#that neither of them want to be alone in the world or empty anymore--

[dent-de-leon]

Obsessed with the idea of Molly being terrified of Lucien, wanting nothing to do with him and insisting that that person is dead because he was scared that Lucien just naturally desired to be cruel and that was something he never ever wanted.

But then Lucien comes back and Molly realising that Lucien largely doesnt WANT to be cruel. But he's been so warped by pain and fear that he thinks that control and possession and manipulation is the only way to keep people from hurting you.

And Molly is like "Oh honey no.... let's get you some therapy."

Molly never wanted to be cruel, ever. But helping someone in pain learn to open up to gentleness and vulnerability? To show kindness? That scares him a lot less and it's what finally leads to their peace. To Kingsley.

Acknowledging and healing Lucien's pain and fear allowed them both to be better

yES!! Mollymauk is so haunted by the little glimpses he sees of Lucien's past, lives in constant fear of those terrifying moments when another life bleeds through. "Whoever it was came to that end, and I want nothing to do with that. Whatever it was, it doesn't feel good when I--when something creeps through, I don't like it. I don't want anything to do with it. I was happy! I liked the circus! The circus was great!"

He crawled his way out of an unmarked grave and woke all alone in the world, reaching for a red moon in the dark. He's always been aware just how fragile his life is, afraid that he'd be sent back to the grave, that his charmed little life at the circus could be torn away from him at any moment--as could his loved ones, like Lestera.

Mollymauk always seemed to believe his time was short, so he always tries to make the most of it. Which involved running away from the past--from anything that could shatter the tentative peace he tried so hard to keep. Whoever Lucien was, Molly knows just enough to instinctively fear him, to believe that all his loved ones would abandon him if they ever knew the truth. During the Zone of Truth, he confesses that, "A lot of this was in the hopes that maybe it would never happen; keep moving, keep quiet."

So I can't agree more--watching Mollymauk face his greatest fear, seeing him finally confront Lucien after all this time--and he's still kind and compassionate enough to try and help him? After everything he did? It's such a pleasant surprise, and just a testament to his character and bleeding heart. I don't think there's many people who'd be able to look at this dark mirror of themselves and have the capacity for love and forgiveness that Molly does.

But of course Mollymauk still wants to help him, still genuinely cares for him. It's, "That's not how we are, Lucien. We love broken things the most." And, "I know what the others think, but the truth is...How do I put this...The world is harsh and cruel, and I don't seem to be able to just walk on by. You see a wrong? You fix it." He saw how much Lucien was suffering, he saw just how painfully alike they are--that they were both "broken," shattered souls--and he couldn't just leave him. He couldn't. Mollymauk just can't bear to abandon someone, and it breaks my heart.

And I think a big part of Lucien's fall also stems from just how much self loathing and disgust he wallowed in, how he clings so desperately to the idea he has this "glint." That he was meant for bigger, better things, that he's somehow fated for so much more--that there's an escape from his painful, bloodstained past in Shadycreek. I think Beau really struck a nerve when she asked, "Do you think you're special, Lucien? I mean, someone who wakes up every day, and thinks they're different, blessed." Because god, he wants to be. He wants to be someone capable and powerful and worthy, craves it more than anything, even as he keeps running away.

He holds onto a stack of letters from his sister that he absolutely treasures, yet he doesn't dare answer any of them--too paralyzed with fear at what she'd think, terrified she'd see the person he'd become. He thinks he's not good enough to go back to her, has nothing at all to offer her. And I think that's part of why he bought into the Somnovem so quickly; he was desperate for a way out. A chance to be more. He needs to have this glint Cree mentioned, because then there's still hope. He can still be someone fortunate enough to take care of his sister, to get them away from Shadycreek forever. He can still be one of the heroes in the little plays he used to perform. He can still change his fate. And, most tempting of all, he can bring his family back.

And it's so sad that his self-depreciation and guilt started so young, that even as a child, he was tormented by all the atrocities his parents forced him to be complicit in. Until Lucien couldn't bear what they'd turned him into anymore, and he makes sure they can't hurt anyone else ever again. "After a while I couldn't let it go on, couldn't look at myself or live with myself, so I burned the caravan with all three of them inside, took my sister, and that was that...No more little songs. No more farces."

Mollymauk is fascinating, because he's another facet of Lucien. He was born from the very same soul. So in one sense, I think Molly reconnecting with Lucien is so beautiful, because it really does feel like a kind of self love and acceptance. But in another way, I think they're almost like family too. It really struck me that Kingsley called Molly a "brother;" just the way that he said, "Everyone should have a brother." It's such a sweet sentiment, especially considering that Lucien had a brother--someone he lost so long ago.

A corpse left buried in the snow. An empty puppet. A hollow, ghastly reminder of the person he once knew. Lucien had a brother, and they were killed, their body desecrated by their own parents. He had a sister, who he was willing to sacrifice everything for, and it still wasn't enough. In the end, even she doesn't trust him anymore, and he's entirely alone. So then here's Molly, and he does the one thing that Aldreda and the rest of his family never did. He decides to stay with Lucien. To reach a hand to him when he needs it the most.

In many ways, Molly is the family that Lucien always wished for. Ironically? If they actually were siblings, I think Lucien would've been very protective of him. Even as things are, Lucien still starts to grow a bit fond of Mollymauk in spite of himself. Starts to slowly regret the life he'd taken from him, as loathe as he is to admit it. "Nothing about this has been easy, and our hard work is at an end. Our chats have been...edifying. Goodbye, Tealeaf. You won't survive where I'm going."

I do think the end of the novel really did reassure me about a lot of why I found C2 heartbreaking, because I like that Molly and Lucien both decided to come back together. That it was a choice they both made, and they both live on as Kingsley. It's Molly getting another chance and yet deciding to bring Lucien back with him, because Molly thinks he deserves it too. It's neither of them being alone. It's both of them returning to the Nein, hand in hand, and deciding to try again--

[absfawn]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— IN YOUR ARMS, WHERE IT’S SAFE.

been thinking a little too much about abby after santa barbara. a once confident, brutal yet adventurous and tactical woman who didn’t let anyone get in her way, to a reserved shell that flinched or panicked whenever something bad happened around her. how her only thought is to make sure lev is safe and protected from the world they’re running from. every night that she goes out to look for extra supplies has her paranoia heightened, making sure to look over her shoulder every step she takes, not wanting to take any chances.

those late nights that she goes without lev to find more food, extra supplies, leaving them back at the small shack they called home, alone, plays on her mind the entire time. worried and anxious if she made the best decision to go by herself, but the other part of her brain didn’t want her to stress so much, she had food and drink to find, to make sure neither of them got sick, to never have that fear or feeling of dying again. 

the place is empty. quite. once, that much quietness had abby on high alert, looking around for any sign of danger, but now? now she was rushing, pushing herself to just find what she came here for. she tries to ignore the way her brain already wants to leave, and keeps pushing herself forward. she promised lev she would be back with food, or at least something for them to eat, and she wasn’t about to break that promise because of her high paranoia. she’s not by herself anymore.

the store clearly had been ransacked hours before, but abby was used to doing patrols and going out for extra supplies, so she knows there is always something left on the shelves, in the drawers, or even tucked away hidden. wiping her forehead with her arm, abby slowly makes her way around the isles while trying to make as quiet of sounds as she possibly could. she didn’t really prepare herself like she would have done years ago, maybe that’s her own fault, but right now getting back to lev alive and well was the second thing on her mind. finding something to eat was the first. 

her stomach grumbled at the singular thought of eating something that wasn’t bread she found a few days ago and sighed softly at the sight of a couple tinned food cans on the shelf near one of the back exit doors. thankful that whoever was here, was in a rush to get what they could to not realize they had practically saved her night by leaving behind a little something that is good enough for lev to eat.

her feet carry her slowly, she’s tired, she’s been walking around for a good few hours to find a place, and now that she’s found one, she can feel the exhaustion in her body. the ache in her bones and muscles that haven’t gone away in months. one good nights rest is all she asks for, but will she ever get that? will there be a day where she doesn’t have to look over her shoulder, and relax? even she doesn’t know.

by the time she gets to where she wants, abby doesn’t have enough time to react, she just cowers away into herself when another hand touches hers abruptly, which were reaching for the same canned food she spotted. those eyes go wide when she notices a woman looking at her, then the food and then back at abby with a small curve in her lips. “sorry, was in my own world then, did you want it?”

nothing seems to come out her mouth as she just stares. slightly scared, and the rest of her somewhat calm. she doesn’t know why, but she was.

“didn’t mean to scare you,” they whispered, offering their name which causes abby to relax enough that she can put her arms back down, stop protecting herself to respond with her name.

“abby.”

“s’pretty name. abby” you test out her name, another smile appearing on your face as you do. “nice to meet you,” you lift your hand out towards her and you feel your heart break when she flinches back away from you. “oh, no, i won’t hurt you,” you frowned, shaking your head sadly.

abby’s at a loss for words, really, she doesn’t know what to say or do while you look at her with such a soft look that makes her feel like she is going to explode from how gentle you were, and how slow you approached her. “i promise, if you need the food, it’s yours” you offered again, holding the canned food out for her.

“you got it first,” was the second thing that came out her mouth. looking at you, analyzing you silently.

“are you here alone?”

“i have lev at,” she paused, eyebrows furrowed in a tight frown. “at home. so i’m just trying to find something for them to eat”

“would you,” it was your turn to stumble over your words as she wiped her face again, huffing at herself softly. “want to stay with me? i have warm water, you could have a shower, it’s hard to find that lately, i can make you something to eat. i have a room you can sleep in, if you want. you don’t have to, i would just feel safer knowing you are safe” you rambled, waving your hands around.

the blonde is at a loss for words again, she’s met a few groups of people since that night, but none of them had ever offered to help her and lev. let alone offer to let them both stay in their house, and you could tell she was fighting with herself at the sudden stare she was giving you. more confused and terrified this time. “i can’t ask you to do that. we will be okay”

“you’re not asking me, m’offering you to stay with me. for however long you want. there’s no pressure, but company is always nice. i would really like company, especially when finding that company is really hard now”

“i- we would have to go back home, and get lev first, and make sure they are comfortable staying with you. i’m fine with it, but i’m all they have left. we are all each other have now”

abby’s heart thumps in her chest at your sudden bright smile, and nodded up at her. “s’okay, there’s no rush. as long as you are both comfortable with it. oh, your food!” you laughed, looking away as your face heated up. “please take it, you had it first”

“you had it first, actually.” abby laughed softly.

the sound had your heart thumping loudly in your chest this time.

taking the tins from your hands carefully, abby finds herself blushing as your fingers graze hers before pulling away just as quickly with a clear of her throat. “shall, shall we go?”

“lead the way, abby”

your house wasn’t one that she assumed you would live in. she expected something small, or tiny, not a complete farmhouse. and you offered to let her and lev stay here? after quickly agreeing, saying where they lived was too small for the pair of them, and multiple panics about abby taking a little longer than usual, the blonde reassured she would always come back and this was a chance to change their life. have something they haven’t had in a while. comfort and safety.

abby’s cautious of when she steps foot in the small home that you’ve made for yourself. her once bright eyes, now almost lifeless, bore into everything. silently making sure nothing is going to pop out and hurt lev here. when you notice the worried look on her face, you take a small step towards her, a soft smile on your lips and you simply hold your hand out for her. “i won’t hurt you, i promise” you assure her, even though you don’t have to. you’ve already been good enough to let her and lev stay here, so she just nodded at you, looking at your hand before holding hers out for you. slightly flinching when you hold onto hers softly. “it’s okay,” you smiled again. your smile suddenly becomes her favorite sight.

even after you’ve made something for them to eat, she watches you closely, especially with the way you rub lev’s shoulder when you place both bowls of stew on the table and that if there is anything else they want to eat or need, just tell you and you will gladly make it or get it for them. she still watches you when you make your way into the kitchen. and there’s a sudden drop in her stomach upon hearing the latch of the back door opening that has her bolting off her chair, looking for you with wide eyes.

“hey, i was just going to— abby? what’s wrong?” you frowned in your spot, noticing her now sweating and crimson face looking down at you. “hey,”

“where are you going?” she found herself asking, a little too rushed for her liking.

“i’m just going out to hang the laundry,” you smiled tiredly, chewing your bottom lip gently. “m’not going anywhere. do you want to come with me? lev is happily eating in the living room, so you’re more than welcome to join me. you are a little taller than me so, you can hang up some stuff for me”

abby doesn’t hesitate to agree. her sudden urge to be around you constantly peaks through as she turns around a final time to just check on lev, who was reading one of the books you left out and eating away at their food. with a final nod to herself, abby rushes herself through the small kitchen and through the back door, where she finds you already hanging up some of the cleaned clothes with that soft smile still on your face.

“need help?” abby finds herself smiling this time. a real one.

“always. get over here”

the blonde already knew she could trust you. just by how gentle you were with her. not pushing her to talk about something you knew was making her uncomfortable. you didn’t ask about the scars on her arms when you saw them, you just simply pressed a soft kiss to the ones on her hands and continued your task. she asked you about your life, and how you got here, which you gladly shared. with each word you gave, it drove her closer to you. she continuously found herself not even doing what you asked her and simply watched the way you spoke, the way your eyes lit up at the mention of something you loved doing, or how you spoke with your hands at times.

you still noticed the way she would cower away or flinch you when touched her as the night came and the stars shone in the sky, or a loud noise rang out but for the most part, abby apologized and said it wasn’t you, it was trauma that she’s been dealing with, still dealing with and you constantly reassured her that it was okay. she doesn’t need to apologies for being jumpy with certain things. the one time she let you touch her without flinching, was when she dropped the laundry basket because you had slammed one of the chicken cages shut, and rushed towards her and held her hand tightly, without another thought you rubbed the back of her neck comfortingly and and smiled against her temple. assuring her that everything was okay.  

that same night, when lev is finally at peace and can get a good rest, she is the one who can’t fall asleep, like usual, she finds herself knocking on your bedroom door, thanks to the soft bed lamp shining under it. stumbling and blushing once you yell a soft ‘come in’ and she finds you curled up on your bed, reading a book. “you okay?” you ask, closing the book, leaning over to your side table and placing it down carefully before looking over at her again. “can’t sleep?”

“no,” abby pauses, chewing on her bottom lip harshly. “can i stay in here with you?”

“of course, come here”

and she could cry at how you open your arms for her.

the second she practically slumps her body on yours, and you rest one of your hands on her back, and the other instantly goes to her hair, she breaks. quiet and reserved abby cries in your arms when you, the first person to see her like this, thread your fingers through her hair, whispering against her forehead how she’s still so effortlessly beautiful. she doesn’t say anything though, she doesn’t have to, she just lets you comfortingly scratch her scalp at crazy hours of the night because you know she’s struggling to fall asleep peacefully.

“m’not gonna let anything or anyone hurt you ever again, okay?” you promised. hand slowly rubbing comforting circles on her back under her bed shirt. “you’re both safe here. i promise to protect you both with my life. you are safe, everything is okay”

for the first time in years, abby could finally close her eyes that night. both her and lev were safe. the safest she’s felt in a long time. because with your arms around her, and lips against her forehead in a hushed promise that you were here for her, she felt better. she felt content. she felt at home. 

your promise of protection meant more to her than she could ever tell or show you.

[starlightazriel]

bee 11

desc: modern bestfriends > lovers (femreader) (tattoo artist az)

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol addiction/recovery, reader overthinking/insecure/depressed, jealousy, archeron sisters have entered the chat, angst, fluff, co-dependence(and all the trauma that comes with it),

wc: 4.2k

a/n: wow i'm so sorry this took so long as some of you know i been going through some things anyyyway we've come so far since the beginning myyy goodness, as much as I love sober az I already miss the az who was doing a line before a tattoo, but alas after all the drama last time I hope this makes up for it <3 kisses xoxox

other parts on my az masterlist

eleven

Sixty days.

Sixty days of loneliness.

Sixty days of an empty house.

Sixty days of overthinking.

Sixty days of gut wrenching anxiety.

Sixty days of no contact.

Sixty days of not hearing his voice.

It had been my idea, the whole no contact, and now, it felt like it had been the worst fucking idea in the world. Facing him now seemed impossible. Would he look different? Would he be different?

Fucking idiot. Do you know how much can change in sixty days? Sober Ariel won't even want you.

It had been maybe a week in when the seed of doubt had blossomed in my gut. The regret for the dumb idea that space was the best thing for our relationships, time to figure ourselves out so we could add to each others lives— instead of depending on each other. Him, needing me, me needing to be needed.

It was such a fine line between give and take and I had offered every last piece of myself to him without a hesitation. With him gone, with him healing, getting better... What would he need me for? What was I supposed to do with myself? School was hardly distracting, and finals coming up should have helped but only made it worse.

Rhys and Cass had visited him, a few times, they had also gone on another Vegas trip, without him obviously, apartment hunting. That did nothing to soothe my gut either, that was real. It was happening in mere months they were moving to Vegas. Neither did the way they all stopped talking about him when I was around, did he tell them something? Did he tell them he was going to break it off with me for good when he got home? Or did my friends really think I was that fragile? That I couldn't even handle hearing about him?

'I would let Rhys sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this city without you.' his previous words echoed in my mind, I had been so sure he meant it when he'd said that to me, so sure that I would never be alone again.

And of course I wanted him to get clean, but somehow, everything felt different now. I wasn't so sure of anything anymore. Would he still feel the same way?

I hadn't even looked into transferring schools. He had told me to, before he left... But doing that made everything more real, and what if he changed his mind when he saw me again?

He wouldn't be in a drug clouded haze anymore. He wouldn't need me anymore, not the way that I needed him.

And I wouldn't even get any alone time with him, not immediately. Rhys was throwing a little get together for him, he was so proud, they were all so proud of him.

I hated that I wasnt as proud as everyone else when I should be the most proud, I hated that I was afraid of the new Azriel. There would be nothing for me to fix anymore.

With every waking moment that passed my anxiety and insecurity grew. Getting ready for his 'sober party' seemed surreal to me, it only created more doubts in my mind. I mean, had Azriel, my Az, really agreed to that? Even as a sober version of himself— it seemed doubtful.

-

Sixty days.

Sixty days of detoxing his mind, body, and soul.

Sixty days of boring meals.

Sixty days of therapy multiple times a week.

Sixty days of sharing his darkest side with complete strangers.

Sixty days of uncomfortable beds and scratchy sheets.

Sixty days of living in sweat pants because it was all he had packed.

Sixty days of heart stopping guilt and revelations about himself and his behavior.

Sixty days of torturous inescapable demons that seemed to be at war in his mind.

Sixty days of not hearing her voice.

The moment she had told him she didn't want to talk to him while he was in rehab, he had wanted to stay. Give up the idea entirely and quit on his own accord. He didn't though, he went. And it wasn't only for her. No, it was for him too. And he thought maybe it was valid, maybe they did need space, time away to clear their minds and have a true fresh start. He could do things right this time.

And now, with his head clear, he was happy he had gone. He felt stronger, in his mind and body. It had been a lot, a lot of facing things that had happened in his childhood that he had never dared to face before. Things he didnt have to face when drugs and alcohol had been his safety net for so many years. He realized he didnt need substances to deal with those things, his traumas didnt make him weak or vulnerable, they made him stronger.

He did recognize his problem, and he couldn't say for sure that he would never touch the bottle or snort a line ever again because that was just unrealistic. He was only human and he would do his absolute best to be a good man, for himself.

For Bee too. If she still wanted anything to do with him, the silence between them was the loudest one he'd ever felt, even miles away.

Bee.

His lover. His everything.

There was nothing that could get in the way anymore, he hadn't realized until now how much his addictions had been separating him from her. And of course he had gotten off it before but never without alcohol to help him along. He had never been so fucking deep into his addictions, had never gone that crazy. What he had done was completely unacceptable and now he could only hope for the best when he saw her. A party thrown by Rhys and his girlfriend hadn't been his ideal meeting place... But it had been completely sprung on him. Him being in rehab wasnt a secret, but that didn't mean he wanted to advertise it. Rhys had promised it was a very small get together, just something to show their support. 'No pictures.' Azriel had been sure to clear that up with him. The party was supposed to be a surprise, luckily for Az, Rhys knew him better than that.

-

Rhys and his new girlfriend had out done themselves along with the help of Mor who had told me this morning when she arrived in town that she wouldn't have missed this for the world. 'I mean, Azriel sober? I have to see it for myself and support,' she had said over coffees earlier, I had gotten quiet, I knew I could have talked to her about how I was feeling. But it felt wrong, it was embarrassing to say the least. I didnt think she would understand, either.

Rhys' place was decked out, balloons everywhere, charcuterie and little desserts lined both of the large tables, there was a mocktail station and a coffee station where she had also decorated Rhys' coffee pot, another table had a 'fill your own cone' bud bar that included a big jar full of Azriels favorite cigarettes as well. Her theme was 'Sober & Slaying' and there were banners and balloons to match. My heart had swelled the moment I had entered the apartment and part of me felt a little guilty for not getting here earlier. I hadn't been doing much of anything though, I wasn't eating right, I wasn't sleeping right, my thoughts and fears and insecurities had been practically eating me alive. They hadn't even asked me to help with set up, simply to show up on time, I at least had arrived twenty minutes early.

