#lament for the things we lost

[streettealee]

Madman’s Blues

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34986475/chapters/87132925

Madman’s Blues is the first book of a genderbent retelling of The Last Hours. And I want you to read it.

You’ve got body diversity among the now male cast (tell me you’re also tired of the cookie-cutter ab-ridden teens and up that permeate TSC and all the scrawny guys because heaven forbid a male-presenting love interest be as physically rounded as dearly beloved female characters), which also includes a short king and his scary (and tall) gf. We have plot that doesn’t hinge solely on miscommunication. Also: healthier lesbians. What more do I need to say. There are hot scenes, sad scenes, beautiful scenes, disturbing scenes, and pretty hilarious ones. 

The genderbent series is also complete, from Chain of Gold events all the way up to the end of Chain of Thorns. 

I’m sure a lot of you have already seen or read some of this (as you should), but I want to try and get others who haven’t to read too. This fic and this author, @thevagabondexpress, are what brought me into fandom again. Sure, TLH and TSC in general was the main thing, but I don’t think I would have had the confidence to continue to be here right now without the existence of this fanfic series. That means a lot of my own fics wouldn’t exist. 

So, read Madman’s Blues. Read on from there. And show the author some love. It doesn’t matter that it’s already complete - an author will always appreciate knowing they did something that matters to readers. 

[fictionadventurer]

I know I just said that we shouldn't categorize people in history, but when it comes to the presidential podcast, I do find myself sorting presidents into "good" and "garbage" piles based on how they treated their wife.

Good

Ulysses S. Grant gets top marks here. I'm not crazy about his wife, but he was, and they're cute together. She was sunny and upbeat enough to boost him through a lot of years of struggle, and he was devoted to both her and the children.

Theodore Roosevelt was a loving husband to both his wives and a ridiculously devoted father to all his children.

James Garfield starts out in the garbage pile because he married her without love and had an affair, but the way they both overcame that to fall deeply in love is a pretty beautiful redemption.

Woodrow Wilson seems to have had a pretty good relationship with his wife. I know less about them so this is a tentative classification, but she was willing to basically help run the country after his stroke, so it suggests there was something good there.

Garbage

Warren Harding reigns in the garbage can. Multiple unrepentant affairs with long-term mistresses.

FDR was already on pretty shaky ground in my mind, but once I learned he had an affair with Eleanor's secretary, and then Eleanor stayed with him through polio, and then at his death he was with this same secretary while Eleanor was away, he lost a lot of points.

Middle Ground

Lincoln and his wife had a pretty rocky relationship, but from what I can tell they tried to make it work and were planning on taking steps to improve things before his death.

Chester Arthur's wife hated that he was constantly away on political business, which gives him a lot of bad husband points, but also she did want that high-class, high-status lifestyle, and from what I can tell he did love her and had a lot of regrets after she died.

[castlephantom]

Only 2 lines from Castlevania: Lament of Innocence lost comic are:

1) Succubus telling to Leon this:

"You are also a badger in the same hole"

Like, girl. You literally insult Leon in front of his face. I'm not surprised if the Succubus enjoys the suffering of others, just like Walter.

2) Leon's line to Walter:

"I won't forgive you!"

That's a remake of the line: "Walter... I will never forgive you", or just a simplified version of it 🤔.

[onewordshy]

They're auctioning off a bunch of stuff from the Power Rangers show and I get why they're doing it since that series is dead and those costumes/prop pieces will degrade if left in a warehouse, so I'm not necessarily sad about that, but I am sad that it's all going to private collectors rather than museums.

I guess I'm sad about how shows like Power Rangers often have a massive impact on the cultural consciousness, but in a way that isn't considered "important" enough to merit any sort of serious cultural preservation of its artifacts. I don't like seeing niche forms of entertainment treated as disposable ephemera, and I think that one day we'll regret how much of our history we just let slip through our fingers.

[gaytobymeres]

i think the point of a university-level education is a bit lost on some of my course mates...

[fandomfloozy]

living proof that you can be an amy your whole life and then suddenly you wake up one day and you're a jo (in a sad way)

[235uranium]

kids these days are so spoiled. in my day we downloaded fansubs on some sketchy website and we liked it

[softquietsteadylove]

3rd- Kro has been keeping his eyes on Gil and noticed Gil on the market, he told Gil that he saw her with a lady— Gil said that it was her sister Sersi. But Kro insisted and described the lady with a blonde hair, pale skin, every detail that made Gil clench his fist. He said that although he was using his binoculars he could see how beautiful that lady is. Kro also described to him the treasure he caught days ago and it happens that how he described it is the same how he described the lady he said was with Gil and that made Gil even more mad.

Gilgamesh tried to mess with him asking if the treasure he caught was a human because he describes it very humanly, but Kro just laughed cornering Gil with the question where is the lady that he's with days ago. And then Thena suddenly submerging walking through Gil's back, she cameback and she went with the plan Gil instructed to her earlier ago (you decide what plan that is and reveal it here). Luckily Gil and Thena had manage to stay with the plan without getting suspicious. Kro walked through Gilgamesh and Thena tried hissing at him but Gil managed to soothe her for Kro not to notice something unusual with her. Kro said that he'll keep an eye on him but he's looking at Thena, and then they left.

I THINK IT'S A LOT, SO SORRY😭 AND THANK YOU!✨♥️

"Gil."

"Kro."

Gil grunted as Kro shoved him aside, marching into the house again. He wasn't here to dance around the subject, though. He had a wire in hand already, "where is she?"

Gil shut the door, keeping an eye on the muscleheads Kro had brought with him. "This again?"

