#the evidence was stacked against the mc

[kinda-iconic]

Possession: A BloodBound spin-off

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the lateness; I’ve been struggling with fatigue this week and it has wiped me out.

Pairing: Adrian Raines x Human!MC (Amy - Amelia for short)

Word count: 4'000+

Tagging: @bloodboundismylife @choicesfannatalie22 @velvet1753 @choices-bird @nala-raines

Synopsis: Haunted by a reoccurring nightmare of Adrian, Amy must decide whether or not to confide in him… or conceal the truth.

Chapter 1: The Nightmare (Part II)

10 hours later…

Adrian sits adjacent to the window, having spent most of his day at a conference on the other side of the city, tapping his pen against the leg of his chair, his head swimming with thoughts of anything but business.

“Isn’t that right, Mr Raines?”

Adrian startles, quickly glancing up at the man standing at the foot of the table; the man stands tall, fingertips barely touching the surface as he regards Adrian with an apprehensive quirk of the brow, as if acknowledging the lack of attention being paid.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian clears his throat, slowly straightening his posture before relaxing back into his chair, “could you repeat the question?”

The man sighs, retrieving a stack of papers from his briefcase, “I need your co-operation, Mr Raines. If we are to discuss this matter further…”

“I understand,” he nods, “and I apologise for not giving you my full attention.”

“Whatever is taking up your time, is it something that I can help with? Something work related?”

“Personal,” he counters, “I can figure it out on my own.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with your assistant, would it?” Another voice chimes, his words spoken with an inquisitive tone, “That young lass with pretty eyes?"

“Yes,” Adrian grimaces at the comment, “but my relationship with her is not on the agenda for today.”

“Is she unwell?”

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“If we can return to the topic in hand-”

“Well, it is if it’s going to impact your ability to-”

“Are you questioning my authority?”

The man meets Adrian’s gaze, who regards him with an intense glare; he visibly swallows, the tension in the room now palpable.

“N-no, I…I was merely stating that-”

Adrian tilts his head, his words laden with disinterest.

“Are you married, Mr Selzar? Or in a relationship of any kind?”

“Y-yes, but- I-I don’t see why that is relevant.”

“Then why, pray tell, is my relationship a topic of discussion?”

“Well, you…your…” he gulps, almost too stunned to speak, “you are the CEO, Mr Raines. Your image impacts the company, as does your assistant’s.”

A despondent sigh escapes Adrian before he clicks his tongue, moving to re-pocket his pen.

“Can we please refrain from referring to her as my assistant? Her name is Amelia.”

“I don’t believe that we’ve ever been introduced to…” he trails off, watching in confusion as Adrian rises from his seat, “have you got somewhere else to be?”

“Yes, I do.”

The man opens his mouth, but his words betray him. Instead, it is the other man that speaks first, confusion etched on his features.

“Has this got anything to do with what has been said? Because I did not come here to discuss personal matters-”

“Neither did I,” Adrian interjects, “I believe that it would be best for us to reschedule, at least then we would all be able to focus on the topic at hand.”

“With all due respect, Mr Raines, it is neither I nor Mr Selzar that has the issue.” He nods casually, “but if your personal life is more important than-”

“Yes it is,” Adrian counters, his disbelief at the man’s condescending attitude evident in his tone, “and the fact that you’re even asking me that tells me that you do not have one. yourself.”

“I…beg your pardon?”

“I think you heard me loud and clear.”

Adrian retrieves his laptop case from beside his feet, placing it atop his chair as he gathers the rest of his belongings.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else I’d rather be…”

“But-”

“Gentlemen.”

Before the men have a chance to respond, Adrian leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. As soon as the door closes, he lets out a shaky breath, smiling proudly to himself as he makes his descent to the lobby.

Once the elevator arrives on the ground floor, Adrian takes his leave, casting a quick glance in the direction of reception before making his way towards the exit, his focus clearly elsewhere as he fumbles around for his phone. Once he has collected it from his pocket, he begins to dial Amy’s number, hoping that his efforts will prove successful.

But it isn’t.

Settling on the idea that Amy has probably fallen asleep, he endures the answer machine, listening intently for the sound of the tone.

“Hey,” he smiles softly, making a figure-8 with his keys as she swings it around his finger, “I’ve just finished for the day, so I’ll be back in around 20 minutes.” He stops abruptly as he passes an employee, bidding them farewell before returning his attention to the phone, “I’m going to stop by the store and get a few things. I thought that it would be nice to talk about things…maybe watch a movie or -”

“Adrian?”

The sound of his name makes him stop in his tracks, the familiarity of the man’s voice causing the colour to drain from Adrian’s face; he sighs, his eyes drifting closed momentarily before he regains his composure, his stoic countenance hardening across his features.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

 Adrian ends the call, tucking his phone into his blazer pocket as he turns to face the visitor, his voice firm and expressionless.

“Lucien. What a pleasant surprise,” he remains cautious, making sure that there is a sizeable distance between them, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need your help.”

“No.”

Lucien frowns, “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have to, but-”

“I said no,” Adrian reaches upwards, slowly starting to remove his tie, “we made a pact, Lucien. We agreed to never contact one another again.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then why are you here?” He places his hand atop of his hips, taking an almost confrontational stance, the bottom of his blazer hanging over his wrists, “that part of my life is done, Lucien. I’ve done everything in my power to distance myself from it.”

“I know that-”

“Then why darken my doorstep? Why go back on a promise that we both made to one another. A blood pact, no less.”

