#praying for a quality glow up

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer dotes on a mama!reader

・❥ Caring for an infant isn’t easy, but luckily, you’ve got a charming king willing to do anything for you.

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

x: reader is fem, no use of y/n.

xx: it’s here! a bit of angst, a bit of fluff, but lots of think you’ll enjoy it! keep your eyes out for some pretty art i commissioned inside!

~ 15k words

When you welcomed your daughter into the realm, and finally reached that next long stretch of motherhood, you had prepared yourself for the many changes that accompanied the new addition.

For example, your sleep schedule flipped entirely on its head once you realized that newborn babies slept only a few hours intermittently, which meant a good, long night's rest did not exist anymore. 

You found yourself putting your daughter down for a nap at six in the morning, having spent the previous night breastfeeding and soothing her cries. Sometimes, her wailing lasted several hours, and you began to worry if she had a hellish form of colic. You prayed it wasn’t that, because that would mean it would worsen for the next month or so.

The first few weeks were spent holed up in your room, away from the loud noises and constant active state of the rest of the hotel. It was pretty easy, seeing as it was basically a studio apartment, save for the kitchen, which was an exhausting walk down the hall, even more so than when you were pregnant. 

“Ya look terrible, mama,” Angel Dust had grimaced with a laugh when you appeared like a ghost late one night inside the much posher lobby, your complexion sunken and drained as your feet dragged across the red carpet.

He had just arrived home from a long day at the studio, his expression equally as drained but his demeanor much livelier than your zombie appearance.

You probably did look terrible, in your oversized pajamas that no doubt had stains of baby spit-up and breast milk. You looked unsightly, a mess, that pregnancy glow extinguished like a flame as you tiredly frog blinked in Angel’s direction. 

“Need… to clean the milk bottles… before she wakes up,” you mumbled, lifting three small, dirty baby bottles to view.

“Ya need any help?”

“No, thanks. M’fine,” you waved him off with a yawn, slowly crossing the room towards the kitchen doors. 

There was no reason to bother him with such a task, it was your baby, and he already had enough to deal with at the studio.

“Well, have a good time then. I'm jus’ gonna call it an early night an’ head ta bed,” Angel replied, bidding farewell as he turned and left the lobby. 

Your head twisted to catch a glimpse of his figure turning the corner, surprise crossing your features at his sudden departure. Usually, Angel Dust had a couple of drinks after work or went out to party until the early hours of the morning. 

Tonight, the only thing on the spider demon’s mind was to curl up with Fat Nuggets and sleep those troubling emotions away.

He had been drinking far less lately, or, at least, had been keeping his habits away from the hotel ever since the new hotel was built and your daughter was born. No more did the pornstar burst in after a night at the studio, eyes red and speech slurred as he spoke gibberish and laughed at nothing in particular. 

Even though it was Hell, you were determined to keep the gateways into a chaotic life away from your daughter. She was going to have the best quality of life possible in such a place, and you were vocal about your disapproval of those habits, especially in a place that’s supposed to be free of such sin.

When Cherri began staying longer and longer at the hotel, you were apprehensive at first with how much deeper she seemed to be in ‘the life’. Would she sink further into the depths after Sir. Pentious’ death? It wasn’t easy for someone to deal with both grief and guilt at the same time. 

Fortunately, she had the support of the residents inside the hotel, and she was finding healthier outlets than a thin line of white powder to quell her pain. 

You were grieving too, even if you hadn’t known Sir. Pentious that long in comparison to the others, the little time you spent with him was all but enough. 

Sir. Pentious was kind, and courteous, and made the best cookies you’d ever tasted. You had a connection with the snake demon with your shared enjoyment in cooking, and you welcomed the assistance of his Egg Boiz taste-testing your delicacies. 

Now, he was gone, and the emptiness of his departure was palpable inside the hotel. His loyal egg companions now dwindled to just one singular yolk, the rest having sacrificed their shells along with their selfless general. 

Frank, who had survived solely because he had guarded you at the hospital, returned home to an empty nest and no boss.

You weren’t sure whether the little guy could understand how double death worked, but the way he stared longingly at Sir. Pentious’ portrait in the lobby that he knew his old family was gone for good.

Charlie had done her best to integrate him into the staff, him a room service attendant. He stayed your faithful helper in that way, summoned to your door by the newly installed service button whenever you needed.

“Sorry for bothering you, Frank,” you had smiled down at him, poking your head out from the inside of your room, your daughter latched onto your nipple, “But I’m out of toilet paper and I'm kind of busy right now. Could you go grab me some, please?” 

“Sure thing!” He replied chipperly, lifting his hat courteously from the top of his shell before he scampered down the hall and out of view. 

He’d return with your items of request, as he did for all the rest of the residents. It kept him busy, allowing his one-track mind to stay away from thinking hard thoughts about what was lost for too long.

Those hard thoughts plagued you as well, as you dealt with the grief of losing a friend and the mood swings that began to take over you. The hormonal changes that came post-birth was also something you prepared for, the ‘baby blues’ as most would call it.

It had started as mood swings, the typical sudden bursts of emotions that accompanied your pregnancy, and the ones that liked to show their face around your period. Suddenly, you’d find yourself shooting a glare at a particularly noisy conversation outside of your door, or find your eyes welling up with tears at the slightest inconvenience.

A mix of sleep deprivation and postpartum hormones was not a good one, and you were determined to keep this weakness away from your friends. 

What if they thought you weren’t doing a good job as a mother? All that time, energy, and resources that were used to help you and your baby. They’d think it was all a waste, caring so much only for you to end up a disappointment. 

Was that… how your ex had felt when he chose a whore over his lover and child?

Those thoughts began to plague you, and your anxiety heightened with every passing day. The idea that their judgments on your parenting would be harsh had you withdrawing for longer periods inside your room, and farther away from your friends.

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to keep your feelings completely hidden from them, and you realized quickly how erratic your emotions actually were.

One day, Vaggie had swung by to inform you that they had ordered some pizza, and you were welcome to have some too. You were busy breastfeeding your baby at the time, and had to wait until she was sound asleep to sneak out of your room and into the kitchen. 

When you finally arrived, your stomach growled with giddy anticipation as you passed by the others who had mostly finished their plates, your lateness obvious. The lobby was filled with chatter, all the residents gathered for a nice meal and to catch up on anything new that had transpired during the week.

When you reached the partially open pizza box inside the empty kitchen, that delicious scent wafted to your nose and you licked your lips hungrily. Gripping the lid, you lifted it quickly, your mind already picturing whatever goodness lay inside. 

Was it the classic pepperoni that couldn’t go wrong? Maybe it was from that new pizzeria down the block with their best-selling macaroni and cheese… 

Your train of thought derailed, your gaze narrowing at the contents inside the box. 

A singular slice of pizza was all that remained inside, your most hated topping sprinkled atop the now-cooled cheese. 

Your lip curled at the sight, irritation flickering across your face at the lonely slice. You heard laughter from the conversation behind you, and that only had your eye twitching.

You had lived with these guys during the most intense months of your cravings, and they were aware of what kind of pizza you devoured in an instant and which ones had you gagging. And, only one slice? Had they forgotten about you, even though you had told Vaggie you’d come down after feeding the baby? 

You were itching to commit some sort of violence, which had you steeling your arms from lifting the box and chucking it against the wall. 

Those intrusive thoughts had you rubbing your temple with a frustrated sigh, before lifting a hand to begin plucking the disgusting toppings from the slice. 

As you placed the last of it onto the cardboard, you grabbed the pizza and threw it into the microwave nearby. Your foot tapped impatiently against the marble tile as the slice spun slowly inside the appliance, your thoughts spinning along with it.

By the time you had made it out of the kitchen with steaming food, your tolerance for social interaction was drained, and it seemed a better idea to just eat in your room. 

Passing by a few familiar faces, you only greeted them with a tight smile, walking fast enough so that they’d assume you were busy and it would be less likely for them to invite you to chat. 

Right as you were about to turn the corner into the hall, plate in hand, a figure rounded the corner and smacked into you head-on. Your chests collided, and you felt the plate slip from your grip, you snapped your head up to see the familiar apple-cheeked woman meet your gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Charlie gasped, right as the pizza slid off your plate and began to free-fall down to the carpet.

Your eyes widened, and Charlie tensed as the pizza splat face-down, the tomato sauce beginning to ooze from the sides like a bloody scene and your hand began to tremble.

At first, those intrusive thoughts were prodding you to snap at her, but you held your tongue. That anger quickly morphed into gloom, and your eyes cast down longingly to the overturned slice.

Your lip quivered, and your chest heaved as you took a shaky breath to keep those tears from falling. Charlie’s brows furrowed and she slowly matched your expression as guilt squeezed her stomach. The banter around you quieted, but your gaze was firmly on the woman in front of you. 

Fuck, that was the one thing you were looking forward to today. You couldn’t lose your composure in front of the princess, however, that would heighten her concern, and she already had enough on her plate with the new clients.

“Here, let me get Niffty to clean this up and I can get you some more piz—”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” You interrupted her, a quiet growl laced in your wavering words as you chuckled humorously, “There isn’t anything left, this was all you guys cared enough to save for me.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened at your tone, before she opened her mouth to speak again just as Niffty walked forward to clean the mess. Looking down, you took notice of the large glob of sauce that had landed on your top, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

“If you excuse me, I have to get changed now,” you huffed, spinning on your heels to face the hallway, not giving the princess any time to press further as you briskly walked away.

That hot, salty liquid began to spill down your cheeks right as you entered into the long corridor, and you desperately tried to wipe them away. Your face was rubbed dry in a desperate bid to silence the tears.

What was wrong with you? It was one slice of pizza, yet your heart ached like your lottery ticket was one number away from winning. Charlie’s expression had proved your mask was beginning to crack, with the mix of concern and surprise toward your change in demeanor. 

Motherhood isn't easy, that had been clear since day one, but you had hoped your emotions would have stabilized by now. It seems that sleep exhaustion and maternal hormones just don’t mix very well, huh?

That incident had been so embarrassing, that you kept to yourself the rest of the week, only venturing out when necessary, which had you spending most of your time with your daughter. 

Your baby couldn’t speak yet, and wouldn’t for quite a while, which meant you had to speak for her. Usually, you attached words to the silly little faces she would make at any action you or another demon did around her. 

The one time you switched her bottle from breast milk to formula, she didn’t seem too happy about it with how big of a stink eye she sent you chugging down her dinner. Peaches was only a month and a half, but her expressiveness was that of a moody, hormonal teenager.

You spent many hours cooped up with her, sometimes, you needed to have a little fun and play puppeteer one evening as the two of you lounged on your bed.

You squished your daughter's cheeks, making tiny little duck lips as you pitched your voice higher, “Yes, Mama, I promise to sleep through the whoooole night this time!”

“Wonderful,” you beamed, using your other hand to pat her approvingly on the stomach, “And you’ll drink your whole bottle without fuss?”

“Yes, Mama! And, I wi—”

“What are you doing?” An amused, honeyed voice came from across your room.

You froze, turning towards the open doorway, your fingers still pinched around the baby's lips as your eyes widened at the familiar face.

There, standing leisurely against his cane, was the casually dressed ‘Big Boss of Hell’. Lucifer’s blonde hair was slicked back, a few curls framing his statuesque features. Those warm, golden eyes and skin that practically shimmered against the waning daylight from your window.  

He tilted his head with a soft, playful smile, as he drank in your figure. The red evening light basked the bed with a warm glow that lit your eyes up like diamonds, enhancing your maternal elegance as you bonded with your daughter. 

Your love for her was obvious, and that always had Lucifer’s heart fluttering, seeing something so pure exist in such a grim world.

Slowly, you slid off the bed, your smile widening every step closer you took towards the king as you crossed the room. Somehow, even in your melancholic state, his presence always seemed to have you energized and bouncy.

“Your Majesty,” you batted your lashes, coming to a stop at the doorway before leaning casually against it. 

“M’lady,” his grin widened into a wide, teeth-glinting smile as he lifted his hand to present a caramel-coated apple nestled snugly atop a thin, wooden stick. Your stomach growled on cue, and the scent that wafted to your nose had your mouth watering.

“Looks like that glow hasn’t left you yet, if I do say,” he replied, his eyes flicking across your figure before meeting your gaze again.

You only shook your head with a breath of laughter, reaching forward and plucking the delicacy from his grip and turning it in your fingers.

“Charlie says she hasn’t seen you for a few days, you really should go and get some fresh air once in a while,” Lucifer continued as you widened the doorway for him to enter, shooting you a stern glance as spoke. 

Is he talking right now? You quirked a brow as he slid past, lifting the offering to your lips and taking a large, hungry bite out of the treat. 

Lucifer’s eyes were on one being in particular, swaddled snuggly across the room on your bed. His gaze lingered on your daughter for a few moments, before he turned to face you again. 

“How is everything going?”

“Good,” you lied. 

“That’s great to hear,” his warm smile widened, and his eyes flicked back over to your daughter, before snapping back to you. 

Lucifer’s cane twisted between his fingers nervously as he opened his mouth to speak, before disregarding his thoughts and clamping his mouth shut with a small huff.

You only titled your head at that, your lips curving into a more genuine smile as you watched him. 

Children were such a soft spot for Lucifer, you could tell the way his demeanor changed instantly when he was in the presence of a baby. His voice turned to velvet whenever his gentle tone gained from experience in soothing their little ears.

You couldn’t imagine how beautiful lullabies sounded with those vocals of his, the very thought making you melt like butter. Although, you haven't gotten the chance to hear them yet. 

His parental instincts seemed to have resurfaced with the birth of your daughter, and that natural affinity for caring for the innocent and helpless buried along with his angelic began to emerge with each passing visit.

He kept his love at a distance, at first. Almost as if he was afraid of getting attached to such a tiny being, like the emotions that came along with it were a deadly force that could take him out far quicker than angelic steel.

Was it because the baby wasn’t his? Did he think you didn’t want him around your child? Maybe, one day he assumed you’d take the baby and leave, and those growing would only break his heart along with your departure. 

You just needed to prove him wrong. 

“Come on,” you finally nudged him with a laugh, setting the apple on a table nearby, before beckoning him to follow you towards the bed. 

It seemed as if Lucifer had been waiting for your approval, as his demeanor lightened at your words and he slowly followed you. His steps were light and quiet as you neared the side of the bed, stopping just as he settled beside you. 

“Peaches! You’re looking quite radiant this evening,” Lucifer greeted with a flourish, as he leaned over the side of your bed, and your daughter’s eyes widened at the familiar face.

Your eyes flicked up to the fallen angel at his words. Peaches, the nickname he had come up with. Shockingly, a name that didn’t derive from apples, ducks, or the circus.

“Well, aren't you just a peach, so quiet and easy for your mama!'' Lucifer had cooed to the little one her first days in Hell, she lay in your arms as he softly brushed a thumb across her chin, “So adwowable wit those chubby wittle cheeks.” 

Your baby had only frowned at the strange man’s touch with a half-lidded gaze, but soon she’d learn to get used to Lucifer’s presence, as he never disappeared for too long without visiting his three favorite girls. 

You had a real name for your daughter that was chosen after her birth, but that could be reserved for when you’d have to pull out the full name card during arguments in her teenage years. Peaches had been a simple phrase that seemed to stick, and even if you weren’t fond of the cute addressal, you wouldn’t dare ruin his first attachment to your daughter.

Peaches had only stared up at the porcelain figure invading her space with a curious gaze, no doubt wondering who this silly was, and why he always left her gifts to fawn over. 

Like the first day you came home from the hospital, he presented you with a beautiful red, silken bassinet, with intricate gold lines woven into the detailed design, enhancing the elegance of the crib. Its plushness looked very comfortable for your daughter, and you adored that Lucifer got you something in the first place.

Another time, he brought you a golden mobile that depicted ducks flying rhythmically in circles, ones that threw vibrant, warm lights across the walls late at night, soothing the girl’s late wakings before they woke you at times. 

That seemed to be Lucifer’s love language towards your daughter, always presenting her with toys and other little gizmos he cooked up inside of his workshop. Finally, the fallen angel had found purpose for the dusty space, instead of constantly tweaking the same old, yellow rubber ducky day after day.

“For you, a fan-favorite from the vault,” Lucifer hummed as he snapped his fingers, and a stuffed goat with devilish horns and bat wings materialized in his hands.

Right as he pulled the plush from behind his back, Peaches became enamored with it, kicking her legs in excitement as the stuffed animal was held high for her to get a full view. Her motor control was still poor, and she couldn’t grasp the amusing creature, but its colorful fur and dragon-like features were something to gawk at in the little one’s eyes.

“Look, she’s smiling!” You beamed beside the fallen angel, heart melting as you watched the little girl’s mouth open with a squeal at the offering, “I think that’s her biggest one yet!”

“It seems I’m just a natural at this kind of thing, huh?” Lucifer winked playfully your way, before he levitated the toy just above your daughter’s head, whose attention was solely on the little goat plush, “I think she’s even starting to like me, too.”

‘You’re such a good daddy, please let me make you one again.’

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” you replied instead with a simple nod, before turning on your heels to hide your goofy smile and retrieve the caramel apple once more.

You plucked the apple from the table, before biting another large chunk from its side. The flavors swirled in your mouth, and that fog in your mind lessened a little more with each bite.

You watched from a short distance, as Lucifer’s index finger pointed towards the air above your daughter’s head. With a flick of his wrist, a trail of golden sparks shot from his fingertip and upward above their heads, before exploding into a flurry of sparkles that sent golden shadows across the room.

Peaches was digging the light show, her eyes fixated on the floating spectacle before they flickered out of existence. 

“Anything else going on?” The king finally spoke, turning his head slightly to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Not really, just taking it one day at a time,” you responded absentmindedly, lifting the coated apple to your lips to take another bite. 

“Are you free tomorrow?” He blurted, smile cracking wider as straightened himself against his cane. 

You froze, brain short-circuiting as those words processed in your head. You, free? As in, available to partake in some sort of activity with Lucifer?

“Yes, technically…” you trailed off, gaze flicking to your daughter, giddy on her bed as she watched the stuffed goat, “But I can’t just leave the baby alone all evening, she needs me.”

“She doesn’t need you, she’s fine with someone else for a few hours,” he waved off your excuse, before throwing another trail of sparklings into the air, and they exploded in a flurry of golden glimmers above the baby’s head, “I’m sure Charlie would love to spoil the kid for a few hours anyway, don’t you trust her?” 

“Yes…” 

“I was thinking,” Lucifer continued, beginning to take a few slow, deliberate steps towards you, “Nothing too crazy, just a nice, quiet evening with good food. Maybe throw some of my good wine into the mix, what do you say?”

He sent you a sultry, half-lidded gaze as he sidled closer to you, the caramel apple in your grip lowering from your lips as Lucifer enraptured your full attention, heat blooming across your cheeks at his expression. 

“If that is what His Majesty wishes, then I cannot refuse such an offer,” you struggled to keep your voice from wavering, the heat in your cheeks creeping farther down your body.

“But do you want it?” He pressed, only a foot away from you now, his lips upturned in a smirk at your flustered expression. 

Apparently, those horny hormones had also stuck around after your pregnancy. Having such a gorgeous, ethereal figure so close to you made your heart skip a beat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. 

“I… think that is a very lovely offer, and I would enjoy being able to spend time in just your company,” you finally replied carefully, a smile blooming across your lips.

“Perfect!” Lucifer clapped his hands together, his eyes glinting with glee as he took a step away from you, back toward the bed.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” The king cooed softly to your daughter, as he plucked the stuffed goat from the air, “Take good care of this little guy, he’s a special one.”

Lowering the plush, Lucifer placed it gently against your baby’s chest, and her chubby little hands came up to wrap firmly around the toy. Ungracefully, the goat was lifted to Peaches’ lips before she opened her mouth to begin suckling on its ear.

“I bet that tastes delicious,” Lucifer laughed, and you smiled fondly at the duo with a tilt of your head.

The fallen angel took a step back from the bed after a moment, before he lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. That familiar white, brim hat materialized from thin air into his grasp, and he turned to you with a smile.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm a very busy man and have other matters to attend to,” Lucifer sighed dramatically, brushing past you towards the doorway. 

“I have no doubt,” you shook your head with a laugh, following him towards the end of your room.

Lucifer reached the open doorway, before turning to face you again. He met your gaze for a few moments, before he leaned forward in a bow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening, m’lady,” he hummed with delight, adjusting his hat against those beautiful golden curls as you smiled warmly.

“Is there a dress code for our little outing?” you responded with a mischievous grin.

The king only sent you a playful wink, before he stepped out of view and the soft thuds of heeled boots against carpet faded as he disappeared down the hall.

That interaction with Lucifer stewed in your mind for the entire night, as well as into the early morning. Your thoughts drifted to the previous conversation as you snuck down the hall and into the lobby to grab breakfast from the kitchen.

The others were fairly busy, so you were easily able to travel unseen. Angel Dust was working overtime at the studio for a new porn flick, and Charlie was using the extermination to push her hotel further into the spotlight and attract new clients. Vaggie always went along with her, and Alastor was probably up in his fancy new radio tower, doing whatever it was he did up there. 

It was only Husk who remained, always behind the bar, shining the bottles and whistling a strange blues tune. He had begun to rope in his drinking as well, choosing to pick up a bottle much later in the day than usual. It was the early morning hour, when you passed by the bar with breakfast in your hands, and the sober bartender turned to you.

“How’s the kid doing?”

“She’s fine, growing very fast too, gaining more control over her movement every day.”

“That's nice,” Husk’s lips curved a smidge, as he placed the glassware neatly underneath the counter, “Haven’t seen you in a while, glad to know ya ain’t dead or nothin’.”

“Yes…” You said slowly, mind racing for a good excuse, “She has just been fussy lately, so I’ve been tending to her.”

“You should bring her out one of these days,” He lifted his eyes from the glass in his paws, meeting yours with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the others would be happy to see her.”

You couldn’t tell whether Husk was using the term ‘others’ as an inclusion of him as well, you knew the furry demon had a heart somewhere beneath those layers of fur and grumpiness.

You nodded your head at his words, taking a bite of your breakfast, thoughts drifting as you chewed. You’d have to ask Charlie about babysitting anyway, and you couldn’t avoid her forever.

Maybe, knowing that you were going out with her dad, she’d be thrilled to shoulder the responsibilities of a newborn for a single night, or, she could hate it… which was something you desperately tried not to think too hard about, for your sanity.

Needless to say, Husk was right, your daughter really brought the best out of your friends, as they melted in her vicinity. None of the residents at the hotel had any problem looking after the adorable little demon.

Charlie had stood quietly in the lobby, humming a tune as she rocked the baby softly in her arms. Vaggie stood beside her, tilting her head as Peaches’ eyelids began to droop at the gentle motions.

“They’re as cute as the ones in Heaven, maybe cuter,” The fallen angel spoke with a smile, her hand lifting towards the little girl’s head, before tiny fingers wrapped around a single digit and clamped tight.

“And strong too, wow,” She laughed, trying to gently dislodge her finger from the steel grip.

In the hallway behind them, you turned the corner into the lobby, anxiously fiddling with your appearance as you neared the trio. Dressed in a wine-red outfit, you stumbled slightly in your heels as you navigated over the plush carpet. 

Finally, you were actually able to fit into fashionable attire. Your stomach was no longer inflated with an eight-pound baby, and the aching of your once swollen feet no longer bothered you to continue venturing the world in socks and flip-flops.

“You look really nice in that outfit!” Charlie beamed as she turned at the sounds of footsteps, and Vaggie nodded beside her. Your daughter’s eyes widened at the exclamation, before moving to your figure, tracking your figure as you joined them near the bar. 

Angel Dust was lounging on a bar stool, swishing alcohol absentmindedly inside a martini glass as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up at the sound of Charlie’s voice, before catching a glimpse of your outfit with a knowing smirk.

“Someone is dressin’ to impress,” he playfully nudged Husk’s shoulder over the bar counter, who turned his head from the bottles he was organizing to sneak a peek. 

Everyone knew who you were trying to impress, and when you came back, they would no doubt prod you for any juicy details. 

You stopped in front of Charlie, smiling as you adjusted your outfit again. You had spent the past few hours getting ready, which also included multiple outfit changes because you were never satisfied with your appearance. You needed to look good, really good if you were going on a date with the king.

Why would Lucifer want anything to do with you? You had nothing to offer, just tired eyes and a baby on your hip. There had to be better options, surely. Just because the man never went anywhere other than his manor and the hotel, didn’t mean there wasn’t a line of demons wanting to fill the place of Charlie’s mother.

Lilith. You tried desperately not to think of her, for your own self-esteem. You had seen pictures of her, in old magazines and glimpses of family portraits in Charlie’s room. Lucifer spoke of her when talking about his daughter’s childhood or humorous memories, but he seemed to keep the reminiscing of her specifically curt around you. 

You struggled to understand why, did he think you’d react poorly to the mention of his ex-wife? Except, It wasn’t your place to act that way, though. She had been married to the king for thousands of years and was the mother of his child. She was the Queen of Hell for crying out loud! Not to mention, drop-dead gorgeous, had a fantastic voice, and cared deeply for her people’s wellbeing. 

In comparison, you were a sad sack of potatoes. At least, in your opinion. 

Self-conscious thoughts like these had slowly begun to fester during your early pregnancy, and peaked when your stomach resembled a watermelon, and, for some reason, it had decided to make a nest in your brain postpartum. Laying more seeds of anxiety and dejection deeper within your mind.

But, when Lucifer was around, it was like you could finally breathe again. His energy was warm and inviting, like taking a sip of the finest liquor and that buzz in your brain thirsting for more. It felt like snuggling your face into soft sheep's wool, nothing but comfort and relief from the harshness of the realm. 

Even if the fallen angel was no longer welcomed inside Heaven’s gates, he still retained that ethereal grace that made you feel like you were committing the largest sin just by staring too hard at those soft lips of his.

The king cared about you, in a way nobody did. He was the only demon in your group who had any experience with raising a child, and he was your support when it came to understanding the same stages of parenthood you were currently going through. In a much lesser light, of course, he had never actually birthed a child and suffered the effects of such a–literal–mind altering experience.

Tonight, you’d be able to have Lucifer all to yourself, and you were determined to make the most of it. 

You had held back from making any advances towards him for so long due to that golden band on his finger that glinted painfully in your eyes. A reminder of his attachment to his ex-wife, and the fragility of your close bond. 

What if Lilith were to come back? Would he choose her, and distance himself from you? What of you then, being dragged by the heartstrings for so long just to have them snapped in your face at his rejection?

That thought had terrified you, so you kept your feelings hidden, and let Lucifer set the pace on how far things would go. You were determined to start changing that, starting tonight.

As you came to a halt in front of Charlie and Vaggie, your daughter cooed softly, and you reached out a hand to run gentle fingers across her cheek lovingly.

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything taken care of. Bottles in the fridge you just need to warm up, first aid kit in my room, and I’ll have my phone on ring in case there’s an emergency,” you nervously triple-recounted everything in your mind.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Charlie sent you a confident nod of her head, her fingers tightening around your baby as her smile grew.

It is then you come to realize how good of a big sister the princess could make if she were to have a younger sibling. Your heart swelled at that, as you imagined your daughter at least finding companionship in the young woman. Charlie looked like she could really pull off a stellar children’s tea party.

“I know you do, you’re always so responsible,” you replied warmly, and the princess's eyes widened for a moment, before her lips upturned into a grateful smile as you lowered your hand from your daughter’s face.

“So, where are you going?” Vaggie inquired.

“I don’t know, he just told me to wait outside my balcony door. Which means I should probably head there now, if everything is fine out here.”

“We’re good, toots!” Angel Dust called from behind Charlie, throwing his head back before downing the rest of the liquor in his glass, “Go have some fun!” 

You nodded, before wishing farewell to your daughter and the rest of the demons in the lobby before turning on your heel and heading back towards your room. 

“I hope those two have fun,” Vaggie said as you disappeared around the corner. 

“I have to use the bathroom, will you take Peaches for me?” Charlie turned towards her girlfriend, only for Angel Dust to shoot up from his seat with a large grin. 

