#its always nice to get that story off my chest too
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My best friend has romantic feelings for me and it's literally the worst. I feel like I've lost them as a friend because now they just see me as something that they're supposed to have to themselves. It is weird and uncomfortable. I don't know what to do.
[answered by noah]
I had the exact same thing happen to me when I was 15, one of my close friends had a crush on me, my oblivious aromantic adhd ass didn't realise and thought we were engaging in "friendly banter" and "platonic activities" when in reality they were flirting with me (albeit very badly).
I had known and was out as asexual at that point for a few months, but had recently discovered (after a talk with a wise aroace friend) that I was also aro. I had of course told all of my friends at school that day, running around to everyone I knew happily wearing my new label with pride.
But little did I know at the time (I didn't find this out until like 8-9 months later) but wise aroace friend was talking to this friend, cause it turns out they were planning to CONFESS.
Of course aroace friend said "no wtf they just came out as aromantic don't confess your love to them" but only got a "don't crush (friend)'s dreams" from their (they being the person confessing) best friend.
When they did tell me it got really awkward and I was like "Uh I'm aroace" and they went "I know" and looked at me expectantly. After that moment I never looked at them the same way.
It still really pisses me off to this day, safe to say I don't talk to them at all. But that's only because they're also kind of a horrible person who's very hypocritical and overall a massive bully.
If you feel as though you can't be friends with them as the friendship will never go back to how it was, then that's okay! Don't feel like you need to latch onto a friendship, sometimes you just need to stop being friends with someone. Even if the reason for stopping isn't because you don't like them anymore.
But if they're making you uncomfortable by having a crush on you then maybe distance yourself from them, tell them you need to have a break in your friendship. See how they take it, they might be happy to wait, or they might get angry.
Try to talk to them, tell them it makes you uncomfortable and if that means you have to stop being friends then so be it.
#i hope this is helpful to people#its always nice to get that story off my chest too#its very annoying#the whole situation i went through#asks#ask
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When You're On Your Period- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff, comfort a/n: posting my drafts atm bc i just have writers block sorrys /ᐠ - ˕ -マ
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
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Xavier:
He's not particularly educated in the realm of menstruation. So when he saw you clutching your sides in agony, he was so worried about you and ran to your side. He thought you were sick or injured. You try to explain to him that you're just on your period and he eagerly listens to you as you explain it to him.
It's his mission to try and make everything easy for you and makes a special effort to bring you things that might make you feel a little better.
"Can you buy me pads with/out wings?" And he would be really confused at first. He would think you want pads and wings. He would stand in the aisle for a while figuring out which ones you needed. So he'll come back home with a BUNCH of menstrual products with wings from your favorite restaurant.
But also the type to buy you your favorite snacks and drinks before you even ask. Sometimes he'll come home with a small plushie for some support.
Lowkey worried if you're going to be alright but he knows you're strong and will remind himself that you know how to handle yourself.
He would gently massage any areas that were aching. Lots of your time is spent in his arms or resting your head on his chest and he explains that the health website says its "beneficial" to do so and you're not complaining. He's so comfy.
Zayne:
In the beginning of your relationship, he was kind of inexperienced in this department. He knew some knowledge about the menstrual cycle but not too much so he made sure to educate himself so he knows how to take better care of you.
He runs down to the pharmacy to get you some pain medication and any menstrual products you need without any ounce of embarrassment. He doesn't find a reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed about getting you things for your period. Makes sure you have enough supplies to last you the whole week.
Prepares you some yummy warm foods that are nutritious for you and all cooked to your liking. He would also make sure to run down to your favorite bakery to pick you up some baked goods.
If you suffer from cramps, then he would find the best pill for you or make you effective tea. He'll also offer any massages you want on your body and let's just say this man is good with his hands that you don't want his hands off of you.
The type to not tell you that you stained the bed. He'll prepare you a soothing bath while he washes the sheets. When you come back the bed is nice and warm.
He'll start marking it down on his calendar so he can be prepared more in the future
Rafayel:
He would kind of forget periods are a thing but once you remind him, he'll try his best to take care of you. He has good intentions looking out for you and getting whatever you need. You would text him if he can get something for you and he's already on his way to you with whatever you requested.
He'll pay attention to your specific needs and preferences. He'll make sure you're getting your rest, staying hydrated, and eating well.
Would joke around and call this "Shark week." Would pray to any gods to bring mercy on him if he were to ever to be sassy to you on your period.
He'll be worried about you but he knows that you're strong. That doesn't mean he'll leave you alone during this time, unless you want him too. He'll be there to try and ease everything as much as he could.
If you were to have any bad cramps, he would give your lower abdomen a small massage while talking too it. "Hey don't be so mean to my cutie....." or sometimes he'll tell you some stories about Lemuria or maybe hum you a song in Lemurian to get your mind off it. Your head would be resting on his chest, his hands massaging gently into your aching sides.
It's easy to fall asleep in his arms because he can be so warm from his evol
He'll offer to make you a bath and gather your favorite bath bombs and your oils that might ease your discomfort. He would have the perfect temperature for you and would help undress you and help you into the bathtub. Would also feed you some yummy fruits like a princess while you were in the bath
Sylus:
Sylus treats you like royalty the entire time you're on your period. He's extra patient and understanding. You don't have to feel embarrassed at all with him and he will never be disgusted by you being on your period.
If you ever stained the bed, he would clean it up for you. He would reassure you that everything is okay and that bleeding is normal. He'll help run a bath for you while he cleans the sheets. He would never use these situations against you or even embarrass you about it.
He's always there to give you a massage knowing how bad cramps can be. Tell him where it hurts and he'll immediately massage the area with his hands. If massages weren't helping, then he'll warm up a heating pad for you and would find the best painkillers to make it go away.
The first time you were on your period, he bought way to many products for you so you were stocked up. Eventually in the future he knows the exact brand and everything you could possibly need.
When you wake up, he already has a meal prepared for you. Sometimes it'll be made from a private chef or he made it on his own. He'll gladly carry you to the kitchen so he can feed it to you or if you want, you can eat in bed.
Would give you random and frequent kisses. He knows that during this time you can go through a lot of emotions so he'll make sure to give you kisses to remind you that he loves and cares about you.
#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier x y/n#zayne x reader#zayne x you#zayne x y/n#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x y/n#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#xavier lads#zayne lads#rafayel lads#sylus lads#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace scenarios#love and deep space#lads x reader#lads x you#lads x y/n
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can u make a story where chris takes reader on a shopping spree in victoria secret and he watches her try on underwear sets in the fitting room until he can’t take it anymore and fucks her! ☺️☺️
Victoria’s Secret- C.S
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Chris sturniolo x fmreader
summary: going on a shopping spree takes an unexpected but please try turn as chris becomes eager with lust after seeing you in a new set on lingerie.
content warning: SMUT; p in v; unprotected sex (stay safe!); cumming inside; mirror sex; dom chris; fingering; public (kinda?); cum eating; ass slapping; no use of y/n; ‘ma’ nickname is used
word count: 1.6k words
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Considering chris has almost completely destroyed and ripped apart every good piece of lingerie you have owned, you were always desperate to buy new pairs. This was never an issue for you though because the way wearing sexy lingerie made you feel so confident and hot and was always worth it, along with the absolute awe stuck state that was Christopher Owen Sturniolo when he saw you all dressed up pretty and slutty for him.
You had considered making this a surprise for your boyfriend but chris was quick with stuff like this and had almost begged to come with you to pick out his favourite pairs of underwear on you. You could almost never say no to him so of course he came along with you knowing he would pay for everything.
You were in the dressing room of Victoria Secret trying on the many pairs of scandalous and revealing pieces as possible. When it came to a beautiful pink set you had been dying to get after seeing it in the catalogue, you had been almost too eager to put it on. However, the clasps at the back were different and now you had tried everything you could to attach the back of the bra, but it just would not come together. Chris’s was right outside practically on the edge of his seat waiting to see each of the sets, he wouldn’t mind helping you put this one together…would he?
“Fuck…Chris, could you help me in here for a second, please?” You asked so sweetly it was almost like honey dripping from your lips and pouring into the desperate boy's ear. He didn’t even register himself standing and making his way to the dressing room that you had concealed yourself in.
Stepping inside, chris seeing you almost completely naked for him, yet concealed in such beautifully expensive fabric. You looked so perfect, like something right out of the magazines. The shade of pink you wore complemented your skin tone so nicely, bringing out the blush on your cheeks from the shyness you had felt from Chris’s powerful and dominant stare. He loved the image before him. You stood facing the mirror, your hair over one shoulder to expose your bare back and the unclasped bra, which you gripped in your fingers, awaiting Chris’s help. He couldn't take his eyes off your body in the reflection.
His hands reached down and pulled together the clasp slowly, encasing your breasts in the expensive fabric.
"Thank you." you brushed down the sides of the body, adjusting it into place to allow it to become more comfortable. "What do you think?" Looking up at Chris behind you through the reflection. His hands slid up over your ass, up your sides, resting on your breasts to give them a squeeze.
"I think..." he leaned down to run his hands back over your curves again, "I'm about to rip this to shreds and have my way with you."
You smiled through the mirror, shaking your head at him. "Oh, stop. We're in public. Seriously, what do you think of the set?"
A wicked and playful smirk spread across his face as his hands fell on your hips. He fiddled with the sides of your pink lace panties teasingly feeling your sides over the fabric. He shoved his hand into the front of them, his large fingers instantly finding your clit. He stroked over it in slow circles, watching your face contort in the reflection. Chris’s other hand found its way back up to your chest, reaching in to grab a handful of your breast.
Feeling moisture pool between your folds, he dug deeper between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you. You yelped at the feeling. "Now, now, ma, you have to be quiet if we're going to do this." He whispered in his playful voice. You bit her lip, nodding at him eagerly in response.
His fingers pushed further into you, finding their home pressed against her most sensitive spot. You leaned back to his chest as he crouched forward to accommodate for their height difference.
You looked like you were being tortured, the way your face scrunched up as he jabbed into her. He felt you starting to drip onto his palm and your walls clench.
Pulling his fingers from you abruptly, he spun you around by your shoulders to face him. Looking down at your cleavage, he grew angry by the fabric covering you from him. He grasped the part in which had covered your beautiful tits from him and yanked in open, ripping the bra in half. "Chris." you cried, jaw slack by the shock of what he just did.
"It's a fucking piece of material. I'll pay for it." He twisted her back around to face the mirror, now enjoying the view so much more. Picking up his movements, you let out a needy sigh. "Now, be a good girl for me and cum."
"I will." You whispered in a pathetically whiney voice. "Just don't stop. Please."
You felt his cock, as hard as possible pressed against your ass. You rubbed back onto it, eliciting a low breath to escape from his lips. "Ahh fuck, ma." Were Chris’s last words before pulling your underwear to the side, listening to the seem tear, and fully enter you from behind. You haven’t even seen or heard him get his cock out, but he must have been fast from how desperate and eager he had seemed after he say you.
He gripped your waist tightly and he watched you both in the large mirror of the dressing room. He pounded into you relentlessly watching as your perfectly carved ass bounced of of him.
Chris sent a light quiet slap to your ass cheek and you felt like you were in literal heaven. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gripped his arms that held you close to him.
“No ma, look me in the eyes while I’m fucking you,” he said in your ear so low that nobody else would hear. Your mouth fell open, awaiting a loud moan which was quickly muffled by Chris’s hand.
Your ass continued to bounce on his dick, as chris loved his mouth from your ear to the side of your neck, beginning to suck harshly at your delicate skin, while still remaining eye contact in the mirror in front of you.
“Fuck, chris baby, i-im gonna cum…f-fuck,” your words although still slightly muffled were perfectly clear to chris while he felt you clenching and tightening around him. You struggled to hold your eyes open as Chris’s hand moved up from your waist to your exposed tit and began to play with your nipples.
"Cum. Now." He had stated so clearly as he pinched your sensitive bud.
You did. Instantly. That was your breaking point. You squeezed him tight, gushing down on his cock, dripping over him. He kept his grip tight over her breast to hold you up while she wiggled up against him this now making chris reach his climax as well, shooting hot spurts of his cum into you. You stared at him through the mirror, the sight of him alone helping her along and intensifying your climax. You bit down on her lip as chris removed his hand to muffle her moan that still lingered on your lips, but a small one slipped out but it was too quiet for anyone around you two to hear. You both rode out your orgasms together, continuing to remain under each others intense stare. Panting heavily as you came down, he slipped his cock from your pussy and released his tight hold on you. Blinking through your haze, you leaned up against the wall, body weakened from your intense release.
Chris stood back admiring his work. He lifted his hand to his mouth, covered in the sheen of you cum which he had wiped from your sensitive folds. He licked each finger and his palm, lapping up any taste of you he could get. His eyes rolled back at the taste. His favorite. The one he couldn't get off his mind all morning while he tried to work in a room full of his brothers.
"Did that answer your question about the set?"
You let out a laugh, running your fingers through your hair. "I'll need another one now that this one is destroyed." Pulling the shreds of fabric off your shoulders.
You're both piled up everything she wanted and took it to the register after getting dressed back into your regular clothes. The cashier gladly rung everything up, pleased by your haul of clothing. Bralettes, corsets, garters. All of it to your taste of course.
At the end of the transaction Chris remembered the wad of fabric in his hand.
"This too." He dropped it onto the counter, staring smirking at the woman behind it, daring her to question him.
You turned pinker than the set placed infront of you when she stared down at the rumpled piece of lace. She felt bad for Chris' unapologetic behaviour, but this was very usual for him to flaunt you and the work he had done infront of everyone.
Without saying a word, she rang up the shreds of the dress. Swiping the sleek black card from Chris’s Prada wallet, she thanked you, mainly chris who had payed for everything, for your business and sent you on your way.
The second your feet hit the sidewalk; you busted out laughing at the interaction. She figured the poor lady would be scarred for a while over it. Falling into Chris’s side as you both giggled to each other.
Fuck, you loved your days spent with Chris
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A/n: i have been meaning to write this for literally the longest time ever (since i saw the request)!! I loved this idea so much but was just sop busy that i havent written in agesssss!! Pls send more requests because i loved writing this .
Ily my angels 💞
Tag list: @gamermattsgf @lovingmattysposts @mattsrootbeer @myl0vef0rj0hnny @luv4kozume @liz-stxrn @mattestrella @strawberrysturniolo @strniohoeee @itzdarling @skyslondon @3iysian @robins-scoop @chrizz333 @sstvrnioloo @chrizz333 @sturnioloenthusiast @mattslolita@annamcdonalds67 @mixvchelle
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo
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I have a lil angst/fluff request if your still taking them. Its a single dad azriel x reader. Where he had a baby with Elain but she took off with Lucien and she left Az with the baby (lets say baby is 6 months old and has no wings). Az is kinda freakin out cuz babies and him hes a lil scared on what to do. While on a mission in day court Az then meets reader who has the most beautiful white feathered wings and hes instantly mesmerized. Hes there for such a short amount of time so he decides to shoot his shot and lands himself a few dates (not once mentioning hes a father). He notices once or twice that reader will not engage or awknowledge babies when or if they smile and coo at her, but he thinks nothing of it. On his last night in the Day Court the bond snaps for him ( but not for her) and hes so so freakin happy, he invites her to Velaris to visit his family and meet his son. Hes a lil nervous about it and when he finally introduces them shes so cold and distant, wont even hold the baby or look at him. She flys back home that same night and tells Az some lame excuse that hes nice but he should have started out saying he had a son. Anyway long story short turns out that she had struggled to have a baby with her husband, and when it finally happend she had a rough birth but holding her baby in her arms was worth the wait.
*Trigger warning*
In the end she felt she failed as a mother and couldnt protect her baby from an enemy she had made from being her husband had also died trying to protect their child, so seeing children was just too painful for her and so she tried to avoid at all costs. I see it going both ways Az waiting yrs for her to heal and coming back for her, Or Az and them working and healing together, You can end however you see fit, or not at all of its too triggering. I just hardley ever see single dad Az freaking out over a lil baby. And scared af reader.
"Wounds"
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Warnings: talk of child loss/difficult pregnancy, angst, language, fluff, Az being a worried dad, slight Elain slander, happy ending:)
Word Count: 7.8k
a/n: anon, i know this took ages, but i wanted to get it right. i personally have never experienced this, but i hope i did it justice. my thoughts go out to everyone on here who has experienced child loss or hard pregnancies! <3
Enjoy!
"Please stop crying. Please," Azriel begged, his eyes looking worriedly down at the bundle in his arms. No amount of coddling or singing or rocking seemed to soothe the baby, and he was at his wit's end with exhaustion. He held his son close, savoring the warmth radiating from him. "Come on, Ky. What do you need?"
Kyrell, or Ky for short, looked up at Az, his eyes full of tears. His eyes were dark brown, just like his mother's, and Azriel felt a sharp pang in his chest every time he looked at his son. Those eyes brought back memories full of joy, but mostly pain. Azriel couldn't stop his mind from going back to a little over a year ago, back to that day that had changed everything.
"Are you sure, Elain?" Azriel asked, his voice full of anxiety. His shadows swirled around him, sensing the stress of their master. "Have you talked to Madja?"
Elain squared her shoulders, her face like stone. "Madja was the one who confirmed it. I am sure." She rested a hand over her flat belly. "She said I'm only a few weeks along, but she doesn't think the babe has wings."
Az felt a rush of relief wash through his body. He didn't want to remember what had happened with Feyre, and he would rather die than watch Elain suffer the same way. "Are you... happy? I mean, this was unplanned. We were so careful... I don't know how this happened."
They had both been taking the contraceptive tonic, not willing to take any risks since they were so secretive about their relationship. How had this happened?
Elain took a step forward and took his hands in hers. "I am happy, Az. I've always wanted to be a mother," she said, her voice soft. "Yes, this is unexpected, but this baby is a sign of our love. The outcome of a wonderful and beautiful joining that even the cauldron itself couldn't stop."
Azriel's heart swelled in his chest. He pulled his hand from hers, lowering it to rest on her belly. He could already imagine the life growing inside of her, the future they would have together. He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I don't know how to be a father," he admitted. "But we can figure it out together."
Elain wrapped her arms around his waist, careful of his wings. "Together," she agreed.
Those had been fake words and empty promises. Only a few days after Ky's birth, Elain had disappeared quite literally into the night, leaving everything she owned in the townhouse. Az had returned from a short mission in Winter Court to his son crying in his crib and a note on the nightstand saying that Elain had left to be with Lucien. That she had decided to accept the bond and live with him. That she wanted to leave Azriel and their son to live a happy and carefree life.
Unfortunately, being the single father of a newborn didn't give Azriel much time to grieve, or even be angry, about what happened. So he had done what he always did and buried his feelings deep down into his soul. He had a baby to take care of, and he was afraid of what could happen if he let himself feel.
Ky's wail tore through the room, bringing Azriel back to the present. He had cried like this almost every night for the last few weeks, and Azriel couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't cut out to be a father. He couldn't do this. He should have been more careful with Elain. He should have-
"He's teething," Feyre said from the doorway. She made her way into the room, her footsteps light. "They cry like that when they're teething."
Azriel looked down at Ky as he said, "Does that... hurt them?" He ignored how stupid the question sounded as he asked it.
Feyre smiled softly as she held her hands out. "It's uncomfortable for them, and crying is the only way they can tell you. May I?" she asked, her brows raised in expectation. "I do have some experience with this, you know."
Azriel gently handed Ky to Feyre, his wings drooping to the floor. He had moved into the River House after Elain had left. He had tried to do things on his own, not wanting to inconvenience his family. But after a few weeks of not sleeping, or eating for that matter, Rhys and Feyre had all but dragged him into their home, stating that if he didn't move in with them, they would order it as his High Lord and High Lady.
It had been difficult at first, but now he was so thankful for their help. They knew how to raise a baby because of Nyx, and he gladly accepted any advice they offered. They kept their distance, though, allowing Az to figure out fatherhood on his own.
"I'm sorry if he woke you," Az said quietly. "How long does this last?"
Feyre smiled down at Ky, her hand running over his tuft of black hair. "Until their teeth come in." She looked up at Az, and her face hardened as she saw his expression. "This is normal, Az. Healthy, even. It means he's growing, which is a good thing. But for tonight, Rhys is whipping together a salve we used on Nyx to help with the pain. He should have it ready in the next few minutes."
