#every single time you have ever had a fear of something blowing up in your face killing you instantly. well.

[gender-euphowrya]

the way my grandma tries to shove her irrational fears on me and then guilt-trips me when i don't indulge her

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

They unknowingly bring up an insecurity Seungmin|Pt1

Pt2 Pt3

Your heart was strung in your throat. Seungmin was always one to tease; and for the most part he was good about shying away from topics you were sensitive about so no problems had ever arisen. But as you read over his texts over and over again you felt your heart pinch in a way that was all to similar to what you had felt in your previous relationship.

"You talk too much, you know that?" Your ex had told you that numerous times, and eventually it led to a break up. And your constant yapping became something that made you insecure.

But when you first met Seungmin you felt like you were perfect the way you were. Chan had said you would balance Seungmin out quite well. And up until now you felt as if that were the case.

Now you wondered if maybe you did become to much.

Maybe the constant chatter had become annoying to the quiet boy you loved dearly.

And while you had been in love numerous times before, it hurt more to even think of losing Seungmin than all your previous heart breaks combined. And that was a lot considering you had always been the one to have your heart broken.

You couldn't tear yourself away from your phone screen - rereading those texts and overanalyizing the tone.

Maybe it was in a light hearted way? Or maybe it was the complete opposite and it was fully aggression?

You sat there trying to pick apart every single meaning, connotation, and tone the words he sent could have when your phone dimed again.

"I'm guessing your busy shopping since my phone has been quite for more than fifteen minutes. Haha, I think that's a first!"

You did everything in your power to try and bite back the knot in your throat from coming up and causing tears. So much so your eyes started to burn and you ended up shedding a few quietly.

The rest of the day you busied yourself with miniscule little tasks like dusting the fans and sweeping the welcome mat that you intended to take along with you when you moved in with Seungmin.

You tried to take your mind off of the texts. You figured Seungmin didn’t mean it in anyway malicious sort of way. In fact you knew he meant it as a lighthearted joke. In the time you had spent with him you had easily learned just how kind and loving of a person he was, and how much he cared for you.

You just couldn’t shake the hurt from those words - and more importantly the fear you had deep down that there was some truth to the words he had sent.

By the time Seungmin arrived at your apartment it was early evening. Every Wednesday you guys would cook together ever since you witnessed him and Felix blowing food up by accident on a live. Seungmin followed the normal routine of slipping off his shoes and into his house slippers and immediately changing into a cheap shirt he had bought when you first had started your endeavors since he was smart enough to realize he was a messy cook.

“Hey baby.” He said as he greeted you with a quick hug from behind and a chaste kiss to the cheek before he went to wash his hands.

You have a small noise of acknowledgement as Seungmin dried his hands off on a plaid towel and turned to you with happy anticipation.

“What are we cooking today?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.” You replied as you started to grab the necessary ingredients. Seungmin followed you around like a happy puppy and helped you a carry everything to the counter you reserved for preparation of ingredients.

“So how do we start?” Seungmin asked. By now he had noticed your face was a little droopy and your responses were short and if there was any conversation it was only in answer to his initiation.

“With the ground beef.” You said as you pulled out a big bowl to put the meat and seasonings in. Seungmin watched you from his peripheral as you poured in some panco bread crumbs and a bunch of other various aromatic seasonings while he opened up the meat packaging.

As he kneeled everything with his hands he tried asking you about your day.

“So did you end up ordering the mugs baby?”

“No, I didn’t.” Silence.

“Oh…maybe after dinner we can look on Etsy together? Or maybe find a website to customize them? It might seem like a lot but I think the guys would really appreciate your sentiment.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Silence.

Seungmin started to roll out oddly and unevenly shaped meatballs and continued to try and ask you questions as you guys worked, but your answers we short. Not rude. But literally short.

Not thouroghly explained like usual.

Even at dinner you were quiet and barely even touched your food.

“Do you not feel good baby?” Seungmin asked you as you played with a piece of garlic bread.

“I feel okay…maybe a little tired.” You said popping the piece into your mouth as if to show you were feeling fine.

Seungmin sighed and put his fork down.

“Did my text hurt your feelings?” He had been worrying about it all day when he had seen you had left him on read. It was an odd thing but nevertheless endearing when you would finish a conversation over text and send a meme to him just to acknowledge the end of the conversation, and to make sure he “didn’t find it hurtful” that you had left him on read. Even if he constantly assured you it was in no way shape or form a problem.

You hadn’t sent him a meme. And the more he thought about it he realized that his humor might not have translated through text.

“Im sorry if I hurt your feelings. It was a joke, Y/N. I would never purposefully want to hurt you. I love when you share about your day. I was a bit tied up so while you texting me might have been inconvienent at the moment doesnt mean I don’t appreciate you wanting me to know everything about what you are doing. I love that you want me to be a part of your life , even the tiny thing.”

“It’s okay babe.” You replied putting a smile on your face. “I know you didn’t mean it to hurt me. I’m just tired that’s all.” You let out a breath as you stood up and collected Seungmin’s plate. “Maybe we can just watch a movie instead of shopping? I just don’t feel like thinking very much right now in any capacity…” You let out quietly.

“Of course.” Seungmin responded, trailing you into the kitchen as you set the plates in the sink. “I love you.” He said quietly, his voice lilting up slightly. Were you actually okay?

“I love you too Minmin.” You place a a small kiss next to his eye and head towards the living room.

During the movie Seungmin kept stealing glances at you as you leaned on him but not into him. As you laughed but the curve of your mouth didn’t exactly reach your eyes. And how those same eyes were focused on the screen but your mind was obviously some place else.

Although you had said you were fine your silence gave him the answer you actually wanted to give. That Seungmin had struck a nerve more sensitive than he had known.

[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

[bunnys-writing]

Hi aether!!

Would it be okay to ask for a Lyney x reader whos insecure about their face because they think that lyney is WAYYYY prettier than them and is overall just insecure abt their looks ever since before they met? Thank you !!

"My Shining Star"

...in which you, a self conscious Fontainian, feel as though your lovely boyfriend is too lovely for someone like you, and he just can't have you thinking like that on his watch.

(a/n at the bottom!)

Lyney is a man easily described as charismatic and charming. He encapsulates what it means to be confident, and his every move is flawless by design. His show run with his siblings has been deemed dozens of times over the best show in the Court of Fontaine, and what's more, he has clear set goals, ambitions, bonds, and ideals.

And then there's you. You're quiet, more reserved than he appears to his crowd. In a world of dazzling gems, you feel like you're more akin to a jagged rock, and yet, he pursued you.

For months, really, you thought he was joking. A trick to lure you into his mind games, a ploy to make fun of you, but there was a quiet sincerity in his eyes that made you wonder if maybe it wasn't as fake as you believed.

And it wasn't. Months of courting you eventually had you lower your guard and take him up on his invitation. A date.

Well, the date went far better than either of you could've hoped, and it was shortly after that you became partners. He was your loyal, joyful boyfriend, and you were his favourite thing in the world.

For a while, it was great. You attended his shows, and he dedicated every single one to you and his family. He always made sure he knew where you were sitting in the crowd so he could blow you a kiss, even if the people near you swooned on your behalf to insist it was for them.

Was it for them?

That thought planted the seed.

It took days for Lyney to notice your withdrawals; the way you avoided his eyes, didn't linger on his kisses or cuddles. It was about as subtle as a house on fire, in his defense.

Then you stopped attending as many shows, stopped spending nights at his house, started looking in mirrors and numbers on scales and spots on your face, and by the end of two months of Lyney hoping for you to tell him, he decided he couldn't stand watching his partner tear themself apart like this.

"Knock knock," Came a singsong voice at your door. He didn't want to scare you, so he kept his tone jovial. "Hope you don't mind me letting myself in, my dear."

You looked at the magician in slight surprise, then at your mess of an appearance with embarrassment. "Lyney! I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were coming over, I would've tidied up a little more if I did..."

"Nonsense, dove! We've been dating for months now, you don't owe me a saving face." Lyney walked over to you, closing the door behind him and sitting on your bed next to you.

The second the door was closed, your boyfriend shed the persona he held. His eyes softened, his stature relaxed, and he lost the formalities. He brushed a hand to your cheek lovingly, and when you shifted to move your face away, he immediately retracted to his own disappointment.

"(Y/N)...I need to talk to you about something."

You felt fear and guilt crawl up your stomach to infect your lungs. Tangled in this dread, you said nothing. Lyney took it as an open invitation.

"You've been acting strange lately...You weigh yourself, you're less inclined to eat or to leave the house, you seem...you seem low."

Lyney didn't touch you. He put a hand next to yours as an offer and left it there. He could tell something was wrong, even in the darkness of the room. You looked so...sad. It ached for him to see you like this.

"Did someone say something to you? Do something?"

No. And that was the stupid part. This was entirely self afflicted. You drove yourself down this spiral.

"...no." You despised the way your voice sounded so gravelly. "I'm just...not feeling great."

"What happened, (Y/N)? Please, talk to me."

You unfurled yourself, your knees left your chest to splay onto the mattress, and your hands travelled to fridget in your lap. Lyney moved to face you a little bit more.

"It's just...I don't know. You're really pretty, and I see how people look at you, especially when you're with me. The people at your shows, at the markets...they know I don't deserve you, Lyn."

There was a long silence. Then, a cautious hand on yours.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

You looked at your boyfriend, who seemed to be saddened a great deal from your words, but still smiling stubbornly despite.

"...Anything."

"I'm quite self conscious myself."

Now you were sure he was lying. You watched him carefully for any hint of a lie, but you couldn't discern it. With widening eyes, you realised he was telling the truth.

"Wha-...How? You're so beautiful and charming, and your smile is so bright it warms anyone who sees it!"

"Funny, that's exactly what I think of you."

A deep red burns your cheeks as you realise you've been caught, and your boyfriend laughs, bringing you closer in his arms.

"I know how it feels to feel like you're lesser than the people you love. To feel like the world would continue without a change if you were to fade away. But you're my shining star, and I love you so much. All of you."

Lyney plants gentle kisses on your palm, to your wrist, then to your cheek, catching you off-guard and flustered. He gives a sort of half chuckle at your expression. You see love fill every bit of his eyes as he gazes at you.

"I love you so much, (Y/N). Don't ever think any less, 'kay?"

"Yeah...I love you too, Lyney."

Man oh man I apologise for how long this took! Writing for Lyney was super fun, so I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it.

A gentle reminder that you are never not enough, and you're perfect just the way you are no matter what anyone (including you yourself) has to say about it! ♡

Thanks for reading! 🫶

REQUESTS OPEN, check pinned for more info!

[stardust-poet]

Stars.

Pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

Warnings: slightly vivid gore descriptions, not proof read

A/n: wrote this at midnight, so... might be a little incoherent

Enjoy!

You and your friend percy sat next to each other, percy sitting with his legs crossed and you with your legs dangling off the side of the rooftop of cabin 3, watching the stars peacefully.

You were the one who invited him to do this at such a late hour. Percy didn't mind much, though. He was a little concerned about getting too cold and turning into a perseus-popsicle. And the harpys tearing the both of you to bits.

You had called percy on the demigod-safe phones Leo Valdez had made for Camp-Halfblood as well as Camp-Jupiter all the way in California.

Your voice was shaky, and your words were stuttered over and repeated. That was when percy knew something was wrong.

Percy had always been plagued with nightmares since he had been thrown into the demigod life. That's what he suspected happened to you tonight. You might've been plagued with the horrors of both wars or some of the quests you've been on with other campers who may or may not have made it back in one piece.

Either way, he was here for you.

Percy had a crush on you. It didn't affect whether or not he would've come. He would always come when you called.

His little crush started out small. Holding stares just a little longer, more aware of how warm hugs from you were, admiring your appearance.

But soon, it got deeper and more passionate. Noticing every little quirk you have, memorizing your 'system' whenever you perform a task, slowly falling in love with every part of you. Your eyes, your smile.

Gods, he loved that smile.

Percy hardly focused on the stars tonight. His entire focus was you and you alone. You were the only star he ever needed. Until his own brain reminded him that you might not have the same feelings, and as of now, you aren't in the greatest condition to confess to. He had planned to confess tonight.

The silence was deafening yet peaceful. You felt like everything was crashing down on top of you. You felt the weight of it all, but you weren't crushed. You couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Earlier in the night, you woke up from a nightmare.

Not the usual kind, where it was maybe a monster chasing after you and having to run for your life with the overwhelming fear that it might catch up to you.

This time, it was memories.

Memories of the wars, bloodied guts, and other bodily parts everywhere from countless people you knew and some you didn't, mangled bodies spread throughout the area, people who were barely alive and hoarsely crying for help.

It felt as if everything was a thousand times worse in the nightmare then it had been in the actual moment.

Was it like that because you were so desensitized to this stuff? That you had to re-experience it in a dream for it to kick in?

What if you can't change this? What if every single bad, traumatizing, gut-wrenching thing that happens to you is something you'll blow off in the future?

What if you go cold?

What if you go numb?

What if—

"Are...you okay?" Percys soft whisper broke through the silence. Breaking you out of your downward spiral.

You hadn't realized it, but hot tears were streaming down you face. You hated the fact percy had seen you like this ... unless he didn't.

It was dark enough, right? Maybe he couldn't see you falling apart from your own thoughts.

And, percys whisper was just quiet enough for you to ignore it. You could blow this off, right?

"The stars look lovely, don't you think?"

Wouldn't this be confirming the one thing you feared?

"...that doesn't answer my question." Percy whispered, looking to you with a frown.

When he heard you faintly sniffle only a few moments ago, he got a wave of panic and fear flooded through him.

Were you alright? Were you crying? What had really happened?

That was when he saw the tears and asked if you were alright, resisting the urge to hold you.

"I don't wanna lie to you, percy." You whispered, your voice cracking as tears threatened to stream out of your eyes.

You wiped away the few tears that spilled out, feeling colder and alone despite a human next to you.

Then, percy pulled you into a close hug.

It was warm. You nuzzled into his chest and sobbed quietly, not really caring if anyone would hear.

Percy smelled like the ocean breeze and the beach. His hug was comforting and not like anything else you've ever felt.

Percy held you closer when he saw your shoulders heaving in rhythm with your sobs, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

"It's okay, I'm here. It's okay, I promise you're safe. It's okay, you're safe. You're safe." He whispered sweet nothings that meant everything to you.

After your sobs had died down and been reduced to sniffles, percy asked:

"Do you...wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head against his chest.

"Okay. Okay, that's okay." He whispered, placing another kiss to the top of your head.

Maybe someday he'll get to confess, but surely not now.

Someday.

°•~《☆》~•°

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Kinda mad at myself for not making them kiss ngl :/

Based on a writing prompt from (I think) Bookingitonthedaily on Instagram

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Bagginshield-tober prompt Hands ❤️❤️❤️

Of course! Starting this off with a nice sweet treat. 😊

Being on the road for months now with the dwarves, Bilbo had come to learn that there were some major differences between them. What was considered polite behavior in company, for instance. It took Bilbo a long time to learn that coming into Bag End and treating it like it was their own home to raid and rearrange was a sign of trust and friendship. It had been jarring and rather touching to know they had come to their ‘burglar’s’ house in the spirit of camaraderie. 