“Because I’m being followed,” he falls quiet, scratching the back of his neck, “or at least, I think I am. I don’t know who it is or what they are hoping to achieve, but…it’s getting worse.”

Adrian’s composure falters. Against his better judgment, he takes a step towards him, his brows knitting in confusion.

“In what way?”

“It was little things at first. Seeing the same face more than once in a day, shadows creeping up on me just for them to disappear as soon as I turn around, but now it…it’s non-stop. Constant eerie phone calls, notes covered in blood. I got a letter through the mail last week and it was an envelope full of photographs of me, and not ones that you’d find on someone’s social media or in a photo frame on someone’s wall. They were of me sleeping, at my desk…”

“And you didn’t sense anyone in your apartment?”

“No-one,” Lucien grimaces, tendrils of greasy blonde hair falling to cover his eyes, “no matter where I go, they don’t stop. The threats…the bodies…”

“Bodies?”

“A-at least 7 now…” he speaks with a questioning tone, as if now unsure of the true number, “and the blood…there’s so much of it all the time. It’s like this person has a fascination with torturing their victims until they can’t take any more pain.” He looks back at Adrian, who remains cautious, his face betraying nothing, “I know that you and I dabbled in the day-”

“I’m not talking about-”

“This is worse, Raines…” Lucien wipes his brow, beads of sweat now accumulating on his forehead, “and I don’t…I can’t quite understand how this is connected to me, but…and then the note about you, it-”

“What note?” Adrian interjects coldly, “what did this note say?”

“I have it with me,” he begins to fish around in his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek as he fumbles for purchase; eventually, he removes his hand, brandishing a blood-stained parchment. He opens it up with flourish, squinting as he tries to read its contents, “Tell Raines…he…is…NEXT. Then it has a couple of numbers…I’m not sure what to make of it, but-”

Adrian swiftly removes the note from his hand, scouring over its contents.

“When did you get this?”

“It was Saturday – no, last Tuesday. Saturday was the day I got the photos.”

“You mean to tell me that you’ve had this for a week?”

Lucien nods, “give or take a couple of-”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

Lucien shrugs, “I was trying not to contact you about it. I wanted to respect your wishes…plus, to be fair, it’s not like you couldn’t butcher anyone that set foot in your home with malevolent intentions anyway, so I didn’t think it – why are you pacing?”

“You’ve had this information for nine days.”

“Again, I don’t see why it matters. You’re not exactly a pushover, are you?”

“This isn’t about me, this is-” he exhales sharply, closing his eyes in disbelief as he runs a shaky hand across his forehead, “whoever this is has my address…AND the password to access the penthouse.”

“So that’s what that was,” Lucien peers over Adrian’s shoulder, pointing at a selection of bloodied words at the bottom of the page, “I thought that’s what it – where are you g – Adrian!”

The vampire follows on after Adrian, struggling to keep up as Adrian rushes briskly to his car; Adrian opens the door, hurriedly clambering inside before starting up the engine. Unsure as to how he should proceed, Lucien makes the decision to enter the vehicle, closing the passenger door with a thud. As Adrian pulls out of his parking space, Lucien takes the time to ponder.

“You never said why you were so concerned about this creep being at your place,” he looks around the interior of the vehicle, quirking his brows in approval, “is there something that you don’t want he or she to-”

“Someone,” Adrian counters without hesitation, shifting gears, “there's someone.”

“I…didn’t expect that to still be the case,” Lucien tilts his head in thought, “Cecelia, right?”

Adrian shakes his head, his focus never straying from the road before them, his jaw clenched.

“Cecelia died over a century ago. This relationship is recent.”

“How recent are we talking?” Lucien grins brightly, the light-heartedness of their newfound conversation bringing a sudden warmth to their predicament, but his happiness is short-lived, the severity in Adrian’s tone bring him back to the present.

“I hope that it will last a lifetime, but that won’t be the case if something has happened to her because of your neglectful attitude to my well-being.”

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Adrian.”

“You shouldn’t need to know anything about me,” he retorts snidely, shaking his head in disbelief, “you should have told me what was going on.”

“And risk putting a target on your back?”

“There’s already one there,” he sighs, turning right down 9th Street, “one that I now must deal with whilst keeping Amelia safe.”

“Her name is Amelia?” Adrian nods, “what does she look like?”

“You’ll probably see her soon enough, seeing as I’m guessing you will need somewhere to stay.”

“You’d have me?”

“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?” He makes yet another turn into his garage, putting the vehicle into park before removing the key from the ignition, “we must have brought this upon ourselves somehow.”

“Do you think it could be connected to what happened in Minne-”

Before he has the time to finish his thought, Adrian gets out of the car, immediately making a beeline for the stairwell; Lucien has no choice but to follow on behind, taking note of their path should they suddenly find themselves in difficulty. Before long, the pair are approaching an elevator.

“So this girlfriend of yours,” Lucien queries, leaning his weight against the metal frame as he watches Adrian press a selection of keys; the door opens, revealing a spacious compartment, adorned with polished marble. Adrian and Lucien enter, the latter failing to cease his enquiry, “does she know that you’re a vampire?”

“Yes.”

“I bet that was a hard conversation to have, huh?”

Adrian shakes his head as the elevator begins its ascent, climbing quickly towards its destination.

“Not really. Amelia was very understanding.”

“So she didn’t scream or throw anything at you? Threaten you with the word of God?”

He makes a shape of the cross with two of his fingers, leaning back in mock horror.

“Stay back or I’ll-”

“Knock it off.”