Azriel released a breath, his shadows moving to swirl around Ky. His shadows loved his son, loved swirling around him to make him giggle. "Thank you," Az murmured to Feyre. "For... for all of this. I don't think I would be standing if it weren't for you and Rhys."
Feyre smiled, her eyes bright with emotion. "You're welcome, Az. I would never let one of my closest friends and nephew suffer." She winked at him. "Besides, who else would babysit while you go on a mission?"
Right, his missions. Since Ky had been born, Azriel had gone on a few missions, but he had reluctantly learned how to delegate the harder ones to his spies. He couldn't risk something happening to him now that he had a son to raise, so he only took the easier ones, and he was never gone for more than two days.
"Ky does love to play with Nyx," Azriel murmured quietly as if that was a good enough reason for his son to be left here while he was gone. What would Az do when Ky got older? How would he explain to him the details of his job to his son? What if Ky didn't-
Az was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realize Feyre had moved closer to him. "Speaking of missions," she said quietly, her voice low. "Rhys needs you to go to Day Court. Nothing serious, of course. Just routine surveillance."
Azriel nodded distantly, his mind going numb. "Of course. I can leave in the morning." His mind was already racing, preparing to become the shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and not a scared single father.
Feyre smiled softly, her hand cradling Ky's tiny head. "Don't worry about Ky. We will watch him."
For a few moments, the world narrowed down to his sleeping son in his High Lady's arms. He looked so vulnerable and frail, and Az was overcome with a wave of anger and rage.
How could Elain do this to him? Azriel didn't care if she felt nothing for him, but how could she look at this perfect child and decide to leave?
Azriel locked those feelings away as fast as they came, choosing to ignore them rather than face them head-on. "I'll get the details from Rhys in the morning," he said finally. "A routine trip to Day Court can't be that difficult."
---
It turned out that a routine trip to Day Court could be that difficult. Immediately upon arrival, Azriel quickly realized how much training his spies here lacked. He had spent hours rehashing the basics—how to blend into a crowd, how to remain silent in the shadows. These spies were supposed to be his eyes and ears, yet they couldn’t even follow the simplest of protocols.
Most infuriating of all, they hadn’t been sharing information with each other. One claimed to know about the political shifts happening within the Day Court, but when pressed, they admitted it was only rumors. Another had no idea about the movements of the court’s key players. It was as if they were all operating independently, blind to the larger picture.
Prythian was shifting, changing, and these people had failed to notice. Azriel’s temples pulsed with a dull ache, the constant incompetence chipping away at his already thinning patience. How had it gotten this bad? How had they let things slip so far?
By the time the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the streets of the Day Court, he was no longer hiding in the shadows. There was no point. His headache had grown unbearable, a sharp reminder of how much he longed to be somewhere else—anywhere else. He thought of his son. He missed him fiercely, the boy’s infant giggle, the way his tiny hands would reach up for him when he returned home.
But now, he was trapped in this beautiful, sunlit prison, surrounded by spies who couldn’t even spy. The thought made him grit his teeth.
He had just turned the corner onto another street when he was stopped in his tracks. Before him stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen, but what caught his attention was her feathery white wings. They shimmered faintly in the sunlight, as if they had been dipped in iridescent powder.
"Hey, watch it asshole!" The yell came from a disgruntled bystander who didn't appear to be happy with Azriel's sudden stop in the middle of the busy street. With another curse, the bystander made their way around Azriel's hulking form, so obviously out of place here in Day.
Azriel shrugged it off, taking a step forward to keep walking down the street, but he was stopped by the sound of a lovely female voice.
"It's not every day we get someone from the Night Court around here," the female said with a smile.
Azriel blinked. It seemed that the commotion on the street had been loud enough to catch the beautiful female's attention. She now stood before him, her white wings tucked in tight.
"Am I that obvious?" Azriel asked finally. He had years of practice at blending in, and this female had called him out immediately.
She chuckled, the sound soft like wind chimes. "Well, black isn't really a Day Court color. And," she said, gesturing to his wings, "I don't know of another court that has winged males."
Azriel shrugged nonchalantly. "You never know. Maybe I'm from a court nobody has ever heard of. I could be an undiscovered creature, here to make a home in Day Court."
Azriel had always been good with females, never struggling to use his charms and looks to woo them. Hell, he usually didn't have to even say anything.
But right now, he honestly didn't know what the fuck he was saying. An undiscovered creature? If Cassian ever heard about this...
The female laughed again, this time tipping her head back. Azriel was mesmerized by the sound, his chest tingling. "You're not a creature," she said matter-of-factly. "You're Azriel. The shadowsinger."
Az crossed his arms, his eyes looking at the female warily. "You've heard of me?" He knew he had a reputation in Prythian, and it wasn't a good one. Normally, it wouldn't bother him if others knew what he did, but something about this female made him want to fall to his knees and repent for all of the wrongs he had done.
"Of course I have. You fought in the War." She was smiling at him, her cheeks dimpling slightly. "Besides, I've always been curious about shadowsingers, so it's only right that I would know about the only one alive."
His shadows were swarming him now, despite the bright sun. We like her, they whispered to him. She is different than the others.
Az cleared his throat, his eyes on her wings "Your wings... I've never seen any like that before."
She looked over her shoulder at her wings. "I got them from my mother, or so my father says. I wouldn't know. She died when I was young, and I don't remember her very well." Despite the dark turn of the conversation, her tone was light, her smile still plastered on her beautiful face.
Azriel found himself smiling slightly. "Well, they are very beautiful." He felt a blush creep onto his cheeks as the compliment left his lips, but her bright smile washed it away.
"Thank you, Azriel," she responded, her eyes bright. She tilted her head as one of his shadows wrapped itself around her wrists. "I like your shadows," she said with a giggle.
His shadows never acted like this with anyone, not even Elain. With Ky, they were protective mother hens, but now, they almost seemed... enamored.
Azriel was not usually the type of male to ask a female out who he had quite literally just met. But he knew he would hate himself if he didn't at least offer her dinner, so after a few moments of watching his shadows swirl around her, he asked, "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight?"
She looked up from his shadows, her brows raised. She sheepishly bit her lip as her wings twitched. "I would," she said. She offered him her hand, rings glinting on her fingers. "I'm Y/N, by the way. I figured you would ask my name before asking me out on a date, but I have always heard of the strange Night Court customs."
Azriel took her hand, fighting the urge to look at his scarred skin against her perfect flesh. "My apologies. I, uh, I-" He struggled to come up with an excuse for his lack of manners, but he came up short.
She patted him on the shoulder gently. "I can forgive you. As long as you pay." She clicked her tongue, looking past him to the shops lining the streets. "Day Court is amazing, but I swear it has the most expensive food..."
Azriel smiled as he listened to her ramble on, following her as she made her way through the crowd. His shadows still swarmed her, but she didn't seem to mind.
After all, it was only one date, and then he would go back to the Night Court... and to his beloved son.
---
One date turned into three, and Azriel couldn't help but admit to himself how much fun he was having. He had not laughed this hard in ages, and even though he had only known her for two days, he felt more open and seen than ever.
He had told her all about his training in the camps, the wars, the Inner Circle. She had listened intently, even diving into her own life. It turns out that she worked at a small bookshop in the city, and she had two roommates in a small townhouse.
She seemed to have such a simple, perfect life, and Azriel found himself full of envy. He tried to fight it, but as he listened to her talk about her daily routines, he wondered what it would be like to live such a life.
"Why were you up at three in the morning, anyway?" she said with a laugh. They were walking down the streets, enjoying the quietness that came with nighttime in the Day Court. "Most people are asleep then."
Azriel paused for a moment. He had been telling her of the time he had found Cassian eating an entire chocolate cake with his bare hands in the kitchen. He had been up because Ky had been crying, and he had wandered into the kitchen for a bottle, only to find a chocolate-covered Cassian and a pissed of Nesta.
Azriel had told her many things, more than he had ever told anyone, but he left out the fact he had a son. He didn't know how to bring that up, afraid she would judge him, or worse... take pity on him for his unfortunate situation. The thought of someone feeling sorry for him twisted his stomach, and he wasn't ready to see that look in her eyes.
"I couldn't sleep," he said at last. "What? They don't have midnight snacks here in the Day Court?"
She rolled her eyes playfully. "Midnight snacks, yes. Three-in-the-morning snacks, absolutely not."
"Well, you're missing out. You should really try-"
Azriel was cut off as a young fae female walked up. She was pretty, with pointed ears and bright red hair. In her arms, she held a small child, no older than two or three. The child was wrapped in a pink blanket, sleeping soundly against the female's chest.
Azriel's heart clenched as a wave of homesickness swept over him. He missed Ky terribly. He knew he was doing alright, thanks to his earlier check-in with Rhys and Feyre, but he longed to be the one holding his baby. He could almost feel the weight of his son in his arms, the scent of him, the way his little hands would reach for Azriel in the middle of the night.
"Y/N!" the female greeted, her tone warm. "I haven't seen you around in ages! How have you been?"
Azriel's companion smiled, but he could see something dark in her eyes. "I've been... good." Her voice was tighter than usual, all signs of her earlier laughter gone. "And you?"
"Oh, you know. Tired all the time, thanks to the little one crying at all hours of the night." The female smiled softly, bouncing the child gently in her arms.
Azriel could understand that, at least. He would never forget the time he almost put his boots in the fridge instead of the milk because of his exhaustion.
"Yes, well. I've always heard motherhood can be difficult, but you look amazing- if that counts for anything." As Y/N spoke, Az noticed how she made it a point not to look at the sleeping child, keeping her eyes on her friend's face.
Perhaps, she didn't like children? Or maybe she wasn't really friends with this woman, and she was trying to appear uncomfortable to get out of the situation?
The other female's gaze lowered for a moment. "I am sorry. I.. I-" she stammered for a few moments before shaking her head, seeming to right her thoughts. "Right. Well, I'll leave you two alone." She smiled kindly at Az. "Enjoy your evening."
She quickly hurried off, leaving Azriel to stare at Y/N. "Are you alright?" he asked lowly, daring to place a gentle hand on her arm. Her gaze had gone nearly vacant, and he decided he would do anything to bring back the warmth from earlier.
She blinked whatever emotion she was fighting away. "I'm fine. That woman is always driving me up the walls. Always coming into my store, asking if I can spare any free books."
Azriel nodded, but something told him there was more to the story. He decided not to press it. "Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.
The two of them made their way down the street, once again laughing and carrying on as if nothing had happened. But there was still a shadow there, a voice telling him that there were still pieces of her that he didn't understand.
---
The mating bond snapping into place took Azriel completely by surprise. It was Azriel's last night in the Day Court, and she had been showing him her bookstore.
She had handed him a new arrival, her eyes alight with passion, when he had felt that snap inside of his chest. He had stumbled back into a shelf, his wings pushed against the wood, his hand on his chest. He was still struggling to breathe as she leaned over him, her voice soft.
"Azriel?" she asked, her tone full of worry. "Are you alright? Let me go get you some water-"
Mate. You are my mate. His thoughts were drowned out by a deafening ringing in his ears, and it took all of his self-control to not blurt them out in a fit of happiness.
After he regulated his breathing, Az forced himself to stand upright. "I'm fine," he murmured, his eyes on her face. She was looking at him with worry and shock, her arms out to catch him in case he stumbled again. "Are you- do you feel anything?"
Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. "No. Other than worrying about you tearing down my new bookshelf," she said, but there was a teasing smile on her lips.
I guess the bond only snapped for me, Azriel thought to himself. It made sense, of course, but it would make things a lot less complicated if she felt it, too.
It was in that moment that Azriel decided that she needs to see all of him. Where he comes from, his family... his son. If she wanted to be his mate, it would be on her terms, not his.
He ignored the voices plaguing his mind, telling him that this wonderful female would never choose him, especially once she realized the baggage he carried. No, he let himself feel this happiness, the first true happiness he had felt in a long time.
His mate. He had found his mate.
"You know tonight is my last night here," he said, taking a step toward her. "But, maybe we can have more nights together?"
She had been in the process of placing the book on a table, but her hand stopped as she heard his words. "What do you mean?"
Azriel bit his lip as nervousness filled his chest. "I mean I would like to take you to the Night Court. Just for a visit, of course." He smiled at her, feeling awkward for the first time in centuries. "So you can see all of the strange rituals we have there."
For a moment, Az thought she would decline. Her face paled slightly, and her lips tightened. But eventually, a beautiful smile bloomed across her face, like the sun rising at dawn.
"I would like that," she said cheerfully. "I haven't left Day in a while. Are you wanting to leave tonight?"
He thought his heart would beat out of his chest with happiness, but he forced his voice to remain steady. "We could, as long as you have everything in order here with the store."
She placed the book on the table and took his hands in hers. "I can talk to my roommates. They can keep eyes on the place while we're gone. I need a vacation, anyways."
Azriel laughed, the sound deep and joyous. He gestured a hand toward the door. "After you," he said. "I've been wanting to see what those wings look like in flight."
---
Her wings were the most beautiful things he had ever laid his eyes on. Even though it was dark, they shimmered under the moonlight, their color shifting to silver.
They laughed as they flew, and Az was surprised at how well she could keep up with him. She was able to follow his maneuvers expertly, dipping and rolling along with him. He made it a point to ask her who she was trained by later.
The River House was quiet when they landed. His shadows alerted him to the fact that Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Ky, Nesta, and Cassian were all inside, having just finished dinner.
"It seems that everyone is here," he murmured to her, taking her hand in his as he walked up the steps. "This is your last chance to turn back."
She pulled her eyes away from her surroundings long enough to look at him. "After I flew all this way? I don't think so," she said with a giggle.
He pushed the door open, his hand still in hers. He led the way into the small sitting room, the air warm and smelling of citrus and jasmine. His family was all here, seated in chairs around the fire. His eyes roamed the room, looking for Ky, and he found him sleeping in a small basket next to the fire. Nyx was sleeping next to him, the small boy having placed his hand protectively over the babe.
Azriel felt his chest ease at the sight of his son, safe and warm. He wanted to run to him, but he needed to ease his mate into this.
"Az," Rhys greeted, standing up from his chair. "We were wondering if you would be back tonight." He walked toward them, a smile on his face, but that smile faltered a little when he saw the female next to his brother. "And who is this?"
She stepped forward, radiating confidence as she introduced herself. "I'm sorry for intruding on your evening, but Azriel offered to show me around the Night Court. I've always heard lovely things about it."
Azriel met Rhys's violet stare. A stranger in Velaris, Az? Rhys asked into his mind. You were only supposed to go on a routine mission.
Azriel decided it was best not to beat around the bush. She's my mate. She means no harm. She is kind. And nice. And I wanted her to meet all of you.
Rhys nodded slightly. He raised a brow. Everyone?
Azriel glanced over at Ky. Everyone, he responded.
Rhys must have communicated with Feyre, because she gracefully walked over to Ky, sweeping him gently up in her arms. She smiled affectionately at Nyx as she moved over to Azriel. "He's been sleeping well," she whispered. "And eating well. I swear he's gained ten pounds since you were gone."
Azriel could no longer deny his paternal instincts, so he quickly took Ky in his arms, savoring the warmth radiating from his small body. "Did you miss me, little one?" he murmured to him as his shadows swarmed the baby, searching for any sign of distress or harm.
Azriel turned, a smile on his face as he found his mate's face. He expected her to be curious, or shocked, at the sight of a baby in his arms.
But nothing could have prepared him for the look of raw pain on her face as she looked at Azriel and Ky. "Who is that." It wasn't a question. Her voice was hard and tight, and Az swore she was holding back tears.
"This is Ky," he said gently, worry and fear creeping in as he took in her expression. "My son."
She quickly tore her eyes away, searching around the room. They fell on Nyx, who was still sleeping soundly on the floor, and she stepped back as a gasp flew from her lips.
Azriel could sense the unease radiating off Rhys and Feyre, already preparing themselves to defend their family. Cassian and Nesta stood next to each other on the far side of the room, their backs straight, their eyes holding predatory intent.
It was only Azriel, who was still holding Ky, who forced himself to remain calm. "Would- would you like to hold him? He's quite small, but he's so warm and-"
"NO!" she screamed, her body trembling as she stepped backward toward the door. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she covered her face with her hands. "I can't. No. No. No."
Feyre quickly stepped forward, taking Ky out of Azriel's arms. Calm her down. Now, Azriel, she whispered into his mind, but it was the voice of the High Lady.
"Come on," he muttered to his mate, reaching for her arm to pull her outside. "Let's go outside." She didn't fight him as he hauled her through the door and down the steps. The night air was cold, but Azriel didn't feel it.
He could only feel pain, anger, rage, and a hurt like no other. What had he said or done to send her into this kind of panic? Was the thought of him being a father truly so horrible?
Once they were outside, she ripped herself out of his grasp. "I'm going home." Her voice was distant now, devoid of any emotion.
He moved to step in front of her, his eyes pleading. "Please. Let me explain all of this-"
She pushed him out of the way, her wings unfurling as she prepared to take flight. "You're a nice male, Azriel," she said. "I... like you. I do. But you should have told me about this. About him."
Azriel fought the urge to snarl at her tone when speaking about his son. "Is it really that bad that I'm a father?" Though he was angry, his voice came out broken.
She looked at him then, her eyes softening slightly. "No. It's the fact that you don't understand. You could never understand."
"Then tell me! Help me understand!"
She shook her head as she pushed off the ground, his wings catching the air, hauling her up. "Goodbye, Azriel."
Her voice carried on the wind as Azriel watched her take off into the night, taking a piece of his heart with her.
---
1 year later
"Come on, Ky. You can do it!" Azriel encouraged, his hands out to catch Ky. The Velaris sun was blinding, but Az kept his attention on his boy, not daring to miss the sight of him taking his first steps.
Ky was standing on small, wobbly knees, his tiny face scrunched up in determination. He took a small step forward, then another, and another-
"Gods! You're doing it, son!" Azriel exclaimed in happiness.
Ky took one more step before his tiny legs gave out, but Azriel was there to catch him, as he always would be. He swooped him up, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. "I'm glad to know you got that determination from me, at least," he said to Ky.
Ky gave him a toothy smile as he giggled, his attention already captured by Az's shadows as they swarmed him, seeming to offer their own form of praise.
In the last year, Azriel had heard nothing from Elain. He had heard from his spies that she and Lucien had welcomed their own child into the world, a little girl who Azriel had not bothered to learn the name of.
A year ago, he would have been heartbroken beyond repair at the thought of Elain choosing to start a family with another male, even though she already had a family here. But since then, Azriel had taken the time to heal, choosing to let go of any bitterness and anger.
Ky deserved better than having a father who was pissed off at the world, and Az had vowed to himself to be the best father the world had seen. He didn't know what a good father looked like, but he was learning, and he had Rhys and Cass and the rest of his family to help him.
There was one part of his healing that he was struggling with though- his mate. The female who had quite literally flown off into the night at the sight of Ky. Az had not heard from her since that night, so he never got an explanation as to why.
He tried not to hold it against her, hoping that, if they were meant to be together, things would work out in the end.
"Uncle Azriel!" Nyx's voice, though the boy was small, boomed across the lawn. "Want me to take Ky in for his nap?" Nyx was the best cousin to Ky, always making sure the boy was eating and sleeping properly.
Hell, sometimes he was even more on top of things than Azriel was.
"Sure," Azriel said, placing Ky in Nyx's arms. "He just took his first steps. He deserves to rest."
Nyx's eyes widened. "He took his first steps and I missed it?" He blew out a breath. "You should have called for me!"
Azriel chuckled as he ruffled Nyx's black hair. "Sorry, kid. At least you were there for his first word."
In fact, Nyx had been the first word Ky had said. Of course, it had sounded more like "Byx" than anything else, but Nyx had gloated about it for days afterward.
Azriel watched Nyx carry Ky into the house, smiling to himself. It was moments like this that he was thankful for his life. Things had gotten better, so much better. He had a family now, a place where he belonged. A son, a perfect boy who looked just like him-
His thoughts were cut short as he heard soft wing beats from above. Not Illyrian wings, he realized, but something softer, like feathers.
Azriel squinted into the sun, watching small shape grow closer and closer, until the small body of a female landed in front of him.
