way to go home, and no clue about how this world worked, the headmaster was 'oh so gracious'," you mocked, "and put us both in a run down dorm, enrolled as a single student."

"Run down?"

"I mean Run Down. It was called Ramshackle, by other students, and it certainly lived up to it's name. The heater didn't work, I had to curl up with Grimm under every blanket I could find in that house. It was caked in mold and mildew, and dust, until Crowley cleaned it for the VDC. I injured myself more than once." You pointed to a scar on your forearm, where you'd hurt yourself in an attempt to fix up your dorm. "I am, honestly, very grateful, for the opportunity to stay here, in much better conditions. I do miss my friends, and I miss Grim." You admitted.

"Is that why you named that stuffed animal Grim? I thought you were just taking after Mammon in your greed."

"I miss Grim." You stated simply. "He was always with me. We were inseparable. We fought, we bickered, but at the end of the day, I knew if there was one thing, one being, I could rely on consistently, it was Grim. He was my ride-or-die. I named my stuffed animal after him, because I have a hard time sleeping without him. Even just, relaxing, can be hard. I miss him, and I don't know if he's ok. I genuinely, worry about him. And I miss him so much, that it's hard to fully put into words."

"I'm sorry." He offered, and you just smiled at him.

There was not much more Asmodeus could say. He couldn't provide you the comfort that you craved, as he was not your cat, nor could he get you your cat. So, he extended his sympathies, and access to his bed whenever you would like. For cuddles, or for more, he was always down for whatever.

He only hoped that his efforts to be there, and open for you, helped to heal you a little bit in the long run.

Satan:

Satan was nice to be around. He was curious, and he liked to know things and ask questions, so he did tend to pry into your past. But he was always good for book recommendations, and was always happy to discuss any book you wanted.

You found comfort in his fondness for cats, finding a kindred spirit in that regard. You didn't tell him about Grim, not wanting to get his hopes up about maybe meeting your beloved companion. He did notice your love of cats though, and had gotten you a giant cat plushie, as a gift.

You had named it Grim, and it lived on your bed. It was much quieter, and honestly, a bit boring compared to the real thing, but it was good for cuddling in the night when you couldn't sleep because you missed your furry friend. You were grateful that Satan had brought you just a bit of comfort in those moments, even if he didn't know it.

"I had a cat." You started one day when he started reading off cat facts enthusiastically after you had expressed the slightest bit of interest. "He was a rather interesting thing."

"Really? What was he like?" Satan liked to hear you talk about your past in general, but he was especially excited to hear about your cat.

"His name was Grim. And he was big, like 2 feet tall. He had a very distinct look about him. Grey fur, with a white chest," Satan nodded, listening intently, "bright, big, blue eyes. So round they almost looked scary sometimes. His ears, they had blue fire coming out of them, and his tail was shaped like a pitchfork. And he could use magic! He could breathe fire, and fly, effortlessly. He could talk too. Used to talk my ear off." You smiled fondly, happy to be able to talk about your favorite creature. "He'd call me Henchman, or Hench Human. He was a trouble maker. Mammon reminds me of him that way."

"Oh." Satan almost groaned.

"But much like Mammon, at the end of the day, push comes to shove, you can rely on him. That was one of the few things I knew for certain back then. Grim was the only one I could fully rely on. I had other friends, but Grim and I, we were inseparable. He was my best friend. He used to sleep in my bed with me, every night. I'm so used to it, it's honestly.... kind of hard to sleep without him." You admitted, laughing tiredly. "I miss Grim."

"Were you allowed pets, or familiars, at your last school?"

"No. No, I don't think we were." You answered after a moment of thought. "But Grim was a special case. He and I crashed the entrance ceremony. I wasn't supposed to be there, and got yoinked out of another world, but he was just straight up trespassing because he wanted so badly to go to that school, and become a great mage." You laughed at the memory. "He committed arson, I helped calm him down, and the rest is history. We weren't students, originally. We were janitors. The Headmaster only let us stay because I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I proved that Grim could be helpful."

"I thought you said you were a student?"

"I was. Half. I was half of a student." You smiled, taking a tired, yet fond, sigh. "I didn't have magic. But Grim did. So, Crowley determined that we would each be half of a student. He got us both into so much trouble, but he always helped me get out of it. I could always rely on Grim. Except in schoolwork," you admitted, laughing a little, "I was alone in that portion."

A million questions ran through his head, and you could tell the gears were turning. It was almost amusing, seeing him trying to decide on what topic to pick. Should he keep going about your cat? Pry about your headmaster? Ask about your clearly troubled past at this school?

He was quiet, but it wasn't tense, or awkward, just comfortable silence, as you patiently awaited his next question. You knew Satan would choose his words carefully, so as to not make you uncomfortable, so you had no fears. You really didn't want him to ask about Grim's homework habits though. Satan prioritized intelligence, and knowledge. You wanted him to have a good impression of Grim, since you thought the two would get along, despite Grim being similar to his older brother, Mammon.

It took him a few moments, you, peacefully sipping your favorite hot drink, as you waited patiently, reading your book, before he finally picked a topic.

"Was your headmaster, truly that bad?" He asked softly.

"His favorite trick to get me to do what he wanted, when I didn't want to, was to threaten me. My food budget, my housing budget, or even my security at the school. I had others I could rely on, should this happen. The other Housewardens tended to take pity on me when I would show up, practically begging for food, because Crowley wouldn't allow me to have any. They were good people. But I always made sure Grim had stuff to eat. I never let him suffer. He actually learned to share through this. But, a diet of tuna sandwiches, just isn't that good for your health. It was better than nothing though." You shrugged, not looking up from your book. You looked up, to see him looking at you, sadness painting his eyes. "I'm doing better now, Satan." You smiled.

"I don't want to pry, but I do have more questions." You took a deep breath.

"Can I answer them later?" You asked, to which he nodded.

"Take your time."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can you look through your books, to see if there's a spell, or an incantation, or a potion, or a ritual, that will help me get Grim? I'm worried about him, and, as you can see," you gestured to your eyebags, which Asmo had tried to hide using makeup, but it was late, so they were started to peek through, "being without him takes a toll. He's like my emotional support cat, you know? My sassy, lazy, loud, annoying, emotional support cat, that I love. And I miss."

"I'll see what I can do." He nodded. "No promises, but I'll look into it."

"That's all I ask." You smiled tiredly.

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub had eaten the majority of the fridge again, and it was your turn to make dinner. You sighed, as he looked at you guiltily. It was getting too close to when you absolutely needed to start cooking so you could serve dinner on time, so you couldn't go shopping for more. You just shook your head, and got to work taking everything out of the fridge and pantry, just to see what was left.

"I'm sorry." Beel offered. "I'll help you cook."

"I've done more with less." You said, not registering his offer, and looking over the ingredients that were left, as you had caught him before he could eat everything. "I just need some time."

"I didn't leave you much. I could go to the store, and get some more." He offered.

"Beel," You looked at him, smiling in amusement. "How much of what you get me would you eat on the way home?" He looked down guiltily once more. "I'm not mad," you assured, "really, I'm not. And I appreciate your offer of help. But I've got this." You smiled once more, before turning back to the ingredients, and picking up a few.

With what little you had, you'd started to make a large delicious meal. Beelzebub watched, in what could only be described as awe, as you stretched what you had into enough to feed the brothers, and something that tasted good. He still felt guilty about eating the majority of what you could've used to make dinner, but he was grateful you weren't mad, and he was curious as to how you knew how to make so little go so far.