"Nice try, Gil," Kro snarled at him, not waiting to get in his face this time. "I saw you."

"You're seeing me now, aren't you?" Gil sighed. He really didn't have any fight left in him.

Kro grabbed the front of Gil's shirt, shaking him, "at the market. I know it was you and your little catch, Gil--my catch."

Gil just looked at Kro.

Kro released him, taking up that same, sickening grin that made Gil's skin crawl the last time they had talked. "She is quite a catch, too, isn't she?"

Gil remained silent, watching as Kro walked around the kitchen. Just like before, nothing was out of place; Gil had made sure to put away any extras of anything. There wasn't another plate at the table, there wasn't another mug in the sink. Nothing that would give him the impression that someone else was there.

"Quite a beautiful thing, she is," Kro chuckled to himself. He ran his fingers along the wire looped around into the shape of a noose. "You can see why I'm looking for her, can't you? I don't see why you're fighting so hard when you clearly haven't sold her anywhere, either."

"Sold her?"

"Waiting for the right offer?" Kro postulated, skipping right over the horrific implication he was making. "I thought about calling some aquariums for it, but they would probably just pull the 'animal cruelty' card. But some of those water parks with the whale shows are still up and running. Maybe the big one in Florida would pay the right amount for her."

Gil gripped his fists so tight they ached. "You...were going to sell her?--to an amusement park?"

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings?" Kro laughed in his face. "Come now, Gil--a catch like her could make us billionaires!"

"Us?" Gil raised a brow at him.

"Look," Kro raised his hands to him, although the wire noose stayed around his elbow. "I know you're hiding her. I'm willing to make a deal. You surrender her to me, and I'll split the money for her with you. I'll even give you the five hundred thousand reward; consider it a deposit."

"I don't want your money."

"Everyone says that before they have it," Kro shrugged, still convinced that Gil had a price, all he had to do was find it. "You're telling me you're happy to drag yourself out to sea everyday of your life?"

"What I'm telling you-" Gil moved forward, grasping Kro's shirt this time. "Is that I'm not going to let you hunt down Thena for sport."

"Oh," Kro's eyes sparked in amusement. "You've fallen for the fish?"

"She's not a fish."

"A whale, then?" Kro cackled. "Or is she more like a dolphin?"

"She's a person, Kro," Gil released him, his eyes darting out the window towards his dock. "And she's back from work."

"What?"

Gil walked out of the house, freely ignoring the wall of muscle Kro had brought as backup. He continued his easy pace, even as Kro shot out of the house and ran ahead of him.

Sersi guided Gil's dinghy to the dock at a gentle pace. She secured its knot easily, although she had to grip the sides as Thena shot to her feet and scrambled out of the boat and onto the dock, "careful!"

Kro's jaw dropped as he watched Thena walk over to them, a dress floating around her legs, her feet bare and plain to see. "How-"

"Hey, Sweetheart," Gil smiled, although Kro would never be able to perceive the tentative nature of it. He breathed out a shaky sigh as Thena ran to him, allowing him to fold his arms around her. He buried his nose in her hair, "I missed you."

"This is impossible!" Kro snarled at them. He raised a hand to inspect the mirage before him but Gil pulled her closer to him.

"Hey man, you can't just touch women you don't know," Gil chided as he would if they were in a petty squabble in the pub. He grasped Thena's shoulder.

"Kro," Sersi greeted rather dryly as she also walked up the dock towards them. "I see you've beaten yet another illegal poaching charge."

"What did you do?" Kro turned on her, ready to tower over her as he pleased.

"Hey!" Gil moved to block his sister from the monster of a man, only for Thena to beat him to it.

Sersi smiled as the blonde planted herself next to her. "I see you've met my colleague, Thena. She works at one of the marine wildlife posts in the Bering Sea. It's awfully lonely out there, but her year long outpost is finally over."

"Her what?"

Sersi held Thena's hands in hers. "I was so happy to be able to visit her and Gil here. I even met her friends."

"Friends?"

"Oi!"

Kro leaned over the side of the dock, further aghast at the two people seated in Gil's dinghy. One was a lithe little woman, her legs stretched out at odd angles in soft looking yoga pants, and a menacing grin on her face. The other was a man, with a blanket over his legs but with boots and a heavy jacket on. "Wh-"

Ikaris glared up at him, "you givin' my sister a hard time up 'ere?"

Kro looked from the two in the boat back to Thena, whose legs were also undeniably there and functional. "This is impossible."

"What is?" Thena tilted her head at him (worsening Gil and Sersi's underlying anxiety about the whole thing).

Kro stood, walking back over to them. Gil and Sersi flanked her but Thena held his eyes. "I know it was you. You looked at me just like this when you were in that net."

Gil's fist tightened at Thena's back.

Thena tipped her chin up, though, a far ways away from cowering from him. She withheld herself from hissing at him, though. "Are you in the habit of stringing up human women in nets?"

"That sounds awfully suspicious, Kro," Sersi asserted as firmly as she could. "I would hate to have to tell people that you're an entirely different kind of predator."

"I wouldn't," Gil added.

Kro backed up just a step, but it was a step in the right direction. "I will get you for this. I don't know how you did it, but I will find you again, and you won't get away next time."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Gil shook his head at him, "don't say stuff like that to people!"

Kro turned, storming back up the hill and towards the far side of the island where he had parked his own motorboat. The wall of muscle followed him, seeing they wouldn't be transporting anything.

Gil and Sersi both let out positively gut-deep sighs of relief. Thena blinked at both of them.

Sersi held onto Thena, her knees wobbling, "that's enough excitement for one lifetime."

