#mc appreciation all hours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peachylynnie · 1 month ago

Text

glasses

word count: 1.2k synopsis: in which you wear zayne's glasses. contains: zayne x mc!reader, slightly posessive zayne, whipped zayne, mentions of violence, slight angst, and fluff overall. a/n: i really like zayne's glasses (the frameless ones). do not copy or translate my work. zayne does not endorse plagiarism. reblogs and comments are appreciated :) lads masterlist: here

zayne doesn't expect you to be awake when he comes home. given how late he leaves his office, he's not surprised to find you fast asleep in your adorable pajamas with your mouth open and legs splayed by the time he arrives at your shared bedroom. though, there are times when he finds you awake, either treating your wounds from another day of hunting wanderers or sitting outside on the balcony to gaze at the stars. but, those times are rare. (not to say he doesn't appreciate them; he's in awe of how strong you are whenever you ramble about taking down a wanderer as he bandages you up and how the stars don't even compare to how stunning you look whenever he joins you at the balcony).

point is: zayne doesn't expect you to be up so late at night (morning at this point) when he walks in. so, he's surprised to find you awake... in his glasses.

the prodigious doctor freezes in place after closing the door. there you are, legs crossed on the couch with a book in your hand and your eyebrows furrowed as you flip a page, causing his glasses to tilt on the bridge of your nose. oh, god. he can feel his knees buckling. not from the eight-hour surgery he just finished, no. but from the gorgeous sight in front of him. his glasses looked so good on you.

"darling?" he calls breathlessly.

you yelp, causing the glasses to nearly fall until you swiftly catch and adjust them with your fingers. he thinks it's the most seductive thing you have ever done (besides the time you insisted on shaving his chin on a rocking chair). "zayne?!" you stand up immediately, abandoning the book on the couch and rushing to him to wrap him in a hug. "how long were you standing there for? i didn't notice you at all!"

"was the book that interesting?" the man questions as he returns the hug, careful not to apply too much pressure. he doesn't want to break his glasses after all. not because they're his, no, not at all. but because he wants to see you wear them more often.

you look up at him from his chest and nod. his heart soars at the sight. the glasses...they bring out the light in your eyes.

"oh? thanks, zayne." you giggle. ah, he said that out loud. his ears grow red as he averts his gaze to the side.

"ahem," he coughs. "why are you wearing my glasses, anyway? do they match your prescription?"

"yes, actually!" your beam. "i couldn't find my glasses earlier, so i decided to use yours." you lean playfully to the side to see his face. zayne can't help but smile upon meeting your eyes. they really did look good on you, and he couldn't be happier to hear that his prescription matches yours. "i hope you don't mind," you say sheepishly. "i was only going to use them for tonight. i'm sure my glasses are lying around here somewhere." at that, you twist left and right to scan the living room.

"no need," he says almost immediately. he really doesn't want your eyes to leave his right now, not with you wearing his glasses so mesmerizingly. you look at him with curiosity when his hands slide up your neck and stop at your face, gently cooling your cheeks.

"are you alright, zayne?"

he nods silently and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead. "i'm alright, darling." caressing your cheek with his thumb, the man adds, "and i don't mind. not at all. wear them whenever you like. i have some spares back at the office."

"oh, okay." you're taken aback by how eager he sounds. it's almost as if he wants you to wear his glasses, and his glasses only.

except that's exactly what the man standing before you wants. to continue to wear his glasses whenever you please. the idea of you enjoying a book while donning his glasses fills him with an immaculate sense of pride. he takes it even further by imagining the faces of all the interns who dared to gawk at you with starry eyes whenever you visited him at his office. he's sure once they see you with his glasses, they'll get the message.

"but i still have to look for mine at some point," you yawn. he takes note of how his glasses slide down whenever you scrunch your nose. "they weren't exactly cheap, you know?"

"i'll help you look for them in the morning," he says as he guides you to the bedroom (lies, he's going to hide them). your sleepy eyes look even more adorable with his glasses on; oh, he swears he can feel himself melting (and that says a lot given his evol).

"thanks, zayne," you say sleepily as you settle under the covers. "you always take care of me, you know that?"

"i'm your primary care physician. it's my job to take care of you," he answers as he sheds his coat and hangs it in the closet.

"you're also my boyfriend, remember?" you grumble, shifting onto your side.

"no, i forgot," he replies monotonously.

you jerk your head back, shooting him a glare. him and his dry humor.

zayne remains unfazed as he joins you in bed. "you should remember this too," he murmurs your name. "you don't ever have to thank me for taking care of you." pulling the covers up to your chin, he adds, "i will always take care of you." you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it. "not because i am legally obligated to do so, but because i love you. please remember that."

you blink, taken aback by his words. it's not often you get to see zayne so honest and close to you like this. due to your busy schedules, tender moments like these are hard to come by. determined to make the most of this, you cup your lover's face and plant a kiss on his lips. indulging in the much-needed warmth your lips provide, zayne deepens the kiss, his hands finding your waist.

after pulling back for air, you throw him a cheeky smile. "thanks, zayne."

he looks at you unamused. "what did i just say?"

you laugh before shifting onto your back, ready to sleep. sparing him one last glance before you close your eyes, you say, "i love you, zayne."

"i love you too," he whispers as he watches you drift off peacefully. it doesn't take long for him to turn and reach for the pull chain on the lamp. except he notices something.

you forgot to take his glasses off.

chuckling to himself, zayne carefully removes them from your face. as much as he loves how they suit you perfectly, he wants you to be comfortable. after placing his glasses on the nightstand, he returns to your side and notices another thing: the small dents on your nose bridge left by the pads from his glasses.

unable to stop himself, your lover admires them by gently tracing his finger over them. it seems there are many ways to show that you are his and he is yours. he's delighted his glasses are one of the ways.

after finally pulling the lamp chain, zayne presses one final kiss to your forehead.

"goodnight, darling."

#i need a zayne in my life #and his glasses #his glasses are nice #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x you #love and deepspace zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne fluff #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader

2K notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 5 months ago

Text

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

#🌷... yael's works #🧁... yael's misc.#series: again & again #concept: brutus #yandere dc #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere angst #platonic yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n

2K notes · View notes

smoft-demons · 11 months ago

Text

MC falls asleep on him

_______

Lucifer:

‘…?!’ Is what Lucifer is thinking as your head drops onto his shoulder.

You had cajoled him into doing some of his constant paperwork in a bigger chair for a change. So there’s room for you to sit next to him! You’re not even demanding his attention, or the spare time that he doesn’t have, you’re being very considerate, you just wanted sit next to him, that’s all, you had promised!

Lucifer caved, because he is very soft for his human—even though he’s loathe to look like it. You were in fact being considerate… so he had brought a stack of relatively low-importance papers out of his office, into the living room.

You were sitting on a couch together, him with his stack of administrative papers and you with a homework assignment. You finished yours quickly, so you ended up playing a game on your DDD as you lean against him.

He checks on you periodically out of the corner of his eye. He’s relaxed though—as relaxed as Lucifer gets. This is peaceful. Meditative, almost. He’s happy. All his brothers are elsewhere, his tasks are not too overwhelming, he gets to have a nice, calming afternoon sitting in companionable silence with his favourite housemate…

A sudden weight falling on him jolts him out of his trance. Your cheekbone thunks against his shoulder. He blinks. Processing.

In quick succession, his brain goes like ‘..?!’ then ‘it is mid-afternoon why are you sleeping’ and ‘have we been overworking our human?’ and ‘aww. MC really does trust me that much.’

He adjusts the way you’re situated so you’re more comfortable as he finishes up the last of his work. When he’s done, he takes a moment to just observe. To appreciate your trust in him. Also, to congratulate himself again for his part in the creation of the exchange program, because it brought you into his life.

(He tries to ignore the stubborn twinge of nostalgic heartache he feels as well. You’re reminding him so much of Belphie, from back when his relationship with him was good. He’d never admit it, but he misses having his babiest brother fall asleep on him like this.)

Lucifer gathers up his papers, then picks you up, being careful not to jostle you too much. Let no one ever say he doesn’t take good care of his human. He carries you to your room to put you to bed. Clearly you need the extra sleep. Or… well, he tries to. You’re holding onto him pretty insistently.

He expects himself to feel irritated, but… no. He can’t help but feel a little smug, actually. It’s cute, you’re cute, you don’t seem to want him to leave you. So… fine. He’ll oblige. For a short break.

(An hour or two later, you’ll wake up to the smells and sounds of dinner being prepared. You’re… not under your blanket? No, you’re covered by Lucifer’s ridiculously long coat. It’s warm, soft. It smells like him. In this moment, it’s impossible to miss how loved you are.)

_______

Mammon:

The first time this happened (in your room, watching movies without any of his brothers for once), Mammon was stunned. He had frozen up, stuttered some nonsense to no one in particular, then quickly slapped his free hand over his mouth as he realized he would wake you if he didn’t immediately chill out.

Now though? You’ve been in his life for a while. He’s your oldest friend here. Those movie nights had become a habit, even though it remained rare to have one with no one else joining in. So this has happened a lot, and he’s gotten used to it. He doesn’t react so outwardly anymore, not unless one of his brothers show up to make fun of him.

If they try it, Mammon is rather aggressive about shushing them. At first, because he hated to be so obvious about how much he cares about you, but now that he’s a bit more used to it, it’s because he doesn’t want them to disturb you. He feels like he’s protecting you by keeping his brothers from waking you up. Sometimes, he’s the one who wakes you up by telling them to shut up just a bit too loudly, or silently gesturing for them to be quiet or go away a little too enthusiastically.

His brothers roast him even more for that. Poor thing.

Time and time again, you pass out on his shoulder. During a movie, mid relaxed hangouts with various groups of the brothers, in the rare times when hanging out solo with Mammon is a relaxing low-energy affair, while studying, during the lunch break at school, even in class sometimes. His heart warms, and he can’t help but smile at the familiar feel of you conked out on his shoulder again. He doesn’t even mind if you snore.

Mammon is usually such a loud, high energy person. Neither you nor him finds anything wrong with that of course, it’s one of many lovable things about him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t like being able to just chill with you sometimes though. It’s nice.

Eventually, he gets familiar enough with this that he’s willing to move you around to get more comfortable. With time, he learns exactly what ways he can move you without disturbing you. So most of the time when you fall asleep on him, you wake up in some other position. Sitting in his lap, lying down with a sleeping Mammon wrapped around you, being carried to another room, propped up against his side in your next class, being hugged like a teddy bear in his room, etc etc.

He never questions why you’re tired. He just lets you pass out on him. He wants you to be in the best possible condition, and he will happily take all the time with you he can get. He takes this to mean that you also want all the time with him that you can get, that you would rather stay with him than go to bed when you’re tired because you would rather not be separated from him. Just like how he feels about you. Why else would he be in your room as often as he is?

You trusting him enough to sleep on him all the time makes him feel like he’s being a good guardian demon, like he’s as precious to you as you are to him.

He’s a fan of all the free cuddles he gets out of this, too.

_______

Levi:

You’re in Levi’s room with him, set up very comfortably as you’re marathoning an anime together. You’ve been at it for hours though, you’re already a bit sleep deprived, and you’ve seen this one a few times already. You can’t stop yourself from nodding off. Your head drops onto his shoulder.

Levi freaks out.

“afgshrjdxssh—WH-!” He flails. You immediately snap awake again. “You—uhh-!” He shoves you away in a panic, then immediately changes his mind, pulling you back in, then freezes for a moment before letting go of you to flap his hands frantically. “Nonono stay—wait no, you don’t want to—I mean, you don’t have to—I mean, get o—uhh! Um! I mean! S-stay if you want, but I don’t care if you don’t want to—!”