To Adrian’s surprise, Lucien quietens, clasping his hands together; he rocks back on his heels, looking up at the ceiling.

“Is she pretty?”

“Yes.”

“How pretty? Like…Persephone pretty? Medusa before the-” he presses his palms against his temples, wiggling his fingers mid-air, “…serpent hair…”

“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Is she blonde?”

“Partially.”

“Naturally?”

“Brunette.”

“Ah,” Lucien nods, “and her eyes?”

“Brown.”

“Cool,” he whistles, “so is she up there now?”

“Most likely.”

“Does she live with you? Pay rent or…board, or something.”

“Why would I charge my girlfriend to stay at my place?”

“Some couples do, you know. Twenty-first century and all that. We’re all about equality now.”

“Well that’s good to hear,” Adrian replies tiredly, the constant bombardment of questions bringing him to the peak of social exhaustion, “but no, Amelia does not pay me anything. She is welcome to stay whenever and however long she wishes.”

The elevator dings, notifying them of their arrival; Adrian breathes a sigh of relief, for the moment of interrogation seems to have ended. As the doors open, his composure falters; he enters the penthouse with a sudden sense of urgency, quickly removing his blazer and tossing it across the back of a chair.

“Amelia?” He calls out, making a beeline towards the open study door, “sweetheart?”

When he receives no answer, he peers inside the room, only to find it uninhabited.

“Ames?”

Lucien holds back, instead choosing to inspect his surroundings as Adrian busies himself elsewhere; he reaches for a small wooden box, turning it over in his hands as he looks over its intricate design, a low whistle escaping him.

“You have a nice place here, Raines!” He bellows, loud enough to be heard, “very nice little trinkets.”

Adrian ignores him, his voice taking a panicked tone as he tries yet another door.

“Amelia?!”

“She could have gone out…maybe gone to do a little bit of-” Lucien falls silent, his eyes widening with intrigue as a young woman comes into view; he watches her closely, his lips curving with contempt as she enters the living room, seemingly oblivious to his presence. She rubs the tiredness from her eyes before walking over to the kitchen, collecting a glass from the cupboard.

“Raines?”

Amy spins around, her eyes widening as she lays her sights on Lucien; she startles, the glass slipping from her grasp and shattering around her feet, leaving her unable to move in fear of causing harm to herself.

Lucien, as if sensing her terror, lifts his hands in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. He moves forward, causing her to instinctively go to shy away, her foot mere centimetres from the ground as he speaks.

“Stay very still, alright?” He continues his approach, remaining calm and composed, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Amy lowers her foot, just to stop as he speaks once more, his volume having raised in warning.

“There’s a big shard of glass to the left of your heel,” he moves around the counter, now having full view of the situation, “and the bottom of the glass is slightly to the right.”

“Wh-who are-”

 “Just a friend.”

He comes to a stop in front of her, crouching down to retrieve the shards in a cupped palm, “do you have any slippers? Any shoes that you could wear until I am sure that all the glass is gone.”

“I-I have some Uggs.”

“Great,” he beams brightly, casting a glance towards the door, “where are-”

“Amelia!”

Before either has a chance to respond, Adrian appears before them, the crease of his brow fading as he wraps his arms around her, drawing her further into his embrace.

“Feet.”

Adrian regards Lucien in befuddlement; he follows Lucien’s gaze as he looks to the floor, now aware of the glass that surrounds them. Adrian reaches up, gently caressing Amy’s face, the pad of his thumb ghosting her bottom lip.

“What happened?” He ponders, “are you hurt?”

Amy shakes her head.

“Forgive me for startling you,” Lucien collects the last of the glass, placing it swiftly in a container; he stands upright, extending a hand, “my name is Lucien. You must be Amelia, yes?”

For the first time since their meeting, Amy is able to get a proper look at their guest. For a while, she spies nothing of note…

…but then she sees the blonde undertones in his hair…

…and blue eyes, staring back at her.

Her own eyes widen in terror as flashes of crimson invade her vision, memories of the previous night’s torment etched in her mind like a broken record, unable to stop.

Amy cannot help but take a tentative step back, her weariness apparent for both men to see. Her body trembles slightly, enough for Adrian to take heed of the change in her disposition.

“Ames?” He tilts his head, “is everything okay?”

Before Amy is even able to offer up a response, Lucien chimes into the conversation, having picked up on the tension that has begun to cloud their conversation, her unease now visible to all.

“It’s probably best not to move until the floor has been vacuumed,” he speaks softly, trying to ignore the air of caution that has now befallen her, “there still might be some remnants on the ground that I have yet to spot.”

Amy remains quiet, her expression unyielding; not even the warmth of Adrian’s fingers as they graze the nape of her neck seem to rouse her from her predicament. A frown creases Adrian’s brow, concern etched in his once collected façade as he looks between the pair.

“What happened before I found you?” He leans in closer, his voice a gentle whisper, “what did he do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m asking Amelia,” Adrian claps back, his focus never leaving hers, “did something happen?”

Amy shakes her head faintly.

“Are you certain?”

“She didn’t notice that I was here,” Lucien clasps his hands behind his back, bowing his head, “I said your name and it startled her. She dropped the glass on the floor and I told her not to move before I had cleared it up. That is all.”

“Is what he said true?”

Amy doesn’t answer, at least not at first; eventually, she nods, her gaze unwavering. Adrian sighs, wrapping his arms around her shoulders before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. She closes her eyes instinctively at the contact. Lucien cannot help but watch on, a wistful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“How are you feeling? Did you manage to get to sleep?”