“I would like to hold the baby!” He strolled up to the duo, and Charlie glanced over to Vaggie, before shrugging and carefully holding the little girl towards the demon. 

“C’mere, cutie!” Angel Dust beamed, arms outstretched to take the child as she kicked her feet in little baby glee. 

“You love your uncle, Angel, dontcha’?” He cooed, lifting the baby with secure hands underneath her armpits, before he leaned in and rubbed noses.

Peaches sneezed, and Angel Dust positioned her to sit in his lap at the bar counter. Husk leaned across to get a better look, before taking a claw and reaching it towards the baby.

Gently, he squished her chubby arm, trailing down towards her hand. Husk didn’t have time to retract his claw, before a tiny hand wrapped around the cat’s finger and refused to let go.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” He grumbled as he allowed your daughter to stay latched onto his digit.

You had just made it inside your room, adjusting your appearance one final time as you reached the balcony doors. Grasping the handle, you pull it open to slip outside, the lights from the city illuminating the balcony’s white tiled floor.

You turned your head to search for the fallen angel, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were left to twiddle your thumbs, eyes casting towards the demons strolling the streets down the hill in the neighborhood below.

Lucifer didn’t forget about the date… did he? He was getting much better at being on time, but you still could not help to worry. 

“Hey.”

You jumped with a gasp, spinning to face the familiar voice. You had to grip the chair beside you to keep from stumbling in heels, your gaze lifting to meet those familiar, yellow eyes.

Lucifer was perched across from you on the balcony’s thin railing, one pair of his large wings stretched wide, throwing shadows across the tiles beneath your feet. The other two he kept folded at his sides, white against the crimson underbelly of his open wings.

They practically shimmered in the waning light, their shape and color unique to only one kind of being, an angel. Husk’s wings could not compare to the exotic beauty before you, and you struggled to keep eye contact with its owner as you examined the rare sight.

“Lucifer!” You scolded playfully, your eyes tracing across every feather that rustled slightly against the gentle breeze, “You scared me! What are you doing up there?”

“I apologize for the fright,” Lucifer chuckled, rising to his full height as he balanced across like a tightrope, closing the distance between the two of you, “I just thought I’d give you a peek of what tonight has to offer.”

His wings beat softly for balance, before they folded in slightly and the fallen angel lowered himself back to sit on his feet, smiling mischievously as he lowered a hand in a gesture for you to take.

“First, you should take off those heels. They look really nice, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to climb up here with them on.”

You furrowed your brows, suspicion in your gaze as he extended a hand for you to take. What was your darling king planning? 

“Why exactly am I climbing onto the railing?” You kicked off your heels, and you shivered at the cold flooring against your skin.

Your bare feet planted on the cool tiles for a few moments, before your fingers laced with Lucifer’s, and he effortlessly lifted you to stand beside him.

“Well,” He started, his fingers brushing up your wrist to grip your forearm, before steadying you with a flap of his wings, “I just thought you wanted a better mode of transportation to our little dinner than walking in those stilettos.”

“And what ‘mode’ are we talking about here?” You turned to him with widening eyes, realization slowly dawning on you.

Lucifer’s grin only widened, and you gulped. He really was serious about taking an evening flight, and you mentally prepared yourself as your gaze lowered to the long drop beneath you. You steeled your gaze towards the fallen angel, who scooted even closer.

“Are you ready?” His honeyed voice whispered in your ear, and you felt like exploding at the feeling of his touch across your waist.

Were you? Never did you guess this was what he had planned, and never did you imagine finding yourself being able to travel with your feet off the ground. Adrenaline began to pump through your veins the longer you stood there in thought.

With one final deep breath, you moved your hands to grip tightly against Lucifer’s dress shirt, and nodded your approval. Lucifer’s hold on your waist tightened, and you screwed your eyes shut just as you felt him pull you forward and off the side of the railing.

The wind whipped past your ears, your eyelids still locked shut as you clamped your mouth shut to keep from screaming. The two of you were falling fast, and for a moment you imagined Lucifer unable to lift in time, and you’d become a splatter against the grass.

Instead, you heard his other two pairs of wings unfurl and spread above you, the thrumming of heavy flaps and the feeling of being lifted once more had you cracking an eye open. The wind whistled its natural tune, and your eyelids fluttered open to see your legs dangling beneath you. 

You were very high up, as Lucifer glided across the outskirts of the city, those vibrant, flashing strobe lights that lit up the sky above V Tower passed in a multicolored blur. 

You were flying! Free and uncaged from the stress back on the ground, that weightless feeling was something you’ve never experienced all your years in Hell. The adrenaline rush that hit your body had you laughing in the thrill as the fallen angel dipped and rolled. Cars passed below you, and you waved to the pedestrians walking on the streets underneath your feet, if they even noticed your presence.

“Having fun?” Lucifer called from above, and you cocked your head up to meet his playful gaze.

“More than I ever imagined!” You replied, the wind carrying your voice to the king’s ears.

“Good, now hang on!” He laughed, and his wings tightened against his body, causing the two of you to dive with greater speed towards the buildings below. 

Your grip on Lucifer’s shirt tightened and he pulled you closer as he sped towards an illuminated rooftop below. 

Rather carefully, your feet hit the cold bricks beneath, and Lucifer released his hold around your waist to land beside you. His wings folded against his back, and with a split-second flash of golden light, they completely vanished from his frame. 

Lucifer began to walk toward the center of the rooftop, beckoning for you to join. Taking a few steps forward, your eyes follow his path, before widening at the scene. 

Powerful magic had transformed the space into a romantic, candle-lit dinner right out of the movies. The string of bulbs that cast warm light across the small, cute table before you held an intimate glow, paired with the soft, classical tune that filled the air.

A single, elegantly shaped candle stands at the center, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across your face. The table was adorned with a lace-trimmed cloth fluttering gently in the breeze. On top, there's an assortment of delectable treats—cheeses, fruits, and a selection of fine chocolates.

The backdrop is breathtaking, with the city spread out below, its lights twinkling like stars in the distance. The distant hum of traffic and city life is a soothing contrast to the quiet rooftop ambiance. 

Lucifer only smiles at you, before he pulls a chair slightly from the table and gestures for you to sit. You oblige, settling into the comfortable padded seat as he pushes the chair back in place.

He settled into the seat across from you, and you leaned over the table slightly to take a look at the charcuterie board lined with various cheese, meats, and chips. Your stomach growled, and you plucked a few items from the board and placed them on the white plate sitting before you. 

“Is everything to your liking?” Lucifer hummed, as he popped a slice of prosciutto into his mouth, before meeting your gaze.

“This is really nice,” you smiled, lifting your eyes to trace the string of lights that zig-zagged across your head, “I had expected you to just take me to a fancy restaurant, not something like this.”

“I like the atmosphere of places like these much better. Less noisy and more.. personal,” he replied, lifting another meat slice to his lips  “I just thought you needed time away from that suffocating little room, the both of us, really.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, this was very kind of you.”

Lucifer smiled softly, and heat spread across your face at his staring. You took another bite of cheese, and the king’s eyes flicked across the table and his brows furrowed.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something…” he started, rubbing his chin deep in thought, before his eyes widened as he perked, “That’s right, the wine! Waiter!”

The king snapped his fingers, and you turned your head in confusion. The rooftop was empty, save for the two of you, who could possibl–

Your thoughts were interrupted when footsteps echoed across the gravel, and a figure dressed in a black and white tuxedo strolled forward toward you. It was… another Lucifer, and your mouth dropped slightly at the familiar face, whose curly mustache bounced as he grinned.

A red bottle of wine materialized in the double’s hands, and with a loud pop the cork lid flew across the rooftop. Fizz spilled from the bottle for a few moments as the waiter stopped beside you. Lowering the bottom, he poured the empty glass in front of you to the brim, before standing straight once more.

“For you, ma chérie,” Lucifer #2 spoke with a perfect French accent, before bowing respectfully to you. 

He sent you a playful wink as he slid over to your Lucifer’s side, and lowered the wine bottle. Lucifer watched his glass fill, before shooing away his double, who backed away from the table and vanished into the shadows.

You lift the wine glass to your lips, taking a long sip of the dark red liquor. Its rich, apple flavor danced on your tongue as warmth bloomed from your stomach. 

“This is amazing! When you were talking about good wine, I didn’t think you meant this good,” you beamed, that buzz already tingling in your brain as you took another sip.

“An old recipe that’s been sitting in my cellar for, well… a few thousand years by now,” Lucifer swirled the wine in his glass, before lifting it to his lips.

As you nibble on the delicate offerings, conversation flows effortlessly between you both. The topics range from silly memories and active interests, punctuated by laughter and shared glances. Lucifer's eyes hold a warmth and depth that matches the glow of the candle, his demeanor a mix of confidence and vulnerability, as he shares with you details of his past.

Time seems to stand still as you savor each other's company, the burdens upon your shoulders vanishing for the moment, as you keep your gaze fixed on the gorgeous face across from you. The night feels infinite, filled with promise and the simple joy of being together.

Unfortunately, time passed much quicker than you hoped, as the sky above was blanketed in darkness at the late hour. Even with the giddy buzz from the wine, exhaustion was still creeping up your spine, and your eyelids were growing heavy.

Lucifer and you both stood at the same time, and when the king joined you at one end of the table, he lifted a hand toward you. It was a gesture for you to take, and when your eyes lowered, you found that the golden band usually around his finger was nowhere in sight.

Your eyes widened, and something stirred inside you. You didn’t waste any time in reaching forward and lacing your fingers with his, his touch soft and warmth bloomed from his fingertips. 

What now? Should you just lean over and kiss him? No, not on the first date, that’s silly! It must have been the buzz of the wine making all those intrusive thoughts seem very logical as you locked eyes with the king for a few moments.

But… was it really the first date? Sure, you had never spent time together so.. intimately before, but he was there for you a lot during your pregnancy. Helped you cook, filled your day with entertainment, and cared for your health, all he did by choice. 

Which is why you felt so weird asking for his help now, he had already done so much, any more and you’d feel utterly… useless.

It seemed like Lucifer wanted to say something, his brows furrowed slightly, lips moving as if he was just moments from speaking. He held his tongue though, sighing softly in the breeze as he turned his head towards the vibrant cityscape.

You followed his gaze, glimpsing the large, digital billboards a few streets away depicting lude models and VoxTek advertisements. 

“Are you sure you’re doing okay, with the baby and everything? You know you can always ask me for help, right?” Lucifer's words caught you off guard, and your head turned to meet his gaze.

Was he catching onto how much you were really struggling? You bit your lip, mind racing. You had tried so hard to seem normal, but the truth was, you felt like a different person after your baby. These emotions that refuse to leave you in peace were only creating a deeper divide between you and everyone else.

Your daughter was beautiful, and you loved her so much. But, she was still a mentally draining, constantly hungry being that begged for your attention 24/7 in the form of harsh, deafening wails. It seemed to be improving, hopefully.

“I think so,” you answered honestly, using your free hand to rub your shoulder soothingly, “It was tough for a while, but I think whatever has been bothering her is going away. Everything should be much smoother from here on out.”

Lucifer looked at you for another moment, as if he was finding it hard to believe you. He didn’t press further, instead giving your hand a supportive squeeze before tugging 

“Ready for round two?” He smiled, his wings unfurling from behind his back as stepped onto the edge of the roof beside him.

You only laughed as he pulled you close to him and the two of you fell off the side of the building. Lucifer’s wings stretched wide as they lifted the two of you towards the sky, your worries in the wind once more.

You should have knocked on wood when you told Lucifer your daughter’s crying fits were improving, because only a few days later, it was quite the opposite. Peaches has been overcome with another intense round of colic, and her screams bounced across the bedroom as you rocked her gently in your arms.

You had spent the past hour trying to soothe her cries, to no avail. Tears pricked at your eyes as you lifted a binkie towards her mouth, it took a few moments for the little girl to even notice her outburst, before she clamped her mouth around it and began to suckle. 

Her crying turned to whimpers, which soon faded into sniffles as she suckled on the pacifier. You exhaled a sigh of relief, as you slowly lowered her into the red bassinet beside you. Carefully, you positioned her comfortably on the plush bedding, placing a small blanket snugly around her toes to keep her from waking from the cold, before you straightened again. 

What could she possibly be feeling that you were unable to help her through? You weren’t telepathic, and the mystery was only driving you mad. 

You needed fresh air, and your daughter’s wails were finally silenced long enough to be able to disappear for a few minutes and recollect yourself. With caution, you took quiet steps across the room towards the balcony doorways that were concealed behind dark red curtains. Slowly, you reached through the thick fabric to grasp at the handle, before pulling it open just a crack to slip through.

The door closed softly behind you with a barely audible click, and that large breath held in your lungs finally expelled with a heavy sigh, heavy with emotions you so desperately wanted to release from your mind in any way possible. If it meant collapsing to the ground and flooding the balcony with the outpour of unsung frustrations.

You felt so useless. Your daughter was in some kind of misery, and the effects of the constant jump to tears were starting to take a noticeable effect on the infant. She just seemed so tired, practically pleading for you to end whatever misery she could possibly be facing.

You were at your wit's end, and you stared out into the distance, your breath quickening as tears threatened to fall. You just needed some time alone, time to think, and maybe, just maybe, it was time to ask for hel–

“Boo!” A sudden voice near your ear pulled you back into reality, and your heart slammed into your chest.

This time you screamed, your back hitting the railing as you quickly pivoted to find Lucifer, perched atop the railing once more. His wings were gone now, and his smile was wide as he landed on the tile next to you.

“Ha! I got you good, didn’t I?” Lucifer laughed, and you tensed at the volume.

“Shhh!” You hissed, placing a finger to your lips and Lucifer froze.

“Sorry…” He grimaced, glancing at the glass doorway before taking a step closer toward you,  "is she asleep?” 

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get her to settle down all day… she’s been really fussy and it’s been hard,” you sighed, turning your head slightly to hide the emotion building on your face.

“Oh, I had no idea. I just swung by to ask you something, but I see you're a little preoccupied at the moment,” Lucifer chuckled nervously, concern written across his features at your glistening eyes and quivering frown.

You were having trouble containing all the horrible things you were feeling, and your body began to react to the pressure that was threatening to burst inside of you. Inhaling a shaking breath, you crossed your arms and held them close to your chest, your heart beating rapidly. 

“Hey... are you okay?” You felt a hand softly grasp your forearm, and that warm touch was what had you coming undone before the king.

Tears poured down your cheeks, your body shaking with sobs as you slammed a hand over your mouth to hold back the anguished, raw sounds that were begging to be set free. 

You felt utterly exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be in a really long time. The weight of your emotions crashed over you like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf you in its depth. 

You felt a hand soothingly rub circles into your back, another one on your forearm as the king tried his best to show his support through silent gestures. You choked back another sob, straightening in embarrassment and you regained control of your composure. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, face twisting as you tried to compose yourself, “I’m trying to be a good mother, but it must be obvious how terrible of one I am.”

“What? Don’t say that!” Lucifer shook his head quickly, lips curving into a nervous smile as he spoke, “You’re doing a great job, nobody thinks otherwise.”

“I’m sure,” you replied bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Times like these can be really hard, I understand how you fee–”

“You don’t, though!” You snapped, lifting a hand to harshly rub your face free of the river running down your cheeks.

“Okay, maybe that's true, but I'm just worried about you, you’ve been—!”

Crying erupted from behind the door, and Lucifer’s mouth clamped shut at the sudden interruption. You jumped at the noise, one hand quickly reaching backward to grasp at the doorknob.

“I’m sorry, she’s crying again and I need to go. If you want to help so badly, come back another time!” the words spilled from your lips in a single breath, and your body moved past the threshold of the doorway as you turned away from the fallen angel.

“Wait! Please let me-!” 

The door locked into place, ceasing the desperate words from the other side. You couldn’t bear to listen any longer, embarrassed by your childish outburst of emotions.

Resting your forehead against the wooden surface, you squeezed your eyes shut, collecting yourself. Your daughter screamed for you across the room, only intensifying the ringing in your ears and pushing the tears to spill faster down your cheeks.

You saw Lucifer’s shadow behind the curtains for a few moments longer, before his silhouette backed away and disappeared over the railing. You rubbed a hand across your face as your daughter screamed, growling at yourself before you stalked towards the crib.

It had only been a few days later, when you heard your daughter's whimpers begin from across the room in her red bassinet sometime in the very early morning hours. You groaned, so comfortable in your nest of pillows and weighted blankets to heed her noisy demands.

You were exhausted, and for once there had been hope that you’d catch a few more hours before having to awake. Peaches wasn’t crying, though, not like her usual wails. You were still in the clutches of sleep, and your consciousness was drifting in and out, and the sounds around you were dampened by the dreamy state.

Then, something else joined the soft whimpers, a faint voice that had you stirring awake with heavy eyelids and sliding the plush covers from your figure. A rich, melodious tone hit your ears, delicate and soothing in the night. 

It sounded… like a violin. It was hauntingly beautiful, a lone siren in the stillness as it lulled your daughter into a deep sleep.

You lifted yourself from the warmth of the sheets, the cold air kissing your bare skin as you slid to the edge of your bed, eyes squinted to see through the darkness towards the corner. In the maroon lighting that escaped through a slit between the curtains of the balcony doors, you could make out some shadowed figure hunched slightly above the crib, your view limited by the small dining table in between you and the stranger.

Quietly, you slid over to the edge of the bed, before planting your feet softly against the plush rug underneath. You took careful steps as you snuck around the table in the center of your room, the music growing louder as you neared the bassinet.

Slowly, you peeked from behind the dining chair, your gaze followed the dappled, red light from the curtains, as they lit the features of a familiar, pearlescent skin with a ruby-like glow.

Lucifer.

His movements were graceful, like a swan, as he slid the bow across the strings, which glowed a subtle golden light as the heavenly melody left the instrument and filled your body with awe. His gaze fixed on the tiny figure nestled inside the crib, his features concentrated as he continued to play.

You only watched, silent as the lullaby began to damper, and the bow’s movements slowed. Soon, the music ceased, and Lucifer lowered the bow to his lap as he took a seat on a sofa behind him wearing a satisfied expression. Your heart swelled with emotion at the realization of the love behind his actions, and you took another step forward.

“Lucifer?” 

The king jumped at your voice, his fingers tightening around the instrument in his hold as he slowly turned his head with a large, innocent grin.

“Heyyyyy,” Lucifer replied awkwardly, lowering the violin from his shoulder, and setting it down onto the cushion beside him. 

The fallen angel met your gaze once more with an apologetic smile, rubbing his neck uneasily. He was trying to quiet without waking you, which he did the opposite, and it was rather awkward with his intrusion to soothe your daughter. You quietly moved forward, closing the distance between the two of you he chuckled nervously.

“I’m sorry for not announcing my presence, you told me to come back another time, then I just heard her crying and–”

Lucifer’s words caught in his throat, pupils dilating as your fingers came up to slowly brush across his chin, before settling to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb softly grazed across those red cheeks of his, and the tension in the fallen angel’s limbs subsided at your caring touch.

You didn’t know what had come upon you, but the craving to be close to this pure-intentioned being, in a literal and figurative sense, outweighed any thoughts of keeping your feelings at bay anymore. 

“Why are you so good to me?” You whispered, lips beginning to quiver.

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he melted in your palm. Warmth spread across your fingers, easing the ache in your muscles and deep in your bones, as euphoria overcame you. 

“Because you’re one of the only good things left in my life,” he replied, his voice tight with emotion, as if he was choking back tears, “You, Charlie, and…”

Lucifer trailed off as his eyes lowered to your sleeping daughter, adoration in his gaze. It was pure love, the kind that lasted for an eternity. Your heart swelled at that, and lifting a hand to his other cheek, you cupped his face and smiled warmly.

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Kiss me? Well–ha–I don’t find anything wrong with tha–” Lucifer’s stammered reply was cut off once more as you pulled him forward into your embrace.

You pressed your lips to his, they were warm and soft, and you drank in the sweetness of Lucifer’s aroma, nibbling slightly at his bottom lip. You felt his hands slide to your waist, before grasping gently and pulling you flush against his chest. 

Lucifer leaned backward slowly, his back hitting the support of the sofa and you shifted to fully rest against him, your lips moving to delicately graze across his chin, and you felt his heart quicken at the touch.

Lucifer’s breath hitched slightly as your lips traced along his jawline, you lingered for a moment, feeling the warmth of his breath on your cheek. His hands, still at your waist, tightened ever so slightly. The softness of his lips beckoned, and you closed the remaining distance, meeting in a tender, lingering kiss. 

Your eyelids were heavy, and you slowly broke the kiss and let your head fall into the warmth of the fallen angel's chest, tightening your hold around him and snuggling closer.

“Thank you, for putting her to sleep,” you murmured into Lucifer’s shirt, before feeling claws slide up to your back, caressing the area softly as he hummed a reply.

The two of you embraced silently, lost in the intimacy as you listened to the gentle thrum of his heart, and he continued drawing circles in your back with pleasurable movements. You felt yourself drifting into slumber once more, and your breath slowed as you heeded your body’s exhausted demands.

“You should come stay at my manor,” Lucifer whispered above you, his chin resting gently against the top of your head. 

Your eyelids fluttered open at that, sleep in the back of your mind at his words as you lifted your head to meet his gaze with a raised, disbelieving brow.

“What?”

Lucifer’s lips tightened, and his eyes bounced across the room as he struggled to formulate a response.

“Well, I–I mean, it would be a lot better than staying here, right? I could hire you as my… private chef! That way, you would make your own money to support yourself. You could even have a whole wing of the manor if you wanted, also a big nursery, a private kitchen, and a master bedroom as big as this entire living space!”

Your mouth opened slightly, head spinning. Live in the same house as Lucifer? The royal manor to call home? Probably the most luxurious and non-hellish place to exist in all the seven rings? He sounded completely serious, and you never expected him to make such a bold offer. You’d also be able to support yourself independently by working as Lucifer’s ‘private chef’, save for the free room and board.

“And, of course, you get to permit who comes and goes in that area, so if you wanted to keep everyone, including me, out…you could do that, too.”

Lucifer’s tone sank slightly as those words left his lips, and your brows furrowed in thought. 

“We’ll you give me time to think about it?” You asked slowly.

“Of course!” Lucifer nodded with a satisfied smile, content you were even considering his sudden proposition, “Take all the time you need.”

The two of you fell back into comfortable silence, and stayed locked in an embrace for the rest of the morning, and the crimson light peeking through the curtains began to lighten with the coming dawn. Even as you drifted into sleep, Lucifer’s words lingered in your mind as you slipped from consciousness.

They continued to linger the following evening, as you spilled your heart out to Angel Dust at the bar, your face in your hands as you recalled verbatim. He sipped from his glass of alcohol, lips set in thought as he listened intently. 

Out of everyone in the hotel, you didn’t know why you went to Angel for advice, especially in dealing with romance, but you told him everything nonetheless. About going to live with Lucifer, all the help he’s been to you thus far, and the encounter with him earlier. You even gave him a brief glimpse into the… physical intimacy the two of you also had shared earlier.

“I think ya should do it,” Angel Dust said after a few moments of silence, downing the remaining liquor in his glass, before turning to you. You lifted your head from your hands, you met his gaze with surprise written across your features.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, placing one hand supportively on your shoulder as he continued, “Now I ain’t tryna be mean to ya, but… the hotel was a great place for you before the baby, but with our track record with keeping this place from being attacked by thugs and angels, it mayyy not be so good for the actual baby. Ya get me?”

You took a sip of the water in front of you, nodding slowly as the answer you had been searching for finally settled on your shoulders. You turned to face the spider demon, your lips curving into a small frown and he tilted his head at you.

“I’m really going to miss you guys,” you murmured, rubbing your hands together self-soothing.

“Oh, you’re gonna make me cry, toots! C’mere!,” Angel Dust wrapped all four arms around you, and you returned the embrace with a tight grip. 

And wow, his fuzz was soft. You finally understood the appeal as you held your friend close. Even though in retrospect you had only known the porn star for a short amount of time, the bond you shared was heartwarming and kind. One of the few relationships of Angel’s that didn’t devolve into debauchery and drugs. 

Two hours later, you stood in front of Charlie, hands once again rubbing together in an attempt to soothe the nerves that were making it difficult to hold eye contact with the princess as you filled her in on the decision regarding your future. You planned to move into the manor, and raise the baby in a place that most resembled a home, instead of growing up in a hotel room.

“You’re going to go live with my dad?” She asked slowly, her brows furrowed at your words.

You tensed. Was she apprehensive of the idea?

“Yes, but it’s nothing crazy like I’m getting with your dad or anything… haha.. yeah,” you trailed off, because you were feeling like that may turn out to be untrue sooner than later.

At least, you hoped they did. For now, it was just something along the lines of roommates, even with how silly that sounded in your head.

“Well…” She began, rubbing her chin in thought, and sweat beaded down your forehead as she continued, “I think… it's a wonderful idea! I really enjoyed growing up there, and I’m sure your daughter would too!”

Phew. You exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension leaving your body and your shoulders relaxed. 

With Charlie’s blessing, it was all you needed to give Lucifer the news. He practically jumped for joy as you gave him your answer, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I have to baby-proof the whole place beforehand!” he had proclaimed, racing around the makeshift room he had been staying in the past few days as he grabbed his cane. 

“She won’t even be able to crawl for a while longer,” you had laughed with a raised brow.

“I can’t afford anything less than perfect,” Lucifer shook his head, grabbing his coat and hat to get everything ready as soon as possible, “Don’t worry, I’ve got the power of creation, remember? It’ll only be a jiffy.”

The king had literally exploded into a burst of confetti, a sizzle of magic zapping him out of the room and away to the manor. You had blinked, the colored paper mache settling on your shoulders as you turned towards the hallway.

It seemed like the only thing that was left was to start packing, and so away you worked for the next few hours. 

Peaches was swaddled tightly against your chest in a makeshift baby wrap, made from a sheet of fabric that held her close and secure to you while you placed clothes and other items into organized boxes.

Lucifer had been back in a jiffy, appearing at your door right as you finished stuffing everything away into storage. It took a snap of his finger for all of your things to go poof in a cloud of red smoke, and the king had summoned a limo to take the three of you back to the manor, since traveling with magic was risky with an infant. 

You had stood on the front steps of the hotel, trying to contain the tears as you wished farewell to your friends. They watched you leave with furrowed brows, and Charlie had even sniffled once as you and your daughter climbed into the white vehicle. 

“Come by and visit us sometime!” Charlie called as the limo pulled off from the curve and you leaned out the window for a final wave as the hotel disappeared from view.

When you arrived at that glittering, white, and gold royal home, you were met with tall, imposing statues depicting regal figures from centuries past, their stony gazes fixed upon the entrance. As the limo pulled up to the front steps, you noticed the large gardens surrounding the manor, each flower seemingly in perfect bloom despite the season. Fountains sprayed later spouts of water up in the air, before cascading down into glittering pools.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Lucifer had smiled as you took your tour around the premises, examining the once-neatly trimmed bushes that lined the place.

There were no imp servants, or attendees at all really, which explained why the place was beginning to look overgrown by the hellish flora. Large red vines climbed up the manor’s side, a few even weaved across large panes of glass, windows that would have once offered a beautiful sight. 

It appeared the current homeowner was not doing a very good job maintaining the place, and you weren’t going to let this place rot any longer. You’d have to add landscaping to the job description when you felt good enough to do such heavy tasks.

Right as you stepped through those large, golden doors, you were greeted with crystal chandeliers that illuminated a giant corridor. Plush, red carpet met your feet as you a few more steps inside, your eyes tracing over the array of paintings and sculptures lining the walls, along with a few family portraits and other elegant decor. 

It was clear that the interior was designed by the women of the house, the lack of circus decor even prevalent inside the Hazbin Hotel was nowhere in sight. As you followed Lucifer down the hallway, you guessed his withdrawals had given him no strength to change the house to his liking. You stepped through a tall, open doorway into what seemed to be a parlor.