But it wasn't any female. It was his mate.
"Hello, Azriel," she said, her voice soft. Her face was full of nervousness, and she was biting her lip and wringing her hands. She tucked her wings in tight. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
For a moment, Azriel could only blink at her. She's here. She's really here.
"No. No. Of course not," he blurted out, taking a step toward her. His shadows swarmed her, just as they had when they first met. She smiled down at them, but the smile didn't meet her eyes. "Why are you here? Are you in danger?"
She shook her head, her hair falling around her shoulders. "No. I'm fine. Everything is fine." She went back to biting her lip again as she spoke. "I've been thinking... I think you deserve an explanation of what happened last year. I owe you that. The way I reacted was wrong, and I want to explain."
"You don't owe me anything," Az said, running a hand through his hair. "I should have told you about Ky. It was wrong of me to force him onto you like that."
She smiled again. "No. You did nothing wrong. I don't know your situation, but..." She took a step forward, craning her head up to look at him. "I would like to hear about it now if you want to tell me. I promise not to fly away again."
Despite himself, Azriel laughed. He angled his head over to a small table and chairs Feyre had set up on the east end of the house. "We can talk over there," he said. "Nobody will disturb us."
The two of them walked in silence, the soft wind rustling through the trees. Azriel was nervous, not knowing what to say to carry on an easy conversation. He could feel the unease radiating from his mate, so he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.
“You go first,” she said once they had situated themselves in the chairs. “My story is… well- just go first, Az. Please.” Her voice trembled at the end of her sentence, her eyes watery.
Azriel reached a hand over and laid it atop her own, squeezing gently. He took a deep breath before letting the painful story spill from his lips. He told her of Elain and the short romance that had followed the War. He told her of Ky's birth and the disaster that had followed. He spoke to her of his feelings, the feelings that he had not spoken to anyone, not even his family.
By the end, silent tears were streaming down his face, and he sucked in a breath as she gently reached over and wiped them away, her face full of understanding.
"She just... left?" she asked, her voice full of something like wonder, as if she couldn't understand how a mother could do that to her child. "And you've been raising Ky on your own?"
Azriel nodded once. "Well, mostly on my own. My family has been helping me, but that hasn't made it easy."
She took a deep breath, her eyes on his face. "I am sorry that happened. I don't think I would have survived that, if I were in your position." She paused for a moment, biting her lip.
"You don't have to tell me your story, you know," Azriel said, his tone gentle. "Believe me, I understand that some things are... difficult to discuss."
"I was married once," she said abruptly, her eyes moving to look at the city. "We were so happy together, but we were only missing one thing. A child."
Azriel's heart stuttered inside his chest as she spoke. He forced his face to neutrality, not wanting the warring emotions inside his mind to scare her.
She continued on, her voice vacant, "We tried for years to get pregnant, but it wasn't easy for us. We had so many false positives, and each time it happened, I felt as if a piece of my heart broke. We finally gave up, so we were surprised when I got pregnant a few years later."
"We were happy, so happy... but I had a hard pregnancy. By the third month, I was already placed on strict bedrest, completely forbidden to leave my bed except to relieve myself or get food. The labor was even worse. It took two days for our babe to arrive, but the pain and suffering was worth it to hold him in my arms. To hear his little cries and to feel him wrap his tiny hand around my finger."
Azriel watched silently as her eyes filled with tears, but he was too shocked to move. He had a horrible pit in his stomach, afraid of where this story was going.
"My family lived in peace for a few years. We had such a quiet life, you see, filled with so much love and joy... I never thought of how fast it could all be ripped away..." The tears in her eyes spilled over, coating her cheeks. "There was a male in Day Court. He was a harsh man, but he had always liked me. He was the one who taught me how to fly. He was in love with me, so he got angry when I got married, and even angrier when I had a child. I never thought he would do anything, though. I was so wrong..."
"One night, we were sleeping in our home. The male broke in and pulled my husband and me out of bed. I was so shocked, I was unable to fight, unable to do anything as I watched him go to my son's bedroom. I couldn't do anything as I watched my husband try to fight him off, only to get killed in the process. I was helpless as I listened to my boy's cries grow louder and louder, only to be silenced as he was murdered... Because of me."
She started sobbing uncontrollably, and it was all Az could do to wrap her in his arms, trying his best to shield her from the horrors of her memories.
She was breathless as she continued on, her face pressed against Azriel's chest. "What kind of mother am I? I couldn't even protect my own child when he needed me the most. I couldn't face what I had done, so I ran after that, moving into the capital city. I didn't even bury my son. There's no place I can go to honor his memory... I tried to forget my prior life, not telling anyone what had happened. My roommates don't even know."
She pulled away from him, tipping her face to look up at his. "That's why I ran, why I couldn't look at my friend's child that night. It's too painful for me to see a child. I get bombarded with these memories, and all I can see is my son's face, screaming for me to help him."
She was silent after that, her voice broken. So Azriel held her, trying to find the words. But there were really no words to offer a grieving mother. There was nothing he could say to heal these wounds.
Finally, he asked, "What was his name? Your son?"
She froze for a moment, and Azriel worried he had asked the wrong question. But she said, "Alek was his name. He..." She shook her head. "That night when I saw you with Ky... He reminds me so much of my Alek."
Azriel released a breath. "Thank you for telling me. I can't even begin to imagine what that must feel like," he said quietly. "But I need you to know- nothing could ever take away the love you gave Alek, or the love he had for you. You carry that love with you, and you hold onto it." He hesitated for a moment, moving his hand up to cup her face. "I'm here. For whatever you need- whether that's to talk, or to sit and grieve. Just know you're not alone anymore."
Despite her grave expression, she smiled. "Now you're starting to sound like my mate. I was wondering when the sweet talking would start."
Azriel gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You... you knew?"
She nodded. "The bond snapped for me before I flew off that night. I almost stayed, but I knew I needed time to heal before I could be the mate you deserved. So I left, and I've been working on my healing since then. I am better, but I still have hard days, so I understand if you need more time..."
Azriel cut her off with a quick kiss. "I still have hard days, too. But we can face them together. Nobody needs to deal with their problems alone. We can't let the hard days win."
She smiled, and he felt his chest warm as the life returned to her expression. "I would like that. Together," she agreed.
Azriel took a deep breath. "Would you like to see Ky? You don't have to if it will be difficult, but if you stay here..."
"I would love to," she said quietly, her eyes shining. "I'm alright. I want to meet your son."
Azriel led the way into the quiet River House, thankful that most of his family had left for the day. Once they got to Ky's room, he quietly pushed the door open, knowing he was sleeping.
"It's his nap time," he said. "It's probably best you meet him when he's not screaming his head off."
She smiled at Ky as she walked over to the crib, placing her hand on the rails. She looked up to Az, her face warm. "May I hold him?" Her voice was quiet and filled with awe.
Azriel nodded. "Of course you can, love."
Gently, she raised Ky out of the crib, cradling him to her chest. He didn't stir other than snuggling into her warmth, his small face innocent as he slept. "He looks like you," she said quietly, her eyes roaming Ky's face.
"Thank you," Azriel said proudly, a silly smile on his face.
She gasped softly as Ky wrapped his hand around his finger, his hand so small. He murmured contentedly as he slept, and Azriel realized Ky had never had this. Of course Feyre and Nesta had held him, but he had never had someone hold him with a motherly love.
Azriel's heart warmed at the sight, and he couldn't help himself as he walked over, and wrapped them tightly in his arms.
They stood there in the quiet, and Azriel swore he could hear the sounds of old wounds healing,
---
6 months later
"Where are we going, Az?" she asked, giggling as Azriel pulled her to the outskirts of the city. "There's nothing over here."
He looked back at her, offering her a wink. "That's what you think, angel."
The last six months had been filled with happiness, joy, and healing. They both had hard days, but they had been there for each other every time, honoring their promise to face it together.
Ky was growing faster than Azriel liked. He was walking and talking now, and he was even learning how to eat by himself. Just earlier this morning, Azriel had whined, complaining that his son would no longer need him soon.
She had slapped him gently on the arm. "That's what babies do, Az," she had said, kissing him gently on the cheek. "They grow, yes, but they will always need us."
She had become a mother to Ky, there was really no other way to put it. She would clean him and put him to bed, doing all the things that Azriel himself had struggled to manage with ease. A few weeks ago, Ky had called her "Mama", which caused her to cry with happiness and pain commingled.
The two of them were set to accept their mating bond next week, and Azriel couldn't be happier. They had learned so much about each other, and he had found himself falling more and more in love with this female each day. There was one thing he needed to do, though, which was why he was dragging her to this place.
On the outskirts of Velaris, there was an opening in the trees to a place where many people didn't go. At least, not those who had never experienced the loss of a loved one.
As they walked up the path, he could see the small stones poking out of the ground, their engravings holding the names of the people in the ground.
"Azriel," she said quietly, her hand tight in his, "why did you bring me to a cemetery?"
He smiled softly at her, leading her to a small stone, newer than the others, its engraving easy to read. "I wanted you to see this."
She looked at the stone, her eyes filling with tears as she read the words there.
Alek
"Forever Loved, Never Forgotten"
Though your time was brief, your light will shine in our hearts for all eternity.
In the embrace of the stars, you rest, but in our hearts, you live on.
Azriel watched her face as she read, worrying if he had chosen the right words to put on the headstone. Maybe he should have made it shorter? Was it too much?
He was pulled from his thoughts as she suddenly wrapped her arms around him, throwing her body against his. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said between sobs. "It's perfect, Az."
"I know his body isn't here, but you can come here whenever you like. To remember him," Azriel said as he held her, running his hands through her hair.
She pulled away then, her eyes bright with love. "I can't wait to be your mate," she said, smiling through the tears.
Azriel laughed, his heart full. The wounds of the past would always linger, like shadows that never fade. But with those you love by your side, even the deepest scars could begin to heal, and in their place, hope could grow.
general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria
@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @panther-girl-124
@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#acotar#dee writes#azriel angst#azriel fluff#azriel acotar#azriel fic#acotar fanfic#sjm books
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i have been DREAMING of a silas torture scene!!! i have literally read, re-read, and re-re-read every word you’ve ever written about that man .. you have no IDEA how much I am going to eat up his torture story 🤭🤭 thank you for feeding us!!! <3<3
In the basement
Mafia!yandere OC x reader
Summary: you find yourself in Silas' basement once again and he decides to try a new torture technique — which backfires.
Warnings: torture, violence, mentions of starvation, manipulation burning, boiling water, mentions of cuts, mentions of sawing off people's limbs, ripping out teeth and nails, blood, beating, (let me know if you find more, I have been editing and rewriting so much that I've forgotten what is in the story at this point)
Word count: 3.5k
You lift your head when you can hear footsteps coming towards you. The mumble of Silas men greeting someone is all you need to know who’s here to see you.
“There we have them”, Silas snickers and clicks his tongue amusedly. He’s acting as if he’s talking to a child. “Are we ready to act like a big girl/boy again?”
You glare up at him, where he stands with his hands in his front pockets. If you could, you’d tackle him until he hits his head, but your ankles are chained to the cold floor.
“I fucking hate you”, you mutter coldly.
“Oh, do you now?” he chuckles cockily and grabs your chin firmly, tilting it up to look at him.
Your neck gets strained beyond its limits. Silas is tall and refuses to crouch down to make it easier for you to look up at him.
"Still disobeying?" he asks. "I thought you'd be good by now. I miss you, little thing. I want to have you back in my arms. Who am I supposed to hug at night?"
"Hug a cactus", you spit. "Suits your pleasant personality-"
Silas chuckles and grabs a fistful of your hair. He sinks down in front of you and forces you to look at him. Your eyes widen in fear and your scalp burns at his fingertips. You can feel your heart beat harshly in your chest. Suddenly, you remember why you've been afraid of him before — why his techniques always work. You seem to forget the basement when you've been let out, everything turning into a blur. All you remember is that you do not want to go back. But somehow, you always manage to.
"You don't want me to be nice, do you?" he asks you. "Want me to break that pretty little head until you're bleeding, hm?"
You shake your head quickly. Suddenly, you've figuratively your tongue — and if you're not careful you'll soon literally lose it.
Silas lets go of your hair and stands up. You keep your head down.
“Hm, what should we do to teach you a lesson?” Silas thinks out loud and takes a hold of your hand. “Should we … break some fingers?”
You shake your head quickly and try to take your hand back. Silas holds it tightly and brings out a lighter from his pocket. You panic and try to rip your hand out of his iron grip. Silas traps you against the wall with his knee and elbow keeping you in place. He shifts his bodyweight onto you and traps your arm onto the wall by securing your wrist to the surface. With his other hand, he brings out his lighter. You squirm desperately under him.
“Alright, I’m not going to break your pretty fingers”, he says. “You need them to please me.”
“Please, please, don’t!” you screech and try to kick him. “Silas, don’t!”
He lights it.
“Do you know how my heart feels right now, Y/N?” he asks calmly. “It’s burning. I think it’s only fair for you to feel it too, to understand how hurt I feel.”
He moves the flame to your arm, holding it under your skin. You cry out in pain and apply more force to your wiggling. A stance of burning flesh reaches your nose. Silas holds the flame for a good thirty seconds before removing it. He brushes some soot off of your arm and bends down to kiss it. He moves on to your next arm, then your waist. You finally manage to pull your arms free and push him away. You try to sink down on the floor, but he lifts you up by your shoulders.
“I need you to stand up for me”, Silas says. “Still with me?”
Your face scrunches up in pain. Silas shakes you carefully.
“Still with me, baby?” he asks in a loving voice that doesn’t match his manners.
You nod weakly. Silas smiles slightly and places you back at the wall. Your poor legs are still cuffed and feeling like jelly. Silas chuckles.
He looks over his shoulder as two of his men come in with four buckets of water. You stare at them with wide eyes. This is new.
“You know I can’t hurt you”, Silas says and walks over to the buckets.
“Can’t hurt me?” you repeat in disbelief and show your arms full of cuts and bruises. “You’ve burned me! You’ve cut me!”
“You should see what he does to people he doesn’t like”, one of his men smirks.
“Don’t talk to them”, Silas warns him and grabs the man by his collar. “Or you’ll get to taste what I do to those I don’t like.”
“Yes, sir, sorry, sir.”
Silas lets him go and grabs one of the buckets. He walks back to you where you stand against the wall. You want to sink into it. With your eyes glued onto the bucket, you open your mouth to ask what he’s going to do but you don’t have time to do so before he throws it at you. You hide your face with your arms and scream. Boiling hot water crashes against your body. Your dirty clothes stick onto you and quickly grow cold. You breathe heavily and look at Silas in shock and pain. He has already turned around to get the next bucket. Suddenly, everything’s ice cold and you scream again. Somehow, it’s worse this time. The quick temperature change feels like sharp needles penetrating your skin. You’re sure that Silas’ men upstairs can hear you by now.
You shake your head in desperation as you see Silas pick up the next bucket.
“Silas, please-”, you cry out.
“You caused this yourself, Y/N”, Silas reminds you. “You have one simple rule: do not leave me. And what did you do?”
You stay quiet. He throws the next buckets full of water. Scorching hot. You scream even louder and start to sob.
“What did you do?” Silas asks testingly and walks over to the last bucket.
“I-I tried to run away!” you cry out and hug your shaking body.
“And?”
He picks up the next bucket.
“I talked to a cop!” you sob and press yourself closer to the cement wall. “I’m sorry, I’ll never do that again! Please don’t hurt me anymore! Please, Silas, I-I’ll do anything!”
Silas scoffs. “You wanted to leave me, get me in trouble and destroy everything I’ve built up these last ten years! And I’m just supposed to … forgive you?”
You sob. You know how proud Silas is of his imperium. He's spent the last ten years building it to become the most fearless and powerful criminal in the country. You just wanted him to feel as helpless as you do.
Silas throws the last bucket at you and an icy waterfall greets you. One last scream leaves your panicked body. You sink down in a curled up ball as you hug your body, trying to keep some kind of warmth and shield. You sob and whimper with your head full of fear and nerve system confused. Silas throws the plastic bucket to the side and walks over to you. He sinks down in front of your body and grabs your chin between his index finger and thumb, like he did before.
“What do I need to do to make you obedient?” he asks. “Do I need to kill everyone to make you stay with me?”
“Please …”, you plead through hammering teeth. “Please don’t, please-”
He hushes and cups your cold, wet cheeks.
“You only need me anyway”, he says softly. “All those other people — your family, your friends — they don’t care about you like I do, do they? They just pretend to spare your feelings. Have they even tried to find you? Or help you? They’re probably going on with their lives the same, as if nothing has changed, in this precise moment.”
“You don’t know that”, you whisper and sniffle.
“I do know. I have been watching them.” Silas moves closer to you. “If they really cared about you, they’d tell you when you did something wrong, and then help you fix it. That's what families do, they help you become a better version of yourself. They wouldn’t lie and let you destroy and embarrass yourself. The reason I put you down here, Y/N, is because you're my family, someone I care very much about. I have to teach you a lesson to make sure that you don’t do anything dumb. You’re a danger to yourself. You need me to take care of you, to teach you what is right and wrong.” He caresses your cheeks. “If only you didn’t do such stupid things I wouldn’t have to do these hurtful things. You know I love you.”
You sob and look down.
"Say it back, Y/N", he urges you. "Say that you love me."
"I … I love you", you mumble.
"Good girl/boy."
Silas warm lips presses a hard kiss to your forehead before standing up. You sit frozen while he walks up the stairs.
Silas leaves you alone for another twenty four hours before he walks down again, to see if you’ve broken yet. If you haven’t, he’s going to take your clothes and carve in his name in your leg to force you to see his name every time you open your eyes. He sees you curled up in a ball in the corner of the dark, cold basement. You’re not moving.
“Are you sleeping, baby?” he smirks. “Rise and shine, we have work to do! We’re not done yet.”
You don’t move. You must be weak from hunger.
“If you act well today, I might get you something to eat”, he smiles and walks over to you. “Would you like that?”
He’s much, much nicer to you than to the other people who have the displeasure of ending up in his basement. He would never talk to them as sweetly as he does to you, never negotiate with them like this. He would never change his torture methods to be nicer to anyone else but you.
“Y/N.”
You don’t give him any attention. Silas rolls his eyes and grabs your hair to turn your face to him. You moan out a weak painful sound. Something’s wrong, Silas can tell that. He sinks down in front of you and presses his hand to your forehead.
Shit.
Silas can feel how his heart skips a beat. He should have realized that you would have gotten sick if he left you in this cold basement in your ice cold, soaked clothes and hair. He gulps and cups your cheeks.
“Are you awake?” he asks quickly. “Baby, look at me.”
You open your eyes slowly and look at him with dull, glossy eyes. Silas looks over his shoulder, towards the stairs.
“Get me the keys to the cuffs!” he roars.
He turns back to you and hastily brushes the hair out of your face.
“Hold out, darling”, he says softly. “You’ll be taken care of as soon as I get the key.”
You cough out a weak sound that seem to come from deep inside of you. Silas helps you by patting your back.
A woman comes down and gives Silas’ his keys. He hurries to uncuff your ankles and pick your warm, limp body up in his arms. He hurries up the basement stairs and then up the next stairs to your bedroom. He takes your cold clothes off of you and gives you new, dry ones. His sweatpants, his t-shirt. You black out right away. He takes the time to take care of your older cuts and your newer burns before tucking you in bed. Silas watches you with a burning gaze. He clenches his jaw before walking out of the room. His second in command stands downstairs.
"You", he says angrily.
"Yes, boss?" he asks and looks up from his phone. "What can I help you with?"
"Go up to the bedroom and watch over Y/N. I don't want them to be alone."
"Sure, but what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to work a bit. I need to get my mind on other things."
"I will watch them for you."
"Thank you." He grabs his shoulder. "You know the rules. Recite them."
"I will not talk to them if not necessary. I will not answer any questions and I will not touch them if not necessary. I will let you know right away if something is wrong.”
Silas nods and walks away. He walks into his office and sits down behind his desk. Although he tries to concentrate on paperwork, anger is boiling through his veins. He doesn’t know what he’s angry at — himself, you or his men. Himself for forgetting that you could get extremely sick, his men for not warning him … or you for getting out of your punishment before he had gotten to the point he wanted. He tells himself that this sudden sickness is a part of your punishment, but it doesn’t help his racing heart.