Then there was the importance of hair. Hobbits considered a heavy tuft of curls on one’s feet to be the pinnacle of attraction and sophistication. For dwarves with their hair and beards, it was a little more involved. Braids and beads had different meanings, and they used them to display many different things. Their honor, their duties, even who they were courting. Bilbo was endlessly fascinated to learn about what his friends chose to display to the world. However, it was their physical differences that interested Bilbo the most.

Their big rounded ears. Their broad shoulders and thick torsos. Their height but small dainty feet hidden inside bulky booted monstrosities. However, it was their hands that had caught Bilbo’s attention the most. Or rather, it was the hands of one particular dwarf that Bilbo couldn’t take his eyes off.

Ever since their hug on the Carrock, Bilbo has been overly attuned to Thorin’s hands. He thought about how they nearly encompassed his back when he pulled Bilbo close. He thought about how rough and calloused they were when they grabbed Bilbo’s own to keep him from tripping. He thought about how his own hand had been swallowed completely in his grasp. And even now, watching Thorin redo his braids in the moonlight, he could only focus on how gently they moved. How dexterous they were to make such tight braids with those thick digits. Bilbo felt a shiver travel down his spine.

What he wouldn’t give to have those hands in his own hair. Tracing their way down his ears. Following a path down his front. Complete encasing his…

“Master Baggins? What are you still doing up?”

Bilbo quickly shook himself of such thoughts, resisting the urge to blush like a tween thinking about their crush.

“Nothing! I…couldn’t sleep.” 

Thorin pinned him under his searching gaze. His eyes were so intense and beautiful, it was able to distract Bilbo from thoughts of his hands for the moment. Finally, Thorin curled his head to the side before getting up to walk outside. Bilbo hesitated for only a moment before getting up to follow him.

Thorin sat on the porch, attempting to light his pipe when Bilbo found him. He carefully sat down next to him, leaving a little bit of space between them. Thorin finally got it lit, taking a big inhale before blowing a smoke ring out into the night air. He handed the pipe over to Bilbo almost in challenge, and Bilbo quickly accepted. It was after Bilbo blew his own smoke ring that Thorin asked what troubled him. Bilbo was half tempted to say ‘you’ but pivoted and said something about Azog and the orcs currently on their trail. Thorin hummed along in agreement before he wrapped his warm, dry hand around Bilbo’s own. He could feel a fierce flush overtake him, and when Thorin gave it a small squeeze, Bilbo could swear his heart squeezed along with his hand.

“Your fear is well-founded. I too share the same worries. However, I find comfort in the faith I have in my company. Every single member.”

Bilbo gave him a quick, fleeting smile as he set his other hand on top of their conjoined ones. He traced his way over Thorin’s hairy fingers and knobby knuckles, utterly mesmerized.

“I think having a leader they can believe in gives the company courage.” He half-whispered. 

Thorin suddenly flipped his hand over, and Bilbo looked up making sure what he was doing was still okay. Thorin’s eyes were soft and his gaze imploring. Bilbo ducked his head under so powerful a look and began his new task of tracing all the lines along Thorin’s palm. 

“And I think having members so devoted to a cause not their own gives life to a dream the leader might never have thought possible.”

Bilbo paused in his movements as he slowly brought his gaze back up just as Thorin began to lean down. They met in the middle. A light chaste brush of dry and cracked lips against one another as Thorin’s hand gently traced its way down the side of Bilbo’s face leaving a wake of tingling sensations behind. 

Trick or Treat My Inbox

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

The Anomaly || JJK

Chapter 10: Flunctations pt.2

summary : In which you're isekai'd from your (own) parallel Jujutsu Kaisen universe to the canon universe.

wordcount : 2.2k

Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen X Reader, eventually Character x Reader (idk who yet tho)

Masterlist | Next

Your eyes widen. 

Fushiguro Toji.

It happens in slowmotion.

This is the first time you've ever truly seen him. You've heard stories. Stories of your mother who grew up with him. She described him as strong on a different level. You've heard stories from Gojo. Unbelievably strong. A true fear to be reckoned with. You've heard Yuki speak of him. Free from cursed energy. Much like the one other person you're fond of.

You've never seen him before. Yet you just know it's him. It's a feeling you've never had before, but there's no possibility for it to be anyone else. No one else would jump in like he just did. (Except perhaps your Sukuna, but this ain't about him.) 

He's fast, disappearing mid-air, only to be stood right beside Maki, tugging at Cloud Jumper. He wins, tugging the weapon from Maki's hands. He walks past casually, like he's simply here to finish some simple job. From the corner of your eye, you notice Zen'In's old man tense, recognition flashing through his eyes.

You're left confused. You knew that the Geto Suguru of this universe went down the same road as your universe's Geto Suguru. You had read it right off Gojo's face back when he asked who you were. Geto had ended up that way thanks to his battle with Toji, among other reasons. 

Had that not happened here? Wasn't Toji supposed to be dead? You did notice something odd though. Black eyes. You have no idea why or where or how.

Nonetheless, you watch in amazement with the rest as Toji approaches the curse casually, no sign of fear.

The curse has no idea who he is, writing him off as unimportant and sending a really long ugly eel from his stomach.

The display is a little disgusting, but whatever.

Toji was not scared, or impressed. You don't catch his smirk as he beats through the curse's attack. It creates an opening for him, and he's quick to close in on the distance between them, whacking Cloud Jumper across its face. He's watching the curse fly from his attack with a crazed smile. He follows soon after, running over the water as he mercilessly attacks the curse again and again, sending him flying in every direction. The curse doesn't stand a chance.

If your universe's Toji was anything like this one, then you understand how Gojo lost from him. The man is visibly crazy, his attacks merciless, skilled, and fast.

Eventually, the curse finally regains his footing, and he sends a hoard of piranha curses at Toji, aimed in a straight line. Of course, Toji doesn't falter, whacking through every last one of them with ease, closing in on him once again. The curse is smart, and pulls him under as he aims at his stumic once more. The two disappear from sight, only to reappear later. First, the curse. Then, Toji, who's wrapped up like a cocoon in eels, it seems. It only takes Toji a moment to break free from the eels. Two giant isopods break the surface a moment after he breaks free, but he beats one down with a single blow, the other one falling soon after. 

Their fall creates a big wave on both sides. One heading straight towards your group, the other sending Toji and the curse back to the island. 

You react quickly, taking control of the wave and allowing it to flow back gently. When the wave dissipates, all of you are able to see the curse receiving a life threatening beating once again.

And now, he's drawing blood, seriously injuring the curse.

" Old man. Who is that?" 

It's Maki who's asking the question.

" A ghost." 

" Fushiguro, can you hold out a little longer?" 

You glance back at Megumi, noting his state. Fuck, you forgot that he's still deploying his domain. It must be taking a shit amount of effort to keep that going.

You take a few steps to stand beside him, gathering the water of the curse's domain to form a stream, pressing your hand to the skin on the back of his neck. You can't fully heal him while he's using his cursed technique, especially while he's using his domain, but at least this way his physical state won't get worse. Megumi takes a deep breath before answering.

" Yes." 

A horrific sound brings your attention back to Toji. Metal scraping against metal. He's sharpening Cloud Jumper. Soon enough, both ends of the once dull weapon are sharp enough to pierce skin with minimal effort.

The curse seems to realize it too, and jumps up. You're not the only one who notices. Naobito  is up in the air soon enough, pushing it back to Toji. Toji is soon to stab it with Playful Cloud. And then he's ripping the three parts loose, back to mercilessly beating the curse.

Then you're all back in the metro station. Your eyes widen. 

He really just beat the special grade curse by himself.

" Megumi!" 

He's dropped to his knees, choking up a bit of blood.

" I'm fine. Heal me later-" 

he's breathing heavily. You're worried, but you nod.

Everyone's focus shifts to Toji.

Who's side is he on?

Toji is walking slowly, however, before anyone of you can speak, a window breaks.

He's forced Megumi outside.

Your eyes are wide, and Maki and you both call out for him at the same time.

" Megumi!" 

You've jumped out of the window before you've finished saying his name. Toji is a few steps in front of you. You can see his eyes wide from the few meters you're stood away from him.

A moment later, a fire breaks out behind you. 

Your eyes widen, glancing between Megumi and your other allies.

" Go!  I- I'll handle this!" 

Megumi looks uncertain. You're uncertain too. Another eruption of flames.

" Just- stay safe! If you die- Nobara, Yuuji and I will kill you!" 

You send him a worried glance, and then you're uncapping your water bottles, sending yourself back up, just as a third eruption of flames happens.

And then you feel something. Or hear something. You're not sure. It's like a heartbeat. But it's ominous, like a warning.

You arrive back in the metro station just to see a flash of the cursed spirit as it leaves, dashing away.

You wonder if it heard the heartbeat too.

However, you have no time to think about it. The scene in front of you ir horrific. Zen'In's old man is completely burned. Nanami seems to be half burned, probably having managed to protect himself at the very last second, half of his body gruesomely burned while the other half seems fine.

Your eyes widen as he gets up, eyes dully scanning the scene, lingering on Maki, who seems in an even worse state, as she didn't have the cursed energy to protect herself.

" Nanami!" 

" Heal Maki first." 

You stop, pausing as you look at him. 

" Nanami-" 

" She needs your help more than I do. You're strong, Y/N. I don't know what your universe is like, but I hope things are not going along the same lines as here. heal Maki, Y/N. And when this is over, we will speak again." 

He gives you a short, small smile, and then he's walking away. Blade in hand, half of his body in completely burned. You stare after him for a moment, before turning to Maki. She stirs. at least she's alive.

You rush over to her, uncapping one of your water skins. You immediately manipulate the water onto your hands, deciding to try something new as you manipulate the water to cover every inch of her body in a thin sheen, hoping it will help heal her sooner. Soon enough, your own hands press down on her gently, your reverse cursed technique doing it's job.

" Y/N..." 

"Maki! I'm so glad you're alive." 

You release a tense sigh.

Slowly but surely, Maki's body heals, though scars do remain.

" I'm sorry, I can't avoid the scars."

" It's okay. Thank you for healing me." 

You nod at her, getting up. Admittedly, it took a lot of water and effort to heal her. You're more skilled in reverse cursed energy than regular cursed energy, but even you can't deny that healing a whole body is demanding of you.

She joins you, her eyes studying her new scars.

And then you feel it again. That ominous presence. It's heavy, demanding, and unmistakingly evil. It's faint, so thankfully it's far away. But it's still there.

" Y/N?, What is it?" 

" A cursed presence, I think." 

Maki's eyes widen, following your line of sight. What could that be? 

" Do you think it could be Sukuna's?" 

You send her a questioning look.

" Sukuna doesn't have any cursed energ- Oh, this universe's Sukuna." 

It takes you a moment to realize.

Maki nods.

" Do you know what our universe Sukuna's like?"

" yeah, he's the king of curses right?  His technique was slicing I've been told. And for some reason he's in Yuuji's body?- That part always got me a bit confused." 

You move towards Naobito, intending to heal him, but Maki puts a hand on your shoulder.

" Don't heal him. He's not worth the effort, and you'll need the remaining resources of water you have." 

You give her an uncertain glance, glancing down at the man who's laid out on the floor like a fry. Usually, you'd heal as many people as you could, but you happen to have heard already how horrible he is.

" He's treated you like shit your whole life, right?" 

You don't turn to her as you ask the question. Maki raises a brow in surprise.

" Yes, why? " 

You sigh, nodding as you turn to face her.

" In my universe, we're friends. I consider you my friend here too. I don't heal people who harm my friends." 

You're smiling at her, and Maki smiles back at you.

" That's sweet. I think it's best if you go and find Yuuji. If Sukuna has truly manifested for whatever reason, we're in trouble. I'll go help out Megumi." 

You nod at her.

" Okay. Stay safe." 

The both of you turn the opposite direction after that. Maki jumps out of the broken window, while you walk deeper into the metro station. The first scene that greets you makes you gasp. 

Two unfamiliar girls. One completely headless, her head body in a bowing position, and the other girl's body splayed across the ground, part of her head severed. You have no idea who these two are, but you still feel sorry for them. You have no idea who or what killed them. Glancing around, you notice a huge poster. Whatever fought here must have shattered the glass that held it, the material now loose.

Originally, you'd like for them both to lay side by side, under the poster you just found as a sign of respect. However, you're too afraid to touch them. A stupid unsettling feeling you have around dead bodies. Instead, you rip the poster in two, laying one part on each of them, wishing them to rest in peace.

You continue on your way, searching the halls for Yuuji.

Most of the metro station is empty, save for the rubble that's laying around.

Eventually, finally, you come across someone.

He reeks of cursed energy, making you wonder if he's really old or just special.

You cock your head, uncapping your leftover water skin.

" Hi." 

He stills, now turning to look at you. His hands are holding his head, sweat covering his features. He's definitely distressed. Silently, you wonder about what. 

His features are unique. He has dark eyes, surrounded by deep purple circles, like he's never slept before. His hair is tied up in two small ponytails, and on his face is a mark you could've sworn you've seen somewhere before.

" Are you okay?" 

-

" Come any closer and I'll kill you!"

Sukuna grumbles in annoyance, turning around.

The sight is ominous, horrific. He's covered in blood. However, he has 2 eyes, is seemingly a bit taller and buffer than the Yuuji she knows.

" I'm done with useless fights. Two other sorcerers have already tried to kill me, and surprise, surprise, they failed." 

Nobara's eyes narrow.

" Did you kill them?" 

His voice is the same. It's slightly creepy. He sounds bothered, or perhaps annoyed. 

" No. I'm not a murderer." 

Nobara lowers her weapon, fixing him with a look.

" You're from Y/N's universe." 

Sukuna's eyes widen. Finally, he calms down.

" Universe? You mean that this is a different one? "

Was that what Inumaki senpai was trying to tell him?

Nobara nods.

" Boy, do you have a lot to catch up on. But first, how did you come here?" 

The Anomaly taglist:

@luxylucylou @kalulakunundrum @strxbxrrylover @aethersslave @jenniferrvsesi @hanatsuki-hime @betizda

[freyyzu]

i do not know if you are taking requests or not ,, so im sorry for requesting if you are not and just ignore this please 😭💗💗💗

but if you are,,is it possible to have the demon brothers finding a breath taking sculpture of them in mcs room made by their hands ( sculptors are just *chefs kiss* ) maybe the bros weren't sure about confessing but this was the final straw?

SCULPTURES

There's a sculpture sitting on your desk and it looks an awful lot like him.

a/n; sorry this took me ages anon, i have no excuse aksjdh though, i was unsatisfied with how i wrote this so i had to restart like four times...

Lucifer is taken aback

throughout all his years of living he’s seen many portraits and sculptures of the like that try to replicate his beauty. many failed, many succeeded, and he can say for certain as he looks at the one atop your desk right now, that you have succeeded.

maybe it’s the lovesick part of him talking, perhaps he was just in awe at how incredibly skilled you are at your hobby, but there’s no denying the fact that his heartbeat has sped up and that he was more entranced by your work of him than he ever has been with the delicately crafted portraits from the celestial realm.

lucifer had always been on the fence about his feelings. he had many responsibilities under his belt, and there were other factors at play — excuses, every single one of them. perhaps finding your sculpture was just the thing he needed as the final push to tell you how he feels already.