After you served the brothers, you kept a little for yourself, and Beelzebub noticed. He noticed that you didn't take much, and when he tried to comment on it, you just winked at him, smiling. After dinner, he was designated for clean up, and you went into the kitchen to keep him company, as he had while you were cooking.

"How did you do that? There wasn't much left, but that was a good meal."

"My last school.... I didn't have much." You started vaguely. "My food budget was small, and often taken away, so I would take what little I was able to beg or barter for from the shop keeper, or the other Housewardens, or my friends, and I'd make it stretch. It helped that they often had some leftovers, especially Scarabia, with their feasts every week. And Jamil was a fabulous cook." You complimented, your mouth watering at the thought of his delicious and carefully prepared food. "But I digress. What I'd do is, I'd prepare meals in advance, as many as I could. I had to. Starvation sounded rather unpleasant, to me."

"It was that bad?"

"Not if I planned correctly." You smiled.

Beelzebub related to the feeling of hunger, and starvation. He was often brushed aside as always hungry because he's the Avatar of Gluttony. But the pain was always there, and it was hard to describe the pain aside from, hungry. You were always patient with him, even if he got grumpy because of his hunger, and now he was starting to see why.

If you understood the feeling of being hungry all the time, and starving to a painful point, it makes sense that you'd not get mad at him. It makes sense to him, that you'd be patient with him. He had always appreciated your patience and kindness, but he had never questioned it. Now he was starting to think he should've.

"Was it just you?"

"No. I had a cat with me. His name was Grim, and he was a lot like Mammon." You described cheerfully. "He mostly ate cans of tuna, which I could get for cheap at the school shop, they weren't super popular, and students tended to leave them at the shop after realizing they were the cheapest option of food I had." You laughed awkwardly. "It was a school of ruffians, and bullies, and people who hated me. But they had the decency to not want me to starve to death."

"You were hated?"

"By some. I wasn't popular, but I had my fair share of friends, don't worry." You assured. "I had the first years friend group, and the Housewardens, and the vice-housewardens and honorary vicehousewardens. Even a lot of the teachers liked me. And even if they didn't, I still had Grim. He was my best friend."

"Was?"

"He's still there, so he still is. We're just not together right now. It's like... it's like a part of me is missing, because he's my best friend." You tried. "And he's still there, but I can't see him, and I can't talk to him. I miss him, a lot. I think you'd like him." You smiled. "He used to sleep on my bed, every night. And he'd complain, and whine, and get both of us into trouble, but he was loyal to a fault, and he was always there when I needed him."

"Was your old headmaster that bad?"

"Oh yeah." You nodded enthusiastically. "He went on vacation so often, and it was more like I was the headmaster towards the end of my time there. What with the amount of paperwork and such I was handling in his stead. On top of schoolwork! And he put me in an old decrepit house, with a fire breathing cat. Granted, I asked for the cat to remain with me, but still. I'm sure he could've found somewhere else to put me."

"That sounds awful."

"It could be. But hey, think of it this way, now I'm prepared if you do this again." You teased. He nodded. "Don't feel too bad, Beel. You didn't even know I existed, you couldn't have done anything."

"I wish you would've told us."

"It's not easy to talk about." You admitted. "It's not like... I had the best experience with a lot of people there. I mean, Overblots, burnout, hunger, on top of basically being an unpaid therapist, an unpaid headmaster, and a full-time student? I was busy, and not every experience is a pleasant one. But it's a part of my life, and I wouldn't change it for anything. Because it was my experience." You explained. He nodded in understanding. "I think you'd like the people I met before. So many good cooks. And Lilia, who is on par with Solomon." You shuddered. "But there was also so many athletics clubs. I bet you'd really like Spelldrive." You smiled.

"Spelldrive?"

"Yeah!"

As you launched into an in-depth explanation of the sport, at least as you understood it, he simply watched. He was glad you'd opened up to him, and to hear that you weren't always alone. He would probably ask Satan if he could find anything about getting your cat for you. But for now, he was just happy to see you being comfortable enough to talk about your past.

Belphegor:

Belphegor liked to visit your dreams whenever you'd let him. They were always so interesting. They almost matched you, in that regard. As you were so strange in his eyes. He was very lucky, able to explore your good dreams. Dreams that told of friends, and adventure. Light hardship, sure, but mostly wonder. And happiness. Along with a cat that seemed to pop up in every dream. He didn't know that he only saw this because he didn't always tune into your dreams. Not every dream is a happy one.

It was one day, when you happened to be taking a nap in his general vicinity, that he drifted off, and entered your dream. He prepared himself for the bright light of the outside of Night Raven College, and for the happy smiling faces, or the sound of laughter, as he usually saw when he joined your in your dreams. What he wasn't expecting, was the fire. The screaming, the fear. He was prepared to watch on happily as you got to see your friends, the people you consider family, in your dreams, but instead, he only saw your terror.

He couldn't look away as you looked on in terror as eight towering figures, covering in black ink, with massive ink monsters behind them cornered you. He recognized some of these faces, they were those of your friends. They were friends, friends who would drive you to work harder, and do better, but would always be there to help in any way they could, if they could, when you asked.

But there was one face he was shocked to see, moreso than the friends. It was your cat. Your cat that had been changed into a hulking, massive beast, and it looked more wild than he had ever seen. It wasn't talking anymore, none of those smart ass comments he'd overhear, it was growling at you, roaring at you. It had never done that before.

Belphegor, unable to stand by as you feared for your life, even in a dream, quickly made his way to in front of you, his back to you.

"You need to wake up."

You heard him, but his voice was muddled in your panic, it sounded like he was under water. You looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Wake! UP!" He commanded.

You shot up, gasping for air, as you woke up. Belphegor followed not long after, making his way over, and sitting beside you, as you began to calm down from such a panic-inducing dream. He sat beside you until your breathing was under control, and you weren't shaking as much anymore.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, and feeling embarrassed. It wasn't often that you had these nightmares, but they were always intense and unpleasant when you did. You didn't think he knew, he'd never visited those dreams. It's not as though you were actively hiding it, you'd told him that you'd had nightmares before, but you were ashamed that he had seen them firsthand.

You both just sat in silence for several moments, before he spoke first.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, softly.

"They don't know about the nightmares. I mean, my closer friends do, but those who the nightmares are about, don't. They don't need that."

"Why are they in your nightmares? And why did they look like that?"

"They lost control of their emotions, and their magic overwhelmed them. They weren't in control, when they looked like that. That was their anger, and sadness, their pain, that was in control of them, with their magic creating the ink monsters behind them." You explained, quietly. "I don't blame them, no one can be expected to hold it together for so long, but that doesn't make it any less unpleasant."

"And your cat?"

"I don't know why I have nightmares about him like that." You admitted. "I think it's because I miss him, and I'm scared of what will happen to him without me there."

"How long have you had these nightmares?"

"They started after the first Overblot, that's what they're called," you explained simply, "but they only got worse as more Overblots happened."

"Was there no one you could go to?" You shook your head.

"I couldn't go to Crowley, he was useless," you laughed humorlessly, "the teachers were nice, but they couldn't do anything. I told my friends, and they tried their best, but nothing ever really helped. Grim used to sleep on my bed with me, and that would chase the nightmares away pretty well, but," you trailed off.

"You don't have him with you now, so the nightmares are back with a vengeance?" You nodded, smiling a little at his wording. He wrapped an arm around you. "Do you miss him?"