"Oh good! You're here, will you help me with this last mocktail?" Feyre beams after she had pulled me into a quick hug. She was very sweet although a bit reserved at first she had warmed up to me quickly. She was setting up some last minute decorations, I was early, of course, my anxious gut hadn't allowed me to sit at home a moment longer.

Part of me was hoping this new relationship would entice Rhys to stay a little bit longer, but they were already talking about going long distance until Feyre was ready to take the leap and move to Vegas. Seemed awfully soon to even be talking about it to me, but I wasn't one to judge, they did seem madly in love nearly instantly, and Rhys was, different. Nicer even.

"Yeah of course," I flashed her a grin and tasted the mocktail she was working on before I added some more of the homemade blueberry simple syrup she had made. "So good," I hummed in approval once I had tasted it again.

"So like, will this be the first time you and Az speak?" Mor tries to make it sound as casual as possible, my eyes focus intently as I transferred the mocktail to the aesthetically pleasing drink dispensers Feyre had put out.

"Um yeah, I haven't seen him or spoke to him since the night before he left," I shrugged, my eyes not lifting once. It had been quite the emotional night, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"I visited him once, he looks really good," she responded and I couldn't stop the jealous pang that hit my gut. Space. We had decided space was the right thing for us, a reset to our relationship after everything we had been through. My dumb idea, but he had agreed. I only smiled in response, and was glad when Cassian arrived with a cake in hand, his loud greeting drew all the attention away from me. Bless him. I found a corner to sit in, a quiet corner with my phone and one of the mocktails Feyre had made. A few more arrived, Feyres sisters, which I had only met a handful of times. Why were they here? Az didn't know them, did he? The only way that was possible would be if Rhys had brought them for one of his visits— the mocktail felt sour in my stomach and I felt more than relieved when Kat finally arrived and joined me in my corner.

"Hi love, how you holding up?" Kat had been very supportive through this entire rehab thing, and was making my loneliness nearly bearable.

"I'm fine, really, just coping with all of— all of the emotions of all the sudden change I guess," I shrug easily, Kat was the only one I had really felt comfortable to tell my true feelings to. She was the only one I knew that wouldn't judge. She nodded in understanding, making herself comfortable in her seat.

"That's valid, it's a lot to take in girl," She begins and I'm relieved when she can't continue because Cassian is all but shouting a second later.

"He's coming up he texted me a few minutes ago," Cassians voice drowns out the chatter around the room and I feel my insides go to liquid, my throat feeling tight and constricted.

My heart stopped when I finally laid my eyes on him. Impossibly sexier. His face was more full, color in his cheeks, a sparkle in his eye I hadn't seen since we were kids, he stood straighter, making him look impossibly taller, shoulders spread, oozing with a confidence I hadn't seen in a long time. My gut twisted, my heart picking up, a steady hammer against my chest. I held my breath when our eyes met, his face fell as he scanned me from across the room and I wanted nothing more than to drop into the hole in the floor. It wasn't exactly the reaction I'd been hoping for. I knew I looked awful— but shit, we hadn't seen each other in two months.

"Azriel, it's nice to see you again," Elain is the first person in front of him she's loud enough to hear across the room, her sing song voice carrying, and I try to ignore it but my eyes are glued to his, and he has to tear his away from mine.

"So what, Rhys took Feyre and her random sisters to see Az in rehab?" I drop my voice, forcing myself to look away, to tune out their conversation to the best of my abilities. Kat bit her lip, a notable guilty blush creeping across her cheeks.

"I um.. I was there too," she admits, twirling her hair around her finger, I squint slightly. She could have at least told me that. "It was a last minute thing," she explained quickly, my expression probably throwing her off. I was jealous, I couldn't deny that— I had no one to blame but myself. If I'd never been so set on having space away from eachother... My blood heated, she was gorgeous, just the type that Azriel would go for to. "They just happened to be there and we made a group trip of it— and yeah, I didn't think you'd want to know, considering..." she trailed off and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Yeah, I don't mind at all," I would have rather jumped off of the balcony than have this conversation, I shouldn't have asked. The FOMO was certainly real and I wondered if that's why they were constantly all whispers when talking about Azriel, to spare me of that feeling.

"Youre not imagining her googly eyes though," she scoffs as she glances back over at them and then to me mocking a gag, I smirked a little bit glancing back at them once more and then to Kat again. She was for sure laying it on thick with the sweet tone and all of the unnecessary blinks. I didnt remember that about the first few times I met her.

"I mean I can't even blame her— he looks..." I trailed off searching for the right word, he looked amazing, delicious, sexier than he'd ever had before. He was practically glowing with whatever newfound confidence he'd gained from facing his many demons.

"I know that's your man but he looks hot," she finishes for me and we giggle together, I ignored the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach that maybe he wasnt my man anymore.

"That he does," I sigh, twirling my straw around in my cup, suddenly I regretted not sneaking a few nips into my purse. I wouldn't get drunk at a sober party, I wouldn't, but something to take the edge off would be nice, and a joint didn't seem like the right option.

I effectively avoided Azriel for at least an hour, I hadn't been keeping track of time but it felt like it had been at least that long. I wasnt ready for a conversation, not when one look at him made my heart stop.

My stomach was growling, and I needed a snack. I was carefully piling charcuterie onto my plate when I jumped and nearly dropped the whole thing.

"Youre avoiding me, and youre doing a good job for how small the space is," his voice is the same one I remember, low and gravelly and sexy.

"Im not," I insist, just hoping he hadn't noticed the way I visibly jumped at the sound of his voice.

"I think I know when my girlfriend is avoiding me," he left a heavy emphasis on the word, looking at me expectantly as if he was daring me to challenge his claim on our relationship status. Relief washed over me, a tension that I hadn't been able to ease since the last time I saw him.

"Its just— Its been a lot I don't know, and having this conversation here... Seems like a lot too," I took a step back from the table but turned around to face him, I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching us, it only made me more uncomfortable.

"Are you eating?" its a direct question, soft but firm, his eyes scanning over every inch of me. My stomach flips, my cheeks reddening.

"Yes," I lift the small plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit as if that proved anything.

"Hm," he doesn't seem satisfied with my answer, his eyes not leaving me for a second.

"You look good Az, you look different," I chewed the inside of my lip, hoping my anxiousness didnt bleed into my words.

"Im still me baby im just better," that same confident smirk spreads across his lips, I knew it well but somehow- there was a different spark behind it. Something all those drugs had dimmed. A light I hadn't seen in a while. "For example, Im not gonna nod off on the couch anymore because Ive had a handle to myself for two days straight and Im hours off a two week coke bender," he said it so casually and leave it to Azriel to make a joke out of it. "From now on," his voice drops as if he knew they were all listening, I felt Elain's curious eyes on us and I knew she was trying to catch every word. Sorry, hes mine. "I won't fall asleep without making sure you are fed, fucked, and tucked into bed."

I blush, looking away from his stare, something in my gut eases but the anxiety is still settled there.

"And Im sorry, for each and every time I failed you. Im clear headed now and—" he cuts himself off, and maybe it was the look on my face that stopped him. "Would you feel better if we went outside?" he nods to the balcony, I quickly nod, desperate to be alone with him and not on display like some soap that they were all watching.

"Please, its. little stuffy in here," my words are a little rushed, and they were true, I felt like I could barely breathe anymore. And I was making a complete idiot out of myself when Azriel hadn't seen me in two months. I feel his hand on my back and he guides me out onto Rhys balcony, I don't look back again, I lean up against the balcony, resting my elbow on the railing and sucking in a deep breath of fresh air before popping one of the pieces of cheese into my mouth.

Azriel joins me after he had shut the door behind us, leaning up against the balcony next to me and he lit up a joint he had gotten off of the bud bar.

"Did you tell your psychiatrist you were going to smoke?" I ask casually, trying to change the subject into something else. Anything else but our relationship, I shouldn't be worried, he had already said I was still his girlfriend.

"Yes," he shrugged, taking another drag from it, I could feel his eyes on me as I set my plate down on the nearby table. I had barely touched it.

"And what did they say?" I ask, quirking a brow as I take it from him, it was annoying that I was more at ease now, normal territory, I didnt like the way sober Az could see right through me, I had thought he was able to before, and now?

He shrugged again, watching me. "Why are you trying to avoid talking about us?" he reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear so I can't hide from him, my breath catches. He took the joint back, taking one more long drag before putting it out. I shook my head, I couldn't find the right words. He grabs my wrist gently and turns me around so my back is against the railing, his body so close, the scent of his cologne slamming into my senses. "Why?" he repeats, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light, his voice is soft and careful.

"I— I don't know Az," I breathe out, my heart felt like it would pound out of my chest. "It's just I—" I look away, unable to meet his gaze when I feel the word vomit coming. "Im afraid, Azriel. I am. And I know it's fucked up because I shouldn't be. I feel sick, sick with myself that I have been more worried about whether or not you would still want me when you got back than I have about you and your actual recovery. Ive been worried about you being different and not needing me and I know Im so fucked up for that there's something wrong with me and Im sorry—"

"Hey, hey, stop, breathe for a second," he interrupts me, a small sigh leaving his lips as he places both of his hands on my cheeks, lifting my face to look at him and he gently wipes away my shameful tears with his rough thumbs, the feeling makes my spine tingle. "Don't feel bad for anything that you feel or have felt in these past weeks," he assures me, one of his thumbs still gently rubbing against my cheek, his eyes burning into mine. "I— I created that for you, that whole thinking you need to be needed by me. I created this... Trauma bond, I know that now, I know that I made our relationship toxic. It's not your fault, I hadn't dealt with any of my shit and I basically put it on to you. Im sorry, Im sorry you felt like that at all and I wish..." he sighed softly, one of his hands fell to my waist. "I wish I had the courage to call you, because I wanted to so many times, but I didnt think you'd want to talk to me. You needed space and I had to respect that but seeing you now, seeing you haven't been taking care of yourself like you should have. I should have been there for you," he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I know where I fucked up, I know what kind of damage Ive done, this only proves it," he brushed his finger over the dark circle underneath my eye. "I love you, I love you so much, maybe too much sometimes," he sighs again, I fight the urge to close my eyes and lean into his touch.

"Az I love you too," I breathe out because Im stunned into silence. Everything hes said, his accountability, his words, they felt like they were crashing into me.

"Im not going to leave you like that ever again," he promised, and took a step closer, pressing his body into mine. He felt stronger, more solid. It was almost like he had left a boy and returned a man. "You are going to be my wife some day, you are the fucking definition of ride or die Bee, I swear, for the last two months the more clear my head got I just realized one thing over and fucking over," he wasnt afraid, he had absolutely no hesitations, every single word felt like a promise, and I felt like my heart was palpitating. "I hit the fucking jack pot with you, and I fear the smartest thing that Ive ever done in my life was share my favorite candy with the girl across the street."

My cheeks are burning, tears streaming, but they aren't sad, just emotional. I don't know what else to do, my words are caught in my throat so I kissed him. I pulled him down, my fingers tugging in the hairs at the nap of his neck, our tongues tangling perfectly like they always had. He was mine, still my Az, better, better like he had said. He was right. A soft groan escaped his lips, my stomach flipped at the sound, the thought of how he would have his way with me later after so many days apart. My body melted into his at the thought, our hungry kiss only escalating. Our desperate need for each other matching perfectly, our emotions pouring into the heated kiss. I tilted my head his lips traveling down my jaw and across my neck, settling behind my ear and gently sucking. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, I moaned his name softly, my body feeling like a hot puddle.

"Hmm?" he hummed against my skin, his hand had slipped under my dress where he was rubbing soft circles on the least sensitive part of my thigh, somehow it was still driving me mad.

"We, we should go in now... They are going to be wondering whats taking us so long," I breathed out, I couldn't even see past Azriel into the house, I was sure they could see us though, or at least see Azriel pinning me against the railing.

"They should have known better than to throw me a party when I haven't seen my baby in sixty whole days, and they definitely should have known better than to let you wear this dress," he tugs lightly at the fabric. "They should have known Id need alone time with you," his eyes glimmered with mischief. "I have a lot of making up to do," he added, tracing his scarred finger over my jawline.

"I hated this idea more than you Im sure," I admitted guiltily, biting down on my lip. "But they worked really hard Az," I tried to peek around him to see inside again, he only shifted to block my view.

"Fine, but five more minutes," he smirked, tilting my chin up again.

"Five more minutes," I whispered breathlessly before he crashed his lips onto mine again, and I felt all of my anxiety melt away, as if he was pulling it from me.

And I felt safe.

Home.

Safe.

-

taglist <3:

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx @lorosette @kayjaywrites

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

How would the RO's change if they were to lose their MC?

Warning: this answer is a heavy one, with mentions of tw: suicide. Proceed with caution.

Morkai: He'd turn somber and silent. Eerily so. The man of loud voice and even louder heart would be gone, buried under a shroud of his own grief. When the MC left, they took all the animation out of him with them. Mute and empty-eyed, he waits for the final bow.

Straasa: He'd become withdrawn and reclusive. Social contact sustains him, but the one he wants is gone. Anything else feels hollow, fake, a betrayal. So he hides himself behind a brittle smile and a veil of snow around his heart. He aches for the day he will finally be reunited with the only one who can make the snow melt.

Daelynn: She does not allow herself to feel it or comprehend it. She does not allow time to force her to face it..... What is knowledge, truth, if you don't have the time or capacity to parse their meaning? She ends the conversation before reality settles in. This is pretty dark, but...Daelynn would follow right after her MC.

Eledwen: She is tired. Tired of being strong, tired of always moving forward. Tired of being alone. So, she loses herself in the memories. Time to move back. She will wander among the places of the past, places from her and the MC's life together. An unending tribute to the love she lost, her feet forever staying in motion.

Manerkol: Nothing matters anymore. Not his purpose, not kingdoms, neither dragons nor mortals. At the end of a very dark tunnel, his MC brought in the light. They were the only thing that mattered. And they're gone. So Manerkol will now keep the promise he once made to them. Wherever you go, I will follow.

Sielthan: Sielthan knows how to bring the MC back. They know the cost for it. And they're willing to pay it. Whatever they have to become, whatever they have to turn the MC into--it doesn't matter. They'll take the smallest crumb over losing the MC altogether. You can be broken and twisted together.

Rai: They become arrested in time. Frozen forever in the place when realization settled in. When they realized their MC is gone. They would withdraw. Foreswear any meaningful contact with others. Lose themself in work until they are ground to dust. Not because they care, but because it's the only way to forget.

Mornie: Any pretense at humanity would be gone. Sheer, unadulterated fury would cover everything, red and sticky and murderous. She goes on a killing spree and does not stop shredding, does not allow for anything but death--for them, for her. It is the only future left for any of them. If she lives long enough to weep, she eventually crumbles and sobs until she meets her end.

Cy: They would lose all reason. All their grand plans--everything crumbles. Feral and near delirious, they'd try anything to bring the MC back. They'd sacrifice the world to do it. There is no price they are not willing to pay. And if all fails, they follow after their MC.

Zach: They would feel like they've lost the ground beneath their feet, survived a train collision, and become a ship left ruderless. All their unshakeable confidence and passion--extinguished. All their grand works, a heap at their feet. They turn grey and old and cold. And they learn to hate.

[hayakawalove]

Valentine's Day

A/N: Will I ever stop writing poly satosugu? No. No I won't.

Summary: You had been with your two boyfriends for years, and each February they brought a smile to your face. This year seems a bit different although.

TW: Smut, polyamory, choking, AFAB reader, female reader, alcohol mention, alcohol

W/C: 5,664

Your boyfriends were theatrical, Satoru especially. Suguru, if given the chance, much preferred to do things under the radar and special. But then again he was not above putting on a show for you. Especially if Satoru was involved. 

Because of this, it kind of surprised you when neither of them mentioned Valentine’s Day. It was the 12th already and so far there had been no mention of the holiday. You thought it might be because they were busy, but that didn’t mean they would forget, right? You knew you could have said something, but the boys usually planned things. Because of that, you didn’t want to get in the way of anything. So you decided to be discreet about it. You wandered into the kitchen and found them both sitting at the table, meager discussion floating from their lips. 

“Hey.” You murmur, fiddling around the kitchen. 

“Hi bunny!” 

“Hey baby.” 

Your eyes flick up and notice the two giving you smiles. Satoru’s eyes brightening up significantly, his smile akin to something like the sun. Suguru’s head tilted, his grin matching something much more graceful. The moon perhaps. Your sun and moon. You supposed that made you their stars, didn’t it? 

You narrow your eyes before looking down at a spare cup. 

“What do you guys wanna do this week?” You ask, hoping not to be too obvious. 

You fill your cup up with water and lean against the counter. 

“Oh, there was that new movie I was telling you guys about. It comes out on Tuesday.” Satoru thinks out loud. 

“Whatever you want to do baby.” Suguru responds with a tight lip smile, his eyes gently closed. 

Had they really not had anything planned? It was odd, but you didn’t want to push it. 

It wasn’t like you particularly minded doing nothing for Valentine’s Day this year.

That’s what you told yourself at least. 

It was finally Valentine’s Day and you had willfully resigned. This year you were just not going to do anything, and you tried convincing yourself it was okay. You requested the day off in advance, figuring that something would be planned, but it didn’t seem needed anymore. So, you were going to use the day to do nothing. 

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty besides you. You had long gotten used to the feeling of your bed being filled to the brim, hot and stuffy after a long night's sleep with multiple bodies. Not seeing the two boneheads made you sad. 

Your eyes float over to the corner of the room, where you stuffed each other their Valentine’s Day gifts underneath a pile of your clothes. Even if you weren’t going to be doing anything today, you still wanted to surprise them with it. 

You get out of bed and patter around the house trying to see if they were anywhere else. Much to your dismay, the house was empty. 

Your stomach grumbles while you pad your way to the kitchen. Normally, Suguru would be whipping up a storm in there while Satoru sat nearby to pester him. The kitchen was empty today, much to your chagrin. With a sigh, you grab leftovers and sit on a stool, flicking your phone open once you see Satoru’s name pop up. 

“Hey! Thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

“Might’ve if I wasn’t alone.” You grumble. 

You hear Satoru chuckle and you look at your food distatefully. The conglomerate of leftovers suddenly becoming the most unappealing thing in the world to you. 

“Poor bunny.” 

“Where are you both anyway?” 

The line is quiet for a second as if Satoru was speaking to someone. 

“Just had to pick up a few things for tonight.” 

“Okay. Will you make sure to get milk too? We’re out.” 

The line cuts to silence once more which confuses you. Usually Satoru had a lot to say, normally you had a hard time getting any words in during a phone call with him. After a couple seconds of silence and what sounds like the phone being muffled, his cheery voice comes back. You and Satoru begin talking again before something rouses you from the conversation. Your doorbell jolts you from the call, but you quickly glaze over it. 

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” He asks. 

“No, probably has the wrong address.” You say and pick at your nails. 

“I'm not so sure.” 

For the sake of entertaining him, you hop off your chair and make your way to the door. Once you open it, you find a black shopping bag on the ground. You look at it in confusion before leaning down to pick it up. 

“Yeah, no, this definitely is the wrong house.” 

Satoru sighs loudly causing you to pull the phone away. 

“Just look in the bag!” He complains like a child. 

“Alright alright.” You sigh before shutting the door, lugging the bag inside. 

Usually you wouldn’t put up much of a fight, but today you were less than amused. 

Once you arrive to your room, you plop the bag down on your bed and rummage through it. There was a white card on the top, peaking your interest. Your name was scrawled in gold on the front, the font looking much too fancy, as well as text on the other side. It read, “Your treasure awaits”. 

Your heart begins to pick up. Satoru was on the line still, but there was no noise coming from him. With shaky hands you open the bag more, finding something else. As you pull it out you notice it’s a tight black dress, exactly your size. At the bottom of the bag there was another white card. On the front end it said “Suguru’s favorite place.” Flipping it over you see what’s written on the back. “You slid into my heart.” 

“Satoru, what is all this?” You question. 

“Looks like you have to find out.” He says joyfully, clicking the line, leaving your mind reeling. 

You pull the dress on and look at yourself in the mirror. It looked really good on you. The boys really enjoyed picking out outfits for you, flaunting you like their own dress up doll. You didn’t mind really, not when they always paid for it. You hold the card in your hand, eyes flicking back and forth over the lettering. Suguru’s favorite place? He wasn’t very picky, he enjoyed lots of places. 

Suguru really enjoyed the museum, you knew that. Images of him walking beside you, reading you all the placards filled your brain. He also liked the cafe that was nestled between stores several streets over. None of those made sense with the clue, though. 

With a deep breath you close your eyes and think back. Each thought brought you back to one place. A park he liked seeing. 

You stuff their gifts in a bag before setting off. 

It was a quaint park. The grass was always green and there was a large field that families enjoyed picnicking at. Off to the side was a playground for children, a long plastic slide crossing the play area. You journey to the playground, eagerly walking to the slide, thinking back to the note that was left in the bag. You see another small bag on the slide and your stomach twists in excitement. 