Lucifer paused, turning to you with a warm smile as you joined him with your daughter in your arms inside the living space. You took in the sight of velvet couches circling a large fireplace and a small bar snug against the opposite wall, bottles of liquor lining the racks behind the counter.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice soft as he turned. Peaches cooed softly, seemingly content in the entrancing, shiny surroundings. You followed Lucifer down another large corridor, and he began to give a proper tour of the residency.

You didn’t realize how big this place really was until he showed you the third parlor in the house. This one had more tables, seemingly for dining primarily, but with a similar fireplace nestled in one of the walls near two, red armchairs. 

When Lucifer said you’d have large, private areas, you assumed he was just being generous and giving you some of his dwellings. Now, you knew that wasn’t the case, as there was definitely enough for the both of you between three large bathrooms, five bedrooms, and two dining rooms. 

It took a few days to settle in, as Lucifer helped you unpack your things with easy magic and you found renewed energy in making the nursery perfect for your daughter.

It was clear, from day one, that the two of you weren’t going to be just roommates, when you found yourself stealing kick kisses from him as you organized the nursery, or when his hand found your waist as you rocked Peaches to sleep in your arms some days. Some nights, you found yourself playfully bantering with the fallen angel in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in your hands as gentle music played in the back. 

Lucifer’s presence and companionship seemed to be what you needed for your emotions to begin to stabilize, along with the fact that you had practically an entire mansion to yourself, instead of sharing the living areas with a large group of demons like back at the hotel. 

The king wasn’t holed up in his home all the time anymore, as he joined his daughter in promoting the hotel and actually making an effort to go to a meeting here and there. He had a purpose now, and you noticed that subtle ethereal radiance that lined his figure began to glow brighter with each passing day.

Lucifer’s social battery was still adjusting to the changes in his daily routines, and some nights he’d return with heavy eyelids and sluggish steps, as if he had returned from a battle against Heaven.

You had been sitting in the front parlor one cozy night, a book in your hand as you waited for the king’s return. He usually wasn’t gone so long, and the dinner you had made had gone cold, so all there was to do was sit around and wait.

Your daughter’s colic seemed to have tapered off by now, as it has already been a few weeks since you arrived at the manor. This was a relief, and you found yourself sleeping much longer, your energy and patience naturally returning. 

That fear of being useless began to dissipate, now that you were able to enjoy time in the kitchen, testing out new receipts for Lucifer as his chef. He paid you very handsomely, even though you rarely did cook as you recovered from postpartum and kept busy with the baby.

You didn’t complain though, it was nice to see a paycheck that could actually cover all your groceries and bills, if you actually paid any of the bills around here... did Lucifer even have bills?

Your thoughts were cut off when the sound of heeled boots thumped across the corridor right outside the room, and the book in your hands lowered to the coffee table in front of you. 

Lucifer kicked off his boots at the door to the parlor, his hooves meeting the carpet as they dragged towards the couch you were lazing on. His blonde was hair disheveled, and some of the gold buttons on his vest were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of what lay below his collarbone.

He looked exhausted, his eyes tiredly frog-blinking as he fell against the cushions beside you, before exhaling a long, drawn-out sigh. 

“Rough day?” You whispered softly, and he turned his head slightly to face you.

“Just.. a lot,” was Lucifer’s response, his eyelids fluttering close for a few moments as he drank in the warmth from the crackling fire nearby.

You watched the fallen angel for a few more moments, his breath rising and falling slowly as he relaxed. His skin practically glowed against the soft colors thrown across the room from the dancing flames. A thought crossed your mind, and hesitantly, you reached a hand to Lucifer’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly from your touch, before relaxing slowly as you gripped his shoulder and forearm and began tugging him to lay down against you. He turned his head, raising a brow as he began to lean against you.

“Come here,” you smiled warmly, as you pulled him to fall over against you.

Lucifer’s head softly landed on your lap, his face upturned towards the ceiling as you smiled down at him. He watched the orange light reflect against your skin, enhancing your already perfect features. 

You lifted a hand towards his face, before you began to gently brush your fingers through his hair. Your nails grazed against the king’s scalp and a satisfied sigh left his lips. A hum reached his ears, as you quietly filled the room, with the soft tune. 

Something stirred inside the king, and emotions began bubbling up into his throat, and he could barely contain them as his lips parted.

“Can I tell you something?” Lucifer whispered after a moment.

“Of course,” you nodded, tilting your head down to him.

“I think… that I’m in love with you.”

Those words had your hands stilling against his scalp, and your breath hitched.

Lucifer in love with you? 

Oh, the joy you felt, at finally hearing those words you only had dreamed of for so long. Your grin spreading ear to ear as heat crept across your cheeks.

“Oh, you silly man,” you laughed softly down to the nervous face in your lap, before you gripped Lucifer by the collar and pulled him up from your lap.

You leaned down and pressed your lips softly to his, and the king rose the rest of the way on his own. He pulled you against him, as his back hit the cushions and you pivoted to straddle him as the kiss deepened. 

Lucifer’s arms were snaked around your waist, and your hands cupped both sides of his face as the two of you were lost in this intimate, quiet moment of affection finally revealed.

Time flew by fast after that, once your daily routines began to settle into place. Lucifer began to step in more in raising the baby, and sometimes you’d find your daughter in his arms, and a sweet, soothing tune coming from his lips.

You’d stand there, leaning against the nursery doorway as you watched with a warm smile. Peaches was beginning to like–no, love him. You could tell when she started to let him dress her up without her usual stink eye. She was now able to sit up and speak in her own, unique form of baby talk.

“Stop moving,” You had heard Lucifer laugh one day from inside the large bedroom, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be!”

A string of incomprehensible sounds followed, high-pitched babbling from the tiny figure in response.

“Hey, don’t give me attitude, missy!” You heard playful chastising from the king, and you turned into the doorway to see his back towards you, as he kneeled over your daughter. 

Her tiny legs kicked in protest as he wrangled something onto her, and you took a few steps into the room before announcing your presence.

“Lucifer…?” You started, nearing the bed.

He jumped at your voice, before pivoting to face you with an innocent smile. Your daughter was visible now, some kind of bright yellow fabric around her head and hugging the rest of her body.

“Hey! Don’t mind us, we're just testing something!” Lucifer’s smile widened.

“Testing what?” You asked with a smile.

Lucifer’s smile turned playful as he turned back to your daughter and lifted her towards you, and your eyes widened.

Peaches was dressed in a fuzzy, yellow duck onesie. Its head was designed into a hood that was pulled over her head, the orange beaking sticking out and resting slightly on her forehead. She babbled something incoherent with an open, gummed smile, something probably along the lines of ‘Look! Don’t I look so gosh darn cute?’

“I pulled out some of Charlie’s baby clothes from storage, and funny enough they fit Peaches just fine,” Lucifer continued, placing his cheek against your daughter’s and rubbing it affectionately with puckered lips, “She is so adowable in her wittle onesie, huh?”

“Yes, she is!” You cooed, leaning forward to pinch one of her cheeks with a grin.

The three of you were beginning to turn into a proper family, and it became obvious when Lucifer started making breakfast for the three of you in the early mornings, despite paying you for such tasks.

“You know that's my job, right?” You quirked a brow as Lucifer stood in front of the stone, flipping large, fluffy pancakes in a pan, before placing them upon a steaming pile of deliciousness. 

“You have days off, don’t you?” He hummed in response, turning off the stove and sliding the plate into his hands, “Will you grab the syrup for me, please?”

You opened the cupboards nearby, grabbing the large bottle of syrup as you followed him toward the dining area, your daughter playing with a rattle on the floor near the long table. She was able to crawl now, a speedy little demon that took off as soon as you turned the other way. 

Luckily, Lucifer had baby gates to help with that, and now she was easily confined into any room for fear of escaping. Her tiny stomach growled and she lifted her gaze from the toy as you and Lucifer stepped over the gate. 

Peaches squealed with happiness, and began to crawl towards you, her hands plapping against the tile as she moved. She slowed right next to the last dining chair at the table, before her head lifted to examine it for a moment. 

Your daughter began to lift herself onto two feet as she gripped the dining chair’s leg. She was getting good at standing by herself, but she had never managed to successfully step forward and not flop back onto her butt. 

You set the syrup on the dining table, ignoring her movements as first as you helped set the table. It wasn’t until you turned to place her into the high chair, did you watch your daughter’s foot begin to lift.

Peaches took one step forward, wobbling slightly as she tried to regain balance. Your mouth dropped, and your arm reached out to grip the back of Lucifer’s shirt and tug him beside you.

“What’s going on, why are yo–” Lucifer froze beside you, as your daughter lifted the other foot and took another wobbly step forward.

She had never remained on two feet for this long, and she didn’t look like she was stopping yet. Lucifer quickly lowered onto his knees, and you joined him as he stretched out his arms.

“Peaches, come on!” He called to the little girl, who was only a foot away from the two as she smiled at the fallen angel and took another step closer.

You joined him, cheering for your daughter as she took another step, and another, and then she reached out her little arms towards the two of you. She took the final step, before she lost total balance and fell forward.

The both of you jumped forward and embraced Peaches at once, the three of you in a tight huddle of affection as your daughter giggled against your chest. 

You peppered kisses against her forehead, tears pricking at your eyes as you lifted them to meet Lucifer’s gaze. His eyes were glistening as well, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, your smile large and brilliant. 

It was clear now, that your little family had grown to include another, and you were so thrilled it was Lucifer. Your ex, and the fears that came with his betrayal began to dissipate from your mind, and a tear rolled down your cheek in happiness. 

From that day on, you promised to make sure that your little girl would always have a father in her life, although it seems like you’ve already found the one who would cherish her for the rest of eternity.

“Psst, Mom!” 

You grumbled incoherently, still in the clutches of sleep as the voice rudely interrupted the nice dream you had been having in the early hours of the morning.

“Moooooommmm, wake up!”

You stirred awake at the voice hissing in your ear, your eyes fluttering open inside the dark master bedroom of the manor. Someone was standing right in front of you, a short figure tapping her foot impatiently as you lifted your head from the pillows.

The room was still covered in blackness, the morning light unable to escape through the blackout curtains blanketing the large bedroom. You could see the outline of a small figure in the shadows at the edge of your bed, illuminated by the open doorway behind her.

“What is it, baby?” You rubbed your tired eyes, turning to face your daughter.

Peaches was much older now, the name long outgrown her as she aged from toddler, to child, to girl. She resembled a nine year old now, that cute baby fat gone from her limbs, and her chubby little cheeks beginning to sharpen into gorgeous features. 

“Can I go with Charlie to the mall? She said she’ll pick me up in an hour if that’s okay.”

Charlie and your daughter had been doing everything together lately, which you guessed was because of the older woman’s joy in having a little sister she could take under her wing. They may not be related by blood, but nobody could tell the difference with the bond those two shared.

Peaches often assisted her at the now-bustling hotel, learning how to best help the inhabitants of Hell through the teachings of her sisterly figure. 

“Sure, tell Charlie I said hi,” you nodded with a smile, and your daughter bounced giddily on her toes.

“Yay! Thank you, mom!” She lowered her face down to leave a quick kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arms around your neck for a tight hug before backing away, “I Love you, see you later!”

You watched her rush out of the room with a slip in her step, the door closing softly behind her. 

“What was all that about?” A voice tiredly mumbled beside you, and warm arms snaked around your waist. 

You laid your head back against the pillow, repositioning your body to face toward the naked figure beside you.

“She just wanted to go out and have some fun with Charlie,” you replied to the tired, pearly face before you, his blonde hair disheveled around him as he blinked the sleep away with a yawn.

“Those two are like glue, nowadays,” your husband, Lucifer, yawned, pulling you flush against his bare chest in one smooth motion.

You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck, placing wet kisses across his skin, earning a pleasurable noise from his throat. 

“Should we get up and make some breakfast?” You asked into his skin.

“Five more minutes,” you heard him mutter, as he rubbed his cheek against yours affectionately.

That gives me five more minutes to think about how lucky I am to have you by my side.

“Okay,” you smiled softly, placing a loving kiss against his forehead before snuggling closer, “Five more minutes.” 

woah lots of emotions in this one, good thing everything worked out in the end, eh? the art was done by indxlulu over on twt, go check out some of their other work!

what did you think? let me know! <3

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco @xoxohugslove @ivebeenthearchersstuff @indestructeible @otherthoughtsofbu

[bloomzone]

GLOW UP DIARY:#3 the power of self-care

"If you don't have a dream, that's okay too. It's possible not to have a dream. If you're happy, that's all that matters"

-Suga

heyy sparkles...so today it's the third part of the glow up and thank you so so much T-T for the support in the second part

Edit: haircare,nail care is for apparence part I focused on routines,skincare,body care in this part (I'm so busy these days T-T<3)

© bloomzone

#3 SELF CARE

✉️ : Self-care includes activities like eating well, exercising, and relaxing to maintain physical, mental, and emotional health. It's essential for managing stress and enhancing overall well-being.

Self-care is essential for maintaining balance

﹙ ✿ ﹚Taking care of yourself is about finding simple, comforting routines that make you feel good. Start with small steps, like taking a relaxing bath,do ur skincare , journal...Prioritize these moments and remember that they are just as important as anything else on your to-do list. Celebrate your progress, no matter how small, and choose activities that genuinely make you happy. Listen to your body and give yourself the rest and care you need. By focusing on what brings you comfort and joy, you'll create a self-care routine that feels natural and rewarding.

HOW TO START SELF-CARE ?

Have a routine: It is really important to have a routine because if not you could have bad sleeping, be tired all day, get boredeasily, won't be able to finish responsibilities, it can bring you bad self esteem, unmotivated and in general is a complete mess.

Example of a routine (by me)

summer version.

⏰( wake up at 4:30am to pray ifajr if u are a Muslim :) )

♡ ﾟwake up at 9:30am

♡ ﾟmake bed

♡ ﾟdrink water

♡ ﾟmorning stretch 15min

♡ ﾟskincare/quick shower

♡ ﾟbreakfast

♡ ﾟhelp mom if needed

♡ ﾟphone time

⏰(pray duhr if u are Muslim:) )

♡ ﾟlunch time

♡ ﾟnap

♡ ﾟfull workout

⏰(pray asr if you are Muslim:) )

♡ ﾟstart learning a language,see friends or simply watch a movie

⏰(pray Maghrib if you are a Muslim :) )

♡ ﾟhelp mom cooking dinner

♡ ﾟwash dishes

♡ ﾟcheck social

♡ ﾟskincare

♡ ﾟget ready for bed

♡ ﾟsleep at 10pm

Things u can add to your routine :

cleaning ur room

- wardrobe

- desk

cooking

- I will share my fav recipes in next blogs 🤫

set goals for next year

- academic goals

- life goals ( saving money,body goal ...)

sunday self care day routine

summer version

⏰( salat al fajr + reading Quran for Muslims)

♡ ﾟwake up at 9am

♡ ﾟdo ur bed

♡ ﾟmeditation

♡ ﾟskincare + face mask

♡ ﾟjournal/affirmations

♡ ﾟice coffee/tea

♡ ﾟmorning stretch 15min

♡ ﾟbreakfast

♡ ﾟhelp in cleaning

♡ ﾟwear ur fit

♡ ﾟgo shopping

⏰(pray duhr in masjid if u luv to :) )

♡ ﾟlunch

♡ ﾟfull workout

📍everything shower time

- hair mask

- shave

- body care

📍after shower

- dry your hair

- clean/paint ur nails

- wear ur comfy pyjamas

♡ ﾟwatch a movie

⏰(pray Maghrib if you are Muslim)

♡ ﾟquality time with ur family/friends

📍get ready for bed

- write down what u achieve this week

- affirmations

⏰(pray Isha if u are Muslim)

♡ ﾟskincare

♡ ﾟget ur beauty sleep at 10pm

SELF-CARE BODYCARE AND SKINCARE

1.skincare

﹙ ✿ ﹚ I know that we all love shopping and buying things because it's pink or aesthetic or it's just because it's a famous products NO NO this wroong u don't need to buy a whole truck of innisfree products because it's pink or glow recipe buy products that will work for u if u have acnes and ur face hurt everytime u try to sleep or u wanna just wash it,visit a dermatologist he will give the product that ur skin need to heal again. (As a girl with strict parents hhh they didn't let me go I'm 16yo btw),so I start to buy random products until I found the perfect one for my skin (I have a terrible TERRIBLE oily skin)+ if u are 12-18 don't use serum's without permission of doctor u will just broke ur skin texture I bought ordinary serum and it just make my skin worst + it's an expansive sht ☠️

How to get rid of acne ?

♡ ⠀skincare secrets !

⊹ ‧avoid junk food

⊹ ‧fresh vegetables and fruits

⊹ ‧icing your face

⊹ ‧clay mask (recommended by me)

⊹ ‧avoid using a lot of skincare products

⊹ ‧ simplify ur skincare routine ( cleanser,toner, moisturizer)

⊹ ‧get 7-8 hour of sleep

⊹ ‧rice water

⊹ ‧don't sleep with ur make up

⊹ ‧stay hydrate

⊹ ‧change ur pillowcase (one in a week)

⊹ ‧ cucumber slice as a mask

⊹ ‧don't touch ur face

♡   Item you need

⊹ ‧pimples patches

⊹ ‧silicone facial cleaner (for deep cleaning)

⊹ ‧headband (keep ur hair up always)

2.BODY CARE

﹙ ✿ ﹚ Taking care of your body is a vital part of feeling your best, both inside and out. A good body care routine can boost your confidence and help you embrace your natural beauty. Body care is also about self-love and taking time for yourself amidst a busy schedule remember girlie every skin type is beautiful, and finding the right routine can enhance your natural glow.

♡   Body care secrets

⊹ ‧ don't shave (ur body)early until u are in the right age (+17) , if u are not a hairy girl no need to shave :)

⊹ ‧ shower everyday (don't wash ur hair )

⊹ ‧ choose the right body wash (nivea,vaseline >>)

⊹ ‧ stay hydrate avoid junk foods to protect ur body skin from pimples

⊹ ‧Exfoliate your skin 1-2 times a week to remove dead skin cells and promote cell renewal. Use a gentle scrub suitable for your skin type (coconut oil brown sugar >>)

💌 : How to shave ur leg and have a smooth soft skin

1- soak ur leg in warm water for (3 to 5 min) to make ur skin ready

2- use ur fav body scrub and exfoliate your body from death skin

3- use something like body oil or shaving cream and find a good razor at least 3 blades (venus Gillette is on top)

4- shave with slow don't be harsh,long strock and don't forget to wash the razor everytime

5- after drying ur legs use any lotion u like to give the skin the extra moisture + using baby oil to avoid strawberry legs

⊹ ‧ Choose body care products that are free from harsh chemicals and fragrances Opt for natural and gentle ingredients stay healthy girlie

⊹ ‧ avoid very hot water

⊹ ‧ Use natural oils like coconut oil, almond oil, or jojoba oil for deep hydration. Apply them after a shower or use them as an overnight treatment for extra softness.

♡   item you need

⊹ ‧ dry brush

��� ‧ loofah

⊹ ‧ natural soap (for ur 🐱)

⊹ ‧ razor pack

⊹ ‧ body scrub

⊹ ‧ body wash

⊹ ‧ africain exfoliating nets

⊹ ‧ body moisturizer

⊹ ‧ Shea butter

⊹ ‧ Epsom salt

ıllı ⠀ : ⠀Self-care is essential for every girl to nurture her mind, body, and spirit. Taking time for yourself isn’t selfish; it’s necessary. Whether it's indulging in a relaxing bath, practicing mindfulness, or simply taking a break to read a good book, these moments help recharge your energy and boost your confidence. Remember, you deserve to feel good and be happy. Prioritizing self-care allows you to show up as your best self in every area of your life. So, take a deep breath, put yourself first, and watch how everything else falls into place. Ilvy sm ⠀ ♡ ⠀ !!

© bloomzone

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴄᴜᴘɪᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴡʟ), ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴜʜ. ʀᴀᴄɪꜱᴍ (ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟꜱ!), ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ ᴊᴜᴍᴘꜱᴄᴀʀᴇ, [ɴᴀᴍᴇ] ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Love Deity whose temple you grew up in; Intricate paintings and marble sculptures depicting their ethereal figure surrounding you as the years pass and you go from being one of the children raised within the temple’s immaculate halls, to the most devoted priest serving Luvarin. 

You firmly believe that love goes beyond just romance, the love between two partners in union, but extends to a love that matters just as much; the love between family, between friends, or even the simple love for your neighbour. It shows in how you preach, emphasising the importance of that connection and teaching the children that just as they should pursue the kind of love depicted in the sacred partnerships of the Gods, they should search for the love between two great friends, like that of the Merciful One and his sibling Qhetohr. 

Yandere Love Deity who hears your name in only a few months after your induction into priesthood. But really, they took notice of your presence before that. It was hard not to. Not when your offerings were always of the highest quality: Intricate carvings of sparrows, wines brewed with the strawberries grown in the temple, and not to mention the hymns you sang and wrote for them which were always a delight to listen to. 

But what really drew them to your offerings was not merely the quality, no, no, they had no shortage of extravagant offerings from their wealthy followers. It was the fact that you had taken the time to create them yourself. Now, handcrafted gifts weren’t uncommon either, but really it was the dedication. To truly devote yourself to creating such impeccable displays of faith… why, it was enough to make their heart flutter. And that was no small feat. Luvarin decides that it’s high time that they reward you. 

It’s small at first. Little things that build progressively till you realise that life has been treating you suspiciously too well recently. Your recently published text debating the moral lesson one should take from the fall of the house of Arus has taken off to unforeseen heights. You’ve been promoted in the temple. You managed to avoid getting hit by a vase dropped right on top of you, unintentionally of course, because it somehow, miraculously, got blown away by the wind. 

Yandere Love Deity, who is of course, the one responsible for it all. It’s almost like you know that, because your prayers become more intimate and personal. Truly grateful for everything Luvarin is doing for you– Well you don’t exactly address it to Luvarin, you’re praying to the Gods in general, but still. They’re the reason why you’re so lucky in the first place, and hearing you passionately thanking them so genuinely, is enough to have them giggle and kick their feet with absolute delight. 

‘O Children of Kases, hear my call, I offer you my deepest gratitude, for the countless blessings you bestow upon my path, For the love that surrounds me, both seen and unseen, for the beauty of the world and the kindness of hearts.

Thank you for the lessons, both gentle and harsh, that shape me, mold me, and help me grow. For the strength to overcome challenges, And the wisdom to see the truth within. 

In the quiet whisper of the leaves, In the gentle glow of the moon, I feel your essence, ever near, Guiding me, loving me, holding me….’

Laying in the fluffy, warm, and comfortable surface of their bed, Luvarin sighs. Truly, they were amazing. They’re aware that your prayer is not just for them, but for all their siblings as well, but sheesh, who were they kidding? Of course, this prayer was meant for them! Who else has been aiding you so much? Giving you such powerful blessings and bountiful gifts, their merciful brother had competition!

Luvarin sits up, and summons their scrying bowl. It was a new one that they haven’t used yet, it was a gift from you, one of your beautiful wood carvings. 

They don’t usually like using wood in their equipment, it was for commoner mortals. But this bowl was of a perfect shape, the width was of their exact preference, it wasn’t flimsy and easily scratched or damaged, and it was designed with carved drawings of myths that centred around Luvarin themself. 

Seriously, how lucky could they be, to have a follower as devoted and as considerate with his offerings as you are. Compared to the rough and unpolished quality of the mere commoners and the superficial and needlessly gaudy level the nobles reached, yours were a breath of fresh air in how much care was placed into them. 

Thinking about it is enough for Luvarin's already present smile to widen further.

Luvarin waves their hand in a delicate flourish, and the bowl fills itself with a clear, mystical water, the surface shimmering with images of the activity below the heavens. They press one tawny finger, and it pauses. 

Their brow furrows in concentration, Luvarin purses their lip, and close their eyes as they search for your presence. 

“Aha!” There you are darling.

Luvarin's eyes open, gleaming purple, and they clap their hands with delight as the water morphs to show them the familiar sight of your room in the temple. The bed on the right, blanket strewn haphazardly on the soft mattress. Your desk is on the left covered in the drafts for your latest text. Then there's you, on your knees in front of the window, hands held in prayerful position, head bowed submissively and your eyes closed in concentration. The moonlight pouring in and shining down on you.

Despite being one of Kases’ powerful children, a literal god, Luvarin was a mere afterthought to the mortals. Unlike mighty Uren, or their fearsome twin Qhetohr, why should one concern themself with the deity of Love for anything more than matters of romance? They were a joke in the Heavens, mortals literally painted them as a cherub with a pathetically small bow and a heart tipped arrow. 

Not to mention that a lot of their priests were nothing better than scammers who tricked desperate and lonely people and naive mortals who believed that serving in Luvarin's temple could give them luck in their love life. 

But, then there was you. [Name]. Sweet, genuine [Name]. 

Luvarin traces their finger around your face, enjoying each and every detail. Sometimes, when they watch you, from the scrying bowl or in the form of a sparrow, they have the desire to just reach out and touch you. To truly feel the warmth that you radiated. To know that you're real, and not just something that their mind has come up with. 

A wisp blows in. Luvarin clicks their tongue, less than pleased about the interruption. They snatch it out of the air, it wiggles and tries to escape from their grasp, but eventually it tires. 

“Speak,” Luvarin drawls, tapping on their leg impatiently. 

Wisps, little creatures born from the mist of the Jaurdenia River and used by Luvarin and their siblings as messengers. Round, bouncy, balls of wind that glowed far too brightly for Luvarin's keen eyes. They were cute and Luvarin loved to throw them around their palace and watch them zip and crash into the walls, but right now it was [Name] time, and [Name] time was as sacred to them as the annual Luvercalia ritual. 

The wisp squirms a bit, their golden centre glowing darker in concentration, before relaxing as the honey-like smoke pours out of it. The whispers of their merciful brother carried by the fumes, “Luvarin, please do know that I will be visiting you soon to discuss some matters.” 

Luvarin groans, frustration rolling off of them in waves. They loved their merciful brother. Really who didn't? But they'd much rather get back to watching you from the scrying bowl and listening to you sing their praises. 

However deep down Luvarin knows that if they were to not show up, then he would worry and tell Qhetohr to check on them, and then Qhetohr would find about you and then– 

To the deepest pits of Demorta, why are they dreading the mere idea of Qhetohr discovering you? Their beautiful, precious, fragile mortal. Oh, it's precisely because of that. You're mortal, you're fragile, and Qhetohr would delight in absolutely tearing you to shreds if they found out you're the reason why Luvarin stood up their merciful brother. 

Luvarin gnashed their teeth, their hand squeezed the wisp so tightly in their stress, they're snapped out of their furious thoughts by a sharp pop and the cool mist that seeps through their closed fist; the remains of the unfortunate wisp. 

Fine. Fine! If that is what must be done to keep you a secret, safe from Qhetohr’s blade. Then they'll do it. 

Luvarin waves away the scrying bowl, and with a flourish of their hand, a regal purple chlamys settles over their shoulders and they rub at the cool, golden brooch holding it in place. 

Their steps echo through the lavish, empty halls of their palace. A bird flies through the nearby garden, sunlight seeping in through the gaps between the chiselled pillar, and the smell of rain-soaked leaves pervades the air. Last night they forgot to renew the barriers that prevented the rain from getting in. Usually they would just flick their wrist to get the job done, but they were watching you work away at your latest text on Uren's Rebellion. 

Luvarin halts as a realisation dawns on them. When did they start to care for you? If they paused and took a look at the situation, it was strange. It shouldn’t even be possible. 

Them, a Love God. Twin to Destruction and Insanity themself. One of Kases’ powerful children. A literal living legend, responsible for the Fall of the House of Arus. And here they are, pouring their time and attention into a simple priest, their very own servant, and practically mooning over him instead of doing literally anything else. 

Before they can ponder further on this topic, a familiar figure enters their view. He waves, and flashes them a smile that Qhetohr would kill to keep for themself. Luvarin beams, pretty portrait perfect smile reserved for greeting guests and people they would rather not deal with at the current moment. 