"I do."

He knew you did, he knew that was a redundant question. But he wanted to hear it from you, as a sort of confirmation. He felt bad that you missed your cat, and he wished he could do something about it, but he knew he couldn't. So you two just sat in silence, comforted by the warmth of the room, and the calm atmosphere around the two of you.

He had always wondered why, or even how, you'd taken his actions in stride. How you'd forgiven him so easily. He knew now, that it was just in your nature after having gone through so much at your last school. He decided in that moment that he'd make an effort to be the person to hold a grudge on your behalf, to let people know that you may have forgiven them, but he certainly hasn't, and he hasn't forgotten what they've done to you. He didn't voice this, but he knew that you knew how he felt.

But for now, you two just sat there, comfortable, and warm. He wanted to apologize, and say he'd do everything in his power to get you your cat, but he didn't want to say that without a guarantee that he could do it. So there you sat, close, and comfortable.

"I'll chase your nightmares away." He offered, just barely a whisper, yet because of your proximity, you heard it.

"Thanks Belphie." You smiled tiredly, happy to hear that he would protect your dreams.

You drifted off not long after, Belphie following close behind. But he kept his word, and your nightmares didn't plague you after that, whenever Belphie could help it.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Here For A Good Time

Summary: A birthday boy who lost a game but won a round.

Warnings: Birthday sex, Teasing, Riding, Mentions of reader being girlfriend but no real body mentions, Slight begging, Kissing, Mention of marking and biting, PWP, No protection, Mention of round 2.

Word Count: 3.1k

As Nico Hischier, captain of the New Jersey Devils, stepped onto the ice for his team's game against the San Jose Sharks on his birthday, he was filled with a mix of anticipation and excitement. He knew that his team was going to face a tough opponent, but he also knew that anything was possible on a special day like today. You were in the stands watching him play, cheering him on even though you were separated by distance. As the game went on, it quickly became apparent that the Sharks were dominating.

Nico nodded, grateful for your understanding and comforting presence. As you both walked out of the arena and towards the nearest bar, he realized that even though he hadn't won the game on his birthday, he was lucky to have someone like you by his side, willing to make sure that he still had a good night. "You know," he said as they settled down at a table in the bar, "I'm glad you're here with me. I don't know what I'd do without you." "Aw," you said, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "You'd manage. But I'm glad I can be here for you tonight." You lifted your glass, holding it out towards him. "To your birthday, even if the game didn't go the way you wanted it to." You spoke happily. "To my birthday," he echoed, clinking his glass against yours. "And to you, for being the best girlfriend a guy could ask for." As you sipped your drinks, the atmosphere between you loosened up a bit. By now, the earlier disappointment was already fading, replaced by the warm and fuzzy feeling of being in each other's company. "I have a surprise for you," you said suddenly, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Nico cocked an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise? What kind of surprise?" "Well, win or lose, but since you didn't win the game tonight, I figured you deserved a little something special." You reached into your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular box, wrapped in silver wrapping paper. Nico's face lit up with curiosity as she slid the box across the table to him. "What is it?" he asked, picking it up and gently shaking it. "Open it and find out," you teased, watching him eagerly as he began to tear off the wrapping paper.

As the final buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game, the Devils had unfortunately lost the match, with a final score of 2-3.

Nico's head hung low as he skated off the ice, clearly disappointed with the outcome. He had been hoping to win the game on his birthday, but unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be. As Nico emerged from the locker room, cleaned and dressed up after the game, he could see you waiting for him, a sympathetic look on your face. You knew how much he had been looking forward to the game, and you could tell that he was taking the loss hard. "Hey," you said softly, as he approached. "You okay?" Nico glanced up at you, his eyes still downcast. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just…disappointed, I guess." You nodded softly. "I know," you replied, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But it's just a game, you know. You did your best out there, and that's all that matters." You spoke with a smile up at him "I know," he said, nodding. "But it's my birthday. I was really hoping we could win tonight." You smiled sympathetically. "I know you were. But hey, we can still make the night special, right? We can still celebrate your birthday." You tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah," he said, a small smile finally appearing on his face. "Yeah, we can do that. I think I need a drink, though." "I figured you might," you said with a laugh. "Come on, let's head out to the bar and toast your birthday, even if it didn't go exactly how you wanted it to."

Nico peeled away the paper and opened the box to unveil its contents. Inside, nestled snugly in a bed of tissue paper, was a brand new watch, gleaming and sparkling in the dim light of the bar. "Wow," he breathed, picking up the watch and taking in its elegant design. "It's beautiful. But you didn't have to get me anything, you know." "I know," you said, smiling mischievously. "But I wanted to. Besides, it's not just any watch. It's a special watch with a secret surprise." Nico looked at the watch again, more closely this time. "A secret surprise?" he asked, turning it over in his hands. "What do you mean?" Playfully rolling your eyes as you spoke up. "Press the button on the side," you instructed, gesturing to the small, round button on the edge of the watch. Nico obeyed, pressing the button with his thumb. As he did, the face of the watch suddenly lit up, revealing a hidden digital display. On the display, the words "Happy Birthday Nico" appeared, spelled out in neon blue letters. Nico's mouth dropped open in surprise, his eyes wide with wonder. "Did you…?" he asked, looking up at you, incredulous. You grinned at him, clearly pleased with his reaction. "I know, I know, it's a little cheesy," you said, "But I thought it was pretty cool. And it's something you can wear all the time, to remind you of me and your special day…" Nico was speechless for a moment, his stunned expression slowly giving way to a soft smile of admiration. "It's amazing," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I love it. And I love you." "I love you too, birthday boy," you replied, reaching out to take his hand. "And I'm glad I could make your night a little better, even if your team didn't win."

"You always make my nights better, even if we lose," he said, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "I don't know what I'd do without you, honestly." "You'd be just fine, I'm sure," you teased, taking a sip of your drink. "But I don't ever want to find out, for the record. I like being your girlfriend too much." Nico chuckled, feeling the tension and disappointment of the game slowly melt away. With her by his side, he felt invincible, like he could handle anything. "You're stuck with me, then," he said, squeezing her hand affectionately. Nico groaned as he collapsed onto the bed, still feeling the exhaustion from the game earlier in the night. "I can't believe I'm this tired," he mumbled, rolling onto his side to face you. You chuckled softly, rolling onto your side as well so that you were facing each other. "You played hard out there tonight," you said, tracing a lazy pattern on his bare chest with your fingers. "It's no wonder you're worn out." "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, closing his eyes and savoring the feeling of your touch. "Still, I feel like I should be doing something to celebrate my birthday. Like, we should be out partying or something." You shook your head, smiling softly. "You've had enough for one day. You need to rest and recover. Besides," you added, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I have a little surprise for you, if you're up for it." That piqued his interest. His eyes flickered open and he looked at you with curiosity. "A surprise, hm? I thought the watch was my surprise." "Well, the watch was the first surprise," you said, continuing to trace patterns on his chest with your fingers. "But I have another one in mind for now." You leaned in closer, bringing your lips to his ear and whispering softly.