Amy nods.

“Was she not sleeping?”

Adrian shakes his head, burying his face into her hair as he continues to hold her close. It is only when he hears her muffled voice that the pair separate.

“Did you get any snacks?”

“I’m afraid not. Something…came up.”

“Is it anything that I can help with?” She speaks tiredly, covering her mouth in an attempt to stifle a yawn, “I’d l-like to if I could…”

“You’re helping plenty already,” Adrian replies kindly, affectionately stroking Amy’s cheek, “Lucien and I have something that we need to discuss, so we will be preoccupied this evening.”

“That’s fine,” she exhales slowly, “I can keep myself busy.”

“I’m afraid that it might take a few days to sort, so forgive me if I am not as present.”

“I can go back to my apartment if it would-”  

“No,” his response is swift yet firm, but the brightness does not leave his eyes, “would you be able to stay here? At least until Lucien and I have dealt with everything?”

“Is it something bad?”

“Well…”

“It is nothing that you need to concern yourself with,” Adrian interjects, meeting Lucien with an icy glare, a silent warning as to what should come if he was to continue, “but Lucien will be staying with us for the foreseeable future, if that is alright with you?”

“S-staying?”

“I won’t get in the way,” Lucien offers a smile, but it does not reach his eyes; he begins to rap his fingers against his thighs, “and I will return him to you at before bed. I promise.”

“Is that alright?”

She shrugs weakly, feigning a pleased smile.

“Sure. Why not?”       

“Thank you, Amelia,” Lucien holds out his hand in offering, waiting patiently for Amy to take it; to his surprise, she places her hand atop his open palm. He lifts it to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon her knuckles, “I hope that we can become firm friends one day.”

“Yeah…sure…”

Adrian places his hands on Amy's waist, lifting her up enough to re-position her feet atop of his. They start to walk in unison, the carefulness of his touch and guidance eliciting a smile from her as he leads the pair into the corridor and out of the path of shards, her bare feet completely free of cuts or scratches.

“Now if you’ll excuse Adrian and I,” Lucien follows, placing a hand on Adrian’s shoulder; Adrian grunts in disapproval, “we have an issue to attend to.”

Adrian nods, leaning in to kiss Amy’s cheek.

“Don’t wait up for me, okay? I don’t know how long I’m going to be.”

“I’m pretty tired, so I doubt it would be possible even if I tried.”

Adrian beams, his hands falling to rest on her hips, fingertips inching underneath her pyjama top as he captures her lips once more, his touch soft and laden with want.

“Sleep well, beautiful.”

He reluctantly steps away, only pausing to cast one last furtive glance in her direction before ushering Lucien into his office, closing the door behind them. 

At the turning of the lock, Amy’s knees begin to buckle underneath her; she instantly grabs onto the edge of the countertop, squeezing her eyes shut as she tries to steady her quickening breath. She waits patiently for the moment to pass, only trying to move once she has managed to regain feeling in her legs.

“It can’t be…” she whispers to herself, her pulse failing to stabilise; she shakes her head, as if trying to rid herself of fear, her words shaky and uncertain, “n-no…no…I-I won’t let him...”

The next few moments crawl by like years, and Amy soon finds that she has surpassed the worst; not wanting to draw further attention, she carefully makes her way to the bedroom, her hand dragging along behind her as she uses the wall as an additional support. After a couple of minutes, she makes it…

…but she doesn’t get into bed.

She waits in quiet contemplation, her gaze darting between all four corners of the room, as if looking for something important. It isn’t long before she finds it – a small, metal briefcase, tucked discreetly under a pile of begotten books and blankets, its handle only visible in the dim light of the moon as it seeps through the curtains, casting a silvery shimmer on the wooden skirting. She does not hesitate, using her elbow to prop up the leather-bound spines as she partially exposes the case, undoing the clasp and prying it open just enough for her hand to reach inside.              

After a minute of fumbling, she manages to find what she is looking for, her fingertips making purchase on something hard and jagged; she yanks it free from its casing and brings it into the light, making sure to replicate the initial layout of the area, ensuring that not a single detail is misplaced before moving over to her side of the bed, remaining quiet so that she may hear their footfall.

“Adrian will understand,” she whispers to herself, head bowed, “won’t he?”

A defeated sigh leaves her, followed by a wave of unease, as if her body is asking her to reconsider her decision - but she doesn’t.

Instead, she begrudgingly clambers into bed, making herself comfortable enough for sleep to come quickly.

…a wooden stake hidden deep inside her pillowcase.

[kacievvbbbb]

Hello.....If you don't mind me asking, can I ask, what are your top 7 favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series) and your top 7 favorite (fictional) characters from any media ? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this questions before......

Hello!!!

Sorry about the late response I usually use tumblr on my phone but i was having a hard time typing something so long so it’s taken me a few tries. 

Thanks for being my first ask! I would love to answer your question.

Deciding on my favorite all time characters was so much harder than I thought it would be. I think it’s because the character exists so thoroughly in their own world to me that it’s hard to stack them against each other. But I’ll do my best!

I’m going to split my answer between your two asks because I don’t want the response to be too long. Also, forgive me for I cannot spell and punctuation is my natural enemy. 

My Favorite Characters (as of right now)

Jason Todd a.k.a the Red Hood - Batman/ Red Hood Comics

This is pretty simple actually I’ve been obsessed with him since I watched Under the Redhood the animated movie and then went on to consume so much content about him. I think he is if not my most favorite character, then at least my most consistent character (I jump from hyperfixation to hyper fixation alot) So yeah he’s great. He’s very much a shining example of characters I tend to gravitate to in media. 