You blink slowly at him a couple times. Trying to parse his contradictory sputtering. You’re tired, you’re not working at full brain power. You figure he means something along the lines of: ‘ooo I’m Levi, I have bad self esteem and I can’t believe you want to touch me, but I want you to, but I can’t say that because I cope with feeling unlovable by acting all tsundere because that way I feel less pathetic, love you though!’

You know. Standard Levi stuff. You love him so much—and you’d be very happy if he started therapy.

For now though, you just grab his arm and pull him closer to you again. You bury your face in his shoulder. This time, it’s unmistakably a deliberate move. Wordlessly telling him that you do in fact love him enough to want to touch him.

It’s like his body just took a screenshot! He keysmashes out loud.

Slowly, he calms down. He puts one hesitant arm around you. You don’t move. He can’t tell if you’re already asleep again or just pretending to be, but either way you seem to be comfortable.

Soon enough, he finds himself smiling like an absolute dork. This… is actually very effective reassurance. He feels all warm and fuzzy and loved. He likes holding you.

It’s reminding him of TSL fluff fics he’s read where absolutely nothing happens except Henry and the Lord of Shadows cuddle. A way for him to experience affection vicariously through a character he relates to and a character he loves, when he really wants hugs himself but can’t have any.

He squeezes you softly as his heart warms. He squishes his cheek against the side of your head.

“I love my Henry..!” Levi mumbles to himself, under his breath. He has no way of knowing if you heard that, which is why he said it out loud. It’ll be a while until he gets the nerve to say it when he knows you can hear.

_______

Satan:

He is HONOURED, he is OVERJOYED, he is MELTING, he is… very carefully remaining perfectly chill.

It’s the same type of happiness as when a cat decides to sit on you out of nowhere. He’s been chosen!

He is SO happy you trust him so much!

He had been reading, as usual. You had been sitting next to him, as usual. You had gotten tired, and without a moment of hesitation you had buried your face in his shoulder and fallen asleep.

He carefully contains all the joy this gives him, so he doesn’t disturb you. He wraps an arm around you, plants a soft kiss on your head, and goes right back to reading.

If you sleep fitfully, he’ll stroke your hair to soothe you.

When you wake up, he’ll ask if you had a nice nap. He won’t make any moves to make you get off him. If you choose to anyway, he won’t react outwardly, because he doesn’t want to discourage you falling asleep on him again. He wants this to happen lots more! So he’ll just smile at you and go back to his book.

But if you don’t choose to leave, he’ll shift you entirely into his lap to make you both more comfortable. He can hug you properly like this. If he’s sure you’ll be comfortable with it, he’ll kiss your forehead before going back to his book. He’s very happy to keep you there.

_______

Asmo:

Predictably, Asmo’s gonna take ALL the pictures of this!

A few in which he doesn’t look at the camera, as if they were candid shots. Some where he’s posing cutely, a couple where he’s kissing your head, a bunch of various angles of your sleeping face. What can he say, he thinks the way your cheek squishes against his collarbone is just precious.

A bit less predictably, he posts none on devilgram. No, these are just for him.

…maybe the best ones are for the group chat. He’s gotta show off his cute human to someone, it may as well be to his brothers. They’ll appreciate you properly. He’ll share after you’ve woken up, though. He doesn’t want anyone barging in to disturb you.

He’ll share the pictures with you as well if you ask, of course! What he will NOT do, however, is risk you deleting them! He’ll back them up first. He’ll store them in a hidden album if you’re shy about them, but he’s not deleting them!

Well, unless you’re genuinely uncomfortable. Then, okay fine. But please let him keep at least one? You’re so cute!

He’ll be more affectionate over the following days. Trying to be next to you all the time, inviting you to his room at every opportunity, pulling you to sit next to him. All because he hopes you’ll fall asleep on him again. Or just lean on him like that, and let him cuddle you. Please, he’d be SO happy!

_______

Beel:

Beel is so used to this behaviour. Belphie falls asleep on him all the time. He’d be the most chill about it.

As if it’s routine, he’ll secure you in your position with his arm, so you can’t fall and get hurt. He’ll rub your back and hum softly to you to help you relax if you don’t seem to be sleeping well. Beel is warm and soft and big and comfy, like the giant teddy bear he is at heart. He’s considerate and gentle. He’s always really sweet to you, and that doesn’t change one bit even when you’re unconscious.

When he inevitably gets too hungry to stay where he is, he’ll just take you to the kitchen with him. It’s no problem, he does this with Belphie all the time. It doesn’t matter how much you weigh, Beel can carry you easily. He thinks nothing of it.

He can cook one handed too if he needs to. He’s got practice—also because of Belphie. He’s chilling, he’s comfortable, there’s nothing unusual about this at all to him.

If the kitchen noises wake you up, he’ll apologize and share his food with you. He’ll tell you outright that he’s happy to let you use him as a pillow whenever you want.

(Also, he makes a mental note to drop you off with Belphie instead of bringing you along to the kitchen and risking waking you up again next time)

If it doesn’t wake you up, no problem! That’s what he expected. He just carries you around as he does what he needs to do around the house. He’ll put you to bed properly if he needs to go outside of course, but otherwise he’s bringing you with him.

When you wake up, he’ll put you down if you somehow indicate that’s what you want. If you don’t though, he just… won’t. He likes holding you. He’d do it so often if he thought you’d like him to.

_______

Belphie:

…Welp. The table has turned, hasn’t it.

People don’t fall asleep on Belphie while he’s awake too often! He’s not usually conscious to experience this! He likes it though. He thinks you’re being so cute.

9 times out of 10, Belphie will take this as his cue to cuddle up to you and join you in sleep. He can always be tempted into a nap. He’d make sure this the comfiest, nicest, most restful nap you’ve ever taken. He’d make sure you feel so safe and loved. You will NOT be disturbed on his watch.

On the rare tenth time, when Belphie isn’t tired, he might whine about being trapped. When one of his brothers points out that he can move you very easily, he glares at them. He maintains that it’s illegal to move when you’ve been chosen as someone’s pillow. When it’s pointed out that he’s perfectly capable of waking you if he really wants to get up, he looks affronted. He would NOT do that, he says. Do they think he’s completely heartless, he asks.

Well. He wouldn’t do that unless he’s feeling particularly bratty. He’d totally do it to any of his brothers… but he’s soft with you. He loves you. Be so for real, do you think he’d really ever pass up an opportunity to cuddle you? No way. He can go shopping later.

He won’t tell you that though. He’ll bitch about it to your face, complaining until you agree to go shopping with him next time, all the while refusing to let go of you.

He already was not hesitating to fall asleep on you, but he somehow gets more shameless and constant about it. Since you’re doing it too, it’s your thing now. You’d be a hypocrite to complain now.

Yeah, he couldn’t be happier about this. Please sleep on him all the time. Enable him even more! He’ll make sure you won’t regret it.

4K notes · View notes

dpspcehntr · 27 days ago

Text

Kink Series: Sylus

Zayne || Rafayel || Xavier

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: sensory deprivation, blind folds, light bondage, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), P in V, squirting, over stimulation, cream pie, light biting, pain kink (if you squint)

A/N: When I started writing this I was so stumped. Sylus is just so soft and gentle with MC it was so hard to find something he would actually be into. Thankfully this lovely community post gifsets and so inspiration has hit! I can’t see him as anything but a careful and attentive overachiever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. As always reblogs are deeply appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

“At any point you can tell me to stop. You have to promise me kitten.”

Sylus wraps the blindfold over your eyes. You run your hands over the smooth fabric as you listen to his breathing.

“I’ll let you know., I promise.”

Without your sight you give yourself over to Sylus, you trusted him but he still had some reservations.

“Are you comfortable?”

You can’t see him but you envision his worried eyes as he watched you settle onto the bed. Your brain is surprisingly quiet as you give into your other senses. You press yourself deeper into the bed, embracing what’s in store.

“I’m comfortable. Relaxed even. You’d be surprised how nice it feels. Maybe next time?”

He leans down just inches away from your face. His breath tickles your lips and you sigh.

“Next time, kitten? Already planning your next move I see.”

He plants his lips on yours with a soft kiss. He trails his fingers down your body. You arch into his touch, his fingers lingering on your erect nipples. You gasp as his lips graze your jaw and neck. Your heightened senses make everything more intense as his fingers trail lower on your body. You whine as his fingers trail the inside of your inner thigh. His mouth trails lower, following the path of his fingers. While his fingers slowly press into your core, he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. You cry out as his fingers slip deeper into you finding your sweet spot. You morn the loss of his mouth on your chest as he kisses lower on your body. You whine and sigh out his name as he continues to leave you breathless. Every touch, every noise feels all the more intense without your sight. You couldn’t see where he’d end up next and the anticipation left you dripping and clenching around his fingers. His lips graze your inner thigh, biting and sucking lightly. He licks from your aching clit to your dripping hole, his other hand grips your hips holding you down. You try to thrust and writhe into him but he keeps you firmly planted on the bed. You can only listen to the noises as he sucks on your clit and scissors you open. You arch further, carding your fingers in his hair and pushes him deeper into you. You grab a fistful and pull feeling him groan into you. He laps you up as your climax begins to build up. You grip his hair harder as your orgasm rips through you. You gush over his lips and chin as he continues to thrust his fingers into you. You try to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit but he doesn’t budge. Your next orgasm rolls out of you as he intensifies his movements. You whine above him, desire coursing through you. You don’t know when your highs start and stop. He’s so lost in the feeling of you it feels like hours before he pulls his fingers out. He releases your clit with a pop as you sink back onto the bed. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the floor. The rustling of his clothes being removed has you yearning and waiting for what else he has in store.

“Ready kitten?”

He lines himself up with your entrance, already dripping for him. You let out a weak yes as he slowly thrusts into you. Once fully inside you (uh). His place is slow and torturous setting every nerve in your body on fire. Your blindfold only adding to your lust, hearing how much he was enjoying himself but being denied to see it turned you on more than you thought. You were in complete bliss, loving the feeling of him fucking you and trusting you completely, trusting your judgement and more importantly trusting himself with you. You arch deeper into him and he takes the opportunity to slide one of his arms underneath you. With his shift in position you can feel his breath on your neck as he leans down to pepper kisses across it. You cry out hoarsely as he increases his thrusts. You could no longer hold back your release, already feeling overstimulated. You squirt over him as he continues to pump in and out of you.

“Fuck.”

He whispers in your ear as he keeps up his pace. It senses your mind reeling as a shiver of desire courses through you. If only you could see how beautiful he looks right now. You mind conjuring up all kinds of images as he quickens his pace. His breath is hot on your neck as he pants and grunts in your ear. He lightly bites down on your shoulder, lost in the feeling of being inside you. You gasp, the pain of it only turns you on more. You clench down on him with a groan as he quickens his pace. He thrusts deeper into you as his release begins to creep up. You clench down onto him as another orgasm washes over you. He stays deep inside you, filling you with his cum as you milked him dry. He pauses for only a moment before he’s thrusting back into you. Your nails dig into his back as he plows into you. Your release rolls into the next as you cling to him. Tonight he wasn’t holding back, his trust in you furthering his own stamina. He continues to have his fill, fucking you and filling you with cum. Your whole body begging for just one more as he fucks you to his satisfaction. He rolls his hips into you one last time before thrusting deep into you and releasing the last of his load. He pauses for another moment, letting himself go soft inside you. He finally pulls out as his cum leaks from your hole onto the sheets. You groan at his absence but are quickly shushed with a kiss. Soon you feel his hands beginning to undo the ties of the blindfold. You blink a few times before taking a look at Sylus. His pupils are blown, his hair is a mess and he looks blissfully fucked out. You shudder at the sight of him before realizing the pain coming from your hips.