They’ll deal with you later. They have all the time in the world, after all. 

Yandere Love Deity who starts to fall in love with you. They would like to say that it’s a slow and gradual process. But honestly, it’s not. It’s humiliating how quickly it all happens. One day they’re watching you writing your newest text, one moment you’re pondering your next sentence, then your eyes light up with a brilliant idea and Luvarin can’t help but genuinely smile, because they’re happy for you, for your breakthrough, because it’s something that you wanted, and what you want they want you to get and when that thought pops into their head that’s when they realise what the burning flame in their heart actually is. 

Yandere Love Deity who has had mortal lovers. They were all the same; Bold, filthy little creatures full of hubris that thought they could surpass the children of Kases. Luvarin’s infatuation with them never lasted long, they weren't meant to. They were all only mortal after all. And they completely expect the same to be true with you. Yes, they know what they’re feeling is love, but really what is the difference between loving something and desiring it?

So they descend to earth in human form, ready to charm you, have a bit of fun, and then leave like it’s nothing. It should be easy, right? 

Yandere Love Deity who disguises themself as a wandering traveller, settling into the town for a short while. After all, Luvercalia is coming soon, what traveler wouldn't want to take this opportunity to partake in the festival right in the town that Luvarin had once used as their base of operations during the rebellion? Mortals were weird, but they get it. To witness the sacred ritual dedicated to Luvarin take place on the very soil their holy blood was once spilled on, any god worshipping mortal worth their salt would not hesitate to take this opportunity. They are simply as one would say, blending in with the locals. 

Yandere Love Deity whose first meeting with you is not like what they imagined at first. They imagined that they'd charm you first, then they would sweep you off of your feet and seduce you into breaking your vow of chastity, pardon you from whatever punishment they dished out nowadays and then leave. 

Yandere Love Deity who barely even  gets to say since you're running through the town, making preparations for the upcoming Luvercalia festival and the ritual. Instead of a proper introduction where the two of you exchange pleasantries and get to know each other, all you get to say is: “Ah, hello traveler. Please, make yourself welcome here.” Before being pulled away to select a sparrow to sacrifice for the ritual.

But then they manage to catch you in your downtime, and you look at them for a moment as if you're trying to figure out where you've seen them before, and then you snap your fingers and you smile, your eyes creasing and wrinkling a bit at the edges and you apologize for not getting to introduce yourself properly earlier, but you remember them. You remember them even if they were probably nothing more than just one nameless face in your hectic day, and that… for some reason the mere fact that they were still important enough for you to remember amidst everything else that was going on, it just… 

Yandere Love Deity who isn’t prepared for how you make them feel. Holy.. the way you have their heart racing has them thinking you are the one who’s the god of love here, and they’re the one who should be worshipping you and singing your praises. Just seeing your smile has them weak in the knees. It shouldn’t be possible, you’re just some mortal destined to die out and fade away while they are a literal God, who has seen kingdoms and empires fall and rise in what to you is centuries, but to them is merely a small drop of water in the vast ocean of their existence. 

Yandere Love Deity, who still thinks that they can get out of this. Just like their destructive twin, they’re as stubborn as a mule. An immovable object that refuses to budge no matter how hard you push them. 

Yandere Love Deity who changes their mind so quickly it’s embarrassing. They try to distance themselves from you and pull themself out of whatever hold you have on them, but each and every attempt is foiled, not even on purpose, by you. You and your natural charms that has them caught, hook line and sinker. How can they not fall deeper in their love for you when you make it so easy to just descend deeper? 

Yandere Love Deity who continues to interact with you in mortal form. Slowly they become as much of a daily fixture in your life as you are in theirs, and they can't be more pleased about it. However their joy is short-lived when their greatest fear comes true; Qhetohr finds out. 

Cruel, wicked Qhetohr. Obsidian eyes curling with a malicious delight as they remind Luvarin that though beings such as them, deities, will continue to exist even when they will be forgotten and turn from reality to mere myth, that you will return to the dust and dirt that Uren used to mould your kind into shape.

Yandere Love Deity who comes to the realisation that a life without you is no life at all. And so they waste no time in ordering the clouds to part, for the sun to shine down right in front of you, and then descend down to you in their godly form, their entrance announced by pale rose petals gently floating down from the heavens.

Yandere Love Deity who does everything properly. They had a ring forged by Ularus, encrusted with small, absolutely dazzling rubies. They've wrapped it in a pure white cloth, with sparrows and roses embroidered into it. 

They get down on one knee and unveil the ring, and say those four famous words. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are wide and your mouth is gaping. Clearly you're shocked. They understand. You've just learned that sly, mischievous Erasmus is the very God you worship, serve, and mention in each prayer— and now they're proposing to you! It would be mind blowing for any mortal. 

But they let you calm down and process everything, they're patient like that, and they wait with bated breath and an eager grin for your response and the words that leave your lips are–

“I– Forgive me, Lord,” You take a shaky step back, your eyes dart around– People are staring– you purse your lips, “But I cannot accept your proposal. You're a god and I'm a mortal and it just– It won't work!”

“[Name], darling, please,” Luvarin laughs, clearly you're not thinking straight, still in shock they suppose, “In all the years that I have walked this earth, I have had many, and I am not joking when I say many, lovers. And many were just like you my love: Mortal. With crimson blood running through their veins and fragile bodies doomed to age.” 

They stand up and reach for your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, and even if their heart twinges, they soften their smile– Remember Luvarin, mortals are sensitive creatures. Be patient– and grip it tighter. 

You wince and they swear they can feel a phantom around their own hand in response.

Luvarin slips the ring on your finger. They wrap an arm around your waist, they ignore how you whimper and the fear in your eyes, and they bring you closer. 

“But you… darling, you are special. Compared to all those shallow creatures, your soul is vast, as wide as the earth, and the only one able to captivate me in the way that only you are uniquely capable of.”

“None of them can compare to you. Nobody can,” Luvarin can feel you shaking as they press a kiss to your temple, “And that is why I want– no need to marry you. I need you in my life [Name], and it's because you're mortal that we need to get married as soon as possible.”

You push them away, and this time they let you just so they can see the look on your face. 

Your brows are knit, and your lip is stiff. They've never seen this expression on you before. But they've seen it on Uren. On their merciful brother. On countless other gods and mortals through the ages. 

It was an expression that told Luvarin that they were about to hear something they didn't want to hear. 

Yandere Love Deity who thinks that you made an attempt to be gentle in your rejection, at least at first. But then it was their persistence that got to you. 

They saw glimpses of it in their time masquerading as a mortal. Your anger. It simmered underneath your skin and has been burning since you were young and pure. 

Their merciful brother told them, he knew you before when you barely reached their mortal form's waist, that you came from a pagan land. A land that was ransacked and pillaged and absorbed into Uren’s ruling. You came in, resentful and bitter with no desire to listen and obey to the people who killed your family. 

They know that you don't like the gods. Even now that you're a priest. But they thought that they were an exception, you got to know them as not a god after all, as Erasmus and not as Luvarin. 

Yandere Love Deity who is met with your frigid glare and… Gods, they can't bring themselves to remember the words you wielded like sharp blades. All they remember you telling them before they allow themselves to be swept away by the wind is that they should find another god to marry instead

Yandere Love Deity who weeps with such force that the skies turn grey, the oceans crash and churn, and the wind blows so violently it's nearly enough to have you whisked away from the earth's surface. It's enough to draw the attention of Qhetohr who cackles at the sight of Luvarin’s tear-stricken face. 

“I told you so!” Qhetohr’s obsidian eyes flash menacingly, “Mortals are fools. Arrogant, bumbling, fools. You could promise him the world and he would still turn up his nose at the thought of spending an eternity with you.” 

Luvarin clicks their tongue and avoids Qhetohr’s gaze, they wipe away their tears before facing their twin with a burning glare, its force lessened with the redness of their eyes, “Are you done?” 

Qhetohr snickers, they plop down on the kline beside Luvarin and hook an arm around their shoulders, ignoring their protests as they bring them closer, “Don’t be like that. After all,” Qhetohr smirks, “I’m here to help you.” 

Yandere Love Deity whose love for you turns bitter, it’s still there but it’s tinged with resentment, and Qhetohr only fans the flames higher till Luvarin doesn't think twice before saying yes to whatever Qhetohr has cooked up for you.

Yandere Love Deity who continues to watch you, watching as you experience misfortune. It starts with you injuring yourself more frequently. You struggle to think of what else to write in your latest text. The roses you've been growing in the temples wilt. If your public rejection of them wasn't enough already, this was enough to convince the town you're bad news. The temple's head priestess who once told you she understood why you refused Luvarin now glares at you coldly as she hands you your things and tells you you are no longer welcome within their walls.

Then it intensifies, your bad luck bleeding out into your surroundings. The food in the stores turn foul and rot. The animals start dying, flies surrounding their corpses and crows picking away at the meat. The village falls to unidentifiable sickness that the physicians and priests are not able to cure. It all comes to a head when the waters become infected and run black. 

Who else could be responsible other than the ex-priest who rejected his own god? 

They scream at you, they curse you out as your ‘brothers and sisters’ hold you down with flinty stares on top of the stone table. Your bare skin pressing on the cold surface. They stripped you down to your loincloth and doused you in the freezing waters of the Yulerine River all in preparation for this moment.  

One acolytes light the candles at the feet of the altar, and another one pours wine into a bowl and sets it in front of the statue of Luvarin behind you. A priestess lights the incense sticks and the air is filled with the scent of smoke tinged with roses.

The head priestess holds a hand up and closes it, the crowd goes quiet. You can see them, their purple eyes framed by their golden locks, royal and cold, narrowing with what you can only describe as a sadistic glee.

“We stand here today,” The head priestess bellows, “To witness the execution of a traitor to the temple, to our patron and god: Lord Luvarin.”

“Sister, please–”

“He has offended our Lord!” Her voice drowns out your pitiful voice, “And by his death, we shall rectify his foolish mistake. We shall offer his life as an offering to our Lord and beg for their forgiveness by giving them the man who has refused their love that which he does not deserve to have!”

You search the masses for somebody, anybody who can see past this farce and save you. But amidst the mass of people who you have grown up with, who you have helped, who you have supported through the hardest of times only to find aggression and rage that should not be directed at you. 

The head priestess starts to chant the prayers for ritual. The damn Luvercalia ritual. You want to laugh. You spent weeks planning everything meticulously down to the tiniest detail, and you don't even get to see the fruit of your labour because now instead of the sparrow you picked out from the town's aviary, the adorable little bird you've spent so much time grooming and preparing for this exact moment, you are now lying here, being rushed through the sacrifice preparations that should've been done over the course of two weeks. 

You want to laugh, and so you do because now that you're going to die you don't have to care about maintaining appearances. 

One of the acolytes holding you down, a teen boy with freckles and mousy hair named Kreo, glares at you, “Shut your mouth, swine.” 

You only laugh harder, because this little boy is trying to act tough when you've already seen him bawl his eyes out when he broke an ankle trying to save a cat from a tree. 

A balled up piece of cloth is shoved into your mouth and you choke on your own spit and gag as it touches the entrance of your throat.

Usually you love it when it rains, but when it starts to fall in slow drops, building up till eventually you're shivering from the rain, you want to cry because when you died, you at least wished for golden haired Ebris to grant you the mercy of letting the sun shine down on you in your final moments.

As the head priestess starts reciting the prayers, and the men and women who you grew up with in the temple anoint with you oils and salts for the sacrifice, you search for them in the sea of faces and you find them easily. Their lips spread into a devious grin, teeth shining from beneath their hood, and they mouth to you: This is your fault.

“This is your fault!” A grieving father screamed at you as he held his dying daughter. 

“This is your fault,” Your friend hissed at you from between her teeth when the cows on her family's farm began to drop like flies. 

“This is your fault,” The head priestess spoke with a measured tone when you were removed from the temple and your position as priest, “And that is why you are no longer welcome here.” 

The head priestess lifts her head from her prayer, and she spreads her arms wide, “Let the ritual begin!”

The people cheer as your eyes widen and you struggle against the hands holding you down. You try to find somebody with even a hint of pity in their face, but all you see is disgust and resentment.

Despite your struggle and the clear panic and fear in your eyes, an acolyte holds out a wooden box decorated with intricate carvings of flora and sparrows, too pretty to be holding the deadly sharp blade forged from Ofriedian metal that you had personally shined and sharpened to perfection. 

The head priestess plucks it out daintily, holding it with reverence. She weighs it in her hand, before gripping the hilt and pressing it against your bare skin. 

She leans down into your ear, you can barely hear her voice amidst the raucous noise of the eagerly awaiting villagers, “You have cursed us all with your actions,” Her breath that smells like citrus and ice fans against your sweaty face, “But today… today you can repent [Name]. What we are doing may seem wicked and cruel, but I assure you. This is for the greater good. By your death the village will be saved and our Lord Luvarin will forgive you.”

“You will thank me for this. You will thank us all.” 

The head priestess rises from where she bent down, and then she lifts the blade and presses it back down on the area of your upper abdomen, the cold blade digs into your skin, and the blood starts to seep out. 

At first as the knife pierces your skin, the pain is equivalent to an ant bite, if the ant's mandibles were aflame. Then she drags it across his skin like she's making one long stroke with a paintbrush, and a guttural scream is wrenched from your throat but is muffled by the gag and drowned out by the people's cheers.

–

Luvarin felt suffocated within the large mass of people, mortals. Sweaty, ailment stricken mortals burning with rage and righteous fury. Despite how sickening this was, they had to be here. 

They meet your gaze that is resentful and full of fear at the same time, and despite the tension between you two their heart flutters and their face breaks into a lovesick smile. Though it quickly morphs into a frown when you turn away. 

People keep jostling them and the mortal woman with grey streaks in her blonde hair is speaking, but the only thing that Luvarin cares about right now is you. 

You who have the kindest eyes they've ever seen. You who held them in your arms when on the nights they'd visit and pretend to be cold. You who despite your past continued to respect the gods and adhere to the strict rules that came with being a priest. 

Then they remember Qhetohr's words. And Luvarin remembers your other side.

Your other side. The you who looked at the ring, their genuine feelings, and listened to their heartfelt confession, who they allowed to see their vulnerabilities. The you who chose to turn your back to them just like he did all those years ago. 

Luvarin's hands clenched into fists, and their immaculate nails dug into their divine skin. They can hear you laughing from the altar, and that is enough to fan the flames of anger higher. Their skin breaks and golden ichor drips to the earth. 

Eventually your laughter is cut short when you are gagged, and somehow that only infuriates them even further. Emotions they can't understand are brewing inside of them, and it reflects in how the earth responds to them; the sky darkens, and the sound of distant thunder approaches. 

Rain starts to pour from the sky, and they can hear some of the mortals around them start murmuring about how Luvarin must be watching them. Yes, they're watching alright.

Luvarin flinches when you look at them again, they hope you don't notice. Looking at your eyes again, the fear seems to have only increased, and the anger is slowly being replaced by… regret. They smirk, and slowly it turns into a grin. 

Their lips move quicker than their brain, “Yes. This is your fault. Regret it. Regret it and wish that you had just come to me instead.”

They can see that as the rain runs down your face, so do tears. Tears that despite whatever they may want right now, they feel the need to wipe away with gentle kisses.

No! They curse in their head, You can't be thinking this again. Remember what Qhetohr told you. 

You could give him the world and he still wouldn't choose you. 

Before Luvarin knows it, the woman with greying hair lifts her arms to the sky and exclaims, “Let the ritual begin!”

Despite Luvarin's superior senses already being overrun by the harsh sound of ecstatic cheers, they can still hear your pitiful whimpering, like you're a wounded animal. 

The woman is handed an Ofriedian dagger and then–

Thunder strikes the same time you scream. 

Luvarin can't look away. It's like cold hands are digging into the sides of their head and are forcing them to witness consequences of their action.

The Luvercalia ritual traditionally has them cutting open the stomach of a fattened sparrow, removing the organs, and then cleaning it with purified water and then filling it with herbs before wrapping it with a rope soaked in purified oil and tied to a stick before it is lit on fire. 

You kick and fight, tears streaming down your face, indistinguishable from the rain. The woman cuts your stomach open, stopping when the blade reaches the beginning of your loincloth. Blood starts to seep from the wound, the flow intensifying when two acolytes dig their hands in your wound, ignoring your thrashing, and pull the wound open wider. Luvarin feels as if their own stomach is being ripped open as they continue to watch this.

The woman's face is calm and serene, but her eyes have a satisfied gleam as she rolls up the sleeves of her pristine white robes. She reaches a hand in and starts to pull out your organs. The way she goes about can only be described as methodical. First she cuts out the liver, then the gallbladder. She's unbothered by the crimson that begins to stain her skin and bleed into her soul that no amount of prayers or bathing would remove. Hair falls in front of her face as she is pulling out the stomach and a priestess immediately steps in to tuck it behind her ears. 

Luvarin has seen no small amount of blood in their lifetime, before they were an adorable cherub, they were a war hero who walked a road soaked in gore and ichor but this… They… They can't bear the sight of your violent but ultimately futile attempts to break free that only grow weaker as the light begins… Oh gods. 

Luvarin shoves a hand over their mouth and pushes their way out of the crowd, ignoring the protests of those pulled out of the trance the ritual placed on them. 

They barely step foot out before their immortal body is no longer able to hold any of it in. 

As they heave, they try to grasp your heartbeat and stabilise it. You don't deserve this. They made a mistake, but they could still fix this. But just as they're trying to anchor you in the land of the living, something else, a deity or something of equal power, is dragging you to Demorta. 

No, they weren't going to let you leave them, you were going to stay with them and they were going to fight harder than before, and this time they won't accept any rejection you may have ready for them. 

However maybe it was the vomiting, or the opposing force was simply that powerful. Whatever it was, when they whip their head around as soon as they can no longer hear your already fading heartbeat, they use their enhanced eyesight and you– You've stopped moving. The blood is slowly pouring down the altar, moving slowly, oozing even. 

They are already cleaning the now hollowed out stomach of your body and reciting the blessings to purify the herbs. Rosemary. Basil. Sage. Lavender. Thyme.

Luvarin is still as they watch the woman, hands cleaned but forever dirtied with your innocence, place the herbs inside, and then sew up your chest before closing your eyes. 

She claps her hands, and they tie you to a large wooden pillar with the rope. They recognize the wood, they– they can see the little carving you etched into its surface when the two of you visited the grove. 

You smiled as you sheathed the dagger back on the strap in your leg, satisfied with your work.

The first letter of both of your names with a + sign in between the two of them. 

“Some of my finest work yet,” You chuckled, but the look in your eyes tells them it's more than just a joke. 

They brush their hand against the letters, and they smile. It's not perfect, but it's.. it's human. 

“Do you like it?”

“I… I love it.” 

The woman recites prayers before your body as an acolyte waves a golden thurible around your body, letting the smoke curl itself around your corpse and purifying the body these so called holy servants of theirs have sullied with their cruel, filthy hands. 

A man, the village chief, steps forward with a burning torch that struggles to remain lit against the rain that has only grown stronger. He turns to the woman, “Priestess, are you sure that this will work? The rain–”

“The fact that it is still lit is a sign Xander,” She nods toward the unlit pyre, “Please, get on with  it.” 

He nods, and lights the pyre. It is weak, sputtering, and despite the muttered prayers of the temple’s servants and the mortals watching, the flames die out. Killed by the rain. 

“Priestess…” The village chief starts, but the priestess raises a hand. 

“This is… It is an issue with [Name],” She looks to the sky, “Luvarin may not want anything to do with him anymore.” 

Those words cause something to snap inside of them, and as if in response lightning strikes the pyre. The priestess gasps, the village chief falls on his ass, and the people are struck with fear. However the lightning does not set the body aflame, instead the fire lights the earth and it spreads faster than the rain can extinguish it. It bites at the feet of the acolytes trying to put it out and burns them with all the strength of Luvarin's rage.

What happens next is a blur. 

Qhetohr's told them about this before. When your body becomes nothing more than an extension of your weapon and it's like you're not in control of it. 

Everything you do in this state is controlled by instinct alone. 

When they wake up, one of Luvarin's hands is caked in blood and bits of flesh are stuck beneath the nails. They are standing over that woman's corpse and her neck has been punctured with holes that could have only been made by their hand.

Her body is floating, half submerged, and they are knee deep in water. The rain has stopped, and they're no longer wearing their robes. They see that it's wrapped around the village chief's neck like a noose. The village in the distance has been ruined by the flood, and there are more bodies floating around them. 

The only thing unaffected? Your body. The grey clouds have parted and there's a beam of sunlight shining down on you. Your eyes are closed, your head is slumped, and your wet hair sticks to your face. 

You're still beautiful, even as your skin begins to grow pale with death. 

Luvarin sees the Ofriedian knife, they pick it up and sever the ropes. They catch your body when it falls, they drop the blade, and they wrap both arms around you. 

They inhale whatever remains of your scent that hasn't been washed away by the rain and the ointments. 

Luvarin frowns when they feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears stinging the corners of their eyes. They burrow their nose in the crook of your neck and mumble into your skin, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen.” Their voice is like a sputtering torch about to succumb to the harsh rain. 

If they strain their ears and focus on the wind, they swear they can hear you. 

They can hear your voice, but they don't know what you're saying. 

“I'm sorry,” Luvarin croaks once more, “I didn't want to hurt you. I never did. I just wanted you to notice me. Not Erasmus. Not Luvarin the Deity of Love. Just me.” 

“A- And I couldn't take it when you said no. I need you in my life [Name], and I still do. But I'm not so selfish tha- that I'd do something stupid. It was Qhetohr,” They can't stop their voice from quavering, “Qhetohr made me do this, s- so if you're gonna be mad at anybody just be mad at them okay?” 

Your silence is deafening but they press on, “I'll do anything,” They look up to the sky, as if begging for any of their siblings to help them. Dignity be damned, “I'll do anything.” 

But nobody answers. Not Qhetohr. Not their merciful brother. Not Uren. The only response is the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sound of rain dripping from nearby leaves. 

Yandere Love Deity who fixes your body. They place back your organs, mend your skin, and make everything normal again. Or as normal as it can be now that there's a gaping hole left in their existence.

Yandere Love Deity who keeps your body in a coffin they make from their own hands. You have made them countless gifts, but their favourites were always the adorable wood carvings that they can tell you poured more time and effort into than they would ever deserve. 

It is imperfect and made of mistakes, but it is sturdy, and it is genuine. Ularus volunteers to help, he insisted, but a flinty glance is enough to discourage him from continuing further. They need to do this. This is the least they can do for you after all you've done for them. 

Yandere Love Deity who is visited by their merciful brother the day that they lay your body to rest in the coffin. 

“He was always such a bold child.” 

“[Name]?”

“Oh, of course! He may not seem like it now, but well, you remember what I told you.”

“Who else would, if not us? We're the only ones who know now. We're the only ones who will ever remember him.”

“He loved you.” 

“He loved Erasmus.”

“Are you not also Erasmus?” 

“Dear brother, no. Erasmus is the mysterious charming mortal. I am Luvarin, to him I am nothing more than the master he hates– hated and would have never had to serve if he had the choice.” 

“He loved you Luvarin. He was simply confused. He can respect the gods but that does not mean he likes them, and well– to love the god he detests the most is not the easiest thing to come to terms with.” 

“What are you trying to say here?” 

“I'm saying that the two of you could have worked if there was simply time, time that you no longer have.”

“...” “My condolences to you, Luvarin. He was a good man.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 14

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 13, Part 15

Warning as usual. There is blood and gore in this chapter!

Staring up at the Archon parading around in human form, you lick your lips and note how even those minor injuries were healed. Your body aches with phantom pain, some wounds healed too rapidly. 

"I don't mind answering some questions, can I get your name first?"

A small smile plays at his lips as his hand is held out in front of you. "My name is Zhongli, I'm the Funeral Parlors consultant. It would be a pleasure to hear yours, outlander."

So he is aware of your origin, well at least partly aware. If he's not going to pull any punches then why should you? Besides if it all goes wrong, you can blame it on the bloodloss that you're still recovering from.

"I'm Y/N, and you're correct that I do not originate from this world. You must not be a normal person either, in fact you look identical to this statue. This one portrays Morax the Geo Archon, but I'm sure you know that, Rex Lapis."

Getting a good look at the statue from your proximity, it was obvious that Zhongli was Morax. You could make the excuse of it being game logic on why no one makes the connection, but that wouldn't work anymore. Maybe the statues are imbued with power that prevents anyone from this world to recognize the similarities?

"So it seems you are more knowledgeable than the traveler was when they arrived here. I should have known considering how the Electro and Geo particles surround you with zeal. Perhaps Teyvat is charmed by the features you share with the Holy One."

His step forward and angled head to look you in the eyes have you staring at glowing amber hues. The red eyeliner and outlined iris make it uncomfortably clear how intensely he's examining you.

"The curve of your lips, a stature so familiar, you resemble the creator so much. Teyvat must be bewitched and awed by an individual so alike as you. If only I could see your face in it's full visage, only then would I know for sure..."

Anyone would feel flattered or embarrassed with how seriously Zhongli studies you, but dread is the only thing you feel. You know that behind those honey-coated words is a trap just waiting for you to spring.

Too bad for him; the last thing you plan to be is predictable.

"My, my what a compliment! A devout and faithful follower like yourself is comparing me to the creator? You should pray for forgiveness to the merciful creator. I'm a servant for them, just in a different league than you. My connection with them is strong enough that Teyvat graces me with qualities alike yet inferior to the Everlasting One."

Zhongli returned to his perfect posture at your words, the flash of envy couldn't hide. "Oh?" Narrowed eyes and a lofty tone that encourages you to smile wider. "And what position could an outsider like you hold?"

"Well, as an Oracle of course! Really, just how dumb are you? An outlander that is incredibly knowledgeable of the Creator? It's painfully obvious." There's no reaction to your test insults, which is fine that wasn't the last you had in store.

"I'm from the world that the Creator is recuperating in. It's due to that, that I can speak to them much more freely than everyone here. Even Teyvat pales in comparison. That's why Teyvat is so attached to me, my aura is overwhelmed by the creators."

Honestly, you had Chongyun to thank for that one. You weren't sure how you were supposed to explain the whole Teyvat clinging to you without sounding repetitive. But if Zhongli was that easily fooled, he wouldn't be one of the victors of the Archon war.

"Then enlighten me on why the glorious creator would need an Oracle of your caliber to spread their word. Surely that's the least you can do." He's fully dropped that faux-polite tone in contrast to the technically proper speech. 

"Gladly! It's become common knowledge that the elemental monsters and animals have started to act strangely. Add in the leylines that change from out of control to perfectly calm in a matter of minutes or weeks. These are all signs of the Creator's upcoming appearance! They need to be sure of who in this vast land they can properly trust."

"That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen. A wily and fresh child like you wouldn't do the best job." Hard like stone, Zhongli refused to even blink at your words. A god like himself would never falter after thousands of years spent perfecting his worship. 

But did he really have to insult you at the same time?

"So you refuse to believe it because of my supposed inability to properly carry out any duties assigned to me? You don't even know all that I had done to arrive here! Surely you should know just how rough the waters were..."

The hand that covers your mouth does a poor job of covering the sly smile. Zhongli stares at you in silence, the wind swaying around the floating chunk of rock that you both stand on.

"Just what are you trying to imply?" His voice is as soft as a whisper but cutting like the sharpest steel.

"Why explain it when I can show it?" Silently rejoicing at such a convenient set up, you peer into your bag and grab the item you've been saving.

Shimmering brightly in the harsh glares of the sun is Beisht's scale, still in pristine condition despite your perilous journey since that day you got it from the sea-leviathan.

It feels like ages ago. Just how much time has passed since you arrived on Teyvat? How much more time will you spend in situations like this? Weeks? Months? YEARS?

The existential dread is quickly pushed away by your beaming smile at Zhongli's reaction to the singular item. The rocky exterior finally breaks at the proof of your 'abilities'. His lips part at the bright teal color and he blinks incredulously at it.