Kugasaki Nobara - Jujustu Kaisen

Justice for my girl Nobara. I consume quite a bit of media alot of which you could argue was originally geared towards menand so female characters are usually not the best or most fleshed out and so rarely become my favs which is why I hold the ones that do so close to my heart. Nobara is like no other female protag I’ve seen in shonen, she’s allowed to be so much she’s so mean and so forthright and she’s silly she’s a non-hypersexualized comedic relief character and that’s so hard to get with female characters that isnt just them beating up the main character who just lets them. Don’t get me wrong she’s mean to yuuji but in the way we are all mean to our best friends. Her moral philosophy is one of my favorites in the show, shes so complex and so fun and here powers are so interesting. I wish more would be done with her.

Ice Bear - We Bare Bears 

I don’t really have much to say here. Ice Bear’s just a cool dude.

Reigen Arataka - Mob Psycho 100

This is very basic of me but I love Reigen so much. I love mob to but Reigen just slightly edges him out because of his sheer insanity. The way Reigen is animated is so god he can never just do one action he’s so hyper and he’s such a bullshitter I love him. But really I feel like we never really get these kinds of  stories with “sensei” like characters. Cause in the beginning He’s presented to us as Mob’s master but it’s so obvious that he’s a con man but the thing is he still gives really good advice and in his own way he is genuinely really helping people. And he gives the single most best piece of advice to a teenage mc that I’ve ever seen. Like how often to you hear the master character tell their pupil that the right thing to do is runaway. That he shouldn't be responsible for fixing the messes of adults, he’s a child and should be allowed to be a child that all the villains are adults and it’s frankly pathetic that they are trying to fight actual children. Reigen simply is him and he grows so much in the way he treats Mob. It’s hard not to love him. Also he has no friends his own age so I feel bad for him. 

The Archangel Michael - Supernatural

There’s not much to say here. He has like 20 minutes of screen time across 15 seasons, but the ways in which I am unwell about him are limitless. He’s my poor little meow meow I will defend him to my dying day. 

Honorable mentions to those I don’t really think about often,and like more in the context of a dynamic, but when I do I go on an absolutely fanfic fuelled mania. 

Erwin Smith (AOT) - There is no canon evidence for this whatsoever but he strikes me as a man that is just a little too much like his mother (unhinged). This is solely based on a specific fic series but the ways in which I am unwell about this trope has implanted unto him. Also love his dynamic with Levi

Robb Stark (GOT)- Honestly I cried about the red wedding for 5 days straight and yeah I like reading about his dynmaic with Jon. 

Shinsou and Aizawa (MHA) -  cheating, but I like them as a dynamic and i flip flop between who I like better, especially in fics where Shinsou isn’t just a vehicle for trauma.

Mihawk and Shanks (OP) - We don’t really know alot about either, though Shanks has gotten a bit more fleshed out recently. I think if we ever find out more about Mihawk he would ascend to one of my favorite characters but right now all Ireally have are headcanons. Also I love Shanks I love seeing him on screen I find him such a fun but tragic character and i dont really know why but yeah he cares so much he’s like a slightly more weighed down luffy what’s not to love?

And finally the ogs

Zoro (OP) - I was so obsessed with him when I first started reading one piece. Love him and Luffy

Nico di angelo (PJO/HOO)  - I think mostly I’ve outgrown Percy Jackson but what kind of person would I be if I didn’t give love to the ogs.

and so here's my list of favorite characters very convoluted I know. I'll probably respond to the second half of your question tomorrow because this kind of wiped me. 😅

But thanks so much for the ask! this was fun

[colorfulcheshire]

WIP - Beel/MC Voyeurism [Rated: M]

Trying to get more comfortable posting WIPs, and while this is one that's been cleaned-up-but-not-finished, I still really want to post, considering how long I've been sitting on this one. and my horny beel brain won't stop going brrr but my adhd says it is Time To Stop Writing Today.

anywho, Beel/MC, MC can't stop staring at Beel while he works out. Will turn into a nice helping of oral and a main course later

hopefully will finish but idk enjoy in the meantime.

==

You really should feel bad for staring, or at least you keep telling yourself that despite making little to no effort to peel your eyes away from sharp outline of Beel’s pecs peeking out from the too-loose fabric of his gym tank.  His skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, small droplets running down thick, muscular arms, and all you can think about following the same path with your finger tips, and maybe also your lips and you haven’t even started your own workout yet, but gods are you feeling thirsty.

For his part, Beel seems to be entirely oblivious to the fact that he’s being ogled the way he might a fresh stack of his favorite cheeseburgers and only pauses in chugging back half his water bottle in order to wipe himself down with a cooling towel, which your eyes also take as open season to follow, if he’s going to do you the favor leading them. 

“Drink.”  Beel’s voice startles you out of your dazed staring just in time to catch a water bottle gently tossed your way, which you fumble for a moment, thankfully without spilling anything, before looking back up at him from your spot on the floor in flustered confusion.  “Your face is red,” he adds simply.  

Looking now, you can see concern evident in the knit of his eyebrows, but you don’t have the heart nor the guts to explain that he’s gotten the wrong idea, so instead, you nod a quiet thanks and uncork the lid of your water to take some rather generous gulps, glad for the cool water as well as Beel’s relieved expression when you glance at him from the corner of your eyes.  Satisfied, he chugs back a few more gulps of his own water before moving to his weight bench, and you take that as your queue to set your water aside and actually start on your stretches. 