"I can't take this," Gil gasped on Thena's other shoulder.

"Is he gone?!"

Thena smiled letting the fretful siblings lean on each other and ride out the adrenaline in their systems. She leaned over to look down at her own fretful sibling. "He's gone."

Ikaris threw himself in the water without a second of hesitation. They never did manage to get pants on him, since his legs were just barely formed enough anyway. He had protested that he wasn't exactly given much time to learn and practice!

Makkari also descended back to the water and let her legs form back into her red scaled tail. She resurfaced, looking around her at the remains of the yoga pants Thena had wrestled onto her. Sorry.

Sersi rejoined Thena, waving, "don't worry, they served their purpose. Thank you for all your help."

Makkari smiled and waved at the rather funny and agreeable human. She had enjoyed the boat ride over chatting with Sersi. She looked at Ikaris, well, Loverboy?

He hissed at her. Thena raised her brows as he looked at Sersi in a peculiar way. "Thank you for helping to protect my sister. I am indebted to you."

Ikaris and Makkari both swam off, not particularly eager to stick around.

Sersi waved until they disappeared from view. She looked at Thena, "he seems rather nice."

Thena gave her a positively baffled look, "Ikaris?"

Gil rolled his eyes behind her, "speaking of rather nice, how is Dane?"

"Oh!" Sersi shot to her feet, dusting off her knees with a sheepish smile, "h-he's good--asked me to say hello."

"Hm," Gil smirked at his flustered sister, although she swatted at him for it. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, forcing her to endure a side hug from him, "thanks for coming, Serse."

Sersi sighed from within the coil of his arm, "of course I would! I can't believe you didn't tell me about this sooner!"

"Thinks he can handle everything by himself."

Sersi grinned at Gil's look of devastation at Thena's jab. She pulled Thena into a hug, "he does, doesn't he?"

"Stick around, join us for dinner," Gil gave his sister's shoulder a little pat. He nodded behind him at the house.

Sersi looked between the two and nodded, heading up to the cabin by herself.

Gil, finally alone with Thena, sighed. He tilted his head, trying to get a look at her, "Angelfish?"

She looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes. "Your plan worked."

"Well," he sighed, daring to stretch out a hand to her. She let him take hers, and immediately she felt some of his muscles loosen. "Bringing Sersi with you was what really made it work."

Thena accepted the truth of it silently, waiting for more.

Gil moved closer, "I'm so sorry, Thena. I should have asked you from the beginning what you wanted to do. Neither of us would have had to go through this."

Thena swayed on the spot. She had been waiting to hear those words, but her chest tightened, like after she would let Ikaris swim into a particularly dangerous set of caves. "I...understand why you did what you did."

Gil pulled her closer by the waist, fully holding her in his arms. She sighed into his chest, having missed the warmth of him, the scent of his shirt, the solidity of his arms around her. "Still, you were right, and I won't forget that."

Thena happily melted into him, having gotten the apology she wanted. "I missed you too."

Gil nuzzled into her, "Angelfish, you have no idea how much I missed you. It's so lonely here; I don't know how I lived out here before you."

Thena soaked up his affectionate words like a happy little seasponge. She purred, "poor, lonely Mister Human."

"I know, I know," he chuckled, not separating from her much to look at her as he spoke. "No more, though. I want you here, with me."

Thena dashed her eyes to the end of the dock coyly, "what if I rather liked being able to swim freely again?"

"Then you can," Gil rushed to promise, burying his face in her neck again. "I'll keep a light at the end of the dock and I'll keep your safe box stocked for you, always. But-"

"Gil," Thena laughed, tipping his head up again. He looked frightened, "I want to be here, too--with you."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she inhaled at the sensation she had been dreaming of feeling for the last few days. She blinked as he moved his lips from her forehead to her cheek. It felt different, but in kind of a nice way.

"Come on," he said gently, holding her hand ever so delicately in his, like when she was first getting used to being on land. "I'm making your favourites, and there are plenty of sardine snacks."

Thena happily joined him in walking up the hill, hand in hand. She caught Sersi's head - clearly watching them from the kitchen window - ducking down to avoid them. She felt her cheeks warm.

"I was going to go get some mangoes," Gil started, and she immediately looked at him with excitement. He offered a sheepish shrug, "but I thought...maybe you could come with me to get them?"

"Go to the market again?" Thena bounced on her toes (she had come a long way in her balance on land).

"Yep," he grinned at her enthusiasm, pulling her hand up to his lips. "We can take our time and enjoy the day in town, I can show you some more of the sights. What do you think?"

Thena leaned up, mimicking what Gil had done previously and touched her lips to his cheek. It turned a charming pink colour; maybe the nerves in the body could tell when lips touched different parts? "It sounds perfect!"

[callixton]

i miss jude....... jude if u are still on tumblr at all i miss u sm <3

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[awkward-teabag]

I hate the idea that a company should always be in growth mode and that mass layoffs, sorry, restructuring is something that should happen at set intervals. Steady profits are still profits and people will be less inclined to work or get invested in their work if they have to keep an emergency backup job in the back pocket no matter how good their work is.

To say nothing about how it limits social bonding 'cause there's only so many times you can go through seeing friends lose their job and have survivor's guilt or vice versa, or how since it's a known occurrence it means you know you're competing directly with friends.

Of course that's the point, along with the business idea that employment should follow the Pareto Principle even though it's pop science, demonstrably false, and an intentional misunderstanding of what was really an observation of coincidences.

And of course that means you're constantly shedding people who have knowledge, skills, and training to "streamline" things or to "increase production speed" when overworking already overworked employees and throwing greenhorns into it does the exact opposite.