Silas pours himself a glass of brandy, in hopes to calm his nerves. The liquid burns down his throat and warms up his body, but it doesn’t help. Before he can stop himself, he throws the glass as hard as he can against the wall. It shatters into a million pieces. The door opens quickly.
“Boss, what’s wrong?” one of his men asks.
“Get me someone I can mangle or else I’ll go insane”, Silas breathes out through gritted teeth. “Take someone from the street if you have to — just bring me someone I can kill.”
You open your eyes and feel how a lump has grown in your throat. You try to cough and rip your entire vocal chords with it. A cough attack erupts from deep inside your stomach. Every cough hurts worse than the one before and every breath in feels as dry as an ocean.
“Oh, careful”, a voice says and helps you sit up. He holds a glass of water to your lips. “Drink up.”
You recognize the man beside you. Silas’ second in command? Where’s Silas?
“You’re awake”, he states and stands up from his chair after putting down the glass. “I’ll go get the boss-”
You panic and shake your head.
“Please stay.” You’re caught by surprise that your voice comes out as nasally and thick as it does, although it shouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. “Don’t get him.”
“I have rules to follow.”
“I have to ask you something first.”
The second in command sighs and turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. He looks tired, but you can’t let him leave until you’ve had your question answered.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m not allowed to answer your questions”, he says.
“I really need an answer”, you plead.
“Silas will answer-”
“I don’t want his answer. He’ll lie to me. Please.”
He sighs and turns to you with his arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Let me hear the question first.”
“What do Silas do to the people he doesn’t like?”
Silas runs his hand through his sweaty hair. The man in front of him cries out. Silas has continued to throw punch after punch, using this strange man as a boxing doll. His fists are sore and bloody. Sweat drips down his back. The man in front of him has gotten his teeth pulled out with pliers, his hair has gotten cut down to his bleeding roots and nails have been ripped off. Silas had forgotten to gag him at first but the second the first loud scream exited the man's body, all he could see in front of him was your terrified eyes waking up to it.
"Boss, Y/N’s awake", a voice behind him says. Second in command.
"Fuck, I'm all bloody", Silas mutters and looks down at his black jeans and shirt that he's pulled the sleeves up on. "I can’t go up like this. Get me a washcloth."
The second in command drowns a cloth in a bucket of water. Silas uses it to scrub his arms, neck and face while walking up to you. When he opens the door, he finds you sitting up in bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.
"Hi, baby, how are you feeling?" he asks and sits down on the side of the bed.
Your eyes scan hum warily, stopping at his arms. Traces of blood can still be visible in the hair strands. Silas pulls down his sleeves.
"Don't worry about that", he says with an embarrassed smile. "How are you feeling, darling?"
"It hurts."
Silas reaches out to caress your cheek, but you flinch away. He frowns.
"I'm not going to hurt you anymore", he says carefully.
“Why are you bloody?” you whisper. “What have you done?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Why do you have to like me? Why do I have to go through this?”
You start to ramble for yourself and Silas hushes loudly.
“You’re not making any sense, little thing”, he says. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”
“Why do you do those things to people?” you almost hyperventilate before starting to cough.
Tears flow down your cheeks. You’re absolutely hysteric. Silas freezes. You know something.
“Why do I do what?” he asks quickly, grabbing your shoulders tightly. “Did someone tell you anything? What did they say?”
You sob and shake your head.
“Y/N, if you don’t tell me what someone has put in your head-”, Silas says sternly.
“You saw off people’s limbs!” you sob. “You … y-you-”
“Y/N, enough. Who told you?”
You don’t answer. Another cough attack erupts. Silas starts to get annoyed.
“Y/N, who told you?” he asks through gritted teeth. “If you’re trying to hide someone, I’m throwing you back into the basement right away, with a fever or not.”
You sigh and glance up at him in pure fear. “Your second in command …”
“That motherfucker-”
Silas lets go off your shoulders and fly up from the bed. He can’t help but feel a deep ache in his heart. His second in command has been with him since he started his ‘organization’ — he’s been with him through thick and thin, had his back through everything. Him, out of anyone, knows the rules better. Silas trusts him to keep an eye on you alone, knowing that he would never betray him … or at least believing that.
He grabs his second in command and throws him against the wall.
“Traitor!” Silas growls. “You told them?!”
“They said that they had to know!” the second in command answered loudly, defending himself. “They wanted to know if you really love them! They wanted to know if you really were softer on them than others! They thought you’d lie if they asked you! I did you a fucking favour!”
They meet eyes for a few seconds before Silas curses and lets him go. He backs away, running his hand through his black hair.
“Silas, I didn’t do anything to betray you”, the second in command says calmly. “I answered Y/N’s question in your favor. If I didn’t, they’d be even more wary of you.”
Silas doesn’t answer. His head and his heart are battling.
He notices how you’re sitting at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing, coughing into your arm. You’ve dragged yourself out of bed to stop him, but you couldn’t get far enough before your weak, aching body betrayed you.
“Y/N, what are you doing out of bed?!” Silas says sternly. “You need to rest!”
He runs up the stairs and picks you up. You’re tucked in again.
“If you leave the bed again, I’ll have to cuff you”, he says carefully. “I don’t want you running around — especially when you’re sick.”
You’re very familiar with the chains that he uses to keep you in bed. Silas climbs sinto bed and sits on top of your legs to make sure you stay in place.
“Y/N, Y/N, listen to me”, he says and cups your cheeks. “I could never do those things to you. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
“You hurt me”, you remind him through sobs. “Even if it wasn’t as bad as you do to others, you still hurt me!”
“You know I don’t want to, but I have to. I have to make sure you don’t do stupid things like this — asking my men about my work. You know better than this and I know that. That’s why I’m helping you get back on the right track. If I don’t, you become like this, all frantic and scared. Why don’t you just let me protect you? Aren’t you tired of getting your heart in trouble? I know you are, baby …”
You sob which to him seems to be all the answers he needs.
“Trust me”, Silas says. “Trust that I know what’s best for you and you will never have to feel this kind of pain and fear again, okay?”
You can feel how your body starts to relax against your will. Silas wipes your tears and kisses your forehead.
“My pretty, little baby”, he whispers comfortingly. “Everything will be okay. As long as I'm here, nothing will ever happen to you. I'll make sure of it, I'll help you.”
You sob and close your eyes. Once again, he wins.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere mafia#yandere fics#yandere stories#yandere oc x reader#yandere male#yandere oc
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Diego Hargreeves - Patches
Pairing : Diego Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 1.2k Warning : None. Notes : This might be the introduction of a story I'm working on. I cannot guarantee that I'll have the commitment to continue until it's end so don't have too much hope for this. I am open if you have any The Umbrella Academy requests at the moment, so do hit me up! If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
He got eight of them.
For the longest time in her life, she’s never understood the silly yet cruel joke life cursed upon her. To be able to heal everyone but herself, no matter the wound or injury one might have, she’ll cure it in no time, so long as it wasn’t inflicted on her.
Once, it wasn’t this pathetic nor lonely. She had her brothers and sisters to weather to storm through. There were Pogo and Mum to share cookies and stories with. It’s been years since she felt such comfort and to have to drag her feet back to the house that had turned itself from a warm home into a prison before the last days of her departure is surely weighing on her heart.
“Welcome home, dear.”
Her heart was filled with warmth once the familiar motherly voice greets her. The corners of her lips curved into a big smile as she dropped her bags, running to the dearly missed figure, “Mum.”
It took the bot a couple seconds to return the embrace. No doubt that she’s been lacking a lot of upgrades ever since she left. When the two broke the hug, she stared at the ageless caregiver with fulfilled eyes as it stared back at her with its bright smile, blank and not blinking. This might have been the most home she could feel while she’s here.
“You’re not supposed to come,” another voice echoes from the stairs.
“Diego, that’s not very nice.” Mum scolded lightly “Your sister has returned to us.”
The boy showed a thin smile to the bot, patting her lightly on the shoulder, “I think Pogo was looking for you, Mum.”
With a slight nod, the android excused herself out of the room.
Now if Grace’s presence lightened her heart, the sight of this black suited man certainly plummets it.
“You look awful,” She greets, noticing the scars that litter his face “Surely couldn’t find a better nurse than me now, can you?”
“Please,” Diego snorted “You’re more of a deadweight than a nurse, if ever.”
Ouch.
She lets out an exasperated exhale, folding her hands in front of her chest in defence, “Well, I’m not here for you and I don’t take joy either on coming back to this circus, so if you could just get yourself off that non-existent high horse—”
Before she could finish her words, Diego had already walked away as if she wasn’t there to begin with. His back becomes the abundant evidence that whatever bad blood they had years ago is still staining his skin.
It wasn’t always like this, him and her. In fact, they were the inseparable two growing up. If Luther had Allison, Diego had her. The many times she healed his wounds had led them to grow closer as the years went by. He was the one with the most injury to heal, after all. The most careless in battle out of the eight, never backing down from a close combat. Though he would always come out triumphant, a little cut here and there would be something he never escaped from.
“Don’t mind him, he’s giving us all the sour comments,” Allison said as she linked her arms to her “I’m glad to see you.”
She smiles at her sister, squeezing her hand slightly in reassurance, “As I am to see you.”
—-
“You should really learn how to dodge a punch, Diego,” She says as she runs her thumb through his bruise “One of these days you’re going to go home and I may not be able to heal you.”
“Is that a loss on your part or my part?”
Her eyebrow rose, purposely pressing on his bruise without healing it that he winces a little, “Or maybe I just won’t heal you, that’s definitely a loss on your part.”
“As if you’ll ever do that.”
“Is that a challenge?”
Diego tries his best to bite the grin but it proved to be an even harder task than to back out of a fight. He stares at her fondly, finding the jitters in his stomach to amplify the longer he stares yet it feels impossible for him to break the contact. Perhaps she casts a little of her magic everytime she heals him.
“Don’t stare at me like that.”
“Like what?” He asks.
“Like Klaus stares at a bottle of gin,” She says, now examining his other cuts “Like I stare at Mum’s cookies.”
Diego smiles.
“Like Luther stares at Allison.”
“Would it be so bad if I stare that way?”
The wake from the unintended nap hurts her head. Her bed is much smaller than she last remembered with her feet slightly dangling on the edge and how the pillows have certainly lost their fluffiness. Everything in her room stays the same yet at the same time, everything has changed.
—-
Diego defeatedly threw himself to the sofa. He sighs, his knuckles cracking as he tries to ball his fists. The tidal wave of emotions were beating him black and blue in silence. It feels as if he was swallowed by a giant blackhole with no light nor guidance to get out of.
There was no need for him to be rude to her, he knew that. He didn’t want to do it, but seeing her back in their house, hugging and talking to Grace, hurts. It took him years to try and ignore the ghost of her. She was the one force that would fuel his mornings and ease him to sleep at night. She was the one soul that he would always go to seek refuge. She was the one that he would lay his life on the line for without a second of doubt.
But he had to lose it all after one stupid night.
A night that he would never be able to grow out of, both from the horror and the guilt. Diego shut himself out for days following that terrifying night, locking his doors and skipping meals as he tries to think of all the what-if scenarios.
What if he stayed home that night?
What if he forced her to stay home that night?
What if he saved her before she saved him?
What if?
Mindlessly, he reaches for a knife on his left chest. It was a stranger to the rest of his knives collection. Compared to the polished lightweight knives he tucked in his suit, this one butter knife was rather dull. It would serve no harm to anyone, yet he kept it closest to his heart as if it was his most prized possession.
Diego stared at the knife. His brows knitted, examining the item as if it held the answer to all of his questions. Or perhaps some guidance. Anything to help him keep his sanity and not lose the plot now that she’s back in his life. Was she staying or was she leaving for the night? He wasn’t sure. But even if she is leaving, the hours he’d have to spend with her would suffocate nonetheless.
His thumb traces the engraving on the knife’s handle. A little trace of an infinite loop that had somehow become his stress outlet: the number eight.
#diego hargreeves#diego hargreeves x reader#diego hargreeves x you#diego hargreeves x oc#luther hargreeves x reader#klaus hargreeves x reader#ben hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x reader#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy scenario#the umbrella academy scenarios#the umbrella academy fluff#the umbrella academy angst#diego hargreeves angst#diego hargreeves fluff
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🪓୨୧ — THE MONSTER AND ME . . . ♡
synopsis. scenarios of seventeen and their monster!s/o
genre. fluff, established relationship, horror (ish) prns. they/them cw. NOT PROOF-READ, gore (duh), death, being murdered (decapitation, fire), the ring movie reference, I PERCHANCE HAVE APPROPRIATED WITCHCRAFT IM SO SORRY TO ANY WHO PRACTICE, pet names (sweetheart), toxic relationships, cheating, allusions to suicide, GROSS!!!! in a sappy way
an. happy (belated) halloween!! I COULDNT COMPLETE THIS SMH CUS I HAD MEETINGS FOR A WHOLE WEEK
THE VAMPIRE. ⸺ seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, seungkwan, chan
he thinks it's cute; your love of fashion. how every outfit you manage to coordinate is always so emblematic of your personality and the long life you have led.
"where's this one from?" he asks, gingerly twiddling the cool metal of the necklace dripping just below your chest. he could pretend all he wanted, but 400 years of living didn't fail you when it came to hearing the surge of blood pumping through his heart. and it certainly didn't help that he was slightly blushing. it makes you happy to know that even after three years of living together, you still had that impact on him.
"this one's from 1894!" you moved closer to him, wanting to feel his warm skin against your cold flesh. "long story short this random guy who stole from the nearby village came to my cabin to hide but i kinda-sorta-maybe decapitated him!!"
"that's nice sweetheart WAIT WHAT"
he also thinks it's cute how desperate you are for cuddles. he is more than aware that you love the sound of blood flowing and how much you love being pressed into him, because it meant you could hear it up close. he knows it has nothing to do with you viewing him as your next meal, but the reassurance that he was still alive. he was not gone yet, like all the others in your life. he knows you would never dare to go as far as graze your teeth against his skin. although... he wishes you would. what? he goes crazy for your teeth poking out every single time you smile. why else do you think he puts so much effort into being funny?
the most cute thing about you though? when you pout over pictures. what's the point of mirrors and phones if you can't see if you look good or not? if you can't record the most precious moments of your long life? how are you supposed to know if purple is your colour? but he simply laughs when he hears your complaints, kissing you deeply and telling you "you are everything i could ever have wished for."
THE GHOST. ⸺ jun, wonwoo, minghao, vernon
he knew something was wrong with his house the day he moved in. when the wires were still intact, the TV kept switching from his desired great british bake-off to the deluded brain-rotted show that was dance moms. what? can you blame a guy for wanting to see what they had in store for patisserie week? it only got worse from then on. he knew he had reached the boiling point when he had left for groceries, only for the magnets to be arranged ever so crudely.
TV
sorry, but he didn't have the budget to buy more magnets. in this economy too? whatever, maybe mindlessly scrolling through netflix would give him purpose. as he settled himself into his couch once more, he noticed another set of eyes. big, doe-like eyes, but haunting. his imagination, right?
another click, and he noticed an elbow tear through the screen, slightly distorting the actor's face. he wished he had the strength to get up from his seat, but something about you was pinning him there. you were like a predator staking out its prey, the way you focussed on him. but good lord you were hotter than anybody else alive. maybe everybody else unalive too. he knows now that he doesn't regret sitting there. legs began unravelling themselves as you slithered out the TV screen, crawling on all fours. you stood up as you unfurled your hand towards his chest, he braced himself, hands digging deep into the sofa. his eyes still remained trained on you. was it right to think you are attractive?
"chill out, i'm a ghost." you smoothly responded, trying to hide your smirk from the startled man sitting in front of you. "although... you don't seem too scared of me. what are you? are you also a ghost?" you mused, floating just enough to try and touch his hair. it looks so soft, you mused to yourself. when's the last time you played with somebody's hair again? he yelped a little, shutting his eyes for what was about to happen. to your disappointment, your hand went right through his head.
"so you're the one messing around with my TV- putting on all those trashy 2000s reality shows." he huffed, brushing himself off. weird. you put your hand threw his head but he doesn't feel anything.
"guilty as charged." you sighed, spinning around mid-air. you swirled around the man, fascinated by the newest tenant. "can you blame me for being nostalgic?" you explained how you had moved into this house with your then-boyfriend. things began to go sour and you never knew why. all you knew was that every single time he came home angry and slamming the door behind him, you knew it was time to turn on the TV and melt the world around you. soon enough you realized he was cheating on you, and when you confronted him about it, push came to shove. your last memories were the TV engulfed in flames, and you choking on smoke as the door quietly closed itself. "i used my ghost skills of manipulating electric currents for the first time by turning on the news and realizing that the police ruled my death as a suicide."
you have both developed a symbiotic relationship. he would let you watch your TV shows and re-introduce you to the joys of the mortal world, like reading books and making soup. he didn't banish you from your house, but looked after your every need (its shocking how many things ghosts need), and for the first time, loved.
as a ghost, you could touch whatever was important to you when you were alive. the TV, fruit tarts, and the magnets you would hang your to-do lists on. weirdly enough, you could touch your new roommate. "maybe i'm becoming super important to you." he teased. "would that make you feel weird?" you remarked, as you entwined your fingers among his. "no at all." he hummed, enjoying the way you traced the warm skin of his palm. peering up to look at him, you eagerly asked. "am i important to you, then?"
more than you could ever know.
THE WITCH. ⸺ jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon
as a witch, the burning of incense and candles were familiar spells, intended to expel bad energy. but right now, you need more than to expel bad energy. you needed a guarantee from the universe that the life you lead now would be like this forever. being a witch was isolating, devoting time to a continuous cycle of researching and perfecting non-stop. like being a phd candidate, only minus the glory of being called "doctor." normally, witches have familiars, or "animal friends" as disney would like to call them that substitute the regular human's need for friends. but you didn't have one of those either. it was why it was such a blessing when he had entered your life by accident. all you remember is him asking for your number and the next thing you know you spent your days lounging in his studio apartment, with the coffee table scattered with copies of old esoteric spells from a bygone time.
as you heard the apartment entrance creak open, you knew your beloved was back. likewise, he knew you were doing well. the smell of cinnamon burning was comforting to him because it meant you were at your best condition and continuously experimenting with new spells. it was your way of saying "i've been thinking about you." that you spent hours concocting the best spells to guarantee your and his eternal happiness. it was an absured thought to him, for you to be slaving away when you already had what you wanted.
"i'm sure you don't need to worry, we're just fine without magic." he remarked, flopped onto the couch. he gazed into the kitchen, noticing you submerging a piece of paper in a bottle of water.
"have you ever thought that magic is what's keeping us together? and you're taking it for granted?"
"touche. but i still think-"
you could argue his spells were just as effective too, and that maybe he was a better witch than you could ever be. the way he brews your coffee just right in the morning, like an effective energy potion singing through you and keeping you awake. maybe that coffee also contains a love spell in it, because it makes you think about him non-stop. after all, the only reasonable explanation for the blooming feeling your chest had to be magic. "when will he come home?" "he's gonna be so excited when he figures out i made his favourite!" all those dumb, sappy, romantic thoughts plagued your mind. it's humiliating, but... maybe love is a force that not even the greatest of witches can control. wait- why did you catch him looking at your spells? did he take a peek at your notes?
@noircheols DO NOT RE-POST/COPY/TRANSLATE
#(not so good) writing#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seungcheol x reader#jeonghan x reader#joshua x reader#jun x reader#hoshi x reader#wonwoo x reader#woozi x reader#dokyeom x reader#mingyu x reader#minghao x reader#vernon x reader#seungkwan x reader#dino x reader#seventeen scenarios#svt x reader#svt imagine
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STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR
PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader
CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!!
WORD COUNT. 5,332
SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?
SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :>
“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow.
It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared.
As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”
He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion.
“Beautiful.”
You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”
“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”
You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors.
“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”
“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”
Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face.
You pouted. “Hey!”
“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”
“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”
“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”
“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.”
“And mine, yours.”
Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s.
Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity.
You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs.
No, that was nothing.
Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his.
He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.
That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that.
Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having.
Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through.
Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him.
But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again.
The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day.
He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”
You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course.
Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up.