Really, you’re hopeless.  You’ve seen the man naked more times than anyone would be bothered to count, yet you can’t stop staring long enough to get through a single gym day with him. You fold yourself over one leg, trying hard not to think about the slight burn in your calf as you catch your flexed foot, and you wonder, perhaps, if that’s where your guilt is coming from – the fact that you simply don’t want to interrupt his workout, the workout that you’re supposed to be a part of, actually, after you finish up your stretches.  You’ve been slacking, as you’re want to do in the topic of exercise, but your last text from him had been to say he missed you as his workout partner and how could you say no to that?  As much as you hate all the sweating and sore muscles (and with no orgasms to make up for it, at that), working out is Beel’s second-favorite pastime next to eating, and especially compared to his brothers, it’s not like he ever asks for much outside of his bottomless food cravings at least.

So you won’t interrupt him just because you prefer to burn calories in what you might call less-productive and less-structured methods, no matter how ridiculously sexy he is dripping with sweat.

You’re just about done with your floor stretches when a strangled grunt from Beel draws your eyes upward, first, to the straining muscles in his forearms where he’s lifting a bar with a cartoonishly-thick stack of weights on either end, then to the tension in his calves where his feet are pressed flat against the floor on either side of his bench, and then, suddenly, to your surprise, to the clear shape of Beel’s cock through the too-wide hem of blue basketball shorts.  Whatever you were doing or thinking before are gone now, replaced by the awareness of your tongue, heavy in your mouth, and how much you want to taste Beel’s dick.

“You’re hungry.”  It’s the loud clank of weights being set back into place, rather than his voice, that startles you enough to flinch out of your now half-assed stretch, and you find that Beel’s lifted himself up from the bench to stare at you …. staring at his cock through his gym shorts.

You freeze, unable to break his stare until the sudden wave of heat radiating from your shoulders up makes your eyes water and you blink away, trying now to return shaking hands to your stretching in an attempt to act casual, because what else are you supposed to do in this situation?  Even with your head ducked, however, you know your neck is burning bright red in embarrassment, and you can still feel Beel’s steady gaze on you, just making matters worse.

“Sorry,” you mumble at first, and then repeat again, more clearly.  “I’m sorry, I got distracted.  I didn’t mean to interrupt you.  I’ll be more careful.”

There’s a beat of silence during which you expect Beel’s returned to his workout, as he’s not really one for teasing or lectures, but he surprises you with a question, sounding confused himself.

“Do you not want to?”

Risking a glance upward, he still hasn’t done anything about his overly-exposing manspread or shorts, but you force your eyes up to his to find a contemplative expression awaiting your answer, and why is it always Beel doing this to you? 

“I mean–”  It’s always so hard to be as honest as he is about his desires, the Avatar of Gluttony seeming to have zero filter in that regard, but you try for him, if only because it’s fair, “–I almost always want to.”  Saying so out loud to Beel honestly feels dirtier than anything Asmo could get out of you, and you have to look away again, if only not to implode from heat.  “I just don’t want to be a nuisance.  You love working out.”

“I love filling you up even more.”  He says it so matter-of-factly, but the note of hunger in his voice drops right into the pit of your stomach and pulls your every nerve to the attention of his presence and suddenly you’re downright desperate for him and you’d hate how easily he can do this to you if you didn’t also love it so much.

He catches your eyes, and for the briefest moment, you see a flash of Belphie in the way he smirks down at you before reclining back against the bench.  For one confused moment, you think he’s going to return to his routine when, instead of reaching up towards the bar, his hands reach for the hem of his shorts as he lifts his hips from the bench, shimmying them just low to free his half erect cock to bob in the air as he drops his toned ass back down to the bench.

“Eat up.”

[griffinsboyfriend]

THEORIES FOR CHAPTER 20? JUST CAUGHT UP AND GOING INSANE

Giiiirl. I have a few crack theories but I think they’ve managed to write a good mystery here. Anything could happen, and given how wild the smut has been, and how wild the story itself has been, I’m willing to bet the final chapter will blow our asses wide open.

It’s 10 minutes long too according to the description, so we should be getting a lot. I feel like they’ve managed to stuff a lot in the short chapters throughout, it’s well paced so I think the ending should be satisfying. Btw, I’d love to hear yours and everyone else’s theories!!! But here are my crack theories:

1. Charles/Charlotte is the murderer and has been leading us on a goose chase this whole time to put our sights off of them. He’s a stalker who obsessed about MC when his aunt was alive. She was genuinely kind to Charles, inviting him over or asking for his aid with the house, it would make sense that he’d see MC in photos and developed stalkerish feelings toward him. I feel like they’ve done so many coincidences with him that it’s too convenient when the writers are trying to tell us he’s innocent. He just happened to have a TRASH BAG full of foxgloves? Sure, Jan.

Additionally, in the van, if you choose one of the dialogue options with Charles (forgot exactly what it is), he tenses up… almost becoming a different person before he resurfaces and remembers where he is. He’s had a handful of those type of interactions depending on the choices you make. Could be PTSD, but idk. It smells manipulative to me, and MC has fallen hard for his savior. Moreover, the van being unlocked? Really now? 🤨 well that was easy, wasn’t it…

That cologne too, it could be one of Charles’s cologne and he planted it in the van to frame Vince. I always thought that MC was being drugged whenever they went into their fantasies early on, but MC is quite horny so I believe its likely just THEM being them lol.