Opening the bag you notice a small box and another note. The note reads “Satoru’s sweet treats” and on the back says “I’m such a nerd for you”. You chuckle to yourself and open the box, seeing a bright necklace packaged inside. The chain was dainty and it held a diamond at the very end, one that shined brightly in the sun. It was hard getting the necklace on on your own, but you were able to manage after a couple minutes. 

The next location wasn’t any easier to figure out. Satoru had many places he liked going to for sweets, so it was hard to narrow down. 

You think you understood the game now. There would be a present at each location with a card hinting at the next spot. You couldn’t help but notice how the game was so very like the two men. Cheeky, but swirling with romance. 

You had no idea why you were so worried they had forgotten the date. 

After much inner debate you decided to go to his favorite candy store. It was fairly decent in size as it had to accompany the wide range of treats stored inside. It looked mostly empty when you entered, rows of colorful concoctions lining the walls. Your legs carry you down the aisles while you think back to the hint on the card. It made you want to check for their selection of nerds and sure enough, there was another bag nestled between boxes. This time it was filled with a bracelet, matching your necklace. The employees blush and comment to each other when you walk up, requesting help for your bracelet. They wished you a happy Valentine’s Day and you’re left to exit the store. The idea of Satoru and Suguru coming inside to hide your gift and explaining to the workers what they were doing made you chuckle to yourself. 

The day continued much like that, each time you were led across town to find more gifts. The final note was the most confusing. All it said was “back to where it all began” without any other clues on the back side. You thought back to where you and the two had spent your first date. It was a secluded forest, a canopy of trees surrounding the three of you. You remember Satoru laying on his back, Suguru reclined with his hands keeping him up behind him, and you sitting with your legs crossed. You talked for hours. 

Once arriving, you find the last bag. Inside was a hair clip, donning an amethyst and a turquoise. The two men fit so well together it was no wonder their birthstones did as well. The card inside the bag only had a phone number on it, so you flipped open your phone to dial it. A nice man answered, asking if you were Satoru’s and Suguru’s girlfriend. With a blush you confirm, hearing an engine starting on the other end. He told you he would be there shortly to pick you up. 

This game was fun, and you really enjoyed all your gifts, but you were hoping you would be seeing Satoru and Suguru soon. Material items were nice, but they meant nothing if your partners weren't there by your side. 

The car ride was relatively short but still felt extremely glamourous. You rode in a black sleek car, cushions softer than any other vehicle you had been in before. The driver drops you off at a five star hotel, bidding you a farewell before speeding off. You get the room number from the front desk and rush to the room. You nervously look at the door in front of you before knocking on it gently. While you wait, you bounce on your toes and heels and let your mind wander. The game had lasted hours, and your nerves were about to swallow you whole. 

The door swings open, the force making your eyes widen in surprise. Satoru stood there in a white button up, eyes wide and frantic. 

“Hey.” You speak, your eyes slowly trailing across his body. 

Satoru’s hand flies out and grabs you, pulling you into the room. Your back is pressed against a wall and his lips are on yours. Part of you wanted to tell him to slow down, but the way his mouth felt against yours had your mind swimming. 

Satoru’s tongue glides out, sliding against your bottom lip before you part your mouth open. His hands roam across your body, not settling anywhere for too long. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating and somehow not enough. 

More, you needed more. If it was possible to fuse souls you were sure you would’ve by now. 

Your hands clutch his shirt, if it wasn’t as expensive as it was there was a real chance you would’ve torn it. 

“Satoru, I was only gone for five minutes.” A familiar voice speaks behind Satoru. 

He pulls his lips from yours and stares deeply into your eyes, the tension palpable. 

“Couldn't resist.” Satoru speaks, his tone heavy. 

He pulls away from you and you feel yourself deflate, body aching for more. 

“Our girl is just too beautiful.” 

Satoru pulls you away from the wall, presenting you to Suguru. His hands hold your waist still while his chin rests on your shoulder. 

You look at the man in front of you. Suguru was dressed in a black button up, his hair swept up into a bun. His fox eyes slowly slide down your body, taking you in. 

“You look beautiful baby.” Velvet words grace your ears. 

After all this time, still, still he made your heart flutter. 

He takes a step forward, lifting up your hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours, before pulling your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day princess.” 

Suguru’s words float over to you, but you’re almost too distracted by the both of them to fully understand what he said. 

“Thought you guys might’ve forgotten.” 

Suguru pulls you away from Satoru and further into the room, and you notice a table in the middle of it. There were two candles placed on top, with three plates spaced evenly. Only now do you recognize a heavenly scent filling the room. 

“Us? Forget Valentine’s Day?” Satoru laughs, pulling your chair out for you. 

Satoru sits in one of the chairs opposite you, watching as you take everything in. 

“It’s possible! I was about ready to order take out all by myself and watch the notebook on repeat.”

“Unfortunately you’re stuck with us.” Suguru graces you with a small grin. 

“What’s for dinner?” You ask, watching Suguru carefully lift off the lid over your plate, then moving on to remove his and Satoru’s. 

“Steak! Although Suguru insisted on making it himself.” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow at Satoru before sitting down next to him. Scents from the meal slowly waft up to your nose, making your stomach grumble. 

“I’m pretty sure you told me you liked my cooking better than anyone else’s.”

“And you caved immediately!” Satoru responds cheekily, making Suguru huff in annoyance. 

Suguru was stuck trying to defend himself while you and Satoru were ignoring him, beginning to cut your steak. He eventually gave up, grumbling to himself before popping open a bottle of champagne. 

“You should’ve seen him. He was running around the big fancy kitchen trying to prepare everything. I wish I caught it on tape. Do you think I could ask the hotel for their security footage?” Satoru rambles, popping a piece of steak in his mouth. 

“I can picture it perfectly. How’d they let you in anyway?” 

“Satoru bought their silence, he’s a sneaky dog.” Suguru answers, pouring champagne into both of your glasses, purposefully avoiding Satoru’s. 

The meal tasted just as wonderfully as you could’ve imagined. It melted on your tongue, Suguru’s cooking never failing to amaze you. You were glad that Satoru convinced him to cook. You had fun eating at restaurants with them, but nothing quite compared to Suguru’s cooking. 

“How long do we have the room for?” You ask, looking around at the wide open space. 

You had never been in such a fancy hotel before, you didn’t even wanna know how much one night costed. 

“Satoru just gave them his card so we can stay for as long as we like.” 

“Is there anything your money can’t buy?” You cast a look over to Satoru who was happily humming while eating. 

“Nope!” 

The rest of the meal you and Suguru poke fun at Satoru, teasing him for treating money so fickly. Your laughter filled the room, making it feel even more homey when paired with the food. 

Then again, you were sure anywhere would be home as long as they were with you. 

Champagne flowed through your veins and you swore the bubbles did too. It felt like your skin was burst alight, your body floating on happiness. 

You hum and reach out a hand, grabbing onto Satoru’s hand. 

“Wanna dance.” 

His eyes light up at your request and he turns to Suguru. The two men share a look before Satoru is hopping out of his chair, quickly heading towards you. The air of excitement he held only floated over to you, raising you up even higher. 

You felt so good. 

You kick off your heels and tiptoe carefully to the middle of the room. Satoru’s arms latch onto you, getting in position. It wasn’t long before Suguru strolled over to sit on the bed and watch, his phone held tightly in his hand while he played music. 

You couldn’t follow the beat even if you tried, luckily Satoru was there to guide you through it. He teases you, his airy laughter tickling your ear. You could feel Suguru’s gaze on the both of you as he watched his lovers sway back and forth. Satoru’s body felt warm pressed against yours, his firm hand gripping your lower back. 

Suguru leaned back and continued to leisurely sip from his glass, affection pouring over his features. He was thinking back to your earlier conversation. Could you really think they would have forgotten? Never in a million years would they forget you. 

The room was spinning. No, wait, shit, were you spinning? You didn’t care. Your laughter echoes off the walls as you stand on your tiptoes to attempt to reach Satoru’s height. 

You stop for a breather, hand clutched tightly in Satoru’s shirt. Suguru excuses himself to remove the plates of food, wanting to clear up space. 

“That was so much fun.” You say breathlessly. 

“Yeah? Want to have some more fun?” 

You arch a brow but your question was answered before you could even ask it. Satoru had backed you up against the bed, making you collapse on it. You pull him down with you, relishing in the feeling of his full body weight against yours. 

“Yes.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, fanning the flames under your skin. You could tell he was restraining himself a bit, his hand clutched tightly next to your head. 

“Touch me, Satoru.” Your words leaked desperation.

“Fuck, don’t say that. We gotta wait for Suguru.” His actions don’t align with his words. 

His tongue caresses against yours, his skin tingling once his tongue dips into your mouth. He had kissed your mouth billions of times, but each time he did he swore there was new territory for him to mark and explore. 

“Can’t keep your hands to yourself tonight, Satoru.” Suguru chides from behind him. 

Satoru pulls away and you feel an ache underneath your lips, begging for his lips once more. 

“She started it.” 

“Yes, we do have a needy girl on our hands, don’t we?” 

Satoru moves out of the way, exposing Suguru to you. Your breath hitches at the sinful expression he holds while staring down at you. 

His hands reach out to grab you, pulling you up to stand. His presence is overwhelming as he turns you around, pressing you against the empty table. You follow his motions to guide you down, his lips ghosting over your skin. 

“Look so wonderful for us darling.” His words muffle against your skin as he places chaste kisses against your neck. 

You can feel yourself shake beneath him, desperate for more. He was teasing you, but what kept you through it was knowing how satisfying everything would be once he deemed it time. 

“Need it Suguru.” You whimper, fingers dug into his shoulders. 

The heated atmosphere shifts, now drowning you in a lake of fire. Suguru pulls you up from the table and makes you lay on the bed. Your skin is prickling in anticipation, staring up at him. He leans down to press his lips against yours, quelling the fire inside. His tongue feels plush against yours as he drags it through your mouth. Suguru pushes your dress up to pull it off your head, only parting from your mouth to get out of the way. His tongue glides against yours and you taste the bitter bite of the drink, and you wondered if you could get intoxicated off the taste of it alone. Then again, you could always get drunk on him. 

Suguru pulls back and kneels against the bed, spreading your legs open for him. He dips his head down, pulling your underwear off you at an agnoizing pace. Satoru whistles, causing you to snap your head up to look at where their gaze lay. Your underwear peeled from your pussy, strings of need attaching to it. 

“Fuck.” Suguru whispers under his breath as he glides the clothing down your thighs. 

You’re suddenly filled with insecurity, wanting to close your legs. Their eyes stared deep into you, mesmerized by your lust. 

“Don’t just look…” You whimper. 

Suguru refocuses himself and smiles, trailing fingers up your thighs to spread you out. 

“My apologies princess.” 

You want to scoff but the noise doesn’t make it out of your throat in time before a whimper escapes. You can feel the eagerness building up inside you as his lips ghost over you. The first time you feel his tongue press against you, you let out a guttural moan. It appeases Suguru, his tongue diving in deeper. He laves it against your clit, tasting the sweet nectar you leaked. You watch as the tendons in his hands flex as he clutches your thighs, bringing you down further against his mouth. 

Your hole clenches pitifully as he pleases you. The warmth of his tongue teases your clit, moving in a circle. 

The bed dips beside you and you see Satoru next to you, his hard cock in his hand. His eyes were glued to the way Suguru devoured you. 

“Satoru.” You say in a whiny voice. 

Precum leaks from his tip like a faucet, the sight making your heart pound. 

You reach up and grab his cock, experimenting with a couple slow strokes. His chest heaves in response, echoes of low moans falling from his lips. 

Suguru wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, your heels digging into his shoulder blades. He could feel the way you trembled beneath him, causing his cock to stiffen below. 

Not yet, this was about you. 

You pick up the pace, tugging Satoru much faster, mind caught between the bliss of Suguru’s mouth and bringing Satoru to the edge. 

“How’s he making you feel bunny?” 

You hang your head back, unable to focus on anything besides the primal desire within you. Suguru’s tongue strokes against you, working you up. 

“Good- so so good.” The words sound foreign coming from you, your throat dry. 

“Gonna cum on his tongue, right?” Satoru asks. 

You moan louder, your thighs a mess of spit and your fluid. 

“Yes, fuck need to cum.” 

You squeeze the tip of his cock before sliding your hand down. Satoru whimpers lowly as he tries to not thrust into the palm of your hand. 

Suguru dips his tongue once, twice, into your hole before bringing it back up, teasing your clit once more. Your mouth hangs open as you look back down at him, truly believing god himself was between your legs. Your legs twitch on either side of his head while you shamelessly grind further into his tongue, so close you could almost taste it. It rushes over you suddenly all at once and you’re cumming on Suguru’s tongue, body thrashing underneath him as he tries to hold you down. It gives him a burst of excitement seeing how you lose yourself beneath him.  

He reluctantly pulls away from you, watching how you glisten below him. You try to regulate your breathing but fail miserably. Heavy hands work their way across your skin, attempting to bring you back down. It looked like the two were exchanging places. Suguru sits next to you on the bed, nudging a piece of your hair out of the way. His eyes were filled with warmth, nothing but admiration and love in the way he looked at you. It almost made you want to shy away from how intense it felt. He looked at you like he didn’t give you an earth shattering orgasm less than a minute ago. 

Satoru’s thighs nudge your legs open wider, bringing your attention back towards him. His hairline was lined with sweat, desperation to feel something, anything corrupting his body. His cock stood at attention, in front of you. 

“Please let me fuck you princess, need it, need you.” His voice sounded helpless. 

You dig your teeth in your lip and nod, eager to feel him inside you. His tip slides down your opening and you force your eyes shut. Pleasure courses through your body, the idea of feeling more made your mind reel.

Satoru slides inside you slowly, his cock beginning to stretch you out. Your mouth hangs open and suddenly you can’t breathe. You could not get enough oxygen. It felt like you were surrounded by their love, surrounded by the lust you three shared. 

He moans, struggling to keep his composure. His fists clench against the bed as he bottoms out completely. 

A moment of silence is shared between you while you appreciate the other, enjoying how each other's skin felt. 

“Ready, bunny?” He asks breathlessly, his patience running thin. 

You nod, trapping his hips in between your legs. 

He thrusts in, starting to fuck you. 

Your moans bounce off the walls around you. You try to grasp onto something, anything to ground yourself. The force of his cock was knocking all the screws loose in your head, you couldn’t think. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he goes. It looked like he might have been mumbling something under his breath. 

Your clit throbs at the neglect, needing to feel pressure. You grab one of Satoru’s hands, guiding it between your legs. 

He lets out what sounds like a breathless chuckle. Taking the hint, he begins to circle your clit with his finger. 

Suguru moves on the bed, kneeling behind your head, his cock above your face. It’s inches away, the mere sight of it making you salivate. 

“Wanna do something for me, beautiful?” He asks.

Your elbows prop up bringing you closer to him. You close your eyes and stick your tongue out, sliding up against his sensitive balls. He grunts lowly above you. Your mouth felt like heaven to him as you carefully suck his balls. 

Satoru picks up the pace, the sight of you pleasing Suguru searing into his brain. He couldn’t focus on all of it at once, it felt like his brain was short circuiting. His hips stutter as he leans forward, desperate to get Suguru’s cock in his mouth. 

Suguru’s chest heaves. The sight in front of him bordered on something holy. His two beautiful partners were in front of him, cherishing his cock. How lucky was he? 

Your mouth gently glides over, paying attention to both sides of Suguru’s delicate flesh. Satoru slides his tongue against Suguru, feeling his cock twitch in his mouth. 

Suguru pulls Satoru off, an audible pop ringing out. Satoru pouts up at Suguru, wanting to suck him off even more. 

“Fuck, you have to stop or I’m gonna cum.” Suguru chastises, his eyebrow twitching. 

You place several kisses around, ignoring him. Only when you feel Satoru start slamming into you harder do you come back to the moment. He holds your hips, keeping you in place as he molds your pussy to his cock. 

You hear lip smacking above you, the sound of Satoru’s moans being muffled against Suguru’s lips. Suguru holds his face steady while his tongue swirls inside Satoru’s mouth. The taste of his own precum mixed with Satoru’s saliva made his brain feel hazy. 

“Feels so good, feels so good!” Satoru pulls apart to chant. 

Suguru smiles as he watches his boyfriend fall apart in front of him. 

“She does, doesn’t she? You should be thanking me Satoru, for allowing you to let you use her first.” 

His words have your pussy clenching around Satoru’s cock, making it borderline impossible for him to keep fucking you. 

Satoru whimpers helplessly, his hands digging into your tender flesh. 

“T-thank you Suguru, thank you!” Satoru’s gulping down oxygen. 

Suguru hums, seemingly placated for now. 

“You’re so welcome.” Sickingly sweet. 

Satoru’s movements lose all rhythm, all reasoning thrown out the window as he chases his high. 

“Gonna cum.” He murmurs, looking down and watching how your body all but sucks him in. 

“Ask for it.” Suguru orders. 

“Please let me cum now, please I can’t, she’s feels so fucking-“ 

Suguru slides two fingers into Satoru’s mouth and he eagerly wraps his hand around his wrist while sucking. 

“What a good boy, of course you can.” 

You feel Satoru’s hips stutter before his cum shoots out inside you. 

Satoru moans loudly, all noises slightly garbled from Suguru’s fingers. Ecstasy fills your veins as you watch the sight above you. Beautiful beautiful men. His cock stills inside you while he pulls off Suguru’s hand. His body weight feels heavy against you as he leans over, pressing soft kisses along your throat. Suguru whisks himself off the bed leaving you only a moment of reprieve before he took Satoru’s place. He spread your pussy and grinned to himself. 

Oh how he and Satoru loved to make a mess out of you. 

“How we feeling pretty girl?” His voice calms your body. 

You can’t find any words to say so you just grumble and wiggle below him. He chuckles before nodding his head, dragging his hands up your body leaving goosebumps trailing behind. 

“So good for us, always so sweet.” He utters praises in between kisses down your chest. 

“Just hold on a little bit longer princess.” 

His tip rubs through your folds and you feel your body react instantly. Suguru pushes the head inside and revels how your back immediately arches up, hands clawing at his exposed chest. 

“Relax, relax. I’ve got you.” He speaks so quietly you swear you feel your heart stop beating for a moment 

He lowers himself down until your skin presses against each other. His nipple and belly piercings drag against your sensitive skin as he sinks deeper into you. Suguru’s lips part, mirroring yours while he watches your face contort into complete pleasure. 

You try not to acknowledge the fact that his caramel eyes are flicking across your face. You wouldn’t be able to stand it if you saw how much he adored you. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead before he begins to fuck you. His cock drags in your walls, Satoru’s cum making it easier to slide through. Suguru tries to keep his composure as he watches you beneath him. He snakes a hand between you two and massages your clit. 

Your body jolts beneath him as you moan into his neck. Both of them made you feel so good it almost made you wonder. Were humans allowed to feel this good? 

Suguru hits deep inside you, his quiet moans mingling with yours. You look up and make eye contact with him, his pools of caramel swallowing you whole. His fingers speed up and you could feel yourself falling closer. You reach up and wrap a hand around his throat, bringing him down closer to your lips. Your lips smash together while he winces, your hand still wrapped around his throat. 

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby.” His voice sounded husky, a combination of the pressure on his throat and the lust that consumed him. 

You were going to be sore tomorrow but you didn’t care. You feel yourself start to cum and Suguru keeps pumping into you, bringing you down even more. 

“Good girl, good girl.” Your chest twists and turns at his voice. 

Suguru listens to the melody of your moans surrounding him while he slams into you. His cock forces itself into you even deeper as it twitches, cum draining out into your tight walls. His cum mixed with yours and Satoru’s, creating something sinful as it leaks down your body. You could hardly catch a breath as he started to drag himself out of you. 

You suddenly felt extremely empty and exposed, feeling the two men’s eyes bore into you. 

They share two kisses before Satoru is cleaning up between your legs, his loving cooes escaping his lips. 

After you get all cleaned up you cuddle in the bed together, basking in each others presence. 

“Oh, my gift is gonna seem lame now.”

Satoru turns to you and Suguru’s eyes widen. They hadn’t really expected anything from you. You bought them something every year, but they always told you you didn’t have to. 

“You got us something? Where?” Satoru’s voice peaks. 

“It’s in the bag by the table.” Your eyelids start to feel heavy. 

You sink further into the bed, enjoying the feeling of Suguru’s fingers stroking your side. 

Satoru hops off the bed and brings the bag over, rummaging through it. A big box of chocolates, definitely for Satoru. For Suguru, a teddy bear. 

“Too cheesy?” You ask, feeling self conscious. 

They had got you this hotel room, even going so far as to create a whole game to lead you to them, all of it was better than perfect. 

Satoru tackles you on the bed, quickly placing kisses all over your face. 

“It’s perfect bunny!” His words are slightly muffled from your face. 

Suguru grabs the teddy bear and grins, holding it close to his chest. 

Joy bursts from your skin and you try your hardest not to show your excitement. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” They say back, pulling you close.