Mammon feels his brain stop working

as soon as he spots the sculpture of him just plainly in the middle of your desk he gets mildly annoyed. of course he knew you were working on something, but never did he think it was going to be him.

it’s pretty. he’s never been a person to really care for the fine arts but when it’s of him, and when it was carefully and so meticulously crafted by you of all people, he can’t help but admire it more. a part of him wonders why you didn’t just ask for him to be your model — it’s literally his job! and then it hits him.

he’s a mess for the next couple days every time he runs into you. his ears are red, and he stutters over the most basic of words until eventually he just lets it out that he had found your sculpture of him when he came to visit and it was making him embarrassed because he’s been in love with you for so long and now you just had to go and make it worse. don’t tell him you left it out on purpose, he’s sure to blow a fuse.

Leviathan near breaks it

it wasn’t on purpose! and he catches it just as it’s about to fall, so crisis avoided! but now there’s another problem, and that’s him. him - who is so red in the face he fears he might actually explode within the next few seconds.

levi’s love for figurines is practically unmatched, meaning when he found out about your skills he was over the moon in learning more about it, maybe commission something from you… but he certainly didn’t expect you to sculpt him of all people! he carefully places the stone back on the table exactly where he finds it and scampers out of your room faster than one could blink.

don’t come into his room for the next year, normie! he means it! because if you come in then he’s going to for sure say something he’ll regret if you don’t feel the same way. maybe… you should help him a little bit with that?

Satan is at a loss for words

there are a number of things that he could say right now to vocalize his amazement at your skill and how deeply touched he feels, but all the words that he wants to say seemingly die in his throat.

he can’t help but admire your work forlonger than necessary, the fear that you might come back and see that he had found your work be damned. in fact, he would prefer that you came back in at that moment so he could tell you straight away what amazing work you’ve done.

he grabs your hand the next time you have alone time together. a smile graces his lips, casually brining up just how you really outdid yourself this time with your new piece. the flush that paints your cheeks is enough to make him spill his feelings right then and there.

Asmodeus can’t help but swoon

the curl of his bangs, the length of his nails, the flutter of his lashes — somehow you’ve managed to capture it all in your sculpture. he can’t even imagine how much time and effort (not to mention skill) this must have taken you, and he wants nothing more than to tell you just how fantastic of a job you’ve done!

it was entirely accidental that he had seen the sculpture, but then again it was hard to miss when it was just smack in the middle of your desk. with his curiosity piqued, asmo gives it a glance and immediately gasps upon seeing a beautifully constructed pose of him carved out in stone.

he doesn’t hide the fact that he saw your ‘little’ project at all. the next time you’re in your room he barges in with glee to smother you with appreciation, his confession spilling out the middle of it all. would you like to get a live look at all the features you couldn’t craft by memory? he’ll let you see those and more if you’re up for it.

Beelzebub thought you got it commissioned

unlike the rest of the brothers, he doesn’t come into your room often without permission, and unless you mention that you have a hobby in sculpting it doesn’t cross his mind at all that you’re the person who crafted it. it’s only when he sees the tools neatly tucked away in a corner does it really settle in that you’re the artist.

art isn’t something that has a place in beel’s heart, but even he can admire how much time you’ve put into this. there were days where you hadn’t shown up on time for breakfast and other times where you completely skipped dinner. He was worried about whether or not you were getting enough energy, but at least now he knew the reason behind it all.

his confession is purely accidental. he finds you the next day to tell you he hopes that now that you’re done with your sculpture that you’ll stop skipping meals. he likes you too much to see you possibly faint because of him. oh, and of course he appreciates that you care for him so much you would even sculpt him! it was really well done.

Belphegor thinks his eyes are deceiving him

he comes by your room practically every other day for a nap when the attic just isn’t doing it anymore, so how had he never noticed that you were making something like this?

his finger traces the grooves of the structure, admiring how there were no nicks or rough areas, all while trying to wrap his head around that fact that it was really him. it takes him a bit to remember you could come back any time now, so he makes himself comfortable on your bed as he always does.

when you do come back to your room a while later he invites you to cuddle like he hadn’t just walked in to the surprise you were planning to give him. that doesn’t matter though, if you want to sculpt him more after this he’s all the more willing to let you as long as you tell him why you picked him of all people. he thinks the look that crosses your face is adorable.

[redbleedingrose]

Always Epilogue Part 2

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Word count: ~6.2K Warnings: minor spice, fluff, first time writing Masterlist, Epilogue Part 1 A/N: I want to start off by saying, I am so sorry this took so long to come out with. I am not super happy with it, but it is here and this is the end. As always, please please please like, reblog and comment. I love hearing your guys' thoughts. It always means so so much to me. I can't believe I made it this far. The fact I have written a series is mind blowing to me. I hope you guys at least like it <3 Love y'all so much!!!

6 Months 

Ever since your conversation months ago, Azriel had done everything in his power to spend time with you, to give you his undivided attention, to ensure that you knew he was sorry, that he took responsibility for his actions, that he would try to be better, that you were the only one he could ever want, the only one he would ever need. 

As the days went on, you spent more and more time with Azriel, and you noticed a change in him. There was a brightness in his laughter, he smiled more fully, more easily, and his general demeanor, his aura, the way he carried himself, had fully relaxed. It had become more open. His wings were often flared out, expanding into their full span and never compressed tightly against his back, like he had stopped using them to cause him discomfort. You had even noticed a change in his shadows behavior, once standing at attention in every setting, slithering across rooms to figure out who exactly was present, were now swirling freely around you both, tracing up your figure and tugging at your wrist, your waist, your hips, your thighs, anywhere they could wrap themselves around, pulling you closer to their master. While his shadows were still alert and oriented to their surroundings, intent on keeping you safe, they had become more subdued, almost less angry, less rabid. Even the people of Valeris were starting to notice the change in the shadowsinger. Before, they had been too fearful of the male to send a greeting his way, nodding in acknowledgement, then turning hastily away to avoid his dark gaze, his shadows a threatening presence surrounding him. Now, the people were readily, openly, waving at him, even comfortable enough to begin conversations with the male they once feared. 

And the changes in you had become… palpable. 

The constant presence of Az had left with the warmth of his presence, a constant contentedness. You woke up feeling fully rested, ready, excited even, to start a new day with your mate. The bags under your eyes had smoothed into your skin, and your smile lines grew deeper as the laughter you shared with Az became more frequent and fuller. Every moment you spent with him reminded you all over of why you had fallen for him initially. All the things you had shared with him over the years about your likes and dislikes, he had apparently stored into his mind, holding them close to his heart as he decided what he wanted to do with you, for you. He outdid himself every time. Every single time. Every time he took you somewhere, everytime he brought you tiny gifts, every time he whispered hushed murmurs into your hair as you cuddled, you felt loved. You felt cherished. You felt adored. 

Decades ago, you had mentioned your love for stargazing, even going as far as to change your sleep schedule to live nocturnally just so you could have the best view of the stars. It was a common thing in Velaris, something that a lot of the townspeople enjoyed. It worked for a couple months, until you were nearly passing out in the middle of training and then Az had forced you into his bed to sleep. He sat across from your splayed out body, legs stretched out with his back leaning against the oak bed frame reading his book, ignoring your protests as his shadows held your waist down to the bed. He didn’t even lift up his gaze from the story he was apparently engrossed in when he sternly replied, “sleep first, talk later.” Eventually the cool touch of his shadows and the warmth that radiated off the male had you slipping into a deep sleep. You had woken up six hours later to Az in the same position. He hadn’t moved besides turning the page to his book, watching over you as you slept. When his hazel eyes drifted toward your half lidded glare, he smirked and huffed out a laugh, “Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty.” The nickname had your heart fluttering, you ignored it as you cleared your throat and muttered back a hiss that had Az nearly rolling in laughter. 

You looked back at the memory with a certain fondness, hints of his love emulating through his acts of friendship. And it seems he hadn’t forgotten any of it. Not that night. Not the stargazing. The first date he had taken you on, he had woken you up in the middle of the night when the rest of the city was still asleep, grasping at your ankle and yanking you out from under your warm blankets. He burst out in laughter at your meek attempts to smack his chest, pulling you into his embrace and pressing a long kiss into your temple murmuring apologies before taking the blanket off your bed and wrapping it around you. He flew you to the house of wind where there was a wool blanket laid out on the roof, you gasped at the array of freshly cut fruit, croissants, biscuits, cheeses and bread resting atop it. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight, giving you an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars in the night sky. Azriel tucked you under his arm as you settled down next to him, wrapping his wing around you to keep you warm as he pointed up at the sky, listing each and every constellation that was visible to the naked eye, recounting the legends that came with them, legend of goddess’ fighting with the gods, stories of the earliest night court rulers and how they came to be. When you had finally gathered the courage to ask when he had taken the time to learn about all of these constellations, he casually shrugged, mumbling the fact that he had gone to the deepest parts of the library searching for these stories, searching for the different night skies and all the constellations they held, and had memorized each and every one of them. Where they were in the sky, and the stories associated with them. Just for you. Just to impress you. Just to show you how much he cared. 

The fact he had gone out of his way to learn about your interests, the fact he spent his free time for months memorizing small intricate details despite his busy life being spymaster, just for you. Gods, he had your heart palpitating just from that. 

The next week, he had taken you to the rainbow, insisting on buying you whatever you wanted without any limit. And when you had insisted you didn’t need anything new, that you had everything you wanted, he laced his marred fingers with yours, peppering kisses into the back of your hand before pulling you into different stores. He patiently browsed through the dresses, the makeup, the jewelry himself, picking out what he wanted to buy for you, imploring you to try out his choices and to pick some of your own. When you had finally given in, he had smiled so widely, so fully, your cheeks had flushed. The entire day he had spent, flattering you with compliments on how beautiful and elegant you looked, spoiling you with different clothes and shoes and whatever your heart desired, claiming all the while that you were the most entrancing female he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. 

A couple of days later, he had flown you out to the libraries in Day Court just to spend the entire afternoon picking out books for each other to read. When you found your picks, he led you to one of the gardens outside, sitting down next to you in a bench swing, pressing his entire side into yours, contently reading your pick for him. The book he had chosen for you had been a lovely, heartbreaking, remarkable tale of an antihero finding peace in his life with his wife and two twin girls. At some point during your reading, you had glanced up to find Az silently watching you. His tan cheeks flushed under your gaze, smiling sheepishly at you as he played with your fingers, embarrassed to have been caught admiring you in the sunlight. You gently chuckled, leaning up to press a soft kiss into his burning cheek before resting your head against his shoulder, falling back into the depths of your book, feeling perfectly content in his presence, feeling at peace in his presence, like there was nothing to worry about when he was around. And that is how Azriel made you feel. Safe. Content. At peace. Joyful. Full of life. 

This morning was no different. He had shown up before sunrise, pressing gentle kisses all over your face to wake you. He had already picked out your clothes, a lace blue top with waist high pants, setting them out before waiting on the balcony for you to get ready. As you walked out, his jaw nearly fell to the floor, hazel eyes sparkling as he admired you. “You are the most stunning female to have ever existed, my love,” his lips brushed against your ear, murmuring his tender worship before pulling you into his grasp, wrapping your legs around his waist and securing his arm around your hips as he pushed you both into the sky, carrying you to distant mountains in the horizon where you hiked up a long empty forested trail so you could watch the sunrise at the peak. The pink melting with gold and blue was one of the most stunning views you had ever seen, enhanced with the humming of your bond as Azriel’s arms found themselves locked around your waist, stroking at your belly. The silence you shared wasn’t an empty one. It was utter tranquility. When the sun had risen into the sky,  you turned to wrap your arms around Az’s waist, thanking him for giving you this experience. He only smiled, leaning down to kiss your temple, murmuring into your hair as he buried himself further into your arms that your day together wasn’t ending here, that this was only the beginning, how he had wanted to start of the day by bringing you to one of the hidden treasures of Night Court that he had found during his years of work as spymaster.

You spent a couple of more moments soaking in the warmth of the sun before following Azriel down a winding path that seemed to disappear into the brush. You gripped his hand the entire way down, his thumb stroking at your knuckles, your shared puffs of breath the only sound besides the morning doves coos. You walked for what seemed like miles, until finally, the path Az took you on ended at what seemed to be an opening through the trees. You gasped at the site before you, a remote cabin cafe near the bottom of the mountain that neighbored a waterfall. The water spilling over the edge of the cliff had turned golden from the sunrays, and the fresh mist created a cool sheen around you and Az. He quickly kissed your cheek before rushing inside to grab you a warm egg and cheese sandwich and coffee that he had promised would be the best breakfast you would ever have. The cafe had a porch overlooking the waterfall where the mist could still float onto the patrons without overwhelming them, and you found a little corner nook that seemed like the perfect view to the waterfall and surrounding foliage. Your mate finally rejoined you, sandwiches and coffee in toe, sitting down next to you to take in the scene. 

You had spent the rest of your day there, quietly conversing with Az about anything and everything that came to mind. Laughter was shared between the two of you, along with openly shared loving gazes sent to one another. To think that months ago, you were nearly considering rejecting him as a mate… the thought was nearly sickening now. Any time you mind accidentally drifted to it, your stomach would squeeze and your heart would drop. Every time though, the second Az would squeeze your thigh with his warm hand, you would forget. He sat so freely. His wings were relaxed, nearly drooping on the ground as one was leaning into your back against the chair. The sight of his damp curly ink hair pressing against his forehead, his tan skin highlighted, nearly glowing, by the sun, hazel eyes bright next to the waterfall that glowed with starlight left you breathless. He was truly, and effortlessly, the most beautiful male you had ever known to exist. And to think he felt similarly about you was nearly unbelievable. But here he was, constantly voicing his belief in your beauty, not as an opinion, but as pure fact. 

An hour before sunset, Az insisted on eating an early dinner before setting off on your next adventure. The cafe owner, an older female, who was gentle as she was kind, brought out a full fledged meal consisting of beef stew, loafs of freshly baked bread, and mash coupled with a bottle of wine. She hugged Azriel, kissing the top of his head as she sung his praises, rambling on about how, “he has spent decades talking about you dear, really, I am surprised he finally found the courage to bring you,” and “you are so beautiful dear, Azzy could not have done you justice even if he tried.” The poor male turned red at the nickname, staring you down as a smirk lilted your lips, knowing that endless teasing was about to befall him the moment the female walked back inside. “Azzy?” you mouthed at him, only to have your foot gently pulled by his shadows in reply. The female squeezed your hands after setting down the food, her honeyed eyes gazing into yours, simmering with joy, “I am so happy you are here. The hours this young male has spent loving you is beyond comprehension,” turning to Az with a wink, patting his shoulder before walking back inside. You sat for a moment, a bit stunned by her words, staring at the squirming male before you, it nearly made you laugh how shy he got under your gaze. You pressed your lips together into a warm smile, gesturing at the food, “Let’s eat sweets.” 

Despite being stuffed full, your mate insisted on getting a dessert the two of you could share, “It is the best cake you will ever try dove, I am telling you.” The smell of pineapple wafting from the plate had been so mouthwatering as he set it down in front of you, you almost immediately began digging in. The spymaster, however, snatched your spoon right out of your grasp, chucking it into the forest as you gaped at him, “what the fuck Azriel?” He smirked in reply, picking up his spoon, and scooping the whipped cream off the cake, nonchalantly popping it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped in confusion, but before you could ask him what the hell he was doing, he scooped another part of the cake onto his spoon, this time holding it out to you. You reached up to take the spoon from his grasp, but he, again, pulled away. “What the hell, Az?” you exasperatedly rolled your eyes as he held out the spoon to you again, “What game are you playing?” 