“Careful kitten, you need to rest now. I’ll clean you up.”

You try to protest but a yawn interrupts you. He leans down to place a kiss on each of your eyelids before getting up to get a washcloth. By the time he returned you were already fast asleep. He plants a kiss on your forehead before cleaning you up and letting you sleep.

455 notes · View notes

nikovraskol · 2 months ago

Note

Omg I love your writing! Feel free to ignore this but why do I imagine Dick having designated cuddle time with mc just to make up for lost time but also to stop them from leaving?

MC suddenly realizes Dick is spending more and more time with them suffocatingly so and every time at a designated hour every time he’s at the manor it’s time to cuddle no matter what MC is doing and whether or not their kicking and screaming and crying he thinks cuddles will just make it better and drags them off to his room for privacy!

He can’t help but treat them (unconsciously or consciously up to you) like an infant treating them younger than Damian every time because that’s all he’ll ever see them as the small shy child that used to trail after him for attention and boy is Dick going to give it to them never again will they want to leave him because he’s giving them the attention and affection they always wanted!

And every time they try getting away from him and try kicking, biting and screaming clawing to get away from him he just thinks they aren’t used to the affection and it’s just them throwing a tantrum because they aren’t used to it (it’s not the fact that his sibling just wants to get away from him right?! And get away from the rest of the family?! No of course not!)

And when he comes home after a long day in a terrible mood he thinks cuddles with his little sibling will make it better because when does it not?

But oh they don’t want to cuddle?! They’re just trying to get away from him and it’s just making his mood worse and he starts to feel worry that they might injure themselves in the process and is just being so stubborn and refuse to cuddle wailing, sobbing, screaming, yelling and thrashing that they ‘hate him’ or that they ‘want him to get away’? Oh he knows they don’t mean it they’re just to worked up from not taking a nap! (Thats just what growing children need isn’t it?)

But don’t worry big brother Dick has just the perfect solution something to get them to relax and not worry about a thing it’ll make them feel nice and sleepy and warm and fuzzy head empty! He’ll give them a teeny tiny sedative injection just to get them to relax and cuddle sure he’ll feel guilty but it’s for the best isn’t it? He just wants to cuddle and spend time with them they’ll understand!

Sorry I rambled you can ignore this and stuff I meant this as a request but went overboard I’m so sorry if it’s a weird request 🥹😭🫠🫠

Regardless have a nice and wonderful day! 💙♥️🩵💜

omg don't apologise i love this!

masterlist

you can literally bite, scratch, punch him and he will just take it as you acting out because you're just a little shy, poor you :(

obviously, at first you're on guard, why is dick grayson, your brother famously known for brushing you off is dragging you around for cuddle sessions? you don't have time for this! you've got stuff to do, you're not interested in chasing after him anymore!

you make that fact very known, every time he wraps his arms around you, you thrash like a cat dunked in water.

he puts up with it, believing that exposing you to his cuddles will warm you up, but then when he gets home in a bad mood and just wants to cuddle with his baby sibling and you kick him in the knee, telling him to "fuck off!"

well, he doesn't really appreciate it.. if only there were a way for you to calm down, to become nice and sleepy.. he says as he pulls out a teeny tiny sedative..

it kicks in slow, he watches as your breathing calms down, how your eyes droop and-- oh look! you're leaning against him, so you do want to cuddle!

well, he's more than happy to oblige, holding you closer and cooing in your ear about how precious you are!!

and sure, he does feel a slither of guilt about technically drugging you, but when you clutch onto him, your face relaxed and your breathing coming out as soft snores.

well, what's a tiny sedative? you might've hurt yourself when pushing him away! he's doing this for your good!

#batman #dc fanfiction #platonic batfam #platonic yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dick grayson #platonic dick grayson x reader #platonic yandere dick grayson

506 notes · View notes

tsukii0002 · 3 months ago

Text

After the TSL quiz incident

Mc: *reading volume 1 of TSL*

Levi: *entering the living room* What… what are you doing?

Mc: *without looking up* Reading

Levi: Em… yeah *looking away* I can see it… but why?

Mc: *looking straight at him* Well, after everything that's happened… I was curious, and it's actually quite interesting.

Levi: Re- really?

Mc: *nodding as moving to make room for Levi next to them* I didn't have much faith, because these things have never interested me.

Levi: *sitting down next to them, uneasy*.

Mc: But… seeing how passionate you are about it I thought it was worth giving it a chance and *smiling* it's totally been worth it.

Levi: !!! Do you really like it? what do you think of the first arc? Don't you think Henry's origin is awesome??!

Mc: *laughing* Hold on, hold on, I'm not that far along, also bear with me, there are so many characters! and I suck at names, so I have to go back to find out who is who

Levi: *approaching unconsciously* Ah! I understand what you mean, if you're not used to it it's complicated… I can make you a list if you want and add visual references!!!!

Mc: *smiling at seeing Levi so happy* I'd appreciate it.

Levi: *looking them in the eyes for the first time* You have to inform me and give me all your opinions!

Mc: Ha, ha, ha, I will.

Levi: This could be the beginning of something big Mc!!!!

Mc: I hope so Levi, I hope so.

After almost an hour of talking Levi realized what had happened and apologized again eighty times for almost sending Mc to his father😂. I feel like the relationships with the brothers were formed very quickly and without deepening, especially Levi's, so I often think about how those bonds were deepening outside of canon.

Thanks for reading 🩷 .

449 notes · View notes

deerspherestudios · 3 months ago

Note

Hello!! I just played mushroom oasis today and I must say I'm a big fan of the game! I think the banter between Mychael and the mc is so charming, the development of their relationship feels so natural (despite maybe the uhhh. manipulation that may be happening) but yes I find it all very enjoyable!! I'm excited to see what more you have planned 💖

Aaa thank you for the kind words!! Having it feel natural is always important to me, especially with it being a slow burn so that means a lot!! Since I'm done with the recent game jam I'm excited to get back into continuing development for Day 4 once I get my ducks in a row!!

Also,,, completely unrelated,,, but I do recognize you around tumblr and I'm kinda holding back rn but wauhhh another,, cwinge appreciation post below,,, (everyone look away!!! look away!!!):

HOW DOES THE DCA FANDOM KEEP FINDING ME PLEASE THIS IS A PROFESSIONAL BLOG!! wailing,,,

I won't ramble too much but the fact you of all people ended up in my inbox after haunting my side blog dash for MONTHS (years????) with jester content,,, I'm clowning in public rn,,,

Anyway anyway, I love your work (esp sunmoonsun who?? who said that>> WHO SAID THAT); I hope you have a good day!!! I'm gonna scream into my palms for a few hours now ty, , , for the support,,,

Honorable mention//

You know who you are ,, ty for the fanart <3<3<3,,,,

#mushroom oasis vn #jar of fireflies #im calm im calm im profESSIONAL #what if i shed my inhibitions and just straight up make a dca visual novel someday huh #what then #id have achieved maximum 'im cringe but im free' i think #anyways major big apologies to anyone who had to see this </3 #in public?!!!!#we're all clowns here im afraid...#i have ur ask in queue delia im abt to shame mychael so bad

459 notes · View notes

comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

Text

preface [ deux ] | sylus

summary: in his haste to find you before the auction begins, sylus uncovers something much more harrowing. and he curses himself for agreeing to let you be bait in the first place.

warnings: violence, minor character deaths, human/sex trafficking, mentions of underaged girls, profanity, allusions to reader’s past as a kidnappee, reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, sylus is mad murderous & an emotional wreck

tagging: @world-of-hearts, @athanasia-day, @falon-fen, @queen-serena88, @karespocketboyfriends, @mrswanel, @readerxyourfave, @sunsets-and-crows, @antonneva

notes: a continuation of this. thank you so much for reading! part 3 can be found here.

now playing: mozart - requiem - lacrimosa

The docks are deceptively quiet tonight.

Nothing seems amiss between the creeks of old wood and the slosh of waves breaking on the pier.

Sylus isn’t convinced of its purity.

Not when the tracker dwarfed in his palm blinks a steady red, signaling to your whereabouts.

He’d followed the signal here after it grew stagnant following an hour of movement away from the city. He waited another 45 agonizing minutes to make his move. Had to be sure he wasn’t being led into a trap and that wherever Fate’s men whisked you off to was where he’d find the others.

He stands on the edge of a weathered connex, the wind ominously ruffling his coat.

He studies the device in his hand. Paints a shadowy figure amid the bokeh of distant city lights glittering behind him. With one hand in his pocket, the composure adorning his features contrasts with the hushed maelstrom brewing beneath his skin.

He holds out his unoccupied hand for Mephisto to perch on, the crow materializing on his wrist as if summoned from thought. Mephisto preens himself, iridescent feathers gleaming in the moonlight. When he’s done, he fixes Sylus with a lifeless, scarlet stare before a holographic image emerges from his eyesight.

It’s a detailed layout of the docks. Metal containers, small, worn ships. For a second, nothing looks abnormal. Yet something stark white and rectangular piques Sylus’ intrigue.

Sylus scrutinizes the shape further before he makes out what it is. A semi-truck inconspicuously parked between stacked connexes. Three dark figures circle around it like wolves. Guards, more than likely armed. Whatever they’re protecting, it must be big.

“Well, that doesn’t look very suspicious at all,” Sylus drawls, scratching Mephisto’s head with appreciative fingers. The crow bows out of existence in a flurry of inky shadows and feathers, having served Sylus well.

He spares another glance at the tracker. The blip of your signal aligns with where the truck resides.

It is then that he decides to make his move.

A smirk tugs on the corner of his lips. It’s been a while since he’s gotten his hands dirty. Had you and the twins for that. The prospect of a good fight makes his fingers twitch, the tips of them sparking with dark red electricity.

In superhero fashion, he pitches himself forward, swallowed by the misty vines of his Evol, as he ascends from the connex at breakneck speed.

You’d make fun of him for being so dramatic; he’s sure of it. He’ll tell you all about his heroic feats when you’re safely tucked back in his penthouse with this night shoved into the furthest reaches of your minds.

He lands on sturdy feet. Insufferably cool as he maneuvers through the maze of cargo containers. The click of his shoes reverberates off damaged metal until he spots what he’s looking for.

The guards have yet to see him. Two of them pace back and forth at the truck’s rear. Another circles its perimeter, two hands on a rifle.

Such meager security for whatever’s housed in that trailer.

He breathes deeply. Fades into obscurity, drawn into the shadows of his Evol, preparing for a sneak attack. He doesn’t need to. Could effortlessly eviscerate the guards with a snap of his fingers. But where’s the fun in that?

“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” sighs a disgruntled guard all by his lonesome in the driver seat, hands wrapped around the steering wheel. “What am I, a fuckin’ babysitter?” So caught up in his head, he’s none the wiser to Sylus’ appearance on the passenger side, amused, crimson eyes boring into his skull.

“You’re right,” Sylus replies, his voice abrasive yet cocky. “You don’t get paid enough.”

The driver doesn’t get the luxury of a scream before wispy, handlike tendrils snake around his neck. Bone snaps, followed by a sigh of life drained from cold lips. He dies with terror twisting his features, shepherded into the afterlife by The Boogeyman himself. His head slumps onto his shoulder as his energy flows into Sylus’ body.

“Now, what exactly are you babysitting,” Sylus ponders. The kingpin blinks out of existence again, readying himself to dispatch the other three henchmen.