A shiver ran down Nico's spine as he felt your breath against his skin. "What kind of surprise?" he asked, his voice low and laced with anticipation. You pulled back slightly, a sly smile playing on your lips. "A very special kind of surprise," you murmured, your hand moving further down his chest, gently caressing the firm muscles underneath. Nico's breath hitched at the touch, his body already beginning to react to your touch. "You know you're driving me crazy, right?" he muttered, his voice rough with desire. "That's the idea," you teased, your hand still wandering over his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You leaned in to press a series of kisses along his jawline, nipping at his skin softly. Nico groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations your touch awakened in him. His hands came up to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, a silent plea for more. You straddled his hips, grinding down against him as you continued to kiss and bite at his neck. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, igniting a fire in his veins. "God, you're driving me insane," he breathed, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he lifted his hips to meet yours. The feel of your body grinding against his was driving him wild, and he could feel himself losing control. "That's the idea, birthday boy," you purred, moving your lips back to his ear. "Lose control for me. I like you like that." You nipped at the sensitive skin of his earlobe, eliciting a low moan from deep in his chest. Nico's mind was foggy with desire, his body responding to your every touch like a puppet on a string. Your words sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin, and he could feel himself hardening against you. "You're killing me," he groaned, his hands roaming over your body, desperate to touch as much of you as possible. "But what a way to go, right?" you said, grinning as you felt the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. You moved down to his neck again, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving behind a trail of love bites.

Nico's breathing became ragged, his body arching up off the bed as you continued to kiss, bite, and mark him. "I can't take much more," he gasped, his hands roaming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you purred, pulling back to look at him. Your eyes were dark with desire, and you were clearly enjoying the power you held over him in this moment. Nico swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "Don't tease me," he pleaded, his voice rough and strangled. "Please, I need you, I need you now…" Your eyes glinted as you looked down at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. "Oh, I see," you said, feigning innocence. "And what exactly do you need, hmm? Use your words, birthday boy." Nico groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "You know exactly what I need," he said, his voice strained with desire. "You know what you're doing to me, and you're loving every second of it." "Maybe I am," you admitted, grinning as you watched him struggle to control himself. "But I like hearing you say it. I like watching you come undone at my touch." Nico's eyes locked with yours, his expression pleading. "You're going to be the death of me," he muttered. "But fine, I'll give you what you want. I need you, baby. I need you so badly it hurts. Now, please, no more teasing." You chuckled softly, your eyes softening at his admissions. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" you said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. "And since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can give you what you want…" You shifted, positioning yourself over him, your breath mingling with his as you spoke against his lips. "Anything to make your birthday extra special," you murmured, leaning down to capture his mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. Nico's hands came up to frame your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he returned the kiss desperately. His body was taut with anticipation, every nerve ending alive with electricity as he waited for you to make your next move.

You pulled back just enough to nip at his lower lip, before moving downwards to his neck, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest. Your hands roamed over his body, fingers dancing over his sensitive spots, causing him to shiver and buck beneath you. Nico's breath was coming in ragged gasps as you continued your ministrations, his body arching up off the bed to meet your touch. "God, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. "Please, baby, don't make me wait any longer…" You leaned down to press a kiss to his hip bone, grinning at the way he shuddered beneath you. "Patience, birthday boy," you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. "I'm just getting started." Nico let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillows. He was coming undone beneath your touch, his control slipping away with every kiss, every bite, every caress. "I can't take much more," he pleaded, his voice hoarse with need. You reached down to guide him inside you, taking your time to savor the sensation of being filled by him. "Mmm, you're so big and hard for me already…" you begin to lower yourself down, inch by delicious inch, until you're fully seated on his lap. Starting to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. "Like this, Nico? Is this what you wanted, baby?" Leaning forward to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, moaning softly into his mouth as you kept up with the slow, passionate pace. Nico groaned, his hands roaming over your body as you moved above him, enveloping him in a wave of sensation. "God, yes," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "You feel so good. So perfect." He captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he eagerly returned the kiss. His hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements as you continued to rock against him, each shift of your hips sending waves of pleasure through his body. "Baby, you're so good," he breathed, his head falling back against the pillows.

You smiled at the compliment, your hands sliding up his chest to toy with his hair as you continued to move above him, the intensity of the sensations building between you both. "I could do this all night," you purred, nipping at his neck as you picked up the pace. Nico groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as the pace quickened. "Don't tempt me," he said, his voice gruff with need. "I won't last long if you keep doing that." You chuckled softly, biting down on his earlobe as you continued to move against him. "Oh, I think you can handle a little more," you whispered, increasing the pace even further. "You're going to drive me insane," he gasped, his hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But he didn't care, his mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure your movements were bringing him. "That's the idea," you repeated, grinning as you continued to grind down against him. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the sensations threatening to overtake you at any moment. Nico's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to hold on. "Baby, I'm so close," he gasped, his eyes clenched shut as he struggled to control himself. You reached down to capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Let go, birthday boy," you whispered against his lips. "I've got you." That was all it took to push him over the edge. With a guttural moan, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body tensing up as he let go completely. "Baby, I'm coming," he gasped, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You watched with satisfaction as he came apart beneath you, the pleasure you had taken from him now mirrored in your own body. You slowed your movements, bringing him down from the high, your own breathing still coming in quick, shallow gasps. You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, your fingers gently brushing away the strands of hair that had stuck to his sweat-slicked skin. "You okay there, birthday boy?" you teased, a soft smile playing on your lips.

Nico chuckled weakly, his eyes fluttering open as he tried to catch his breath. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay again," he said, his voice rough with exertion. "You just blew my mind." You smiled, feeling a sense of triumph at his words. "Well, that was the idea," you said, gently untangling yourself from his embrace and crawling up to lie beside him. "But I hope I didn't overdo it." "No, no, it was perfect," he said, rolling onto his side to face you. "You're always perfect." He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his fingers as they traced a path down your cheek. "You're pretty perfect yourself, you know," you said, smiling softly. "Happy birthday, Nico." He smiled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, baby. For everything. For the watch, and for this." He gestured to the rumpled sheets and the aftermath of their passion. "Well, you deserve the best," you said, snuggling up against him and resting your head on his chest. "So I had to make sure your birthday was extra special this year." "Well, you definitely succeeded," he said, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer. "I don't think I've ever had a better birthday." He was silent for a moment, his fingers gently tracing along your spine. "Although, there is one thing that could make this night even better," he said, his voice low. "Oh yeah?" you asked, curiosity piqued. "And what's that?" He shifted, rolling over to pin you beneath him, his hands on either side of your head. A sly grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can think of a few more ways to celebrate..." You gasped as he pinned you down, a shiver of anticipation running through you. "You're insatiable," you said, a playful smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not complaining." "I can't help it," he said, leaning down to trail kisses along your neck. "You just bring out the animal in me, baby." He began to move against you, his body already responding to your proximity. "And I'm not done with you yet…"

[predestinatos]

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

[tvhsleb3ww]

BLACKOUT! - OIKAWA TOORU

summary, both you and tooru woke up in the middle of the night due to a blackout

"GYAH!"

he squealed when he heard the sound of something falling on the floor. you clutched onto the back of his white t shirt. your heart rate increased as both of you and your husband walked further into the dark living room.

"walk faster, tooru!"

you groaned and smacked the back of his shoulder, making him grunt out an 'ow!' he pouts at you but you can't really see it due to how dark the apartment is at the moment.