It's not about making the company better, it's about making unionizing harder, paying people less, making it seem like the company is doing something, and giving the execs and shareholders more money.

While overworking those who kept their jobs.

[buttercuparry]

I know I sound like a broken record by now: repeating the same things others have said before but I think banality of it all is the point of my post. The fact that I have nothing new to say– not about the genocide in Gaza, not about the dwindling attention of allies, is HORRIFYING. 

It has been 11 months of a genocide that the UN calls “war on children”. Malnutrition, diseases, lack of suitable medical care have caused Gazan children to lose their childhood; to lose their lives entirely!  

There is no hope left for a future unmarked of pain and my friend Siraj Abudayeh ( @siraj2024 ) , who is father to three sons describes it as a “feeling of oppression”.  He laments that his children have been forced away from their schools, hopes and dreams  by colonizers and where before there were ambitions to excel in either studies or sports, all they know now is helplessness, fear and anger. 

Siraj has told me how his children- Abed, Muhammad and Amir have confessed to their father about how they have begun to  feel guilty for surviving at all now ; after having lost so many of their friends to the genocide they are experiencing survivor's guilt and it breaks my heart to hear that. Abed, the eldest son, is ONLY ELEVEN!!  Can you imagine an eleven year old feeling guilty because he has managed to survive while his friends haven't ? And what kind of survival it is– Half starving, drinking unclean water, forced into tents where sand mites pester him throughout the day?

I am not sure what happened or why the engagement with fundraisers has dropped so drastically lately but there is nothing more atrocious, more horrible than apathy when children are suffering.  It is so strange that we can quote James Baldwin so easily and yet have failed to understand what he meant when he said,

"The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe; ...whoever is incapable of recognizing this may be incapable of morality. ”

We have the power that is not afforded to Gazans and therefore it is on us to be attentive no matter how repetitive these posts feel. It is ridiculous and dehumanizing that during a genocide one has to worry about making a post original enough to maintain attention. And yes I know that we won't be able to stop the horrifying banality of Israel’s evil in a day but WE CAN help provide FIVE families that are dependent on this fundraiser with a lifeline during times such as these.  

Please we have managed to get this far after struggling for so long, it cannot be that we will fail Siraj when he is so close to the end goal of 82k !!

So DONATE AND BOOST. Find it in yourself to not just reblog but circulate the fundraiser among your colleagues, friends and family. Share it in your whatsapp chats and discord servers. Share it on every other platform that you may have a reach on.

Currently at $72,987 CAD of the short term goal of 75k. We have 2k left to raise by tomorrow. 

Vetting at 219

[zephyrchama]

It was dinnertime in the House of Lamentation. Conversation petered out as everyone focused on the hot food in front of them, leaving a quiet lull interrupted only by clinking silverware.

“I’ve always wanted a traditional church wedding,” you said, entirely unprompted.

The clinking came to a stop as the seven brothers processed what you had just said. They turned their eyes towards you.

Beelzebub was the first to break the silence despite his mouth full of food. “Huh?”

“I just always thought it would be nice. A quaint wedding in a nice little church. Maybe a chapel.”

Leviathan briefly choked on what he was chewing.

“Oh I totally get it!” Asmodeus empathized. “Rows of pews with white flowers, those high arched ceilings, the evening light of the human world sun shining on us through a beautiful stained glass window as we kiss? Oh!” He clutched his shoulders, “it gives me chills just imagining it!”

“Asmo, we can’t enter churches,” Satan stated matter-of-factly. The knife handle gripped in his fist started to bend.

“Hah!? What? Lucifer, is that true?” Mammon slammed his fork down and just about jumped out of his chair as he shouted at the oldest.

“Sit down, Mammon.” Lucifer rubbed his temple and tried to perform damage control before the inevitable headache set in. “What brought this on suddenly?” he asked you.

Keeping a straight face was immensely difficult but you pulled it off. “I was just thinking about weddings and stuff, y’know. It’d be nice. Ever since I was little I thought a church wed-”

Belphegor interjected with “You’re not even that religious.”

A flood of complaints washed over the table as everyone started loudly protesting.

“You… You’re not allowed to get married anywhere without me!” Leviathan shouted.

“Does it have to be a church? What about a restaurant instead?” Beel suggested, looking worried. “I know a lot of pretty ones.”

“We could build a mock church in a studio and get married there,” Asmo fantasized. “The stained glass could be you and me as cherubs, we can ask Luke to be the flower boy. He’d be so cute in a little tux!”

“You wouldn’t even need a ceremony with me,” Belphegor said. “If you really want one, we can have it outdoors under the stars.”

Satan’s knife was bent at a 90-degree angle. “What a stupid thing to say. Libraries are just as quiet and nice as churches. Probably. They sure suit you better than a church.” 

“The restaurants also have in-house catering,” Beel continued.

“That ain’t gonna happen!” Mammon bounced his knee, shaking the entire table as he lamented, “I ain’t lettin’ my human get married in some church! We can go anywhere you want! Anywhere else!”

”There’s a church in my game!” Leviathan gasped. He thought an in-game wedding would be just as good as a real one. “I can show you! We can go now! Lets make you a character!”

Lucifer cleared his throat once. Then twice. The third time was a warning that got lost amid all of the whining. “Enough,” he finally growled. The room went silent for him. “You’re not getting married in a church. End of discussion.”

“Oh.” Weird of him to decide that on his own, but you were at your limit. A wide grin had already spread across your face. “Yeah, ok. By the way this roast you made is delicious.”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Wearing Their Clothes

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers' reactions to seeing you wear an article of their clothing.