He huffed out a laugh, clearly amused by your annoyance, “No games sweetheart, just wanna feed you myself.” Your continued gaping had his expression dropping into one of shyness, a blush spreading across his cheeks as embarrassment began to fill within him, “I– I’m sorry. Did I overstep?” You opted to not respond, giving him a taste of his own medicine for a moment, watching as he began squirming in his seat, this time holding out the spoon for you to grab onto, clearly uncomfortable that he may have crossed a boundary, that he may have upset you. After a couple of seconds, you decided you had had enough of teasing the poor male, leaning forward, enclosing your lips around the spoon, keeping your eyes locked on his. The cream melted in your mouth, and you shut your eyes, humming around the spoon before pulling away to watch Azriel’s reaction. His flush had spread across his face towards his neck and ears as he shifted in his seat, wings flaring at his sides as he stared at you, his jaw dropping when you hummed again, winking as your tongue slipped out to lick the cream that had been left on your lips. 

You giggled in delight, a shot of electricity coursing through your veins as the scent of the shadowsinger had shifted into something deeper, more musky, something more delicious that had you craving more than just the dessert before you. You spent the next couple of minutes going back and forth, allowing Az to feed you a bite and then himself, playing a coy game of seduction with the spymaster with your tiny moans and winking. With the last crumbs of the cake dropping into your mouth, you were close to begging him to take you right there on the table, but before you could utter out a word, he interrupted you, a soft look replacing his heated one, “I brought you here for a reason, Y/N.” 

You sighed, slightly disappointed at the shift in the mood, but accepting it rather quickly as curiosity began to seep into you, “Oh?” urging him to continue. 

He nodded, his scarred hand coming onto the table, clasping onto yours as he pulled you out of your seat and into his embrace. You lifted your hands to caress his muscled arms before landing on his chest, smoothing down the wrinkles that had formed on his shirt from the hours spent under the mist of the waterfall. “I– I hurt you deeply on Starfall. I ruined the night for you– for us. There is no making up for it, my love. But I heard that there was going to be a rare meteor shower tonight that would be visible from the peak of the mountain right after sunset. It is no Starfall… but… I want,” he sighed, pulling at the back of your shirt in nerves, “I want to redo that night with you, if you’ll let me?” 

You were, for what seems like the hundredth time today, stunned by Azriel. Stunned by his thoughtfulness. Stunned by his love. Never in a million years did you think he would ever think to do something like this for you. He brought you to the peak of this mountain to watch the sunrise, claiming it as a wonder of the night court. He brought you to this lovely cafe where you spent the entire day enjoying each other's presence, enjoying the openness of the bond you shared. He had spent the past couple of weeks, months, just loving you, adoring you the way he wanted to for decades but hadn’t. You hadn’t suggested anything, you hadn’t forced him to do any of it. This was all him. It was nearly overwhelming, the love he was showing you so unapologetically, so truthfully, so thoughtfully. You could feel the urge to cry building up, this time from joy. Joy that your mate was giving you so generously, over and over again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just…” He pulled you closer, pressing your body against his as he inhaled, “I hate how Starfall turned out this year. I just… I just want to do…” He paused once again, recollecting himself, a wry smile appearing on his face at the gentle squeeze you pressed into his shoulders, “I want to make it up to you. I want this to be our mini Starfall this year. But truly… if you don’t feel up for it, we can go home and do whatever you want… or I mean, I can leave as well if you want to spend the rest of your night alone, I understand completely, it's been a long day milling about and–” 

You cut him off before he could ramble on, quickly shaking your head, “No, Az, please. I want to see the meteor shower with you,” yanking your mate down into a bear hug, burying your face into his neck as you sent waves of love down the bond which he immediately returned with ten times the force you had used. He inhaled the scent of your hair, rubbing his hands up and down your back, squeezing at the back of your neck, soaking in the comfort you were providing. You held each other for a couple of more minutes, letting his shadows enclose you two into darkness. 

And then, without warning, Azriel pulled himself away, a huge grin pulling at his lips. 

“Azriel,” you shrieked, breathlessly laughing into the shadowsinger’s muscled back as he threw you over his shoulder swiftly, securing his arm around your thighs before he took off into flight, ascending with no extra effort despite carrying your weight on one of his sides. You clutched at his belt, adrenaline pumping through your veins, not because you were afraid he would drop you, but instead because of the thrill of the moment of intimacy shifting into one of playfulness, “We are gonna be late, my dove, we need to hurry or else we will miss it,” he merrily shouted back. 

You shifted slightly, turning your face towards his back so he could hear you, your teasing voice barely reaching his eardrums over the sounds of the wind whipping around you, “And whose fault is that?” You gasped as the male landed a swift smack on your ass, following it with a gentle bite on the clothed flesh. You kicked your feet, wriggling in his embrace which he only tightened, “How was I supposed to know you would take forever in eating our dessert, my love?” The carefree tone he used highlighted the ease the spymaster felt as he flew you to the peak of the mountain, night falling hastily as the heavens began to peak through the dark. 

You stood with your back against his chest, his arms secured around your waist as you both stared up at the sky. His wings had encircled you completely, providing their warmth when you had shivered against the chill of the wind. He had done it almost reflexively, like he hadn’t even thought of it. The moment he felt the slight shift in your stance, his wings strung around you to blanket you. You patiently waited, leaning into Az, resting the back of your head into his chest, admiring the brightness of the stars and the moons. 

And then, a bright streak lit the night sky. You gasped at the beauty, the meteor leaving a trail of stardust that twinkled in a prism of color, the sky merely morphed around the pressure of the spinning rock. And then another streaked across the night sky. And then another. And another. And another. Until the night sky had brightened into an aurora of meteors, the stardust twinkling brighter than any of the stars in the background. Tears lined your eyes at the beauty of the sight. Never had you seen anything like this. Starfall didn’t even compare in terms of the magnificence to this. 

“Azriel,” You paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “Thank you. This is so, so stunning.” Your hands gripped at the muscles of his arms that were wrapped around you, squeezing as tightly as you could. He strengthened his embrace around you, kissing your neck, then the lobe of your ear, and then your temple before resting his chin atop of your head, “The depths of my love for you are endless, my dove. You don’t ever need to thank me. Not for tonight. Not for today. Not for any of this. You deserve every ounce of love and affection I have for you. All of it belongs to you. And I can guarantee you that this sight… it does not even begin to match your beauty.” 

A while after, Azriel had laid out the same wool blanket he had used on the roof of the house of wind months ago, allowing for you to lay down, one of his shoulders supporting the back of your head. Occasionally, he would lean down to press kisses into your temple or your forehead, or just to smell your hair sending strokes of warmth, peace, content, and love down your bond that was now singing. Your hand had searched for his, interlocking your fingers together the second you found it, rubbing the scarred skin with your thumb, lifting it up every once and a while to kiss every ridge and line that marred the back of his hand and palm. 

And you stayed that way, for hours and hours until the meteor shower had stopped, the moons and the remaining aurora now being the only source of light in the night sky. You turned, shifting to rest your chin against his chest, leaning up every once and a while to kiss his sharp jawline. His iris’ flickered back and forth between yours, caught in a deep thought that he murmured out after kissing the tip of your nose, “You know dove, I have always felt so terrible about my hands. I hate the way they look. I hate the way they are ruined by the horrors of my past. I– I torture people, and sometimes I think that maybe the mother left my hands marred because of how I use them to hurt others.” His eyes grew distant, as if he was remembering the sins of his past, the sins of his future. “Stop that, Azriel. Right now.” You pulled his hands into your chest, holding them close to your heart, “You protect the Night Court with these hands. You protect the people of Valeris with these hands. You protect your high lord and lady with these hands. And you protect me with these hands. These beautiful, perfect hands are nothing to be ashamed of, my love. I absolutely adore every crevice, every ridge, every inch of these hands. Honestly, they are my favorite part about you.” 

He stared at you for a moment, searching your eyes for any hint of a lie, but he couldn’t find any. A small smirk lilted at his lips, “Your favorite part, dove? I can promise you that one day, that will change.” You snorted at his cheekiness, a small… maybe a large, secret part of you believing him. But there was no way you were going to tell him that. You would, however, meet his teasing with your own, “I worship every part of you Azriel, don't you know that?” You pushed yourself up, using his chest as your anchor, lifting your leg over his to move yourself into his lap. His grip shifted from your hands to the curve of your hip,  “Oh?” he asked breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as his hazel iris’ darkened into a deeper, burnt shade of brown. 

“Oh yes, Azriel” you leaned down, a hair's-width separating your lips from his. His breathing quickened, feeling his heart begin to race beneath where your hands were placed on his chest, you closed the distance, licking at his parted lips, sliding your tongue across the plump of his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut as he moaned into your parted mouth, suckling on your prodding tongue, reclasping his hands at your hips, tightening their hold as you began undulating against him, locking your lips together as the sounds of his groans filled the night air. 

10 months

You stood in the kitchen, silently stirring the soup that you were warming for dinner tonight, lost in thought and missing your mate dearly. Azriel had gone off on a mission to Dawn a couple of days ago with a promise of being back as soon as possible. And true to his word, earlier in the evening, he had sent word that he was back in Valeris, but he would need to debrief with Cass and Rhys before he could join you. The moment you had received word, you had moved to the kitchen, ready to eat dinner with your mate and then stay up with him for the rest of the night. And maybe… maybe you would keep him in bed with you, and refuse to let him go. 

You smiled to yourself when you heard the door to your balcony open, pushing the soup off the stove, and running towards your bedroom where he stood at the doorway waiting for you. You didn’t hold back, leaping into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning in to press passionate kisses into his lips. He smiled into each kiss, chuckling at your eagerness, holding you up by your ass and kicking the glass door shut behind him. He continued moving his lips against yours as he carried you out of the room, slowing your kisses into softer ones, and then into pecks before plopping you onto the couch. He didn’t hesitate for a second, pushing your legs apart to rest his own in between them and nuzzling into your neck as he flopped his entire body weight onto you. 

You laid together in silence, one of your hands running up in the space between the spymaster’s wings, massaging at the tender knots, all the while allowing his shadows to play with your hair. “They missed you,” Az murmured as he pressed open mouthed kisses into your neck, running his fingers up and down your side, feeling every curve, indentation, every part of you that belonged to him. You hummed in reply, preening at Azriel’s attention, your other hand fumbling with the locket he had given you decades ago, twisting and turning it between your fingers, and then opening and shutting it creating a soft clicking noise. 

Azriel pulled away, letting out a soft chuckle, before fingering the locket away from you, rubbing at the constellations and the poem engraved into the solid gold, “What does it mean Az?” Your honeyed tone encouraging his shadows to sing back sweet nothings at their master's love. 

He stayed silent for a moment, a shy smile gracing his beautiful face, a raw contrast of his usual stoicness, his fearlessness, and yet, here he lay before you. With every part of his soul bare, every part of his heart exposed to allow for you to do whatever you wish to it. He burrowed his face back into your neck, suddenly shy, hiding the flush that crept up his neck to the pointed tips of his ears, “It’s a poem, dove,” his words slurring together, drunk on the feeling of you pressed against him. Your now free hand reached down to play with the scarred fingers of his free hand, his breath catching every time you lifted one to press a gentle kiss into the flesh. 

A huff teared through your lips as you nipped at the pad of his pinky finger, quickly soothing the sting with a kitten lick that had the spymaster’s wings flaring as his body shuddered against yours. “I figured that out for myself Az,” you paused, shifting your gaze down to his, throwing one of your legs around his waist, “I mean what does it translate to?” He stared at you for another moment, eyes shifting between yours, studying you, memorizing you. Memorizing the way your hair frames your face, memorizing the way the warmth of the flames creating a soft glow to your skin, memorizing the color of your eyes that he can never find the words to describe the beauty of, memorizing the way your eyebrows move independently allowing him hints of your emotions, memorizing the teasing smirk you flashed at him that had his heart skipping a couple of beats. The words slipped out between his pink lips as smoothly as water flowing through a river, 

“Oh my beloved.

You have taken my darkness, 

As the light of a bright shining star that is you.

I am yours. 

I’m a dark darkness, and you are my enchanting light.

You are my golden morning sun,

You are my silver moonlight.

I am yours, Oh my beloved.”

Every word came with a pulse of love down your bond, a pulse of longing, a pulse of worship, a pulse of devotion. It built up inside you, a welcome sensation, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of yearning that ended in a tender passionate love that you carried for the shadowsinger, for the spymaster of the night court, for the male laying before you, for your best friend, for the love of your life, for your mate. Az sucked in a shaky breath, pausing, his eyes flickering with a fervor and nerves, but otherwise, was still, with his hand pressed into the curve of your waist, letting the heat seep in through the fabric of your dress. The only sign of movement in the room came from his shadows that swirled around you, encompassing you both into a comfortable emptiness that separated reality in this moment, from the reality of the outside world. 

Even in the darkness, you could feel his eyes hadn’t left yours. He hadn’t left you. The steam of warm air that slipped passed his lips pressed a gentle kiss into yours, reminding you, he would never ever leave you. The candescence of his voice lulled your racing heart as you reeled at his ballad, your mind dissecting every word and phrase that he, Azriel, had chosen to inscribe in the locket you wore since the moment he had gifted it to you. After another shaky inhale, he continued, 

“Every sorrow I carry,

Yanked away

As you fill my eyes with your light

As you talk to me without speaking

My world is in your love.

Oh my golden morning sun, 

Oh my silver moonlight,

Oh my beloved, I am yours.”

“Oh Azriel…” his shy smile returned as he studied your reaction to his words. You didn’t have anything to say. There were no words that you could say, that you could even think of saying that could properly express the way you were feeling right now. So you reached down to grasp his chin, leaning down to move your lips against his in a series of kisses that echoed with the love you poured down the bond. After a couple of moments, the timer for the oven went off. And you forced yourself away after another rush of kisses, taking a deep sigh, pushing him off your body but pulling him up with you to follow you into the kitchen. You seated him at the small dining table, resting your hands on his shoulders, leaning in for another kiss which he gladly returned, eager for more. A low hum was tugging at your bond as you slowly moved away, putting your oven mitts, opening the door to it, allowing the warm air to rush against your face as you pulled out and set before Azriel, a blueberry pie. Your mate's favorite dessert. You shakily smiled at him as his shocked gaze turned away from the piping hot dessert to you. You nervously wrung your hands together, “And the constellation?” 

His throat bobbed, “The…” He stared up at you, mouth opening and closing as he continued to swallow on the air that had suddenly left him, “The what?” His eyes flicked back and forth between yours as you seated yourself next to him, leaning forward to cut a slice out of the pie to place in front of him. “What does the constellation mean, my love?” His body shook as you took the fork that was resting on the table, trembling as you picked it up and cut through the edge of the pie on the plate, bringing it up to your lips to blow some air to cool it down. 

“It was the only constellation that was present in the night sky the day we met,” he muttered, his hazel eyes suddenly lined with tears as he held his breath watching your slow movements. 