[dittobtch]

I'd like to hear about leatin

ah yes my favourite topic:

leah, just a lonely girl living in a lonely world. a girl who falls in love with an older disgusting man only to get her heart broken later on.

then there's fatin: bold, gifted, and tired. so fucking tired of being held back by her busy schedule that she doesn't even want.

both of them fear love for different reasons. fatin thinks she's incapable of it and even if she was, all it brings is pain and heartbreak and she's had enough of that. besides, she doesn't have the time for anything like that: not romantic love nor platonic. familial love for fatin is... well... complicated...

leah on the other hand is familiar with the sting an intense, burning love leaves behind. she's suddenly left alone and has to deal with the consequences on her own. despite everything, all she wants is that toxic love back. to her, it's the only thing that can cure the emptiness she feels.

even on the island all she can think about is jeff. she gets into a literal fight with fatin over him (and fatin's "laziness" and lack of cooperation, but anyways).

then shit gets real. specifically, fatin goes missing. (cue the beginning of a beautiful, complex, sometimes toxic relationship).

only after Leah's confronted with the thought that holy shit someone could die - Fatin could die, does she finally burn his fuck ass book and metaphorically let him go (for now, anyways).

things are good for a bit, then they're bad. the ups and downs of the island. sometimes they get along, like when they think they're going to get rescued. other times they still have trouble getting along and that's okay too; they're learning and they're there for each other and that's all that matters.

well, they're there for each other until they're not. leah's mental health goes into a decline as season 2 begins. fatin tries to hold it together for the both of them, but she can't help but (homoerotically) argue with leah (for the second time) to defend her grieving friend.

eventually they make up because of course they do. afterall, fatin "was starting to like her" and knew that she could never really stop caring about leah.

in fact, the opposite starts happening. she cares about leah so much that she begins to look for the truth for leah. she devotes herself to the very thing that nearly drove leah insane. because she believes leah, for real this time.

and it's good but it's makes her feel so guilty because holy shit leah was right and fatin let her believe that she was insane. she unknowingly helped in gaslighting leah, but she can't give up now. she has to prove that leah was right; it's the only thing that can make up for it.

so, fatin attempts to pick up what leah left behind. fatin, who less than two months ago was unwillingly to help in building a simple shelter, puts in so much of her time and energy in figuring out the truth for leah. she'll let herself go insane the way leah did, do all the ethically questionable things, as long as leah doesn't have to do it anymore.

because fatin loves her:

and even though leah doesn't know fatin does all of this for her, leah loves her back:

(i could not for the life of me find a "the voices you love" gif, sorry)

ultimately, i love leatin because it's a story of these two complex teenagers who heal and break together. neither of them are fond of the idea of love when they meet, especially not with each other but together, they form a unique bond. their love doesn't fix each other but instead, they do things out of love for one another that helps them both.

they relearn how to love together. it's not perfect, but it works for them.

in the words of basically everyone left in this fandom: THEY COULD HAVE BEEN EVERYTHING but also they kind of already were everything and i don't think i'll ever get over it.

anyways if you liked this you should read my new fic too lmao

[mapis-putellas]

What we left behind.

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 2053

Warnings: talk of death. Vormir. Guns

Summary: Natasha was gone. At least, that's what you'd been told. She’d sacrificed herself; died to save everyone else, to bring back her family. If that was really the case, then who was at your front door?

The familiar sensation of a tear streaming down the side of your face breaks you from your thoughts as you stare up at the whirring blades of the fan. The wetness tickles your skin, but you couldn’t quite find it in you to wipe it away.

It had been nearly six months now since you’d lost your girlfriend, and that same old numbness still remains. It sits heavily on your chest like a blanket, except, this blanket wasn’t at all comforting. It was suffocating; restricting every single movement you make like a straight jacket.

The only thing you seem to know how to do anymore is cry, and even then they were pitiful tears, barely enough to warrant actual cries. It was almost as though you’d cried so much that all of your tears had simply run out. You’d all dried up.

Your eyes flicker almost subconsciously around the room. The only light came from a slit between the curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for you to make out anything other than the fine dust littering every surface. The sight of it brings you back to the last time you’d cleaned. It was over five months ago low, the day Natasha was supposed to come home.

Through the blip, neither you or Natasha had managed to find it in you to really keep your shared apartment tidy. You didn’t see the point, and Natasha just simply didn’t have the time. She was too busy with being team leader to what was left of the avengers.

But that had all changed when the plan of her going to vormir with Clint was put into action. She’d bring Yelena back with her, her mom and dad, and you’d share the first dinner in over five years with your girlfriend and family.

But then Clint had arrived back alone with the soul stone in hand, and a deep sense of unease had held you rigid until he’d shaken his head telling you she wasn’t coming back. That was when your whole world had fallen apart right in front of you.

You remember not being able to breath. You remember crying so hard you had physically made yourself sick. You remember the arms that had tried to wrap around you, and you remembered pushing them away in disgust. They weren’t Natasha’s arms. They weren’t allowed to touch you.

You remember leaving the compound and making your way back home to the empty, clean apartment you’d spent so long making perfect for her.

You remember the feeling of dread that had settled unceremoniously into your stomach. It remains there to this day as a constant reminder of what you’d lost. You remember everything about that day so vividly you want to erase it from your mind forever.

But you couldn’t.

Natasha was gone. She’d made her choice, and now you had to find a way to live with it no matter how badly it hurt to try.

*

And try you did. You woke up everyday despite never wanting to be conscious again. You went to work and pretended like seeing everyone was a blessing when in actual fact they brought you pain. You even managed to befriend Yelena, one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do.

She was a constant reminder of Natasha, and it was hard to differentiate the two in your deep stage of grief. You were sure you weren’t easy to be around for her either, but together you somehow managed to level one another out. It wasn’t perfect, and most days you fought like cats and dogs, but you were all each other had so you’d learnt to make it work.

It was on a normal Tuesday did all of that change.

There was a knock at your front door, the strength behind it both hesitant and wary. That, and the fact you weren’t expecting anyone raises the fine hairs on the back of her neck, and as grab your gun from it’s place in the locked drawer, you try your best to shake of the fear that had suddenly begun to run though you. Safety off and finger on the trigger, you reach forward and grasp the door handle before cautiously pulling open the door.

Absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greets you on the other side. You stand there, body rigid; trembling in complete and utter terror as your eyes burn with the familiar sensation of tears. It was her face. Her hair. Her clothes, her body. But it couldn’t be. She was dead. She died.

This wasn’t her, no matter how badly you wanted it to be.

An immediate feeling of dread creeps up from the pit of your stomach, and your pulse beats in your ears so loudly it blocks out all other sound. You go to raise your gun; because how dare this person torture you by pretending to be the love of your life -but raised hands promptly stop you in your tracks. You look at her, eyes wet with unshed tears desperate to fall.

She eyes you cautiously as she takes a small step closer, hands still either side of her head. “It’s me.” She seems to desperately plead, and at the sound of her voice, you feel the tightness in your throat grow a tenfold. It was her voice. This person had her voice too.

You try to say something; anything, but when you open your mouth, you come to find that even words had deserted you. It leaves you to release a choked sob despite your best efforts to stifle it, and you press your lips together in a futile attempt to prevent another from escaping as you tighten your grasp around the gun.

Your hands were noticeably trembling and unsteady, but the implication was there. You weren’t afraid to pull the trigger, and this person had to know that.

“P-prove it.” You somehow manage to choke out, and she nods, her throat bobbing as she looks away for just a second before speaking. You hate that your stomach clenches at the sight of the tears in her eyes.

Natasha used to show her emotions so rarely that each time she even came close to shedding a tear it would break your heart.

“We met just after my defection to shield. We didn’t like each other at first, because you thought I was too stubborn and hardheaded and I thought you were a self centred know it all.” She starts, and you hate the hope that begins to build in your stomach.

You were forced to remind yourself that this wasn’t hidden information. If you were around back then, you would know that Natasha and yourself never used to get along.

She seems to know this, because after a short moment, she continues. “You hate chocolate. The one time I got it for you for Valentine’s Day you waited until I was out of sight to give it to Peter. You hate the movie Up because it makes you cry. My sweater, the black one with the zip is your favourite because it’s oversized and smells like me. You…you used to wear it when I went on missions because it made you feel close. You used to sleep on my side of the bed when I wasn’t there because my pillow smells like my perfume,” she chuckles slightly as she uses one of her raised hands to wipe away the single tear that manages to spill down her cheek.

By now, you could feel your guard beginning to drop. Nobody knew this stuff. Nobody but Natasha. But it couldn’t be her. She was gone. It was a soul for a soul and she was the sacrifice. There was no other choice. She was dead. She was gone…wasn’t she?

“You think coffee is gross,” she continues, seemingly under the impression that you still weren’t convinced. “But you still kiss me even when I drink it. You call it the ultimate sacrifice.” At that part, your lips quirk up at the corners. It was an inside joke when you’d first gotten together. She’d make fun if you for not liking coffee and you’d kiss her just to shut her up.

“It’s our five year anniversary in two months. I was going to propose. I bought the ring and it’s in my underwear drawer underneath my socks. I wanted to spent the rest of my life with you, but then thanos…”

You drop the gun to the floor with a loud clatter and all but throw yourself against her body. Hesitant arms move from their raised position to settle gently around your waist, and you feel the tip of her cold nose nudge against the skin of your neck as she pulls you close to her.

“It’s you,” you choke out as you tightly fist the material of her jacket in your hands. You feel her nod against you, her hands fighting to grab purchase of any part of your body they could. She was shaking almost violently in your hold, whether that be from the cold or something else entirely. It forces you to tighten your grip around her, your hand rising to cup the back of her head.

“It’s me.” She whispers, voice trembling with emotion, “it’s me.”

*

You don’t know how long you remain in the threshold of the front door holding on to one another. It could have been seconds. Minutes. Hours. All you knew is that you never wanted to let go.

You never thought you’d get to hold her again. Feel the weight of her body in your arms and take in her intoxicating smell that had once brought you so much comfort. She was everything and you wanted to remain in this moment, right here, right now, for the rest of your life.

“Let’s…” you swallow heavily as you reluctantly pull her away from you and bring your hands up to cup her cheeks. Your thumb trails softly over the skin; just as soft as you remembered despite the tears staining it. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You whisper with a tender smile, and Natasha nods as she gently grasps your wrists in her hands.

Her wary eyes flicker down to your lips, and your smile becomes a little more genuine as you lean forward and place them tenderly against her own. They were warm, and soft; a feeling you’d missed dearly.

She gasps softly at the sensation of your lips against her own as her hands move from your wrists and down your back until they come to rest on either side of your waist. Her touch litters your skin with goosebumps, the caress of her hands on you for the first time in months an indescribable feeling.

Her bottom lip slots perfectly in between your own, an action that lingers as you trace the tip of your thumb over her jawline before reluctantly pulling away and resting her forehead against her own.

Her soft breath hits your lips as she clings to the shirt either side of your waist, and you feel your eyes fill with tears all over again as you pull her body into your own before closing the door behind her. Now that you were encased in the privacy of your own home, you watch as Natasha finally allows herself to break.

It starts off small. Quiet, hitched breaths as her unfocused eyes fill with tears. But then slowly, gradually, it gets bigger. Her chest heaves, her breathing intensifies, and she lets out a loud, unstifled sob as she falls defeatedly into your arms. Your own bottom lip trembles as you pull her body flush against your own, hands slipping beneath her jacket to desperately clutch at her shirt.

You were desperate to feel her skin against your own.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” You attempt to sooth, knowing no words would ever be good enough but desperate to try. “You’re back. You’re safe, and I love you. More than you could ever imagine.”

**

Part 2?

@goldenempyrean @mywitchy-assassin @romanoffsbish

[berryless]

As much as Astarion likes to pretend he's better than everyone, the truth is—when the performance ends, and the curtains draw to a close, he stays on the stage alone and forgotten, unworthy of attention when he isn't a spectacle. That's why his little theater is open for everyone around the clock. Every act, every movement, every phrase, although deftly improvised, is part of the show.

Everything to prevent the crowd from discovering the truth.

Everything to fool himself into forgetting said truth himself.

That outside of the spotlight, away from the little stage of his, when he looks in someone's eyes, Astarion doesn't see himself reflected in them. They look at him, but also past him, through him, like he's nothing but an empty space, a person-shaped hole in the fabric of the world that someone forgot to mend.

And because this happens oh so every often this thought is no longer a fear of his, not something he can doubt, but a simple fact.

They don't see him. They don't know him.

They don't care to.

Admittedly, this makes it easier to stomach luring them back to Cazador. Because of course a performance of century would require a fee. Nothing in this world is free. Certainly not his services.

And he is but a humble baitman, a shining lantern attracting moths to leap into the flames of eternal damnation.

A tool.

And as a tool he does what he's told to do unless he wants to end up discarded and broken like others disobedient useless tools were.

But then Tav sees him. And it's frightening.

Because suddenly after the show is over, after the curtains are drawn, after everything falls back to silence, and he returns to being in nothingness, he isn't truly alone on this stage anymore.

She's here, sitting quietly, looking at him in a contemplation, thinking who knows what—Astarion certainly doesn't. And her presence alone is forcing him to put back his stage costume and perform off clock, asking in jest if she happened to lost herself in his eyes, because it certainly wouldn't be the first for this to happen, he does have pretty eyes (or so he's been told enough to regurgitate the sentiment appropriately).

Tav laughs, "As a matter of fact, you do. But…" Her voice trails off, and that uncomfortable stare returns. She looks at him, lost in thoughts as she gathers her words, and a wave of goosebumps runs up Astarions arms when it comes to him she actually sees him.

Wants to see him.

Through him—in a different, completely foreign way, not skipping past his existence, but uncovering it and studying its insides. His insides.

The notion makes him nauseous.

His fingers start to tremble, and Astarion hides them in his fists.

He never knew that being perceived might be so frightening.

He's far more comfortable with everything being the usual way, for people withdrawing when the performance ends, for them seeing past him, but not him, because if they judge his mask, his persona, his act—that's a critique of his presentation. His work, if you will. His craft.

Not of Astarion himself.

And as it shockingly turns out, he might not like receiving judgment on something that he, an actor, an author, a man behind the stage is.

"You have far more than just those beautiful eyes of yours, aren't you?"

He laughs on cue, desperate to turn this exchange into one he has with his audience, "My, what gave me away? My luscious locks, perhaps? Or would that be my lustful lips? I received rave reviews on my use of them. Would you like to try for yourself?"

Tav smiles. She looks at him openly, without blushing, without twitching, neither sultry nor loathing, accepting his words like an act that they are.

Astarion can barely keep his flirtatious mask without it cracking.

"As tempting as this offer is, afraid I've to restrain myself," she sighs, the tone of her voice aligning to his. She's also performing her part, and he knows that with certainty. "My compact size does not allow me thread deep waters without caution."

And your waters, Astarion, run very deep indeed.

She doesn't say this out loud, but he can infer the meaning from other places.

"Oh, come on, I'm hardly deeper than a puddle," he quips back. "You'll be perfectly fine sloshing through. As long as you don't mind being messy."

"Will I?"

He's still unable to see his reflection, but the feeling of being seen doesn't go away. She looks at him, through him, but not past him, right into his skull, right into his soul, and a part of him wants to curl himself in a ball to hide from this deep penetrating stare of hers.

Thankfully, Tav turns away before he's forced to do that. Or gouge out her wise all-knowing eyes, completely ill-fit for someone oh-so-young.

"Goodnight, Astarion."

He doesn't ask for a goodnight sip this time, just says something fitting without thinking much about it.

The feeling of her gaze lingers, it crawls under his skin, making all his hairs stand on end.

He doesn't like it.

And yet the shudder runs through him from just a fleeting picture of those eyes prying him open and reading through him with same acute attention that's reserved exclusively for her books. A frightened one, yes. But simultaneously full of excitement.

He does not like it.

Not one bit.

Not at all.

[fancyfeathers]

William’s and Sherlock’s darlings

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

(A/N- this one was painful to write, I cried while writing this)

Spoilers for the Moriarty the Patriot timeskip

When Sherlock and William disappear, their darlings are left alone, because Mycroft’s darling is married off to him and she was the reporter’s best friend, and Albert is arrested and his darling has left to go see the world with her dead parent’s fortune, meanwhile Louis’ darling is still stuck with him as his life changes, which leaves William’s darling alone again…

William told her that he would never abandon her…

And now he was gone…

He kidnapped her, manipulated her, gaslit her, but he cared for her, she thinks.

Honestly she doesn’t know what to think as she now stands in an empty house, all alone, abandoned like she had been all her life. But then there is a knock at the front door and her steps echo through the empty halls as she goes to get it, and all she feels is emptiness from this empty nest. She opens the door to see an all too familiar face and a welcome one at that, the reporter, Sherlock’s darling. Both of them look at the other and they just look like they have seen hell. William’s darling has always seen this woman as a strong and independent woman but…

“…Miss Hudson said that Sherlock left me some stuff in case he… I…I can’t do this alone.”

“…Neither can I.”

Now it feels like William’s darling is looking at a mirror when looking at her friend. The two go to Baker Street together to pick of the box of the things Sherlock left his darling, it’s mostly letters he wrote to her but never sent, all the things he couldn’t make himself say, a few of her newspapers articles, some money, and a ring. The two go back to the old Moriarty estate together and just sit down together in silence which is broken by Sherlock’s darling…

“I don’t have a job anymore since I worked for Milverton’s paper and I doubt any news companies here would want to hire me since my main source is dead, I have some family in the states I was going to stay with until I am ready to start writing again-“

“Can I please come with you?”

A smile comes across the reporter’s face at her question.

“I was hoping you would.”

The two say goodbyes to whoever they can and have left and a week later they are on a boat across the ocean. It is on the voyage over when Sherlock’s darling is walking through the halls of the ship when she hears music, she follows it to one of the ship’s lounges to see William’s darling playing and singing. Her friend sits down on the bench next to her and listens…

“Where did you learn?”

“Albert’s wife taught me how to play and then at the opera house I used to listen in on the singers’ vocal lessons.”

“Well you certainly have a gift, good enough to play at the St. Regis in New York.”

“Thank you… I read some of your articles as well, you also have quite the hand.”

“Thank you.”

Starting a new life can be scary but at least they have each other.

Life in New York is not so bad, the two women stay with the grandparents of Sherlock’s darling in their home in upper Manhattan, a kind retired couple who takes care of the two women after such a terrifying and life changing incident. Her grandfather clears out his old and unused study for his grandchild to use so she can begin writing her new column. And then her grandmother begins to teach William’s darling about the types of music here in New York that is far different than the music she heard be played at the opera house, the two play piano that can be heard from where her grandfather works in his garden and down the hall where the reporter clicks away at her typewriter.

Soon two years had passed, the two managed to get their own apartment in lower manhattan, Sherlock’s darling had been taking small writing jobs here and there but had recently secured a job as a journalist for the New York Times, a crime journalist like she was before. Meanwhile William’s darling after years of hiding herself away and now works as a singer at a high end hotel like the reporter told her to do. The two had found themselves grow into a routine, make and have breakfast together, William’s darling will clean up the apartment and work and write some of her music while Sherlock’s darling heads out to work, then the reporter will come back in the afternoon for a late lunch, then William’s darling will leave to the hotel while the reporter finishes her work at home for the day, and then she will join her friend at the hotel after her performance and the two will have dinner there due to her friend’s role as staff at the hotel. Life was peaceful and now neither of them were alone, they had each other.

Some days were harder than others, one of them knowing they left people behind in London, the darlings of Louis and Mycroft, not telling Albert’s darling where they were so she would not feel the need to find them ever since they would take care of themselves. Sometimes the two would sit on top of the roof of their apartment building after hanging up the laundry and just wonder if they made the right choice and if they miss the mastermind and detective, William’s darling is far more prone to this and will just take her notebook up and write, doesn’t matter what, music, poetry, letters to him for her to keep, just something to get it all off her chest.

Meanwhile working for the Pinkerton agency in Brooklyn, Sherlock gets a job, there is going to be a large transaction with one of the heads of the biggest crime family in New York at a high end hotel in Manhattan, so he brings along William since has more insight how unground organizations function. They deal with the threat at the hotel silently as the owner requested as to not scare the guests and staff…

Meanwhile William’s darling and Sherlock’s darling are having a glass of wine in one of the empty event rooms at the hotel after her shift, sitting on the piano bench of the grand piano in the mostly empty room. Sherlock’s darling mentions that she left her journal open on the couch at home and told her she read one of the songs and asks her.

“Do you miss William?”

“…sometimes… I-I know he was a devil on earth… but I can’t help but think that even devils were once angels- sorry I probably sound crazy-“

“I would never tell you that you are crazy… would you mind playing one of your songs for me?”

“Sure but only if you sing with me, and don’t say you don’t know the lyrics when you snooped.”

Sherlock and William are walking down a hall in the hotel, about to leave when they both hear a piano playing from one of the rooms ahead. They shrug it off as some staff or a guest playing for fun, then William hears a voice, her voice…

“Balancing the scales

All my job entails

Making sure that they're prepared to see the world.”

He thinks he is just hearing something for a second and tries to tell himself it is nothing, but her voice… it has to be…

Sherlock definitely picks up on this and silently nods and William approaches the closed door where he hears the music and the voice…

“And all I feel is emptiness

From this emptying nest

William are you there

I was unaware

How difficult it'd be without you there

I was unprepared”

It is her, it has to be.