Of all the things that surprised you in the Devildom, one of the biggest shocks was the fact that it had weather just like the Human Realm. Of course, there were many representations of what “Hell” looked like. You just never saw one that showed it raining or snowing there. So, when large snowflakes started falling, to say you were both shocked and confused would be an understatement.

You were still at RAD when it started snowing. There had been a mandatory student council meeting; and, afterwards, Lucifer had asked you to stay behind and help him with some paperwork.

Diavolo had asked Lucifer to have the exchange students fill out a survey on how their time in the Devildom had been so far; and, since you were already with him, he thought yours would be the easiest to fill out.

He was pleasantly surprised when you had nothing but praise to give Lucifer. He wore a proud smile as you talked about how much you’ve been enjoying your time in the Devildom. He loved hearing you talk about it - each commendation making him feel the all-too-familiar emotion that had been bestowed upon his demon form. 

He was having such a great time, in fact, that he didn’t realize how late it had gotten until he looked out the window and noticed how dark it was outside. 

“We must have lost track of time,” Lucifer told you before offering to walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Not that you had a choice in the matter. After all, it was far too dangerous for you to walk back by yourself.

The second you stepped outside of RAD, you immediately regretted it. The cold air bit at your skin as the snow continued to fall. You cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket; but, how were you supposed to know that it was going to snow in the Devildom today.

You walked silently alongside Lucifer, doing your best to keep your teeth from chattering. Lucifer studied you as the two of you walked. You were usually more chatty. Was something wrong?

He looked at your appearance. Your complexion was flushed, your body slightly shivering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow as suddenly he understood what was happening - you were cold.

Lucifer was immediately taking off his large fur cape and offering it to you. The gesture warmed your heart, but you declined. He needed it or else he would be cold - you argued. Lucifer would make an argument about how much more fragile humans were than demons and then tell you, “Besides, I can’t have you die from the cold. It would be a bad look for Lord Diavolo.”

You chuckled at his words before agreeing, realizing Lucifer wasn’t going to back down. He helped place his cape over your shoulders, securing it in place. You were immediately thankful for the warmth the cape provided - the color almost instantly returning to your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you in his cape - the sheer size of it nearly enveloping your entire body. The snow fell on top of you, your hair and eyelashes being coated in white. You looked beautiful. 

Lucifer admired you the whole way home, hoping that it would snow more often in the Devildom so that he could see you in his cape more often.

Mammon liked to spend a lot of time in your room. After all, he was your “first” so why shouldn’t he be allowed in there whenever he liked. He would spend countless hours in there with you. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, as long as you were hanging out. Some nights, by the time you were done, it would be so late that he would just stay the night in there.

So, it was no surprise when he accidentally left one of his shirts in your room. It was just a plain, black t-shirt. Nothing truly identifiable about it. Because of that, you had accidentally mistaken it for one of your shirts. 

Mammon however knew the difference. He had been looking for that shirt, not knowing where he had misplaced it.

He came to check for it in your room, barging in without knocking. “Oi, Y/N,” he began but stopped realizing the room was empty. He heard the faint sound of water running coming from the bathroom and realized you were taking a shower. He sat down on your bed, deciding to wait for you.

He scrolled on his D.D.D. for a while until the water turned off. Then a few minutes later, you came out of the bathroom - wearing his shirt.

Mammon felt his heart stop as his eyes were glued to you, his D.D.D. long forgotten about. You were surprised to see Mammon sitting in your room and you were about to say something when you noticed the deep red blush that coated his cheeks as he sat there looking incredibly flustered. “Mammon, are you okay?”

He wouldn't answer your question. Instead, he asked, “I-Is that my shirt?!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the black shirt you were wearing, now recognizing it as his. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you told him.

Mammon was a mess. The shirt clung to your body in the best way possible, leading Mammon’s mind to wander to different images of you in that shirt…and out of it. Noticing his expression you said, “I can change.”

“N-No!” Mammon said, jumping off the bed now. That was the last thing he wanted. Realizing his slip-up, Mammon tried to quickly cover his tracks by saying, “Just be grateful that the great Mammon is letting ya wear his clothes!”

When he does get his shirt back, he immediately notices that it smells like you, something that makes him smile. He will never wear it again or wash it. 

Levi was never supposed to find out.

You were doing a cosplay outfit for one of your favorite animes. You had made several videos online and had gotten a decent amount of likes. You loved it and the amount of online support you got encouraged you to do more and more outfits.

Well, it just so happened that the character you were trying to portray had a specific blue and orange jacket. It was pertinent to the character; but, you had nothing similar. So, you began brainstorming ideas on what you could do to try and replicate the clothing item.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you. You had seen Levi wearing a jacket with the same colors. It wasn’t an exact match but it would be close enough. 

You took in a deep breath as you made your way to the coat closet in the House of Lamentation, praying it was there. 

To your luck, when you opened the door, amongst the miscellaneous other coats, it was hanging up in the closet. You let out a small breath of relief. You reached your hand out to take the jacket but hesitated. Levi would probably freak if he saw you wearing his jacket. But, you really needed it.

You debated the pros and cons of taking the jacket.. One on hand, if you went and asked Levi if you could borrow the jacket, he would most likely mumble something about normies before declining out of embarrassment. Then you would be out of luck. However, if you just borrowed the jacket for a few minutes - just to make the video. Then, you could put it back and he’d never know.

Deciding that was the best course of action, you quickly took the jacket and headed back up to your room. You put the jacket on as the finishing touch and looked in the mirror. Perfect.