A tear escaped, slipping down his cheek as you nodded in understanding, smiling at your mate as you brought the pie to his lips. He didn’t move, hazel iris’ needing to know. Needing to know if this was what he thought it was. If this was you offering food because you were accepting the mating bond. “Please Az. Eat the pie, and let me accept the bond.” A choked sob exhaled past his lips as he took a gasp of relief, your own tears of happiness streaming down your cheek as he leaned forward, humming as he stuffed the bite into his mouth, the golden thread tying you together, glowing and singing with acceptance and love. He pushed the plate away the second he finished swallowing, yanking you into his lap, kissing every tear that had spilled past your cheeks away before finally, slotting his lips against yours. “I love you so much, my beautiful mate, my dove,” he murmured out in between gasps as your hands cupped his cheeks closer, pressing your lips together harder, “I love you too Az, always.”

Taglist: @paasrin @positivewitch @fieldofdaisiies @judig92 @sv0430 @highlady-ofillyria @wrensical003@brekkershadowsinger@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@mrs-azriel @cityofidek @nova-stardragon @thewarriormoon @ilovespideyyy@azzydaddy@bookish-dream @nobody00sthings @marigold-morelli@solossweater@rubygirly@hanasakr@ellievickstar @shadowcrossworld @lucyysthings@cameronsails @peachycandy10 @bruhhv @flyingsquids @adreamerforthestars@lahoete@mis-lil-red@his-sweet-nightmare@esposadomd@blurredlamplight@elizarikaallen@tiffthebookworm@valeridarkness@wifeofcamillamacaulay @everyonehatescarmen  @azriels-favorite-simp@goldentournesol@marina468@elsie-bells@slvtherinseeker@cafe-inaaa@honeyrydernot@itsonlymemyself-and-i@nemesis6666@thegirlintheshadows101-blog@kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake

[deathbxnny]

Alright, I've finally found the time to write the second part to "No Happy Endings" for my dear Flower Anon! This one is very dark, so please read the content tags, before reading the one-shot!!!

(Part one)

Content: CW!VAGUE SMALL MENTIONS OF MURDER, DECAPITATION, Potential ooc Arlecchino?, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, small mention of depression/suicidal ideation, blood, gaslighting

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

《And he imagined you with him. (Lyney x Reader)》

"Do you understand the point of this mission, Lyney?"

It was a simple question.

One, that on any other day, could've easily been answered with a single word. But ever since you've disappeared over two weeks ago, Lyney found himself at a loss for an answer. He shifted on his feet, tongue wetting his chapped lips, before he hummed weakly and nodded. None of his usual bravado or confidence in sight.

"Ofcourse, Father."

He winced ever so slightly at the absolute pathetic stutter in his tone. Why did he even bother replying at all? There was no point in hiding his true feelings, not that he could have. They were engraved in his sleep deprived and pale face.

But Arlecchino decided to play along with his lies. Something he'd come to regret until he took his last breath.

"I knew you did, ofcourse... but just in case you dared to forget one day, let me give you a reminder you'll forever remember."

Lyney raised his head for the first time since he and his siblings were asked to meet the Harbinger in this dim, dark room. He felt a slight shiver run up his spine at the cold and unimpressed gaze that met his unsure one, his body stiff and painfully tense. His siblings on each side of him didn't move a singular muscle, perhaps out of fear of getting her attention next. And for once, he deeply wished to be out of the spotlight.

Arlecchino slowly raised her hand, before placing it on top of a box. Had it always been there? He didn't remember, the room suddenly feeling so suffocating and warm. Sweat rolled down his forehead, as he chose to ignore the worried glances that Freminet and Lynette gave him.

He knew that it was painfully obvious that something was wrong with him, and yet, he still wanted to keep up the facade desperately. It was a matter of survival at this point. And it made him wonder in that moment what had brought him to this point again.

It was still you, ofcourse. It was always you. Ever since that night, he had ro regretfully reject you.

In the agony that filled him over the last few weeks without you, he had begun becoming very sloppy and clumsy with everything he did. He was completely out of it, practically spiraling head first into a deep hole he didn't want to crawl out of anymore. He just wished to know where you were.

He hadn't slept properly in forever. He couldn't keep food down. He saw you in every mirror, in every reflection. He heard your laughs in the sound of birds chirping in early mornings, heard your stories in his wild, hazy dreams of your ever fading figure.

Every was just you. But you were nowhere to be found.

He had tried finding you after that night, he really did. And yet, no one knew of your whereabouts. You had disappeared overnight, your home empty and vacant, no trace of you, despite everything still being in place. It's like you never even went home after the ball to begin with.

Deep down, especially now, he knew what had happened to you. He could see it replaying in his Father's eyes, perhaps even see the blood dripping off her sharp talons that seemed to dig into the lid of the box in silent anger that not even she could conceal. But he still chose to dream.

He chose to believe that you had simply left the country, like the rumors told him you did. He imagined you laying in the bright fields of Mondstadt, the wind blowing through your clothes and hair, as you sung beautiful memories. He imagined you traversing through the vast and empty Sahara of Sumeru, eyes squinting against the scorching sun. He imagined you drinking tea in Liyue harbor, your eyes gazing out longingly into the distance as the sun set over the ocean. He imagined you visiting a Shrine in Inazuma, the Sakura trees swaying in the wind as you rested against them.

And finally, he imagined you in Snezhnaya with him, your hands intertwined, a golden band on each of your fingers. He imagined you doing all of those things with him, just like you always told him you wanted to. He loved it when he heard you speak of your future with him always in mind. It gave him the feeling of having a choice for once.

Even if it was all crushed under the Knaves heel now.

"Father, I-" "-Open the box, Lyney." Arlecchino slid it towards him, uncaring now if the blood that poured through the thin cardboard drenched the wood below. Said young man felt Freminet step behind him ever so slightly, Lynette practically not breathing anymore once she realised what was going on. The terror and disbelief that filled the air was palpable.

"Father, you didn't..." Lynette was at a loss for words, not knowing what exactly she was accusing the woman of. Or perhaps she didn't want to believe it. Freminet gripped onto Lyney's vest, his hand shaking as he gulped weakly, when Arlecchino sighed and shook her head in utter disappointment from where she sat.

"I can't believe that such a simple distraction made you all stray so far from what you are really here for. Especially you, Lyney. Didn't you want to take my place one day?" No. No, he didn't. Not anymore. He wanted to die more than anything. Melt into a puddle at her feet and hopefully merge with the blood that dripped off the table onto the floor. "Prove to me that you meant it. Prove to me that you understood our mission. Because this-" She tapped a sharp claw against the lid, her head resting against her palm as though she was bored. As though she wasn't completely destroying whatever was left of his heart and soul. "-should've never made me have to do this. It's your fault, and you have to fix this now."

He hated the way she spoke to him. He felt like a child being scolded. He knew she was trying to twist his mind and reattach the strings you had cut with your love for him. And yet, he realised that it didn't even matter anymore. The quicker he got done with all of this, the quicker he could see you again. He despised how that actually filled him with slight relief. He had truly completely and utterly given up on everything. And Lynette was the first to notice, as she shook her head and whispered for him to not do it. To not do this to them, to himself.

But Lyney just pried himself free from their grasp, stepping forward, a calm smile finding his face. "Ofcourse, you're right, Father. As always." "Lyney, no, please-" "-We've angered Father enough already." The young man uttered nearly sternly before his hand took Arlecchino's place, his thumb pressing against the underside of the box's lid. And then he paused. His hand was trembling, giving him away. But he couldn't let his last show end like this. His smile stretched wide and painfully when he flipped it open at last, his body taking in a deep, shaky breath.

He had found you at last. And it broke all his dreams with it.

Freminet gagged and turned away, a hand clasping over his mouth. Lynette blinked rapidly, nearly stumbling into a seat behind her, practically close to passing out. And Lyney? Oh, how he crumbled. He couldn't take it. He couldn't take the sight of your head resting in this small box, the disrespect making him sick with anger and disbelief. His hands slapped against the table, as he leaned over it, shoulders trembling when he finally began crying pathetically. It hurt. Everything hurt.

And the malice and spite became even clearer when he noticed the rainbow rose that was placed behind your ear. Just the way he used to do it.

He burned with fury, the flames reaching high and wide, spreading into every part of his body, until he met his Father's unimpressed gaze at last through his blurry sight. He hated her. He hated everything. Why did she do this to him? Why couldn't she just have threatened you to leave the country? Why? He had so much to say, so much to scream at her, but all that came out of him were gasps for air and uncontrollable sobs.

Arlecchino hummed in approval at the broken state of all of her dear children, before she stood up, having achieved her disciplinary goals for the night. She didn't spare them a glance anymore, as she passed by them, knowing she had gotten the point across loud and clear. Lyney slid to his knees, unable to bear any of it anymore.

"I hope, my reminder will be enough to return you all to the right path. Fountaine will thank you for your pain." She said, closing the door behind her on her way out of the room, a satisfied smile on her lips at the sound of well-deserved agony.

It was all for the greater good in the end, after all.

Okay! This one was admittedly a bit difficult to write, but I hope you liked it anyway, Flower Anon! I'm always super thankful for your great request!!!<33

[heartfullofleeches]

Maybe you can do Snow White for the fairytale thing where the hunter reader is walking in a forest and trips on one of the dwarfs and accidentally kisses Snow White which makes Snow White think they are their true love

The forest was a mystical place.

Anyone with functioning eyes and a boundary with reality would agree. As the sole human resident of the land, you have bore witness to a plentiful share of oddities, but nothing could ever prepare you for what was to come the day after. Mermaids and winged creatures. Giants and fairy folk no bigger than your palm. You developed a tolerance to these beings, but all paled in comparison to the utter headache you gained that fateful day.

The day had begun with you scouring the forest floor for stray branches. A good source of kindling for fires, and keeping out trespassers with varying warning signs and contraptions. With your eyes in the dirt, the events unfolding around you go unnoticed until its too late. Twisted, gnarled trees with hides the color of burnt lumber shooting upright and flourish with a radiant, pinkish glow. The sudden abundant growth of flowers and wildlife. Two harrowing signs of what you were soon to come across.

You start to realize as a squirrel runs by your foot. Narrowly avoiding stepping on the rodent's tail by a hard, you watch the rodent carry the flower in its mouth up a tree and drop down onto a glass container in the middle of the field. It drops the plant over the slumbering face in the coffin and joins the rest of the animals in mourning for the lost soul. As literal tears fall from their eyes you step back - looking for an exit that's already gone. You were not prepared for this.

Every now and again there existed those who didn't heed the warnings. A young woman on her way to her grandmother's. Children abandoned by their parents and taken in by a witch. The forest centered around these individuals and made their lives something out of a picture book. You've experienced this before and they're nothing short of living through a nightmare. You can't return home until their stories are over and sometimes that can take up to years. You never age, but you feel every waking moment to this day.

Who knows how long this time will take? The time isn't a major factor, but you rather not waste a second in this hell. If you wanted to leave on your own accord, you had to do things yourself.

You walk over to the coffin. A young person rests within. Their skin is as pale as fresh snow, rose kissed cheeks the only drop of color to their frozen face. They wear commoner clothing, but the crown tucked into their hair and necklace around their neck tell a different tale. There's a strange lump in their throat, flexing with every minor breath they take. Their lips hang open with the ragged draw of air they suck in, airways clearly blocked.

The forest animals tear into the safety of the trees as you toss your axe aside and shove the lid off the coffin. You drag the unconscious figure onto the forest floor and bend them forward, patting their back with pressured blows that increase in force as they spit and wheeze. When that doesn't work, you get behind and wrap your arms around their chest - thrusting upwards with your forearms. The blockage flies out with the fourth push, the stranger limp in your arms as their breathing controls to a stedy flow. Their eyes flutter open with the most doe like expressions as a faint smile creeps onto their face.

"My love?..."

You shove them off you and try to stand, but they ground you to the floor with surprising strength. Their cold hands grip at your face, moving stray strands of hair and wiping at the dirt that coated your skin. It's never been more clear to you how callused your hands have grown until their porcelain flesh comes into contact with your own.

"I knew you'd come for me... As the apple's curse took hold I didn't fear for a single moment because I knew you'd be there."

You shove their hands away as they ghost over a scar beneath your right eye. "Listen, I'm glad you're okay, but I'm not your lover."

"Oh, but you are! My family always told me true love's kiss is the only-"

"I didn't kiss you. You were choking on something and I got it out. This should be over soon so I should be going."

You try to get up again - this time their nails stop you.

"It may not have been a kiss, but there still is a contention between us. I feel it. It was fate that led you to me... Don't throw our chance at true happiness away."

"I told you- I'm not interested!" In an attempt to distance yourself from their claws, you reach for your weapon that was no longer in the vicinity. A short man with pointy ears wields your axe instead. The tool is bigger than his whole body, but he handles it well with the help of another. There's about seven of them in total. When they notice your puzzled stare, they point it at you.

"What are you doing with our Snow?"

"I'm not doing a thing. I'm trying to get home."

The formerly unconscious individual deem as Snow pins you in a chokehold to their chest. "Everyone! My spouse has found me. Like the stories go, true love's embrace has healed me. With their aid I will be able to return home and take the throne from my step mother, and we will bring a new era of peace to all."

The dwarfs break out in cheer which you quickly shoot down. "I am not who you think I am. I'm sure your real prince or... princess is on their way as we speak."

Snow gasps. "Oh no. I think the curse has been transferred over to them! We must return home as soon as possible and get them rested. I fear they might hurt themselves if they are unbound..."

The dwarfs pick up on their message with ease. The near dozen creatures work together to tie you by your wrists and ankles. Their sheer number and Snow's arm around your neck makes it an easier task. As more fuel to the fire, they kiss you when you are completely unable to defend yourself - giggling as thei cohorts pick you up.

"Don't worry, my love. True love's kiss will make you all better. No matter how many it takes."