If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away.
“Y/N…”
You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”
Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?”
“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.”
He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”
“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars.
Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.
“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly.
Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”
“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?”
You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”
“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”
Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you?
You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody.
And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself.
And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free.
It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng.
And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of.
This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.
Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.
He knew what he had to do.
Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Where are they?”
Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning?
Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.
“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”
“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”
With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time.
“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”
Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself.
His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”
Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.”
“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.”
He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do?
He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.
The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined.
It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation.
You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future.
Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.
Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life.
Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.
He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters.
Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul.
“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.”
You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.
“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.
“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.”
You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.”
Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.”
“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased.
You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.
“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?”
He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”
At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.
“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.”
“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.”
He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”
You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin.
“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments.
While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions.
He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him.
“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”
Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant.
You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”
He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you.
“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”
You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”
He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing.
“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”
“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”
You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”
“From my dreams.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless.
“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”
With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”
You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”
“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”
“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”
Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.
“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”
He tilted his head to the side.
“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?”
“You sound ridiculous.”
His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth.
“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”
Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body.
“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”
“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”
His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”
You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself.
Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever?
After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.”
He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him.
“Thank you,” he breathed.
With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison.
“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”
Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”
“I understand.”
You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly.
“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response.
“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.”
You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”
Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.”
The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person.
“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”
Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.”
Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”
You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”
At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket.
“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.”
He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest.
“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”
It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you.
Instead, it was a white peony.
You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white.
#honkai star rail x reader#dan heng x reader#dan feng x reader#hsr x reader#hsr#honkai star rail#dan heng#dan feng#hsr fanfiction#hsr imagines#dan heng imagines#dan heng x you#dan heng x y/n#hsr x y/n#hsr x you
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You’re walking down a long quiet road. It’s winter, snow covers the ground, the sky fades gray. All around you are trees that have long since dropped their leaves, cold and dead, waiting for spring. You stop beneath one, eye caught by a striking sight. Amid the bare branches you see a round bundle of stunning green leaves. Hanging down above you are dozens of beautiful little pearly white berries. The fruit tempts you, but you don’t dare touch. Instead you simply admire them. Life among the dead of winter. Mistletoe.
@slocotion Hi, here is my design for slocotion's patreon dyo doll contest. Her name is Haustoria of the Pale. I was very excited to put this together once it struck me. I thought of all my favorite fruits I could have used but then inspiration hit me as I was considering less common fruits and fungi. Mistletoe is used medicinally by some but the entire plant, including its cute white berries, is toxic. Since this is a longer post, I’ll include more notes on my design under a cut but to point out the most important thing, I’ve combined the nature of the toxic berries with some historical+mythological inspiration that I think echoes it nicely.
In Norse mythology, a well known story is that of the death of Baldr. Baldr was the most loved god of the Aesir, so when a vision of his death reached his parents Odin and Frigga, they did all they could to protect him. Frigga sent her servants all over the world to make every creature and thing vow to never harm a hair on Baldr’s head. All but mistletoe promised, too insignificant or too young to make the vow. After it was done, Bladr seemed invincible. Since nothing was willing to hurt him, the gods would sometimes gather around and throw things at him, watching everything bounce off without injuring him. Loki, jealous of the love and affection that was always paid to Baldr, came up with a plan to get rid of him. He had an arrow made of mistletoe and brought it to Baldr’s blind brother Hodr. He gave it to him to throw at Baldr as all the gods pelted him with objects and weapons. Hodr threw the arrow and, since mistletoe had never promised not to harm him, it pierced his chest, killing him instantly... And so Baldr was delivered to the depths of the land of the dead, looked over by Hel.
specific design notes under the cut thank you for looking!
Mistletoe is a very interesting plant to me. It’s not a tree or vine or bush, but instead its an evergreen parasite. The sticky seeds attach themselves to the branches and grow into it with a haustorium, which is a structure that lets them sap nutrients from the host plant. Haustoria’s name is a reference to this structure. “of the Pale” is a reference to not only the color of the berries but the pale gray and white landscape of winter.
Mistletoe berries are heavily toxic but also exist in winter, when other plants may be barren and “dead.” Because of that and their parasitic nature I see them as a sweet little balance of life and death. In addition to that, I use the split colors of the face/mask of Haustoria to reference the goddess of the land of the dead, Hel, who is described as having a body that is half black as death, split down the middle.
The structure of the outfit is inspired by Scandinavian and specifically Norwegian folk dresses, since I’m borrowing old Norse history for more inspiration, it seemed fitting. I also felt the style would be good to accompany the botanical and berry designs attractively.
The twin peaked hood is to further split the design down the middle, with little charms to show life and death.
I included white beads all over the outfit to represent the mistletoe berries themselves so they could stand out.
The dark side of her face is adorned with thorns and has three mournful black tears leaking down from her eye, as well as a hollow half of the center heart.
The light side is blushed and lively with shiny eyes, leaves shaped like the mistletoe leaves, red petals like the mistletoe blooms, three white dots to be the mistletoe fruit, and the center heart is full.
Her cape is white on the inside to represent the white of the berries and also the white of snow.
To cap it off, I do believe mistletoe is fitting for a plague doctor as they are still used medicinally to this day. :)
Thank you for reading everything and looking at my design! I’m very proud of her and I hope she doesn’t stretch the theme. And definitely more than anything else I hope you enjoy looking at her!
#I hope you like her#I suddenly was struck with a vision of this design so I had to drop everything to work on her for a few days#sorry for the long post though I had a lot of thoughts#<3333#good luck to all the entrants I have been having fun looking at the other cute designs#I take immense interest in both botany and Norse mythology#kleptodoesart
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It's Only Forever
It has been an absolute joy to write this big bang fic over the last few months, and I'm SO excited to finally get to share it with the world! I could not have done it without my amazing beta @penny00dreadful, always going above and beyond the call of duty to cheer me on, and help make this story the best it could be. Thanks as well to @hitlikehammers, and of course my official unofficial cheerleader @pearynice!
Featuring art in this chapter also by @penny00dreadful!
[Penny Art Link] and @/SissayeRys [Art Post Link]
R: Mature | WC: 4427 | | Ch 1/8 | Read on AO3
Chapter 1: As The World Falls Down
Steve was running late getting home.
Literally running, because his last ever basketball practice had gone long with everyone wanting to say goodbye to the departing seniors, and he was supposed to be home an hour ago to babysit his little brother.
Not that anyone asked if he wanted to watch the stupid nerd, It’d just come to be expected of him. He'd run into a bit of a dry spell lately as far as dating went, and grown tired of playing third wheel to Tommy and Carol, but after one too many Friday and Saturday nights spent at home, his Mom and Gary seemed to have decided he was now at their disposal every weekend to watch Dustin while they went out for their fancy dinner parties.
Which he wasn’t bitter about, or anything.
It’d been overcast all afternoon, the smell in the air all but promising rain, and just as he was cutting through the last backyard with his own house coming into view, the sky opened up, soaking through him to the bone in seconds.
“You’re late.” His mother said, scowling from the top of the porch steps with her arms crossed over her chest. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
“Sorry,” Steve grumbled. He’d forgotten to plug in his phone last night and its battery had died by fourth period. “It’s not my fault. Practice–”
“Well don’t stand out there in the rain, you’ll drip all over my nice clean floors.” She cut off his explanation, turning on her heel and striding into the house.
It was a little late for that. Water was already running from his sopping shorts down his legs, but Steve still rushed along behind her, kicking his mud-coated sneakers off by the door to try and minimize the damage.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Steven. Your stepfather and I go out very rarely–”
Lie.
Steve rolled his eyes at her back as she turned to grab her handbag off the foyer table.
“–And you know I only expect you to babysit when it won’t interfere with your own plans.”
“Like you care about my plans,” Steve mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
She looked him up and down, wrinkling her nose as she adjusted the purse resting on her shoulder. “Go take a shower and check on your brother. He's in his room. Gary left some cash on the kitchen table so you boys can order a pizza for dinner. We should be back around midnight.”
Steve nodded curtly and turned to head up the stairs, but paused, looking back over his shoulder when she called to him again.
“Oh, and Steven?”
He managed to hold in his sigh, but only just.
“Yes, mother?”
“Don’t indulge him too much about that fantasy game, whatever it’s called. He’ll never live up to his potential with his head stuck in the clouds like that.”
No problem there.
Steve had no interest in Dustin’s Dungeons and Dorks game anyway.
Again, he simply nodded, and this time watched her leave, waiting until the front door closed behind her before taking the steps up to his room.
As much as he loathed babysitting, it was infinitely better than being dragged along as a show and tell object, like he’d been in the past. A pretty trophy to prove that divorce or not, she was still the perfect mother. Look, I raised the co-captain of the swim team! The captain of the basketball team! He’s sure to get into an elite university one day, just you wait and see!
And sure, it was a lot, but she just wanted what was best for him, right? Even if it was a little… suffocating at times.
But, in the end Steve hadn’t done that—had he? Nope! Here he was, set to graduate high school in just a few short weeks, and had gotten exactly zero acceptance letters.
A “gap year”, they called it. He was taking a gap year to discover himself, to travel. That was the lie his mom and Gary would tell their friends when asked which Ivy League school their eldest son would be attending in the fall.
It was kinder than the truth, that his GPA and test scores were no match for the candidates he was up against, no after how hard he’d studied, that he hadn’t caught the eye of even one athletics recruiter.
He was good, but he wasn’t the best—in anything.
He couldn’t even attend the local community college with Tommy and Carol to fill his time. The deadline to apply had come and gone, with his mom and step-dad staunchly refusing to let him submit the paperwork. No son of theirs would lower himself to attending the public school equivalent of higher education.
It left Steve in a rough spot. His chances at getting into what his parents considered a good school wouldn’t be any better in a year's time, and amidst his failure he felt like he’d been written off, his mom and Gary now focusing all their efforts on their youngest son, the one who still had the chance at a proper future.
As much as it pained Steve to admit, he actually liked the kid, loved him even, but he couldn't help feeling a little jealous about the fact that Dustin still had time. He had his whole adolescence ahead of him, while Steve felt stuck, and more than a little lost.
It was the one shred of truth in his mom’s gap year nonsense. Steve did want to discover himself—yearned for it. Eighteen years on this earth and he didn’t have the first clue who he was, or who he wanted to be. He’d been too busy trying to live up to others’ expectations.
Once upstairs Steve showered quickly, threw on a fresh pair of sweatpants and his favorite yellow sweater, and crossed the hall to Dustin’s room.
“Steve!” The kid’s face lit up the second he came through the door. “Hey, do you remember that campaign I was telling you about?”
Steve raised his head to the ceiling, praying for patience.
Here we fucking go already.
Dustin barreled ahead, undeterred by his lack of response. “You know, the one with the goblins and the Goblin King who comes to this plane and steals children away? Well, technically he only comes when someone wishes for it. So I guess it’s not exactly stealing but that’s part of the trick, right? And–”
“Yeah, yeah, I vaguely remember that I guess.” Steve finally jumped in waving a hand, knowing if he didn’t Dustin would keep going on-and-on until the polar ice caps melted, and the sea level rose to the point that their house was underwater.
The kid grinned broadly. “I’ve been working hard on it every night this week, and I think it’s finally ready to play! What do you think?!”
“You want—me—to play your nerd game?”
Dustin’s smile faltered around the edges. “Yeah, I mean, I know it would be better to play with more people, but I thought—”
“You think more players would make this appealing to me somehow?” Steve asked, incredulous. He crossed his arms, only to drop them back down to his sides immediately, shuddering with the realization that he was doing a perfect imitation of his mother.
“But, when I told you about it before you said it was cool!”
Steve sighed. He probably had said that, but in his defense he hadn’t actually been listening.
Time for a new tactic then.
“Dustin, you know how our parents feel about this stuff.”
“Why do you always take their side?!” The younger boy shouted.
“I-I don’t!” Steve sputtered. “They just want what’s best for you, and–”
Dustin scoffed. “That’s bullshit!”
“Buddy, come on–”
“No! You just want them to ruin my life like they did yours!"
Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever seen red so fast. He balled his hands into fists, fuming, and turned to leave without another word.
“Wait! I didn’t mean it!” Dustin called after him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Don’t go, stay and play with me… please?”
“I wish your stupid game was real. I wish the goblins would come and take you away!” Steve hissed through gritted teeth before slamming the door behind him.
Was it childish? Yes. But at least in his effort to have the last word, he’d gotten the creatures’ name right.
He was pretty sure.
Steve ran down the stairs, stomping his feet on every step along the way in another juvenile display of anger that he hoped Dustin could hear.
Itching for something—anything to distract himself from the words Dustin had thrown in his face, he slid some shoes on and took the trash out to the curb for morning pick up, the rain having slowed while he was in the shower. It did nothing to slow the spiraling of his thoughts.
Was his life really ruined?
Had he made a mistake in following his mother’s direction?
Or was it his own fault for not working harder, not being good enough?
Was it too late to try for something different?
Steve puttered around the kitchen for a while, killing a little more time before finally calling to order their pizza, and when he felt like he’d cooled down enough to not throttle his kid brother, went back upstairs to check on him.
“Alright, the pizza should be here in thirty, and If you want, I guess we can play until—” Steve began as he opened the bedroom door, but cut himself off mid-sentence, realizing that Dustin wasn’t sitting where he’d left him.
“Dustin?” He called out, stepping further into the room. The kid had to be in there somewhere.
A thump over by the bed caught his attention, and Steve turned to see a sizable lump wriggling under the comforter. “Gotcha, you little shit.” He whispered, tiptoeing over as quietly as possible before flinging the covers off to reveal… nothing.
How had the shrimp pulled off that trick?
Steve scrambled around to the other side of the bed, convinced he’d find the boy crouched beside it on the floor, or even hiding under it, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Okay,” Steve chuckled nervously. The hair on the back of his neck was standing at attention, and his upper lip was starting to sweat. “I give up, you can come out now!”
A sudden and heart-stoppingly loud crack of thunder made him jump, startled, and a flash of lightning seconds later, followed by the room falling into darkness around him as the power went out, was enough to make his breath catch in his throat.
“Shit.”
Steve ran over to the light switch on the wall, flicking it up and down to no avail. His pulse thrummed loudly in his ears, panic threatening to overtake him, but not quite loud enough to drown out the distant sound of giggles somewhere in the shadows.
“This isn’t funny, Dustin!” He shouted in the vague direction of the sound.
A muffled bang, and a crash on the opposite side of the room had him swinging his head around again. How was the kid making it sound like he was everywhere, and also nowhere at once?!
“Aren’t you getting a little old for hide and seek?!”
Steve lunged for the old bay window that took up almost the entirety of one wall of Dustin’s room, intent on throwing the drapes open to let in some moonlight, but before he could reach it the window burst open, letting in a rush of cool wind, sending the curtains billowing and the shadows dancing around him.
From one moment to the next Steve blinked, and where before there was nothing but the damp window ledge, now stood a boy the likes of which he’d never seen before.
A riot of dark, unruly curls fell around a pale, pretty face. His deep brown eyes were lined in charcoal, with a silver shimmer painted artfully above, accentuating their already otherworldly beauty. He wore a top of leather armor, like something straight out of medieval times, or one of Dustin’s fantasy novels, and skin tight pants that looked buttery soft, hugging the contours of his hips, calves, and thighs, as if they were painted on, drawing special attention to a certain rather prominent attribute that had Steve looking quickly away, his cheeks positively flaming. Slung over it all was a long cloak that glittered in the dim light. The color so dark blue that it was almost black, with a high fluted collar.
Steve swallowed hard, feeling suddenly lightheaded, like he was about to pass out.
“W-who are you?” He asked.
“You know who I am.” A deep, husky voice emanated from the stunning figure’s throat. “After all, you are the one who called for me.”
“The Goblin King?” Steve's mouth fell open, his own voice full of doubt and disbelief.
Not only for the fact that none of it was supposed to be real. It was just a stupid game, wasn’t it? But shocked too because goblins were meant to be small, grotesque, monstrous creatures, as far as he knew, and none of those were words he’d use to describe the walking wet dream who’d just broken in through his little brother’s window.
The Goblin King’s plush lips spread into a wide grin.
“Not what you were expecting?”
Steve mentally shook himself. He had to focus, Dustin was missing for fuck’s sake. “What did you do to my little brother?”
“Exactly what you asked me to do. I took him away.”
“B-but I didn't mean it!”
The boy gave a gallic shrug. “What’s said is said, sweetheart.”
Though he knew it was only meant to be condescending, a thrill ran up Steve’s spine involuntarily at the pet name. He pushed the feeling aside, shouting, “Bring him back!”
The Goblin King pursed his lips, unimpressed.
Steve cleared his throat. “Um, please?”
“Go back to your life, Steve. Hang out with your friends, play the good son again. Forget about your brother.”
“I can’t!”
“Sure you can! Look, I’ve even brought you a parting gift.” The Goblin King raised his hand, which Steve was sure had been empty before, and held up with the tips of his fingers a perfectly clear flawless sphere, a little larger than a billiard ball.
“What is it?”
“A crystal.” As The Goblin King spoke he began to weave the ball through his fingers, rolling it back and forth along the surface of his hand in a way that appeared to defy gravity, and Steve fought hard not to be mesmerized by the display.
“If you look into it just right, it’ll show you whatever you want, your wildest dreams even. But something like this?” The man paused, raising an eyebrow as he stilled the crystal and held it out like an offering. “I wouldn't give this to just anyone—say, a pathetic boy who happily spends his nights with his whiny little brother. Give him up, and you can have it.”
“No,” Steve ground out, well aware that he was being baited. And he refused to fall for it.
“You don’t want to do this, trust me.” The King shook his head. “You’re no match for me and my goblins.”
“He’s my brother, I have to get him back!”
“Very well.” The Goblin King tossed the crystal skyward where it vanished into thin air, and jumped down from his perch on the window sill, tilting his head as he studied Steve's face.
Steve held himself carefully still, caught between wanting to shrink away from the other boy, and a strange desire to lean in close to him.
“You want your brother back?” The Goblin King began, turning to point out the still open window behind him and the view beyond—no longer the night sky and the backyard Steve had known for most of his life, but something entirely different, a stretch of valley, mostly dead and barren, and just beyond that…
“He’s there. At the center of the Labyrinth, in my castle beyond the Goblin City.”
Steve blinked rapidly, taking a few steps closer to the window. He’d never seen anything like the intricate maze before. It was massive, made up of various levels of high walls, and hedges, and who knew what else. And set right in the center of it all was a tall stone castle.
“Still want to look for him?” The King asked.
Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “It doesn’t look that hard.”
The enchanting boy began to pace a slow circle around him, and when Steve turned his head to follow the movement, he realized with a start that they were no longer standing in Dustin’s bedroom. The window was gone—the house was gone. He was in that place, standing on the dry dusty grounds that surrounded the Labyrinth, about half a mile from its perimeter.
“Harder than you think.” The Goblin King gestured down at Steve’s wrist, pointing at the watch he wore there. The hands on it spun wildly as he watched, then all at once came to rest at the top, where an extra hour had appeared on its face. “And time is short. You have 13 hours, one for every year of your little brother’s life, to solve the Labyrinth before he becomes one of us, stuck in the goblin city forever.”
“Forever?!” Steve gasped, raising his eyes to find only empty air.
The Goblin King had vanished without a trace, and Steve had no choice but to start walking, the sound of his watch ticking its countdown making each step feel more urgent than the last.
As he had done so many times before, Eddie sat back on his throne, legs draped across the arm of it, sulking over the monotonous reality of his existence.
The Goblin King.
It should have been a dream gig.
There were parts he found enjoyable, of course, but all-in-all it was lonelier and far more boring than he could have ever imagined. He quickly grew tired of what little entertainment was provided by the plethora of creatures he was now responsible for ruling, and it didn’t take long before he’d explored every nook and cranny of the Labyrinth—his Labyrinth now—to the point where he knew it backwards and forwards, and could find his way to any place within its walls with his eyes closed, with or without magic.
Chrissy’s appearance had been a welcome surprise. Another stolen child left to rot in the Goblin City—one more in a long list of things his predecessor had neglected to mention before he fucked off to god knows where—she had been living among the citizens as one of them for years, unbeknownst to Eddie. Until the day she’d shown up on the castle steps asking to speak with The King about some neighborly grievance or another. He no longer recalled the reason for her outrage but he did remember being impressed by her.