Really, how could you pass up the chance to rub it in?

"Surely a human of my caliber would be capable of this much. I mean, a perfectly intact scale from a leviathan that managed to avoid the whole Qixing that isn't dyed in blood? Child's play for a servant specifically chosen by the Creator. I never doubted the creators' choices!" 

Holding the scale in front of you, you smirk at the man with as much snark as you hold in your heart. "The same can't be said for you, Mr. 'That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen.' Because the Creator is capable of choosing anyone they want, for whatever reason they desire."

Silence envelopes the area as you stare at him, a beat passes with no movement until a gruff chuckle leaves him.

"The more you speak, the closer I come to a conclusion." Recovering quickly, Zhongli's gloved hand rises to tap his mouth contemplatively. "You're either something far worse than I've seen in a long time, or a hope for the Creator's return."

That white outline around his iris seems to spin with the malicious joy that he refuses to show. It's like his body screams that he'll either enjoy your presence or your destruction. Nerves and anxiety grip your heart but ignoring it has always worked better for you.

"Maybe I can say the same thing about you considering your past, but I see you still aren't convinced. And how could I ever let you, one of the longest standing worshippers, have doubts about me? So tell me, were Beisht and her husband devout or sacrilegious beings?"

The answer he'll say is obvious, not only because you hold such a confident stance showing that you know the answer but because of Zhongli himself. A noble dragon that willingly bows to someone would feel ashamed at the thought of resorting to lying to boost his own pride.

Quite ironic how you hold so much trust in his answer due to the acolytes' faith in the creator. The same faith that led you to this position, and the same thing that'll keep you from ever exposing the truth of your identity. A constant force preventing them from meeting their 'beloved' creator.

"You met Beisht in the flesh, there's no doubt that she is solemn and serious in her worship. The same can be said for Osial, it was one of the few things I could agree with the leviathan. Even still, I'm the superior believer. After all, I'm the one who is left after all this time." 

"Yet I met Beisht before you."

The scoff and know-it-all tone he used pricked at your nerves long enough to cause an annoyed response to slip out. Unfortunately, that seems to be what Zhongli was baiting for as he laughs, the low sound making the rock platform tremble.

"That's if you're even an Oracle. You may be from that world and even heard about Teyvat from the Creator, but for all I know, you could have been banished here for us acolytes to execute. Whether it be for avenging the Creator or entertaining them."

Damn, it was almost scary how fast he turned the situation around. But how could you falter now? Getting tongue-tied at such a crucial moment would be a pathetic way to lose your life.

"And what will you do if I truly am an Oracle? When the creator's return is delayed months, years or even decades due to your rash actions, what will you tell the creator when confronted with the consequences of your own actions?"

"Then you should work hard enough to prove to skeptics like myself. To put blind faith in whatever is dubbed the creator's is a fool's belief. Temptation and sin ravage Teyvat from the long drought of the Creator's presence."

For a split second, sorrow clouded his eyes. He's hiding something. It’s important and you can feel it in your soul. The only thing that really stains his and Venti's reputation is their war with Khaenri'ah. It must be connected to that. 

But it's too early to try digging in for information on that. He doesn't even believe you to be the Oracle, how could you possibly get that out of him? What if he's under a contract and must stay silent on the matter?

Lost in his memories, Zhongli doesn't realize how your face pinches in frustration. You'll have to get his approval as the Oracle before you can even- 

Oh.

Oh, why didn't you realize this before?

A grin spreads across your face as you circle in on the heart of the problem and the perfect way to fix it.

It's not that Zhongli doesn't believe you to be the creator's Oracle, he just doesn't want to believe it! He's envious: envious of why a random outlander like you got such a nice position in comparison to him who probably spent most of his life molding himself to the creators standards.

All that's left is to reel him in and you know the perfect way how.

"Prove myself? I've done plenty to prove myself, but what about you?" Mockingly, you tilt your head as your empty gaze peers into Zhongli's eyes, digging deep into him. He focuses back on the conversation at your shift in tone.

"If anyone should have to prove themselves, it should be you." This time it's you who takes the bold step forward. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? And try to keep in that temper too so that I can finish my words. A dragon your age should know such simple things."

"As Morax you were quite powerful, though a brute to be completely honest. Still, you knew your limits well and paired up with the Lord of Dust before the Archon War, who served as the 'brain'. Tell me, just how did it feel when you found her as nothing more than a statue that day?"

Your words have a strong effect on the imposing man, his fist trembling at the mention of such a beloved god, one whose death still pains him. Paying no mind to his pain you ask the monumental question.

"Just how much resentment do you hold against the Creator for her death?"

A hand slams you against the Statue hard enough to bruise your skin. It doesn't squeeze around your throat but there's no need to as the Geo begins to petrify your legs, locking you in place. The Statue is in a constant state of healing in defense to the bruises on your neck.

"Just what are you trying to imply by saying that?" Cold and apathetic is the voice that flows from the stoic man. It's what you would imagine Morax would sound like before Guizhong taught him how to care for humans.

"C'mon, that's the second time you've asked me that. Don't make me speak the obvious-" A shuddering gasp leaves you as he tightens his grip. But it's gone just as fast; a flock of birds tackle Zhongli.

You can only watch in shock as what was only 4 to 5 birds grow to become at least 15 birds of all kinds attacking him. The throbbing of your neck being healed as the Geo instantly releases you is overshadowed by Zhongli swatting at the birds as he takes continuous steps back.

But that's all it took for Zhongli to fall off the edge as the birds flew away cawing happily. Standing and staring at the spot where Zhongli fell off in shock, you begin to chuckle. It grows to a giggle before you're laughing hysterically as you buckle to the ground. Loud peels of laughter ring around the area as you hold your stomach from the ache of laughing so much.

To think Teyvat took the initiative to help you out for once. Why couldn't it do it sooner? Was it only after gaining some power from activating a new nations statue of the seven that it could? You couldn't focus on the question anymore as the look on Zhongli's face when he fell came to mind again.

The sight of his eyes blown wide and a split second of pure panic sent you straight back into a fit of laughter. The ground far below you shakes as a Geo pillar constructs a bridge high enough to reach the stone you sat on. 

The sound of footsteps make you open your eyes and giggle at the sight of a disheveled and annoyed Zhongli. Annoyed is still an improvement compared to his enraged state earlier. With giggles slipping out, you stand back up and laugh louder at his appearance in full view.

His hair was pulled out of his rattail with his earrings nowhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of the weaker cloth of his suit were missing, giving him a poor look that didn't match his flawless posture. The red marks and light cuts only added to the joy you feel at his expense.

"Are you finished laughing, Y/N?"

"For now at least. I would suggest buying a new set of clothes but I don't think you have the mora for it!" Zhongli only lets out a long-suffering sigh as you crack up again.

You would be scolding yourself for not taking the chance to escape while he was away but it was better this way. You didn't need the information about Khaenri'ah, it was nice to know but the information wouldn't help you live.

The main reason you stayed was because running away would prove Zhongli right to be suspicious about you. It would let him know that you're scared and have something to hide. Plus, that would mean having to escape Liyue the same way you did Ei, just in a worse situation.

That's not something you want to repeat.

"Alright I'm done laughing." You say while wiping off the budding tears from the corner of your eyes. Zhongli sends you a look that screams that he doesn't believe you but you shrug it off.

"Really, that question was more of a test if you will. My main job is simply to see who the Creator can trust. Your relationship with the Creator beyond that is between you and them." 

The calm and peaceful tone you use is such a contrast to the one you used earlier that Zhongli is clearly apprehensive. Paying it no mind you continue to speak. 

"If you truly want a reason to at least try and believe me to be the oracle even if you don't fully believe me, then I'll give you one. I'm sure you still have the stone dumbbell from Guizhong that you've never been able to open. I know how to open it."

Those last words have Zhongli staring at you intensely as you gaze off into the distance. The Dragon-Queller tree is visible through the fog with its glowing blue branches and yellow leaves.

"How?" He breathes out, scared to trust but scared to lose this opportunity too.

"It requires a naturally grown glaze lily cultivated by the Creator. That's because it requires a 'pure' glaze lily and the only one who can grow such a thing at this day and age is the Creator. All the natural glaze lilies have died after all."

Zhongli's shoulders slump at your words. It seems he started to let his guard down after he fell off. He must no longer view you as a threat or, at most, an annoyance. That's okay with you, underestimation is the most useful viewpoint they could have for you.

"Should I even make an attempt to ask you why it can only be unlocked with that? You're only telling me this as a last resort to keep you alive, correct? Even if I told you that I would keep you alive without that information, you wouldn't believe me. As childish as you may be, foolishness does not seem to be a quality you hold."

"That may be true, but if you really want an answer to that first question then I'll tell you." You look over to lock eyes with him and smile. It conceals every sneaky and vicious thought you hold. "I have no clue. The Creator instructed me to use it as a last resort, if you want that answer then try praying. Perhaps you'll get an answer."

You would like to know the answer to the stone dumbbell too. After all, you only made up the solution! Seeing as Zhongli spent all these years after Guizhong's death, failing to unlock it, it's a good bet that it'll never open. 

It's silent as you both get lost in your own thoughts. Unlike before it wasn't tense, it was more comparable to the silence you would spend alone in your apartment. The nights you would only be accompanied by the thoughts of the 'what-if' situations. Thoughts that would only stay thoughts just as the past would be just that, the past.

Wanderer learned that the hard way too. You wouldn't let yourself hold so many regrets before your inevitable death. Even in Liyue you weren't truly safe, so wouldn't it be best to speak to Zhongli while you still could?

"I have questions about Khaenri'ah… Well, the better way to put it is that the Creator has questions about them. It's one of the few things that they mourn the most. A whole nation devoted to worshiping solely the creator, destroyed by the Archons that swore their life and loyalty to the creator. So will you explain it to me?"

His eyes fill with the same sorrow you saw in him earlier. It seems you were right in guessing that his line on blindly trusting things labeled with the creator was connected to Khaenri'ah.

"I have spent all my years after that day asking for forgiveness, for some way to atone. It was one of the few contracts that I did not properly balance in equivalent exchange. I regret signing it, not for myself but for my beloved God."

"So it's a no."

"It's an agreement not to speak of it."

"Then don't speak about it." Zhongli seeds you a questioning glance as you mischievously smile at him. "Just listen to my words and don't look away. I'm quite sure nodding and shaking your head doesn't count as breaking your silence."

A huff of amusement leaves him at your solution. His eyes close with his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head in acceptance, not having the drive to poke holes into your stubbornness.

You were quite confident in the conclusions you've drawn so far. Genshin Impact was nearly the sole reason you were living back on Earth. Family and friends were nonexistent, you had given up hope on making any new connections as well. The only thing you did when you weren't home was work and your work made you be everything but yourself. So combining everything you know from the game with everything of the cult that you've learned thus far shouldn't be too hard.

"When the Archon War broke out, I'm sure most of you were merely looking to keep your people and nation alive. The original design of having the gods powered solely on their people's worship paled in comparison to Celestia's offer of power by obtaining a spot in a group of seven. At the end, you all had a choice. Accept your spot by accepting a Gnosis, or go against them similar to how the Dragon King once did."

Zhongli perks up at the mention of the Dragon King. Not many people know about the original Dragon King. Most people assume it's Azhdaha when in reality, the original was a far greater dragon.

"You all must have been quite against it. The only God you would all bow under would be the Creator who had left before those events to sleep in my world, yet Celestia probably whispered to you all that it was allowed on Teyvat because it was approved by the Creator. That the Gnosis was a reward for all your hard work and as Celestia was the first descender, all of you accepted it.”

The way he begins to stare at you is invasive, like he's just dying to jump you to get every bit of knowledge you hold on the topic. He's starting to suspect you.

"Yet when Khaenri'ah was revealed to exist years afterwards, everything was thrown into confusion. I'm sure you and the other Archons were fine with their presence as Khaenri'ah worshiped the Creator, but was Celestia?" 

A sly smile creeps upon your face at the memory of when it was revealed that Khaenri'ah  wasn't the first civilization to be turned into hilichurls. No one liked Celestia so you had no problem pinning almost all the blame onto it.

"I'm sure they were enraged, especially as Khaenri'ah grew more and more bold with their inventions. Gold in particular was quite dangerous seeing as she not only created life but also Durin and the Golden Wolflord. And even that was unintentional!"

You laugh cheerfully as Zhongli chuckles in surprise at your words. Had you successfully deterred him? Probably not, but he hasn't stopped you so you'll keep going till the end.

"Celestia ordered you all to aid them in destroying Khaenri'ah but you all refused. How could any of you harm a nation so devoted to the creator even if they refused to worship Celestia or the Seven? But that Gnosis you all accepted comes with a price. A price that serves as leverage and a control device."

The thoughts of what Beisht told you on how Celestia had caused them to forget the original way of worship resurfaced. Celestia was just too suspicious for that to be the only thing they had done. It would take a lot more than that to force the Archons to listen to them.

"That Gnosis was like a drug. It gave you all so much power, tasting and making you feel like you're on top of the world! Just for it to come crashing down when the unpleasant side effects hit you. It corrupted you all like poison forcing you to wage war against Khaenri'ah. My best bet is that it was like mind control. What do you say?"

He looks at you with a blank expression, as if trying to see the secrets you hid in your soul through your eyes. But there's no response from him, not even the occasional nods that he was giving before.

"Well if it was mind control, perhaps it made you believe that Khaenri'ah had plans to overrule the Creator and create their own human god. Or maybe it made them out to be traitors to the creator. Perhaps both? That doesn't really matter, what does matter is that only after the war was in full throttle were you all brought back to your senses."

You didn't have any proof of that last part, it just seemed like something Celestia would do. Not only to prove their superiority but also force the Archons to put their best effort in defeating the people of Khaenri'ah to save their nations.

"After the war ended, you all wanted to get rid of it but Celestia wouldn't allow such a thing. Even if you most likely tried to find some loophole, Celestia doesn't play nice. It would make sense if they threatened to give a punishment similar to what they had done to Khaenri'ah. So long as none of you destroy or throw it away, they'll leave you all be,”

Venti was a god, no matter what fans said, there was no way he would lose to Signora. It made more sense if that was his way of 'handing' it over to the Tsaritsa. There was also Nahida who threatened to break her Gnosis to one-up Dottore. That was always funny, you would kill to have witnessed that in person. 

"Of course none of you would actually use it or even desire it in your vicinity. Everyone wins when the Tsaritsa uses her various methods to acquire the gnosis'. And thanks to the traveler appearing during that time, Celestia was probably too busy freaking out over that to pay too much attention. For a while at least."

Finally looking back to Zhongli, you smiled proudly. "I must be pretty close right? At no point did you laugh at me like you did with Alice so I'll take that as a good sign. And even if I'm wrong, everything will be solved when the Creator descends."

Stretching to loosen the tension in your back, you applaud yourself for the brilliant thinking. It's not like anyone can actually fake gold blood for long when even hair dye didn't exist yet. You're basically leaving all these loose ends to the you that would be believed to be the Creator. Which is never going to happen!

"Would the Creator scorn me for asking you once again if you're truly an oracle?"

"I'm sure the glorious creator would be fully justified in doing so, but I'll scorn you in their stead.. And don't get it twisted, it's not because of your feelings concerning Guizhong's death. It's how you, by your own negligence, offended the Creator!"

An utterly baffled expression paints his face at your accusation. Unrelenting, you point your finger at him with a serious face that you haven't shown him till now.

"Did you really believe that the creator wouldn't realize? Just how little you changed from that brute of a dragon that saw humans as plentiful yet insignificant as dust? To think that you believed yourself to be comparable to the primordial dragons."

Zhongli stiffens at the mention of the primordial dragons. After all he is the prime of the Adepti who's exuvia is a dragon, not a primordial dragon. Wouldn't it be fun if he held some sense of inferiority when compared to the primordial ones?

Zhongli sits on the ledge of the rock with his elbows on his legs and his hands covering his face. It was time. He would question just what you were talking about and you'll explain the elemental sacrificing that he forgot. That'll be the end and he'll have no choice but to support you! 

Smiling knowingly you approach him and lean down to see behind the shadow casting over his eyes. Your eyes twinkle victoriously as his breath leaves a cloud from the crisp air.

"I should have known that the creator would not forgive me for failing to arrive on time."

What? 

"How could I have been beaten to that shooting star by that astrologist? No matter who may have been her master, I failed to arrive on time."

Zhongli sulks there as he continues rambling to himself on 'missing' the shooting star due to his old age. Was he seriously talking about how you lost him the first time to Mona?!

Memories come back of you using the last of your wishes on his banner and being greeted with Mona instead. The first 50/50 you lost and was forced to use nearly all your primogems to get him. A fact that you never let Zhongli forget through your adventures.

Just what would he do if he knew how you always switched to a different character whenever his idle starts to play? Would he sew his lips together in repentance? That must be the difference between a true believer and a fake believer...

Holding back a sigh you begin brainstorming on how you were supposed to bring the conversation back to the sacrificing. Zhongli is too lost in his own head as he begins to continuously blame himself for any mistake he could have made.

"Being unable to answer the travelers' questions must have worsened their view on me too."

"That and how you were willing to let Liyue flood if they couldn't defeat Osial."

"Human life may be precious but they're as numerous as the dust that make up stone. I would rebuild Liyue for the rest of this long life until I cultivate a nation that I could humbly present the creator with."

"Then shouldn't the creator just grind you down and raise a different Adepti to their exact liking? You should work hard to be exactly what they desire to be truly loved."

"Are you saying that the Creator loathes me?" He finally looks away from the sea of clouds to stare at you. Sparing him a glance, you listen to him grow more panicked by your silence.

"Do they wish to see me crumble and be reabsorbed into the earth for my mistakes, for my sins? Was it the way I mechanically went through the motions of worship for the few years after Guizhong's death? Or does my benevolent god crave me and my nation to fall for aiding in the destruction of Kh-?"

Abruptly Zhongli grasps at his chest where his heart lays as he coughs. More out of politeness than concern you rub his back as fluid flies from his lips to his closed fist.

The thick inky plum colored fluid stained his fist with droplets of crimson swirling within it. His coughing fit slows to a halt as his hand slowly releases the clothing over his heart. Harsh breathing and a shallow pained groan is all that can be heard as he cleans himself up.

“Pardon me-” 

“Was that a warning from Celestia or a side effect if you get too close to speaking?"

"The implication is the same no matter what it may be from." He whispers as you begin to move back to return his personal space. Yet his now ungloved hand is what wraps around your grass stained sleeve.

"Now answer my question." Determination and a barely concealed unruly emotion simmer beneath his composed surface as he asks. "As an oracle, tell me what I have to do to earn their forgiveness. What must I reap to begin repenting for the sins I sowed?" 

Eyes widening at the sight of the disheveled man, you stare at him quietly. The messy hair, cut up clothing and grip tight enough to keep you still all while being careful not to bruise.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Is that a question for me to answer? Am I the god that you wronged? If you wish to communicate with the creator yourself, then there is a way. A method to begin regaining the pebbles that make up the mountain of trust you once shared with them."

You grab the arm that connects to his hand wrapped around your own and pull him up. He obeys the silent command and stands up, his gaze never faltering from your form. Silent and towering like the mountains he's created, he simply listens.

"Celestia has hidden more from you than you originally thought. But I'm sure you already know that. Offer yourself to the merciful creator and they'll surely hear your pleas of forgiveness. Whether they forgive you or not is up to them."

Releasing your hold on him, you turn to survey the area. Now where could you have him perform the sacrifice? His free hand comes to rest on your shoulder for your attention.

"What must I offer of myself? My blood? My body? If need be, I'll even be willing to offer my life. My life is worthless without them. I'm nothing more than a grain of mineral if not for them."

"There's so many things you can offer, but if you want to make the most impact, then you'll offer up your body parts. Your life may be precious but just how much longer do you have left?"

"Then will the private temple I have built for them work? We can head there immediately." He points south to the sole unnamed mountain in Minlin. You vividly remember unlocking the teleport waypoint there.

"The only way I'll know is when I see the interior. I'll meet you there Zhongli!"

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you close your eyes and calmly imagine what the scenery around the waypoint looks like. The rocky feel of the floating stone changes to a lush green beneath your feet. Opening your eyes you're greeted with a valley of viridescent brustles with degraded stone ruins at the edges. 

"To think that the Creator even allowed you access to the waypoints. They must treasure you greatly." He appears at your side in a matter of minutes. His tone has a hint of longing and bitterness.

It's sweet like the flavor of a childhood candy that you would sneak behind your parents backs. Almost sweet enough to make up for the starvation you would face later on as punishment.

"Instead of focusing on that, why don't you show me that private temple you created? As the Geo Archon, I hold high expectations for you."

"This temple is the one I created for me. If you want the glamorous shrine built for the mass and appearance then you're better off viewing the public one that the Qixing now control."

He walks down the hill until the grass is tall enough to cover his calves. You follow behind him and stare blankly at the plain that is covered with a healthy amount of tall marigolds. Just as you're about to repeat the question, the earth begins to rumble.

It starts with just one stone rising from the ground, until it multiplies into a roof like structure. You watch in awe as a temple surges out of the mountain with the slightest bits of dirt falling off it.

Stone of high quality and clearly careful upkeep shines with small cracks from the passage of time. Gold, silver, and bronze layer the nooks and crannies of the pillars that keep a roof over the doorway.

Marveling at it, you follow Zhongli into the temple... He couldn't kill you in it, right? Surely you could still teleport even if he locked you in it… Teleporting without using the map might not work due to the focus and effort it required, but doing it with the map has never failed you yet.

The inside was even more impressive; statues of all kinds surrounded the hallway. It was you, always you, just in different poses, clothing and materials. From thin robes crafted entirely from Cor Lapis, to suits made of Noctilucous Jade.

Arriving at what seemed to be the main room, you're greeted with a huge statue comparable to the public one in Inazuma's plaza. Sunlight bathed your statue from the skylight above it.

Your body was made of Cor Lapis decorated in an Archon-like robe made from Noctilucous Jade. A fresh Glaze Lily sat in your palm as Silk Flowers adorned your head in a crown like structure. You sat on a blue stone throne that seemed to grow brighter as you approached it. The sleek yet dense mineral looked like the magical crystal chunks you would give to the blacksmiths. 

"Be careful to not venture too close to that one, the elemental energy may leave it to join you." Zhongli warns as he steps into the middle of the room. Smiling casually to hide your amazement, you head back to him.

"What an impressive statue, the Creator is feeling quite pleased with the display but still wishes to see your true remorse." Digging into your bag, you brought out the ceremonial knife and the handbook you took notes on.

"Go get the softest cloth and lay it on the ground. This ritual is simple, you'll cut off whatever part of your body you wish to offer, pray, and wait for a response. If 10 to 20 minutes pass with no response, then you can leave it at that or offer more in hopes of a response."

Closing the book and shoving it back into your bag you offer the knife to Zhongli. He looks up from where he laid the gilded gold fabric to stare at the knife before letting out a drawl laugh.

"That knife will do little to my scales, Y/N. A ceremonial item is to be bathed in liquid gold to be used so I have more than enough weapons that can actually cut my skin."

Scoffing, you stuff the knife back in as he leaves and returns with a variety of weapons. The largest was an ax that smelled faintly of blood. Was it used to sacrifice someone not too long ago? The thought makes you uncomfortable, yet you're no longer alarmed at the thought.

My, have you changed.

You move to stand away from the center closer to the exit. Zhongli's bare hand turns to a pattern of black and amber hues. Shedding his thick coat, his flexed muscles in draconic form are left in full view.

If you were back on Earth, you would have killed to view this. An Archon’s skin was something the majority of the players wished for, for quite a while. Even now, you would love to see his true Archon form, but the thought of actually living was far more tantalizing.

Rolling up his sleeves, he chooses a sword and examines it carefully. Without fear he raises it high and slices downwards cutting his hand off cleanly. The ruby liquid sprays onto the floor as the droplets drip off his sword and dismembered limb simultaneously.

It doesn't matter how many times you witness or smell blood, it still disgusts you. The only blood you truly cherished in shedding was the one that left that man's body when you stabbed him in that cold alleyway.

His hand lands onto the expensive textile with a wet thud as the ivory bone sticks out. Zhongli lays the sword down gently resisting the urge to groan in pain. Gritting his teeth he returned his attention and gaze back to you. You, who stayed in perfect position ahead of him, clad in gems and minerals carved by his own hand.

Closing his eyes, his lips followed the adored pass time of praying with intensity. Too lost in his regret, joy, and infatuation his words slipped out clear like the perfectly carved jewels he’s crafted for you.

"My god, my god. For I have sinned against you so. The mistakes I cannot fix or change, I pray for your forgiveness." Your unmoving, unchangeable eyes stared at him with an expression so familiar to him, one who worshiped you in this temple for centuries.

"From allowing myself to be tricked, to the lack of devotion I felt to you in Guizhong's death and finally with how I treated a servant of yours with disdain. Envious, I am envious to an extent that I shouldn't hold to my righteous god like you. Even now I still haven't broken the habit of referring to you as 'my' god."

Once again, just like the first time, Teyvat seems to overwhelm you with his feelings. You stare at his back as his lips murmur the words of devotion without an end in sight. Silently, you accept his offering, this first one was only to put the last nail in the coffin of you being an oracle. 

The sky darkens as Zhongli's hand crumbles into a pile of primogems that dissolve into the air. Blue and purple stars dance across the sky as a lone gold star makes its way closer. 

You didn't plan to always accept his offerings. After all you did lose a 50/50 to him and was forced to put up with his paranoid possessiveness in regards to your creator self. Shouldn't you make him lose a few times to even the score?

The gold star shines brighter and bigger as Zhongli gazes at it with a smile purer than anything he's ever felt since his creation at your hands. It flies through the window enveloping him and the whole room with a beaming light.

--------------

When his eyes open, the skylight shows the sunny sky but he can already feel his connection to you stronger. The brilliance you bore shines beautifully in him like a star he wished to keep hidden for only him to see.

It worked, it worked! There is no need for him to be wary or envious of you for claiming to be so close to the creator anymore. In fact, you were a sign specifically designed for someone like him. A sign that the creator had not grown complacent in simply watching Teyvat, you were now showing interest in coming back soon. And through you, he can find out details about the creator that were kept secret all these millennia.

A wide and joyful grin is bared with obsession tangling within it. He turns his head to where you stood and his smile drops abruptly when all he's greeted with is an empty spot. 

He built this temple for him and the creator to enjoy in privacy due to his possessive nature born from his dragon lineage, yet the sight of Y/N who up and vanished after fulfilling their duty struck his core like the abyssal gunk that used to constantly corrupt his body.

You may have left, you may think that he wouldn't treat you, a fellow devoted servant well due to his earlier behavior. And he understands that, he truly does but that simply means he has to rectify his mistake before it's too late. You were a mere human while him, a god. 

Finding you before any terrible consequences from his mistakes won't take too long.

-------------------

Unaware of the dragon's changing tune, you eye the Dragon-Queller tree from outside the temple with interest. After all the work you've done thus far, indulging yourself with a nice close up of the magnificent landmark would be a good treat for yourself.

This one took a while and it was edited by the same jerk. I really hope all the work was worth it and that the next part can be done faster. But as my college is starting this early Sep, it might be even longer. Genshin's lore is a hot mess so I tried my best to keep it simple while touching on the important parts. All the lore I put in is almost completely accurate. If you don't include the sagau parts. If your name is italic then that means I couldn't tag you. I manually put everyone so hopefully this fixes the notifications problems. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0

[fluffymarshmalllows]

In every universe, I'll look for you

fanfic about Reader getting sucked in the portal first, Ford follows.

Another restless night for you and your husband in the basement. Coffee staining the journals as he scribbles more blurbs about this “Bill” person he keeps calling his muse. You didn’t want to feel jealous but ever since that absurdly long late night walk Ford took months ago, he’s been nose deep into every physics book and theoretical researches to prove something, anything. Every time you beg him to rest, he refuses making you a bit annoyed, blame it on the sleep deprivation and lack of quality time.