[thesharktanksdriver]

Being Ghost's younger sibling (platonic)

Depending on the day I let Roach live in cannon or die since he isn’t in the 2022 game

Warning: there is mention of abuse because of simon’s backstory

Simon had a complicated relationship with his family, his blood family to be exact

He hated his father for being an abusive piece of shit, a monster instead of a man

His poor mother who took the brunt force of the abuse to try and lighten the blows for him and his brother

His brother who he had a complicated relationship with until it was mended with time

Once upon a time when Simon was younger, he had wished that they’d drop dead. Not just his father but the rest of them

It was a moment of weakness, one he had regretted even thinking of. For his father no, but for his mom and brother yes

He supposed that a fucked up wishing star granted it anyways

That day feels so vivid to him like a blur, just seeing flashes of something in his mind

What he remembers most is the red

Red that stained the corpses of his mom, Tommy, Beth and little Jospeh

When he remembers it it’s like seeing a black and white photo with only the red being in colour

That ugly colour staining them as he felt himself break

His family home, a place once filled with violence is once again stained with it

After that it’s blank, utterly blank as he assumed police and military showed up

What he remembers next is holding you while crying

A small baby swaddled in a cloth with your name etched into it

He had vaguely tempered his mom mentioning a surprise for him to see when he had the moment

You were it, the surprise his mother had been so excited to tell him of

Apparently his dad had shown up a few months back, and shoved you into her arms

His mother, being the kind woman she was took you in despite you not being her child

Tommy and Beth had been helping her raise you, Jospeh had even been excited to be a big brother (not understanding you’d be an aunt/uncle)

You were being kept a secret, they had been waiting for him to come home and meet you

It’s what had saved you that day, along with the fact his mom had put you to sleep for a small nap

It’s there in his shaking and sobbing arms that Simon meets you, his little half-sibling

Despite the fact he wants to be angry at your existence, at how your the bastard child of his dad he can’t

Your just an innocent child, you couldn’t choose your parents just like he couldn’t

And now your left with no one but him

And he’s left with only you as his remaining family

He takes you in

A broken man with no experience in this type of stuff, doing what he thinks is right cause he knows the childcare system is shit

For the first couple months and early years of your life Simon goes through a lot of trial and error

He feels afraid to ask others for help due to his paranoia of history repeating itself again

But eventually Simon is able to figure out what to do

He goes about raising you with care, something he’d only gotten from his mom. All the while fearing that he one day would become his father

He knows he never would, but it’s still a thought that plagues his mind as he puts you to bed

His once barren home is now filled with colour, a safe house with the bare necessities now decorated with memories like the sharpie ink on the doorway to show how much you’ve grown

He was never one for sappy shit but for stuff like that he goes soft, almost feeling as if parts of himself are being mended through you

Not healed per say, he doesn’t believe that anything could ever really help him process his trauma…but seeing you have a happy childhood helps him

During these first few years when he has to leave for missions he trusts you with his now retired friend Roach

Gary quickly becomes “uncle” Gary/Roach as he looks after you when he’s on duty

Ghost gets small texts from a burner phone every couple of days with a single word that has hidden meaning

A simple “good” would probably be fine but at this point Ghost is still extremely paranoid

When he gets back Gary tells him to lighten up a bit and he reluctantly does so

Ghost always feels relived after so much fighting and returning home to see you happy and running up to him (barely missing tripping over your own feet)

What surprises him though is when you call him dad after one of his returns

Even Roach doesn’t really expect it

Simon feels himself crumble at that, tears pooling in his eyes as he kneels down to hug you

He kinda just silently cries, his tears soaking up into his mask and smudging the inky black makeup around his eyes

He never forgets that moment, it’s just forever ingrained in his mind especially since he realized that you said that to him while he wore his mask

Your young child mind wasn’t afraid of him in his infamous skull mask like he had been when his brother used to terrorize him

No, you still recognized him as Simon, the man whom you thought to be your father

And that sticks with him

When you get to the age when you begin to develop interests and a more prominent personality he finds himself content

Your at an age where he can do more than just play and watch cartoons beside you

Simon 100% funds and encourages your interests whether that be drawing, sports or anything else that you find fun

Even if it’s not his thing he joins in with you or overlooks the activity, giving you encouragement and praise

He’d particularly be really engaged if you liked something more on the creative side

Since he can then hang it up on his walls in frames and it’s safe

He’d also feel really conceited since he has a small hobby of carving small wooden figurines

Which in this scenario he’d definitely show you how to make them

When you make your first one he’d definitely carry it with him on duty

A subtle reminder of you waiting home for him and that no matter the situation he has to get home

It’s also at this point in your life that he takes you places

If you mention you want to go to Disney, we’ll guess what he’s bought tickets and you guys are now taking an entire month off in California (not Florida though, he doesn’t trust that place)

He wants to make as many meaningful experiences he can for you due to the fact he’s gone so long

School is handled via online learning and private tutors due to the fact he lives far out in the country in a heavily secluded area where the rides to school would take at least a 2 hour bus drive and then some

He could move but he prefers the house to be a place that is hard to find

Due to this you don’t have many friends except for the careful few that Simon let’s know if your existence

Like Price, Laswell and of course uncle Roach

He trusts them enough to leave you with them during employment

But he especially leaves you with Kate and her wife since he thinks you need some women figures in your life

Not knowing that just having him is enough to you

He gets a small tattoo of something that he associates with you. Something like a nickname he gave you like bumblebee or blueberry

Yes his nickname’s are kinda random but their meaningful to him and have stories attached

He’d especially like if you have a nickname for him as well something like “boo” or “ghosty” since they associate with his call sign

When you transition into teenage hood that he gets assigned to 141

He realizes at this point that maybe he’s done a good job raising you until his self doubt begins to eat at him again

It happens to him in cycles as you grew up but now it hits harder when knowing you wouldn’t have a normal teenage experience because of him

You wouldn’t have a prom or parties due to his decision to live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere in the British countryside

But at the same time you’d be screwed if he sent you to school due to the fact you’d only done it online and have private teachers help you

And his mind begins a spiral which he doesn’t get your opinion on

It’s also at that point that Simon feels it’s time for you to know the truth

From this point he’d taught you about his mom, Tommy, Beth and Jospeh

But never the fact that he was your brother and not your dad

He expects you to be mad, and scream at him

A small part of him wants that to happen because he believes he deserves it

But that doesn’t happen since for a long while you knew, for months you knew

And maybe even before then

He asks why you never brought it up, why you still referred to him as dad despite knowing he wasn’t

And what you say makes him cry like the day when you initially called him dad

“Si, you may be my big brother but you’ve raised me as your own. There’s never been anyone else who’s been a father to me except you, and you’ve done a good job at it”

And like that day he found you he crumbles

And you let him cry as he hugs you, scared that if he let go for even a moment you’d disappear like sand through his fingers

Simon though he has his flaws and seems like a blank slate is someone who is made of compassion

He loves despite the fact he is afraid to be hurt once more

And when he loves someone he covets them more than his own life

Most do not know this but your the prime example of this

Because if it came down to it Simon would do anything to save you

Simon is a good brother and a great father despite what his own mind says to him

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Forgetting the end of the third part of second chance, all of it just made me feel so sad for Lucien. Someone needs to write something about Lucien being brought to Helion way younger, like as a child or something.

Look at me turning into Vanseera and Helion blog and all this time I thought I didn't have it in me. Also, I think I was supposed to make it better but I might just made it worse... upsie...

warning: blood, beating, child birth, all the warnings that come with Beron.

Live, Licien, live

The wind was so harsh. So cold. So bitter. Rarely were the nights in autumn so cold but it seemed like the world had been suffering today alongside Eris. Maybe it was his father's bitterness that followed him. Maybe it was his ever-seeing eyes, that now lashed at him for disobeying. He was supposed to be in the training hall, kicking and slashing at his other brothers. But he couldn't not after today. Not when he had watched the horrors of it for some time now.

How long can one neglect the inner voice? Shouting and clawing at you that it was all wrong. That this was not how the world worked. Couldn't be. His father had been wrong. Real power couldn't lay in the joy of making others suffer. Beg. Bleed beneath your feet. Eris had already done so many things wrong. Had given in to his father's cruel demand. Out of fear of dying himself, had bled others dry. But he never forgot their faces. He could name every single soul he sent to the other world. But this time. This time he couldn't sit still.

Eris's mother had given birth a couple of hours ago. Yet from the moment the pregnancy was announced, Eris felt that something was off. Beron valued his litter. The fighting dogs his wife provided. Eris had watched her go through childbearing multiple times and his father's hands would soften when the swell in her stomach rounded. Yet this time she was offered a cell. A bucket. Beatings. Water if she was lucky. And Eris had never been more confused. Was Beron suddenly against having more sons?

He tried to raise the question to his father. It wasn't in a pleading way, he approached it as a future high lord and yet the furry that left his father the moment Eris spoke his mother's name. The beating had been like no other. Eris hadn't even crowded out of the throne room after. Just laid there hoping that his body would heal a little and then he'll drag himself out. But that was more than enough for him. The baby growing wasn't Beron's. That was clear.

So Eris slipped into the cell as often as he could. He still couldn't properly feed his mother because someone would notice but he kept the food as nutritious as possible. Enough to keep them both alive, to help the baby grow and his mother go through labor. He had bribed the guards who had been ordered to beat her. Eris couldn't stop them fully because his father came down here almost every day to watch his wife fade away. But enough to keep the kicks and slashes away from her bump and breasts, enough to soften the blows.

Eris had pleaded for days for her to tell him the truth. Tell him who the father was so that he could hold onto something. Know why the furry in his father burned so hard. She said nothing, "Not your burden to carry", she said day after day. Until she went into labor. Way too early. Way too fast. The beating that night had done the trick. Even her body had given up on growing that innocent soul within her.

Eris had found her in a pool of blood, panting, gritting her teeth. Pleading with the gods to not let this happen. To let her keep him within her womb just a bit longer. But fate was cruel. It had laughed at his mother that night. No one came to help her. The cell doors had been locked tight the moment her screams echoed through the basement. Eris knew that this was another way of making her pay. Having her die like a rat there while bringing a bastard into this world.

Just Eris had learned parts of the house no one besides him knew off. He had dragged buckets of water there in a hurry, blankets. Did he know what he was doing? No. But his mother was there. The one source of decency. The only reason why he wasn't like his father. So at that moment, he didn't care what he had to do, he was going to fight for them if they refused to. He was going to try and save them.

Of course, his mother had tried to usher him away. Beginning to let her be in her shame. Let Mother Nature do her thing but Eris was unmoved. He crotched next to her. Pushing heaps of blankets behind her and beneath her back. "You'll get yourself killed", she sobbed, watching as he wetted the cloth to soothe the dizziness she was feeling, "Go, before his blade slashes your throat". But her words did little to inflict fear in Eris. He braced his hands on her legs, just as he had seen the healers do many times. Their eyes met and he could tell that something in his mouth had shifted.

Eris heard her scream even here. Even as he ran across the dark forest. At times the wind sounded just like her. No longer like his father. It sounded as if she was crying for her two boys. Her two sons who still had hope of keeping their hearts untarnished. Eris wished he could erase the image of her lifeless body, though. Wished he could have frozen the smile that brushed her features when Eris brought the baby closer to him, pressing his palm over his mouth, to drown out the sobs. And then in the blink of an eye, she was gone. Just a pile of broken limbs and a pool of blood. Eris had talked one more glance before he fled. Maybe they were going to assume she just died like this with the baby instead her. Just bled to death. He hoped they would. For everyone's sake.

The baby inside his arms let out a cry. A cry Eris wished he could have let out as well. Lucien. His mother had whispered the name before she went. Little Lucien. Eris only held the boy closer. Not even hours in this world and he was already fighting toughest battles. But Eris was going to make it better. He was going to save him. He could feel the baby squirming against his chest, feeling the little tears that fell onto his skin, "You'll live, you'll get to live. Live, Lucien, live", Eris muttered over and over as he rushed.

It only dawned on him how this all might look when he was standing right outside Helion's castle. The guards had pointed their weapons at him and here was Eris Vanserra, trembling like a leaf with a screaming baby in his arms, "I need to see him", he pleaded, "Let me see Helion". But no one wanted to listen and no one would have if not Helion himself had heard the commotion and the sobs.

"What's all of this", he had roared, making the guards stagger back. It's only when the red hair came into his view did he halt himself. That same color of hair Helion had kissed so many times on his lover. But it couldn't be her. There was no way for her to leave just like that. It's the panic. The smell of her. The smell of blood. That made him order everyone away as he pushed Eris through the gates.

Eris only managed to make it through into the hall before his legs bucked and he sank to the floor. "Boy, what's all of this? What's going on?", Helion demanded, yet it wasn't anything like the way Beron demanded. Helion had still left him a choice to refuse to answer. Eris didn't trust his words. Not just yet. Not after everything that happened tonight. He pulled his cloak off, pushed the side of his shirt aside, and pulled back the messily wrapped fabric.

Helion's eyes had grown big as he inhaled sharply. Eris could tell that he understood what this meant. That he hadn't expected it. But he knew what this baby was. "Yours", Eris crocked out. Letting the high lord reach out, to pull the baby out of his arms. "Mother died", those words made Helion's body shake, jaw clenching. But he only held onto the crying babe stronger, "Mother died but Lucien lives. Keep him alive Helion. Keep him alive".

[taylortruther]

The way almost EVERY single line in YLM can be related to a previous like she wrote about Joe is INSANE. Like YLM is basically the song that would most fit the theme of Midnights (reflecting on the past and integrating it into the present) and guess what? She left it out (for reasons that I understand).

Here we go;

You say I don't understand and I say I know you don't// Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

We thought a cure would come through in time now I fear it won't// I thought the plane was goimg down, how'd you turn it right around?

Remember looking at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light...now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time// The entirety of Daylight duh

Remember looking at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light...now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time// The entirety of Daylight duh

Do I throw out everything we built or keep it //I am an architect I'm drawing up the plans (I'm reaching here I know)

I'm getting tired even for a phoenix always rising from the ashes // I am ash from your fire

Mending all her gashes // is this the end of all the endings, my broke bones are mending

You might just have dealt the final blow // Darling this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart (these two lines feel so similar to me)

Stop you're losing me (I hope I never lose you) I can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore// he got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue

Every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes// after the storm something was born on the 4th of July

How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying// There's many different ways that you can kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick // I gave SO MANY SIGNS

My face was GREY but you wouldn't admit that we were sick // I don't like anticipating my face in a RED flush (I could write an essay about just this grey/red parallel but nvm)

And the air is thick with loss and indecision//clearing the air I breathed in the smoke

I know my pain is such an imposition // You don't really read into my melancholia // Always taking up too much space or time // I'm not your problem anymore

Now you're running down the hallway // I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway // You were standing hollow eyed in the hallway

And you know what they all say "you don't know what you've got until it's gone" // he better lock it down or I won't stick around 'cause good ones never wait

How long could we be a sad song // each bar plays our song

Till we were too far gone to bring back to life // Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?

I gave you all my best mes, my endless empathy // I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best// After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that?

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier // All the bloodshed, crimson clover // And if I bleed you'll be the last to know // soldier down on that icy ground

Fighting in only your army // I'd sit with you in the trenches

Frontlines don't you ignore me // I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me

I'm the best thing at this party // best believe I'm still bejeweled when I walk in the room, I can still make the whole place shimmer

And I wouldn't marry me either // She would've made a lovely bride // I'd marry you with paper rings // all they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride // the entire bridge of Lover

A pathological people pleaser // what a shame she's fucked in the head // mirrorball tm // my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism

Who only wanted you to see her // Walking with his head down, I'm the one he's walking to

And I'm fading thinking DO SOMETHING BABE // Some boys are trying too hard he don't try at all though

SAY SOMETHING // You don't ever say too much

LOSE SOMETHING BABE RISK SOMETHING // this ain't for the best

CHOOSE SOMETHING BABE I'VE GOT NOTHING TO BELIEVE // stood on the cliffside screaming "give me a reason"

i have nothing intelligent to say but I LOVE THIS, let's discuss

[celestoria]

Love Is Where The Wind Blows

Summary: He always assumed he’ll live a life without romance…until you came

Characters: Venti, Scaramouche (separate)

Tags: no gender specified pronouns, minor angst for Scaramouche

A/n: I was inspired by The Wind Rises, hence the characters. The movie is so cute and sweet arghhhhhh. It would have killed me with cuteness aggression if it wasn’t for the ending.

Venti

Venti lived for many years and had different identities, yet hasn’t fallen in love even once.

He knows what love is of course. To be a well-renowned bard, you have to be one with your emotions so your audience will be moved by your performance.

It’s just that he never related to his songs.

All his ballads were about other people. He’d observe people from afar how women lean on their lover’s shoulder as they sit around while enjoying each other's company and men holding their beloved close because they want nothing but her safety. Once those scenes spark his imagination, he’ll write a song about them to perform to the people.

But ever since you, something stirred in him.

At first, all he wanted was your friendship, something the ever-enthusiastic bard was fond of. He always spent time with him whether it be sleeping under the green leaves of Windrise, or crowded festivals where everyone had bright smiles plastered on their faces.