They became fast friends, the only two humans living amongst the wild creatures of the realm. Well, former humans was probably a more accurate descriptor. Surely Eddie was something else now, considering he hadn’t been able to do magic before he became whatever he currently was, and neither he nor Chrissy seemed to be aging at a normal rate. His humanity, or lack thereof, wasn’t something he usually liked to think about too much.
It was wonderful for a while, finally having a real friend by his side, someone he could be himself with, not feeling the need to put on the act of King with her like he did with the goblins or the rest of his subjects, but eventually even Chrissy’s companionship wasn’t enough to fill the gaping void in his chest.
So here he was, sprawled on his throne, swirling a few of his crystal balls around in his hand as he stared into them, looking for something he couldn’t put words to, while watching the other world go by, when something caught his eye—a pretty face with a body and voice to match. He was playing basketball, of all things, and Eddie had never understood the draw of sports before, but he could certainly see the appeal of this particular boy in those sinfully tight little shorts.
It became a habit after a while, to look in on him every now and then… for research purposes.
Steve, the name Eddie came to know the other boy by through listening in, was a baffling specimen. As nice as he was to look at—and he was very, very, nice to look at indeed—he was also a bit of an entitled asshole, at his worst around his friends and in school, through classes and sports alike. He became a slightly different version of that guy at home when faced with his parents, and yet another when he spent time with his little brother, who he seemed to hate one minute and love the next as though he couldn't decide one way or the other.
Then there was the Steve he was when he was by himself.
Alone in his room with no one around to observe—that he knew of, anyway—Steve was quiet, contemplative. At times Eddie thought he might even be lonely? Which just seemed like a wild concept considering the boy was, more often than not, surrounded by friends and family.
It pissed Eddie off a little, to be honest.
Here Steve was with the world laid out at his feet. A nice house, a brother who looked up to him, parents who were there, maybe bordering on overbearing sometimes but was that really such a bad thing? Born with a silver fucking spoon in his mouth, and he still wasn’t happy. He didn’t seem to appreciate any of it.
But no matter how much the other boy annoyed him, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop watching, wanting to know more—see more—look his fill, and unravel the puzzle that was Steve Harrington.
Then one day, it happened.
The thing Eddie had been equal parts looking forward to—if only to break up the tedium and escape his own realm for a while—and dreading since the beginning of his tenure as the Goblin King.
Someone made a wish.
And he was duty bound to see the deal through. He was pretty sure he had wiggle room, but the basics were clear: steal the child, explain the terms, and if the guardian chose to play the game and fight for their child’s return, then play the game he must.
Eddie stood in the middle of his closet, discarded clothes thrown haphazardly around him, and knew he was running out of time. The goblins were anxious to get to work and do their part.
“What are you even doing in there?” Chrissy shouted from the other room.
She’d been out there waiting for him, judging him, while he swiped on a bit of eye makeup, teasing his hair a bit for good measure, and changed his outfit at least three times, looking for just the right ensemble to help him pull this off. He sighed, looking down at himself—leggings and leathers, It would have to do.
Eddie poked his head out into the bedchamber. “Uh, getting dressed? What does it look like!”
Chrissy was lounging on top of his bed, her head propped up while she read over a small stack of scrolls. There were hundreds of them lying around the castle, tucked into desk drawers, shoved in corners, collecting dust on bookshelves, and Chrissy had taken it upon herself to read as many of them as she could to figure out how things worked around here so they could make the most of it. It was slow going, admittedly, Goblin being her second language and all, but she was getting there, and had already uncovered many tricks that were about to seriously come in handy.
She shot him a sharp look, eyebrows raised.
He grumbled wordlessly, quickly ducking back into the closet to lace up his boots and throw his favorite cloak on for good measure, before finally stepping out.
“Took you long enough,” she said, throwing the roll of parchment she was reading aside.
“Can’t rush perfection, darling. I have to make sure it all sends the right message.”
“Why, because it’s your first time going back?”
“That, yes. But also—” Eddie looked down, nervously tying, and untying, and retying the fasteners at his neck until his cloak hung just so. “I can’t believe it, but It’s him, Chris.”
“Who?”
“Steve.”
“Oh,” she squeaked in surprise. “The guy you’re always creeping on while you fondle your balls, or whatever?”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I am not creeping, I am observing. How else am I supposed to keep up with the times when I'm stuck here?”
“Sure, Jan.”
“I’m going to assume that’s one of those references I don't understand because I've been here since the dawn of time.”
“The eighties were hardly the dawn of time, Eddie.”
“Some days it feels like it,” he groaned, flopping himself down on the pillowy-soft mattress next to her. “How do you know so much about pop culture anyway?”
It was a genuine question, one he'd asked many times before with no luck. She’d been in the Labyrinth much longer than he had, and yet somehow still had a better grasp of the modern outside world.
“You have your ways of keeping up with the times, and I have mine.” She gave his shoulder a hard shove. “Now, get up and get a move on. You have a job to do, Your Majesty.”
“You don’t have to patronize me,” he huffed.
“And you don’t have to wear those ridiculous collars, but here we are.”
Eddie jumped back up to his feet, slapping a hand to his chest in mock horror. “You wound me! The clothes are the best thing about this job! They’re cool!”
“Yeah,” she snorted. “To nerds.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of what? Your extensive collection of feather boas?”
She was stalling.
They both were.
Eddie snapped his mouth shut abruptly without another retort, swallowing hard as he backed his way to the door, wishing he could take her with him for moral support.
But Chrissy was right. He had to go, and he had to go now before he lost his nerve.
“I-I guess this is it. I’ll be back soon with the child,” he said quietly.
She nodded, offering him an encouraging smile as he slipped out. “And I’ll be right here to make sure no one scares him too badly.”
Chapter 2: Into the Labyrinth
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He’s a Winchester
Chapter 5
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.
Slow burn (ish), mom!reader
Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, small angst, bullying, reader being a victim
Chapter Word Count: 6639
MDNI 18+
A/N: sorry this took so long! Life has been a lot aha. I kinda feel like I’ve rambled on with this one, so I’m sorry about that… I also feel like this was kinda a filler chapter? Idk, I’m sorry if this one isn’t as exciting… Either way, I hope you like it! As always, it's only proofread by moi, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!
A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.
Photos from Pinterest
New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1
Previous Chapter: Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Sunday mornings were the only time we could get away with being lazy. I would crawl out of bed at around eight o’clock - compared to my normal six o’clock - and shuffle downstairs in my pyjamas in search of coffee whilst Levi was either still sleeping or playing Guitar Hero on the PS2, quietly by himself. On this particular Sunday morning, however, I did indeed venture downstairs at just gone eight, and instead of finding one young boy playing video games by himself, I was greeted with the sight of him battling it out with his uncle whilst his dad sat and watched, critiquing his techniques. I padded in quietly, pulling my long soft cardigan around me further as I tried my best to watch on unseen, enjoying this moment just as much as they were and unwilling to pop their happy bubble. I watched for a few minutes, seeing how Sam didn't go easy on Levi just because he was a kid, and how Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off his son who was entirely immersed in the game, a soft smile taking up permanent residence on his lips. Dean turned his head slightly and caught sight of me in the archway, that soft smile evolving into a pulse quickening grin. He stood quickly, striding over to me with those plaid pyjama pants distractingly low on his hips.
“G’mornin’ sweetheart, you sleep ok?” He was now a few inches away and smelt like coffee and warm linen - it was the sort of scent that wrapped around me and drew me in with an almost dangerous nature.
“Like the dead,” I grinned, looking up at him, “though I'm not surprised after all those beers and our 1AM bedtime. You're a bad influence Winchester,” I poked his chest and had to fight back a groan when I felt how frustratingly firm his muscles were beneath his grey henley. Instead of vocalising my ‘annoyance’, I bit my lip, which in its own way I suppose was worse. Worse, because now those mossy green eyes were looking at my mouth, their gaze lingering before looking back up to my eyes.
“What can I say except I had a good time? It was nice catching up like that. It was like…”
“Like we’d gone back to a simpler time?”
“Like we'd never been apart.”
Those words held a sudden weight to them that thumped deep in my chest.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, my eyes not leaving him, “I know what you mean”.
We both seemed caught up for a moment, silent and unmoving - just watching each other. He seemed totally steady, save for the deep inhale he took when I held his gaze just a little too long. He cleared his throat, breaking the trance that seemed too quick to have ever even existed in the first place.
“Coffee?” He asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.
“Coffee sounds great,” I smiled, glancing over to Sam and Levi who'd still failed to notice my arrival.
Dean and I paced leisurely to the kitchen where I was pleasantly surprised to see a pot of coffee already brewed, just waiting to be poured. Dean reached into the overhead cupboard, already learning where things were and selected two mugs. Pouring the hot liquid into both of them before handing me one, we both leant against the counter as I relished the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into my fingertips.
“You know,” I took a sip, humming in satisfaction, “I could get used to this,” my words felt dangerous the moment they slipped from my lips, a part of me kicking myself for vocalising such internal thoughts. Deans eyes widened almost fast enough for me to miss before his gaze returned to normal, his lips parting slightly as his mug paused on the elevation to his mouth. But once that half a second was over, it was like the fleeting surprise never happened. He simply hummed in agreement, his eyes soft and warm.
“Did you sleep ok?” I said quickly, taking the attention away from my earlier slip of words. He grinned with a nod.
“You have no idea how nice it is to sleep somewhere that's not musty and dusty and a possible crime scene from back in the eighties.” I grinned much like he did, my mind suddenly filling with images of brown and orange decor, unwashed bedsheets and spiders who might as well pay rent because they’ve been there so long.
“Well I can assure you that you're safe from all of that here - though no promises on the eighties crime scene, I have no idea who lived in this house back then.”
Deans grin turned more self assured as he raised an eyebrow at me.
“You don't think the equipment I brought would've made a noise if there was something here that went bump in the night?”
“Equipment?” I almost snorted, “you mean the EMF thing that you made on ‘pimp my Walkman’?”
Dean practically clutched his pearls.
“How dare you - that thing is a work of art. Blood, sweat and tears went into that masterpiece,” by the end of his sentence he was grinning again, almost like he knew he was talking out of his ass.
“Uh huh. Sure thing baby.”
Shit.
Deans lips twitch upwards as the intensity of his gaze sparks up something hot before quickly dying out, his posture straightening as he lifts his mug to his mouth again. I kick myself a second time for letting the term of endearment roll off my tongue. I’d never had this issue before - accidentally calling people nicknames or anything of the sort. I’d dated guys who had perfectly reasonable names that I always remembered to call them. Yet Dean… he stood here, in my kitchen after almost a decade and somehow still managed to turn my brain to butter. It was hard to describe, as surely I couldn’t still feel that way for someone who I’d been parted from for so long with not a whisper of their name from anyone's lips but my own. I no longer knew him. Nine years of time and life and experiences will have sculpted Dean and everything that I knew him to be into a totally different person…wouldn’t it? Hell, maybe he’s even got a girlfriend somewhere out there who's waiting for him to return to her, but he’s just been too nice to mention it. That, or I’ve been too selfishly wrapped up in things that used to be us to even think of asking. Perhaps the mushy consistency of my brain was simply another symptom of some so-called ‘muscle memory’, as my current behaviour was always how I’d been around him. Flirty. Playful. Infatuated. Perhaps I simply didn’t know how else to act; how to be normal in his presence because I knew he’s seen every inch of me, both physically and philosophically. He’d seen my ugly days yet he’d still kissed away the turmoil without so much as a second thought. Maybe, just maybe, I needed to reel myself back in - take myself back to before we were star crossed lovers. Before the memories were made and our hearts beat to the same tune. Back when we were just two people who would laugh and joke and stay up late. Perhaps that would make this all easier.
“There’s that name again,” Deans low drawl snapped me from my internal debate, an unreadable expression dawning on his features.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think my mouth and brain are working together anymore,” I sighed, fighting to keep some sliver of amusement in my voice.
“Oh yeah?” a smirk appeared on Deans face, that playful glint returning to his eye as he chewed his bottom lip as though having an internal debate of his own. Who knows what side won, but I’m sure some form of sleep depravity was involved with his next few words: “I remember a time when your mouth didn’t need your brain and it worked just fine on its own.” If his aim here was to make me flustered, he’d sure as hell succeeded as heat bloomed across my cheeks and my mouthful of coffee was spat back into my cup with a splutter.
“Dean!”
He released an almost wicked laugh, clearly pleased with himself for my reaction. If he was going to be making comments like that on a regular basis, it was going to prove extremely difficult for ‘operation: we’re just friends’ to be in full effect.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’ll stop,” his words were softer yet the edge of amusement was still present.
I scowled at him with as much venom as a fucking wetwipe, my own amused grin straining at my lips.
“You better,” I jabbed a finger into his chest before placing my half empty coffee mug on the counter, turning away from him to rummage through the kitchen cupboards. I turned back around a moment later and thrust four bowls in his hands along with four spoons and two large cereal boxes.
“Put these on the table before you say anything else that might cause me to choke on my coffee.”
I watched a choking innuendo pass right before his eyes yet he bit his tongue and pursed his lips, taking a moment before his eyebrows rose slightly.
“Were you always this bossy?”
“I’m not bossy, I just have a child who needs to be fed. Now, table,” I pointed to the items in his arms before pointing to their designated destination.
“You could at least say ‘please’,” his tone was growing taunting and it drew a sigh from my chest.
“Fine. Can you put those things on the table, please.”
“Hmm… I don’t feel like you meant that, it felt a little… I don't know… hostile?” The grin was now in full effect.
“DEAN.”
“Ok! I’m going!” he turned and did as I asked, finally setting the table for all four of us.
Breakfast passed by with so much ease it was as though we’d done it every day of our lives. Sam and Levi continued to talk about Guitar Hero whilst Dean listened, chipping in the classic rock trivia where he could. The whole time, I just sat, listened and watched, absorbing everything about this moment in time and doing whatever I could to make this a core memory. I breathed in, telling myself to remember the smell of sugar and coffee in the air, along with the new and unfamiliar masculine undertone of cologne and old leather. I looked around, watching how the golden morning light made their hair and skin glow in shades of amber and white, the small dust particles in the air illuminated like fireflies. The sound of their animated chatter was soft, creating a serene ambiance that was as pleasant on the ears as notes from a music box. Everything about this moment was all I’d dreamt of; from the fully occupied breakfast table to the relaxed atmosphere, and the cherry on the cake was knowing that these men were family. Levis family. He had a dad and an uncle who wanted to cherish him and spend time with him, to make him feel so important and loved that it made up for nearly nine years of absence. I know, deep, deep down that part of this was from them feeling guilty - Dean more so than Sam - yet that was only a small part. Their love and affection for him stemmed from something real and it was so easy to see, so fucking clear on their faces, that it made me want to cry. And that feeling was so fucking strong that I had to excuse myself from the table and freshen up in the bathroom, barely able to utter a word to them as I stepped away.
After taking five and splashing some water on my face I emerged from the bathroom and headed back downstairs. Sam and Levi were back in front of the playstation, this time playing Need for Speed, and Dean remained at the table, another coffee between his palms as he leant forwards, staring into the liquid. He must’ve heard me coming as he looked up with a slightly concerned expression.
“You ok?” he asked.
“Yeah,” my voice didn’t come out as level as I’d hoped, so I diverted the conversation. “I thought that’d be you over there playing Need for Speed. How come you’re over here glaring at your coffee?”
“Ahh, we’ve been up for a while and I spent about an hour on Guitar Hero with Levi before you came down. Plus…” the small smile on his lips that appeared when he looked over at his son was now directed towards me, “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Uh oh, I hate it when sentences start like that.”
“No, it’s nothing bad. I just…uhhh… well, last night when we were talking, you said something that I can’t stop thinking about,” despite his calm expression, his knuckles were starting to turn white around his cup.
“I said a lot of things last night, Dean, you’re going to ha-”
“Let me take you out.”
“What?”
“Let me take you out,” he repeated, but this time softer and slower, “you said last night that you never get to go out for drinks anymore and that you’ve had some pretty shit dates,” we both grimaced slightly at the thought of that. “ Well… I’m here. Let me take you out. Levi is at a sleepover tonight so you have nothing to worry about where he’s concerned,” he took a deep breath and reached across the table to place his hand, warm and large, over mine. “Let me do something nice for you, like you deserve.” There was a pause as silence settled between us for a moment. He wanted to take me out. Like, a date, or just as old friends, or as co-parents…? I had no idea what his angle was on this. Did he want to have sex? Was that it? Was he just trying to get his dick wet? Old Dean would occasionally pull those tricks with me, though they were usually few and far between, but would the new Dean do that? Was it even a low bar thing to do? Maybe it’s a pity date, and he’s only taking me out because I’ve been so incapable of being able to replace him with someone who is better - who probably doesn’t even exist - that he’s now just feeling sorry for me. Why, oh why the ever living fuck am I even over analysing this? Dean wanted to take me for drinks so why should I care what his motive is. This is a fucking opportunity for me to relax and let loose a little. To not be mom for a few hours. To be me. And why should I care if he wants to fuck me? I should be flattered, right? That he possibly still finds me attractive? And I can’t deny that it’s been a while since I’ve had half decent sex - or any sex at all for this matter.
“Yes,” I blurted, perhaps a little aggressively.
“Yes?” he smiles again, that easy, contagious smile, “you’ll let me take you on a date?”
“So it is a date?” I couldn’t help but mirror his grin, adding my own amused tone.
“Wasn’t that obvious?”
“Well, no, you said you’d ‘take me out’. That could mean anything. You could’ve meant with a fucking gun.”
Dean erupted into laughter, shaking his head. That laugh. I remember likening it to a favourite song that was so easy to put on repeat. It was addictive.
“Ok, so I’m not taking you out with a gun. I’m taking you out on a date. Have I dumbed it down enough for ya’ know?”
“If you were any clearer you’d be transparent,” I said, my tone bordering on mocking.
“Great, well, me and Sammy have a few loose ends to tie up from this case we’re on, so we need to head out soon. We’ll be back by the evening though, soooo…. Be ready for six?”
I nodded eagerly, watching as he stood from the table. The sight of him in the henley - plaid bottoms combo makes me want to have a cozy day indoors, watching nothing but scary movies and scarfing down popcorn and cookie dough. The sigh I heave from my lungs was totally involuntary.
“Yeah,” I smile, “six is perfect.”
Kat and Toby arrived at the house around noon. Whilst the boys race upstairs to get on with God-knows-what, Kat strides in with a knowing smirk when she clocks the duffle bags that are clearly not mine beside the couch, along with the lingering aroma that's distinctly masculine intertwining with the pumpkin spice from my scented candles. As I studied her face for all but a few seconds, I braced myself for the flurry of questions that I knew were buzzing around her mind.
“Sooooo…” her tone was already amused as she flopped down onto the couch. “Anything you need to tell me?”
“What? Who do you think I am?” I scoff at her words, yet my pulse quickens at the thought of telling her about my plans for tonight.
“I think you're a woman still in love with her childhood sweetheart and that he's already sweeping you off your feet.”
“I am not still in love with him. I can't possibly be in love with someone I've not seen for almost a decade.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Bitch, don't ‘mmm hmm’ me. I'm not in love with Dean.”
“Would you fuck him?”
“God yes.”
“So you're keeping him around for the possibility of good dick?”
I threw myself down beside her on the couch, pulling a throw cushion into my lap.
“No, that is so not true. I can't believe you'd think me so shallow,” I held my hand to my chest in mock devastation. She hummed again.
“Didn't you do that to what's-his-face?”
“Who?”
“The guy you dated about a year ago, drove around in that Mustang?”
“Oh shit yeah! I think his name was Chad? Or maybe Brad…? Ok yeah, I did kinda keep him around for his dick… and his car. That car was awesome.”
“You shallow, shallow bitch.”
I threw the cushion which hit her square in the face, likely leaving a print of her lipstick behind on the soft fabric.