"i'm trying! i can't see anything!"

he huffs out, stupid him he forgot his phone back in the bedroom. it was probably charging before this stupid black out happened. even if he did had his phone, it wouldn't be much help since the battery is dead.

a little while before...

when he moved to argentina for life, he knew he had to face a lot of things. mostly heat. though, he doesn't really mind a little bit of heat and sun exposure. he likes it, in fact. he likes how he looks hotter with tanned skin (self proclaimed).

but he didn't expect it to be this hot.

before he drifted to slumberland, his arms were wrapped around you, with your head on his chest. the proximity between you two was insane, but you both love it. he could've sworn he turned the AC on.

guess he was wrong when he woke up at exactly 3:45 AM with sweat forming on his forehead and all over his body at an insane amount. he furrows his eyebrows at the sudden heat, especially at night time. he fans himself with his white shirt that he practically wants to pry off right now.

he looks over to you to see you squirming in your sleep, changing sides every now and then. he could see that you were uncomfortable as well.

then, he figured that it was a blackout. he had that idea when he looked up to see the fan wasn't moving an inch as it should be. the AC had been turned off and the hallway lights that both of you usually leave on at night, is turned off.

he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. what a terrible time to be having a blackout.

soon, you woke up as well and sat up next to him. a yawn escapes your lips, as you bring a hand to rub your eye. he smiles at you. even in the dark, he manages to see your beautiful figure.

"morning, beautiful"

he said in a light tone, obviously teasing you. you hummed, your hair is a little messy.

"hm, why is it so hot?"

you asked and faced him. you can barely make out his face due to how dark it is. the only source of light you have is from the moonlight that shone through your balcony. though it was minimal.

"because of me possibly"

he jokes, to lighten up the mood. you rolled your eyes and smacked his bicep, making him chuckle.

"i'm being serious here, tooru"

he huffs and feigns offense.

"fine, i'm pretty sure it's a blackout. the power is out"

you hummed to his statement, fanning yourself with your hand.

"can't really sleep now with the temperature. what do we do?"

you asked to which he smirked.

"we could make out-"

"absolutely not"

you scoffed and he pouts, though it wasn't a bad idea, you don't think him bruising your lips with his own is appropriate to do in these moments.

"ugh, it's so hot. i wanna rip off my clothes right now"

"doesn't seem like a bad idea, you should try"

you don't need light to see that stupid flirty smirk and wink of his. you rolled your eyes at him.

"we're in a crisis and all you can think about is getting laid?"

he yawns as he nodded his head and leans against the bedframe.

"well, you're to blame for my thoughts"

you shook your head and before you can say anything to him, the sound of glass hitting the floor echoed throughout the apartment, making both your eyes widen.

he swears his heart rate increased and beated in an insane pace. his face starts to lose a little colour. oh god, he hates these kind of scary things.

the second that sound broke out, he clutches onto you for dear life. his arms wrapped tightly around your body as your cheeks squished against his chest.

"mmf- tooru! it's hot!"

"i can't let go! i'm scared!"

he squeaks and you huffed.

"it's probably nothing, calm down"

"oh yeah? i don't think 'nothing' can push off something until it breaks, darling"

you glared at him. seriously, it was amusing to see this buff and confident man getting all scared at what may possibly be something scary.

you were a little scared too, you weren't gonna lie.

"we should check it out"

"WHAT? are you insane!?"

you nodded to which he just whined at you. you pry off his hands off your body to get up from the bed, quickly searching for your phone.

"wait! you're not being serious, are you?"

he pouts when he sees you stood up next to the bed. you sighed when you couldn't find your phone.

"i am! i have to see what broke"

"and leave me here? alone!?"

he squeals when you scoffed at him and walk towards the door. he yelped and quickly escaped the bed to join you, his hand clutched on your arm.

"(y/n), baby, honey, as much as i love how crazy you can get and how hot you are when you do so, i don't think this is the right idea"

you huffed and grabbed his hand with your own.

"cmon, we'll go together, okay?"

"i'm too young to die! i wanna experience having kids, sending them off to college and beating that asshole ushiwaka-"

he rambles, as if he was going to die. you sighed. even at a time like this, he can be as dramatic as can be.

"it's nothing, i'm sure of that. i just need to see what broke and we'll get back in bed"

he pouts and gives up on changing your mind. as much as he wants nothing to do with this, he can't leave you alone. hell, he doesn't wanna be left alone.

which got you two in this position in the first place.

you clutched the back of his shirt, as both of you walked further into the living room.

"OW! i stepped on something sharp!"

he whined as he takes a step back to see the broken pieces. you sighed when you see the pieces of your favourite vase that your mother gifted.

"aww, i really love this one"

he hums and pats your back.

"at least we know what broke now. so, let's go back to bed, shall we?"

he says before grabbing your arm and leading you to the bedroom. before you could protest, a certain sound made you both freeze.

both of you let out a scream when something fuzzy ran through your legs. one of the screams being at the higher pitch, obviously tooru's.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"

he yelped and hugged you tight.

"i don't know!"

then a small 'meow' echoed.

and right then, the hallway lights turned on and so did the fan and the AC. a small cat made it's way to your leg, purring as it rubs its head against your calf.

he blanked out as he sees you patting the cat. how did that get here?

"aw, turns out it was this guy"

"what the- how did it get here?"

he pouted when he sees you paid attention to the purring feline. he clears his throat loudly, to get your attention.

"probably went inside when i was closing the door and hid off somewhere. it's so cute though"

he scoffs.

"yeah well, i'm cuter anyways. cmon! let's get back to bed!"

he whined and tugs on your nightdress. you rolled your eyes at him before taking the cat outside.

"you owe me consoling kisses by the way for making me go through such a horrendous experience"

you snickered before pressing a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile.

"okay, you big baby"

[irisintheafterglow]

can i put in my two cents on girldad!bakugo whose daughter got mom's quirk

cw: prohero!bkg, swearing, fem!reader, fluff and crack with a small side of angst

"yer mom's gonna fuckin' kill me if we don't get this out," he mumbles, furiously scrubbing at the splotches of rainbow paint covering his three-year-old daughter's previously white dress.

"fuckin!" his daughter echoes and he flinches.

"no, no, no. we can't say that," he says softly, kneeling down on the tile of the laundry room where she was watching him work. "mama's gonna kick my ass if she hears you swear, so we can't say that word...yet. m'kay sweetheart?"

"kick ass!" she laughs innocently, giggling as his face contorts into a mix of horror, shock, and joy. "dada, you funny," she babbles, reaching up to grab at his face. he fights the instinct to pull away, afraid of how she'd react if she looked too closely at the scars covering his face. you'd talked him through it numerous times before, but he was still scared she would be scared of all the battles etched into his skin. it was his own anxiety talking, he knew, and she must have received her empathy from you because she reached up toward her dad anyway. her little eyebrows pinch and her stubby fingers brush over the rough, discolored tissue. "dada ouchie?"

"dada ouchie long time ago, bubs," he murmurs, taking her hand and kissing her tiny nails. "but mama saved dada. and now," he lifts her from the floor and positions her comfortably on his hip, her head leaning against his shoulder, "baby needs to help save dada from mama."

"mama angry?" his daughter frowns and he nods, staring frustratedly at the pastel stains on the white fabric. "what dada do?"

"oi! it's not always my fault," he protests, leaning closer as his daughter tries to tug his hair. "though, i do admit, this is my shit to clean up."

"shit!" she repeats brightly, grinning up at him as he fondly rolls his eyes.

"i think you're doing this on purpose, you gremlin," he grunts and she smiles up at him mischievously.

"gremlin!" it's the same smirk he does, the only difference being her eyes match yours instead of his.

"you got yer dada's dirty mouth. mama's not gonna be happy, but i," he pecks a kiss on her forehead, "am ecstatic." his daughter's eyes temporarily flash emerald green and she points to the front door.