You began recording the video, making sure to have the perfect lighting and angle. When you were done, you rewatched it, satisfied with the results. Alright, time to put Levi’s jacket back.

“Hey, Y/N, what-,” Levi suddenly came rushing into the room. Both of you froze in shock. Was that…his? “Levi!” you said, nervously looking at him. You had been caught.

“I can explain,” you told him as his eyes widened and a blush coated his cheeks. Not only were you wearing his clothes like some normie couple, but you looked good in it. 

“I was making a cosplay video and I needed to borrow it,” you admitted. “C-Cosplay?” Levi asked, stuttering out his words as he tried to comprehend the situation.

He let out a small scream as he recognized the character you were dressed up as. It was from one of the animes he recommended to you. His eyes then trailed to the video that was still playing on your D.D.D.

You slowly took off his jacket and handed it back to him, blushing slightly. “Sorry, for taking it without asking.”

Levi took the jacket, not sure what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Y-You’re missing the sunglasses.”

What? Levi looked back at the video again and you understood. Of course! You were missing the sunglasses for the cosplay. You knew you were missing something!

“I-I have a pair that might match,” Levi said, offering you back his jacket. If you were going to make a cosplay video, he was going to be part of it.

“That would be great!” you replied. Levi quickly left to retrieve the sunglasses as you put his jacket back on. He returned within moments, handing you the sunglasses. You put them on the way the character would and Levi asked if he could help you record the video to which you were unbelievably grateful for. 

Levi was smiling the whole time he helped. He couldn’t believe how talented you were in your impression of the character. More importantly, he couldn’t believe you were wearing his clothes!

You were sitting in Satan’s room reading a book while you waited for him to return. The two of you had been spending the afternoon together. You were reading one of your favorites, and he had been doing the same until about a few minutes ago. He had just finished his book and told you he was going to go to the library to get another book. He promised he would return shortly but it had already been several minutes.

You were huddled up underneath a blanket, but you were still cold. It felt like Satan’s room had no heat whatsoever. You let out a small sigh as you tore your eyes from the page, glancing around the room for anything that could help you warm back up. 

You couldn’t see any blankets, but you noticed one of Satan’s sweaters sitting not too far from you. You let out a small sigh as you turned the idea over and over in your head. He wouldn’t be mad if you borrowed it, right? Not if you told him you were cold. 

You wanted to ask Satan’s permission, so you waited a few more minutes, but when you realized he wasn’t going to be coming back for a while - you decided to risk it. 

You quickly jumped out of the blanket and moved over to the sweater. You picked it up carefully, admiring the material before slipping it over your head. You noticed that it smelt like Satan, the scent making you feel like you were enveloped in his arms. 

You clutched the sweater a little closer to you before moving back to your spot and huddling underneath the blanket. You opened your book back up to the spot you were at and got lost in the fictional world once again.

You were so distracted by the words on the page that you didn’t notice when Satan entered the room. He was about to announce his presence when he noticed the familiar article of clothing that you were wearing. 

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you wearing his sweater. You looked so adorable curled up under the blanket, reading a book, while wearing his clothes. It warmed his heart. Satan moved over to you, doing his best to hide his smile. 

He sat down next to you and you had completely forgotten that you were wearing his sweater. As if it was second nature to do so. “Did you find a book?” you asked him.

Satan nodded his head before telling you, “I’m really excited to see how this turns out.” You smiled in response, thinking he was talking about the book. He wasn’t so sure.

From now on, if you were in his presence and looked the slightest bit cold, he would immediately offer you his sweater, wanting to see you in his clothes more often.

Asmo was the resident fashion designer in the House of Lamentation. Whenever someone needed advice on an outfit, they immediately turned to him.; and, it was no secret why. His fashion advice was always on point. He could turn the dullest of outfits into a beautiful masterpiece. 

Tonight, Asmo had invited you to dinner at a new restaurant that had open. They asked him to attend with a plus one to bring more business. After all, he had tons of fans who would go to the restaurant just to see him.

Asmo had asked you to be his plus one, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Until he told you how many people would be looking at the two of you and taking pictures. Then, nerves set in as you began panicking about what to wear.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” Asmo comforted, taking you by your hand to your room. He would have you put on a mini-fashion show for him, trying on multiple different outfits to try and find the right one. But, nothing you had quite fit the vibe of the restaurant. 

Asmo thought for a moment, until he came up with an idea. He had the perfect outfit for you! Asmo quickly brought you to his room, pulling out the outfit and handing it to you. He ushered you into his bathroom, telling you to try it on.

When you did, you were surprised at how well it fit - and how good it looked. You stepped out of the bathroom and at first, Asmo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, a large smile spreading across his face.

“How do I look?” you asked after the silence began to grow awkward. Asmo tried to keep his composure as the thought of you wearing his clothes in public threatened to spark his sin. “That’s the one!” Asmo told you excitedly before helping you do your make-up. By the end of it all, the two of you looked like you had walked straight off the pages of a magazine. 

You made your way to the restaurant and when you got there, you were met with countless cameras. It seemed like everyone wanted to capture the restaurant’s grand opening.

Asmo grabbed your hand as the cameras started flashing, documenting yours and Asmo’s presence. He led you into the restaurant, his smile only growing larger as he thought about you wearing his outfit. The photos would forever document that you were wearing his clothes.

It was a complete accident. 

You had left the House of Lamentation while it was warm out, so you didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Who would?

Well, apparently, it was the biggest mistake you could have made because on your way home, you had found yourself in the middle of a rainstorm. You had no protection from it, the droplets soaking you from head to toe.