Sylus doesn’t make a sound as he takes out the guard who’d wandered to the nose of the semi to ensure his cohort was still on the job. The other two, he snuffs out similarly, their blood gurgling in their throats and their bones crackling, music to his ears.

He rolls out the kinks in his neck and shoulders to ward off the stiffness as their life force seeps into his body. It’s been too long since he’s had some fun. Hopefully, this is the most action he’ll see for the night.

His eyes grow intense with concentration when he stares at the worn handles of the truck’s trailer. He burns with anticipation. With something of wariness nestled between. Your signal stops here, steadily buzzing on the tracker in his pocket. He clings to the notion that you’re inside, unscathed and none the worse for wear.

He shuts his eyes, focusing a stretch of energy on the handles. The doors fly off with a deafening screech of metal, sure to draw some unwarranted attention.

Nevertheless, with his hands in his pockets, he waits for the dust to settle. Leaps into the truck trailer with practiced ease, eliciting screams and gasps of varying pitches from within.

None of which sound like yours.

Red emergency lights flicker in the space inside. It reeks of mildew and sweat. Fear. Revulsion.

When the grime completely clears, Sylus makes out dozens of sets of eyes fixed on him. He stiffens. His blood turns ice cold.

Girls of diverse creeds, colors, sizes, and ages cower against the back of the trailer. All from him. He makes out at least 30 of them, crammed in the trailer like cattle awaiting slaughter.

Something in his chest pulls. His lips twitch with the threat of a grimace.

Those sick fucks.

Sylus is no saint. He’s done horrible things to equally deplorable people to increase his reign. To strike fear into those who would oppose him. Challenge his title as Onychinus’ ruler. But he’s never dreamt of doing something as vile as this.

There’s no telling how long Fate had them—these young women, these girls. How long they’ve been emaciated, deprived of food, water, and sunlight.

Sylus bristles as an image of you forms in his mind. A flash of a girl, young like these ones. Terrified yet burning with fury. Revenge rotting your mind, anger warping your tear-stricken features.

Speaking of you, he scans through the girls’ faces in search of yours. He doesn’t find you through their varying degrees of fright. Sucks in a breath through parted lips, his blood running cold.

He cautiously steps further into the trailer, and the girls inside shy away. He holds out a placating hand. Sure, he’s despicable. Terrifying, and the red light highlighting his imposing figure as he nears them doesn’t help matters. But he has to be sure you’re not nestled between them. Playing a cruel joke on him after he spent all this time hunting you down.

The tracker in his pocket vibrates violently. The group of women parts, cowering away from him like he’s something of a sickness. He stops in front of a girl who looks no older than sixteen. Peers down at her, and she shivers, swallowed by your coat. She ducks into the fur, shrouding herself from Sylus’ penetrating gaze.

There’s no mistaking this jacket. Pristine lynx fur.

One of the first he’d bought you when you joined his entourage. A peace offering, a sign of his unyielding protection.

You wore it faithfully like it was your most prized possession. No matter how many more Sylus stocked you with, you never let this particular coat go.

He smooths shaky fingers down the collar. Suddenly sees red when he tugs on the lapel, snatching the girl up, and she shrieks, her feet dangling above the floor. The other women yelp in terror, shrinking away from Sylus’ ire. He must look like a monster to them. As beastly as the men who ripped them from their homes. From freedom. But he doesn’t care as anguish drives him into rage.

It’s rare he loses his cool. But when it comes to you, things just hit differently.

“Where did you get this?” Sylus demands. He’s breathy. There's a manic look in his eyes. He’s desperate. Running out of time. For all he knows, they could’ve already sold you off to the highest bidder.

Or worse.

The girl donning your coat says nothing. Too shell-shocked, her voice corked in her throat. He recognizes the look in her eyes all too quickly. Well acquainted with it, having seen it too often in his enemies before he extinguished them like a candle’s flame.

Gravity comes sinking back in. Sylus scans the space around, the fear in the dank space palpable.

He peers at the girl, at his hand fisted in the coat, disgusted with himself. They’ve already endured so much, and he’s only exacerbating their torment. Gently, he sets the girl down. After her feet return to the floor, something clanks on the wooden boards, and she scurries away. Sylus kneels to retrieve it, the telltale gleam of a crimson gem causing his muscles to tense.

The brooch.

Your brooch.

The tracker.

The fucking—

Fuck!

A tidal wave of grief crashes into him. He squeezes the pendant in his hand, its intricate carvings biting into his fingers. Anguish mars his features. He pinches his eyes shut, curling into himself. The girls cling to the lining of the truck, scared witless.

He tamps down an impulse to scream. Instead punches the wooden floor. Punches and punches until the skin of his knuckles split, and his fist is raw, bleeding red.

You wanted him to find them first. These girls who’d been snatched away from their families, their livelihoods. Sold to deplorable men to do revolting things. To suffer. To die.

To you, this was personal. Sylus fought against using you as bait to draw out the ringleader of this trafficking act. But you wore him down, citing that he owed you this moment of redemption. Why you sought him out all those years ago.

You fucking martyr.

The trailer grows silent. Sylus feels numb as he stands, chest heaving. His fist has already mended itself when he dismounts the truck in a daze, leaving the girls cowering in his wake.

Luke and Kieran, as if sensing their boss’s shock, call him back to the present in his earpiece.

“Boss?” cautions Luke, the radio silence alarming.

“I’ve found them,” Sylus states, his tone grim. Detached. Dejected.

“And the little boss?” Kieran queries, optimism breaking through the static.

Sylus’ silence serves as their answer.

There’s a pause before Luke cryptically disrupts it. “On the way, boss,” he promises before the line cuts dead.

Sylus stares at the ground. Dissociates, starting away from the truck before the sound of merriment catches his ears.

His attention’s drawn to a sizable ship on the opposite side of the pier. It cuts a sleek outline against the horizon, bordered by smaller passenger boats.

He narrows his eyes. Homes in on the ship, exhaling slowly. If he were an auctioneer, he would hold it somewhere in plain sight. Somewhere seemingly innocent that wouldn’t raise any suspicions. What better guise than a party?

Hope spumes through him. Adrenaline. You’re so crafty sometimes, it hurts. The brooch was merely a marker. You knew he’d assemble the pieces the moment you found the others and left your brooch where he could track it.

You could very well be aboard that ship, waiting to be sold off. Waiting to be returned to a life you fled from years ago. He could only hope he was right in his deduction.

Sylus sinks into the vantablack abyss of his Evol, setting course for the cruise ship at the pier's edge. He clings to the idea that you’re onboard, safe and sound, waiting to cuss him out for taking so long to find you.

—

He needed a distraction.

There were too many innocents onboard. Or, so they seemed. He couldn’t glean the difference when he landed on the deck. He had a one-track mind.

A few partygoers eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps he didn’t blend in with his wind-swept hair, harrowed features, and suit stained dark with blood.

Regardless of their intrigued looks, he wended through the crowd. Scanned the scenery, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Anything to signal nefarious dealings taking place aboard the cruise ship. Anything that could lead him to you.

He’d heard whisperings as he descended to the mid-levels of the ship. Hushed tones speaking of meetings for the elite taking place on the lower decks.

He clung to the bits of information he extracted. Pieced them together. Found his way to the kitchen. The staff was clueless to his presence—or they ignored him, too busy whipping up meals for the ship’s guests.

Sylus grabbed who he assumed was the sous chef by the collar. Pinned him with a stare that promised pain if he wasn’t compliant.

The man cowered in his hold. The remaining cooks caught wind of it, shrinking away from Sylus’ imposing, blood-speckled figure. From the malevolence pouring in waves off his skin.

“There’s a fire in the galley,” Sylus stated between the man’s eyes. The sous chef looked at him with pinched brows. Confusion showed through his fear, as nothing was amiss.

Sylus would soon change that.

“I would advise you to start clearing out your staff. Now.” He punctuated his sentence with a growl, tossing the chef back a few paces until he stumbled into his coworkers.

They weren’t moving quick enough for Sylus, so he set his plan in motion. Turned a few knobs with a flicker of his Evol, a fire sparking on the stove. It erupted into something more menacing, the flames licking the ceiling, triggering the sprinkler system.

The kitchen staff finally sprung into action. Hurriedly poured out of the room as the shrill cry of the fire alarm pervaded the air.

With his hair matted to his face and his mouth drawn into a rigid line, Sylus moved further through the kitchen. Descended to the lower floors as people rushed past him, all seeking refuge from the fire.

At least this way, he could wheedle out the scum who’d taken you while sparing the innocent a horrible fate.

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #sylus #sylus angst #lads x reader #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #limerence series #lnds x reader #lnds x you #l&ds x reader #lnds fanfic #lads fanfic

653 notes · View notes

1d1195 · 6 months ago

Text

Invitation

~3.5k words

From me: I mentioned I had a kinda rough weekend. This just sort of wrote itself. Def a stand alone. Second chance at love. I wrote it mostly in the drafts page and didn't do a whole lot of editing for continuity so it's probs not very realistic nor will it make a ton of sense. But anyway.

Warnings: MC parent death; funeral, angst, angst angst. But I'm hoping if you read it you'll see some cathartic, comforting fluff.

Summary: She and Harry broke up years ago and it was completely fine. But seeing her again, even under sad circumstances has his heart pulling him closer to her.

It had been eight years since he had last laid eyes on her. But when he read the piece on her mum off a mutual friend’s Facebook page he was transported back to one of those moments he spent so totally in love with her.

The idea that her best friend was gone made him terrified for her well being. It was the reason he was in a hotel room, straightening his tie in the mirror. Double checking he didn't miss any spots while shaving. He looked simultaneously presentable yet solemn. Her mum was special, beautiful. She made Harry feel at home the entire time they dated. Bought him thoughtful gifts for his birthday and Christmas. Made sure she bought his favorite snacks and always inquired about school, work, or his favorite show. She joked with her that Harry was too good for her and she didn’t treat him well enough (which was inherently false). She was the perfect girlfriend and had the perfect mum.

He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling.

Harry didn’t want to make his appearance about his arrival at the funeral home at all. He stepped in line silently, tried not to make eye contact with anyone and slowly made his way through toward the front, pretending he was invisible. He looked at the picture boards as he walked along his favorite girl and her mother in so many of them. Both were beautiful and Harry thought she was going to look just like her mother when she was older and so he was really lucky that he would know she was beautiful for the rest of his life. But he would have predicted that anyway.

Their relationship ended amicably enough. They were changing, time moving on, and quite frankly it felt like they couldn't spend enough time together so it didn't seem fair. "Shouldn't we want t'spend time with each other, beautiful? Shouldn't we feel feel bad we're not spending time together? It shouldn't be forced. You're m'favorite person in the world, kitten. S'not fair."

He was right of course. She agreed. So they went their separate ways. Since they were still in university at the time, they saw each other frequently. Their friend groups overlapped a bit so they weren't rid of each other all that much until after graduation. There was even a picture of the pair of them together on that day--her mum's suggestion. It was apparent more so then, that they were changing and moving on but Harry was grateful for that picture. When he saw the notice of her mum's passing, he looked at it fondly and felt something in the pit of his stomach. Wanting and wishing he had made more time for her. That she wasn't so busy and their time apart hadn't lasted as long.

But that was eight years ago. Harry was thirty now. He had a few girlfriends during that time and maybe it wasn't a surprise they didn't work out. When he inquired of his friends if he should go to support her, they said it was up to him. Louis and Eleanor were out of the country so they would send flowers. Mitch and Sarah were waiting for Sarah to give birth at any moment so they too, would send flowers.