"zuzu," she informs him. he groans and bites back another curse, throwing the stained dress into a basket and hoping for the best.

"that dumbass isn't supposed to be here until six," bakugo grumbles. he adjusts his daughter and moves into the living room in time to catch a car pulling up at the curb of the house.

"dumbass!" he doesn't have time to scold her because, unfortunately, her quirk isn't done yet. while he hurries to kick any toys under the couch and wipe the faded paint off his hands, her eyes flash pink, red, and yellow a split second before a knock at the front door.

"mimi! eiji!" his daughter squeals in excitement. he sets her down so she can rush to the door, opening it to reveal a half-dozen pro heroes squished onto the front porch. she jumps straight into kirishima's open arms, a string of drool dripping from her wide smile.

"you're early," bakugo deadpans while his high school friends toe off their shoes. "wasn't expecting her to alert for another half hour." his daughter transfers from kirishima to mina, who throws her up into the air like a beach ball. "oi, watch it with her, pinky. don't be giving her a concussion."

"lighten up, bakugo," mina replies without missing a beat, tossing the squealing child again. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

"did her flight get delayed or something?" denki asks, taking the baby from mina and flying her around the room while making racecar noises. bakugo watches his daughter like a hawk, never more than five feet away from her. he won't admit that he trusts his friends, but he also knows he could never be too careful.

"nah," he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "i jus' fucked up, is all."

"how so?" bakugo mindlessly unpacks the various packages of chips and soda, organizing them on the kitchen counter and punching a stray balloon out of his way.

"accidentally sent her to school with the wrong dress on," he grimaces. "thought it was a different white one, but it was supposed to be the one for today." he disappears momentarily into the laundry room, re-entering with the stained white dress in his hand. "she was screamin' and cryin' about not having anything to wear for her school's paint-a-thon thing, so i just put this on her without checkin..."

"yeesh, she really did a number on this, didn't she?" kirishima says, examining the various spots of pink, blue, and green. "her mom say anything about what she was supposed to wear?"

"i didn't wanna bother her," he mumbles in shame. "you know how important this gig was for her." his friends nod, wracking their brains for how to improve the situation. it was mina's idea, originally, to host a welcome home party after you'd been overseas for a reconnaissance mission, which was why they'd all congregated at your house.

"if it means anything, i think it looks even better," she assures him with a pat on his shoulder. "the colors are nice."

"thanks, pinky. i'm just not good at this shit."

"what, being a dad? like it's hard?" kirishima clicks his tongue, lightly slapping denki on the back of his head.

"dad of a girl," bakugo corrects with a scowl, "you got sons, pikachu. don't even try me."

"i think what he means," kirishima gently interrupts after shooting denki a look, "is that you should be a little easier on yourself."

"she's just got her mom's quirk, y'know? i don't want her to grow up with a shitty dad that doesn't know how to help her develop her quirk." though your daughter could only track up to six people and locate them when they're within 100 feet, your ability to track up to 65 people and locate them on a country-wide scale made you highly desirable to agencies around the globe. with you gone, it was up to bakugo to take care of his daughter and keep the house in order, but he found himself struggling to know what decisions were the right ones.

"you're learning, bakubro, and so is she." denki gestures to your daughter sitting on the living room floor, concentrating on stacking wooden ice cream pieces. "she doesn't know what a 'bad dad' is. she just knows you, and i don't think you're a terrible dad at all." bakugo nods in lieu of answering, his cheeks heating as the rest of his friends echo their agreement.

"if this little ball of spunk is any indication of how much of you she's got in her," mina says with a fond smile, "then she's gonna be just fine." any further thoughts are halted by the front door swinging open again.

"i got the cake! we gotta put it in the fridge, though, since it might've been smushed during travel," deku announces, handing off a stack of gift boxes and catering platters to denki. "now where's my favorite girl?"

"zuzu!" on cue, she comes waddling around the corner of the couch and helps herself to her favorite uncle's shoulders, finding two fistfuls of green hair as handles.

"you better not drop my fuckin' daughter, izuku," bakugo warns. "i'll blast your ass to mercury."

"do you always swear this much with her around?"

"fuckin!"

"that's exactly what i don't think should happen," kirishima states, unsurprised. "have you been teaching her that stuff?"

"she's a smart girl. picks up on things quick, like her mama," he dodges. "speaking of, you got eyes on mama yet, baby?"

"no mama, dada," she replies. "mama home soon?"

"yeah, mama home soon, so we gotta get you ready." he's about to take his daughter off deku's shoulders when he hears mina gasp. he'd known her long enough to know that sound meant she had an idea, and those ideas weren't necessarily good ones. "you got somethin' to say, pinky?"

"let me get her ready, and i'll fix your little dress problem for you," she says cryptically. bakugo doesn't have much time to protest as his daughter is already stretching from his arms to mina's, giggling while they disappear down the hallway.

---

forty-five minutes and a handful of inflated balloons later, his daughter's eyes flash neon orange, the same color your eyes flash for him. she doesn't know any other color to assign me, you theorized one night as you laid together in comfortable darkness. i guess she just associates me with you.

"welcome home!" denki excitedly opens the confetti shooter while kirishima bombards you with a sizable flower bouquet. you're standing speechless in the doorway and he watches your eyeline; it scans the room and its many shimmering balloons, paper streamers, and hero friends until it lands on him and your daughter, holding tightly to his pinky by the kitchen table. when the glitter settles, he gives her a nod, an okay to let her run to you.

"hi, my darling!" you beam, picking her up to hold her close and meet your husband's eyes over her shoulder. "and hello, my love," you murmur as his hands find your waist, pulling you close and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"missed you," he hums, his breathing finally returning to a steady rhythm for the first time in weeks. "she's been a handful."

"i'm sure she has." katsuki's expression is soft, only reserved for you and the child in your arms.

"how was the job?"

"a lot," you admit, allowing yourself to decompress now that you're home. "i can't tell if my head hurts from my quirk or the ten-hour flight," you smile tiredly.

"you got enough in the tank to entertain our friends? or do you need me to kick 'em out?"

"if it's these guys," you say, looking at the rowdy group of guests passing around plates and flatware, "of course i can."

"i guess we got more incoming," katsuki observes as another carload full of his friends arrive. "can we get you some food? baby and i will handle being welcome committee."

"well, do you, uh," you chuckle, finally acknowledging the pink-splattered elephant between you two. "do you wanna tell me why your shirt looks like you hugged a rainbow? and why her dress' stains look older?"

"oh, right. this." he looks down at his previously white button-down, now colored various shades of orange, blue, yellow, and pink to match his daughter's dress. you raise your eyebrows knowingly, already amused even before he answers.

"yeah," you smirk. "that." he shrugs, snaking a hand behind your back and leading you to the platters of dinner on the counter.

"it was paint-a-thon day."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[kisses-for-you]

jealous - g. weasley

george weasley x fem!reader

summary: when george sees you together with cedric, he quickly starts to feel jealous. w/c: 1.8k

The library was fairly quiet, which was nothing out of the ordinary. You always loved the library for this reason; it was a great place to just sit down and focus. You were sat across from Cedric, looking at the Charms textbook in front of the two of you. Nonverbal spells were something you had recently been introduced to as sixth year students and they certainly were not easy. However, Cedric had been a surprisingly good partner - calm, patient, and able to lighten the mood when you needed it.