Then there is another voice joining in…

“Balancing the scales, balancing the scales

I did the best I could but still I have failed

Still I have failed

Balancing the scales

Want them to see the world but I'll always care”

Now William looks at the detective so see the same expression William wore on his own face.

As the piano fades away the door handle turns and the ladies turn their heads expecting it to be another of the hotel staff but instead…

William expected something when his darling saw him after years of thinking he was dead, but not the look of fear in her eyes after saying his name so sweetly in a song. She looks terrified, like she just saw a ghost and in some ways she did.

Sherlock on the other hand expected his darling’s reaction, like the look of pure rage in her eyes when she saw him alive. Their last few meeting before he disappeared were not on the greatest term as their friendship had a falling out due to Sherlock’s feels towards her and his overprotectiveness. Then not to mention by killing Milverton, she lost her job in London

In a blink of an eye and without a second thought, Sherlock’s darling grabbed her friend’s wrist and walked right out of the other doors to the room into another hallway.

It takes a second for William to process that he is crying. He abandoned her when he told her that he would never do such a thing. God what had he done?

The next day, neither woman goes to work, not even bothering to notify anyone that they would not be showing up today, they would find an excuse later. William’s darling sits on the rooftop, looking over the city as Sherlock’s darling hangs their laundry up on the line…

“Do you think you’ll go back to him now that you have the option?”

The question from her friend catches William’s darling off guard…

“I… I don’t know…”

“You do not have to, dear.”

That voice catches both women off guard, and they both look behind them at the rooftop entrance to see William standing there with his darling’s journal in hand, she must have left it at the piano.

“I only came to return this… and tell you I am sorry for abandoning you, I hurt you and I can never repair your trust in me, but I will… I will always be here if you need me.”

He sets the journal down on the bench she is sitting down and before William can turn to leave, she grabs his sleeve and he looks down at her with confusion but before he can say anything else she leaps up and wraps her arms around him, tucking her chin over his shoulder as she always had done…

“I forgive you.”

Meanwhile Sherlock’s darling is overcome with emotions that she cannot place as she looks at the two. She squeezes her eyes shut and a hand comes to rest on her shoulder. She does not have to look up to know who it was.

“I do not forgive you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to and I wasn’t apologizing, love.”

[gaylordscooter]

Don't Bring a Papyrus to the Castle are you Insane

It's been awhile since Nightmare’s tormented them. This was, of course, a good thing. Supposedly.

It could mean that he's been planning something during the time of inactivity. It put Horror on edge. He's always been the most paranoid, even with the tough competition.

The main difference between Horror and the other two was that they would roll with the punches. Horror wanted to be prepared, which was a problem, because he ended up driving himself insane trying to figure out what Nightmare could possibly be planning.

In all honesty, Nightmare was slacking in his latest attempts to boost the negativity in the air. The last thing he did was play a bunch of scary movies and then pretended to be like the monsters in said scary movies when it was time to sleep. He did not account for them blowing him up when he acted like the Thing.

It was ever since they started working together. That's when Nightmare started losing his edge.

No one was going to mention it, but it was almost kind of…fun? Living at the castle. The alternative for Killer and Dust was an empty world with nothing else to do except think about how horrible they are. As for Horror—well, he at least had a stable source of food. For the most part, they were never actively put in danger. Almost everything Nightmare did was simulated, albeit simulated situations of terror cultivated for them. They also had comfortable shelter with their own rooms and all.

At first, the three hated each other. They still kinda do, but working together lessened it a tad…maybe more than that, but again, no one was going to mention it.

“what if he gives up and kicks us out? or what if he just kills us?” Horror guessed as he paced around the so-called “living room” which was really just the great hall of the castle but none of them called it that. “he keeps us around for our negativity, we know that much, so what happens once he can't get the amount he wants from us anymore?”

“he wouldn't kick us out,” Killer said dismissively. He was leaning back on one of the chairs, propping his legs up against one of the many very long tables in the room. “i think he’s gotten attached to us. that's why he hasn't been doing anything.”

Dust, who was sitting next to him, scoffed at the notion.

“what? you think i’m wrong?” he questioned.

“i doubt he cares about us,” Horror muttered.

“atatata, i said attached. big difference,” Killer said. “we're like toys to him, toys that a little child doesn't want to let go. children don't go out of their way to toss their toys out.”

“i don't think you can equate him to a child,” Horror retorted.

Killer cocked his head. “really? ‘cus he sure acts like one sometimes.”

The doors to the living room swung open and a familiar darkness filled the air, but instead of Nightmare entering the room—it was Papyrus instead.

Killer fell backwards, the chair clattering against the floor, while Dust turned away while clutching his hood. Only Horror was able to look him in the eye.

“WOWIE! THREE OF MY BROTHER?” Papyrus quickly looked over the room, narrowing his eyes and stroking his chin, as if looking for something. “IT IS A LOT CLEANER HERE THAN I EXPECTED! CERTAINLY YOU THREE AREN’T DOING ANY CLEANING.”

Killer remained on the floor. He brought his hands up to his face. “this is a sick joke. this is a sick joke. tell me i’m hallucinating. is this a bad trip?”

“this is real, bud,” Horror answered.

Killer groaned.

Horror glanced at Dust and back to Killer again. Clearly, neither of them were equipped to handle this. He sighed, “i’ll talk to papyrus and tell ‘m to leave you two alone.” He walked over to Papyrus, which took a minute with how huge the hall was. He internally grimaced as he saw Papyrus's expression flicker to worry when he noticed his injury. “hey…bro. don’t mind the gaping hole in my head, i forgot to wear a helmet, y’know how it is.” Despite being such a long time since he’s talked to Papyrus, he was able to slip right back into old habits. Such as lying to him.

“I SEE…” Papyrus looked tempted to CHECK him, but decided against it to Horror’s relief. He peered behind Horror to get a good look at Killer and Dust.

The two of them simultaneously turned even more away from Papyrus’s gaze as if it’d turn them to stone.

“don't mind the other me’s, they're—uh a bit…different?”

“YES, YES, ALTERNATE VERSIONS I AM WELL AWARE OF THAT,” he declared proudly like he studied for this.

Horror blinked, not expecting that. How much does he know? He asked himself. He was scared to know the answer. He choked down his mess of emotions to keep a neutral face. “right…uh, yeah. it would be best if you left ‘em alone. they might explode or something if you approach them.” That might not even be hyperbole with how those two were reacting.

“VERY WELL! NOT EVERYONE CAN HANDLE THE GREAT PAPYRUS’S OVERPOWERINGLY POWERFUL PRESENCE.” Even though the “everyone” he was referring to were copies of his own brother.

“yep…you're just too cool for ‘em.” This was very quickly steering into an awkward direction. Scratch that, it was already awkward. He was talking to a younger version of his brother before he manipulated him to eat human flesh. As far as he knew, this Papyrus would never have to go through what he had. And that's not to mention the two brother killers in the same room as them. He could only guess how stressed those two were.

Nightmare was probably reveling in it. Asshole.

Papyrus sighed uncharacteristically. It wasn't his dramatic sigh that was for the sake of gaining attention. He was troubled. “Are we doing the thing where we pretend everything’s fine and dandy despite everything telling us otherwise?”

Horror choked on the spit in his throat that wasn't there. “i—uhhh.” He darted his eyes to the side, suddenly the wall to the right was very intriguing and he would much rather look there.

“There's a GAPING HOLE in your skull and I don't even WANT to ask where that eye came from!” Papyrus exclaimed while throwing his arms out. He gestured to his torn shirt with blood old stains right at the edges. “I just know THAT’S not ketchup stains. Sans, how dense do you think I am?”

“i—”

“Actually, don't answer that. I already have a hunch.”

Horror hung his head in shame. “‘m sorry,” he mumbled.

Papyrus's expression softened. He knelt down to Horror’s level to look him in the eye and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not mad…I’m just worried. You always hide stuff from me and it hurts you!” He was very clearly looking at the hole in his head. “You hid what happened from your brother didn't you?”

Horror flinched. “yeah. yeah, i did.”

Then, to Horror’s surprise, Papyrus brought him into a hug.

Silently, he brought up his arms to return the hug.

Dust and Killer dared to turn around to see the display. Only to quickly look away once more when Papyrus looked at them with a warm grin.

The silent hug ended and Papyrus stood at full height once more.

“how much do you know?” Horror asked.

“WELL!” Papyrus started, already returning to his cheery and boisterous demeanor. “THE GOOPY THING SURE SHARED WAY TOO MUCH PERSONAL INFORMATION ABOUT YOU THREE. IT WAS PRETTY RUDE, HONESTLY, SO I DIDN’T WANT TO BRING IT UP UNLESS YOU DID.”

Killer and Dust couldn't avoid looking at him now.

“EVERYTHING. I KNOW EVERYTHING THERE IS TO KNOW,” he clarified.

Killer reached a shaky hand up to grip Dust’s jacket from the ground, perhaps looking for comfort, or because if he didn't hold onto something he would dust right then and there.

Dust grabbed his wrist in turn, gripping it way too tight.

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at them. “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME AND YOU CAN’T EVEN FACE ME HEAD-ON ABOUT IT?!”

Killer blinked. That wasn’t a pun, was it? No, of course it wasn’t.

“DON’T GET A-HEAD OF YOURSELVES, I’M NOT MAD. NO NEED TO DIVE HEAD FIRST INTO SUCH ASSUMPTIONS.”

It most certainly was a pun. Killer tried to suppress a chuckle, but he failed. It was like a dam broke as he bursted out in hysterical laughter, rolling around on the ground.

Dust looked down at him in shock and let go of his wrist.

“papyrus, you—you can't just do that to us!” he cried between laughs. “i can't breathe!”

Papyrus smirked. “YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO KILL ME IF I DO?”

“papyrus, please.” Killer gasped desperately for air.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. THAT’S ENOUGH MACABRE JOKES ABOUT MY OWN DEATH FOR NOW. I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE FROM LAUGHING, I’M NOT HERE FOR REVENGE.”

Now it was Dust’s turn to laugh, except it was silent and he was banging his fist against the table trying to keep it that way.

Papyrus looked pleased with himself.

Horror couldn't help but smile genuinely. Leave it to Papyrus to make him laugh no matter the situation.

“NYEH HEH HEH! AS ALWAYS, YOU CANNOT STAY GLUM IN MY PRESENCE FOR LONG!!”

Of course now was the time Nightmare decided to enter the room—or make his presence known. For all they know he could’ve been here the entire time, just hidden.

Killer immediately got up from the floor while Dust regained his composure.

He approached Papyrus and Horror, using his tentacles to lift himself up and tower over the two.

“No. No, you're not supposed to be happy,” Nightmare said in disbelief. His single eye was cracked wide open with utter contempt. The air around him was suffocating. “You're not supposed to just forgive them.” Tentacles stretched out and pointed at the three Sanses as if threatening to impale them. “They all betrayed you.”

He flicked a tentacle at Dust and Killer in particular, “They KILLED you! Multiple times! Even when you begged them to stop!” He was screaming, but it didn't have a threatening edge to it, despite his anger.

He turned his attention to Horror, leering down at him with his eye going slit. “And you. You think you're better than those two just because you didn't actively kill all those people, but you're not. You doomed everyone. You manipulated your brother into eating human flesh. He didn't want that.” His gaze finally landed back on Papyrus. “How could you forgive them?”

Underneath that anger he sounded…wounded.

Papyrus answered him without hesitation, “They must've had a good reason.”

Nightmare flinched back like he was hit. His tentacles retracted and curled against his body. His aura grabbed at their souls with an unbearable pressure. “You choose to believe in them, despite everything? Even though they harmed you in ways brothers should never?!” he roared.

“I will never stop believing them!” Papyrus declared. Those weren't empty words, he knew that.

Something in Nightmare snapped. He couldn't bear to stomach Papyrus’s unfaltering belief any longer. He opened a portal to the Papyrus’s universe but when he tried to grab him to toss him through his touch instantly encased him in ice. He didn't even process it as he made the motion to toss him into the portal anyway.

Once the portal closed he saw the three Sanses on the floor, struggling against his aura. They’ve never had that problem before, usually they could withstand it when his aura leaked through.

He finally registered the flecks of ice on his hand. He was revolted, he's only used that kind of magic once before and he made an effort to never let it happen again. When did that happen?

How did that happen?

He froze that Papyrus, he realized.

He never meant to—

He didn't even want to—

…He wasn't keeping track of his aura. He wasn't keeping it in check. He was killing them. He wrestled with his magic trying to force it back to normal. It was so much harder than usual.

What was happening? He was losing control. He couldn't lose control. That wasn't something he was allowed to—

Ah.

There was a knife impaling him, in one of his tentacles.

Killer glared at him with fury he’s never seen or felt from him before. For once, he had eyelights in those usually lifeless sockets and they were piercing through him just like his knife. He didn't hesitate to draw the knife back to drive it back in again over and over, it wasn't until Horror grabbed him from behind to drag him away from Nightmare.

“you just saw him freeze papyrus with a single touch and you're gonna get closer?” Horror said.

Killer struggled against his hold, swinging his knife and trying to reach Nightmare in vain. “i don't give a shit!”

The sound of a blaster rang out. It was aimed right at Nightmare’s head.

“dust, don��t,” Horror warned in vain.

Dust shot him a look of malice.

The blaster fired anyway, hitting Nightmare square on the forehead. He let out a horrific screech and a tentacle reflexively struck at Dust. Luckily, it only pierced the floor in front of him.

“you think you're real funny, huh?! bringing in a papyrus and trying to turn him against us? go on and have a tantrum because shit isn't going your way! when will you learn that we're not your fucking toys, asshole?!” Killer barked and wrenched himself free from Horror's grip. Thankfully, he didn't bother to get closer to Nightmare again.

Nightmare shrieked inhumanly in response. He frantically glanced between the three, bracing for another attack that never came.

“i remember when i thought you were terrifying! but you're just so immature. you just gonna scream your lungs out instead of talking?” he taunted.

A tentacle shot forward at Killer's head. He didn't even flinch as it halted an inch away from his nose.

The look in Nightmare's eye was rabid. He only had a speck of self control left. It took every resemblance of logic in him left to refrain from killing the three of them right then and there. He wanted to. Oh how he really wanted to.

A small voice told him he would regret that.

He tore his eye away from the three, turning around to open a portal. He had to leave, now.

He went through and it snapped shut, and the three were free of his presence.

They let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. It was easier to breathe now, too, without Nightmare’s aura choking them to death.

Killer sighed and put his hands in his pockets, letting his shoulders slump. “‘m going to my room.” He walked off towards the end of the hall.

“killer, wait,” Horror said.

He paused mid-step, sighing. “what?”

“i’m not just gonna let you board yourself up in your room.” He turned to Dust. “none of us should be alone right now.”

Killer chuckled, amused at his concern. “oh really? what, so you can act like a support system like you’re someone who actually cares about me?” he spat. He shook his head dismissively. “i am going to my room,” he repeated slowly, enunciating each word this time.

Horror sighed as Dust also walked off.

However, Dust wasn't walking to leave the room, but rather towards Killer. He grabbed Killer's shoulder from behind, stopping him in place.

“horror i said—” His eye sockets widened when he turned to see Dust instead. He frowned. “you too, huh?”

Dust patted him on the shoulder with the same hand.

“‘m not even going to pretend that means anything.” He shrugged his hand off. “you forget that i have just as high of LV as you. i know what that does to you. we don't have the capacity to care. we're numb!” he said bitterly.

“you sure are the most emotional for someone so ‘numb’,” Horror chimed in.

“that's not—”

“true? you were laughing just a moment ago. you’re so shaken at what happened you want to be alone. you're gonna tell me that's ‘numb’?”

“well i’m not feeling normally either!” Killer snapped. His hand mindlessly hovered over his soul, covering it from their view. “it's all so short lived what does it matter anyway?! i just need a second alone, everything will go back to normal, and then Nightmare will torment us again, cycle repeats,” his voice broke, unusually filled with emotion. “that's our lives now.”

“you don't have to isolate yourself—”

“shut up! you don't care about me! neither of you do! you never will, because i killed papyrus—the only person who’d care for us unconditionally. i can blame the anomaly or nightmare all i want but it's my fault that this is happening.”

Dust was taken aback. His face was hardly visible, but Killer could see that he was stunned.

Killer always insisted he wasn't at fault for what happened in his universe; that it was just the anomaly's fault. It was what Dust hated so much about him, half because he was mad at his audacity to shift the blame and half because he was jealous he could do that. Turned out he was jealous at nothing, because he couldn't do that.

Dust tried to sign something.

“i don't know what that meant, but i assume it's an insult.”

Dust shook his head. He tried again, but in a way he hoped Killer would understand, by pointing at him and motioning to where his own soul is.

Killer tilted his head. “you want my soul or something?”

Dust face palmed.

“don't be dense, killer. he's telling you that he does care about you!” Horror interjected. “we both do, dumbass.”

Dust brought his hand down and nodded.

Killer scoffed and crossed his arms. “well don’t expect me to reciprocate.”

“okay ‘mr. edgy i can't feel anything but i need to go in my room to cry’,” Horror teased.

“i wasn't going to cry!” he retorted.

“right…” Horror trailed off, getting an idea. “either of you wanna get a snack? nightmare's not here to stop us from raiding the fridge.”

“of course you would think of that,” Killer said.

“you down or not?”

“duh!” Killer threw his arms up. “let's go!”

The three of them walked out of the hall together and made their way to the kitchen.

The kitchen looked much more modern than the hall, as if it belonged in a mansion rather than a castle. None of them questioned how any of the appliances were powered.

To their delight, they had plenty of time for rummaging through the fridge and eating. They ended up staying at the table and chatting even after finishing their food.

Nightmare was taking much longer to come back than any of them expected. It was almost nighttime and he had yet to show up. They almost wondered if he was coming back or not.

To everyone's shock it was Papyrus that entered the room. They weren't sure if it was the same one at first until he started talking.

“I AM HERE YET AGAIN!” he announced.

The three of them gawked.

“YES, YES, I KNOW IT IS SURPRISING, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS CANNOT STAY DOWN FOR LONG! I HAVE RECOVERED FROM THAT CHILLING EXPERIENCE…” his eyes shifted to the side, “MIRACULOUSLY!” He posed proudly with his cape-scarf blowing in the nonexistent wind behind him. “ALTHOUGH, I WON’T BE HERE FOR LONG. I AM ONLY HERE TO SAY FAREWELL.” He extended his arms out, offering a hug.

Dust hesitated, while Horror couldn't even react before Killer sprang up out of his chair to accept it.

“IT’S UNFORTUNATE I HAVE TO GO, BUT I HAVE MY OWN UNIVERSE THAT IS IN NEED OF A PAPYRUS!” He said as he patted Killer on the back and ended the hug. He walked over to one of the windows. “TRY NOT TO MISS ME TOO MUCH!” He jumped through the window. Just like that he was gone.

Horror hurried over to the window to catch the sight of a portal closing and sighed in relief. “he always knew how to make an exit.”

They assumed that since Papyrus arrived, Nightmare would show up at any moment, but it took another hour for him to arrive.

He hurridly passed through the kitchen, probably on his way to his room. It seemed he didn't expect them to still be hanging out in the kitchen as he made a note of ignoring them.

Dust managed to sneak a glance at him and the huge scorch mark on his back. In addition to that, he had less tentacles out than usual, he swore he saw legs underneath his cloak which were usually covered up.

Killer and Horror were too caught up in talking about the sudden Papyrus encounter to care.

Meanwhile, in Nightmare's room he stood in front of the mirror hung on his wall, glaring at himself in contempt.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

It was the very thing he said to himself when he decided to do this. When he decided to gather those three and take them to the castle.

Don’t get attached.

He told himself. Yet here he was, in front of his mirror trying to convince himself that he hasn't gotten attached.

They were supposed to be his source of negativity, in a way, mere food.

The scorch mark on his back and missing tentacles were proof of his failure. He wouldn't purposefully seek out his brother if he wasn't attached to them. He wouldn't try to salvage the situation he created specifically for his entertainment.

But it wasn't entertaining. Not anymore. That was the problem.

He hit the mirror off the wall with one of his remaining tentacles.

He didn't know where to go from here.

[g1rld1ary]

lamest place in the world - trevor spengler x reader

wc: 835

cw: smoking, drinking, swearing kissing, trevor and r are implied slightly aged up because i want them to be but has no impact on plot, please don't get in the car with a boy you've just met xx

Summerville, despite the name's associations, was the lamest place in the world. Certainly not the endless summer paradise that was suggested on the tin. There wasn't much to do over the summer except go to work, sleep, or fuck around in one of the many dumb fields around. It wasn't even a farming town anymore, why were there still so many goddamn fields?

You were in Walmart, preparing for a quiet night in. A pint of ice cream, a face mask, some new nail polish; you were all set.

"No way, I, um, love that stuff," A voice said from next to you. You chanced a glance at the boy next to you, towering over the shelf and all gangly limbs.

"You love nail polish?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. The boy cringed, caught in his own ruse and exposed by his obviously untouched nails.