“Please, Fordsy, you really need some rest. We’ve been working on this project for weeks now” you muttered, half-asleep at this point. But words fell on deaf ears as your husband just waved you off with some empty promises of he’ll be with you to bed soon.

Too tired to argue, you kissed him on the cheek which caused his face to get dusted pink for a bit, but still very much focused on his calculations. A sight you will never get tired of. You also waved to Fiddleford who was roped in this whole project bidding farewell.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” he says without looking up as you climb the squeaky staircase. You reminded them both to get some rest while internally praying to whoever God that will listen that you get your doting husband back sooner than later.

Not even hours later, loud metal clashes and bangs from the basement jerked you awake. You shot up and dashed straight to Ford worried that something might’ve happened. Did he get injured? A part fell on him? Was he trashing the place? Shaking your head ridding of those thoughts. Running towards the basement fueled with adrenaline and a power nap is not ideal but the situation called for it.

You got there as quick as you can and witnessed a rather vulgar argument between your husband and Fiddleford leading to the latter walking out and bumping your shoulder muttering unpleasant words towards Ford.

Peering out from the basement stairs, on the other side of their makeshift divider was a big glowing construction whirring with power. “Oh my god” those were the only things that you could mutter in that moment. The machine was… working. It was finally working. After months of sleepless nights, exhausted arguing, they finally made it work giving you hope that things will soon get back to normal, or as much as it used to be.

Ford felt your presence and looked at you like a mad-man, eyes crazed with no sign of sanity. It made you question if the man standing ahead of you was really the guy you married. “It finally worked! The math finally made sense. Do you understand, Y/N?! This is our key to figuring out all these anomalies.” You took a step back your back against the door while he tries to coax you in joining him. “No, Ford, this doesn’t look safe”.

Ford turned his back to you, staring at his creation. “Fiddleford said the same thing” he mused, “but please, beloved, I won’t let you be in any danger”. His reassuring voice was enough to put you in some ease as you walked to him extending his hand.

He held you by your waist supporting your trenbling body, guiding you to admire their creation. Observing some sparks of electricty dancing across the ground and bouncing off the walls. Ford was explaining to you how it works, how he plans to use it, what they should do next and all that but one look at your alarmed face gave him all the hint he needed to keep quiet and let you process all this.

He was so enamored by this portal he built, you both did not realize the glass dividing the area was slowly cracking. Only took some more volts of current to run by it to shatter and allow the portal to suck you in.

It happened so fast. Ford tried grabbing you but the force was too much, pulling you in within seconds. You managed to maneuver yourself to grab on the portals frame. Using all your strength pulling your body out to ask for help one last time before you were completely lost somewhere some time in space.

“Ford, help me!” The last words his lover spoke before getting lost in the oblivion haunts him in his every waking hour. He tried consulting Bill about this, how to get you back, but Bill was adamant about the situation, believing that Y/N was just a hurdle to their masterplan. He spent too many lonely nights missing you and regretting what he has done, it was driving him imsane. This lead to him calling quits with Bill which ultimately made the polygon mad.

Alas, he struck the courage to contact his twin after years. This was not an easy decision for him but to set up his grand scheme of finding you in the vast universe, he had to have his brother fit the missing link.

Ford explained everything to Stan, or as much as his twin needed to know but things did not go exactly as planned. He was planning to portal jump, sure, but not get sucked into it accidentally. He found it somewhat humorous that he ended up the same way his lover left, through the portal—asking for help.

Journal log no. 176? 177. Two years, 18 dimensions, 3 timelines. I saw them again. Different hairstyle but with that same aloof smile. Happy in this dimension with me, alternate universe me. I still live to regret that day. It also appears that she is also being tracked by the space-time continueom agencies (noted from the encounter at the do-over dimension). Just what in the world did my Y/N get to?…

Journal log no. 320+. It has been almost 10 home years if I calculated it correctly. Still no sign of my Y/N in this timeline. From the dwellers of this dimension, it appears that the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Squadron has laid low on the investigation of their whereabouts. It has become harder tracking them down, maybe they learned new tricks. Best to take a note of this…

Journal log __ . I have lost track of days in this dimension. Some part of this dimension are mirrors that behaves like looking glasses. Upon my first arrival, a mirror reflected Y/N staring back at me. As I am writing this, I am still formulating probable hypothesis that could explain their reflection on mine. Seeing them again after so long makes me yearn for them more. If only I h

A zipping sound ripped from a distance away from Ford as he's trying to journal his discoveries.

“Time to go” quickly packing all his materials shoving it in his makeshift bag careful not to drop any while going on another leap. He looked back at those men? Aliens? Whoever those guys are they are pretty hot on his trail. Getting too close for his own comfort. And too many close calls with them than Ford will admit.

“Get him!” The smallest tentacle humanoid man commanded or something similar of the sort, it’s another universe language he has yet to decode. Learning the tongues became much more difficult since he accidentally stumbled on a rebellion matched with a bounty picture of your face displayed in every available surface they can stick it on to. Knowing you, whatever you did there most likely called for it or he hopes so, anyway.

Muttering some curses he took his grand leap and entered another dimension. Not once did he look back.

This time it looked like another parallel timeline of his home universe. Ford walked around pin pointing important anomalies, most of them minor like an extra toe on a cat or a bird with butterfly wings. He slumped down under a tree near the opening of the forest to draw these creatures. Pulling out his journal, he realized something in this dimension feels right, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belong. Another minor anomaly in a dimension filled with other anomalies. It made him feel normal, but not complete. Ford sniffled his tears back overwhelmed by the feeling of missing you. He never stopped looking for you. Eyes scanning every place hoping to see you again, waiting for him, happy with him.

Coast is clear and the sun was slowly setting. It lulled Ford to take a nap. Closing his eyes trying to remember what you look like. It’s been years since he last saw you. In every universe and timeline you were in, they did not look like you, his Y/N. Something was always off, but one thing remained constant— you were always happy together with him. Ford chuckled bitterly. Only in the universe he lived in was he alone. It was unfair, but he did this to himself. He regrets all the time he spent with Bill than his own spouse. His only lover, to think that fame and knowledge blinded him to put you in danger.

A soft thud was heard from the tree he was resting on, followed by a feeling of being watched made chills ran down his spine. Ford became hyper-aware looking, searching, for anything. Standing up quickly, he was ready to dash for it but for unknown reason he stood his ground. His feet felt glued to the ground, waiting for whatever it was to emerge from the trees’ shadows. The now dark forest was eerie and he could not risk getting hurt in another dimension. A pitter patter of steps from the forest heading his way made him draw his gun aiming at the darkness. His fingers at the trigger, steady.

“Fordsy?”

His breath hitched. Hands trembled. A figured appeared out of the dense forest. Face to face with the gun he was ready to fire. His heartbeat was so loud it was almost all he can hear. Seeing you, still perfect after so many years. With gray hairs and past your prime, yet you still had the same effect on him. Decades or more has passed but the feelings remained the same.

Both of you did not dare to take a step. You feared that this is all in your head, a fragment of your imagination that you did not want to go away. The air was still, and the silence deafening. You can’t take it much longer and you run up to him. Ford took you in with open arms.

He hugged you tight, not willing to let go. Never again will he let you go. All those years of longing and you’re finally back in his arms. He stared at your eyes, filled with the love and adoration like the days you were married and living with each other. You took a step back and slapped him. Hard.

“How dare you!” You angrily muttered to him. Voice tight but not so loud to disturb the silence. “This?! This is what you were trying to make?” Shoving a pointed finger to his shoulder blade. Ford was hurt, but he knew he deserved that anger. “We were always together! In every dimension I went to, even in our past, did you know how much it hurt seeing us together? Knowing that every version of me is happy and loved while I am trying to go back home to a husband who’s cheating on me with a guy!” Y/N rambled exasperated. Your cheeks felt wet, not realizing the tears already started falling. All those years of resentment and anger to your husband resurfaced. “And you know what the worst part is?” You sniffled trying to sound brave “I still love you! And at times I feel like a fool for doing so.”

Ford was confused with what to feel to say the least. He felt sad you had to endure being lonely, longer than he had been. Joy? That you still love him despite his wrong doings. Humour as he realized that you thought Bill as a mistress. That made him crack a small smile which you noticed. You turned around calling him a jerk while wiping your tears muttering cusses.

“Dearest” he tried calling out to you. “You know you’re the only one I love right?” He cooed, still not getting over the fact that he had someone else. He reached out to you gently, wrapping his arms around you. His chest at your back as you felt his breathing on your neck. “Y/N, please face me, it’s been so long since I’ve seen your beauty.” Ford purred. What else can you do but look at him again, you reached your hand to the cheek you hit and soothed it for a bit. “I’m sorry for hitting you” you muttered looking at his eyes. “It was deserved” he replied sheepishly avoiding your gaze. The tension was as thick as the dense forest behind you and you can’t take it anymore.

You pulled him down by grabbing the collar of his coat to give him a kiss. A bit stunned Ford was but he warmed up to it. Breathing a sigh of relief, finally in the arms of his Y/N, with no plans of letting her go.

They trudged into the woods, conversing on what they witnessed and all the universe they jumped, comparing notes and journals. You proudly showed him yours as you stated “I was just copying you but it became a scrapbook of some sort”. Inside were trinkets from dimensions folded into the paper with drawings and detailed descriptions of things you saw. Ford was more of interested with the folded wanted poster between those pages. He took it out and observed it closely. “Yeah, I became part of their council for a while,” you said which earned a questioning eyebrow raise from your husband. You raised your hands in protest “Well, I didn’t know that fruits were their money! I was hungry”. This made him laugh and it sounded like music to your ears. Mr. All seriousness laughing with you again, everything felt perfect.

Until the familiar space ripping nearby brought you both back to reality. Whipping your heads towards that sound, Ford exclaimed “I’m getting too old for this”. Grabbing your hand he lead you the forest clearing and pulled out his dimension jumper and you followed suit.

“We are now easily trackable since we are together so we need to be extra cautious” Ford explained as you both explore the city-esque universe you landed in. “Do you think we’d ever go back home?” You asked, stopping in your tracks. Ford turned to you “I trust Stan. It might take a while to be honest.” You nodded in respond, still not giving yourself false hope. “But I’m with you Y/N, and anywhere is better when you’re by my side.” His voice was so sincere you can’t help but believe him. You held him interlocking your digits together. His six fingers perfectly hugging your hand as you both jumped into another dimension unprepared but together.

word count: 2.5k words

woop woop first published fic! should i make a part 2?

[adviceformefromme]

💖 NUTRITION & WELLBEING EDITION - 10 WEEKS UNTIL 2025 - GLOW UP SERIES [WEEK 10] - 💖

So we’re 10 weeks till 2025, the new year is fast approaching, your energy levels are in the gutter and despite mentally wanting to change your life there’s just something keeping you stuck. You wake up and it’s the same story different day, tired, hungry, moody as hell.

While you might mentally want to change your life, your body needs to be on board and to do that it’s gona need the right foods, drinks and nutrients to have you functioning at your optimal level. Taking drastic action when it comes to changing your diet is how you’re going to see drastic results in your energy levels, productivity and overall wellbeing… 

The foundations: 

🛌 SLEEP: All those late night movies before bed, Netflix and chill, love-is-blind binging needs to stop immediately. You need a set bed time and you need to be consistent. Waking up and going to sleep at the exact same time every single day. I recommend 10pm - 6am or somewhere around there. 

🥱 Sleep with your mouth closed. Use mouth strips from amazon if you dribble, snore, or struggle to sleep properly - breathing through your mouth is most likely the culprit. It’s not natural and disturbs natures rhythm which is breathing through your nose. Mouth strips have been a game changer for me, and highly recommended. 

🚫 No screen before bed. This is obvious but those doom scrolling morning and nights are over. Switch it off, read a book, pray, meditate, do what you need to. This is about resting your body before bed so you can sleep well and function at your best the next day. 

Sleep supplements: Magnesium oil spray or tablets before bed 

🍴 FOODS & DRINKS: 2 litres water MINIMUM per day. Absolutely no alcohol for the next 10 weeks. Strict diet of vegetables, fruits, protein and healthy fats, high quality meats and fish. More herbs into your food. Seeds, whole grains such as Chia, Flaxseed, Pumpkin seed, Bulgar wheat. More pre-and-probiotics. Sprouted veggies. Snack on nuts. No sweets, no cakes, no carbs. No bread, no pasta, no rice, no gluten. No nothing that is not a whole food, or from the earth. You are your own doctor when it comes to food, so you will know what is best for you. Above is the closest diet to nature and has changed my life. Eating vegetables in season. Removing western foods, removing vegetable oil, only drinking structured water, herb teas, and freshly pressed veg juices. Changing your diet might mean you stop eating out, you cut the takeouts, you spend your evenings researching meal preps for Keto, or healthy diet. Your life will completely change when you start feeding your body ALIVE foods, instead of nutrient deficient, processed food that keeps you craving more. Yes you are going against the grain. You will be the minority, but what are the alternatives? Stay binging? Stay eating crap? Stay feeling crap? 

Supplements: 

Chronium, Berberine for support with blood sugar 

D3 + K2, B12, Vitamin C 1000mg, Turmeric, Probiotics, 

DIM, Milk Thistle, Selenium, Iodine Drops, Omega 3, Mega GLA for women’s health.

Other: 

Get full blood panel done to see any deficiencies 

Invest in a continuous glucose monitor from Amazon - see how your body is responding to foods you are eating in real time. 

🏃🏽‍♀️EXERCISE: There is no way around this. You need to do some fucking exercise. Even if you start with 10k steps per day. Just do it. Once you’ve switched up your diet you absolutely WILL have more energy. Join a gym, set the intention, put reminders on your phone affirming you ARE someone whoo does exercise and works out. Leave your gym clothes out before bed. Set yourself up to win. Find a friend or someone to work out with. Look on YouTube for a workout if the gym is not possible. Just try your best. This is a mind over matter. ~You got this. 

🧘🏽‍♀️ Finally…STRESS FREE LIVING…

You can eat all the healthy foods, do your 10k steps but if you are involved in a stressful life, those stress hormones are going to come and f**k shit up. You have to remove stress where possible. This is the NUMBER one health destroyer. Stress literally makes is ill. It depletes your energy, exhausts you, and keeps you in survival - not much different to the animals living in the wild. Your life can be so stress free once you realise you are actually in control of a lot more than you realise. Blocking HIM. Saying no to hanging out with HER. Hanging up the phone. Removing yourself from the drama. Quitting your job. Changing your course. Deleting social media. Switching off the news permanently. Distancing yourself. There is SO much you can do to remove stress. But it’s completely on you. You have to take control if you are serious about changing your life. 

That’s all for this week! Next week more advice on your pre-2025 glow-up.

[hwangism143]

limbo (part 1)

synopsis: five years ago, lee minho had broken your heart. but five years ago, unbeknown to you, he had also broken his

pairing: non-idol!minho x non-idol!fem reader

warnings: angst, angst, angst. mentions of a breakup and being heartbroken. phrases using the words 'knife' and 'drowning'

word count: 1.6k words

masterlist I part 2

"you took the best of my heart, and left it all in pieces"

then (five years ago).

The moon was always your favorite companion. It made you feel protected. During every important moment in your life, the moon was always there with you. It's silver glow shone on you and your surroundings, dousing everything in an ethereal light.

You prayed that night, for the moon to give you courage.

Minho walked over to you, carrying two lemonades in his hands. Oh, he was beautiful. Even if he was wearing a loose fitting over-sized hoodie and jeans that he had grabbed when you suggested this spontaneous late-night walk, he looked like the world revolved around him.

"Here," he said, sitting down beside you. He quietly sipped his drink and each time he brought the cup to his lips, your heart sank further. He wasn't even looking at you. Since the past few days, all your interactions felt transactional.

All you interactions felt like they had lost the love that used to be infused in them.

"I got a job offer," you say softly, willing for him to look at you. You wait patiently for his response.

"Oh," is all he can muster.

You feel numb. "Oh?" you ask. You hesitate, "Minho, you aren't even looking at me. Look at me."

His face slowly snaps towards yours. Minho's eyes reflect a tired, dull expression. His hair falls to one side and his mouth is slightly open, releasing a puff of breath.

"When did you fall out of love with me?" you ask, eyes shining with tears of hope and fear.

"I don't think I did," comes his cold response.

"Really, because-"

"I don't think I fell in love with you in the first place," he abruptly says.

A tear of anguish and hurt rolled down your right cheek. This time, you're the one who takes a while to say anything. You feel like you're crumbling. Sure, you hadn't known each other for that long, but how could he be so cruel? Why lead you on like this? Why whispers empty affirmations of love when he never fell in the first place?

That night, Minho lay in bed alone. You were at your parents house. You had told him to pack your things and send it to your parents. You were gone. The bed felt cold and empty. It felt like all the light in the house had been snuffed out. And Minho?

Minho felt utterly and completely broken. He had no other word for it. It felt like the parts of his body were tossed around everywhere, like his brain had completely shut down. He couldn't function. His better half had left him and all he had was himself, purely imperfect and unable to do anything.

Minho lied to you. The part about not falling out of love was true. But the reason he lied was because he was still in so, so much love.

He cursed himself for loving you so much. Maybe if he was a little selfish, maybe if he wanted something for himself, you would still be here with him. Maybe you would still be here for him. However, he loved you so much, that he knew he had to let you go.

When he saw the email with the job offer on your computer, the world froze. Minho knew you had the beautiful and lethal quality of loving so viscerally that you would devote yourself wholly to the person you loved. Minho on the other hand, considered love to be a fleeting entity. He knew that you would refuse to follow your dreams, citing distance as a reason to stay in Seoul with him, for a love that would possibly even fizzle out down the road.

That was the day Minho decided that he would have to let you spread your wings as he clipped his.

Minho figured that arguing with you to go would be pointless. You would continue to push the argument until the date of confirmation had passed. And so, he took up the heart-breaking endeavor of making you seem like it was never love. The only way that you would let go of the love you shared was if you thought it was never even love at all.

It was a painful process, making it seem like he didn't love you anymore. Every fallen smile, every quick glance made it feel like a knife was twisting inside Minho. He considered backing out and begging you to stay multiple times. Absolutely not, he would chide himself whenever those thoughts entered his mind, I must let her go for her own happiness.

Even Minho's beloved cats knew he betrayed them. They barely came to him and snarled at him as he shuffled around, a ghost in his own home. He began packing up your things handling them with a care and affection he could no longer show you.

There were so many tidbits of the journey of your relationship around the house. Each one brought back a flood of memories that temporarily paralyzed Minho. Tickets from the first movie you went to, your books and the couple items that you both owned. The cup with your lipstick stain and the brownies you had poorly attempted to bake. The gifts you had gotten him and the the trinkets he had gotten you.

Those inanimate objects belonged more in the house you both shared than Minho did.

He packed everything up when his eyes fell on your favorite, oversized sweater. The cats would not budge from their home in the sweater, looking up at him with steely glares. It smelled like you, he thought.

"Please," his voice broke, "I need it. I need to give it to her. Please."

He collapsed next to the sweater and let out a shaky breath. "Please." His cats didn't move.

Silent cries and quiet pain filled the room.

now (five years later).

Minho was sitting in the SoDoNg lobby. Being the owner of one of the most successful cat café franchises in Korea was certainly... humbling. Seungmin and Jeongin, the finances and socials managers respectively, bickered over coffee flavors. The head chef of the Seoul branch, Felix, watched as the cafe's designer Hyunjin drew a sketch of the plant sitting in front of him.

All of them being here made sense, but Minho wondered what Changbin, Han and Chan were doing here. The music producing trio were here all the time anyways, now they were even present during the business meetings.

Although, considering how they hadn't spoken a word about business, Minho thought that Sunday brunch might have been a more befitting moniker for the meet-up.

"Damn hyung," said Changbin, "Y/N turned hot."

Minho didn't spare him a glance. None of them knew the whole truth of what had happened, just that she'd gotten a job and that the two of them broke up. Minho could feel Hyunjin studying him intently. The hopeless romantic of the group was always trying to set up the other boys to make up the absence of romance in his own life.

"Look, I just hope she's happy. We're done and I bet she doesn't even remember me."

You wondered how he was. Some of your mutual friends had said that Minho was an owner of a chain of cat cafes. You were slightly surprised, never taking him as the business executive type. Only the cat part made sense to you.

You despised him for what he did to you. Because of him, you couldn't love properly anymore. Anytime you felt yourself falling or somebody else told you they were falling, you pushed them away. You couldn't suffer from the heartbreak of finding out that the love you had deluded yourself into thinking you were happy in was an illusion.

The thought of coming back to Seoul filled you with dread. What if you saw him again? What would happen then? You wanted to slap him. You needed to hear an apology from him. You would probably end up bursting into to tears.

These were the thoughts that clouded your mind as you made your way to the dairy section of the grocery store. Working abroad had definitely changed you. You felt so much more mature and confident. Maybe not in the romantic sense, but it felt like your skin truly fit over your bones. You had grown out your hair, changed your style and decided to reflect who you were, not who the world wanted you to be.

You tried to reach for the ricotta cheese at the top of the open freezer. Another thing that had changed were your cooking skills. Back when you lived with Minho, and even before that, he always insisted on cooking for you. Now, you had to fend for yourself.

"Excuse me," you ask the man in front of you, "can you please get down the ricotta cheese for me? I can't reach and I would really appreciate it."

Minho stilled. He recognized that voice. He would recognize it anywhere, no matter where he was.

It was the voice that whispered 'I love you' to him for the first time. It was the voice that scolded him playfully, that told him he was perfect. It was the voice that had shakily asked him if he didn't love anymore. It was the voice that he played in recordings when he felt like he was drowning in loneliness. It was the voice that he willed himself to forget and couldn't for the life of him.

Minho quietly handed the ricotta to you without even turning towards you. You thought there was something familiar about him.

"I'm sorry if this is a weird questions but, do I know you?" you asked tentatively.

Minho should have said no. He should have walked away and spared both of you the agony of seeing each other again. But this time, he let himself be selfish. He left himself fulfill his desires, his urge to see you in all you beauty and all you glory.

Minho turned to face you.

"Minho?"

a/n: haha. i have delivered you a steaming platter of pain. if you want, i'll maybe make a pt. 2?? anyways, drop your feedback, and honestly anything you wanna say, below!

[bgomtori]

☆ evening glow - c.bg

synopsis - where you and beomgyu are able to be natural around each other, and finding solace within one another.

-> idol! beomgyu x idol! reader

-> idiots to lovers, established relationship, comfort angst, songfic with lyrics(?)

-> WARNING! talks about mental exhaustion, burn outs, bad descriptions about idol life.

-> NOTES! w2e and beomgyu is just so 😓😓 and happy valentines day!! here's a vday post based on the poll i did recently

if i feel broken, you will find me.

being an idol was tough, busy schedules, having to put up an image for your fans, and not being able to have quality time with yourself. being an idol meant that you had to always put yourself out there, despite fans telling you that placing yourself first was the most important, it wasn't that easy. you couldn't be yourself, you didn't even know who your real self was at this point, you've had this bubbly, outgoing persona on ever since the start of your idol journey, the moodmaker of your group. you were constantly joking around, making the mood more lively and engaging, yet on the inside you knew that you were just someone who lost their childhood in order to pursue their dreams as an idol

that was when you met him, choi beomgyu, someone who was just like you. the moodmaker of tomorrow x together, the middle child of the group, and the one their members relied on. it was a mere coincidence, your groups had similar comeback dates, thus seeing each other backstage was normal. the occassional eye contacts and waves to each other were meaningful, dance challenges being the only times you two could fully interact with one another. it was normal to feel your heart beating against your chest rapidly, especially since you were standing beside such a pretty boy.

little did you know, beomgyu felt the same about you, he admired your vocals, and dance skills, so perfect in his eyes. he felt as if he saw an angel when he first met your eyes from across the stage at a big awards show, bowing to each other when your group was about to leave the stage. for the first time in a while, he felt his heart racing quickly, if this was still high school, he would have already ran up to you and asked for your number, but life was unfair, there were multiple cameras everywhere, they would have definitely recorded him and both of you would have landed yourselves in a scandal.

"and cut! that was a good take, good work for the day." one of the staff members announced through the speakers, you bent over, clenching your knees, panting heavily as you greeted your fans goodbye, your bandmates doing the same, walking off the stage.

"fuck why is today so much more exhausting than the previous weeks." yunjin complained, gasping for air.

"tell me about it. i feel like i fought 5 wars at once." sakura fanned herself, praying that it'll cool herself faster.

"after this, we're finally done with our comeback promotions." you exclaimed, looking forward to the well deserved break the group needed. your group bursted out in cheers, as if they were the only ones in the building, you could only giggle at their actions, clapping to yourself as you tiredly dragged yourself back to your changing room. however, the felt your legs giving up on you as you stumbled forward, you thought that you were about to fall onto the ground face first, until a pair of lean, yet muscular arms grabbed your shoulders. your eyes widened, looking up to see the man you've been eye candying since the start, choi beomgyu.

"oh, uhm sorry." you stuttered out an apology, stabilising yourself while you continuously bowed to him, your face turning red by the second. "no, it's fine, just be careful.. also your group did really well today." beomgyu reassured, complimenting your group at the same time, you thanked him with a bright smile on your face, "good luck to you guys too! i'm sure you'll do just fine. thank you again." waving to beomgyu, running back to your group who was giving you knowing looks.

you placed a finger over your lips, pushing them into the changing room, you took one last look at beomgyu, who was shushing his members, the tip of his ears turning red, before closing the door behind you.

those useless words were falling apart on me.

bumping into beomgyu in your company was more common now, hybe was big, however you two just managed to find each other no matter what. it wasn't long until you two became friends, hanging out at the cafeteria or cafe during your breaks in between practice, waving to each other excitedly, even having beomgyu drop you off at your practice room or dorm. it was quite obvious to everyone and their mothers that the both of you had something for each other.

"sneaking off to see beomgyu again?" chaewon glared at you, completely unimpressed by the way you tried sneaking out of the practice room. you laughed it off, "i'll be back quickly, you guys need a break too right?"

"fine, but be back by 3!" chaewon shouted, you gave her a thumbs up, closing the door as you started sprinting towards the lift. you had an hour before you needed to return to the practice room, that was enough time, right? after what seemed like forever, you finally reached the floor where the cafe was located at, you immediately spotted the brown haired male, his hair shorter than before, sitting infront of 2 cups of americano and a singular strawberry cake.

"sorry, practice took longer than expected." you sat beside beomgyu, startling him with the loud sound of your chair screeching against the tile floor.

"what the fuck, lift the chair up next time." beomgyu grumbled, covering his ears while glaring at you. you gave him a small apology, awkwardly sipping your americano

"this cake for me?" you smirked, nudging beomgyu's shoulder. beomgyu's face flushed, completely forgetting about the cake's existance until you noticed it, "yea.. i was planning to share it with you." beomgyu mumbled, hoping that you didn't hear the last part. you grinned, giving him a tight hug, taking the first bite of the cake.

"how's the preparation for your comeback?" you asked, nibbling on the cake that was laying on your fork. beomgyu swallowed the sweet treat before resting his chin on the palm of his hand, "it's alright, i guess?" beomgyu sounded unsure of his answer, making you slightly worried, usually he was more enthusiatic over his comebacks, excited to tell you everything about it, but this time it was different.

"are you sure? you don't sound like yourself when you answered me." you asked once again, your eyes landing on beomgyu's nervous state. the silence he was giving you made you more concerned, he has never acted this way before. "you know, you can tell me anything right?" you rubbed beomgyu's shoulder, your attempt in comforting him.

i'm struggling in my world.

beomgyu sighed, his eyes averting from your strong gaze. he bit the inside of his cheek, his mind going blank on him, he wanted to tell you, tell you everything he was feeling, including how he felt for you, but it was hard for him to do so. he didn't want to lose you, mainly because you were idols, and barely had time for one another, but still, would it be worth it? he's about to go to america the next week to work on the collab with the jonas brothers, he's been working non stop. beomgyu was tired, physically and mentally.