As time passed, found himself yearning for your presence when he’s in his favorite places in Mondstadt and he’ll find himself thinking about you when he mindlessly blows dandelion fluff.

“Is this what love feels like,” he thought.

————

That evening, another sleepless night cursed him. He found himself restless with the thought of you racing in his mind and if he did fall asleep, he knows you’ll be there to follow him.

With the bed feeling a little bit more uncomfortable by the second, Venti stood up and turned on a small lamp. The drawer slid open and he reached out for a blank piece of paper and a pen.

They say if an artist falls in love, they will immortalize their lover in their work. That way you can never die.

He was just about to do that.

How lucky both of you are. You caught the pure heart of a bard and he fell in love with a person you’d only meet once in a lifetime.

The next morning, Venti woke up with a complete tune and a rush of excitement for you to hear it.

Scaramouche

A heart.

It’s something Scaramouche yearned for since the beginning. He knew that if he had one to call his own, he knew what it would mean to be human.

He wanted to feel joy, excitement, and love. But what did life give to him instead? Pain, agony, and bitterness. Sometimes when tears fall down his porcelain-like skin, it’s as if he’s not worthy to feel such emotions.

After all, he’s just a puppet.

That’s why he thinks it’s bold of you to come into his life. Will you betray him the same way his friends and mother did? Will you be another addition to his tragedies?

The fear growing within him always told the puppet that those were bound to happen to him yet, whatever charm you placed on him, Scaramouche can’t seem to get rid of you. Under his snarky demeanor, he was scared of what the future would bring him but at the same time, he can’t wait to see every single moment that had you in it.

Scaramouche would find himself daydreaming about little strolls with you in the city streets, and how your warmth would feel when he has to share his hat with you in the pouring rain. He wanted to know what it would feel like for you to hold him in his arms after nights of spending them all alone. Moreover, he finds it delightful when he pushes your buttons so he can get that adorable little reaction of yours to surface.

Since you came into his life, it’s as if his dark, roaring thunderstorms turned into windy summer days. The same emotions still lurked in him but in a different light.

It was a pain that he fell in love with you, but he’ll never regret one bit of it. It was agonizing whenever you’d leave, however, he knew you’d always come back. Most importantly, it was bitter that you weren’t with him because he wanted you all for himself.

He accepted long ago his chest will never be a place for a beating heart to be in. However, he knew his heart will always be with you ever since the day you two met.

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 11 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

AO3 link

How We Got Separated

"Where are you going?" Emily asked, floating behind him.

Alastor did not answer. He kept making his way to the main doors that thankfully were easy to find. The door that he came out from was one of many in an ample circle full of other ones, but he could not care less to find out what was behind them. There were no other angels or winged creatures present. Only Emily that seemed to be more curious to know what he was planning than to stop him.

When Alastor opened up the crystal doors, he had to squint his eyes again. Why did everything in this place had to be so bright? How did anyone could see anything like that? As soon his vision adjusted, his stomach dropped through the floor back to home.

The sky was a clear perfect blue, decorated with fluffy white clouds. All the street were spotless shinny gold reflecting that could reflect anything like a mirror. Not a single trace of vomit, trash or blood as far the eyes could see. Nobody was fighting or yelling. Every creature that was passing by had their own set of wings and halo.

The air he was breathing in was too pure. It smelled vaguely pleasant, like someone was baking cookies everywhere at the same time. So perfectly organized, so immaculate that surely not even a pin would be out of place without getting fixed.

Alastor felt his own soul snearing. How could anything be so vile? How did anyone could live like this and not want to blow their head off to scape it? Where was the chaos? Where was the violence and grossness of the human condition? Where was the power struggle and the heart wrenching failure? Where was the fear that pumped the heart? Why nobody was screaming!?

What kind of monster could set up such a setting for eternity?

Controlling his own nausea, Alastor forced himself to move. He had already seen where he wanted to go. Emily noticed the direction of his eyes and perked up.

"Oh, do you want to see Saint Peter?" asked.

"Yes" said without looking at her.

The creatures that were on his way all moved to let him pass. They weren't doing it out of fear for knowing his reputation. They were just being polite. Some even said "excuse me" as if somehow it was their mistake that Alastor wasn't paying any attention to them.

Hell.

This place had to be the real hell after all. It made sense. He had too much fun back at home and now finally was receiving the punishment he deserved. His own personal hell. And he was called cruel? Oh, whatever he ever did, alive or dead, was child's play compared with the sadistic mind that would make such a horror as this one.

Alastor speed up.

"I can take you with him directly if you want" offered Emily, keeping up easily with him.

"No, thank you" said Alastor, clenching his jaw. "I missed the part where you explain why you are following me."

"Well, you seem… a little upset. And it's my job to spread joy to everyone so, I should probably do something with that. If there is any way in which I help you out to adapt better to Heaven, please let me know."

"Joy?" Alastor laughed, like that was a foreign idea. In this place at least it was and certainly more with this creature that was annoyingly remind him to Charlie. Good grief, that would be just the best way to torture him. To twist the knife on his gut real good. "Are you part of my punishment too?"

"What?" When Alastor didn't clarified any further, she continued, concern layering her voice. "I am… Are you okay? Maybe the travel was too abrupt and left you confused? I assure you, nobody is here to punish you. The punishment is over actually! You don't have to worry about anything anymore."

Alastor stopped on his tracks and turned to her.

"I assure you, my dear. I am very well aware and conscious of my surroundings" said, his smile feeling tense as his eye twitched. "That is not the issue I am facing. If you care about my wellbeing, you can rest easy now and come back to your heavinly duties. I don't need a babysitter."

Emily pouted at that. Clearly, she wasn't used to people rejecting her help. He started walking again and she didn't stay behind.

"I am not trying to babysit you!" she protested, floating at his side. "You are obviously going through something right now and a friendly hand goes a long way! If you let me help you, I am sure you will feel better."

Alastor looked around them, almost expecting mocking faces or people to look weirded out at anyone trying to be caring out of in the open. But everyone just kept walking, trusting that whatever was happening this Emily would know how to handle it already. That also meant that nobody was going to do anything to take this angel off his back if she decided to stick around.

He mentally groaned. Maybe if he played along for a bit she would be convinced to leave him alone.

"I changed my mind. Take me to Saint Peter" said and after a beat, added. "Please."

Emily arched an eyebrow, but she still smiled with a nod.

"Of course. I understand that for new souls it's always difficult to adapt to their wings. Later I can teach you how to handle yours! Lift your arms."

"My what" Alastor lifted his arms, trying to look at his back when suddenly Emily took him by the hands, elevating him on the air.

The travel up to the gold gates he had seen at a distance lasted only a few minutes. Emily let him land softly on the ground and floated to knock on the gate.

"Peter, can you come in for a moment? A new soul that just arrived wants to speak to you."

"Sure!" A perky voice answered on the other side and the gates opened. Alastor saw another road of gold up ahead that got lost in more clouds, no clear beggining or end. If he managed to jump from it, would he be able to get home or would just be a splatter on Earth, only to be brought back again? "What I can help you with?"

Alastor looked up to the saint and something inside recoiled at his too big openly friendly smile, full of good disposition to spare laid out in the open. Was this man ever really a human? Where was his nose? What did Heaven had against noses?

"I wanted to ask if you can see my name" said Alastor, after swallowing. "I believe there must have been a mistake. I shouldn't be here."

"Well, my friend, if you are here it must be because you are supposed to be here! Although it is weird that you didn't appear here directly. I am supposed to be the one to greet the new ones, not you, Emily" commented Saint Peter with a slight frown.

"That is because he is a reformed soul!" intervened Emily enthusiastically. "He appeared right in front of me and Sera at the very center of everything! That must be why he had a different way of entrance."

"Oh, seriously? Reformed from where?" Saint Peter looked at him with a new look of curiosity and Alastor showed his teeth on a too wide smile too, more than willing to bite if he put his hand on him. Saint Peter made a oh sound when understading reached him. "From downstairs. Right. Yeah, I can see that now. He is still a bit… rough around the edges, huh?"

"I am sure a period of adjustment is to be expected" said Emily, conciliatory.

"I will say. But anyway!" Saint Peter shrugged, elevating himself on the air to reach his book. With a flick of his wrist the thick volume floated in front of him, the pages moving from front to back. "I can take a look if that makes you feel any better. Your name, please?"

"Alastor… " Alastor looked down at his hand to see that his wedding ring was gone.

He was expecting something like that, it was only logical, but actually seeing it was still a new kick to the face. To make it even worse, his hands were so different now. The skin of his hands was desaturated brown instead of pure black and the tips of his fingers had lost their intense red color, turning into a muted pink. If Charlie was there, people wouldn't connect them directly as father and daughter even if they did paid attention.

"Alastor… what?" asked Saint Peter.

Alastor frowned. Did that last name even applied to him anymore? They had taken his colors, his family, why not his last name too?

"Try Morningstar" suggested anyway, without noticing the way that Emily's eyes light up. "If that doesn't appear, Abaddon."

"Morningstar?!" repeated Emily, looking him down and up. She gasped, holding her own cheeks. "Are you the father of Charlie Morningstar by any chance? I did heard that one of her parents was a sinner! I knooow…" The eyes of Emily darted for a second to Saint Peter, concentrated on looking in his book. "I mean, I didn't know that you were him! What a coincidence that you would be the first success of her hotel!"

The way she laughed, keeping tabs on Saint Peter, concentrated on his book, made Alastor suddenly a bit more interested on her. He decided to save that as a mental note for later.

"I am" said, relaxing a bit more around her.

Charlie did mentioned a seraphim that was willing to listen and believed on her ideals just as much as she did. This one had to be it. Emily smiled again, taking his hand to pat it gently. Alastor allowed her to.

"She would be so proud of seeing you right now."

He just let the silence fill the space until Saint Peter spoke up again.

"You are here" said, floating close to Alastor. He turned the book around so Alastor could see his name, at the very bottom, written with the same golden ink as any other. "Right there, see? Alastor Morningstar."

A small comfort, but a comfort all the same. Alastor clinged to that feeling as strong as he could. That is right, that was him. He was part of the Morningstar family, ring or not.

"I suppose you don't actually know why, though" said, knowing already that it was useless and useless it was when Saint Peter shrugged.

"Sorry, not my job" said, returning the book to its place. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Alastor looked at the saint and then at the gates.

"Oh no! What is that horrible thing over there?" Alastor pointed at something on the side.

When both angel and saint turned their heads, he made his way to the open gates. The stupidest and oldest tricks on the book sometimes could still work. But even though he was sure that his feet landed on the other side, he felt a pressure around him as if moving through a wave and suddenly found himself in the exact same place where he started.

"What are you doing?" asked Saint Peter, honestly confused.

Alastor grunted and ran again. For a second he thought this was working, only to be pushed back.

"Is… is he trying to leave?" Saint Peter looked to Emily to confirm that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Nobody had ever tried to leave.

"Mmm" Emily frowned with concern when Alastor raced a long way back and then throw himself to the open gates, with the expected result of landing on the floor over his side. He couldn't get hurt, but still it wasn't something she liked to see. "Alastor, I don't think that is going to work."

Alastor glared at her. The sudden rage behind his eyes took her aback, but did not scared her and that was even worse for his mood. She had no reason to fear him. Here they were on her home. She had the power and ranking over him, which meant he was at her mercy.

Emily offered him her hand to help stand up and Alastor took it. But instead of lifting himself up, he pulled the angel closer and spoke to her on a low, controlled, voice, just for her ears.

"Get me out of here or I will tell everyone you helped out the king of hell to have an unofficial meeting with a winner. Let's see what the rest of heaven thinks of a seraphim that is supposed to spread joy breaking the rules."

"Everything okay?" asked Saint Peter.

"Yes!" said Emily, quickly, turning around to him. Alastor was relieved to see that he had hit the nail on the head. He wasn't entirely sure she was the same seraphim when he said that. "Everything is perfect! Alastor was just… playing a little prank, right? Right, Alastor? A little joke for Peter?"

That was more like it.

"Yes, a prank" said, returning to his normal charming smile. "A winner trying to escape heaven after finally managing to get out of hell! Tell me if that is not the hilarious thing you have ever heard."

"Ooh, I get it now!" Saint Peter laughed, so hard that his eyes started to tear up. "That is hilarious! You would have to be an idiot to do a thing like that!" He calmed down finally, smiling to Emily. "Heaven could always do with another kidder, right? Makes things more interesting."

"Absolutely, yes" Emily bite her lip. "But, uh, I have to give Alastor the tour now. You know the drill! I will let you get back to work."

"Don't worry, it was a slow day anyway so I needed the distraction" Saint Peter chuckled as he patted the back of Alastor, completely missing the look full of murderous intent that he got as a response as he flew to the other side of the entrance no issue. "Welcome to heaven, Alastor. Feel free to come by anytime!"

"Thanks for your help!" said Emily, waving at the man until the gates were closed. Once she was sure they weren't moving anymore and therefore Saint Peter couldn't hear them, she turned to Alastor with tense fists at her side. "You know, when someone does a favor for you, most people would be grateful instead of holding it over their heads by blackmailing them!"

"I was grateful" said Alastor calmly", right until I got stuck here against my will. I was perfectly content back in hell."

Emily's eyes widened at that.

"Wait, really? I thought the hotel was for redemption. Isn't end up here supposed to be the goal?"

"Mine wasn't. I was only there to support Charlie" Alastor sighed, rubbing his temple. This is what it got him try to be a good father. "I had a daughter, a husband and a life I had built for myself after years of hardwork. Why, and pardon my french, the hell would I want to give up any of that to be here?"

"Oh" Emily looked down, twisting her hands together. "I-I am sorry, I didn't know. I thought this was what you were looking for. If you didn't, then of course you would be upset to being send to an entirely different realm."

Alastor let his shoulder fall. Truly, she wasn't more to blame for his situation than anything else was. At least she was able to actually listen instead of insisting how lucky he should feel for being there.

"I have to get back. My family needs me" Emily nodded, but her eyes still had doubt on them. Alastor crossed his arms. "Surely there must be a precedent to a soul being send back to hell. If my husband managed to get kicked out from here, there is no reason why I shouldn't."

"Your… Oh, right, Lucifer. I don't know, Alastor. Angels and human souls are not really treated the same. I think maybe the rules are a bit more strict for us. Heaven is supposed to be for humans after all."

Alastor thought of Adam. That crude, violent man who took genuine joy of slaughtering people. Besides that last detail, with no redeeming qualities that he could imagine. A human soul given too much power that reveled on it. Maybe that was the real reason why he still was up in Heaven while others had been casted out for doing a lot less. He had been deemed "worthy" already, the decision was final.

"I have no use for a place like this" said, disgusted at the thought. "Find a way to get me back or I will do it after telling everyone what you did. If I have to burn every house I come across and slash every neck that I can get my hands on, then I will. I will show to you and the rest of heaven how right they were sending me to hell."

Alastor wanted to call his magic to give his words more emphasis. But his shadows didn't respond and no tentacles were coming out of him. Did he even had any power left on this new realm? It made him sick just to think of how weak he had to be now. He didn't let any of that show on his face, smiling as usual.

Emily stared at him, not sure of how to respond.

"Okay, so, just so we are clear, we don't want to come to that, right? We both can agree there" asked after a while.