"I just mean, uh--"

"You just wanted a reason to talk to me?" The boy nodded, seemingly resigned to his awful failure. To his surprise, you introduced yourself instead. You figured he was new to the town, and couldn't be any worse than the people you already knew. "What are you doing tonight?"

An hour later Trevor was in your car, driving you both out to the outskirts of town. He'd begged you to let him drive, apparently he'd never been allowed or something where he lived, and you figured your ancient piece-of-shit car could handle one more reckless driver.

You turned the speaker all the way up, blasting whatever tape you'd last put into it. You hung out the passenger window, singing along as Trevor raced down the empty dirt roads.

The car was parked in the middle of another field. Far off in the distance, you could see a few artificial lights, but other than that you were alone.

"Why'd you come to Summerville?" You asked Trevor once you'd shifted positions so you were both on the hood of your car, staring up at the dark night sky.

"My mom's broke," He replied, "We got evicted from our apartment and all we've got left is that stupid horror movie house and a bunch of old dusty shit inside."

"Shit," You agreed, coming up with an idea, "You want one?" You offered him a cigarette from the packet inside your jacket.

"I, uh, haven't smoked before," He said sheepishly.

"Neither have I. Cigarettes are stupid hard to come by here, they're only sold at one place and he's tough on kids. These're my brothers from college." You brandished a lighter, hot pink that you assured your mom was just for candles, and got to work.

You counted down together, inhaling in sync. You both choked out coughs and splutters, laughing at each other's embarrassing moments. You stumbled through the process, giving each other advice on how to do it properly despite both of you making it up on the spot.

You figured it out soon enough, and fell into a peaceful quiet, listening to the cicadas and rustling grass.

"Do you hate it here?" Trevor asked to break the silence and you looked at him, considering the question.

"I used to a lot more, I think. I used to be so fucking angry that this was the lot I was given. I've grown up a lot now, make my own fun, and it's not so bad anymore. Now I only hate it every other day," You joked, uncomfortable with the serious conversation. Thankfully Trevor laughed and you were back to more playful conversation.

You'd been out there for hours, burning through a few cigarettes and whatever booze you had stashed in the trunk.

"It's not funny, Trev, we were in deep shit--"

"What'd you call me?"

"Trev? Is that not alright--"

"No, no I liked it. Really liked it." You look over at him, were you always this close? You could feel his breath on your face, hot even in the summer air.

You think you were the one to kiss him first, but it honestly could've been either of you. Something in the air between you was electric, pushing you towards the boy you'd only just met.

The kiss was kind of awkward at first, both of you craning your necks from your position on your backs. Trevor was the one to move, pulling himself on top of you and framing your face with his forearms. He tasted like a bizarre mix of cigarettes and beer but it didn't repel you, rather encouraging you to open your mouth for him, the two of you getting even closer. You explored his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle in his curls, pulling on them slightly and giggling into his open mouth when he moaned.

Maybe Summerville wasn't all boring, and you were pretty sure you'd just sorted out your summer plans.

[hariet436]

As Belle, you have always known you would leave the palace. Even if clause 99 hadn’t existed, the princes are out of reach for you. The gap between the world that you and them live in was just too great to ever bridge.

That’s why you decided to outright deny having any feelings for them. You were being cruel. You told them that those moments you two spent together meant nothing to you, and that you two can never be anything. Oh, what a good actress you were not tearing up while uttering those cruel words in the most convincing way.

After a heated exchange of painful words and expressions, you were left alone in the room. As soon as the prince leaves, tears fell from your eyes. You didn’t try to stop it though. There was no sob, neither did you expression change. You just stood lifelessly there, letting the tears out as the hot liquid burnt on your cheeks and dripped to the floor. Yet the most unexpected thing happens - you hear the doorknob being turned!

1. Leon Dompteur

- he felt like he said something he shouldn’t have to you. With a small grunt, he opens the door with the intention of apologizing and asking to end things on a peaceful note.

- If parting ways is truly what you want, he had no choice but to respect that wish. Yet, he was his with the sight of you crying. Your eyes are so empty, so painful. In a rush, he strode urgently to you and wrapped his arms tightly around you, making you gasp.

- “W-why are you still here, Leon…!?”

- “If I hadn’t entered the room again, would you have continued to suffer alone like this? I should have known you were clearly lying earlier…”

- You two were going to have a much more honest conversation with each other. It was unclear what the future holds, but at least now that Leon know how you truly felt, he will never let go so easily of his beloved Belle.

2. Licht Klein

- Licht was hurt badly by your words. Was he really that unworthy of your time? Are you just that cold-hearted? Was the warmth he felt from you all a lie? He needed an answer. With that in mind, he re-entered the room, hoping you were still there.

- He froze upon seeing you silently crying with your eyes closed, your expression blank and empty, unlike he has ever seen before. Suddenly, everything clicked and there was a glimmer of hope in his ruby red eyes.

- “I knew it…” Licht mumbled quietly. You opened your eyes upon hearing the words being uttered, and was flustered when you see Licht there. You turned away out of shame, knowing you just said the cruelest things.

- Licht didn’t want to lose anyone he love anymore. With resolved steps, he made his way to you and embraced your body.

- “Please…if you act like this, both of us will be in pain. At least…I want to know what your heart desires the most.”

- The conversation wasn’t easy, but it was needed to figure out a solution that was optimal for both parties.

3. Yves Kloss

- Yves stomped into the kitchen, wanting to bake anything at all to vent his frustration. He was sure there was something between him and Belle, so he thought she would agree to his proposal that she stays in the palace. His mind races with embarrassment and a bit of anger. Was he the clueless one again?

- After half an hour, he finished making some rose pastries. The first person that pops up in his mind at that point wasn’t any of his brother, but Belle. Maybe he can make up for the argument earlier if he just give her the pastries made by the Yves Kloss!

- The first sight that greeted him was of Belle crying, her face behind her hands, scrambling to hide her puffy eyes. Yves panics and rushes inside the room.

- “W-wait, Belle, were you crying because of something I said…? I-I’m sorry! H-have some pastries…!” Yves tried to sooth her and patted her back. Feeling the warmth of this clumsy yet adorable gesture, you wiped your tears away.

- “No, it’s not your fault, Yves, please…”

- “Then what is it? Please tell me, Belle! I-I don’t want you to cry in solitude like I used to…”

- That afternoon, Belle and Yves had a heartfelt conversation. You have decided you won’t lie about your reverence for him anymore.

4. Jin Grandet

- unlike his brothers, Jin was sensitive to a woman’s feelings. He can pick up the signs that you were lying. But he can’t understand why - was she afraid of something? Maybe it was their difference in status…their worlds. Maybe parting ways was the best way for both of them.

- However, Jin’s heart was telling him otherwise. It was the love of his life! He should at least fight for it - or else he would feel continue to feel hollow - unable to express himself to anyone.

- With a determined mind, Jin opens the door only to witness Belle quietly sobbing, her pearly tears falling down the sides of her cheeks. She looks…solemn and sorrowful. No, if parting ways was just going to make them both like this for a lifetime, then he’d rather weather all of the court politics only to have Belle by his side.

- “Why weren’t you just honest from the start…” Jin sighs. He takes your hand and takes you out of the room. “Let’s go, Belle. We shall have a date together and you’ll change your mind about me!”

[emmie-tt]

hello writer,

hope you're having a good day, can I request you a Harry Potter X reader post war where they both are raising ted together as friends but then Harry falls for the reader and reader doesn't know it.

Just Friends...

Description: Raising a child with your best friend is all fun and games until feelings start forming

WARNINGS: death, yelling

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

Y/N POV

This was not supposed to be happening..I look down at the people I called my parents for the past year as they lay dead on the ground. I look at Harry, my best friends, as his arms wrap around me. I hug him back as we cry together.

After a few minutes I remember something- more like someone. I pull back and look at Harry with wide eyes. "harry...teddy.."

His eyes widen as he stares back at me, after a minute of what looks to be a staring contest he grabs my hand and takes off running out of the great hall straight to where Ted was staying with one of Tonks friends house.

As we arrived I look at him and take a deep breath "what- who's gonna care for him? I mean- they didn't have any family did they?"

Harry shakes his head then looks at me "no...but they had us, they cared for us so the least we could do is care for their son."

My eyes widen at what he was saying. He noticed and sighed before continuing "y-you dont have to...I didn't mean to throw that on you.."

I shake my head "no- no I want to help...just didn't expect you to say that"

He chuckles softly and grabs my hand "we've got this...let's go get him.."

I nod and start walking into the house, we explain the situation then pick up baby Teddy...

Tears fill my eyes as I stare down at the small baby in my arms..the baby that didn't even get a chance to know his parents, the baby that was born into a world full of hate...

Harry gently wrapped his arms around me and Teddy attempting to comfort me

My body leans back against him as I attempt to keep my tears from falling, Teddy slowly stirs in my arms and looks up at me. A small smile takes over my face and Harry slowly leads me outside after grabbing Teddy's bags.

After a few hours we make it to the burrow. When we walk in all eyes land on us, Molly makes her way over to us and wraps her arms around us in a warm hug.

After a minute she pulls back and Ginny walks over and gently takes Teddy from my arms, after she walks away to take him to bed I turn around to face Harry as my arms wrap around his body.

We stand in the burrow kitchen hugging, crying and comforting each other for the next few hours before we finally head to bed deciding to sleep together since neither of us wanted to be alone.

-6 months later-

Y/N POV

It's been a long 6 months, Teddy has officially started crawling. Me and Harry made the decision to buy a small house together so we weren't staying at the burrow anymore.

Since living with Harry I've slowly started falling for him...how could I not? Watching him with Teddy makes my heart explode with happiness.

A few weeks ago Teddy started calling Harry Dada..We knew it would happen but it still surprised us to say the least. It made me realize that we aren't just Teddy's older siblings that have to care for him...were his parents...at least the closest thing to them now...

As I stand at the kitchen in the window lost in thought I feel a small hand touch my leg causing me to jump, then I hear a laugh coming from the kitchen doorway.

I look down and see Teddy sitting next to my leg staring up at me with his adorable smile..I pick him up and hold him close, my smile grows as he nuzzles his face into my neck

-HARRY'S POV-

I wake up to a small cry, I reach over and grab my glasses and put them on before turning to see if y/n was still asleep, I had came into her room last night after another nightmare.

I frown slightly when I see the bed is empty. My gaze snaps over to the crib in the corner of the room that has a whining baby in it. I get up and walk over to him and pick him up.

As we make our way out of the room and downstairs to make him his morning bottle I see y/n in the kitchen zoned out. I stand and admire her for a moment before snapping out of it.

I smile and set Teddy down when he starts squirming, he crawls his way over to her and grabs onto her leg causing her to jump. A laugh escapes my lips as she looks down at him before picking him up. I continue watching them as Teddy snuggles closer to her, watching her with Teddy is my favorite thing...She's so gorgou- wait. no she's my best friend...

A small sigh leaves my lips as I shake my head to try and get rid of the thoughts

Y/N POV

I turn around to face Harry only to find him leaning against the doorway with only his sleep pants on..

I look away from him to hide my blush, he makes his way towards us and kisses my forehead softly whispering a "good morning..."

I nod and say a small good morning back before busying myself with making Teddy his morning bottle, after it's made I take him into the living room and lay him down in his bouncer seat (were gonna say they have those things-) and give him his bottle before heading back to the kitchen

When I get there the kitchen is empty so I start with the dishes from last night before making some breakfast. As I flip the pancakes I feel arms wrap around my waist causing a gasp to fall from my lips.

I turn around and look at Harry who has a smirk on his lips, I gently smack his chest "you scared me!"

He laughs "your very jumpy this morning, everything okay?"

I nod and turn back around "just...another nightmare last night is all" I finish the food and set it onto plates before moving myself out of his arms and handing him his plate

He nods and rests his head on my back before huffing in annoyance when I move away. He takes the plate while looking at me with a playful glare. A giggle erupts from me as I kiss his cheek and walk off to the living room, I sit on the couch and start eating.

-HARRY'S POV-

After y/n took Teddy to the living room to give him his bottle I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. After I finish with that I walk back to the kitchen to find her finishing up the dishes, a smile forms on my face.

I know I shouldn't be feeling like this, she probably doesn't feel the same way but...the heart wants what the heart wants right?

After a few minutes of just admiring her I walk over as finishes up breakfast and wrap my arms around her waist, she jumps again causing me to laugh softly.

She turns around in my arms and I stare down at her pretty face laughing harder when she gently smacks my chest and says "you scared me!"

"your very jumpy this morning, everything okay?'

She nods and turns back around which allows me to rest my head on her back and hold her close, a frown overtakes my face when she says "just...another nightmare last night is all"

An annoyed huff leaves my lips when she moves out of my arms. When she hands me my plate I playfully glare at her causing adorable giggles to leave her pretty lips.

I watch as she walks out of the kitchen and into the living room, she takes a seat on the couch so I walk in and sit down next to her and start eating.

-TIME SKIP 9 HOURS-

Y/N POV

As I finish getting Teddy ready for dinner, just into some comfier clothes. I sigh and head back to the kitchen somewhat glad when I find it empty.

Harry has been extremely touchy all day..It's driving me crazy. Also making it very hard to ignore my feelings for him. I set Teddy in his highchair and start getting stuff out for dinner when Harry comes inside.

He walks into the kitchen and over to Teddy kissing his forehead and nodding along to the small babbled that Teddy says. I watch them for a minute but quickly look away when he looks over at me.

As I finish dinner I make me and Harry's plates before giving Teddy things he can eat.

We sit down at the table and start eating. A very thick tension settles over us only letting up when we focus on the small boy who is making a mess..again

After we finish dinner Harry takes Teddy to give him a bath, I stay downstairs and clean up everything from dinner. Just as i'm about to finish up cleaning I hear someone clear their throat.

My head turns and I see Harry standing the doorway. He makes his way over to me and leans against the counter "you okay?"

I nod and go back to washing the dishes only to have my arm grabbed, my head snapped up to look at him "your not- what's wrong? did i do something?"

I sigh and set the plate down that I was washing "nothing is wrong. i'm fine."

He scoffs and pulls me close to him "right. you done lying to me yet?"

I groan and and push myself away from him. "this! this is what's wrong!"

He stares at me confused "what are you talking about?"

I sigh and motion back and forth between us "this. you. you and your touchiness! i-it's driving me insane! i'm trying so hard to not fall for you- well to ignore the feelings I have for you but you make it so hard! with the constant touching and helping and being an amazing dad! a-and the no shirts, and the sleeping in my bed! i'm in love with you but i'm trying to not be but your making it so damn har-"

He cuts me off with a kiss, a very passionate yet sloppy kiss. I gasp softly and kiss back while wrapping my arms around his neck as I deepen it slightly only to be interrupted by a small voice "Dada! Dada!"

We pull back and look over at Teddy who's crawling his way over to us with a smile. Harry smiles and leans down and picks him up before looking at me with a smile "you are supposed to be in bed little man"

I smile and kiss his cheek when Teddy laughs " awe did Dada try and put you to bed hm?" I take him from Harry's arms and hold him closely.

Harry smiles and kisses my forehead and chuckles "let's get you both to bed hm?"

I nod and start walking towards my room with Harry behind me following us. I set Teddy down in his crib and give him his pacifier.

We both stand and watch over Teddy as he falls asleep. Once he falls asleep I turn and look at Harry who's already looking at me. I smile as he leans in and kisses me softly.

We make our way to my bed and lay down facing each other. As we stare at each other I finally speak up "what does this mean..?"

He smiles and cups my face gently "I'm hoping you'll be my girl.."

I smile and nod kissing him again. He kisses back and pulls me close to him. After awhile we finally settle down and rest my head against his chest and relax.

He holds me close while rubbing my back gently. "goodnight my love.."

I smile cuddling close to him "goodnight..."

TAGLIST

@notthewaythatiloveyou

I love this so much!! I'm so sorry it took so dang long o write but I hop you like it!!

[smoshmouthfastnights]

fic: beautiful oblivion (part one)

summary: "Later that day - much later - when she and Amanda are safe in the parking lot away from prying eyes and ears, she’ll admit that she was imagining Amanda all over her while making direct eye contact with Shayne and that it sent her whole world barreling off its axis."

special shout out to @poppyfamily for all the inspiration and the beautiful moodboard!

note: none of this is meant to represent the real people or their thoughts/feelings. this is all pretend.

The break room was empty, which wasn’t typical for a Tuesday morning. Amanda wondered absently if she was super early or if everyone else was unusually late. Most days, she walked in to find Shayne already standing at the coffee machine with two mugs placed beside him. It’d become a habit they’d fallen into since the podcast started; it was either the first thing they shot during a block or the last thing. Either way, coffee was required. 

Today, Amanda was alone. At least for the moment. Shayne was probably still in his morning workout. Everyone else was always fashionably late. Angela, Chanse, Trevor and Arasha were the kind of people who walked in with smoothies or food from the nearby cafe. They met there every morning. Amanda joined them every once in awhile, but she hadn’t since she and Courtney…

Courtney. 

Amanda’s grip on her mug tightened. The coffee was still brewing. The machine was whirring and squeaking through its process, but Amanda couldn’t hear it anymore. She was being mentally whisked back to last night and the night before and the night before that and 

Fuck. 

She closed her eyes to it. All it did was make the memories brighter and more cohesive. The intensity in blue eyes, the persistence in her kiss. The heat between them that sparked into a wildfire neither of them could have doused. God himself wouldn’t have been able to tear her out of Courtney’s arms or from between her legs. 

The coffee machine stopped, and in the vacuum of silence it left behind came sure and easy footsteps. The slightest scuffing of tennis shoes. It was too light to be Shayne. He walked heavy and loud. No. Not Shayne. Shayne would’ve announced himself by now. This person was being a little too quiet and Amanda was refusing to turn around. 

The brush of fingertips along her lower back gave it away. Nobody else would’ve touched her with that much intent. It was Courtney. 

Damn. 

“How’d you know I was thinking about you?” She asked, turning her head to meet mischievous blue eyes. 

Courtney smirked while Amanda quietly took in the crop top and bell bottom jeans. A Courtney special. Sexy as fuck. 

“I didn’t know for sure.” The blonde replied. “But I had a hunch.” 

Amanda wanted to do so many things in that moment. She wanted to kiss. She wanted to touch. She wanted to grab. None of that happened. Instead, she took a step to the side to fight off the urge. They weren’t “out” to the office and anyone could walk in whenever. 

Courtney didn’t flinch. She simply reached for Amanda’s coffee mug, hand wrapping nonchalantly around Amanda’s. Amanda let the touch happen for a long, drawn out second and then slid her hand away. Courtney’s fingers lingered before lifting the mug to her lips. There was the most inappropriate groan at the sip she took. 

Amanda rose an eyebrow at her. “Good?” 

“Delicious.” Emphasis. So much fucking emphasis. A sparkle in those unfairly pretty eyes. Teeth sinking into her bottom lip. 

Amanda was about to choke on her own tongue. “Court.” 

“What?” Courtney put the coffee back down and reached up to the cabinet to grab her own mug. The action had her crop top rising up even higher. 

Amanda stared, and her mind easily played back the feeling of all that skin under her fingertips. The way every hitch in Courtney’s breath hit her in the back of the throat because they were locked in helpless, needy kisses. 

She really, really needed someone to save her. Immediately. Otherwise, she was going to lift Courtney onto the counter and go to town. 

No one came. Amanda was forced to save herself by breathing extra deep. They were lovers, sure, but they were also friends. She could be normal. She could be calm. They’d been friends a lot longer than they’d been hooking up. It hadn’t even been a week. Amanda could do this. Easily. 

Actually, she couldn’t. 

“Are we still okay?” The nerves surrounding the sudden change in their friendship were normal, right? Checking in with Courtney was the right thing to do. The healthy thing. 

Courtney’s smile stayed in place, her expression sloping into sympathy and affection. “Better than okay.”

“Really?” Again, she wanted to grab and hold and kiss, but she didn’t know what Courtney would be receptive to. They hadn’t talked about what the professional boundaries would be. She settled for smiling wide and reaching down to squeeze at Courtney’s fingers. 

Courtney squeezed right back, but she allowed the touch to linger longer than necessary. 

“Really.” 

She came closer, the gap between them becoming insignificant. Amanda swallowed down the nerves that bloomed to life in her chest. Why was she so nervous. This was Courtney. Courtney, who was very blatantly lifting onto her tiptoes to kiss Amanda on the mouth. 

Oh. 

Oh, shit.

Amanda’s body did all the reacting for her brain. Her hands were instantly splayed at the small of Courtney’s back, her fingers tingling at the feel of being reunited with all that warm skin. Courtney arched into her, arms looping over Amanda’s shoulders. The kiss itself was chaste, maybe. It held no deeper, sexual need or connotation. It was just both of them stealing the smallest, smallest second for the blossoming something between them. 

Amanda let her fingertips press into bare skin more insistently, trying in vain to imprint herself on Courtney somehow. Courtney whimpered into her mouth, and the arms around her tightened. Unfortunately, the kiss ended, but Courtney stayed painfully close. She nuzzled Amanda sweetly, her smile showing all her teeth, her pupils blown out from the quiet desire that was buzzing between them. Amanda’s eyes flicked down to her lips. 