"I'll be at the funeral," Niall assured him. "I can't make the visiting hours, sorry, Harry," Harry could hear his frown as they spoke on the phone.

"S'okay, s'nice y'can make it t'any of it. She'll appreciate it."

"I hope," a frown in his voice, a sigh in his tone.

"No, she will," Harry was confident. She would never make Niall feel bad--anyone feel bad. It was just the way she was.

Harry was in front of the urn containing the ashes of her mother and he knelt and said a short prayer for her and her sweet daughter. He tried not to think about his own mother at such a sad time and how he would feel if this was her. He shook his head, blessed himself automatically, and stood to greet the receiving line. It was filled with aunts and uncles who were surprised to see him. He didn't fully understand their surprise (of course he would be there for her--even if things were different now) but moved to each one, quietly apologizing for the loss of their sister and only answering how work, life, and everything was with as few words as possible. It was just her and her mom. Dad was out of the picture before she was even born. It wasn't a bad thing because she was her mum's whole life and she never made her want for anything. "Where is she?" Harry asked quietly. Usually the children were first in the line but she wasn't there.

"Another spat with the boyfriend," her aunt rolled her eyes. "You are by far our favorite," she smiled at him encouragingly. "Don't leave till she gets back, if you can. She deserves to see someone who will make her happy right now," she winked.

Harry felt his eyebrows crawl up his forehead in surprise. He nodded. Pride bloomed inside him for being the favorite. It wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. His heart felt heavy, worried she was with someone horrible. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

So Harry stayed in the little seating area, watching people walk through the receiving line, looking at the slideshow of pictures that somehow managed to boil down to one person's life. There was even a picture or two of him. It made sense, he was in her life for nearly four years and they were inseparable until they weren't.

Harry smiled fondly at the memories within the pictures and wondered where she could be right now. He had seen the full slideshow twice.

"Harry, you're still here?"

He cleared his throat, stood, and shook one of her uncle's hands again. "Yeah... um... haven't seen her yet."

"She went outside with the boyfriend ages ago. I'm assuming they're still arguing or she's trying to calm herself down enough to come in and fake that everything's fine."

Harry frowned. "Maybe I'll go check then," he suggested and headed for the door.

Why was she dating someone if it was clear no one in her family liked him?

The men at the door, let Harry through and he quietly walked to the side of the building wondering where she could be having a private conversation at a funeral home. The side was dark except for a flood light that perfectly illuminated the couple. Harry stepped out of sight but strained to listen.

"What do you mean, 'you have to go'? You're seriously joking right?"

Harry didn't know her voice could take on a tone that sounded so angry like that. They never fought that way. No more than who's pizza topping was better or if they had to pick which dinner place to go to on a busy Saturday night.

"Babe, you know with my work--"

"This is my mother," she croaked. It felt like a bullet through Harry's chest to hear her choked up like that. All that grief wrapping in her throat and pulling on her vocal cords.

"I know, but don't you think she would want me to continue living my life and doing what I need to do so--"

"She's my best friend," her voice cracked because she was crying so hard. Harry wanted to run over, unceremoniously knock him to the ground, and comfort her. "You're supposed to be here to support me!"

"Well you know death kind of freaks me out, babe. I'm trying to support our future. I've been here all day."

Her tone was so biting, he truly couldn't believe it. "You've been here for an hour."

Harry winced and shook his head. No one liked death. Everyone was freaked out by it to some degree. But he was supposed to love her; be there for her.

"If you leave, we're done," Harry felt intrusive for listening in but he couldn't move.

"You don't mean that."

"I do, mean that. I really, really, really, really mean that," she sniffed. Good girl. Harry thought. "I have put up with your bullshit like this for way too long and you're unsupportive and if you leave this is it," she assured him. "Work cannot be more important than me."

"It's important for us, babe. So when we get married--"

"And when will that be?" She shouted.

"For the love of God, we're going to do this now?"

"It's been three years. I'm thirty and wanted kids and you are just..." she trailed off. "Fine. Go. We're done anyway."

"Babe, you don't mean that--"

"I will pack my stuff up when I get home."

"And where are you going to go? You don't have a job right now--"

"BECAUSE I WAS TAKING CARE OF MY DYING MOTHER."

Why was she even with this guy? Harry couldn't fathom it. It was so unlike her to date someone so crass and careless. Or maybe Harry was just filled with rage and envy of a man that couldn't help her the way she deserved.

"Well..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I have a plane to catch. Maybe after you've calmed down and aren't grieving we can have a more pleasant conversation."

A silent moment passed between them. Surely he heard it as he said it. It couldn't have been just her and Harry that heard what he implied. "Do... do you... do you think I'm supposed to be done grieving?" She hissed.

He sighed, mumbled something about calling her when he landed, and walked away. He didn't even notice Harry pressed to the building.

Harry watched him get in his car and pull away as if this wasn't the worst day of her life. Harry took several deep breaths to calm himself. This wasn't about him or how he wanted to strangle him. This was about her, her grief.

She was leaning against the wall. She was heaving, sobbing into one hand. For what, at that point, Harry didn't know. He could only see her from behind, the same figure he could have picked out in a lineup and if he was blind. But she seemed smaller. Withdrawn of course. Her free arm wrapped around her stomach like she was trying to hold herself together.

"Hey beautiful," he murmured softly. She sniveled, spun around. Harry was met with her face grief stricken, heartbroken, and tear soaked. But yeah, she was still as beautiful as he remembered. "Aw, kitten," he cooed gently. "C'mon s'cold outside. Let's get you--"

She threw herself against him as he approached. Her arms around his neck and she continued her sobbing against his shoulder. Sighing, he wrapped his arms wrapped around her waist and back, she fit effortlessly into his embrace even after eight or so years since he last saw her. It felt natural to hold her like this. "I know," he murmured comfortingly. "I know, kitten," he kissed the side of her head, soothingly rubbing his hand up and down her spine.

"Please don't let go of me," she cried. "I can't--"

"Shh," he hushed. "M'here. M'not letting go until you do," he promised softly. He hoped she wouldn't pull away because he wanted to take care of her the way that asshole couldn't. It didn't matter what the past was it only mattered that her sweet self could find some sort of contentment.

"Please don't leave me," she begged. "I can't do this alone."

It felt like a switch changed in him. Or maybe it was the anger he felt for her ex-boyfriend. Or perhaps a combination of missing her when he didn't really know he had been missing her and all the frustration he felt for the reasons she was so distraught. He would do anything for her. "No way, beautiful. M'not going anywhere," he assured her pressing his lips instinctively to the top of her hair. Patiently he listened to her cries, held her tightly, and lightly brought a hand to the side of her neck. He carefully pressed his fingertips against her skin, hoping that if she was aching (which he assumed every part of her was) it relieved the smallest bit of tension.

"How much did you hear?" She sniveled pulling away enough to glance into his eyes. Her face was blotchy and red, she was sure. Harry looked like he just left his modeling job for ties and cologne. She wanted to look more beautiful--so it would have at least made sense that Harry had ever decided to date her--even if it was years ago. But she was so overwhelmed with sadness, she couldn't feel anything but that and not even her horrendous look could deter her long enough to utter more than a quick apology for snotting all over him. "M'sorry. I look--"

"Shh," he hushed immediately. Harry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket--Mum was always insistent he have one when he wore a suit. Someone is always crying when you need to wear a suit and it's not to work. Carefully, he dabbed under her eyes, and swiped the fabric across her delicate cheeks. "You look beautiful," he assured her a kind, small smile made his lips curl up just enough to get the dimple in his cheek to appear. The one she had told him she was going to stick her tongue in back when they laid on a mattress that was too small for two people and resulted in a giggling tickle fight between two people who were much too old for tickle fights.

What he would have given to make her laugh now.

Harry kept one arm around her waist taking over her own job to hold herself together. "How much did you hear?" She repeated.

He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Too much, probably."

She frowned; if she could muster an emotion other than sadness and grief, she probably would have been embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry. I was waiting inside, but then your uncle said y'were out here and I wanted t'see you and--"

"Do you need to leave?" She asked quickly. "I'm sorry I'm holding--"

"Kitten," he said gently pinching her chin between his fingers so she had no choice but to look in his eyes and process what he was saying. "M'staying here until y'tell me t'leave."

She sighed. For the first time in what felt like months she felt relief. "Okay."

She dragged him alongside her to the front of the receiving line. Harry felt slightly embarrassed and out of place but the rest of her family paid no attention to it. Like he was supposed to be there. She hugged and cried a lot over the next two hours. Harry handed her tissues and water.

“What if I don’t tell you to leave?” She whispered. Harry was standing so close to her that no one else could hear. Like it was just the two of them. She was sipping from a water bottle and Harry was stroking her hair back with his fingers while wiping below her eyes with a tissue.

“Then I’ll never go," his voice was quiet, like hers. He kissed her forehead softly.

"You don't have to obviously, you have no obligation... but is there any chance you were planning to be here tomorrow?" She asked.

He nodded hurriedly. "Course, kitten," he smiled gently, almost sad that she thought he wouldn't. "Niall's going t'come too. He's really sorry he couldn't make it tonight," he explained. "I have a hotel room right nearby so I can stay s'long as y'need me. Do anything y'need, too. And Niall m'sure would be happy t'help if y'need anything requiring two people, as well."

"Really?" A fresh well of tears filled her eyes and Harry's grin grew even if it was sad she was so surprised.

"Of course, beautiful. We... we want t'be here for you," he assured her.

She pressed her face against his shoulder again and sniveled against him. "I owe you a new suit," she mumbled into the fabric.

"Shh..." he hushed. "M'here," he promised. "Don't worry 'bout anything else."

His hotel room was dark when they entered. Harry didn’t want anything to happen that could be misconstrued due to her grief but she seemed adamant and sure that she wanted to spend the night. Harry was planning to sleep on the floor but instead they chatted way too much. Much later than a girl who had her mum’s funeral the following morning should have chatted. She giggled the way Harry loved and smiled despite how sad she was. Harry told her all about the last eight years, his job, his mum, their old friends and everything in between.

When he looked at the clock, his phone said it was well past one in the morning and she needed to be up early. “Think y’need t’sleep, kitten,” he was lying beside her, fully clothed except he lost the tie. He was brushing her hair away from her face watching her eyes droop.

“Mom didn’t like him,” she whispered. “She didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you,” she told him.

Harry swallowed nervously. Not because he was worried about her sentiment but because her grief was fresh and the tire tracks of where her stupid ex peeled out of the parking lot were still warm. Her mind had to be jumbled and as much as he wanted to kiss her and make promises, it wasn’t the time. Harry was older and more mature now. The way he wasn’t but wished he had been when they broke up. “After that performance, beautiful,” he sighed with a shake of his head. “M’surprised she didn’t poison him.”

“He didn’t even like her oatmeal raisin and white chocolate chip cookies,” she grumbled bitterly.

“Kitten,” he tutted. “How could you let that continue?” He joked, nudging her playfully.

She turned on her side, their faces inches apart on the same pillow. “Thank you for being here for me,” she whispered.

“There’s no where else I want t’be, beautiful,” he promised.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you. It’s sad this is what it took.”

He leaned forward, pressed his lips to her forehead and let the kiss linger there. “Do y’want me t’sleep on the floor?”

“No,” she shook her head. “This is the first night I’ve felt tired in months. You have to stay here if you want me to sleep through the night.”

“If you’re sure,” he reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. He didn’t want to change into different clothes or anything. He just wanted to be there for her.

“This is also your hotel room that I invited myself into," she reminded him.