“But that was just some dude that was only with me so he could fucking tick ‘banged a milf’ off his bucket list. This is Dean I'm talking about. He's… well… he's Dean. And he's not here for me. He's here for Levi. Don't blame a man for wanting to stick around when he's just found out he's got a kid,” I gave her a look that said ‘I fucking love you but please can we drop this now’, and she did, one final hum moving past her lips. We stared at each other for a moment, her expression one of a studious nature and mine one of feigned innocence. This woman could read me like a book, and I both simultaneously loved and hated it. I loved it, because when something went wrong, and quite often in my life things did, she just knew. She knew to be at mine that same evening with a bottle of red and a bucket of popcorn, pyjamas on and the boys asleep upstairs. This woman had slept in my bed more times than any man as we continued to have sleepovers like teenagers well into our twenties. Alcoholic sleepovers. Yet I hated how she read me like a book, because like right now, if I was in denial about anything or for some absurd reason trying to keep a secret, she would just know. She was like a fucking mind reader. I chuckled inwardly at the thought of that being true. Maybe Dean should scan her with his Walkman and freak her out. Maybe then she'd get off my case about me still being in love with him. I'm not in love with him.
“You still aren't telling me something,” her voice was even, the amusement fading slightly as she stared at me, waiting for me to stop beating around the bush. Under the heat of her stare I caved, sighing and slumping even further into the soft cushions behind me.
“He's taking me out…on a date.”
“I FUCKING knew it!”
“What?! How would you know that?!” I almost jumped as she flew forward in her seat, the gleam back in her eyes as she grinned like the Cheshire Cat.
“I didn't know that exactly, but bitch I knew you were hiding something juicy!”
“It's not juicy! It's casual - just drinks. I’m gonna wear jeans.”
“Oh yeah, because flaunting the curvature of ones ass makes it casual…”
“Aren’t you here to collect my kid or something?” I launch into my last resort to end this hellish interrogation - which involved kicking her out.
“Babes you can kick me out of your house but you can’t ignore this,” she stood slowly, her ‘all-knowing’ expression un-faltering.
“Kat, it’s only day two of him being here! You are getting way ahead of yourself,” I stood with her, shaking my head.
“Two days plus the whole freakin’ year you were dating. That man is not a stranger to you. Hell, you’ve probably had that coc-”
“THANK YOU, Kat! I love you, you are the yin to my fucking yang but please for the love of CHRIST - shut up!”
Her expression finally cracked and she practically cackled at my discomfort, making her way to the stairs to get the boys.
“Bitch, if I don’t get details about tonight then -”
“Ok I’ll tell you! But seriously, don’t read into it too much, it’s just drinks.”
She strutted to the bottom of the stairs before ascending, calling over her shoulder; “Sure, whatever you say honey!”
It took longer than I'd have hoped, but Kat eventually left with the boys for the remainder of the day. As soon as they'd left the building, it was like I could breathe again - like the house could breathe again. It was a rare occasion for me to have the place to myself for five minutes, let alone a whole twenty four hours. It was like I could finally hear my own thoughts again after the busy breakfast and Kat's dire interrogation. The silence was bliss. It was pure bliss as I made myself a coffee and settled comfortably on the couch, taking a moment to myself. It was blissful right up until my own thoughts started banging at the door in the back of my mind. Thoughts about Dean, and his motives and my motives. Suddenly my relaxing afternoon to myself was quickly becoming a caged-in trap for my internal thoughts to run wild, the drums of possibilities sounding in the far reaches of my brain, beating faster and faster the closer they drew. Almost as quickly as I'd sat down, I jumped up and headed to the store cupboard under the stairs. One thing that could distract me was cleaning, so that's exactly what I was going to do.
I blitzed the house from top to bottom, hoovering, mopping, cleaning mirrors and windows, dusting and evening folding the pile of laundry that was starting to become part of the furniture. Much to my dismay, that only took up two hours of my time, so I was left with the only other task that I hate more than folding hundreds of small human sized pieces of fabric. Grocery shopping.
After a manic stock take of the fridge, cupboards and pantry, I made a list, grabbed my bag, threw on my jacket and headed out.
I'd been shopping around the small town convenience store for around twenty minutes, browsing the aisles and throwing everything - plus some extras - from my list into the aggravatingly wonky trolley. I hated grocery shopping with a passion - the constant beeping from the checkouts, the passive aggressive road rage between trolley users, and the dozens of obscenely slow browsers frustrated me beyond belief. I was normally able to push it to a big haul every two weeks, but with the prospect of Sam and Dean staying a while, it was a safe bet to fill the house to the brim with snacks and meals alike. With the lifestyle that those two lived, I can't imagine that they're overly fussy eaters, and I have a hunch that Dean still loves turkey dinosaurs.
The cereal aisle wasn't supposed to be an eventful place - deciding between Cookie Crisp and Cinnamon Squares should be the highlight of this venture. However as my luck would have it, it became eventful.
“Oh hi! (Y/n)!”
I looked up from my crumpled list and was greeted with three faces that I recognised but not to the point of acquaintanceship.
“Uhh, hi? Can I help you?”
“I just wanted to say that it's so great to finally see that Levi's father is around. It's just so important, isn't it? For a boy to have that male role model,” the first woman spoke; her peroxide blonde hair looked so overbleached it may as well have been straw on her head, and it almost distracted me from her painfully patronising voice.
“Excuse me? Do I know you?” My voice started to take on a defensive edge as my palms immediately grew sweaty, this situation already making me uncomfortable.
She laughed, looking over at her friend's like I'd asked some stupid fucking question.
“Our son's go to the same school - you should really know this.”
“Well, if our sons aren't friends, then why would I need to?”
She took a deep breath.
“I just think it's funny how someone like you managed to get someone like… what's his name… Dean? Isn't he a little out of your league?”
My pulse thrummed as my frustration grew with the sudden, unsolicited and blatant attack. How the fuck did they know Deans name? Someone must've overheard us at Jolenes'... or maybe at the track? And what the fuck did she mean by ‘out of my league’? If she was insinuating what I thought she was, then she's going to need to head over to the fucking freezer aisle real freaking soon.
“Excuse me?”
She smirked, knowing she was sinking her plastic fucking talons into my skin already.
“Oh I think you heard me. Does Dean know? That you trapped him? When you got pregnant on purpose at nineteen?”
My blood began to boil as I white knuckled the handle of the trolley to stop myself from punching her square between the eyes.
“Fuck you; I didn't ‘trap him’. Is that really what you cliquey bitches think?” I was equal parts furious and heartbroken. Furious, because how fucking dare they assume that just because Dean is a God tier DILf that I fooled him into getting me pregnant all those years ago. And heartbroken because, well, is that really what the people in this town thought of me? If these women thought that, then who's to say half the town don't think the same? Or maybe more - maybe it's the whole freaking town with Kat being the only exception, and I've been living so cocooned in my own bubble that it never even occurred to me. But Dean has barely even been here a day, so I can’t exactly blame myself for being so wrapped up in my own life with everything going on. How can people form such strong opinions so quickly when they don’t even know the whole story? My story with Dean. Not theirs. They’ve somehow managed to put two and two together to come up with negative fucking ten, and I’ll be damned if I let them drag our names through the mud.
“Oh honey, we know that you tricked him. A man like that, with that face and physique would never have chosen you willingly, right? I mean, you really don’t look his type.”
“Oh, and you do? Because you know Dean so well?”
“That’s enough!” We were caught off guard by the oldest of the three, a woman perhaps in her fifties, snapping in a clipped tone. “Michelle, that’s quite enough, you’re taking this too far now. And you,” she turned to me with a stern gaze, “that man looks like trouble. We don’t like those sorts around here; you tell him to behave himself.” My anger and frustration was quickly melting into straight up irritation.
“Look, lady-”
“Karen.”
“Sure, ok… look, Deans a grown ass man, he can do whatever the fuck he likes - he’s here on a job. I’m not telling him to do shit.”
“Language! Such a foul mouth-”
“Is he single?” our heads quickly snapped to the third woman of the group - younger than the other two but still a little older than myself. She was a near double of the blonde from the hair to the clothes to the claws, yet she seemed to lack the spite.
“What?” yet another question that caught me off guard. What the fuck is wrong with these women?
“Dean, is he single? I mean, I’ve not seen him, but from how you describe him, he seems hot,” she twirled a lock of hair around her finger like a school girl despite likely being in her thirties.
“Hannah you’re married,” Karen chimed in with obvious disgust.
That was it, the last fucking straw. I’d had enough of the ambush from three women that I barely even knew. I adjusted my grip on the trolley and quickly planned my escape route, spotting an opening in the crowd to the side. I gritted my teeth and steeled my gaze, the bitter taste of disgust, fury, and disappointment coating my tongue as I all but spat my words.
“This has been a riveting conversation, truely, but I’m leaving. Now,” and with that I hastily left them behind, finishing my shopping with the dark cloud of judgement looming over me.
The urge to cry hot, angry tears in the car on the ride home was a battle I didn't want to fight. The intensity of the emotions brewing in the pit of my stomach and bubbling into my chest was so strong, so consuming that I didn't even realise I was pulling into my own driveway, having completed the short journey on what I like to call ‘blackout autopilot’. One tear was shed over the shitshow, and in my opinion, that was one tear too many. I was annoyed at myself with having let it get to me so much, knowing I'd grown thicker skin than this. It wasn't the first time I'd been confronted, like a fucking black sheep in a blindingly white flock, yet for some reason, this got to me. At this point, I was drained from even thinking about it, so I grabbed the groceries, making several trips to get them all in the house, put away the fridge and freezer items and left the rest on the counter to deal with later. Right now, I needed a large glass of wine and something to distract myself with. So I decided on the only thing I had going for me at this point in time.
Time to pick an outfit for tonight.
My bedroom was a modest size and the king-size bed practically consumed the room. I had a large, sliding mirrored-door wardrobe that was built into the structure of the room which I flung open and started to rummage through as soon as I made it upstairs.
I'd told myself - and Kat - that it was casual. Dean had implied it, so this shouldn't be too hard to find something nice to wear.
Wrong.
I must've spent the best part of an hour trying on dozens of different tops with my only pair of ‘nice’ jeans - those ones that hugged my ass and thighs just right. I tried long sleeves, short sleeves, chiffon, cotton, satin, opaque, obscenely translucent, bright, monochrome and in all honesty, I felt inadequate in every single one. I'd never really been one to feel overly self conscious of how I looked, but for some absurd reason, this date with Dean was making me flustered. It had me worried that he wouldn’t like how I looked, especially since I’d had Levi and my body had changed in a way that he didn’t know just yet.
Just yet.
I cursed myself slightly, shaking that idea from my head. Yes, I’ve had plenty of time to try and get myself back to normal, but some things just weren't the same anymore, and probably never would be. I hated the fact that I was even stressed about this. The safest option was to just go for something comfortable, so I donned a stretchy, low-cut and long sleeved black top and slid on a pair of black closed-toe heels before sitting down at my dresser.
I’d just opened my makeup bag when I heard the door downstairs open and close, quickly followed by the oddly comforting sounds of Sam and Deans voices floating through the house and up the stairs. I turned to myself in the mirror, sighing at the tired looking woman staring back at me. Get your shit together, (Y/n), Dean is taking you on a date. I grasped my over-sharpened eyeliner pencil that was likely no longer than an inch in length and got to work. I suddenly flinched and nearly poked myself in the eye when Dean appeared in my bedroom doorway.
“Jesus, Dean! You scared the crap out of me - I didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.”
He grinned slightly as he leant against the wooden frame, large arms crossing over his chest.
“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to…” his voice trailed off and I could feel his eyes on me, as though he was searching for something. A few moments went by in silence, and right as I was about to turn to him, he spoke.
“Hey, are you ok?” His voice was dangerously soft, and concerned in a way that could easily have me weeping in his arms. Because of the shitty afternoon I’d had, I feel like it wouldn’t take much kindness from him to have me crumble - no matter how much I’d hate myself for it afterwards. Instead, I pushed everything down as best as I could and turned to him with a weak smile.
“Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve had a bit of a weird, shitty afternoon but I won’t ruin your evening with it.” At my words he pulled a face, his own words quickly following.
“It’s your evening. And if there’s something eating at you, you know you can talk to me. Just like you used to,” his smile was back, warm and comforting and like a balm over a burn. I looked back at myself in the mirror for a moment, debating if it was even worth talking about. If it was anyone but Dean, I wouldn’t hesitate to keep this to myself. But it was Dean, and I hated to say it, but he was always good at dealing with me when I was like this in the past. I turned to him and let his calming presence seep into my bones, desperately trying to take it on myself.
“Ok,” I said quietly, “I’ll tell you at the bar. But I don’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I don’t want to talk about it all evening,” He nodded.
“Whatever you need sweetheart,” he stood up straight and said something about getting ready himself before he left the room, leaving me to finish up before finally heading downstairs.
It was roughly another fifteen minutes before I made my way down; Dean already waiting for me in the archway to the kitchen. He looked up as he heard me coming, eyes brightening when he grinned at me.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” his voice was smooth and deep, a flirtatious undertone rumbling in his chest.
“Not so bad yourself Winchester,” I walked up to stand in front of him, almost toe-to-toe. I looked him over, taking in the black shirt he wore, untucked and paired his jeans. The boots and brown leather jacket remained the same, yet I could see the damp patches on both from where he’d scrubbed either mud or blood from the fabric - perhaps both. It wouldn’t be the first time. I took a deep breath, my pulse quickening as his scent filled my senses.
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, removing a hand from his pocket and let it hang awkwardly at his side. I shook my head.
“Not yet, I sometimes forget to eat when Levi isn’t around.” Dean shot me a look that could have been both concerned or protective.
“Ok, well I’m taking you for dinner too then.”
“What? No Dean, you really don’t have t-”
“Don’t argue with me sweetheart, I'm fucking feeding you,” his tone was final, leaving no room for negotiation so I sighed in defeat.
“Fine, but we’re not going anywhere expensive.”
His smirk widened across his face as he continued to look down at me, finally placing that awkwardly hanging hand on the small of my back, guiding me to the door. He shouted a ‘goodbye’ to Sam over his shoulder and, without really waiting for a reply, he ushered me out of the house and towards the car, locking up behind us. I walked up to the black vehicle, the excitement starting to bubble at the thought of going for a ride in her again after all this time. As Dean walked up to me, he opened the passenger side door, letting me hop in first. I took my seat, quickly dumping my bag and jacket in the footwell so I could softly run my fingertips over the perfectly maintained leather seats, noticing how not a thing had changed - not even the box of cassettes on the back seat. As Dean slid into the drivers seat, his expression something akin to pride, he couldn’t help but comment on my reaction to being back in the impala.
“I bet you missed Baby more than you missed me,” he joked, turning the key and letting the engine roar into life. I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat.
“I missed you both equally,” the humorous tone came easily, my earlier worries already started to feel insignificant as they slipped away with every tick of the engine.
“Equally?” he echoed, feigning hurt, “you don’t even prefer me just a little bit more?”
I pretended to ponder intently, holding a finger to my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. An obnoxious string of ‘hmmms’ slipped through my lips before I saw him roll his eyes, still grinning.
“Yeah, I guess I do. Especially since you're taking me on a date,” my own words made my heart flutter and luckily he'd moved his gaze from me to the road as he pulled out of my drive. My face felt warm and I cursed at myself for being so easily affected by him already, entranced by the way those long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel and the muscles in his jaw flexed under the glow of the passing street lamps. I couldn't deny that he was still painfully attractive, even after all this time. If I was being honest with myself, he was making it incredibly difficult to concentrate on much else right now. If drinks were soon to be involved, there was a very high chance of me making a total ass of myself in front of him.
Tonight was likely going to be one to remember.
Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @whichwitchwanda @pillowjj @iloveyou2mia @kamisobsessed @bonbonnie88
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester smut#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x you smut#dean x female!reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester reader insert#dean smut#dean winchester slow burn#slow burn#supernatural reader insert#supernatural#spn#eventual smut
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is it too on the nose to request some fluff 78 and 133 with sirius black? (i'm a basic bitch obviously) ❤️
aww no cause this is so cliché in the best way possible and cute at the same time 😭 always up for some siri as padfoot fluff <3
prompt list
78. "the dog’s cuter."
133. "that’s your nickname?!"
۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; sirius m-list ; how to request
"where are we going?"
"babe, for the millionth time – not telling!"
"sirius, i swear to merlin…"
you sighed after another failed attempt to pry your boyfriend’s hands from your eyes in order to see where you were and where he was leading you. the boy sometimes had the craziest ideas, and you still haven’t forgotten that one time he decided to push you into the lake for some ‘lighthearted fun’, as he so graciously put it…
"here we are, love," sirius said after a couple more minutes of walking. "keep your eyes closed."
you groaned in annoyance, because you were still blissfully unaware of what was waiting for you once you’d finally be able to see, and crossed your arms on your chest, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. sirius was absolutely infuriating when he wanted to be, and he seemed to be basking in this state.
you heard him taking a few steps back and then, silence.
"sirius black, if you don’t tell me to open my eyes in three, two-"
your angry rant was interrupted by something – or someone – bumping into your leg. or, better said, bumping your leg on purpose. you flinched, startled by the unexpected turn of events, and your frown deepened. you opened your eyes despite not getting verbal permission and they immediately widened when you saw that – a big black dog sitting at your feet and looking up at you with a cute tilt to its head.
"hi…" you hesitantly murmured, stretching your hand out to pat the dog’s head. it seemed to be friendly, leaning into the touch and not trying to instantly maul you, which was a nice thing to know. "have you seen my idiot of a boyfriend, by chance?" you asked the dog absentmindedly, obviously not really expecting any real answer. you turned your head to the side, then to the other one. no sirius in sight.
"looking for something, love?"
you practically yelled when you heard his voice suddenly coming from behind you while you weren’t looking. you glared at your boyfriend, who was currently snickering at your bewildered facial expression.
"where were you?! and where’s the pup?"
"the pup? oh you mean–"
right in front of your widened eyes, sirius turned into the big black dog you had seen just a minute ago, and then back into a human. your mouth was agape, because as much as you expected from him, it wasn’t that. wasn’t that at all.
"you mean this pup?" sirius finished, mischief lighting up his eyes.
"you’re an animagus?!"
"yeah," sirius answered nonchalantly, looking at his nails, like an illegal animagus was a perfectly normal thing to be. "padfoot, at your service."
"that’s your nickname?! what does that even mean?"
"ah, don’t worry about it, love." sirius waved you off, which was very annoying, because how could he just spring this on you without any explanation?
"the dog’s cuter anyway," you said with a huff, crossing your arms on her chest and rolling your eyes to emphasize the way you were offended by his actions. sirius just barked out a laugh and stepped closer, wrapping his arms loosely around your form.
"alright, alright, i’ll tell you. but you might want to sit down for this one, love. it’s quite a long story."
#— witch’s works ☾#— prompts ☾#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#the marauders era#the marauders#the marauders fluff#the marauders imagine#the marauders fanfiction#the marauders fanfic#the marauders fic
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👻🎃 It's spooky season! 🎃👻
ROs reactions to an MC who gets very scared/anxious watching scary movies? Like to the point of hiding their faces in the ROs necks or insisting they can't sleep by themselves after?
(Sorry this took so long! But it’s still spooky season so I’m not too late, haha.)
S: They find it incredibly endearing. They have watched you, time and time again, put yourself in harm’s way with real-life dangers. And yet, fictional horror stories (often with questionable acting) are what gets your blood really pumping. “You do realise we could turn this off, right, darling?” They muse, with a smile. “I certainly have no qualms about turning it off.” If you insist you enjoy horror movies despite them scaring you, S sighs but leans back and throws an arm around you, pulling you tight into their chest.
“Well then, I’m right here, love.”
Rain: Rain also gets frightened at horror movies. You’ll both be huddled under blankets as you peek over them to watch the movie and when the tension reaches its crescendo, you’ll dive underneath, pulling the blankets entirely over your head. Rain will try to act braver for your benefit. “I-It’s okay, MC. We’re fine. It’s not real.” But the whole time, their voice is wavering and their hands shaking.
Taj: Taj is amused. They don’t even watch the movie, are too busy watching every twitch and every flinch, and are just waiting for the next jumpscare to get you. Taj will let you do whatever you want to them to make you feel better, just as long as they can chuckle or smirk in return. Dig your nails into their skin when you jump? Sure. Punch them in the arm as a reflex whenever the jumpscares make you jump? Okay, but Taj is going to laugh. Then, when it’s over, Taj will pull you in tight as you lay together on the couch.