You began running to the House of Lamentation, letting out a sigh of relief as you made it to the front door. You quickly entered, thankful to be out of the storm. Then you heard someone behind you. “I see you forgot your umbrella.” You jumped as you turned around and saw Lucifer standing there.

A small blush coated your cheeks as you were embarrassed of the state you were currently in. Lucifer asked you to go to the laundry room so that you didn’t track water everywhere and you agreed, making a beeline towards the room.

When you got there, you quickly took off your wet clothes. You looked around the large room for your basket of laundry, confused when you couldn’t find it.

Then, you realized you had taken it to your room earlier to finish folding the clean clothes. Could this day get any worse.

So, here you were standing naked in the House of Lamentation's laundry room, contemplating how you ended up here. 

You had to come up with something quick before one of the brothers accidentally walked in on you. 

Looking to your right, you saw a large black t-shirt with a design on it. You quickly picked it up, examining it. You had seen Beel wearing it at some point. You held it up to you and noticed that it was so big compared to you. It would be enough to cover you until you could make it to your room. 

You quickly slipped Beel’s shirt on, double-checking that everything was covered before opening the door. All you had to do was make it to your room without being seen. Easy, right?

You turned out of the laundry room, immediately bumping into a large figure. The force caused you to stumble back as you felt two large arms steady you. You looked up to see Beel, looking at you like a confused puppy as he took in your appearance. 

You immediately began blushing as he asked, “Are you wearing my shirt?” Your mind tried to explain the situation, but your words merely came out as a series of stuttered words before you gave up. “It’s a long story,” you told him defeatedly.

Beel could see that you had a long day and he didn’t want to make it worse. So, he didn’t question you any further. Besides, he had to admit it made him feel flustered, seeing you in his clothes. He thought it was adorable how his shirt looked like it was going to swallow you up at any moment.

“Keep it as long as you need,” Beel told you with a small smile. You were thankful that Beel didn’t make things any more awkward as you pushed past him to go to your room.

Beel entered the laundry room to get the rest of his clothes and noticed your discarded clothes. His cheeks felt hot as realized that you were completely nude underneath his shirt. 

He did his best to push out intrusive thoughts as he made his way back to his room, his clean laundry in his arms.  

Revenge.

When it came to you and Belphie, you were sure that was the only reason you did anything anymore. 

Belphie liked to act like a brat and decided to do things he knew would frustrate you because he liked to see the way you would react.

So, he decided to start a prank war with you. But, you were not a pushover; and, you were going to make sure Belphie realized that once and for all. 

So, when he started pulling minor pranks. You let him think he was getting the best of you, until you had pulled a much larger prank on him. You had surprised Belphie with your creativity and your tenacity. But, he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Minor pranks turned into much more serious ones, the two of you so wrapped up in your war that you could hardly pay attention to anything else.

You had just pulled your latest prank of Belphie the day before. You were waiting anxiously for Belphie to pull his prank, constantly watching your back. 

He could strike from anywhere at any time. 

It was getting late, so you had decided Belphie wasn’t going to pull his prank today. You went to your bedroom to go to bed.

However, as soon as you opened the door to your room, you immediately regretted it as a large bucket off water poured on top of you. You let out a small gasp as your clothes were completely drenched. Really?!

You let out a small scoff as you immediately began thinking of retaliation pranks, making your way to your closet to change into a dry pair of clothes.

But, when you got there, you saw that the closet was completely empty. Belphie had taken all of your clothes.

You were fuming as you made your way to the Twin’s Room, bursting through the door to find Belphie in there by himself, lounging on his bed with a smile. 

“Where are my clothes?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belphie replied, smirking back at you.

“All of my clothes are gone,” you stated, knowing full well that he was the culprit. “It looks like you’ll just have to sleep in your wet clothes then,” Belphie replied, turning his attention to his D.D.D.

You glared at him, anger coursing through your veins. He was not winning this one. After realizing Belphie wasn’t going to give you your clothes back, you came up with a new idea.

“Fine,” you told him, marching over to his closet. Belphie tore his eyes away from D.D.D to look up at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching your every move.

“If I can’t wear my clothes, then I’ll just have to wear yours,” you replied, stripping your shirt off before putting his on. The rage you were feeling was clouding your mind to the point where you didn’t even realize you had just undressed in front of Belphie.

Belphie most definitely realized though, the image of your half-naked body being seared into his mind as he looked at you in shock.

You then changed into a pair of Belphie’s sweatpants and his cheeks were stained pink as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Luckily, the shirt had covered most of what he would have seen. But, his imagination was running wild. 

You turned to face him, wearing his clothes and his eyes traced every inch of you. You wore a satisfied smirk as you locked eyes. “Good night,” you stated, walking back out of the twins room, a blush on your cheeks at the way Belphie was looking at you. You won.

[luveline]

hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure

hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k

cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain

Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds. 

There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal. 

You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower. 

"Not this time, Pete." 

"Too bad," he laments. 

You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious. 

"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut. 

"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?" 

"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders." 

"You want me to wash your hair." 

"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg." 

You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?" 

"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money." 

"Anything else?" 

He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are. 

He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?" 

"You told me to stay, so I'm staying." 

He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?" 

"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?" 

"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing." 

Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.

It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink." 

"Wait–" 

He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it." 

"I'm just feeling icky," you confide. 

"About what?" 

You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?" 

He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, a little." 

He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips. 

"It doesn't suit me–" 

"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better." 

"Even when I was thinner?" 

"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor." 

"No, but you have to say that." 

"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious." 

You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin. 

"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight." 

"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle." 

"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."