He grinned at her in the dark. “You’ve always had an open invitation, t’me, kitten,” he brought her closer toward him, kissing the top of her head.

There would be about a thousand and one things to discuss after the funeral. But right then it was late, and they needed to sleep because the day was going to bring more exhaustion and sadness that was inevitable. “Did you mean it?” She whispered quietly after Harry thought she had fallen asleep.

“Mean what, beautiful?” He murmured.

“You’ll never go?”

He nodded. “Mmm,” he hummed inhaling the scent of her shampoo. “I meant it,” his words were slurred with sleep and she knew it because she had heard it in his voice hundreds of times in their time together. He was on the brink of dreaming and her mind was reeling.

“Mom wanted us to get back together,” she whispered. “For ages. She had our graduation picture on the fridge,” she explained. “When I was taking care of her these last few months and he was useless, she kept mentioning you. Told me it wasn’t too late to start over. I guess... I guess this was one way she thought she could bring us back together.”

There was no response because Harry had fallen asleep, and she was close behind. She brought the hand that held his to her lips and kissed his fingers inhaling the comforting smell of him as she finally felt like sleep.

“Your mum was the best,” he mumbled. “She brought you into this world, just for me t’find you.”

The words were lost in her mind, her throat, and her aching heart. But she liked to believe that Harry knew already because he was there, and he wasn’t planning on leaving again.

“We can start over, beautiful. M’not going anywhere,” he whispered one more time as sleep overtook her tired mind.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissitnhekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204

@angeldavis777

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #harry styles #second chance romance!harry #invitation

627 notes · View notes

belphies-cowgirl · 8 months ago

Text

Maybe once or twice a month, Lucifer, MC, and Barbatos go on a huge grocery shopping trip together.

Barbatos enjoys the company, and Lucifer doesn't mind, and both can spend time with MC without interference, and it gives them both a nice domestic feeling. they can plan meals for each week or help each other find deals, etc. I can also see Lucifer and Barbatos (and sometimes Mammon) clipping coupons together. MC usually ends up carrying a long last-minute list, and it makes Lucifer pinch the bridge of his nose even though he called a family meeting and had everyone say what they wanted or needed the night before.

Mammon joins sometimes because he helps them spot sales or save more money. Beel usually doesn't because he pretty much needs to be prevented from eating everything in the store the whole time. and Asmo spends too long in the beauty aisle, and most of it is spent looking in the little mirrors rather than looking at products to buy (he has to look in each mirror at least twice).

Belphie usually can't stop falling asleep, so he has to be put in the shopping cart, and Lucifer has to put groceries on or around him. Levi goes on rants about anime recipes he wants to serve for dinner and ends up doubting if anyone will want to eat it because it was made by a "loser otaku." Lucifer usually reaches his limit, grabs the ingredients, puts them in the basket, and walks away (he secretly enjoys trying Levi's anime recipes). and we all know why Satan would be the last person to tag along.

Diavolo gets a bit jealous about these trips because he wants to spend time with his three favorite people. come on, Barbatos, please, he's done the majority of his work for the day, and it's just for a few hours. he promises he'll finish the rest of his work afterward :(

✄ ——————————————————————

comments & reblogs are very appreciated :)

please do not use my work as your own!

923 notes · View notes

obeymeshallwedateaddict · 6 months ago

Text

Accidental first kiss

I was wondering.. what if MC and each of the brothers shared an accidental first kiss that was unexpected but highly appreciated that may or may not have led to something more. So I wrote it. Enjoy!

Contains: Fuff

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

............................................................................

Lucifer

Lucifer ordered you to bring a few books from the RAD library that would help him for his latest report that Diavolo requested. The problem is that the books are not just a few. They are a whole pile! You swear there are like 10-15 books in your arms that are so heavy you have to take multiple breaks on the way from the RAD library to The House of Lamentation. And on top of everything you can barely see where you're going with all those books in your arms. How will even Lucifer manage to go through all of them to find what he is looking for in just a couple of hours? And why didn't he send someone with you to help? This man is full of secrets. When you finally reach his study after who-knows-how-long you knock on the door and sigh while waiting for Lucifer's simple and calm "Come in." It's frustrating how Lucifer is doing absolutely nothing and is completely relaxed while you carry around a huge pile of heavy books. You feel as though your arms are about to rip. You open the door and see Lucifer sitting calmly on one of the armchairs with a glass of demonus in hand listening to the faint sound of the record that's playing in the background. But then suddenly you trip over the loose rug and before you know it Lucifer in his demon form is right there holding you in his arms. His wings are wrapped around you, preventing you from falling. Accidentally though your lips brush against his as you try to keep your balance. Both of you immediately freeze in your tracks. That was your first kiss... All the books are there, surrounding you on the floor while Lucifer's eyes are on you, slightly widened with the red glint in them shining bright and a soft blush covering his cheeks. You probably look the same but you can't bring yourself to care. After a full minute of silence you feel Lucifer's grip on you tighten and his breath by your ear as he whispers in a firm tone. "Again." Before kissing you one more time. The right way. The kiss was passionate and full of pent up tension.

Mammon

You, Mammon and the rest of the brothers (except Lucifer, because he said he had an important meeting with Diavolo) are playing hide and seek in The House of Lamentation. It's nice when Lucifer is out of the house once in a while and you as well as his brothers have extra free time. You always think of something to do whether it will be to play a game, to run around the house like wild animals (which always ended up in Lucifer's room with all of you on your knees before the eldest because someone broke a vase or a painting) or playing hide and seek just like today. It was Mammon's turn to seek while you and the rest were hiding around the house. You have been hiding behind the door in Mammon's room because you thought the demon wouldn't think you'd be in his room. Chuckling to the few loud "Found ya's" of Mammon and the brother's groans when they were found led to you being the last one to be found. You waited patiently behind the door, counting the minutes that had passed when the door opened. You see Mammon's boot walk in and decide to scare him (Since our boy is easily scared) You jump from behind the door with a loud "Boo!" Mammon screams and turns around but you were right behind him which caused your lips to meet in the sudden turn. Your first kiss! He immediately pulls away and takes a few steps back, panting even though the kiss wasn't something big. His whole face was red and he was staring at you with wide eyes. You chuckle to the sight even though your cheeks have also taken a pinkish shade. After a short few seconds he speaks so loud you swear the whole house can hear him.

-Oi! Human! Don't scare me off like that! What's the big idea of kissin' me hm? – You roll your eyes.

-What? You liked it so much you want another? – You tease and he scoffs.

-Of course I didn't like it

Silence follows as you wait for the second-born's confession, staring at him.

-F-fine! I liked it, MC. No!! I loved it!

Leviathan

For the past few days Levi has been bragging about this new VR set he bought and how amazing it was. Today he had finally invited you to try it out. You were excited since Levi mentioned the high quality of the set. Your only concern was the fact that the third-born mentioned that he bought the set for cheap off of Akuzon. You teased him for acting like Mammon at the time and he offered you a grumpy face. You knock on his door in anticipation.

-What's the secret phrase? – You roll your eyes and knock loudly.

-Oh come on Levi! We are way past your goddamn secret phrase! – You speak loudly enough so he could hear your slight frustration.

-Secret phrase is required to enter my room and you know it, MC – Says Levi through the door with a hint of mischief in his yet serious voice.

-Oh my god, Levi! Ugh what was it... (You mumble the last part to yourself)

-The second lord... – You begin.

-...attempted to steal the Lord of Corruption's platypus, which could lay golden eggs... – The third born continues

-...having incurred the wrath of the Lord of Corruption for this misdeed...

-...it was ordered that the second lord would be forever dubbed The Lord of Fools... You may enter. – You and Leviathan finish the secret phrase and you finally enter.

-Levi, don't you think it's too long?

-What's too long?

-The secret phrase.

-Absolutely not. – Levi chuckles awkwardly.

After that Levi helps you put on the VR set and you play an adventurous game where you are a devil slayer. You get so caught up in the game that you lose track of time and levi just cheers on you the whole time, watching you play on his monitor. Unfortunately though the electricity turns off and so does the game. You were right in the middle of a fight so you swirl and bump into the third-born which causes your lips to meet. Your first ever kiss! You immediately pull away and take the VR set off. The whole room is silent and dark. The only thing you can see is the faint yellow glow from Levi's eyes and hear his hitched breathing.

-W-w-w-we didn't j-j-j-just... – The purple haired demon stutters.

-We just kissed.. – You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You can practically sense the blush on his cheeks.

-AHHHHH NOOO WAYYYY I JUST K-K-KISSED MY BEST FRIEND AAAAHHH – Levi screams and you chuckle.

Satan

You were in your room reading a beauty magazine that Asmo had lent you when a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts.

-MC, can I come in?

You glanced up, not expecting any visitors, but knowing how random the brothers could be.

-Yeah –you called out, loud enough for whoever it was to hear. The door opened to reveal blond hair and bluey-green eyes, and your expression immediately brightened. It was Satan! It wasn’t often he came to your room unannounced, so you knew he had something on his mind.

-MC, I need your help with something –the fourth-born said, his tone serious yet inviting. You gave him a curious look and mumbled, “Mhm?”

-I’ve been looking for a book but can’t find it in the library alone. Will you help me?

-Of course, Satan.

You both made your way to the library. When you arrived, he revealed the title of the book: "Worst Curses for Prideful Demons." The title almost made you laugh; it was clearly aimed at Lucifer.

After about half an hour of searching, you and Satan finally reached a bookshelf where the book might be. There it was, on one of the upper shelves. Both of you reached for it simultaneously, causing your bodies to collide. In an unexpected turn of events, your lips met his in a brief, accidental kiss.

He pulled back slightly, his breath still warm on your lips, his cheeks a rosy pink and his eyes wide with surprise. Before you could react, you felt his fingers intertwine with yours as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

-I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time – he whispered into your ear, holding you close.

Asmodeus

Diavolo was hosting a masquerade ball in the Devildom in a couple of weeks and it was set to be the biggest event in Devildom's history! A lot of demons were going to attend: royals, nobles and commoners alike. Though the only problem was that you still didn't have a dance partner for the event. One night just as you were about to go to bed someone barged in through the door.

-MC, sweetheart! Yours truly has come to visit you with an important question! – The fifth-born states confidently while closing the door.

-What is it, Asmo? I was going to bed... – You mutter with a tired tone.

-Will you dance with me? – The sudden question caught you off guard and your eyes widen before staring at him with a questioning look.

-What dance? – You asked, still processing his sudden entrance.

-The masquerade ball, Hun! I want you to be my partner for the ball! – You smile widely when you hear that and run up to hug him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you gently.

-So? – He asks.

-Of course! – you exclaimed.

However, there was only one problem. You didn't know how to dance. And on top of everything you were told that the dance was exceptionally complex. Just the thought of that made your head spin. When you mentioned that to Asmodeus he just smiled at you and told you not to worry. He was going to teach you the dance! And there you were.. a few days later in the living room of The House of Lamentation. Asmo was guiding you into the dance. He was dancing so effortlessly while you struggled to keep up with the intricate moves.

-One, two, three... One, two, three.. – Asmo repeated as you watched your feet.

-One, two- No, MC! The other leg! – He spoke but you stumbled upon your feet and fell into the fifth born's arms.

-MC! Be careful! – He warns when he catches you but then your lips accidentally meet his for the first time. He doesn't pull away. Instead he kissed you gently with a smirk growing on his face. His lips were moving graciously against yours. But you were too shocked to return the kiss. After it ends you look away from him in embarrassment, which earns you chuckle.