“Oh, fuck. My bad. I didn’t realize…”

The voice didn’t belong to either of them, so they both jumped. Amanda hadn’t even heard the door swing open, but it had, because Shayne was standing there, looking stupidly buff in one of his plain white t-shirts.

Courtney untangled herself, but both of her hands stroked at Amanda’s arms as she did. 

Amanda cleared her throat, not used to feeling awkward around Shayne. He was for all intents and purposes her best friend, and she wanted him to turn around and leave so badly. 

“Morning, Shayne.” Courtney didn’t sound the slightest bit affected. 

Shayne stepped further into the room, and now Amanda could make out the palest blush high on his cheekbones. She laughed at him. He was Shayne, but he was still a man. Seeing two of his attractive female friends pressed into each other must have been exciting. 

“You all right, Shayne?” She asked, teasing, her mood calming down into regular work mode. Must tease Shayne. She clapped him on the back as he went past her to get a mug for himself. 

He flipped her off. She laughed. Courtney settled into a lean against the counter, one hand sliding close to where Amanda was leaning back. Amanda didn’t object to their fingers tangling together on the countertop. 

It was a friendly interaction. An interaction that could’ve happened between them at any given time on any given day. An interaction that in no way implied they were fucking. Which they were. A lot. 

Shayne was pouring his coffee, but he glanced over at them midway, his eyes intense and curious. “Am I the only one who knows about this?”

Amanda waved her free hand dismissively. “Nah. Angela knows. Duh.”  

Angela was the first person she told, actually. Shayne should’ve known that. 

“Of course.” He snorted a laugh. 

“Arasha knows, too.” Court said. 

That didn’t come as a shock, either. 

“Well, that’s the last time I’ll think I’m special.” Shayne joked, sipping at his coffee.

“Why would you ever think that?” Amanda knew it was a slam dunk; it made Shayne nearly spray coffee everywhere. She smiled like she did every single time she made him laugh. It was quite high on her list of favorite things to do. 

Besides, well. She glanced down at Courtney, who looked back up at her with adoration painted onto her own smile. Okay, maybe making Shayne laugh had fallen farther down on her list of favorite things. Below all the things she’d been doing to Courtney and vice versa. 

Nope. Bad thought. They’d get no work done whatsoever if she kept thinking about dragging Courtney off somewhere private. 

The break room door flew open at that exact moment. Angela and the others, all barreling in one behind the other, laughing and talking so loudly that it drove Amanda right out of her head. Her and Courtney made pointed eye contact, but the spell was broken. Something resembling normalcy took over, especially when Angela threw an arm across each of their waists and stepped right in between them. 

“Morning, bitches!”

Amanda laughed at her idiot friend. Angela was so unabashedly Angela. It was one of the most endearing things ever. 

“Jesus, Angela, the volume.” Shayne feigned a pain at his temple. 

“Shut the fuck up!”

Well.

Leave it to Angela to cleanse a room of tension. 

_______

Courtney Miller was a consummate professional, okay. Nothing happening interpersonally between herself and her coworkers was not going to affect the onscreen vibes. For that reason, she sat herself right next to Amanda on the games stage, ignoring Spencer attempting to resituate her. The way Courtney waved him off made Amanda giggle, a sound that sent Courtney’s heart racing like it was behind the wheel of the Mach 5. 

She leaned back casually in her seat just as Amanda’s arm settled across the back of Courtney’s chair. They made knowing eye contact, Amanda’s tongue peeked out between her teeth. Shayne quietly took the seat on the opposite side of Amanda and smirked at the both of them. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Shayne.” Amanda teased. 

The stage was noisy as hell, everyone bustling around to get everything prepared for the actual shoot. Courtney was so used to the cacophony it was nothing more than a low hum. Shayne and Amanda were having a conversation about something they were planning for the podcast. An ‘advice’ episode with cast and crew who needed help with any kind of life problem. 

Courtney couldn’t help but smile at the idea. Shayne and Amanda were adorably sincere in all ways. They were going to give the most heartwarming advice ever. It helped that they both had such similar outlooks on what life was about, something Courtney clocked long before either Amanda or Shayne admitted it. 

What could she say. She observed them both a lot. And she observed Amanda with more than just her eyes. 

No. Not the greatest track to go down right before cameras rolled. 

“What do you think, Court?” Amanda used an elbow to nudge her. 

Courtney burst back into reality, her more inappropriate thoughts about Amanda refusing to subside. Ugh. That was so unfortunate. 

“What do I think about what?”

“The podcast idea, silly!” 

Oh. Right. Duh.

She couldn’t look at Amanda; her mind was too taken with flashbacks of Amanda in her bed, body so pliant and willing, hands and lips and tongue learning Courtney like they were made to do it. 

Looking at Shayne actually didn’t help, either. She’d held the most lowkey of crushes on Shayne for as long as she could remember, and looking at Shayne while vividly recalling getting fucked was whiplash like Courtney had never felt in her life. 

Her stomach bottomed out, the rush of something so intense it nearly knocked her out of the chair. She wondered what her face was doing because Shayne’s brow was furrowing in confusion. 

Courtney swallowed down the wave of arousal that struck her. “Sorry. It sounds like a great idea.”

Amanda rubbed a hand along her shoulders. “You okay, Court?” 

Her eyes met Amanda’s again. God, she was so fucking pretty, even with concern written all over her. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m good.”

Neither of them seemed convinced. 

“You guys, I’m fine.”

Later that day - much later - when she and Amanda are safe in the parking lot away from prying eyes and ears, she’ll admit that she was imagining Amanda all over her while making direct eye contact with Shayne and that it sent her whole world barreling off its axis. 

Amanda just looked at her, a little stunned at the vivid nature of the confession. Her lips pursed, she replied, 

“How long have you been into Shayne?”

Courtney laughed. “Can’t remember when I wasn’t.”

Amanda took that in for a long, long moment, her face not giving a thing away. “And you’re into me.”

It wasn’t a question. Courtney answered, anyway. “Obviously.”

Amanda went very, very quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Courtney could practically see her brain whirring around behind those deep brown eyes. 

“What’s up?” She prodded when the silence went on a fraction too long. 

“What if I’m into Shayne, too?”

Courtney’s eyes widened. She wasn’t all that surprised, really. More so that Amanda was saying it so nonchalantly, like they weren’t discussing both of them being into a person who wasn’t the one they were hooking up with. 

“Are you?”

Amanda shrugged. “It’s kind of hard not to be.”

Courtney shook her head in disbelief. “What are we talking about here?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s helpful, Mandy. Thanks.” Courtney replied, the sarcasm her only defense mechanism.

“I’m sorry.” Amanda said, hands sliding into the pockets of her jeans. “Why don’t you just come back to my place? We can talk about all this there. Or not talk. Whichever.”

Courtney snorted at the invitation. “Okay.”

She crossed the small distance between them and leaned up to press a kiss against Amanda’s jaw. “Drive safe.”

“You, too.” Amanda said, dimpled smile big and adorable. 

That was the night the plan was set in motion. 

[ff-rtp]

Ballet in blood

Part 6

Im soooooooo excited for you guys to get to the more tensioned scenes! I hope you going to like it ! 🙏🏻

Genre : angst ,fluff , some smut? Mafia!AU

Pairing : Chanyeol x fem!reader

Warnings⚠️: mentions of violence, shouting, guns, drugs, swearing alcool and some spicy scenes .

Count: 7.3k

Chapter 6

The night unfolded slowly, a kind of stillness settling over them after the intensity of their shared kiss. Chanyeol pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on the curve of N/a’s waist, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against her skin. For a moment, neither of them said anything, caught in the delicate balance of what had just happened. The world outside felt far away.

Chanyeol, ever the silent observer, was the first to move. “You should stay the night,” he said, his voice low and steady, but there was an unmistakable tenderness in his tone. “It’s too late, and I don’t want you out there alone.”

N/a didn’t argue. The idea of going back to her empty apartment felt strange now, especially after the night they had just shared. She nodded, her chest still tight with the emotions she couldn’t quite name. Her mind was buzzing with the realization of how much things had changed between them, how easily she had fallen into this connection with him.

Chanyeol stood up, offering his hand to help her from the couch. His grip was firm, reassuring, and he guided her through the house toward one of the spare rooms. It was just as sleek and modern as the rest of the house, but there was a warmth to it that made her feel at ease. The bed was massive, its dark sheets neatly made, and the soft glow of the nightstand light cast a calming ambiance.

“I’ll get you something to sleep in,” he murmured, leaving her standing by the bed as he disappeared into the hallway. N/a sat down, letting out a slow breath as she glanced around. The room was luxurious, far beyond what she was used to. The contrast between their lives was stark. She, who had scraped by on scholarships and hard work, and him, who had more money than he seemed to know what to do with. And yet, here they were, together in a way that felt unexpectedly natural.

Chanyeol returned moments later with one of his shirts, handing it to her with a quiet smile. “It’s big, but it’ll do,” he said, his voice softer now. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she took the shirt from him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Chanyeol hesitated for a moment, watching her with an intensity that made her heart flutter. Then, with a quiet exhale, he turned to leave, but not before pausing at the door. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything.”

There was a weight in his words, as if he was making a promise, one she hadn’t asked for, but one she felt deep in her bones.

Before he could leave completely, N/a’s voice broke the silence. “Chanyeol… wait.”

He turned, his eyes locking onto hers, the dim light casting shadows on his sharp features. “What is it?”

N/a swallowed, gathering her thoughts. The events of the night weighed heavily on her, and the reality of her situation was starting to sink in. “I… I don’t know how to say this, but… what if I stayed here? Not just tonight, but… longer?”

Chanyeol’s expression softened, as if he had been waiting for her to ask. He took a step closer, the tension in his shoulders easing. “I was going to ask you the same thing,” he said, his voice low and serious. “You shouldn’t be living in that tiny apartment, struggling with money and worrying about your safety. Not anymore.”

N/a blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected him to offer so freely, but the idea made sense. Living with him would solve so many of her problems, saving money, staying safe, and… being with him. It felt too fast, but at the same time, something about it felt right.

“I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything,” Chanyeol continued, his eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. “But I can take care of you. You can focus on your dancing without worrying about rent or food. You’ll be safe here.”

N/a looked at him, her mind racing. The logical part of her was screaming that this was too much, too soon. But the part of her that had already started to trust him, the part that had felt safe in his arms tonight, was louder.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ll stay.”

Chanyeol’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare, genuine expression that made her heart flutter. “Good,” he said softly. “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”

That night, N/a found herself lying in the unfamiliar comfort of Chanyeol’s guest bed, wrapped in the soft fabric of his shirt, her mind racing with everything that had happened. Her thoughts swirled with memories of their kiss, the violence she had witnessed, and the unexpected tenderness Chanyeol had shown her. Sleep didn’t come easily, but when it finally did, it was deep and dreamless, the safety of his home a comforting blanket around her.

The next morning, N/a woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the large windows. The events of the night before felt distant, like a dream she wasn’t quite ready to process yet. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and reached for her phone, which was buzzing on the nightstand.

A message from her ballet academy director lit up the screen, and her heart skipped a beat as she read the words.

Director: “N/a, congratulations! You’ve been chosen to lead the new routine at the Korean National Opera. This is a huge opportunity, your hard work has paid off!”

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart racing with excitement. This was the moment she had been working for her entire life. The Korean National Opera was the pinnacle of success for a dancer like her. It was more than she could have ever dreamed.

She wanted to scream, to jump up and down with joy, but instead, she found herself staring at her phone, unsure of who to share the news with. Sunny would be excited for her, of course, but there was only one person she really wanted to tell.

Without thinking, she dialed Chanyeol’s number. He answered almost immediately, his deep voice calm and steady on the other end of the line.

“N/a?” His voice softened when he spoke her name, making her heart skip a beat.

“I got it,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement. “I’m going to lead the new routine at the Korean National Opera. It’s… it’s the biggest thing I’ve ever done.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, she wondered if he understood just how important this was to her. But when he spoke again, his voice was filled with a quiet pride that made her chest tighten.

“I knew you could do it,” he said softly. “You deserve this, N/a. I’m proud of you.”

N/a’s eyes welled up with tears at his words. It felt strange, hearing him say that. Chanyeol, the cold and ruthless man she had met only a short time ago, was proud of her. It warmed something inside her that she hadn’t realized was frozen.

“I want to celebrate with you,” he added, breaking the silence. “Let me take you out for dinner tonight. We’ll celebrate properly.”

N/a smiled, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

The day passed in a blur of excitement and nerves for N/a. She practiced her new routine relentlessly, her mind occasionally drifting to the thought of dinner with Chanyeol. Her heart raced with anticipation at the idea of spending more time with him, but there was also a sense of unease. It was hard to forget the danger that seemed to follow him, the dark world he lived in. Yet, she couldn’t deny how safe she felt when she was with him, even if that safety came with its own complications.

By the time evening rolled around, N/a returned to Chanyeol’s home, her new home, she reminded herself. The thought still felt foreign, but there was a certain comfort in knowing she had a place to return to, somewhere stable, somewhere he was.

She found him waiting for her in the living room, dressed in dark, well-fitted clothes that made him look as effortlessly powerful as ever. His eyes flickered with something unreadable when he saw her, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on her longer than usual.

N/a felt a blush creep up her cheeks, surprised by the simple compliment. She had chosen a simple black dress, something elegant but understated. It wasn’t about impressing him, but she couldn’t help wanting to look nice for the evening. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice soft.

Chanyeol’s eyes softened as he approached her, his large hand gently resting on the small of her back as he led her toward the door. “I’ve made reservations at a place I think you’ll like,” he said as they stepped into the cool night air. “It’s quiet, intimate.”

She nodded, her nerves still buzzing with the excitement of her news and the quiet thrill of being with him. As they drove through the city, N/a found herself sneaking glances at Chanyeol, watching the way the lights from the city danced across his face. There was something magnetic about him, something that made her feel both drawn to him and wary at the same time.

When they arrived at the restaurant, N/a was struck by its elegance. It was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, its entrance marked by a discreet sign and soft lighting. The atmosphere inside was warm and inviting, a sharp contrast to the harshness of the world outside. Chanyeol guided her to a private table near the back, away from the prying eyes of the other patrons.

As they sat down, N/a felt a sense of calm wash over her. Despite the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced over the past few days, being here with Chanyeol felt strangely right.

“You’ve been quiet,” Chanyeol observed as he studied her from across the table, his gaze penetrating. “Are you nervous?”

N/a hesitated, glancing down at the menu in front of her. “A little,” she admitted. “This… all of this is new to me. The scholarship, the opportunity at the opera… and you.”

Chanyeol’s expression softened at her words, his intense gaze never leaving her. “You’re handling it all better than you think,” he said gently. “You’ve worked hard for everything you have. You deserve this, N/a.”

She looked up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. There was something comforting in the way he spoke to her, as if he truly believed in her potential, even if she didn’t always believe in herself.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in her lap. “It means a lot, hearing that from you.”

Chanyeol reached across the table, his hand covering hers in a gesture that felt both intimate and grounding. His touch was warm, steady, and it sent a shiver through her. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said softly.

They ordered their meal, and as the evening went on, the conversation between them flowed easily. They talked about her ballet, about the grueling hours of practice and the pressure of leading the new routine at the Korean National Opera. Chanyeol listened intently, asking questions that showed he was genuinely interested in her world, even though it was so different from his own.

At one point, she found herself laughing at a story about one of her instructors, the sound surprising her as much as it seemed to surprise him. Chanyeol’s expression softened as he watched her, a quiet smile playing at his lips.

“I like hearing you laugh,” he admitted, his voice lower now, more intimate.

N/a blushed, feeling the heat of his gaze on her. “You make it hard to do that sometimes,” she teased, but there was no malice in her tone.

Chanyeol chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down her spine. “I suppose I do,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly as he leaned back in his chair, watching her with a gaze that felt both protective and possessive. “But I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me.”

“I’m starting to,” N/a said honestly, her voice soft. “It’s just… complicated.”

Chanyeol’s expression darkened slightly, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place in his eyes, something dangerous. “I know it is,” he said quietly. “But I’m going to keep you safe, N/a. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

The intensity of his words sent a chill down her spine, but she found herself believing him. She didn’t fully understand why, but she trusted him, even knowing the darkness that surrounded his life.

As the evening came to a close, Chanyeol insisted on walking her back to his car, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back. The night air was cool, and N/a found herself leaning into his warmth as they walked. It was a simple gesture, but it made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

When they finally reached the car, Chanyeol opened the door for her, his dark eyes lingering on her face. “Thank you for tonight,” she said quietly as she slid into the passenger seat.

Chanyeol smiled, a rare, genuine smile that made her heart skip a beat. “The pleasure was mine,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’m proud of you, N/a. And I meant what I said before. I’ll always be here for you.”

The ride home was quiet, but the tension between them had shifted into something softer, something unspoken but understood. N/a knew that her life was changing in ways she hadn’t expected, but for the first time in a long time, she felt ready to embrace it.

When they arrived back at his home, Chanyeol walked her inside, the warmth of the house enveloping them as they stepped through the door. As they stood in the entryway, N/a turned to him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before she could turn away, Chanyeol stepped closer, his hand cupping her cheek gently. His eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Instead, he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a vulnerability she hadn’t expected from him. “Stay with me.”

N/a’s heart raced, her body frozen in place as she looked up at him, her mind spinning with the weight of his words. She didn’t know what staying with him meant, didn’t know if she was ready for what that might lead to.

But as she looked into his eyes, filled with a mix of protectiveness and something deeper, she found herself nodding, her heart making the decision for her.

“I’ll stay,” she whispered, and in that moment, she knew there was no turning back.

The air between them shifted almost immediately after N/a whispered her consent to stay. Chanyeol’s forehead pressed gently against hers, and in that moment, the softness of his touch was replaced by something more intense, more primal. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, the warmth of his hand spreading across her skin as he tilted her head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that she had only glimpsed before, but now it was undeniable. She felt it too, a pull deep inside her that she couldn’t resist even if she wanted to.

Without a word, Chanyeol’s lips crashed against hers, more demanding this time. There was no hesitation, no tentative exploring like before, just raw need. His hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer, as if the space between them was unbearable. N/a responded instantly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer as the kiss deepened. It was frantic, desperate, and filled with a passion neither of them could control.

Chanyeol’s hands moved over her body, rough yet careful, as if he was memorizing every curve, every inch of her. He backed her against the wall, pinning her there with his body, his lips leaving hers only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. N/a gasped at the sensation, her mind spinning as she gave herself over to the moment, to him.

They didn’t speak. There was no need for words now, not when every touch, every breath was speaking for them. Chanyeol’s hands moved to the hem of her dress, pulling it up in one swift motion, his eyes dark with desire as he drank her in. The intensity in his gaze made her tremble, but it wasn’t fear, it was anticipation. She wanted this just as much as he did, maybe even more.

“Are you sure?” Chanyeol’s voice was low, gravelly, as he hovered above her, his breath hot against her ear.

“Yes,” N/a whispered, her voice shaking with desire. “I want this… I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear. With a growl of satisfaction, Chanyeol lifted her effortlessly, carrying her to his bedroom. The world outside vanished as they tumbled onto the bed, their bodies entwined in a fevered rush of kisses and touches. Clothes were discarded in a blur, leaving them skin to skin, nothing between them but the heat of their shared need.

Chanyeol’s lips found hers again, and this time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate. His hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and N/a couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped her lips. Every touch, every movement felt electric, as if they were two halves of something that had been waiting to be made whole.

Their bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, a primal dance of passion and desire. Chanyeol was rough, but not careless, his strength a comfort as he took her completely. N/a arched into him, her fingers digging into his back as waves of pleasure washed over her, pulling her deeper into the moment. She had never felt anything like this before, so raw, so real. It was as if they were both burning, consumed by the fire they had ignited between them.

Time lost meaning as they reached the peak together, their breaths mingling, their bodies trembling in the aftermath of their shared release. Chanyeol collapsed beside her, his chest heaving as he pulled her into his arms, their skin still slick with sweat. They lay there in silence, the only sound the steady beat of their hearts slowly returning to normal.

N/a felt his arms tighten around her as he pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together as if they were always meant to be like this. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heart, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But before sleep could claim her completely, she felt him stir beside her.

Chanyeol’s hand moved to her hair, gently stroking her head in a way that was surprisingly tender after the intensity of their earlier passion. His fingers threaded through her hair, calming, soothing. N/a was half-asleep, her body relaxed, when she heard him whisper, his voice barely above a breath.

“You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his tone thick with emotion. “I don’t deserve you, but… you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words sent a pang through her chest, and though her body was heavy with sleep, she wanted to respond, to tell him that he was wrong, that he was more than he believed. But she stayed still, her breathing steady, letting him think she was asleep.

Chanyeol’s voice cracked slightly as he continued, and she could hear the tears in his voice, the vulnerability that he never let anyone see. “I’ll protect you, N/a. No matter what it takes… even if it costs me my life. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A tear slid down N/a’s cheek as she listened to him, her heart aching at the raw honesty in his confession. He sounded so broken, so weighed down by the world he lived in, and yet, he was willing to sacrifice everything for her.