"I don't know, I feel with a particularly arsonist mood every minute I am away home" He sighed. "I am missing the battle too by being here. That doesn't help."

"You mean the… Oh" Emily floated closer and Alastor remembered that the rest of Heaven wasn't supposed to know about the extermination. He could probably use that as more leverage. "Is that how you ended up here?"

"Are you asking me how I died for the second time?" Alastor arched an eyebrow, amused. "Isn't that a morbid topic for an angel to feel curious about? Do you want me to describe how I felt myself drowning on my own blood, my dear? Or how I touched the injury of my neck open? Oh, wait, I could give you a demostration myself! Since Heaven won't let me have pain, I could just…"

"Do you do that a lot?" asked Emily suddenly. "I already accepted to help you out, Alastor. You don't have to try to intimidate me."

Alastor cleared his throat. Old habits died hard. She was more perceptive he gave her credit for.

"You do realize that try to send a winner to hell falls under the breaking rules category, right?" changed the topic easily.

"But if I don't do it, you will tell I already broke the rules before so what is the difference?" Emily frowned. "And just so you know, I would have help you even if you weren't backmailing me. If you genuinely are miserable in Heaven and want to return to your family, that would be the least thing I could do. I don't want anyone to be sad for all eternity."

"My mood is irrelevant. Like I said, they need me down there" clarified Alastor, holding his hands behind his back. "That is a nice sentiment, but I need to be sure we are going to be on the same boat, dear" Alastor smiled wide, petting her head like a little kid that was finally learning to multiply. "That is how we do things back in hell. I can't count on your word alone. If I don't fall, you fall. Or whatever else they decide to do with you, I don't know or care. Understood?"

"You are really mean" Emily pouted slightly, looking to a side.

Alastor did too when he thought of Lucifer calling him out.

"I know" said, before taking a breath. "How are we going to go about this? I already know what method I prefer to go with. The infinitely funnier one. Let's hear yours."

"Maybe the library?" suggested Emily. "It has a record for the most notorious souls that reached Heaven. If there is a soul that was vanished to hell after coming here, their name should come up. Then we can find out how they did it."

With no other alternative, that is where they went. The whole library seemed to be a cathedral by itself, way too big for anyone without wings or that couldn't fly, which was not an issue for Emily. As she was elevating herself to reach at the highest registers of books, Alastor had no other choice but to wait for her on the ground. That obnoxiously clean reflective ground that was returning to him the image of his new body there.

It was awful. Besides the change on his own skin, his hair had become duller like his finger tips. His whole suit had been changed into a soft yellow with some details in pure white, like the cross on top of his chest, the sleeves and the lapel jacket. He hated it, almost as much as the white his antlers had turn into, but none of that was as offensive and disgusting to his mind as the pair of white wings at his back and the halo above his head. Those two things in particular made him want to slam his head against the reflection until somehow he could destroy it or cause enough brain damage that he would die again.

On the time that Emily took to come back, he had at least the chance to learn to conjure his staff. White and gold, again, with a red heart on the center rather than an eye. The same connection was there, but it felt different, warmer than before. He wasn't sure that he liked that.

The only thing he could very well tolerate was his new brown eyes. He knew those were the closest to his when he was alive and that made it all the more alien after years getting used to the red ones.

Alastor gripped his hands together behind his back, elevating his gaze so he could ignore that. He didn't want to get used to any of this.

He was hoping she could have a faster solution at hand. A potion, a crystal, a portal. Anything that he could just eat, grab or jump into directly into the fiery pits that he called home, only to forget he ever saw any of this.

Purely because of habit, his hand reached out for his pocket and, surprisingly, something was actually there. He pulled his pocket watch and stared at it. Why was that still with him, but not his magic or ring?

"What is that?" asked Emily, floating nearby with a book on her hand.

The book in question was thicker than her entire torso. Despite that, she seemed to have no issue at all handling it.

"A present from Lucifer" said Alastor, frowing. "I don't know why it followed me to here."

Emily flied over him, throwing a quick glance to the object. Just that seemed to tell her everything she needed to know.

"It's made of angelic steel, isn't it? Then technically it already belonged to Heaven, so I guess it just came to its origin. With all the more reason if you are the owner" she explained, taking the book to a nearby table to open it up. One of the heavy half of the book slammed against the table, but no dust came because of course it wouldn't. Emily wasted no time going over the written lines, her eyes quickly jumping from one point to another. "It's a beautiful work, by the way! I haven't seen steel used like that in a long while. I guess people consider it old fashion now."

Alastor smirked at that. It was old fashioned in hell too. That is why Lucifer knew it wouldn't be out of place for him to have it. He opened up the cover and the clock was still ticking like normal. If what Vaggie said was true, then his time was still the same as it was on hell. Meaning that there had been already four hours since the battle started and two since he died again.

"Right now the first man must be dead" assumed, shrugging as he put the watch back where it belonged.

Emily shook her head at the casual comment.

"What-what? Why do you say that?"

"He killed the spouse of the devil. In hell" Alastor explained it like it should be obvious enough, relying his weight on the marble table. "A dumb move if I ever saw one. Lucifer doesn't know that I am here either. I will be very surprised if he left any of your little exorcist alive after that. Ah, what I would give to have seen it with my own eyes. It must have been truly glorious. To not witness my husband going all out on some puny angels and stain the ground gold with their blood in a mockery of Heaven might be the biggest tragedy of it all."

Emily stared at his wistful expression. She did not understand hellish beings at all.

"I don't know if to be creeped out or endeared by that" said after a while. Her finger was still moving over the page, following each line. "Your face and the words you say are confusing me."

Alastor chuckled. He took notice that she wasn't saddened by the lost of Adam or the other exorcists, which did earn her a few more points.

"Feel whatever you want, dear, but do keep searching. The sooner I can come back, the sooner I can ask Lucifer all the details."

Emily sighed.

"I don't know how long this could take" recognized, throwing a glance at him. "You know, while I am doing this, you could…"

"No" Alastor alredy knew what she wanted to say.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I won't go visit my mother."

"Ah." Emily played with the corner of a page for a second, almost shy. She knew she was threading on personal territory and didn't want to overstep his boundaries. Alastor could appreciate that. "Mmm, want to tell me why is that?"

"What is the point? Just so I have to say goodbye again? To tell her sorry, mom, I actually prefer to live in hell for the rest of eternity than live in heaven with you? By the way, we might never see each other again, so let these be my last words to you." He exhaled through his lips, practically a snort but not quite. Luckily for him the entire library was empty with the sole exception of a library angel that was floating on the furthest shelfs, no interested in telling them to shut up. "What mother wants to hear something like that from their only son? What person even?"

Emily pressed her lips together, thoughful.

"She does know Lucifer though. And Charlie" said, as gently as she could. "I am certain that she would understand that you want to be with them. And don't say again that your mood is irrelevant. You are allowed to miss your family."

Alastor's lip twitched as he straighten up again, leaving the table. Emily followed up his movements, not sure if she had screwed up or how badly.

"Keep looking, dear. I need some… disgustingly fresh air. I might see where I can get gasoline."

"You are not going to burn houses, right?" asked Emily. The snickering she could hear from Alastor did nothing to calm her down. "Hey, no cut anything either, okay? If there is anything here that can help I will find it! Just have some patience, alright?"

Alastor dedicated her a high thumbs up, not promising anything. When he heard a little groan from Emily, he draw a bigger smile. She was too easy to pick on.

He thought that a walk would help distract his mind and it did, replacing the thoughts of his mother with more disgust directed at this entire realm that he thought was capable of. Up head he saw someone dropping their purse while talking through the phone, only for a stranger to pick it up and give it back without even trying to see what was inside. The owner of the purse thank them, they shook hands and each of them were their separate ways.

Neither of them tried to knock the other. There was no demand for a reward. There was no second inspection of the purse to see that something gross hasn't been put inside. There was no bomb in the purse to surprise any of them. A perfectly civilized and calm interaction that nobody around them cared about.

How utterly disgusting. How could they live like this? Every day for eternity?

Alastor shook off the shiver that ran through him and continue walking. If Lucifer could find him no matter where he was with his own angelic powers, then no doubt Emily could do the same when she found his way back home.

He didn't had any concrete objective in mind, so his steps somehow end up in what looked to be a commercial area. Except that everything was for free all the time and yet, nobody was trying to take out the products off the shelfs or exhibitors. It was all registered calmly by a cashier and it was done, wishing everyone to have a good day with a genuine smile. Absolute madness.

He was looking for a butcher shop or appliance for the kitchen where he could see the knives, when a reflection in the vitrines made him stop. He turned around and wasn't wrong. An exorcist was just coming out from a ortophedic shop, testing out still the shiny metal arm coming up above where her elbow used to be.

Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. Did Lucifer do that? Did his love ripped an arm clean on his rampage? Oh, he could only imagine the scream of pain that exorcist would make. He hoped it had been a espectacularly high pitched one. The voice of a soprano perhaps whose painful notes could break glass. The only question was why was she alive. The thought of her somehow managing to escape was unlikely, but not entirely impossible, he imagined.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was already following after her, instinctively knowing to keep a healthy distance to not alert her at first. Did any of them survive too? Was Adam somewhere? But no, that would be actually impossible. Once Lucifer had a reason to want someone dead, they had to be a goner. Of that he had no single doubt.

When the exorcist turned in a corner, Alastor went there too and immediately was knocked against the wall. Her metal arm was pressing against his chest.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" asked the exorcist. Alastor noticed that her eyes looked so very tired and slightly red, like she had been crying not that long ago. That brought him even more joy to think were tears of grief. "If you like me so much, you could be less of a creep about it. But beyond that, I am not interested so you can forget it."

"Goodness gracious, no!" Alastor laughed at the misunderstanding. If he did ever had such intentions, she would have never seen him coming. He had been so curious that he didn't bothered to be as stealth as he could be. "I am a married man, my dear. Trust me, I have zero interest on you in that way."

The exorcist arched an eyebrow, looking down for a second before looking up again.

"I don't see any ring."

Alastor's eyes crinkled.

"My point still stands."

"Why were you following me then?"

"Well, you see, dear" started Alastor, grabbing her arm and twisting it to press it against the exorcist's back, putting her now against the same wall. Even without his powers, he still remembered a thing or two of how to use his body. "I just have a couple of questions and I will let you go. Simple as that. First one, you just came back from the extermination, didn't you?"

The exorcist froze in place, stopping her attempts to get ride of him and looked at him over her shoulder. It took her a couple of seconds, but soon her eyes widened with recognition.

"The red demon on the roof."

Alastor gave her a toothy smile. He had no idea of who she was without her mask. To him she was just any other of the exorcist that used the same dark uniform. It still made him happy that apparently she had been paying attention during the fight with Adam.

"The radio demon to be more exact."

"W-why… what are you…"

"To tell you the truth, I am just as confused as you are, dear. I am trying to rectify this mistake right now. If we are both lucky, I won't be on the same realm as you for long. But that doesn't answer my question, doesn't it?" Alastor let her go when he realized she wasn't going to fight anymore. She turned around, her hand holding onto the start of her mechanical arm as if it was suddenly hurting. Alastor sighed, lifting a finger to press against the metal plaque. "Did my husband do that?"

The exorcist looked creeped out by the tone of his voice. Alastor did not bother to hide the yearning on his voice. Here he didn't had to keep the secret from anyone.

"N-no…" Her eyes darted around, no doubt evaluating the prospect of risking causing a scene. If she did, Alastor would loudly talk about the extermination for anyone to hear. They both knew it. "No, I did it."

"Well, that was stupid and dissapointing. What happened after I was out of commission?"

"Adam…" The exorcist closed her eyes, as if saying that name was already costing her too much. Alastor smiled bigger. Oh, a true loss. How fun. "Adam went for the princess and Lucifer appeared."

"Then what?"

She sighed, her brow wrinkling at the effort of controlling herself. Alastor waited. He could have patience for this.

"I don't really know how, but he took us all out. It all happened so fast. First Adam, then everyone else."

"You are the only survivor?" asked Alastor, imagining alredy the terrifying vision that it must have been to witness.

The sounds of the scream and slaughter as they all succumbed to the king without quartel, learning way too late that they couldn't do anything against his king. More than ever since waking up in Heaven, Alastor so wished to hold Lucifer.

"That is so awful" said Alastor with obvious mirth. "He left you to be his messanger. What message did you had to deliver that it was worth your life, dear?"

The exorcist nodded.

"He said…" She swallowed, looking to a side. "He said I should get to live, knowing I couldn't do anything to save him. He also said that… all of that was the price for his sinner."

Alastor put his forehead against the wall above the head of the exorcist, closing his eyes as he breathed in. His whole body shivered as he bite down on his own fingers. The exorcist's eyes darted around as she took a silent step to the left, away from him. She didn't want to ask or know what was that about.

Alastor wouldn't have tell her even if she did, even if they were close friends instead of strangers meeting in the weirdest cicumstances. He wouldn't be able to describe the pure violent longing that made its home on the pit of his stomach, making him wish he could burn all of Heaven already. Burn them for ever making Lucifer to hurt himself and burn them again for having the audacity of keeping them apart. He wanted to do it now, until there was nothing more than ashes and the gold finally lost its shine, the sky turned grey and their gates was pulverized. The image was so clear on his head that it was already a beautiful painting. It would be his offering, his gift to Lucifer, given in a golden platter before he let the familiar flames consume him.

After a definitely uncomfortably long amount of time, Alastor woke up from his trance. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure as if nothing had happened.

"I am okay" said Alastor, fixing his suit. "Thank you for being so cooperative, dear. I have no use for you anymore so you can continue your merry way. I will keep my mouth shut too" added when she glared at him.

She had no reason to trust him, but for now the need of putting distance between the two of them was bigger than her reason. Right before she ran, her eyes fixated above Alastor and straighten up with a salute.

"Maam!"

Alastor had heard the delicate flapping of the wings already. When he turned around, though, it wasn't Emily that was standing behind him. That other, what was her name? The older one smiled pleasantly.

"You can go, Lute. I was intending to talk to our new resident. You earned yourself a rest."

Lute nodded emphatically, throwing a glance to Alastor before she put her legs to good use. Alastor likewise, hiting the floor with his staff.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced, my dear! I am…"

"Alastor Morningstar" said Sera, tilting her head lightly. "Of course, Saint Peter told me already."

Was Saint Peter the gossiper of this place? Had he made a mistake already? No, they were going to find out his name sooner or later.

"Well, that is no fun!" declared Alistor with a lightheated chuckle. "I wanted to keep some sense of mystery for a while longer, but alas! Let me return the favor then. You are Sera, isn't it? I think Emily might have mentioned it when we first met."

The seraphim nodded. She was beautiful, he had to give her that, but she lacked the open arms aura of his husband. This angel kept her arms in front, where she could maintain at a distance what she didn't need.

"I am sorry I wasn't able to welcome you before. I had to have a talk with the elders about your… situation. You probably understand already how peculiar it is."

"No doubt about it!" laughed Alastor, wondering where the hell was Emily. "Emily has been a delight showing me around already! I don't think I will need any further assistance navigating this place. I appreciate the concern anyway."

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to offer you another tour" Sera put a graceful hand on his shoulder. "Would you mind coming with me so we can have a talk?"

This seraphim was older than Emily. Bigger and probably a lot stronger. Worse than that, he had nothing to hold against her. He had no choice but to follow, for now.

"Lead the way, dear."