“None of that was real, Koel,” they whisper sincerely. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
N: They do not know what to make of this particular anxiety of yours. You are deathly afraid of horror films yet willingly choose to put one on? And why? Why are you afraid of something unreal when sitting beside a Demon prince of Hael? There are literal horrors in your life. They puzzle over this every time you flinch at something happening onscreen. They put it down to the strangeness of humans, and they won’t deny it feels nice when you tuck your face into the crook of their neck to hide away.
“Come here, my dear. This big, bad demon will keep the monsters at bay.”
Umbra: They don’t understand why you put yourself through such a thing. They hate seeing you distressed, but it feels nice when you tuck yourself in closer to them, gripping his shirt, or taking their hand when you feel anxious. It’s a reminder you feel safe with them. They never believed it would happen, but the proof is right here. Whenever the horror onscreen makes you jump, yelp, or shake… Umbra’s hand begins to itch. They have to consciously remind themselves it isn’t real. There is no real threat to you. They are grateful when the movie ends.
“Shall I get some ice-cream? You always say ice-cream helps everything.”
#ask answer#taj#umbra knight#nazu raumon#naera raumon#rain#simon selby#simone selby#interactive fiction
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The Ends Justify The Means
As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman
"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."
Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.
I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.
Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."
"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"
"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."
I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.
"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."
----------------------------------------------
"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.
"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.
Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."
I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.
"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
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Doctor Strange Master List
🥵 - smut, 🥰 - fluff
remember, my ask box is open for requests and ideas. I’m always in a mood to write, and I would love to add to my collection
all of the dividers i use were created by @cafekitsune, please check out their work!
Your Voice Consoles Me: 6.4k+ words - 🥰
(Part One): F!reader is up late again, thinking about Stephen after losing him in the blip. (Part Two): F!reader aids in the battle of New York, reuniting with Stephen
You Made Her Shine: 15k+ words - 🥰
(Part One): The reader confides in Stephen during one of the most difficult times of her life. (Part Two): Stephen takes the reader out on a date, wanting to remind her just how much she means to him. (Part Three:) Stephen and the reader thought they could enjoy their engagement in private. When all of New York picks up wind of their engagement, the Reader decides it's time to face the problem head on. (Part Four:): Weddings are meant to be nice days full of fun, a little bit of stress, and loads of romance. It was certainly magical to say the least, but it was never supposed to end this way
Why Don’t You Run From Me: 5.8k+ words - 🥵🥰
(Part One): Stephen needs help getting back to his home universe. He runs into a variant F!reader and begins to question how he treats his F!reader (20 follower gift) (Part Two): Sinister tried to avenge the death of his beloved reader. Alternately in their appropriate universe, Stephen and the reader get a few things off their chests
Its Going Down, Down: 2.1k+ words
Variant!reader x Defender Strange, its a hurt story as the variant reader protects America
As Long As I’m Here: 1.9k+ words
Gender neutral reader is helped by Stephen after a fall and he takes care of their concussion
No One Loves Like Ghosts: 1.8k+ words
F!reader and Stephen find comfort in each other, confessing their feelings (50 followers request from Anon)
Can You Feel My Heart: 3.4k+ words
Doctor Strange Supreme needs more power to achieve his goals. Will he take them from the reader? Or will he find himself in an all too familiar situation?
I Can’t Deny The Way I Feel: 1.9k+ words
Stephen writes a love letter to the F!Reader (100 followers gift)
Can You Hear The Silence?: 2.9k+ words
Stephen rushes to save his wife while caught up in battle
Dancing Beneath the Stars: 4k words
838 Stephen and the reader admit their feelings over some drinks and a bucket of ice at the staff party
Let Me Adore You: 1.7k+ words - 🥵
Stephen and his fiancé, F!reader, have some alone time after the events of DSMOM
See What You can Take: 2.4k+ words - 🥵
the female reader is overworking herself and needs some relief, Stephen has a few ideas. (69 followers gift)
Dark Paradise: 4.5+k words - 🥵
Sinister Strange wants to show the F!Reader that the death of her Stephen doesn’t mean its the end of her happiness
#marvel#doctor strange#doctor strange x y/n#doctor strange x reader#doctor strange fanfiction#strange supreme x reader#doctor strange supreme x y/n#doctor strange supreme x reader#doctor strange supreme#sinister!strange x y/n#sinister strange x y/n#sinister!strange#sinister!strange x reader#sinister strange x reader#stephen strange x reader#stephen strange fanfiction#dr stephen strange
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Alastor x F!Overlord!Reader
AN: this is the result of the first poll I posted, Alastor won so here we are!
I’ve kinda broken this into two bits in this one shot, there’s a warning farther down if you want to keep within the ideas of “headcannon” but farther below I have the start of a story, I got a bit carried away and am too far gone to delete it.
⚠️Warnings: mentions of blood, death, weapons, smoking, maybe 1 instance of cannibalism ( but its more in the sense of revenge rather than a canabalistic reader) (idk man it’s hell if your triggered don’t read 😭) this is really long already so I might just break it up or continue it to make a part 2. I have a LOOOOOOT of references in here to so many things, if you guys can pick up on them leave a comment and I’ll tag list you in my next fic if you want! Or don’t I honestly couldn’t care less it’s just for fun :p
Reader is referred to with afab terms.
Pt2-
================================
• In your life you tried to stay on “the right” path. Your parents raised you right, you tried your hardest to be nice, and where always on your best behavior, but after getting the short end of the stick for too long you kinda… loose it.
• You ended up in hell after a night out partying with some of your most valued clients, when you went to drive yourself home the heel of your stiletto got stuck under the gas pedal, as you tried to pull it out you took your eyes off the road and 💥 BAM 💥 you where hit by a large grocer truck.
•Opening your eyes to a red wasteland, the bright flash of lights and the smell of brimstone flood your senses. Looking down to try and gather your bearings you notice your whole body wasn’t (skn/tn) anymore… it was marble grey?
“Where… where am I?” I mumbled under my breath, trying to gather my surroundings, a bright flashing catches my eyes, a gigantic neon sign in the sky gives me my anwser…
“Welcome to Hell!!!”
“Hell…. I’M DEAD?!!!!” I groaned out through barred teeth and stood to my feet, looking around I saw definite signs, this was Hell alright. A blood red sky, fires everywhere, little sinners running around stabbing and shooting one another.
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, ALL MY WORK, MY SHOPPING EMPIRE, MY CLOSET, MY AWARDS, MY EVERYTHING, RAAAAAAHHH!!!” In my anger I grabbed the nearest sinner and threw them to the ground, putting my foot between their shoulder blades and grabbing their arms.
“You’re gonna tell me right now, what the hell is going on, WHY AM I DEAD AND HERE-” I shouted in their ear, seeing blood come out… oh shit I probably burst their ear drum… oh well, I’ve done that plenty of times to my assistants.
“D-d-do you mean, like in hell, or or just this area?” They questioned nervously. To be fair they were a scrawny little thing…
“What in the-“ I paused to look around, then referred back to this little shit “actually HELL are you talking about?”
“W-w-well, you must, *gulp* you must be new here, huh?” It asked with a weary smile and a weak little laugh, probably trying to ease the tension. “Well, down… down here, we uh, we have overlords who- who rule certain areas, we’re in Ms.Leefolt’s t-t-t-territory right now, I mean, our king Lucifer, Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar rule all of hell…”
“Well, that certainly is… intresting.” I smirk and stand up, releasing his arms but not letting my foot off his back. “So these, overlords… are they appointed by your king, or born into or something?” I question with a sharp red nail in between my teeth, thinking…
“No, no ma’am just, just anyone who’s ballsy enough to, to, take over enough territory and have enough demons- sell them their souls in exchange for something. Umm- if it’s not too much of a bother, could you let me go… I- I can feel my ribs crushing under me…” it started wheezing out and trying to get a hand under its chest to place a barrier between their chest and the ground.
“Hm, well if that’s all true, I can’t let some little thing like you going around gossiping about me.” I growled looking down at this freak… pressing my heel into his spine harder.
“No! No please, I won’t say a thing I promise!! Just let me go, please… pleas-“
SPLAT-
“Whoops, my bad, I slipped.” I reasoned, pulling my now bloody leg out of his torso.
“Ohh, eeeeeew eweweweweweweeew, I’ve got bits of his, ugh, lung on my heels.” Flicking away the bits of organ from my shoes, I take a breath and another look around but this time in a planning sense. Overlords huh, well, I’ll just have to see how much this ‘miss leefolt’ likes the taste of arsenic, I wonder when the last time she had a homemade pie was….
• So of course to establish some dominance in my new living arrangement, I gutted that bitch from the inside out. I took her territory, her power, her souls, even her manor. When I went to her office to kill her I found the deed to her house and all the contracts of sinners who gave her their souls in a pretty shittily hidden safe.
• I mean, I had to work so hard to build my life up just for a stupid grocer to end it all, so this is fine… right?
• The years go by and the world changes, you became one of the most powerful and influential overlords in hell, re-establishing your power once held on earth to a business in hell. Rosie and Velvet quickly becoming your closest friends, Velvet in a more business sense and Rosie being your go to gossip gal. Both of you having elegant and refined tastes. You and Husk became friends over talking shit in a casino one night, and remained friends after his downfall. He talks to you about this, radio demon, from time to time but you haven’t heard much of him
Little do you know he knows almost everything about you~
• Your walking around Cannibal Town one day waiting for Rosie to finish a meeting, watching children run around and little carts selling all kinds of body related snacks.
I lost a bit of my sense of surrounding and almost tripped on a kid running around with his friend throwing a head back and fourth.
"Jerermy! Stop playing with your lunch and apologize to that nice lady you almost ran into."
"Sorry miss, I didn't mean too." He said looking down at the head ashamedly, then offering me a piece of the cheek. "Would you like some of this face? It's really good." He looked up at me with an excited look. "Oh thank you, but I'm waiting for lunch with my friend, I'll go to the butcher and get some though, it looks really good." I smiled my pointy teeth at him, patted his head and motioned him back to his mother, she waved to me and I nodded my head back, thinking it was time for Rosie to be done by now.
"My my, with your reputation of anger issues I would assume you would tear that poor child into bits upon realization." A staticky voice spoke behind me, tilting my head back but not my body as I don't know who it is. I look him up and down, his outfit and cane/staff thingy give off quite the powerful impression. "My, mhm, reputation?" I pester raising my eyebrow.
"Ah-hahahaha, My name's Alastor, its quite a pleasure to finally meet you in person." He introduced reaching for the back of my hand to place a kiss. Him saying his name reminded me, I too finally recognized the name. "Oh, Rosie has told me much about you." The radio demon, his names been brought up many times around cannibal town since he frequented their shops and small town locals.
"Oh yes, Rosie is one of my dearest friends" He replied linking our elbows and started walking towards the shop. "Mine as well, she is quite the darling, so let me ask you now, where you just standing there when I got to the park, or where you going to follow me in silence since I left the emporium~" He didn't stutter in his step but my revelation made the air feel a bit more, weary on his side. Reaching into my hand purse I grabbed my lipstick and hand mirror and paused my walk to apply a touch more. Looking just past my lips in the reflection I saw his eyes in the back corner snap to my down, then back up to my eyes with a tight smile. "Well, are you coming? I know Rosie hates to be kept waiting." I snapped it shut and outreached my elbow waiting for him to link his so that we could start the traverse back to Rosie's.
• After our little group luncheon with Rosie, Alastor and you didn't verbally indicate that you were closer in any sense. But physically you swayed like two tree's. Brushing branches back and fourth with the breeze, restless and apart yet labeled as "together"
• You started doing weekly business deals, him acquiring land and souls for you, and all he asked in returns is he uses that land and those souls as he pleases. Which honestly isn't a lot. When he pulls people or their shadows to come help at the hotel- their mostly your people but he always sends them back to whence they came.
• He likes to pretend he doesn't necessarily care for being around you, however he's always looking for time you two can be together, or even thinking of each other. On his radio show he'll mention new shopping, eating, entertainment locations on your turf. He knows you listen when your able to. Sometimes he uses his power to let his station be the only one playing where ever you are. In the car, in a shopping store, you could be sitting in the bathroom and it would get to the point where you can hear it from the vents. Making you roll your eyes and finish your business so you could get to your office to listen to the radio.
• Truth be told... you where falling to his whims as well. Alastor didn't necessarily have "territory" but many places in one area he had influence in and quite often frequented. When you had rips or damage to your very expensive very delicacy clothing you would walk with him to the seamstress, and afterwards you would often get tea or lunch together. Maybe he knows a good diner or two and ya’ll will sit there and eat, then get a milkshake (mostly bc you wanted one, he just indulges to make you happy though he doesn’t care for the cold sweet taste) and drink it through two straws, awwwwwwwwwwwwe!!
• When either of you knew of prestigious events happening around you invite the other to be your plus one. You go shop together to find outfits for the occasion. You started attending overlord meetings together, with yourself sat on the opposite side of Rosie, sending each other glances and touches under the table whenever Rosie wasn't looking or walked away for a brief moment. At the events you stay close together and often stand away from the crowd, whispering and gossiping together, allowing yourself a to drink silly, little do you know how well he can hold his liquor and often will be the one making sure YOU get home. Sometimes you wake up still dressed, like the gentleman he is, and sometimes you’ll wake up in some red pajama set…. Like the gentleman he is, he’s not gonna let you sleep in an uncomfortable outfit. But he’s respectful about it.
• He often send subliminal messages through your radio to help you fall asleep, to push you to coming to see him, to maybe just stay in your town if he knew something really bad was going on outside. His favorite to do is when your falling asleep he’ll play the calmest songs from his time to comfort you as you drift off.
• When he officially asked to court you he compared you to the beautiful crimson of the sky, saying your cheeks where more bright and delightful to gaze at then the morning sky, when it was particularly bright. All kinds of poetic gestures, sending crows to your windows, sending your gifts of bodies with knives in them, and the knives had small notes left for you on some quote from a book you like. Now how he knows those are your favorite books are beyond you…. you don’t talk about your books much but, maybe he’s seen you reading it at some random point in time? Who knows, not you.
• He’s all in all not a bad partner, of course when you want to go out he usually goes along with what you want to do but if there’s something he refuses to do, his claws are sinking into your arms to keep you from dragging him to do it.
• His smile is genuine around you and you adore when he lets you pet his ears~ he’s not that intimate early on in the relationship but when your just sitting on a couch or watching the sun set from somewhere and you just reach over and pet his ears, he is putty in your hands, physically he keeps his compose fairly well but inside he’s willing to do anything to keep you touching his ears, telling himself he would sell YOU his soul if it meant you wouldn’t stop, petting his ears and helping him groom his antlers, don’t even get me started on the tail… oh wait he’s already got something going on with that… well darn… hopefully you will keep accepting his caring actions rather than push them away.
——-STOP reading here if you don’t want to get into the more “story line” of this idea, if you want more of a story KEEP READING——-
• One night some sinner had gotten into your liquor stash and drank himself ditzy, you chased him into an ally way, looking to end his fucking life. Most of those where gifts from clients that most likely had aphrodisiacs and at the time where trying to get down your pants, but he drank from one of the few special bottles Alastor had gifted you and you went ballistic. You ended up catching him and killing him, and taking a tip from Rosie and ripped some of his limbs off, letting yourself indulge in the taste of warm, liquor filled blood. When you came too you realized you didn't know where you had chased him. Now covered in blood, liquor, rain, mud and whatever mess you stepped in on your way over. Seeing the iluminating lights of the sign for the Hazbin Hotel, your only thought was to try and get to Alastor.
*knock knock knock*
*creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*
"Oh! Oh my gosh, hi! Come in Come in. " An ecstatic girl ushered you inside, making a towel appear seemingly out of nowhere and helping you dry off. "I'm Charlie, whats your name?"
"Oh, how rude of me" I respond trying to shake off my chills, my nose starts to get a bit runny. "Uhm I'm Y/N, I don't mean to sound intrusive- uh is Alastor here?" I ask hesitantly, not wanting to just barge in but after the night I've had I wasn't in too much of a mood for pleasantries.
"Oh yes! Here, why don't you sit at the bar, have some tea or water or something and I'll run up to his radio tower." She sat me down at a bar stool and walked away. The bartender was turned around already whipping me up something.
"So he's got you wrapped up here huh?" I inquired with a smirk, resting my hands under my chin and trying to keep a little composure. His wings ruffled a little bit before he reached for my favorite hell made brand of brandy, my cotten candy brandy, I'm not one for sweets but I love the zing it gives you. The kind where you loose your vision for a good 7 seconds.
"You haven't usually been one to be a stranger, what gives?" Husk asked turning around handing me my drink and a bowl of pretzels.
"Well when I saw you weren't at your usual gambling tables I didn't think to question it, thought you where maybe getting more chips... ooooor hooking up in the chip room.... ooooor selling even MORE of your soul, if that's even possible, maybe like your wings or your feathers or, like your body as a human shield in the next extermination, never thought you'd be here slinging drinks." I shrugged swirling my drinks around the glass before taking a sip.
Before he could respond he took a bit of a step back and growled really low and deep in his throat.
"Ah yes well he owed me a favor and since I took an investment in this hotel I needed a little work on it done." Alastor came up behind me with a warm towel wrapping it around my shoulders as the one Charlie gave me was wrapped around my waist keeping my legs warm... unfortunatly the sinner got caught at a bad time, I was in the middle of 'me time' before bed and was in my good silk nighty. Glad I walked to my office with my fuzzy robe and ballet slippers. I feel really warm and fuzzy, my heads all….. comfy now… is that static coming from Alast-
"Oh deerest your all wet, would you like to come up and I can help you clean up." He asked you shaking the towel on your shoulders helping you sit up. "Oh yes please" you responded looking at him with sad tired eyes.
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-
I took a sip of the warm tea Alastor had made me and laid back in the bath, taking it all in. I WAS just planning a quiet evening in at home, maybe snack on some treats I got in the Gluttony ring, watch some hells soap operas. Now I’m here, in my beau’s bathroom, relaxing… maybe I can convince him to let me up to his radio tower to listen to his late night show live, oh that would be fun. I wonder what it looks like up there? I’ve only ever seen his actual town house… a little ways away from town-
*CRASH *
“What the fuck?!” I sat up so fast I almost slipped, sitting on my butt… in the tub…. Shit did he spike my tea?
“Alastor? Is everything okay?” I asked loudly. Standing up carefully keeping three points of contact with the tub and the floor. I reached for a different robe he had given me, a soft red fluffy one, with (what I hope is faux ) fur along the collar and wrists.
Walking towards the bathroom door very carefully I cautiously reached for the shiny silver handle. Telling myself it’s okay but feeling a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach, and the handle was the top of the pit…
“Alastor?” I called out again, once more not getting an answer, bringing my hands to my mouth when I heard a large thump out there, trying to keeping my composure… oh what the hell they know I’m here already. I went to turn the handle what the door got pushed in, had I been able to see what happened I would’ve seen Alastor in his demonic form and it probably would’ve scared the actual shit outta me… but NOPE
I went to open the door when it got pushed open and a bright blue flash covered all of my vision and made me feel… kinda tried… but I’m awake, almost like I’m not in my body… it’s… really hard……. To keep my….. keep my eyes …………………………….………open…….
• You collapsed to the floor slowly breathing, in a trance, feeling some sharper claws pick you up bridal style, if you weren’t so dazed out you would see Alastor frozen in time… like a paused TV… unable to get to you, or subdue your captor. You still had enough conscience to hear a muffled voice talking to a phone~
“Yeah we got her… foil chains worke—“
“Get her ba-“
“…. Longer you take the quicker……….. flasher wears-“
• Last thing you could remember hearing before completing falling out was a radio scramble in your brain, the sound going from a hollow scraggly to a tight scraggle- like turning the tv in between stations………
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AN: WELLLLL WHAT DID YA THINK???? Did you skip to down here or did you read the WHOLE thing. I really hope ya’ll like this, I’m so excited to make part 2, and maybe 3 or 4 depending on how far this goes.
Thank you to anyone who reads this and interacts in any way shape or form!!! Even if it’s just reading :) HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY AND REMEMBER
REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM BUY GOLD BYYYYYYEEEEEE
#headcannons#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin husk#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel oneshots#short story#part 2?
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