[pucksandpower]

My Brother’s Father

Charles Leclerc x Piastri!Reader

Summary: apparently you’re dating your brother’s father and Charles is dating his son’s sister … what a mess!

You toss another shirt into the open suitcase on the bed, humming to yourself as you go through the closet. Charles will be home from training any minute and you want to have your little prank all set up before he arrives.

The front door opens and closes, followed by the familiar sound of Charles’ keys hitting the bowl by the entrance. “Mon amour? You home?” He calls out.

“In here!” You respond, stifling a grin. You pick up the pace, grabbing handfuls of clothing and dropping them haphazardly into the suitcase.

He rushes down the hallway, ready to convince you to join him for a shower. But when he reaches the bedroom door, his heart sinks.

“What … what are you doing?” He asks, horrified.

You glance up, your face the picture of innocence. “Oh, hello darling! I was just packing a few things.”

“Packing? For what? Are you … are you leaving me?” The words crack in his throat.

You sigh theatrically, shaking your head. “I’m afraid I have to, Charles. I can’t be with you anymore.”

“What? Why?” He staggers forward, feeling like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Did I do something wrong? Whatever it is, I’m sorry! We can fix it!”

Shooting him a mischievous look, you bite your lip. “It’s because of Oscar.”

Charles freezes. “Your brother? What does he have to do with us?”

“Well, think about it ...” You abandon the suitcase, sauntering over and trailing a fingertip down his chest. “When you adopted him, that made you his father. Ergo … you’re my brother’s father now.”

Charles gapes at you, completely lost. “I … what? That’s not how it works! I was just joking on Twitter-”

“So you’re saying you don’t see Oscar as your son?” You arch an eyebrow accusingly.

“Well, no, I don’t actually-”

You shake your head, clucking your tongue. “Shameful, Charles. Denying your own child like that.”

“But he’s not really-”

“Poor Oscar,” you lament, throwing a hand against your forehead dramatically. “Rejected by his own father! No wonder he’s been texting me constantly, sobbing about what an awful dad you are.”

Charles scrambles to catch up. “Oscar has not been … we’re not actually related, Y/N!”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” You back away, hands on your hips. “But the fact is, I can’t date my own brother’s father. It’s just … wrong. Morally corrupt.”

“You’re being completely ridiculous!” Charles throws his hands up.

Whirling on him, you jab a finger into his chest. “So you’re calling your son a liar now too? How dare you!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, at a total loss. You stare at him expectantly, arms folded.

Finally, Charles decides to change tactics. “Fine, okay, let’s say all that is true. For the sake of argument. That still doesn’t mean we have to break up!”

You blink at him innocently. “It doesn’t?”

“No!” He grabs your hands, holding them tightly. “Mon cœur, I love you. We can make this work.”

Pursing your lips, you pretend to consider it. “I don’t know … having a romantic relationship with my brother’s father? It just feels so sordid and taboo.”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes. “You’re making no sense. This is all hypothetical!”

“Is it, though?” You wiggle your fingers free, tapping your chin. “The heart wants what it wants, Charles. And mine wants to avoid a salacious love affair with Oscar’s own dad.”

Throwing up his hands again, Charles growls in frustration. “This is completely insane! We were together before I ever ‘adopted’ Oscar as a joke on Twitter!”

“Were we?” You ask loftily. “Sometimes the lines get so blurred, don’t they? It’s hard to keep track of what came first.”

Charles stares at you wildly for a long beat. Then, abruptly, he lunges forward — sweeping you up into his arms as you squeal in surprise. You flail dramatically as he hauls you over to the bed, tossing you down onto the rumpled sheets with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Charles Leclerc, what do you think you’re … eep!” Your faux outrage melts into peals of laughter as he attacks your sides with wiggling fingers, mercilessly tickling you. “Stop, stop! I give up, I give up!”

But he’s relentless, pinning you to the mattress as his fingers dance expertly over your most ticklish spots. You thrash and giggle helplessly, tears of mirth springing to your eyes.

“Say you’re not breaking up with me!” He demands, grinning wickedly. “Say it, or I’ll never stop!”

“Never!” You gasp out, breathless with laughter. “I’ll never, hahaha, surrender!”

Lunging up, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, stealing your breath away. You melt against him with a contented hum, tangling your fingers in his soft hair as his hands roam over your body possessively. The teasing banter falls away, replaced by the familiar sparks of want and need that always seem to simmer between you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both flushed and panting. Charles gazes down at you with dark, molten eyes. “Are you done being ridiculous now?”

You try for an imperious look, but can’t quite hide the smirk tugging at your lips. “Well … I suppose I could be persuaded to overlook that our family tree is quickly turning into a wreath.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, dipping his head to trail scorching kisses along the exposed column of your throat.

Throwing your head back with a breathy sigh, you concede, “Fine, fine. I’m not actually breaking up with you, you lunatic.”

“Thank god.” He raises his head, his expression turning serious as he cups your cheek tenderly. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, okay? I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

You cover his hand with yours, turning to press a soft kiss against his palm. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to worry you so much. I was just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny to me.” He tries to look stern, but you can see the fondness sparkling in his warm green eyes. “No more jokes about us splitting up. Or pretending I’m actually related to your brother. Deal?”

Tracing the beloved lines of his face, you murmur, “Deal. I promise to leave Oscar out of our sexy games from now on.”

Charles barks out a surprised laugh. “Our what now?”

You grin unrepentantly. “What? Like you’ve never fantasized about me calling you ‘daddy’ before?”

He flushes bright red, sputtering as you dissolve into giggles once more. Leaning down, he silences you with another heated kiss — and soon, all thoughts of Oscar and Twitter jokes are utterly forgotten.