"you won't get mad?" beomgyu looked softly into your eyes, you nodded almost instantly, "i would never get mad at you." of course you wouldn't, he was basically the male version of you.

"i'm going to america next week, i'm working on another collab, but i'm not even done recording for the other songs in the full album yet." beomgyu admitted, stirring the remaining contents of his americano, waiting for your response, expecting you to scold him for always leaving you or something.

"you're travelling again? didn't you just come back from your tour in the US–" there it was, you were probably about to blame him for always not being able to spend time with you, "that's crazy, like are you not exhausted? did they even give you an off-day? i'll fight your management for you." oh, that was different, beomgyu had a funny feeling in his stomach, it wasn't a stomachache or anything, it felt nice. butterflies in your stomach, was it? it was nice.

"it's ok! we can always call or text when we're away from one another." you beamed, waving your phone infront of his face, his contact on your phone shoved into his face. he took this chance to read what you named him, and that was when you immediately pulled your phone away, you face flushing red. you fucked up.

"your pretty boy huh?" beomgyu teased, his ego going through the roof after realising that there was a chance that you reciprocated his feelings too. you covered your ears, blocking out any teasing beomgyu has directed to you. "shut up, shhh, i gotta go now, bye. i'm gonna be late. don't look for me." you quickly got up from your seat, making a run for it, apologising to the staff you accidentally bumped into.

beomgyu chuckled to himself, unable to ignore the burning feeling on his face, he hid his face in his hands, screaming to himself internally, a giddy smile appearing on his face as he kicked his feet around like a teenage girl in love. he has a chance, he actually has a chance with the girl he has been pinning over. what a dream come true.

"beomgyu? are you drunk or something?" a voice knocking him out of his giggly thoughts, he eyed the person down, only to see soobin hovering over him. "shut up, let's go, i'm gonna kill this next recording." beomgyu almost shouted, pushing away his chair, causing soobin to jolt from the sudden action. beomgyu returned the tray, walking towards the recording studio, soobin swore he saw beomgyu practically bouncing at each step he took.

i might be full of flaws,

you sprinted as fast as your legs took take you to the practice room, gasping for air as you dramatically fall onto the ground. your heart still pounding over the fact that beomgyu basically found out about your mini (huge) crush on him.

"you look like you just saw a ghost what–"

"BEOMGYU KNOWS THAT I LIKE HIM." you screamed, shaking the closest person to you, which was eunchae. the girls turned their heads to you so fast their heads could fly off. even the staff were stunned. "you what!?" kazuha almost jumped, she wasn't believing what she heard.

"i accidentally showed him what i named him in my contacts, and i just ran away.." you added, answering what the girls were probably thinking.

"you just ran? are you an idiot? you didn't even care to hear what he has to say to you?" you groaned at the questions being thrown at you, rolling on the ground like a child, you grumbled, "i wasn't thinking straight ok? either way, i think he's gonna pick me up from here after my practice, you guys know how it is.. we'll probably talk."

speak of the devil, your phone vibrated in your shorts, you felt yourself flinch at the feeling before pulling your phone out.

gyu : i'll see you later at 6, you can't just leave me hanging like that ;)

oh my god, you hated him, you felt like dying right there and then, the way he teased you made you blush.

"come on yn, we still have to practice, let's go." sakura pulled you up, pushing you to your starting position in the dance. you sighed, your mind was too noisy to dance right now, but maybe this would keep you distracted from your thoughts.

but you will crave my heart.

"yes perfect! that's it for today girls, you guys did amazing." the dance coach complimented, clapping for your group's efforts. you cheered, plopping onto the floor, catching your breath.

"yn, your man is outside to collect you." your dance coach joked, pointing to beomgyu who was peeking into the practice room. you flew up from your current position, immediately packing your bags.

"i'll see you guys later in the dorms, love you guys." you blew them a kiss, winking at them while they cringed at your actions, even gagging. you opened the door, almost bumping into beomgyu's chest, luckily you stopped yourself before you could even collide into him.

"let's go talk somewhere." you mumbled, dragging beomgyu to the elevators. the silence was deafening, your eyes constantly flickering from beomgyu to the ground beneath you.

"staring at me wouldn't help with anything idiot."

"i wasn't, i'm just thinking about how to not make this awkward ok." you retorted, crossing your arms against your chest, waiting for the elevator to arrive. beomgyu chuckled, "how long?"

"what do you mean?" you stared at him confused, walking out of the elevator first while beomgyu holds the door for you before following behind you.

"how long have you liked me?" beomgyu clarified, his eyes never leaving your figure. "a really long time, you know when we first saw each other at that award show, i felt a connection. then i guess from there those feelings grew." your voice was barely above a whisper, kicking the rocks you found on the pavement.

"really? i felt the same when i made eye contact with you." beomgyu's lips tugged upwards, happy that you've felt the same since the start.

"wait so you like me too?" you turned back, stopping in the middle of the pavement, seeing beomgyu give you a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "you're kidding, are you serious?"

"of course i am, you're the first person that could understand me for me, so naturally i fell for you." beomgyu confirmed, the apples of his cheeks turning red. "i thought i was obvious with my feelings.. i swear all the little things i've been doing for you wasn't just platonic."

"fuck, i am so dense." you came to your senses, remembering all the times yunjin would almost scream at you about beomgyu being head over heels for you, but you were too stupid to think that your friendship was more than just platonic.

"then now what? are we dating or..?" you asked, you leaned your body closer to beomgyu, wanting an answer out of him while he leaned away, avoiding your eyes.

"if you want to we can.." beomgyu mumbled, his eyes looking down at you for a reaction, only to be met with the most radiant smile he has ever seen, sparkles in your eyes when you heard his answer. he could feel himself melting from the sight of you beaming in happiness, if he was this mushy already, dating you would be ten times worse.

"alright! now let's go to the convenience store and eat something, i might die from starvation." you stretched your body, intertwining your fingers with beomgyu's as you pulled him along with you. beomgyu stared at your interlocked hands and covered his face, heat rushing to his cheeks. he's finally dating you, like officially, something he has been dreaming off since you guys became closer.

i'm broken.

it's been a few months since you and beomgyu have gotten together. it has been a crazy few months, weird sasaengs catching you guys on a date, causing the media to go crazy over this newfound information which eventually led to hybe releasing a statement, announcing that everything was real. after that incident, you two have been hanging out openly, holding hands and hugging each other, a dream come true.

however, being idols meant that you guys had hectic schedules, you were preparing for your new digital single release while beomgyu was releasing a full album. his workload piling up especially since he had just ended the world tour in japan. you barely saw beomgyu, you were losing it, you missed him so much, calling him through the phone wasn't enough. you missed him so bad to the point you started scrolling through beomgyu's hashtag on both tiktok and instagram.

beomgyu, on the other hand, felt the exact same, he missed your soft kisses that tasted like peach, he missed your head pats which reminded him on his childhood, everything reminded him of you, leading him to buy many items for you. he walked out of the practice room with the rest of the boys, smiling and laughing about different topics that they were discussing, trying to keep the mood up, but once he reached his room, he immediately fell onto his bed, letting out a huge sigh. he was tired out of his mind.

gyu : i'm coming over.

yn : what, why?

gyu : just wait for me :'

beomgyu threw on his coat, quietly unlocking the door to prevent the rest from hearing him. he regretted not wearing gloves, the cold air immediately hitting his skin when he stepped out of his dorm, swiftly, he made his way to your dorm, taking every single shortcut that he knew could take him to you quicker.

beomgyu knocked once, no answer, twice, no answer, thrice– the door opened before he could even knock for the third time, revealing a stunned kazuha standing infront of him.

"oh, yn's boyfriend, what are you doing here?" she stared at him from top to bottom, inspecting his posture.

"i want to see yn, also i have a name kazuha." beomgyu rolled his eyes subtly, making sure that it wasn't obvious. kazuha gave him one last look before yelling your name through the dorm. it was so loud it shocked you, you scurried to where the voice was coming from, only to see kazuha holding the door to a shivering choi beomgyu.

"oh my god, beomgyu come in." you invited, pulling him in by his coat, kazuha closed the door, telling you a quick goodnight as she went into her room.

"how long were you out there, jeez you're freezing." you sighed, rubbing your hands together with beomgyu's hoping that it created some type of warmth for him.

so take me to the evening glow.

"can we go to your room instead of standing here..?" beomgyu whispered, placing his hands on your lowerback as he pushed you towards the direction of your room. you led him to your room, locking the door behind you while beomgyu removed his thick coat, revealing the thin sweater he was wearing. you yelped quietly when beomgyu dragged you down onto the bed with him, his arms instantly snaking around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his shampoo engulfing your sense of smell, bringing you comfort to a certain extent.

"is something wrong?" you whispered into his now long, brown hair. beomgyu was quick to shake his head, "missed you." you smiled at his response, knowing that this wasn't the only reason why he was overly clingly to you. beomgyu didn't like to voice out his concerns often, bottling them in as if they didn't mattered. you understood how he felt, since you do the exact same, thus giving him the affection he needed was the most that you could do to comfort him from his spiraling thoughts.

you rubbed the back of his head, playing with the ends of his wolfcut, placing kisses on the top of his head occassionally. beomgyu hummed contently, burying his face further into your neck, if it was even possible.

"am i.. even worth being an idol?" beomgyu suddenly asked, your hands coming to a halt as you looked at beomgyu's doe eyes. you could hear your heart shattering at the question, beomgyu, out of everyone, shouldn't think like that.

"of course you are, you're like the best, have you seen yourself on stage? you're literally amazing." you conplimented him as much as you could, trying to boost his self-esteem. beomgyu sighed, his grip around your waist tightening. "don't force yourself to tell me, i know it's hard for you to open up, i won't make you tell me everything you're concerned about." you reassured beomgyu, pushing him away to look into his watery eyes.

beomgyu whined, being away from your touch felt like he was going to die, he pulled you back into his embrace, "i want to tell you, you're the only one who understands how i feel." you nodded your head, listening to what beomgyu has to say, from him being physically and mentally exhausted from all the schedules to him getting mistreated by the company. even if you didn't say much, beomgyu knew that you wouldn't judge him for how he felt, he felt as if he could be himself around you, instead of being the rowdy, mischievious member he was, he could be quiet and calm around you.

"thanks for listening.." beomgyu pecked your lips multiple times, smiling into a longer kiss. you hummed into the kiss, tilting your head slightly for better access. beomgyu soon pulled away, placing his forehead on yours, "i love you."

you giggled, pulling him back into a tight hug, "i love you too beom."

and lay me down,

on the sun, the tender sun.

perm taglist! (send an ask to be added) @mrsyawnzzn @tinyelfperson @woncheecks @boba-beom @naveries @be-argyu

[reaper2187]

Daniela x servant female reader

The grand halls of Castle Dimitrescu echoed with an eerie silence, the kind that enveloped the senses and made every creak and whisper stand out starkly against the otherwise oppressive quiet. The dim light of flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls, giving the castle an almost alive and breathing quality. Daniela Dimitrescu, the youngest and most tempestuous of the Dimitrescu daughters, prowled through these halls with a restless energy. Her fiery hair cascaded around her pale face, and her eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and hunger.

Daniela paused at the doorway of the library, a room she frequented less often than her sisters, but tonight was different. She could sense something—or rather, someone—inside that intrigued her. She pushed the heavy wooden door open with a soft creak and stepped inside, her gaze immediately falling on Y/N.

Y/N was a new servant, having arrived only a few weeks prior. Despite her position, there was something about her that caught Daniela's attention from the very first moment. Perhaps it was the way Y/N carried herself with quiet confidence, or the way she seemed unafraid to meet Daniela's piercing gaze head-on. Tonight, Y/N was seated at a large oak desk, engrossed in a thick tome. The firelight from the nearby hearth bathed her in a warm, golden glow, highlighting the soft curves of her face and the strands of hair that fell across her brow.

Daniela watched her for a moment, a slow smile spreading across her lips. She moved silently, her footsteps making no sound on the plush carpet as she approached. When she was mere inches away, she leaned down, her breath brushing against Y/N's ear.

"Enjoying a bit of light reading, are we?" Daniela's voice was a low, seductive purr.

Y/N started slightly, her heart racing at the sudden closeness. She turned her head, her eyes locking onto Daniela's. "Lady Daniela," she said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

Daniela's smile widened. "That's because I didn't want you to," she replied, straightening up and walking around to the other side of the desk. She perched on the edge, her gaze never leaving Y/N's face. "What are you reading?"

Y/N glanced down at the book in her lap. "Just some old legends and folklore," she said. "I find them fascinating."

"Do you?" Daniela said, tilting her head. "And what, pray tell, do you find so fascinating about them?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then said, "They often contain a grain of truth. Even the most outlandish tales have some basis in reality."

Daniela chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Spoken like someone who knows the truth can be far stranger than fiction." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Y/N, do you believe in monsters?"

Y/N held her gaze. "I've seen enough in this castle to know that monsters are very real," she said softly.

Daniela's smile turned predatory. "Indeed," she said. She reached out, tracing a finger along Y/N's jawline. "And are you afraid of them?"

Y/N swallowed hard, the touch sending a shiver down her spine. "No," she whispered. "I'm not afraid."

Daniela's eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and desire. "Brave words," she said. "But bravery can be a dangerous thing, especially here."

Y/N straightened, meeting Daniela's gaze with determination. "I know the risks," she said. "And I'm willing to face them."

Daniela's expression softened slightly, a flicker of something almost like admiration in her eyes. "You're an interesting one, Y/N," she said. "Most of the servants here cower in fear. But not you."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. "I… I don't see the point in living in fear," she said. "Life is too short for that."

Daniela's smile returned, but this time it was less predatory and more contemplative. "You intrigue me, Y/N," she said. "I think I'll keep you around for a while longer."

Y/N felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension at those words. She knew that being in Daniela's favor could be both a blessing and a curse. But as Daniela stood up and turned to leave, Y/N couldn't help but feel a spark of something else—something that felt dangerously close to excitement.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Daniela said, pausing at the doorway to glance back at her. "I'll be seeing you."

Y/N watched her go, her mind racing. She knew that Daniela was dangerous, unpredictable, and utterly captivating. And despite the risks, she found herself looking forward to their next encounter.

The following days passed in a blur of routine and tension. Y/N went about her duties with a heightened awareness, always sensing Daniela's presence even when she couldn't see her. It was as if the young Dimitrescu daughter was always watching, always waiting.

One evening, as Y/N was cleaning the grand hall, she felt that familiar prickling sensation on the back of her neck. She turned around to find Daniela leaning against the wall, watching her with an inscrutable expression.

"You're quite diligent," Daniela remarked, her voice breaking the silence.

Y/N straightened up, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I try to be," she said. "It's important to do one's job well."

Daniela pushed off the wall and walked over to her, her gaze intense. "And do you enjoy your work, Y/N?"

Y/N hesitated, then said, "It's challenging, but rewarding in its own way."

Daniela stopped in front of her, so close that Y/N could feel the heat radiating from her body. "I think you could find greater rewards elsewhere," Daniela said softly. "If you were willing to take a risk."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. "What kind of risk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daniela reached out, cupping Y/N's face in her hand. "A risk worth taking," she said, her eyes dark with promise. "Come with me, Y/N. Let me show you what real power feels like."

Y/N felt a thrill of fear and excitement. She knew that following Daniela could lead to unimaginable danger, but there was something about the young vampire that called to her, something she couldn't resist.

"I… I'll come with you," Y/N said, her voice trembling slightly.

Daniela's smile was triumphant. "Good," she said. "You won't regret it."

As Daniela led her deeper into the castle, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what she had gotten herself into. But one thing was certain: life with Daniela would be anything but ordinary. And as she looked at the fiery-haired vampire beside her, Y/N felt a strange sense of anticipation, a feeling that whatever lay ahead, she was ready to face it head-on.

[chococolte]

Dude imagine sagau al-haitham getting on his knees infront of you😳😳 I would die

word count. 1k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious + cult themes, sagau + cult au, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. i'm going to cry if when he gets released my characterization winds up being completely off that would be so embarrassing.... anyway, i wrote this really quickly and gave it only a brief look over, so i'm sorry for the quality and any repeat words etc!!

Al-Haitham pretends like his knees do not tremble.

His feet beg him to leave. But his bones stay etched into place, like markers long left into earth. Fear clutches at his heart because it is you in front of him— you, blazing like the sun. You, glowing like the moon. You, his God.

The cold sensation seeps into his flesh as your gaze burns his skin. He wishes for nothing more than to rip it off to sinew and muscle, the weight of your eyes almost unbearable. Do you find his appearance unpleasant? Is the sight of him alone enough to displease you?

It is an odd feeling, settling next to the encroaching frost of fear. A dwindling wick of flame that hopes you find him pleasing to the eye, that wishes his veins didn't burn so fiercely with worship as they do.

Al-Haitham is not one for gods. He is not one to pray, not one to worship, not one to conceive of ways to garner your attention— and yet here he kneels, bending on bruised and purple knees, his legs still throbbing from how quickly he arrived.

Up close, Al-Haitham reckons that most could not have resisted the urge to close their eyes. A tugging at the back of his mind tells him he is not meant to look upon you. But the gluttonous, sickening mortal in him wishes to stay fixed on your figure, to breathe you in like you are air— until you are a part of him, until he never has to go a moment without you.

"Come closer," you beckon, and Al-Haitham listens as if he is a dog. His body complies with your order, his body rumbles with pleasure at the thought of doing as you say. Unlike him, he thinks in the back of his mind— but it is also unlike him to adore you, it is also unlike him to still wish to feel the buzzing of your control.

Yet, he does regardless. He still yearns for you either way, despite how he aches not to be. It is not his place, not a burden he is meant to bear; a mortal man can only be so much. But his throat still tears every night, as every worship kept hidden in the morn ushers from his lips in a frenzy, as if begging for forgiveness.

He cannot be truthful to himself when he is awake, away from you. At night, he sees you, a wraith in his memories, colorful and bright— he can't hide from how tight in your clutches he is, and how he can't bear to free himself.

Al-Haitham dimly registers the pain of his knees on gelid marble, the stone offering no comfort, but the euphoria of your gaze numbs the sting. It's only a bleary thought, caked in mud and built on with the need to see you. The pain doesn't matter anymore, not when your hands are reaching forward, nails scratching against his cheeks.

Reverence stops him from leaning into the heat of your palms, stops him from saying every wretched thought lost in his head. He wants to speak until his tongue turns numb and his throat burns raw, but he reminds himself as to why he sits beneath you.

Still, the urge remains. You would understand him. He knows this well. Your understanding has no limit— he has felt it, your acceptance of every part of him, no matter how flawed or imperfect. Every other god has failed him, but you have not.

When you breathed life into him, he saw only a fraction of your thoughts; and how stunning were they, glinting and lucent in the black recesses of his mind. He caught glimpses of the breadth of your emotions, as deep and far from his understanding as the dark sea.

It is veneration that stops him from heaving his lungs, from asking every question no mortal nor faux god can claim to know the answer to.

But he does not. He clutches every urge and keeps them hidden away until he cannot breathe. Only when he has been granted your permission will he ever ask.

"Al-Haitham," you say. "My Haitham. You wonder why I have called for you, don't you?"

"Yes," is all he trusts himself to say, soft like baby's breath. His heart bursts with a foreign vibrancy, coursing through his veins until frissons ripple across his spine.

Your eyes roll over his body, lulling to a stop on his face.

Al-Haitham has never been so acutely aware of the minor faults of his features. He has never been so thoughtful as to how another may perceive him.

"Hmm," you hum, a smile gracing your lips. His heart flutters. "This. You look much better on your knees."

His breath catches in his throat. Al-Haitham stutters, blinking to make up for his gaping silence— but the buzz of warmth spreading from his chest speaks of rapture.

He has never thought that you may find him attractive.

Your laughter peals, and he is transported to a world where it is just the two of you. It is only him, and his God; it is only him, and the one person who truly understands him.

His eyes burn, but he doesn't dare to tear them away from you.

Your smile. He freezes, thinking of only how much he wishes for it to be ingrained into his memory, how the desire scorches him from the inside. He wants to call upon it any time and place, to hear you and lay his every breath at your feet.

"Closer." Your eyes crinkle, the glimmer of candlelight twinkling within. Al-Haitham listens just as he did before, taking a breath.

Your hands run up the side of his face, reaching until you feel the back of his neck. Al-Haitham would have pushed anyone else away. He would've slapped at their fingers, precious as his space is; but it is you touching him, blessing him with the sight of you.

He can't help but lean forward, unable to resist as he did before. Al-Haitham smells you on your wrists, your scent almost overwhelming his senses. His mind races to remember it, entrenching every thought with how the air parts in your wake— how the smell of your candles is attached to your silks and drapery, how he wants nothing more than to drown in it.

When he returns to his chambers, he will write every moment of your encounter until his fingers ache and his wrists are chafed raw to the bone, and every word is enough to send him back. Anything less, and he would be failing you.

But for now, his soul yearns to get lost in you a little longer.

[crackedpumpkin]

Okay how about Cole dating f!reader and one of her ways of showing affection is by making flower crowns for him

Flowers and nature in general being one of her favorite things in life

Hello lovely!! I'll be real, this is the fastest ask I've ever written, with a record-breaking one and a half hours lmao

I hope you enjoy this!!! And thank you for letting me know because I didn't receive the ask the first time (Thanks tumblr.)

|| ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ || ᴄᴏʟᴇ ʙʀᴏᴏᴋᴇꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

“Another?” 

Cole wakes up to flower petals tickling his nose. He lets out a loud sneeze, startling Kai awake. The fire ninja groans, covering his head with his pillow in an attempt to escape the rising sun. 

The earth ninja takes the flower crown you had snuck onto his chest in his sleep, a soft smile gracing his lips when he realizes you had probably put it there before you left for work. 

His fingers gently brush against the soft pink freesia, now wide awake as he sits up.

You usually went to work at five a.m. on the weekdays, but you only needed to stay there till three p.m. since your job was mainly remote. However, your supervisor was in a different country at another timezone, and you needed to be at the office to look professional.

You despised it, and so did Cole. 

He’d notice when you slipped out from under the covers, your side of the bed gradually turning cold. His arms felt empty without you, with your head snug under his and tucked into the crook of his neck.

You hated it too, leaving the comfort of his arms and bed the last thing you wanted before he woke up. So you resorted to leaving little gifts for him before heading off for work. Flower crowns, to be exact.

The habit had started before you, and Cole even started dating. You used to come over to hang out with Jay, the bubbly ninja eager to beat you in every video game he possessed. You had met him in a games store, ready to purchase the latest fighting game. 

You noticed a crowd around a gaming machine set up for demos and went over to look. That’s when you spotted the ninja in his blue gi practically smashing the buttons on his controller, earning himself a new high score. 

You couldn’t let him take your place as the reigning champion of the game, so you stepped up, challenging him to a match where you utterly destroyed him.

That’s when he invited you for a rematch, a friendly rivalry that sparked your friendship. 

When you arrived at the monastery for the first time, you were intimidated by all the ninjas, including their sensei. Though he was kind, it was slightly unnerving how he looked at you with a sense of foreboding.

And then you met Cole.

— — — — — — — — 

“Jay, what’re you having for dinner?” 

A deep voice startles you out of your concentration, but you don’t dare look up, too engrossed in beating Jay. 

“Uh, I dunno, anything, I guess. What’re you getting?” Jay says, eyes trained on the screen. You gnaw on your bottom lip in thought, mentally narrowing down who you had already met and whose attractive voice it could be. 

You had already met Zane, Lloyd, and Nya. So that only left either Kai or Cole. It couldn’t be the fire ninja, though, you had seen him being interviewed a while back, and his voice had a slightly higher pitch. This one had more of a baritone quality, a slight rasp at the end that made your stomach do funny little flips. 

So this had to be Cole.

You risk a quick glance, doing a double take. Your eyes unashamedly rake over the stranger’s muscular build, catching yourself ogling his biceps. You shake your head, cheeks flushing and praying that neither has caught you staring.  

Jay was still focused on the game, and Cole (you assume) was chugging down a glass of water. You find it hard to swallow, noticing how his skin has a glowing sheen from all the sweat. He had probably come back from a workout.

You tear your gaze away before he notices, still feeling the heat in your cheeks. You hear him set down the glass with a soft sigh, your body tense. 

Is your hair okay? Did you look homeless? Did he notice you staring?

Your mind races with thoughts until the words ‘Game Over’ flashes on the screen, a victorious shout from Jay snapping you out of your thoughts. You groan, tossing the controller to your side.

“Who’s this?” You turn, willing the flush in your cheeks and neck to subside. 

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you guys. Y/n, this is Cole. Cole, this is Y/n, my newest rival!” 

“Is that really what I’m being introduced as?” You grin in a joking manner, eliciting a shrug from your friend. 

“Cool. Are you sticking around for dinner? Zane might be cooking tonight.” Cole looks straight at you, waiting for an answer. 

You’re speechless, managing a nod. 

Were you just invited to dinner? With the ninja, no less??

— — — — — — — — 

“Here.” You place a flower onto Jay’s head, and he blinks several times before pulling it out of his hair.

“Is this mine?” He asks innocently, and you nod in response. 

“HA! Suck it, Kai! You’re gonna be the last to get one!” He shouts across the ship, holding it up triumphantly as you roll your eyes with an amused smile.

You had started the habit of giving flowers and little trinkets you found in nature to the ninjas. Zane was the first to receive one, a tiny acorn you had picked up during your walks in the park to recharge your social battery.

He had cooked a marvelous dinner, and you had randomly given it to him to express your appreciation. He had taken it with a confused yet thankful smile and proudly showed it to the rest during dessert. 

The rest of the ninjas became more invested in seeing who was the next one to receive anything. You had triggered their curiosity and anticipation once you had given Nya a beautiful piece of sea glass you had picked up at the beach. She treasured it like it was a diamond, keeping it on her dresser along with her jewelry.

Now, Jay had his small trinket.

Kai was next. He had made the time to help you go grocery shopping when your other friends were busy, driving you there and back in his car. He helped you unload the groceries, thinking nothing of it until you returned to your room for a brief moment, returning with a preserved amber leaf paperweight. 

“This is mine?” He asks, wide-eyed. He takes it from your hands when you grin, admiring the flickers of orange in the paperweight, the colours resembling the sparks of a fire. He wraps you up in a brief hug, excited to go home and show it off to the rest.

“Looks like Lloyd and Cole are the last to receive anything.” Kai chuckles, reveling in the fact that he had received it before they did. 

Your sheepish grin gives it away. His eyes widened. “Just Lloyd?” 

You shake your head with an embarrassed flush.

“Just Cole??” 

— — — — — — — — 

Truth be told, it was challenging to decide what to give the earth ninja. He was the most put together, the most vigilant of them all. 

And the most attractive. 

You had briefly considered a smooth pebble, its midnight shade reminding you of his gi. But that wasn’t good enough. You could imagine the disappointment in his eyes, comparing his stone with the other gifts you had gotten the rest of them.

Besides, it was too cliche. A rock? For the Earth ninja? 

You’d rather bury yourself six feet under.

You were sitting on a mat near the pond in the monastery, having been invited on a small picnic in the sunny weather. You had gathered an assortment of flowers in front of you, starting to absentmindedly weave together the stems into a flower crown. 

The ninjas were chatting away, and their senseis were sitting on the wooden floor of the small pavilion nearby, sipping on tea and watching their students fondly. You were almost done, looping the last flower through the stems.

“Is that mine?” 

Your breath hitches when you glance up, the shy yet boyish smile on Cole’s lips making your heart flutter. He sits down beside you, peering over your shoulder to get a better look at the flower crown you hold loosely in your hands. 

“Y-yeah.” You hope he doesn’t catch the stutter, though a slight upwards quirk of his lips suggests otherwise. 

“That’s a relief,” he laughs, leaning back with his face tilted towards the sun, “I was starting to think you had forgotten about me.” 

Your cheeks fill with a familiar heat, shaking your head with wide eyes. “No! I’d never forget.” You suppress an embarrassed groan at how your words came out, but you’re left breathless when you notice the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“That’s good then,” He murmurs, peeking an eye open with a small smile. 