-MC... Oh my sweet MC.. why didn't you tell me you wanted to kiss? – Your cheeks take a deeper shade of pink to his words.

Beelzebub

It was late into the night. You were quietly watching an anime that Levi recommended. You made sure to be careful so you wouldn't be heard by Lucifer during one of his patrols. All of a sudden though someone walks in through the door and terror floods your expression, thinking it's Lucifer who somehow heard the sound from the anime. You quickly cover yourself but you quickly realise it was unnecessary when a large hand pats over the blankets.

-MC? Are you awake? – The voice of the sixth-born echoes through the room quietly and you sigh in relief when you recognize whose it is.

-Beel! You scared me! I thought it was Lucifer! – You snap at him while making sure to keep your voice down.

-He finished the patrol one hour ago. I assume he is either asleep or doing work in his room at the moment. – Beelzebub explains and you nod as a sign that you understand.

-Alright. Anyway, Beel. What are you doing here at this hour?

-I was hungry and I decided to bake some sweets. I just thought you would want to help me. – the orange haired demon murmurs.

-I would love to help! – You answer him happily.

About 20 minutes later you find yourself in the kitchen with Beelzebub. You are at your fifth attempt at making cookie dough, because Beel had finished the previous batches before you could even tell him to sample them. And the fifth attempt is the lucky one! Beel has kept his hands to himself the whole time while you were making the dough.

-Vanilla extract right? – Beel asks as he looks at the almost-ready-to-bake dough.

-I'll get it. – You respond and reach for the vanilla extract in the cupboard. After you take it, it accidentally slips out of your hands and falls on the floor. Fortunately the little container was plastic and it didn't break or spill. You bend down, reaching to get it when suddenly the sixth-born's lips meet yours. You immediately pull away and look at him with flushed cheeks. Turns out you were so focused on the little container of vanilla extract that you didn't notice Beel who also had bent down to get it after it fell and there you were. Gazing at Beel whose cheek color was matching yours and you two had just shared a soft first kiss. The scent of chocolate and dough filled the kitchen, along with the warmth of the oven, which was ready for baking.

-MC, I don't think I'm that hungry anymore. – Beelzebub whispers to you, which makes you blush even more, realising that all this time he was hungry for a kiss. Not for chocolate chip cookies.

Belphegor

You were walking down the hallway to your next class at RAD when you heard the seventh-born's voice echo through the hallway.

-MC! There you are! Could I talk to you for a bit?

You turn to face him and wait for him to walk up to you.

-Yeah? What's up? – you question.

-Are you free tonight? Tonight there is going to be a big starfall in the Devildom and I was wondering if you'd want to watch it together? – He asks, looking at you with a hopeful look.

-Of course! I haven't witnessed a starfall in a long time! –You state in excitement.

-Great! I will see you in the planetarium after dinner! –The excitement in Belphegor's eyes to watch a starfall with you makes your heart melt.

When dinner time comes you're already impatient for the starfall and barely manage to sit through the whole dinner. Afterwards you rush to the planetarium and see Belphegor napping quietly on a fluffy blanket that's spread on the floor with candles surrounding it. They are giving a cozy glow and warmth. The thought that Belphie did all of this for you makes you happy.

-Belphie, I'm here. – You say in an attempt to wake him up. Though he shows no signs of doing so. You walk up to him and sit on the blanket. Chuckling to the cute sight of the youngest sleeping so peacefully you lay down and watch the sky, waiting for the starfall. After a few minutes you feel commotion and turn to look at Belphegor who seems to have woken up.

-Hm? MC? Why didn't you say you arrived? – He questions.

-When I came you were sleeping and if I tried to wake you you wouldn't even move, so I decided to let you sleep. – You explain to the demon while he rubs his eyes.

You and Belphegor talk while waiting for the starfall to begin. After a few minutes you notice something moving in the sky and as you were leaning on both your arms you move one of them to point out the beginning of the starfall.

-Belphie! Look!

Unexpectedly though you lose balance and fall onto Belphegor who was following where your finger was pointing at the sky. Your lips meet his as he catches you. He takes a breath and kisses you gently before you pull away to see him flustered after your first kiss.

-You know... People say if you make a wish on a shooting star your wish comes true. I wished that someday I would gain the courage to kiss you. Turns out luck is on my side today. – Belphegor says quietly as your cheeks turn into a deeper shade of pink. And there you were with Belphegor after sharing a kiss under the night sky during a starfall, surrounded by candles and a cozy atmosphere.

421 notes · View notes

opiopal · 8 months ago

Text

the demon brothers with a people pleaser Mc,

At first it’s nice and convenient for them! Ask the human for something and they’ll just do it no questions asked,

But the closer they get to Mc the more they notice how their face contorts and scrunches slightly whenever they’re asked to do something or asked for something,

The way they’re eyes squint slightly as they force a smile and say “yes” instead of the “no” they’re pushing down, the way they can tell Mc is just exhausted and overwhelmed with how many things they can’t help but agree to, eventually once all the pacts are made and friendships are built the brothers start saying no for them and coming up with excuses, like walking through RAD with mammon and a demon approaches

Demon: hey mc! Could you help me with this assignment for potions? I heard you already finished it and I could use a cheat sheet!

Mc: ooh- uh.. sur-

Mammon: actually they already have plans, with me, no one else, so they can’t,

Or sitting in class and asmo just charms the person away,

Demon: Mc do you think you could stay after and help with the school gardens? It might only take a few hours,

Asmo: oh no sorry hon! I actually need Mc to help me with a few things, you don’t mind though, right?

Or satan, Lucifer, and belphie being more stern with people, satan with a passive aggressive “no. They can’t help you with a book report. Do it yourself.”, Lucifer with a very stern “they do not need more work on their plate at the moment. We would both appreciate if you asked someone else.” And belphie just straight up being mean about it, “no, they don’t want to do that. Are you seriously to stupid to to it yourself? Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Idk just food for thought🙃

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan

628 notes · View notes

blueblossomrose · 9 days ago

Text

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, fem!afab!mc, fluffy, too much fluffy, twst boys with teenage children. And questionable humor, of course. My trademark.

Notes: So, my country is in summer and here in Brazil summer is naturally hot since it's ahem, tropical country, but this year summer has been ABSOLUTE HELL abnormally hot so I need something to keep from going crazy. Preferably air conditioning on 24 hours, but since I don't have that option, I'm going to turn my frustration into fluffy.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Summer Season

The Queendom of Roses had never faced such an intense heat wave. Soon its residents were euphoric, especially certain not-so-eccentric families.

It was frankly absurd. People were already waking up exhausted, walking through the streets like zombies, the heat coming directly from the sun almost like it's melting their brains.

Everything was so hot that it was torture to be outside during the middle of the day.

It got to the point that the air conditioning in Riddle's office simply broke down. He spent the whole day attending to restless children and stressed mothers, amidst sweaty papers and a weak fan that only threw hot air from one side to the other. When he finally got home, sweaty and breathing heavily, his patience was already exhausted.

In this situation, it was absolutely unthinkable to stay home listening to his children complaining about the heat all day. [Name]'s suggestion, said with a carefree smile while fanning her face with a magazine, was that they go to the beach.

Riddle, of course, initially refused. The thought of sand sticking to his skin and the sun that would burn until his whole body was red made him even more exhausted.

But after the insistence of the two of them —his wife and daughter — he had to sigh and give in.

Now, there he was, sitting under a red-and-white striped umbrella, a wide-brimmed hat protecting his fair skin. His blue-gray eyes narrowed as he watched Violete, who was trying to sneak away to the water.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Riddle asked, his voice firm but not exactly stern.

“Uhhh… swimming?” the girl replied, as if it were obvious.

“I told you about that. Not without putting on sunscreen,” Riddle said flatly, pointing to the bottle in the bag next to him. The girl rolled her eyes and grumbled, but eventually reluctantly went back to her mother to apply sunscreen.

Meanwhile, Alex was sitting quietly under the umbrella next to [Name]. He shared the chair with his mother, who laughed softly at Violete's complaints. Alex seemed oblivious to everything, completely immersed in a game on his old blue Gameboy.

Riddle, from time to time, gave his son critical looks. It's not like he hated Alex's appreciation for video games, but God, did he have to have his face buried in that all day?

Alex had been like this since he was 9, when he got his Gameboy, gift from his mother. Now, at 14, he kept the same device, only changing the case from time to time, as if it were a way to personalize his digital adventure companion.

Violete, at sixteen, It was both what you expected and what you didn't expect from a teenager. Energetic and full of life, with a sarcastic and rebellious streak, her excitement was almost contagious. She had her own hobbies which involved video games with her brother as much as books and cricket. She had already jumped into the water as soon as the sunscreen ritual was over.

The short red strands, which she often curled, were now back to their natural state, flowing straight as they got wet. She was swimming happily, challenging small waves, when she noticed a group of people not far away. Two instructors were helping some tourists climb onto a large board, probably part of those leisure programs offered at the beach – canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding, something like that.

Violete swam closer and watched for a moment, until an idea popped into her head. Turning back to the sand, she raised her voice and called: “Dad!”

Riddle, who was finally starting to relax in his chair, looked up suspiciously. “What now?”

“Let’s get on the board together! It’ll be fun!” she shouted.

“Violete, I’m not getting on that board with you,” he replied immediately, with a seriousness that made Alex let out a small muffled laugh on the other side. [Name], next to him, just raised her eyebrows with a look of “let’s see how long you can resist.”

However, Violete was persistent, and his daughter’s insistent expression – the one she clearly inherited from her mother – eventually won out. A few minutes later, Riddle was in the water, visibly uncomfortable as he was guided to the board by a patient instructor and an overly excited daughter.

"This is a bad idea, Violete," he muttered, already feeling regret setting in as he put on a life jacket. "I'm a doctor, I know exactly how many ways this can go wrong."

"Dad, you need to relax!" Violete replied, smiling as she helped him onto the board, where she was already balanced with impressive ease. "It's going to be fun, trust me!"

But before Riddle could argue, the board swayed dangerously, and he grabbed onto his daughter with a suddenness she hadn't expected. "Violette!" he exclaimed, desperately trying to steady himself.

"Dad, you're pulling me under!" she protested, as she tried to steady them both. Riddle, for his part, was focused on not falling into the water, which seemed increasingly inevitable.

He looked back, seeing [Name] on the sand, waving at them with an amused smile. Alex didn't even look – the sound of the Gameboy buttons continued, indifferent to the family chaos that was happening in the sea.

The minutes when Violette guided the board towards the waves were the moments when Riddle despaired the most, although they managed to at least catch a good wave, even though they were completely unbalanced.

Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the inevitable happened. The board rocked to one side, then the other, and they both fell into the water with a big splash.

When he emerged, wet and irritated, but also, to his surprise, smiling, Riddle heard Violete's crystal-clear laugh.

"See, Dad? It was fun, wasn't it?!" her hands hit the water splashing more water on him.

"Ugh, stop!" even while complaining, Riddle was smiling, sometimes returning the splashes of water on his daughter.

"Huh? Where are dad and Vi?" Alex questioned as he lifted his head, [Name] laughed and pointed, just long enough for Alex to see his dad and sister catch a wave together before falling into the water again. Riddle was almost as desperate as you could imagine while Violete was in front on the board with the biggest smile in the world. A frankly hilarious frame.

The blazing midday sun seemed even more intense that unusual summer in the Queendom of Roses. The oppressive heat made even going out for simple activities like shopping at the Clover bakery a challenge. Still, the frozen treats that Trey made had become a sensation. Artisanal ice cream, fresh fruit pies, and refreshing drinks were flying off the shelves.