"Okay, try this one," he said, his voice light as he leaned forward, pointing at a spell in the textbook. His eyes sparked with amusement and you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

With a sharp breath, you thought of a spell in your mind, your wand flicking in the air, but yet, nothing happened. A frustrated sigh escaped you, and Cedric let out a laugh that filled the silence of the library.

"Honestly, I think it works better when you don't try so hard," Cedric teased, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. "You're tense. Relax, like this." He demonstrated a subtle flick of his wrist, his expression serious for a moment, then the faintest shimmer of light twinkled from his wand's tip. "See?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "You're just showing off, Ced."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. "And you're just jealous," he teased. You responded with a playful eye roll as he poked fun at you, both of you laughing as your conversation started to flow in a different direction.

It was then that George walked in, his familiar presence filling the space before you even saw him. His footsteps slowed when he saw you and Cedric, both of you too caught up in your little world to notice his arrival at first. He stood there for a moment, watching as you both chuckled at something Cedric had just said.

George's usual smirk was nowhere to be found. His gaze shifted between you and Cedric, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that he couldn't quite ignore. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby bookshelf, trying his best to keep his tone casual. "Well, you two definitely look cozy," George said, his voice more clipped than usual.

You glanced up, surprised at his sudden interruption. You tried to ignore what he said as you didn't want to cause a scene in front of Cedric and anyone else in the library. A small wave of guilt hit you, but you brushed it off, offering him a warm smile. "Babe! What's up?" you asked.

George's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite place, but his voice was calm, almost too calm. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were ready to head out," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you, though it kept darting back to Cedric. The way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know - he wasn't happy.

You stood up, pushing your chair back with a small scrape of wood against the floor. "Yeah, I'll be done in a minute," you said, glancing at Cedric. "Thanks for helping me with the spell work," you added, offering him a smile, but George's stiff posture didn't escape your attention.

Without another word, George turned and started walking toward the door, his steps heavier than usual, the sharp click of his shoes echoing in the otherwise quiet library. A twinge of guilt pinched at you as you watched him, his back now to you, and you felt your stomach twist.

"George!" you called after him, voice a little too loud for the library. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn around.

You glanced back at Cedric, who seemed to be trying his best to look neutral, but you could see the understanding in his eyes. He gave you a small nod, telling you to go ahead and deal with whatever was going on with George. So you quickly grabbed your things, tossing your books into your bag and hurrying after George. He was already halfway down the corridor when you caught up, walking briskly with his head down, clearly trying to make a point.

"George, wait," you said, catching up to him and placing a hand on his arm. He stopped, but only briefly, his muscles tense under your touch. His eyes flickered over to you, and for a split second, you could see the storm brewing in them.

"Are you really gonna do this now?" he asked, his voice laced with a biting edge.

"Do what?" you asked, your heart pounding. "George, What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

He turned to face you fully, his expression tight with something you couldn't quite read. "I don't know, maybe I'm just tired of seeing you always acting so lovey dovey with Cedric. That's all," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "What? George, it's nothing like that. We're just studying," you said, trying to reassure him, but the way his lips pressed together made you feel like he wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, sure, studying," he repeated, his voice low and heavy with jealousy. "Doesn't seem like just studying to me."

A wave of frustration hit you. "You're being ridiculous," you said, exasperated, but there was no anger in your voice, just concern. "We're friends, George. Why does it bother you so much?"

For a long moment, he didn't speak, and you couldn't quite tell if he was holding back or just trying to figure out what to say. When he finally met your eyes, it was with a look you hadn't really seen from him before - vulnerable, unsure, and maybe even a little hurt.

"Because," he began quietly, his voice softer now, "I don't like seeing you acting like that with someone else. I care about you so much more than you know."

Your heart skipped at his words, and the realization hit you like a wave. Before you could respond, George turned on his heel again, starting to walk away.

"George, wait!" you called once again, your voice more urgent this time, and you jogged after him. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm again, a little more firmly this time. "Stop walking away from me," you said, your voice wavering slightly but firm enough to make him pause.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "What do you want me to say, huh?" George snapped, though his voice cracked at the end. "That I'm jealous? Fine. I am. Happy now?"

The confession hung in the air between you, his words echoing in your mind. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, his vulnerability written all over his face. This wasn't the playful, confident George you were used to. This was someone raw, someone real, someone afraid.

"I- George..." You stumbled over your words, unsure of what to say. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Cedric and I; there's nothing going on. I promise."

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about Cedric. It's about me feeling like I don't even compare. Like I'm not enough for you."

Your heart ached at his words, and you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. He flinched slightly at the touch but didn't pull away. "You're wrong," you said softly, your voice trembling. "You are more than enough. You always have been."

His gaze searched yours, looking for the truth in your words. For a moment, he didn't say anything and you worried he still didn't believe you. But then, he sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as the tension began to ebb away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I just- seeing you with him, like that, it messed with my head."

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "It's okay. But you have to trust me, George. I love you, not Cedric. You're the only one I want to be with."

His eyes softened at your words, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," you said with a laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. "Now, can go get something to eat? I'm starving after today."

He chuckled, the sound lighter this time. "Yeah, okay. But only if I get to carry your bag."

You rolled your eyes but handed it over, watching as he slung it over his shoulder with a triumphant grin. The two of you walked side by side down the corridor, the earlier tension now almost nowhere to be seen.

Later that evening, as you sat with George in the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room, you couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be trying just a little harder than usual. His jokes were coming faster, his signature grin wider and brighter than ever. He was pulling out all the stops to make you laugh - and it was working.

"You know," you said between giggles as he mimicked one of Fred's particularly awful impressions, "we're going to wake the whole school at this rate."

George smirked, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. "If they wake up, it'll be worth it. Everyone can hear me cracking you up," he teased, nudging your knee with his. His playful expression softened as he added, "But really, I just like seeing you happy. That laugh of yours? It's mine to hear."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, and you reached over to take his hand in yours. "It is," you agreed softly, your fingers intertwining with his. "And for the record, no one can make me laugh like you can, George Weasley."

A smug grin spread across his face, and he puffed out his chest exaggeratedly. "Obviously," he said, with mock arrogance. "Cedric might be good at spells, but he's got nothing on my comedic genius."

You snorted, swatting at his arm playfully. "You're impossible," you said, but your voice was full of affection.

"Impossible to resist," he countered, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

As the fire crackled beside you, you nestled closer into his side. George's arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you felt the earlier tension melt away completely. There might be other people in your life, but at the end of the day, George was the one who truly knew how to make you feel at home.

H.P. masterlist

[grimespial]

"I still think you're beautiful."

i kiss the scars on his skin

Carl didn't want you to see him. If Daryl hadn't forced you to get rest after spending all night slaughtering any walkers you found then trying to stay up all night in case he woke up. It was one of the first things his dad told him, you were driving yourself insane waiting to see him.

But what would you think? His face was probably mangled, atleast that's what it felt like, being shot in the eye couldn't be pretty. He'd felt insecure before sure, but this was worse, he felt... broken. Carl knew there was no hiding forever, you would see his face eventually, you would see it and be disgusted and-

"Carl? You okay?" It was his dad, at some point Rick had walked in the room, and he never realised, too busy dreading what kind of face you would make.

"He's waiting you know? He knows you're awake, Daryl has to hold him back." Rick had good intentions, trying to clear the air, lighten the mood with the mention of his boyfriend, but it did the opposite. Carl choked out a sob, tears beginning to pool as he turned his head down, hair covering up the thing that caused all his self hatred.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Do you need Denise?"