I think Charles accidentally murdered his wife by overdosing her, and his grief is unprocessed or not properly dealt with. But bc of this, his mental is likely not sane. He pushed away the grief bc he thought he needed to be there for his daughter, who pushed him away bc she hasn’t been able to properly grieve either and that’s just how kids can be.

1.5 crack theory: Yvette burned down the house bc she was worried MC would leave her father and her new co-parent, who she likely looks up to. I mean who wouldn’t, this MC is one of the greats certainly. Yvette wanting to become involved in the investigation late in the game feels pointed.

Ultimately, the dirty little secret could be our lover is the murderer and we can choose to stand by him and keep it, or not. But since this book is a stand alone, I’m doubting this I actually going to happen bc I think we’d need at least 2 more chapters to connect the dots.

2. Vince and Sadie are working together and are the killers. Vince is super dumb so he’d go along with anything Sadie said, even if she didn’t intend for real murder. I think there’s evidence in ch19 to suggest he’s dumb enough to cross the line. THEN AGAIN. The evidence only stacked up in the last chapter so I feel like… this is a red herring perhaps.

I truly don’t believe that Sadie wanted us to die or be burned alive. She’s evil but idk if she’s proven to be that evil. She’s conniving and manipulative, but I haven’t seen evidence suggesting she’d go that far. Then again she did try to hide her real identity, going so far as to get surgery. Post having sex with the mayor, she seemed obedient to him. So perhaps…

3. The Mayor is the murderer. He loved MC’s aunt but she never returned the feelings. He let his rich white man ego and pride get the better of him, he has the resources and money to make it happen without a second thought against him. I feel there’s less buildup for this though…

4. Charles and Sadie are working together to take down MC. This would be the real insane reason, and honestly I feel like I’d live if they did this! I’d have to hand it to PB if they went this route bc I feel it could be successful. They def led their audience on a wild ride, why not push them over the edge type of tease lol. There’s not enough evidence yet to suggest they’re working together but I mean this book has been fucking insane sooo…

—

I think whoever captured Yvette will force Charles to show his true colors. I can’t wait for the drama to unfold!!!

Also going into that van was the last straw. I KNEW the jig was up then. Whoever the killer is KNEW MC (and maybe Charles, if he’s not the killer) would be this stupid. It’s classic horror/thriller movie scenes.

I’m willing to bet someone is going to shut that van door and force MC/Charles to watch whatever is about to unfold. God I hope they obliterate us, man!!!!

[intrinsic-damnation]

I hope you enjoy the brief synopsis of what Remembrance will be about.

DEMO TBA

The Guardians. 

It was a name that evoked the feeling of protection in the innocent. A gentle touch across your cheek as the bitterness of the world tries to swallow you whole. It was a name that promised protection from all things that threatened to diminish your light. 

A promise that you used to believe in-- until now. 

Until you were cast aside like yesterday's trash. 

You were one of them once--a Guardian sworn to protect the innocent people of Earth-- until you were in the wrong place at a very wrong time. 

In that one moment you lost everything that ever mattered to you. Everything that you had worked for your entire life. 

Your reputation. 

Your family.

Your team. 

Thrown into a cell, with the key tossed away, you were left to rot for a crime you didn’t commit. A crime where the true perpetrators were still out there plotting. Just waiting for their time to strike. 

You didn’t know if you would ever see the light of day again. Didn’t know if you’d ever feel the gentle breeze across your face once more. That is until you were called on once more to protect the innocent people of Earth. 

Only this time you’d be working with a team of people that you helped put away. 

The clock is ticking. 

Callan Jones (AKA-- Aberration): A master thief that can get into almost anything completely undetected. A ghost in all but his physical form, Callan tends to keep to the shadows. Sharp hazel eyes watching the room for any opening he could exploit. Dark brown hair falling over his eyes in a shaggy mess that he rarely ever straightens. Age 30.

Eirene Sinclair (AKA-- Tempest): The leader of the Guardians who apprehended you as you tried to escape. Normally a woman that has a gentle smile on her face, you could never forget the look of complete heartbreak within her gaze as the cuffs were snapped on your wrists. Forest green eyes shimmering like precious gems under any light and golden brown hair falling to her shoulders in gentle waves. Age 33. 

Drake Thomas (AKA-- Exodus): He was a new recruit when you were arrested. Someone that you could tell would go far given enough time and practice. You weren’t surprised that he was one of the highest ranking officials within the Guardians now. Dark brown skin seemingly pulls in all the light of the room. Honey brown eyes glinting with various emotions as his curly black hair falls over his eyebrows. Age 28.

Natasha Solovyova (AKA-- Huntress): One of the more unhinged members of the cast. Natasha is someone that will do anything in order to complete a mission. She’s someone you do not wish to meet in a dark alley ever. Platinum blonde hair falls in loose curls to her shoulder blades-- paired with her sky blue eyes-- it gives off an air of innocence. Something that she does not have. Age 31. 

Customizable MC - choose your gender, sexuality, name, appearance, skills, and personality (there is a based personality though).

Character-driven, romance-focused story.

Can you forget your past to move on to your future?

Allow your unique experience to shape your skills.

In a world filled with superheroes and villains, figure out how you fit in. 

Fall in love with 1 of 4 love interests.

[tellerluna-stories]

hide no longer, my beloved.

PAIRING: childe x reader <33

GENRE: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending! sickfic but,,, neither childe nor mc are sick??