One afternoon, sitting at the small oak table in the back of the bakery, Trey rubbed his sweaty forehead as he watched his children play. Tim and Thomas were more interested in hanging out by the fan, while Rose ran around with seemingly inexhaustible energy despite the heat. He glanced over at [Name], who was waving a makeshift paper fan and mumbling something about how hot it's outside. It was then that an idea struck him.

How about take a trip to the falls?

A cool, peaceful place, and the perfect local to cool off.

Rose, being the youngest, immediately jumped up and down with excitement, Tim and Thomas, on the other hand, teenagers already at an age where they'd rather stay home with their phones or their own hobbies, didn't seem so excited. But family trip is mandatory, after all. It was an agreement they made with their parents.

Trey and [Name] arrived at the trailhead with their children, each carrying light backpacks filled with towels, snacks, and bottles of water. Rose bounced excitedly ahead, her small backpack bouncing as she droned on and on about how the waterfalls would be.

Tim, the oldest, trailed slowly, already sweating in the heat, his expression clearly reflecting his displeasure with the hike. “Why couldn’t we just buy ice cream and stay home with the fan on?” he muttered, earning an amused look from Trey.

Thomas, on the other hand, was somewhere in between, half-interested in the hike but clearly dead tired. He walked with his hands in his pockets, backpack and bag on the shoulder.

After a while, the trail opened up to reveal the waterfall. The view was spectacular: crystal clear water cascaded down, creating a refreshing mist that immediately took the edge off the heat. The surrounding vegetation was dense, with bright green leaves and colorful wildflowers that looked even more vivid in the sun.

Rose ran towards the shore, stopping only when Trey called her, asking her to wait while he and [Name] found a good spot for the towel. Tim, sighing, threw himself into the shade of a large rock, lying down like a sack of potatoes. “Wake me up when we leave,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

Thomas, however, took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed a handful of cold water and silently approached Rose. “Hey, Rose, look up!” he shouted, pointing to the top of the waterfall. When his sister looked up, he splashed her with ice-cold water, making her squeal.

“Thomas!” she protested, but she was already splashing him back, starting a water fight that soon involved Trey trying to calm them both down so that they wouldn't fall and hurt themselves on the rocks.

Meanwhile, [Name] was standing next to Tim, offering him a bottle of cool water. "You know you're going to want to get in the water soon," she said.

Tim opened a lazy eye. "Only if someone carries me there."

After a while, Tim gave in to the heat and joined his brothers in the water. Trey and [Name] watched, relaxing on the towel on the floor. Thomas and Rose were now trying to build a "dam" with rocks and branches, while Tim stood nearby, pretending not to care but discreetly helping them find the right branches.

As the time has passed, Trey stood up, adjusting his glasses and getting everyone's attention. "Time for a snack!" he announced, grabbing a small cooler with fruit, sandwiches, and some homemade pastries from the bakery.

Rose was the first to run, still dripping watee, while Thomas and Tim followed her. Like three Gremlins, they sat down and ate despite shivering from the cold from the thermal shock of the ice-cold water on the hot climate.

The end of the afternoon was spent peacefully, with the family resting and enjoying the relaxing sound of the waterfall. When they finally started to pack up their things, Rose complained that she wanted to stay a little longer, but Trey promised that they could return soon, eliciting a smile from her. The walk back was less lively – tiredness had finally taken over the trio, mainly Rose who was the central animation. Trey, with a soft smile, carried her backpack along with his, while [Name] chuckled softly at the funny observations her tired daughter even so made about every detail of the trail.

The hot season brought with it an unexpected relief from Cater’s hectic schedule. The scorching sun made everyone crave a break, and for him, that meant finishing work early and finding something more exciting to do with his family. After all, there was nothing worse than a interview in the sweltering heat, with people feeling sweaty and uncomfortable.

With an excited smile, Cater dragged his wife [Name] and children, Astrid and Rory, to a nature reserve by the sea. The place was perfect for disconnecting from the world. It offered ample space to swim and even snorkel with some of the sea creatures, creating a relaxing atmosphere full of photo opportunities that he loved to capture.

Astrid quickly raised her hand, as if she had asked an important question. “Can I swim with the sharks?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, her light orange hair lightly blowing in her face as she looked anxiously at her parents.

“Why on earth would you want to swim with sharks?” Rory replied.

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh, trying to lighten the situation. “I’m glad you want to go on an adventure, dear, but I think it would be better to start with something lighter, don’t you think?” she looked at Astrid with a calm smile.

Astrid grimaced, not completely convinced, crossing her arms and looking at her parents as if she were going to continue the argument. But before she could complain any further, a hand appeared underneath her, lifting her off the ground with ease. Cater placed her on his back, with Astrid laughing and squealing with excitement.

"Hey, hey! No arguing, let's just enjoy the moment, how about seeing the manta rays?" Cater suggested. "They like getting close to humans, and they're super harmless. It'll be really cool."

Astrid, with her face already lit up with a wide smile, put the grimace aside, agreeing with her father. She was excited about the idea, even more than with the sharks. Rory, still suspicious, looked at his sister and then at his parents, with a slight sigh. He couldn't deny that their enthusiasm was contagious.

And so the family began their walk to the water sports area, with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and the summer heat enveloping them all. Cater was happy to be sharing this moment with his wife and children, finally having some time to relax and enjoy life outside the chaos of journalistic work. Over the years, he has learned to appreciate life off-screen more.

To escape the hell that was the city that day, Ace decided that the best solution would be to take his family to a nearby river. Nothing too elaborate, but at least there they could cool off without having to spend a fortune on cold drinks or abuse his magic with cooling spells, which were a luxury that he, as someone from the ministry's accounting department, was not willing to abuse.

For a while, everything went peacefully. [Name] took off her shoes and dipped her feet in the water, relaxing as she watched her children venture further ahead. Lilian had already tied her orange-red hair into a ponytail, while Jasper stood with his arms crossed, evaluating whether it was worth getting in the water or if it would be more fun to tease his sister. Ace, on the other hand, already had his feet submerged and was throwing some water up, enjoying the coolness.

It was then that, out of nowhere, the tranquility was broken.

“So, Dad,” Lilian began, crossing her arms and giving him an inquisitive look, “How many girlfriends did you have before Mom?”

Ace blinked in confusion as he finished stretching in the water. “What? Where did that question come from?”

"You had a girlfriend before mom. And you didn't think to tell us, huh?"

Ace glanced sideways at [Name], who just chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation.

“What have you been telling them?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? Nothing!” [Name] replied with an innocent smile. “But your brother loves to tell stories.”

Ace groaned softly. His brother... he should have known.

"Lili, I didn't even know your mother when I broke up with this girlfriend!" he tried to argue to see if his daughter would change the subject.

But Lilian quickly dodged him and kept her accusatory expression. "Even so!" she insisted, now going closer to her mother, as if seeking reinforcement. "Uncle said you were a jerk to mom in the beginning! And what about the other girl?! You were nice to her?!"

Ace ran his hand over his face in disbelief. He had faced powerful adverse situations, being a troublemaker at school… but nothing compared to the fury of a teenage daughter determined to seek justice for her mother.

"Is this an interrogation?" he asked, raising his hands in surrender.

"It depends on your answer," Lilian replied with a frown.

"Look, I wasn't the easiest guy to deal with back then," Ace admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wasn't that bad either, okay?"

"What does that mean?!" Lilian insisted.

Ace sighed. "You know what? I'll ask your uncle what else he's been telling you. I mean, I should be enjoying the water, not defending my reputation from sixteen years ago!"

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a jerk, you wouldn't have to defend yourself now," Jasper scoffed.

"Are you two going to go swimming or keep tormenting me?"

Lilian and Jasper exchanged glances and, without warning, threw water at their father at the same time, this one who gasped offendedly.

"Sweetie, don't be so hard on your father," [Name] intervened, placing her hand gently on Lilian's hair, who was still pouting. "He wasn't perfect, but he learned a lot. And he certainly wasn't the only one who made mistakes." she chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair. "Although he really deserves some of the karma, I'd say."

"Oh, for the love of—!" Ace exclaimed, feigning indignation, while Jasper, on the other side, burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the situation. Ace an his wet hands over his face, as if that could alleviate the embarrassment. "This is absurd! Look here, I wasn't that horrible! What are you three trying to do to me, huh? A public lynching? Lili, I promise you, the only woman I've ever truly loved was your mother. No other woman has ever made me feel like she did, you little brat."

Lilian was still frowning. "Really?" she asked, a little suspicious.

"More than serious," he replied, with that carefree expression he always used when he tried to seem convincing. "And do you know what happens to those who don't believe in their dads?"

Before Lilian could react, Ace grabbed her by the waist, in a quick and agile movement, dragging her straight into the water.

She let out a high-pitched scream, taking everyone by surprise. "DAD!" she shouted, between laughter and protests, as she tried to free herself.

Water splashed around, and Lilian, now soaking wet, laughed loudly as she struggled to escape her father's embrace, but Ace, laughing along, held her tight. "Do you doubt me? Do you really think I don't love your mother?"

"I never said that!" Lilian replied, laughing and trying to balance herself. "But that doesn't justify throwing me in the water!"

Ace chuckled once more, releasing her and raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, little brat. Just don't question my love for you too."

The unbearable heat that had never been seen before in Queendom of Roses was demanding drastic measures from Deuce. He even thought about taking his family to a place like a beach or a river, but when he got home, he found an unexpected scene in the backyard.

The sound of children's laughter and water jets echoed in the hot air. His children and his wife were completely absorbed in the refreshing game with the garden hose. Matthew, in colorful shorts, held the hose tightly, laughing loudly as he shot jets of water in the direction of his mother and brother. Raphael, smaller and more agile, tried to escape by running clumsily, but was hit full on in the chest, making him let out a shrill laugh. [Name] was also soaked, her white blouse now stuck to her body due to the water, and strands of hair stuck to her face as she laughed, trying to shield herself behind her youngest son.

The scene are completely chaotic.

"Hey!" Deuce's voice broke the moment, firm and unexpected. His serious expression made Matthew's eyes widen and lowered the hose, "What are you doing getting your mother and brother wet like that, Matthew?" Deuce asked, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Dad, we were just-" Matthew started to justify himself, but was interrupted by Deuce snatched the hose from his hands and held it tightly.

A mischievous glint crossed his determined gaze, the same look he used to have in their old delinquent phase. "It has to be this way!" He turned the hose directly on Matthew and Raphael, blasting them with a jet of water strong enough to make them scream and laugh at the same time.

Matthew tried to run away, but Deuce was spot on—he aimed right at the boy’s back, making him squirm in surprise. Raphael, laughing nervously, tried to hide behind his mother, but Deuce quickly changed his target, and soon a cold jet hit [Name] as well. “Deuce!” she shouted, laughing as she raised her arms in a futile attempt to defend herself. “It's not fair!”

“Of course it's fair,” he snapped, amused by the general confusion that ensued. The boys joined in, trying to grab the hose from their father, but Deuce was faster and dodged it easily.

[Name] took advantage of a moment of distraction to run to a forgotten bucket in the corner of the garden. Before Deuce knew it, she had filled it and poured the water straight over his head. The shock of the icy water made Deuce hold his breath for a moment.

"Ah, now you've done it," he murmured, a smile breaking across his face before he charged at them, picking [Nome] up, making her squeal as he picked up the hose from the floor. Raphael and Matthew ran to escape, but Deuce was too fast to them. Within seconds, they were all completely soaked, laughing as if the unbearable heat had been forgotten.

Eventually, the garden became a water war zone, if it wasn't already before.

175 notes · View notes