You bite down on your bottom lip in thought, summoning up all your courage to reach upwards and place the completed flower crown on the top of his raven-black hair, fingers brushing against his bicep. (Definitely not on purpose, of course. A total accident.)

He grins, sitting upright. 

“Nice crown, Cole!” Jay giggles, drawing the attention of the other ninja. 

“Why thank you, it was a gift.” He pauses to send a wink your way, but you look down quickly, flustered by the sudden action though you can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your lips.

You look back up as he saunters to the rest of the group, showing off his present. You watch how he laughs at something Kai says, your gaze soft as he glances back at you. You start like a deer caught in headlights. However, he doesn’t look away, nodding absentmindedly at Jay’s remark that goes unheard. 

Your mind is blank, a single thought floating around inside.

Flower crowns look good on him. 

[chaosology]

bad idea, right?

— Sam Kerr x reader

based off Olivia Rodrigo's new song | masterlist

warnings: steamy, allusions to sexy times. it's a small fic, sorry! i feel it isn't very good quality lol

Haven't heard from you in a couple of months, but I'm out right now and I'm all fucked up

Your drink was spilling all over your hand as you stumbled through the crowds, pulling your friend's hands as they yelled over the music. There was no doubt about your intentions tonight. Sam was fresh on your mind and your friends were sick of you crawling back to her, with Robin going as far to call you a "slutty, lovesick puppy".

She wasn't wrong. Time after time you would wake up in her bed after agreeing to call it off, memories of the night before (and earlier that morning, let's be real) fresh in your head. They made you promise that tonight you'd quote "fuck it out" with someone else, as long as you didn't call her. You were about 80% sure it was doable, after all you hadn't spoken with her in a few days anyway.

The drink sloshes in your cup as you throw your hands up. Strangers are dancing up on you and you throw the cute girl across from you a wink. She's moving closer towards you as the song changes, her hands beginning to snake around your neck. As soon as you close your eyes and relax into it, they're gone.

"Damn, didn't know you were taken for the night."

You shoot her a confused look, and she motions over your shoulder at a figure standing by the door.

Fuck.

Sam's there. Right there - in the club where you're supposed to be finding a fling. She's leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest. She's got an almost amused, cocky look on her face as she stares you down. Her eyebrows raise as she nods, is she giving you her "blessing" to continue? Screw her.

"Don't worry about that." You whisper in the girl's ear, leaning down to bury your face in her neck. In what feels like an instant, you're being pulled away. There's no time to even utter an apology as you find yourself on the other end of the floor.

The lights are casting a purple glow over her face as she looks down at you. The tune of Troye Sivan's "Rush" is loud in your ears as you meet her gaze, a defiant look in you're eye.

"You really thought you'd get away with that?"

"Oh please, aren't we broken up Sam? Pretty sure it was you who initiated it."

"I wasn't the one at my door last week, begging for it." She fires back.

All resolve you had fizzled away as you looked quickly for your friends. Robin was making out with a guy at the bar and Georgie was nowhere to be seen. Perfect.

Her hands are on your hips in an instant, pulling your lower half into her. Your swaying your hips, hands moving to her neck as her chest presses against her back. She's murmuring in your ear and you pray the music is too loud for anyone to overhear. She kisses your neck, her hands running up and down your body as she sways with you. Tangling your hands in her hair, you bring her in for a kiss.

She grabs your thigh, lifting the leg to wrap around her waist as she deepens the kiss. You can't find it in you to care that you're going back to her once again, falling back into that same pattern you came hear to break.

And I told my friends I was asleep, but I never said where or in whose sheets

"Should we get out of here, baby?"

You only nod, letting her know you're off to let your friends know . You tap Robin on the shoulder.

"Fuck, I completely forgot about my lecture tomorrow. I've gotta be up early, I'll let you know when I'm home." A complete lie.

You're glad Sam is out of her line of sight otherwise you'd be in for it. She gives you a hug and you pray to God she doesn't notice your now smudged lipstick. As soon as you're in the taxi, Sam's hand is on your thigh and giving it a squeeze as she winks at you.

Maybe next time, you think. One more time with Sam can't hurt, right?

[heauxvibez]

Fire Chief

warnings: mmm, you'll just have to read and see :)

Vivica's entrance onto the stage was nothing short of mesmerizing. With every step, her hips swayed in a hypnotic rhythm, a captivating dance that drew the gaze of every person in the room. The spotlight followed her, casting her in a radiant glow as she moved with effortless grace and confidence.

As she reached the center of the stage, she paused, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. She exuded an aura of command, her presence undeniable as she prepared to make the announcement that would set the stage on fire.

She delicately cleared her throat, before speaking into the mic, "How you ladies doin' tonight?"

The women erupted into a chorus of cheers and applause, their excitement reverberating off the walls of the venue. The sound washed over Vivica like a wave as she took in the adoration of her audience.

She gestured towards the unseen dancer, feeding the energy of the crowd.

"Well, tonight I want to introduce you to one of my new dancers," she declared, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "His bronze skin glistens like no other, and just his presence alone will send chills down your spine. Woo!" With a playful laugh, she fanned herself with her hand, the motion adding to her performance.

The audience responded with a chorus of laughter and cheers. Vivica's infectious energy had them hanging on her every word, eager to see what she had in store.

"Got me sweatin' and he's not even out here yet," Vivica continued, her pace quickening as she took over the stage. "But he's not going to be heating it up in here. No, ma'am." Her words were punctuated by playful chuckles, her eyes sparkling mischievously as she teased the crowd with hints of what was to come.

With a wink, she leaned in closer to the mic, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, no. His job is to put the fire out, if you know what I mean." The crowd erupted into delighted ooo's, eagerly awaiting the reveal of the mystery dancer who promised to extinguish their burning desires.

"Everyone, welcome... Fire Chief Reigns!"

With a final wave to the audience, Vivica swiftly made her exit from the stage, her heart pounding with hope. She couldn't help but silently pray that Roman would deliver a stellar performance and bring in some much-needed revenue for the night.

Roman's journey with Black Magic, Vivica's exotic dance company, had begun several months prior, when he had auditioned for a spot. Despite his allure—his captivating smile, his soft pretty lips, his confidence, and undeniable charm—Roman had fallen short during the auditions. Vivica couldn't deny that he possessed all the qualities of a true heartthrob, but there had been something missing, a certain spark.

As Vivica retreated backstage, her mind wandered back to Roman's audition. She recalled the disappointment she had felt when she had been forced to pass him over for one of the limited spots in the group. With only 8 positions available, each dancer had to possess that special something, that extra 'umph', that would set them apart from the rest.

Nonetheless, Vivica had seen potential in Roman, a glimmer of something extraordinary that had compelled her to keep him on as a backup dancer. She knew that with the right guidance and encouragement, Roman could blossom into the star she knew he was meant to be. And tonight, as she awaited his performance with high hopes. She hoped he would prove her instincts right and dazzle the audience with his talent and charm.

As the lights dimmed and the pulsating rhythm of August Alsina's "Porn Star" filled the air, eager screams and excited chatter filled the air, each woman eagerly yearning for the man that Vivica raved about.

With confidence, Roman made his entrance onto the stage, his presence commanding the attention of the women. Clad in his firefighter attire, he held onto his hose with an air of casual nonchalance, the jacket slung effortlessly over his shoulder adding to his costume.

Under the glow of the stage lights, Roman's bronzed skin seemed to shimmer and gleam, he was coated in coconut oil that gave him an almost ethereal glow. Every movement he made was calculated, every step drew the gaze of the enraptured audience members, who watched as he began his performance.

His luscious lips curled into a sexy smirk as he watched the women's jaws drop in awe. His body moved effortlessly to the rhythm of the music as he bit down on his bottom lip, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

He dropped the jacket to the floor and gripped the suspenders that held his pants up.

Slowly, he descended the steps of the stage, his eyes locking onto each woman with hunger. As he prowled the stage with predatory grace, his eyes smoldered with a hunger that seemed to penetrate their very souls.

With a teasing touch, he gripped the front of his pants, gradually revealing a trail that seemed to lead to the promised land. The women watched with bated breath, hoping he wouldn't stop the show anytime soon. Just as he was about to reveal more, he pulled his pants back up, his pearly white showing in the process.

The collective sigh of disappointment that swept through the audience mingled with the sound of eager applause and the rustle of bills being thrust into the air. With each bill that fluttered to the stage, they silently pleaded for him to continue his teasing, desperate for just a few moments more in his presence.

He chuckled seductively as he approached his chosen target. His eyes drank in the sight of her, drawn to her pretty brown eyes, the velvety richness of her chocolate skin, and the way her curly brown locks cascaded in unruly waves around her face, framing her features like a halo. With a confident flair, he grabbed her chair and pulled it forward, removing her from the crowd of other women.

As he straddled her, he made sure not to exert too much weight. With a firm grip on the back of her chair, he began to roll his hips slowly, each movement causing his muscles to flex and ripple.

She clutched onto his firefighter pants, her fingers trembling as she slipped ones into the fabric.

"Damn," she groaned, her heart racing faster than it ever had before.

He seized one of her hands, guiding it onto his chest and then slowly sliding it down his body and into his pants. It felt like a test of her patience, an invitation to explore further, to indulge in the forbidden. His intentions were clear, and she couldn't deny the feelings coursing through her veins.

And then, in a daring move that stole her breath away, he placed her hand on his bulge. It was a sensation that weakened her yet made her feel good that she held a power over him that none of the other women in the room possessed. Their gazes remained firmly fixed on each other, a silent and intoxicating communication that spoke volumes without a single word being uttered.

With a slick move, he wrapped his hand around her neck, his grip neither too firm nor too gentle, but just right. With each gentle pressure of his fingers against her skin, she felt the knots of tension begin to form in her belly, a delicious ache that pulsed within her.

In that moment, with his hand wrapped possessively around her neck, she could feel the heat of his skin against hers. It felt dangerous yet exhilarating.

They had forgotten where they were, it was as if the world around them had faded into nothingness.

Leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear, he whispered in a sultry voice,

"I want you after this is over, you understand me?"

---------------------------------------

Yes, yes and yeessss

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho @mzv11

[theofficialpresidentofmars]

did I ever tell you guys about how I would adapt (the tragedy of) Hamlet (prince of Denmark) if ever given the chance. because I have so many thoughts and I’m adding onto them all the time so here’s a post with all my ideas compiled.

- firstly, it would be an animated mini-series of five episodes, each one corresponding to an Act. I think Animation is a highly under-utilised and underappreciated medium that would suit this particular story well in terms of what it could achieve visually and also these are just a bunch of words to say I’m heavily biased towards animation and just love it so much.

- there are so many fun little character design tidbits i would implement. including but not limited to: Horatio being the shortest, Claudius/Hamlet Sr identical twins (and Claudius having a Scar reminiscent scar on his face for the drama… and also the eventual Act 5 Scene 2 parallels when Laertes wounds Hamlet with the rapier in an incidentally similar way), Laertes having a silly curly moustache, Horatio and Ophelia resembling the other, Hamlet looking tired, pale and ghostly at all times, character’s hair being used as a way to show passing of time (Hamlet having hair on the long side of short in Act 1, growing but in a little ponytail over Act 2, medium-length and unkempt in Acts 3 & 4, and cut shortly and neatly in Act 5. also Ophelia’s hair growing noticeably as well and being often neatly braided with little flowers in Acts 1-2, loosely braided without flowers in Act 3, but being down and wild in Act 4 etc), and so on so forth.

- I would shamelessly be including flashbacks to pre-tragedy memories of the castle/inhabitants. Baby R&G&H running through the castle halls and playing hide and seek. Hamlet actually, god forbid, practicing fencing. The Players entertaining at the castle in Hamlet’s youth. Ophelia and Hamlet sneaking out into the garden beneath the willows by the pond, Hamlet braiding flowers into her hair while they sit together. Yorick entertaining baby Hamlet. All coloured with the softest, goldenest glows that nostalgia can manage to contrast the desaturated depressive hues of the current day. I think a lot of the tragedy of *Hamlet* specifically lies in comparing what was to what ended up being, and since the play starts after Hamlet’s entered his mourning period, it’s hard to fully comprehend the true nature of such a fall.

- Each Act having a lovely stylised title card in its introduction with themes and motifs that are specifically prevalent throughout. Act 3 would have curtains, for example, given the play staging and Polonius’ later poor choice of hiding place. Act 5 introduces the classic skull we all know and love.

- Very purposeful dramatic lighting and colour throughout. Daylight lighting and then the switch to a lot of Hamlet’s soliloquies seeming to appear under more ‘spotlight’ lighting. Early evening during the play, sunset during the scene where Claudius prays (golden light tricking through beautiful stained-glass windows), nightfall when Hamlet yells at Gertrude. Lighting also being used to dramatise entrances perhaps, such as Claudius’s prayer being interrupted by the shift to ‘spotlight’ lighting before we even see Hamlet at the door.

- Same goes with music and motifs, interwoven character leitmotifs and themes that shift keys and qualities and work together to make larger pieces and show up to herald the arrival of a character, or turn sour to match their emotions.

- the visual humour of the play being upped, as well as the wordy humour being emphasised, in order to really contrast the shift in tone throughout the halves of the play. I’ve always been a tragicomedy truther when it comes to Hamlet, I think if done well it could be a really neat way to get the audience to invest more in the characters while also really highlighting how quickly everything goes south.

Probably add more on as I go

[icanseethefuture333]

can you talk more about deity worship? esp with aphrodite !!!

Aphrodite

My experience with Aphrodite as my matron 🌷

As I previously mentioned before in this post, I first began doing witchcraft when I was 17 years old. I had a reading done about which deity wished to work with me and Aphrodite wanted me. I was hesitant because I was a tomboy + alternative in high school so I didn't feel like the Goddess of beauty and love was for me. I questioned her choice in choosing me even though I was seeing signs from her (white doves landed on my windowsill for a year straight). What I didn't realize was that Aphrodite was known more for her beauty and grace, she was also the goddess of war. Over the years Aphrodite has been nurturing, loving, and caring towards me. She has given me the strength and guidance when I needed it the most. Very much so like having a relationship with a mother.

My character development

Working with Aphrodite has given me a "inner glow up". Meaning - I reconstructed my view on what being feminine is, what kind of feminist I am, and acknowledging when I was misogynistic in the past. As well as helping me heal my mother wound and allowing me to be able to see things from her perspective when I was angry with her for her constant mistreatment towards me. I can for sure say thanks to Aphrodite, I am more patient, I am more wise, and I am learning to be soft. In a patriarchal society, being soft, sensitive, or gentle is looked down upon. Living in a society where you have to always be tough or "realistic" is so depressing. It's as if you're not allowed to have dreams, hopes, or desires. Independence is a wonderful thing, but you have to be able to depend on your loved ones at some point, because then you'd be just wearing yourself thin. Since beauty is a popular topic when it comes to Aphrodite, I also noticed a lot of physical changes in my appearance (clear skin, longer hair, fuller lashes, etc) 😳

Spellwork

As for doing spells with Aphrodite, the process is quite simple, I just ask for help and I feel the job gets done. I also give her offerings (she loves apples!!!) when I can and pray to her. From my personal experience, Aphrodite enjoys doing spells that involves quality time. For example, I often include Aphrodite when I do glamour magick or recite my affirmations. For example:

"Thank you, Aphrodite, for blessing me with the most beautiful, glowing clear skin."

I hope that answers your question 🌸🌊💖!

[villainsimpqueen]

Echos In Paradise Lost.

Chapter 3.

(My fics are 18+.)

summary: Gold itself is inert and does not tarnish or corrode, but it can be alloyed with other metals that may affect its appearance or properties. However, the purity of gold can be compromised if it is mixed with impurities during the refining process, resulting in a lower quality or different color of gold. Additionally, gold can accumulate dirt or oils over time, which may affect their appearance but can usually be cleaned to restore their original shine.

Chapter 3.

Branches, thorns and vines slapped against your body as you ran through the forest of the Gardens. Your heart pounding in your chest as you ran searching.

You were moving too fast, you needed to slow down and so you leaned against a tree heaving allowing you burning lungs to ease from their over working.

You needed to breathe and you needed to focus, You needed to find Adam, but if you rushed you may have missed him.

He had taught you to track.

You let out a shaky breath and took in the surroundings that were barely being lit up by the moon. The messy path proved that your dear husband had come this way and you kneeled down to rub your fingers into his tracks feeling how soft the disturbed soil was, it was still fresh, meaning you couldn't be far behind him.

You steeled your breath as you pushed up, your world spinning lightly as your head throbbed causing you to hold the wound.

“Adam!” You shouted in hopes your husband was still very near to hear you, that he would come back to you, to Eve.

Only the soft sounds of chirping crickets and the occasional chirping of night birds called back to you.

You moved slowly following your frantic husband's tracks as you shouted for him, hoping, praying that he would answer.

“ADAM!” you shouted with your hands over your lips to make your voice stretch longer.

"I stand close by thee, my dearest.”

Adams voice called, causing you to turn, your eyes straining in the darkness as you searched for your husband.

"Adam, I beseech thee to return unto me, my husband, I implore.” You called back into the nightly shadows.

"Pray, come hither, my dearest, and prove thou dost not harbor disdain towards me.”

You Husband sounded frantically worried and it pulled at your heart as you neared the shadows. You just wanted to comfort your husband, You needed him well in mind so that He could help free your dearest wife from the snake's hold.

"Never could I harbor hate towards thee, thou art my most cherished husband. I do perceive thy troubled mind, yet I have pardoned thee. Pray, emerge, come unto me, Adam.” You pleaded with him, nearing the shadows you saw a glow, perhaps a flash of your husband's golden eyes, and your chest ached as you saw they moved away from you. How could he not see that you could never hate him? That you fully believed in your husband and that you knew that he was good, pure and loving. That you had not seen the out wordly source that occurred during such an argument, Your husband was not cruel.

"Hither, I beseech thee.”

Adams' voice wailed, it sounded ugly, broken and torn and it was working like a lure to lead you into the shadows, into the darkest parts of the forest. Playing against your nature to comfort your loved ones, an act that it had learned to use against you.

You went to take a step off the path you were one, almost blinded by the need to reach your husband, that you didn't focus on how his tracks did not meet the path of the voice calling out to you. Begging you to come to it, Surely he must've turned somewhere up ahead? Perhaps he heard your calls and turned back another way?

"My beloved, I implore thee.”

You nearly entered the darkness, your lips opening to call out for Adam once again, to beg for him to come near you, to take your hand.

“My Husba- '' Your voice cut off and your shriek was muffled by a large hand covering your lower jaw as your backside was pulling into warmth.

“My Echo, that is not me..” Adams' hushed and panicked voice was low and gravelly in your ear. You felt your feet being lifted from the forest floor as You felt your husbands movements through his chest, the soft snapping of twigs and vines under his feet.

"Come to me, dearest"

The voice of your not so husband called from the shadows making you move your head back against Adams chest, Seeing how his scorching eyes glared stone blades out into forests Shadows. His chest rose and fell against your back quickly, a look of torment in your husband's eyes.

What was he hearing?

What were the snakes tormenting your husband with?

And for the first time, you prayed, You prayed to the heavens to the Angels above for you to understand what the snakes were doing to your husband.

And your prayers had been answered.

You heard screams of agony that came from.the voices of your beloved wife, screams from your own voice that was not in fact your own.

"Thou art naught, a mere vessel of ineptitude.”

such cruel words aimed towards your Husband, as the screams pierced through.

Taunting him and jabbing at your Husband, things you had not known that would cause him such pain. Adam had always seemed so confident, was your husband suffering in silence?

"Thou couldst not even retain thy first consort, wherefore should I deign to cast mine eyes upon thee?” Not Your dearest Wife speaks harshly to him, her words cold and sharp like striking him with a spear.

"The celestial beings should never have birthed thee. Thou art naught but an erratum of existence.” Your not voice cut into your husband deeply.

You felt how his breathing quickened against your back, how his arms trembled around you. His ragged breath quickening against your ear as his eyes stared into the shadows making you look back seeing a set of golden eyes scorn back at you both.

"Thou shalt ne'er be a good husband, doomed to solitude for eternity.” A voice speaks one you have heard failing to be of morning doves when it was singing birds.

You felt how Adam flinched and you looked back at him, feeling him shake around you as he held you. You could still hear a voice trying to lure you away from your husband, coaxing you to leave him, to join them in the shadows.

"Doth thou not crave the taste of being a virtuous husband?”

You jolted from the voice as it did not sound far away from you like before, you felt a shiver run up and down your spine as your skin blossomed with bumps and your hair rose as the voice whispered into your other ear that was away from Adam's hyperventilating lips.

"Doth thou seeketh a partner who would ne'er seek to wield dominion over thee?”

You felt a sick feeling overtake your chest as you could hear the whisper in your other ear, felt the faint lips that ushered them against your lower lobe.

“ To conceal no secrets? Dost thou ponder upon the veracity of Adam's words to thee and Eve?”

You felt as if something was wrapping around you in a tightening grasp, more so tightly than your husband's shaking arms. The feeling of leaving an unbelievable cold chill even with your husband's warm and burning chest against your back, and the fur cloak that kept you hidden did not shield you from this creeping chill.

“Why was Eve fashioned? And why were thou?”

You shook your head away trying to get the feeling of the lips away from your ear with a small cry.

"Thou art a pitiful creature, consumed by the lust for dominion over thy wife, so fervent that thou hast smote thy hapless spouse.” the feminine voice spoke hauntingly.

"Nay, nay, I ne'er wished for it... I did never yearn to cause them harm... I have learned... I am altering my ways…” Your Husband voice shook as he sputtered. His grasp on you weakened and you clawed at his trembling arms.

"I could reveal unto thee the essence of a noble husband. I shalt ne'er dictate unto thee as Adam doth, but rather set thee free unto realms yet unexplored.”

You yelped again squirming in Adams' hold trying so desperately to get whatever was whispering in your ear away from you, the feeling of something slithering around you and squeezing you only grew more causing you to cry out in distress.

"Hast thou indeed? Behold thee now, holding thy spouse captive against their volition. They yearneth naught for thee, for thou art but naught!”

You heard your husband let out a breath and it rasped away from his lips and a low weeping whimper left him. His arms started to unwrap from you, causing your feet to fall to the forest. You felt so utterly sick, as if you were being torn apart from your skin and flesh. This was pure Agony, this was..Was something you had not learned such words to describe but you felt your Wife and Husbands losing themselves, Losing faith.

These ugly creatures preying on them, preying on you, you did not understand why.

Why were such creatures ever in these gardens, in your home?

Why did they get to torment your loved ones and you so?

What right did they have?

To surround you and your husband with tormenting words, all around with screams and sounds that brought inducement to one soul.

What were their goals? Their ambition to cause so much distress?

Your love for each other was true, their love for you was true.

Pure.

YOU believed it with every single speck of dust and flesh of your being.

As you were sculpted and stitched together to be so for them.

Without their love, you surely could not exist in such a world.

How could these Snakes speak of such things?

“LAIRS!” You screamed and it was piercing, causing silence to overcome the forest, aside from your husband's ragged breathing.

"Liars hath no voice in this realm!" Your voice seemed almost booming, as it echoed through the shadows of the trees and it was

if on your command the heavens moonlight shone down brightly illuminating against the trees and brush, drowing away the shadows with its gentle relieving light.

You and Adam stood basked in the soft gentle light both breathing harshly, you turned to look at your panting husband watching how his eyes did not leave where the other scornful golden eyes had stood, now vanished away by the heavens light.

The feeling of whatever foul trick the snakes played to enrapt your body had left you, once again freeing yourself to move and breathe.

You hadn't even hesitated, moving towards your Husband hiding your face into his chest, your arms wrapping around him as much as you could clinging to him as tears stung your eyes.

“No….Y/n…I…I shall only bestow upon thee anguish.” Your husband's voice sounded broken as it trembled as much as his own body did within your grasp, and it itself had brought you more pain than the throbbing wound on your head.

"My husband, my dearest, my Adam, Thy heart harbors no malice, I perceive and trust that thy deeds were not wholly thy own, just as Eve's are not solely hers. We are beset by adversaries, endeavoring to erode our trust in each other and our love.” You spoke wholeheartedly believing your words were true as you squeezed your arms even tighter around your husband looking up at him with love and empathy understanding in your own eyes looking into his fear filled golden ones.

"They have ensnared our wife, weaving deceitful words around her, I implore thee, my husband, expel them from her midst, Shield her from their influence as thou hast shielded me." You pleaded with him, begged your husband.

"That serpent...Lucifer, he is much grander than I... y/n I am but a mere man... in comparison to him, I am naught…” Your husband so dejectedly murmured, You could only stare up at him in disbelief.

Your husband was nothing?

The husband you had taught you how to hunt? Your husband that had provided you and Eve such splendid meals each night after spending hours hunting? Your husband who had fought a large snarling beast that towered even above him? A Bear that was somehow bigger than your husband, as big and tall Adam was? Your husband who had turned that bear into the softest of beds for your wife and you to lay on next to him?

Your husband who had held you so tightly and safe in his arms as you cried into your wife's chest that dreadful night? Your husband who had left spear in hand so confident and determined to keep you and your wife safe when they had preyed upon you?

Adam, Your Adam was nothing?

Blasphemy. Lies.

You moved cupping your husbands cheek making those normally intense scorching eyes which now looked so dull as if those snakes words had sullied their shine.

But gold can not tarnish. Gold was pure, just like his soul.

Nay, my love, thou art far greater than thou dost perceive. Thou art more than a mere man in my eyes. Thy worth surpasses his, for thou art my husband, my protector, and my beloved.” You spoke so softly, so lovingly to your husband, showing your affections and devotion to your husband, listening to how his breath hitched as he listened to your words.

"Thou art stronger than aught I e'er did know, swifter than aught mine eyes e'er beheld, and brighter than the sun at its highest peak. And I doth believe it so, for I believe in thee with all the love in my heart.” You whispered to him, only allowing him and him alone to listen to your confession, watching how those intense sourcing golden eyes sharpen with each word, arising with each one of your breaths. It was as if you were breathing the fire that forged him into the sharpest of blades, as each word you spoke was utterly the truth of your beliefs, repairing the bends and dents the snake's blows had delivered against him.

Feeling his sturdy arms wrap around you securely, protectively.

His eyes burning directly through your soul as he looked at you so intensely it would bring the bright scorching sun envy.

Then you watched how they melted, softening on you as he pulled you closer to him, bending his head down, and your eyes fluttered shut feeling your husband's lips pressed against your own for the first time.

It was short but it sent a million tingles through your spine as he pulled away, his lips placing on top of your head as he held.

His eyes stung as he held them close tightly, his inhales sharpening as he steadied himself, breathing in the sweet and yet smokiness that came from you always reminding him of the meadows Eve loved and the Fire he liked to play with.

How foolish of him to ever doubt.

He was made in the Angels perfection, He was made to protect his wife and spouse and any children he fathered.

This was his very purpose.

How could he believe the words of the banished?

The ones that had to sneak into the gardens to weakly lure his innocent wife, his one and only true bright sun.

The ones that torment his precious spouse, His paradises perfect Echo.

He was more than just a Man.

Adam was the First Man ever made.

He was made with perfection and he was never to be tarnished to flawed.

How could he ever allow some lowly cast away from heaven and heavens first failure ever sway him from his true path? Allow them to tear apart the ones he loved more than anything?

Adam could never thank the heavens Angels more for them blessing him with such a perfect spouse like you. For if it wasn't for your words of pure incorruptible truth, he would have forgotten himself by their wretched words.

"Let us hence and chase them away from our wife.” Adam spoke to you in a low voice, pulling away allowing you to see him. See his unwavering unafraid gaze as he stood up tall, taller than you have ever seen him stand before, his shoulders Broad as he moved a gentle hand to your back as to guide you back.

And you could not help the overbearing feeling of pride as you took in your husband, now ready to defend against evil attacks.

As your belief was ever true

Gold can not tarnish.

-----

@seriouslyaverage

@jinisblad1

@dovespancakes

chp 4