Chanyeol pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there for a moment before he rested his cheek against her hair. “You’re everything to me,” he whispered. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

N/a’s chest tightened with emotion, her heart swelling with a mixture of love and sadness. She hadn’t realized how much she meant to him, how deeply he felt for her. And in that moment, she knew she was falling for him too, falling in a way that was both terrifying and inevitable.

As sleep finally claimed her, she held onto the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. Chanyeol’s whispered promises echoed in her mind, and she knew, without a doubt, that he meant every word. No matter how dangerous his world was, no matter how dark, he would protect her. And somehow, that made her feel safer than she ever had before.

For the first time in a long time, N/a felt like she wasn’t alone. She had someone who would fight for her, someone who would stand by her side no matter what. And as she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she was falling for him too.

The next day at the academy, N/a pushed her body harder than ever before. The rehearsals for the new routine were brutal, every pirouette, every jump, demanded perfection. Her muscles screamed in protest with each movement, and by the end of the session, she was drenched in sweat, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. Bruises started to blossom on her legs and arms, a painful reminder of how much she was pushing herself, but there was something else too. Satisfaction. She had done it, her body was tired, but she had nailed every single move. Despite the pain, she couldn’t help but feel proud.

As she walked off the studio floor, stretching her sore muscles, the director made an unexpected appearance. His sharp eyes scanned the dancers, before settling on N/a. “We need to start thinking about costumes,” he announced, his tone formal but excited. “The designs are ready, and they’ll need to be fitted soon.”

N/a’s curiosity piqued. She had heard whispers about the costumes but hadn’t seen anything yet. When the director finally showed them a preview, her breath hitched. The costume was stunning, pure white, encrusted with shimmering crystals, diamonds, and intricate sparkles that made it look like something straight out of a dream. It was a vision of elegance, perfect for the lead role she was about to take on. But when the director mentioned the price, her heart sank. The cost was exorbitant, more than she could ever afford.

As much as N/a tried to focus on the beauty of the costume, the worry gnawed at her. How was she going to manage this? Ballet scholarships didn’t cover costumes, and she was already struggling with her living expenses. Still, she pushed the worry to the back of her mind for now. The rehearsals were relentless, demanding every ounce of her energy and attention. Day after day, her muscles ached, her feet blistered, and the bruises grew darker, but each session brought her closer to perfection. Each day, she worked harder, stayed later, and sometimes lost track of time altogether.

Chanyeol had become part of her routine in ways she hadn’t expected. His calls, once just occasional, had grown frequent. At first, it was simple check-ins, but now, it was almost daily. He worried about her, especially when she stayed late at the academy. His voice was a strange comfort, his concern unfamiliar but welcomed.

One particular night, after an especially grueling rehearsal, she was later than usual. As she left the academy, her body was sore, and all she wanted was to crawl into bed. She called Chanyeol on her way out, letting him know she’d be home soon.

“I’m heading home now. Don’t worry, just tired,” she said, trying to sound upbeat despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

His voice was steady but firm. “You should have called earlier. I would have picked you up.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her tone softened. “I’ll be home in no time.”

Instead of taking her usual route, N/a decided to cut through an alley she hadn’t used before. It was darker, less crowded, but it would shave off several minutes from her walk. The soreness in her legs made the decision easy, even if the alley felt a little too quiet.

As she moved through the alley, a prickling sensation crept over her skin. She tried to shake it off, but something didn’t feel right. Her steps quickened, and she held the phone a little tighter, still on the line with Chanyeol, but saying nothing for a moment. That’s when she heard it, footsteps behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced over her shoulder but saw nothing at first. The footsteps echoed, growing closer. She tried to stay calm, telling herself it was just her imagination. But the sound of those steps matched hers, picking up whenever she sped up, slowing down when she hesitated.

Chanyeol, still on the other end of the line, immediately noticed her silence. “N/a? What’s going on?”

“I… I think someone’s following me,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“What?” Chanyeol’s tone sharpened instantly. “Where are you? Tell me.”

“I—” her breath hitched, panic setting in as she glanced around, her heart racing. “I’m in an alley. I thought it would be faster… but someone’s—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the footsteps sped up. She didn’t wait any longer. She broke into a sprint, the sound of her shoes pounding against the pavement, her breath coming in short gasps. Her phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground, but she didn’t stop to pick it up.

Her mind raced, her body moving on pure instinct as she weaved through the narrow alley. She could hear the footsteps behind her, getting closer. Panic clawed at her chest. She ducked behind a row of trash cans, trying to catch her breath, her heart hammering in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to stay calm, but every nerve in her body was screaming.

The sound of footsteps stopped. Silence. Her pulse was loud in her ears, and for a moment, she thought maybe she had lost them. But just as relief began to settle in, she felt it, a hand gripping her arm, yanking her roughly from her hiding place.

A scream caught in her throat. She was sure it was over. They had found her. But then—

“N/a.” The voice was low, familiar.

She opened her eyes to see Chanyeol, his grip firm but gentle as he pulled her toward him. Relief flooded her body, her legs almost giving out beneath her. Chanyeol wrapped an arm around her, his body tense as he scanned the alley.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tight with barely contained fury.

She nodded, unable to form words, still shaken by what had just happened. Chanyeol didn’t waste another second. His eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he surveyed their surroundings. Whoever had been following her was gone now, but the anger simmering in him was palpable.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, pulling her close to him as they moved out of the alley.

As they walked, N/a’s heart slowly returned to a normal rhythm, but she couldn’t shake the image of Chanyeol, his protective presence, his swift reaction. He had come for her, just as he said he would.

Once they were back in his car, the silence between them felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Chanyeol’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He didn’t say much, but the way he kept glancing at her told her everything she needed to know. He was worried, furious that she had been put in danger, and furious that he hadn’t been there sooner.

When they arrived at his place, Chanyeol didn’t let go of her hand, guiding her inside with a quiet but firm protectiveness. Once they were safe inside, he finally spoke, his voice soft but edged with a simmering anger.

“I told you, I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said, his hand still on her arm, his thumb tracing small circles in an unconscious effort to soothe both her and himself. “No one.”

N/a nodded, still shaken but grateful. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s not your fault,” he interrupted, his voice softening as he looked into her eyes. “But I’m not letting you out of my sight anymore. Not after tonight.”

The intensity in his gaze made her breath catch. This wasn’t just about protection anymore, there was something deeper, something that neither of them could deny. And in that moment, with Chanyeol’s hand still on her, the safety of his presence surrounding her, N/a knew that things between them had shifted again.

She wasn’t just some girl in his world anymore. She was someone he couldn’t bear to lose.

After the tense night they’d had, N/a stood under the hot stream of the shower, letting the water wash away the exhaustion, the fear, and the tension that had built up inside her. Her muscles ached from the day’s intense rehearsals, and her mind was still reeling from the events in the alley. She could hardly believe that Chanyeol had shown up when he did, like some dark protector.

Once she dried off and slipped into one of the oversized shirts Chanyeol had given her, she made her way to the bed, ready for sleep. As she climbed in, Chanyeol was sitting on the edge, watching her, his sharp eyes tracing the faint bruises on her arms and legs. He reached out, gently brushing his fingertips across a purple mark on her thigh.

“Did he touch you?” His voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge. His question wasn’t just curiosity, it was fury held in check, concern layered beneath his protective instincts.

N/a blinked, shaking her head quickly, realizing what he was asking. “No, no. These—” she glanced down at her legs and arms, “—these are from rehearsals. The routine has been brutal, and I’ve been pushing myself hard.”

Relief washed over his features, and something else, pride. He admired her determination, her strength. She wasn’t fragile, not in the way others might be. She was tough, driven, and that only made his desire to protect her stronger.

He watched as her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion finally pulling her under. She curled up into the pillows, her breathing evening out as she drifted off into sleep. Chanyeol stayed for a moment, watching her in the dim light. He couldn’t help but feel a strange pull, she was different. She didn’t belong to his world, not to the darkness that clung to him, but here she was, with him. And he wasn’t going to let her go.

Once she was asleep, Chanyeol stood, planning to get some work done. That’s when he noticed it, her phone, lying on the edge of the nightstand. He had picked it up earlier when they’d rushed out of the alley. He hadn’t had time to look at it, but now, in the quiet of the room, he couldn’t help but glance at it. The screen was cracked, the phone old and battered from use.

With a simple touch, the screen lit up, revealing a text message from Sunny: “Omg, the costume is so expensive. How are you going to manage it?”

His jaw tightened as he read the words. He didn’t even need to think about it, he knew exactly what he had to do. N/a didn’t need to worry about anything, least of all money. She had enough on her plate without struggling to cover expenses for something as vital as her ballet career.

The next morning, N/a stirred, the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains waking her slowly. As she sat up, her eyes landed on her nightstand, and there it was, a brand new phone sitting in place of her old one. Confusion furrowed her brow as she picked it up, inspecting it before glancing at Chanyeol, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a casual but unreadable expression.

She padded over to him, the phone still in her hand. “Chanyeol, what’s this?” she asked softly, holding up the sleek new device. “I… I can’t accept this. You’re doing too much for me already.” Her voice wavered, guilt creeping into her words. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, or your money.”

Chanyeol’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he closed the distance between them. His large hands gently cupped her face, tilting it up toward his. “When I said I’d take care of you,” he murmured, his voice low, “I meant it in every way. That means you don’t have to worry about anything. Not your phone, not your costume, nothing.”

Before she could protest further, he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss soft at first, but full of the unspoken promise he had made to her. He wasn’t going to let her struggle alone, not anymore. When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers for a moment, the intimacy between them palpable.

“I want you to focus on your dreams,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Let me handle the rest.”

N/a stared up at him, the intensity of his words leaving her speechless. She could see the determination in his eyes, the quiet resolve that told her this wasn’t something up for negotiation. A part of her wanted to argue, to insist she could handle it on her own. But another part of her,the part that had grown to trust him, to feel safe with him, wanted to accept the help he was offering. To let him take care of her, even if just for a little while.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice soft. “Thank you.”

Later that morning, Chanyeol drove her to the academy. The ride was quiet but comfortable, with occasional glances exchanged between them. He had a meeting scheduled with the director, but N/a didn’t ask too many questions. She knew he had his business to handle, and she had rehearsals to focus on.

When they arrived, Chanyeol walked her to the entrance, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. “I’ll see you later,” he murmured, his voice deep and reassuring.

She smiled up at him, feeling lighter than she had in days. “See you.”

As she headed to rehearsals, Chanyeol made his way to the director’s office. He knocked once before entering, not bothering to wait for permission. The director looked up, startled, but quickly masked his surprise with a practiced smile.

“Ah, Mr. Park, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

Chanyeol didn’t bother with pleasantries. He strode across the room and placed a thick stack of money on the director’s desk, his gaze hard, his tone brooking no argument. “This is for N/a’s costume,” he said flatly. “From now on, if she needs anything,anything, you come to me. Don’t ask her for money again.”

The director blinked, taken aback, but nodded quickly. “Of course, Mr. Park. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chanyeol didn’t wait for a response. He turned on his heel and left the office, his mind already returning to N/a and the promise he had made to her. She wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore, not money, not danger, not anything as long as he was there. And he wasn’t going anywhere.

As rehearsals progressed throughout the week, N/a found herself caught up in the rhythm of her demanding routine. Each day, she pushed herself harder, the exhaustion hanging over her like a heavy blanket. The bruises on her body had become familiar companions, a testament to her determination and resolve. She was proud of every mark, a reminder that she was fighting for her dreams.

But even amidst the pain and the long hours, there were moments of levity, especially when Chanyeol was around. After each rehearsal, she’d find herself texting him updates about how things were going. He would reply with encouragement, teasing messages that made her smile even when her muscles ached. The bond between them grew stronger, and she began to feel something deeper, a connection that neither of them had explicitly acknowledged but was palpable in every stolen glance and gentle touch.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, N/a sat on the edge of the stage, wiping sweat from her brow with a towel. Her fellow dancers were chatting and laughing, their energy infectious, but her mind wandered. She thought about her new phone and how Chanyeol had insisted on taking care of her. Despite her initial guilt, she found comfort in his actions. He was always there, checking in, making sure she had everything she needed.

As she stretched her tired legs, her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a message from Chanyeol: “How’s my ballerina doing?”

She smiled, her heart warming at his words. With a quick reply, she typed, “Sore but happy. Just finished a tough rehearsal.” She hesitated, then added, “I miss you.”

His response came almost immediately: “I miss you too. How about dinner later? I’ll pick you up.”

Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. Dinner with Chanyeol had become a highlight of her week. “Sounds perfect,” she replied, excitement bubbling within her.

Later that evening, N/a found herself anxiously preparing for his arrival. She changed into a simple yet elegant dress that hugged her curves, a look that was effortless but made her feel beautiful. She stared at her reflection, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirling inside her.

When Chanyeol knocked on her door, her heart skipped a beat. She opened the door, and there he stood, tall, handsome, and radiating an undeniable aura of confidence. He wore a fitted shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean physique, and when his eyes landed on her, a slow, appreciative smile spread across his face.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice warm.

“Thanks,” she replied, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and genuine, making her feel a flutter in her stomach. “Shall we?”

As they walked to his car, N/a felt the tension in the air shift, a current that wrapped around them. Chanyeol opened the passenger door for her, a small gesture that sent her heart racing. Once they were on their way, she found herself stealing glances at him, captivated by how effortlessly charming he was.

Over dinner, they fell into easy conversation, sharing stories and laughter. Chanyeol was surprisingly attentive, asking questions about her rehearsals, genuinely interested in her progress. N/a found herself opening up more than she usually did, her voice animated as she recounted the challenges she faced during practice and how she felt about leading the new routine.

They finished their meal, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. After dinner, they decided to take a walk in a nearby park, the air crisp and refreshing. As they strolled, Chanyeol took her hand, intertwining their fingers, and the warmth of his touch sent shivers down her spine.

“You deserve this, N/a,” he said earnestly. “You’ve put in so much effort, and it’s finally paying off.”

“Thank you for always being there for me,” she replied, her voice soft. “I don’t know how I would have managed without your support.”

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “I’ll always be here for you. You know that, right?”

She nodded, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. There was something reassuring in his touch, an unspoken promise that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.

As they enjoyed their meal, the conversation shifted. Chanyeol seemed to grow more contemplative, his eyes focused on her with an intensity that made her heart race. “Can I ask you something?” he said, his tone serious.

“Of course,” N/a replied, her curiosity piqued.

“Where do you see yourself in a few years?” he asked, searching her gaze. “What do you want for your future?”

N/a considered his question, her heart racing as she thought about her dreams. “I want to perform. I want to be part of something beautiful, something that makes people feel,” she said passionately. “But more than that, I want to be happy, truly happy. I want to share my life with someone who understands me.”

Chanyeol’s expression shifted, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual cool demeanor. “What if I told you that I want to be that person for you?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

N/a’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding. “You? You want to be with me?”

“More than anything,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You bring light into my life in a way I didn’t know I needed. I want to be with you through all of it, the good, the bad, everything.”

Her heart swelled at his confession, warmth spreading through her. “I feel the same way, Chanyeol. You’ve changed my life.”

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, she could see the uncertainty flicker across his face. “N/a, I know my life is complicated, and I’m not perfect. But I want to build a future with you. I want to be there for you, to support you in your dreams. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

N/a felt her heart race as she processed his words. “Chanyeol…”

He interrupted her softly, a nervous yet determined look in his eyes. “I want to ask you something important.”

In that moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, placing it gently on the table between them. “N/a, will you marry me?”

Time seemed to freeze as she stared at the box, her heart racing in disbelief. She opened it slowly, revealing a delicate ring, glistening under the soft restaurant lights. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him, struggling to find her voice.

“Chanyeol… are you serious?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life,” he replied, his gaze steady. “I know we’ve only just started this journey, but I want to take this step with you. You mean everything to me, and I can’t imagine a future without you.”

N/a felt a rush of warmth wash over her, the weight of his words settling in her heart. All the moments they had shared, the laughter, the fear, the intimacy, it all came rushing back. She realized that this was what she had been longing for, a future built together.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you!”

Chanyeol’s face broke into a radiant smile as he slipped the ring onto her finger. They both laughed, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks as he leaned across the table, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered, her heart swelling with happiness.

“Neither can I,” he replied, holding her tightly. “But it’s real, and I promise to protect you and love you for the rest of my life.”

They pulled back, gazing into each other’s eyes, the world around them fading as they reveled in the magic of their moment. In that restaurant, under the soft glow of the lights, they had found something profound, a bond that transcended their troubled pasts. It was the beginning of their forever, a new chapter filled with hope, love, and endless possibilities.

Part1 , Part2 , Part3, Part4, Part5, Part6, Part7.

[goodluckdetective]

Here’s the thing they will realize later, after hurts have been mended, apologies have been given and things have been properly said: neither of their plans would have worked.

In one world, Crowley says yes when Aziraphale begs him to stay, unable to leave his angel knowing he will soon walk into a pit of vipers more venomous than he ever was. He grits his teeth and accepts his halo back with shaking fingers, and tries to focus on the grin on Aziraphale’s face. He does not stop wearing black, nor does he stop going by Crowley: Aziraphale doesn’t want him to do either regardless. And when Aziraphale hands him a crank and a chart of stars, he actually manages to smile within white empty walls.

It works, for a time. Aziraphale, to his surprise, does not expect him to change other than his occult classification. The other angels are resistant, of course they are, but changes are made, actual good ones. Less people starve. The clause about the humility of the poor is thrown out and replaced with a doubling down against the rich. Unicorns make a comeback, though in small numbers. And after long days when work is done, Aziraphale asks Crowley to show him work on the stars, and they map out new galaxies that will last far behind 6000 years.

Crowley isn’t happy there: it is too clean, too sterile, too full of backhanded comments and belittling taunts. But he is not miserable either. And that’s perhaps the biggest surprise.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice the other angels planning the second coming after Aziraphale and him are both positive the plans have been scrapped for good. He notices before Azirpahale but not before Metatron has stripped him of heaven’s light once more and locked him in a cage with a bucket of holy water at the ready. For Metatron and the others know that Aziraphale can be tempted into what they want by or in this case, for, the original tempter himself.

Unlike Aziraphale, Heaven’s love has always been fickle. Crowley has always known this, has wanted Aziraphale to understand it too. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to see Aziraphale find him in the cage and realize that Heaven invited Crowley back to cage Aziraphale in return.

In another world, Aziraphale leaves the bookshop after a kiss that gives him enough second thoughts to leave the elevator behind. Crowley does not take off his sunglasses until Aziraphale is seated in the Bentley and Aziraphale hates himself when he sees the tears the shades hid. They embrace for a long time before Crowley pulls out one of the few books he actually keeps: a map of the stars.

They don’t go to Alpha Centuri because both have had more than enough of Gabriel. Instead, they go to other planets, other stars, some of which were born by the very star factory Crowley started. They spend time on Earth too, keeping an eye out for the second apocalypse Crowley warned Aziraphale they are planning. Aziraphale does as much good as he can on those visits, often wearing himself out to exhaustion. Every time they have to leave, when Heaven or Hell catch up to them: unlike their former bosses, they are enough of a threat to never leave alone. Crowley often has to carry Azirapahle away from the planet they long called home after these trips, the angel barely awake after doing as much as he can. Aziraphale knows he doesn’t like leaving either, he hates suffering as much as Aziraphale does, but unlike the angel, he’s able to separate himself from it instead of it eating him alive.

Aziraphale isn’t happy, away from Earth, from his dedication to doing good. But he is not miserable either. And perhaps that’s the biggest surprise.

Aziraphale plans to surprise Crowley with a proper dance in a lovely garden in France when they arrive to find the Earth is not the Earth anymore. Instead it is either one of the following: a burnt out husk of sulfur, or a glass dish like a macabre snow globe.

In the former scenario, there is no outrunning the demons, who want to ensure the last angel left (because they got Gabriel as soon as they could, Aziraphale was always going to be last) is dead and gone. With no power of Heaven to draw from, Aziraphale cannot run fast enough and Crowley cannot carry them both with enough speed to escape them. The demons catch up them both on a small house on a small planet and the house goes up in hellfire with a snap of a demon’s fingers.

When Crowley screams out his name, Aziraphale is sorry he will not be able to soothe his tears this time.

In the latter scenario, the glass globe that Heaven crows over like a magpie, Aziraphale looks at what Heaven has wrought and falls to his knees. He does not hear Crowley shout as he takes in what God’s plan has turned out to be, he does not feel Crowley shake his shoulders as he sees the world he loved preserved in its last moment of agony. He does not even feel his feathers burning until half of them have fallen out, his halo has cracked and his eyes start to bleed black.

If this was the ineffable plan, he thinks, he loathes every part of it. And as he falls, Crowley desperately trying to hold his feathers to skeleton-boned wings, he realizes there is no hell left to fall into, only a black hole where one demon will never find him again.

Neither of these situations happen. Instead there is an uncomfortable elevator ride, a silent car and more than enough tears. There will be more unpleasantness after that, such is the nature of things. But eventually, there will be awkward meetings, apologies shared, and forgiveness spoken. And one day, somehow, there will be a cottage in the South Downs where there is a garden almost as grand as Eden, a library to entice any bibliophile and a kisses that are not a goodbye but a hello.