Carl couldn't manage out a response, so he just shook his head. How do you tell your own dad you never want to see your boyfriend just so you don't have to witness how digusted he gets to your mangled face?

"Come on Carl, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong. You can tell me anything, you know this."

"I don't want to see him." It's a wonder Rick could even hear Carl the way his hands muffled his voice, but he caught on why immediately.

"You worried? He won't judge you, i think he'd fight anyone who tried to even look at you the wrong way." His dad layed a hand on his head, slightly ruffling his hair before a shout broke the short silence.

"Let go of me! Why can't I go see him if he's okay‽ I don't care if I need to hurt you to get there!" Of course it was you, any time he was injured you would make sure to check on him. Like always, your voice gave him butterflies but right now he felt sick, and the self-hatred burned again.

i still think you're beautiful

It wasn't long after that you burst through the doors, panting and slightly roughed up. Clearly you put up a big fight to get to Carl, all while he's thinking of ways to never show his face again.

"Carl! You're okay!" Though it sounded more like a question, trying to reassure yourself more than him or make a statement. Even with the sound of relief in your tone he couldn't bare to look up at you.

"I'll give you two some time alone, shout if you need anything."

"I'm sorry I couldn't get here earlier, I tried but they wouldn't let me, I hope you didn't think I was ignoring you.. I'm rambling now. Are.. are you okay Carl?"

Just the sound of how worried you were, how much you care for him broke him. He wanted to treasure this, it wouldn't last much longer and it stung. The last time he felt like this was when his mom was in labour. He couldn't even wipe his tears incase you saw his face.

And then you held him by his chin, lifting his head to meet your view before brushing the hair from over the wound.

"Don't look at me." No amount of hardening his voice could cover the choke and sadness, his face softening in your palms, his whole body was making him more pathetic when he was trying to hide it. It was useless though, he could never hide from you, every single one of his tics you knew. You cared so much it hurt.

"I still think you're beautiful." With one hand you rubbed your thumb across his cheek, making sure not to irritate the wound, and the other you wiped his tears.

"I'm not, don't lie, you're probably disgusted with me."

"I don't think anything about you could digust me, I'll let you know that every single hour if you need it. You're stuck with me now, even if you go down, I'll follow you."

and i dont ever wanna lose my best friend

Carl didn't hesitate to throw himself into your arms, almost tipping you over. You couldn't hold back a laugh at his reaction before leaving a chaste kiss on his lips with a small smile. It was only then that he realised he was exhausted like Denise told Rick he would be, the stress about your reaction apparently distracted him from it.

As he yawned, Carl pulled you back onto the bed, it was a tight squeeze but he didn't want to let you go, afraid that it would all be a dream and you'd be gone. That's how he fell asleep, practically on your lap squeezing you, before dragging you into a deep sleep with him, the comfort to strong to resist as your eyes shut.

That's how Rick found you, nobody had called him so everything should be fine, but it had been a while and as far as he could hear it was silent. Carl would have to forgive him later for coming in if they were still talking, but he needed to be sure everyone was okay. What he didnt expect was for Carl to be lying mostly on top of you, arms wrapped around eachother, the only sound being soft breathing and he smiled. Of course everything was okay.

[unknownati]

Hello! I hope you're doing well :3

Can I get something about Ekko (headcanons, short scenario... you choose the format) with a s/o with chronic migraines? I absolutely love how you write him!! And it would be very special for me, considering that this topic is not talked about enough.

Thank you so much for your contribution to the fandom! ily byee

vi. ekko x gn!reader w/chronic migraines (hcs)

a/n: twin. I GOTCHU 😭🤝 and tysm!

i'm sorry if this isn't up to your expectations, i tried to do extra research on it (i was on r/migraine and like 3 different medical sites for a WHILE.) to make sure i repped u the best i could! please lmk if there's any inaccuracies :(

from what i read, most people's experiences were pretty similar so i tried to keep it in that middle ground.

warnings/tags: fluffy fluffy fluff, lowercase intended, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, descriptions of pain, reader gets insecure at the end (w/ comfort!), just ekko taking care of u like the gentleman he is really, i need this man

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-ekko didn't quite know how to handle it when you first started getting close.

-you could tell he cared, constantly glancing over at you with worried eyes every time you rubbed your temples and took deep breaths. his hand would rest on your shoulder, and even though you brushed it off, he knew it sucked.

-you somehow managed to keep it pretty low-key until you two started dating.

-the first time he really got a glimpse into it was during a baaad week after you started dating.

-"doin' okay?" he'd murmur, kneeling down next to your duvet shielded figure. all you do is groan, sticking your hand out to find his, interlocking fingers with him.

"yeah, i guessed. brought you some meds, maybe it'll help make you feel a bit better."

he knew he was doing something right when you squeezed his hand and whispered "thank you."

it was the most grateful he's ever heard anyone sound for anything.

and even though those pain meds didn't do the best job in the world, it's the thought that counts!

-afterward, he started with peeking to see what meds you take, constantly keeping them restocked for you. he thinks you don't know he's the one sneaking them into your bag, your cabinet, on your nightstand, etc. you know. there's only one person in your life who you know would leave spray paint stains on the little bottles.

-he'd make sure to keep areas he knows you mainly hung around much dimmer. buys you blackout curtains and figures out how to make controlled light bulbs for you that can be dimmer or brighter as you needed.

-he carries a shocking amount of stuff on him. boom, canteen of water! boom, snacks! boom, painkillers! woah, what's that? ICE PACK! check behind your ears? holy shit it's a heating pad.

-one thing though; as much as he cares for you, he won't baby you. he knows just how capable you are of doing things...he will, however, give you major royal treatment. you will be getting that shoulder massage 🙏🏾

-during days where your migraines are less brutal, he just keeps an eye out for you. makes sure stay hydrated and well fed.

-he does your chores for you during those extended periods, tearing his gloves off to stick his hands into your pile of dishes and clean them up for you. when you shuffle downstairs later in the day to put a cup in there, you find a small little note in front of your now cleared sink.

'hope i could lighten your load (get it) ♡ - e'

-and it was such a stupid joke that almost didn't make sense but you'd be lying if you said you didn't smile wide as fuck when you read it.

-during the extended periods of your migraine attacks, when you're just in bed, he brings you literally anything and everything.

-when you wake up from a nap you can almost always find him cuddled close to you, drool pooling into your pillow.

-and he does not mind leaving where you are just for you to go get some peace and quiet.

-it hits you like a train when you're out with him and a few of his friends. the stinging, pulsing cluster of pain forming behind your eye made you groan. "fuck, baby 'm sorry my head is just...killing me."

"hey guys, we're gonna head out, okay?"

"what? no, you don't have to leave, i can just—"

he flashes you what is the most loving glare you've ever seen and just gets up, ushering you along with him. silence fills the walk back between the lanes, gravel and wrappers crunching beneath your boots.

"i'm sorry." you murmur, smoothing your fingers across the arch of your brow. the way he looks at you when the words leave your mouth made you think he was offended by them.

"why are you apologizing?"

"i just...don't want you to always have to stop enjoying yourself just for me."

"nah, don't say that. it doesn't bother me. plus, it means i get to go home and chill out with you more often, i'm fine with that."

"yeah, but what if i'm just too much? what if you get sick of...doing all this?"

he scoffs, pulling his glove off and stopping you from walking so he can raise your chin, looking at you with eyes so determined but so gentle. his thumb swipes between your brows, making you relax them. "you're never gonna be too much for me. and i won't. ever."

-and trust me.

-he doesn't.