TW/CW: slight spoilers for childe's backstory (I use his real name a lot here)

A/N: to be 100% honest, I have no idea if the plot of this is coherent or what bc my thought process was just "brain big sad. write hurt/comfort for fave character. now sad gone." ANYWAYS HAPPY READING

Childe realises that he's the absolutely head-over-heels, no-turning-back-now kind of in love when he comes home to you.

The house is dark and still, save for a lonely lamp that still burned in the kitchen; the first thing Childe notices when he steps through the doorway is the distinct lack of toys lying in wait to trip him up or picture-books splayed out on their forlorn pages. Though it took his siblings much convincing to put their toys away at night, all evidence of children's playtime was nowhere to be seen.

"Teucer's finally asleep," a quiet voice remarks, and he finally sees a vague stirring in the darkness; there you were on the couch with the toy-chest at your feet, a stack of books beside you as if you had just been sorting them. "Don't wake him though— he's all tired out. I also put Anton and Tonia to bed."

The Harbinger sinks down next to you, relief washing over him like a tidal wave; it was rare for anyone in their family to get sick, but Teucer had been bedridden all day with a fever that burned hotter than fire. With their parents out of town and Childe busy with his duties, it was only fortunate that you had volunteered to nurse the boy back to health.

He honestly couldn't tell whether he ought to feel grateful or ashamed— as the eldest, it was Ajax's duty to take care of his siblings, yet he had to rely on you to take care of them where he could not. But at the same time he knows that he couldn't have left them in more capable hands.

(His own hands curl reflexively, reminded of all the less noble causes that had prevented him from doing his duty as an older brother.)

"How is he... how are they? Did they behave?" He asks hesitantly— if Childe's subordinates heard him now, they'd probably be surprised by how his voice trembled, the cold, careless voice of a ruthless battle-maniac exchanged for the hushed tones of an eldest son who'd spent the whole day fretting over his beloved brother.

However, all he gets is a deadpan stare in response.

"You worry too much." You snort and shake your head, continuing to tidy up anyway. "I'll have you know that I've dealt with kids and adults who were far rowdier than those three. They were all pretty well-behaved, and Anthon and Tonia didn't put up a fuss when it was time for bed."

The picture-books were properly aligned with a soft tap-tap-tap against the lid of the toy-chest, which was then pushed to rest against the wall; the books soon followed suit to their rightful place, which was in the tiny bookshelf next to the toy-chest. A thump, a soft rustle as you straightened up the couch cushions around and behind the two of you, and you continue, "Well, I suppose it did help that I promised to tell them a story."

"How about Teucer?"

"Teucer? Well..." The couch shifts as you shuffle closer to Ajax, practically wilting against him to bury your face in his shoulder. "It got kind of scary because his fever was pretty high at one point, but it went down after I gave him his medicine."

A small, weaker part of himself trembles with guilt, thinking of Teucer shivering under the covers as he waited for his dependable big brother to come home. What sort of brother was he to leave Teucer alone in such a state? What would he have ever done if he didn't have you to turn to?

"Thank you..." It's all Ajax can manage to say, though he knows words are insufficient to express how truly grateful he is to have you here like this. "Thank you."

You scoff lightly, though he can feel your smile against his shoulder all the same. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. It's— it's..." He sighs shakily; how could he explain that what was nothing for you was everything to him?

Pulling away, you give Ajax an unimpressed look. "I'm no nurse, y'know. It's just that I've seen and experienced my fair share of fevers to know my way around treating one. And besides..."

Your fingers find their place in the hem of his scarf, twisting it this way and that as you quietly say, "It's the least I could do. For the both of you, I mean."

"Sorry you have to put up with me," he mumbles quietly; in response, your hands stiffen, tightening their hold ever so slightly.

"Where'd you get that idea?"

"Oh, just..." He trails off in thought. You had for yourself a lover whose line of work whisked him to far-away places and left him with no time to spend on you, and that did not even mention the possible work-related hazards that came with the job. And then out of the blue, he had the thick-skinned audacity to ask you to look after three rambunctious kids, one of them with a raging fever— by no means did he consider looking after his siblings to be a chore, but really... any other person would've considered this situation a burden to deal with.

"I never had to put up with anything." You lean back and gaze at him solemnly, your arms folding themselves over your chest. "I knew exactly what I was getting into, and I never regretted it."

One side of your mouth quirks up in a teasing lilt, and you continue, "Besides, I already knew that you and your family are a package deal. Can't love one without loving the rest of them too."

His face flushes hot, heat rushing to his cheeks and ears— it was only too fortunate that the room was dimly lit, for you would have never let him hear the end of it.

"Oh, and Teucer said that his throat was sore, so I gave him soup for lunch and made some tea to help soothe the pain. Don't let him go out ice-fishing for a while until he's fully recovered, because the cold air by the water isn't good for him—"

Soup or porridge for meals, and regular doses of hot tea to flush out any mucus that threatened to clog up Teucer's lungs and nose— Ajax listens to your instructions with half an ear, quickly noting to ask you for the recipes later. The other half of his attention is elsewhere, wandering somewhere in the depths of your gaze.

He has you to turn to, he reminds himself; it was only you and no other that leaned against him now, sharing your warmth in a way that made his razor-sharp battle instincts soften so dangerously. What-ifs were not to be tolerated— they would only paralyse the mind and render him immobile, unable to defend the things that he cared about most.

"Then, I'll take over from here—" Ajax begins to say, but you wave him off dismissively.

"Not in that state. I can tell you've been worrying all day about Teucer."

"But..."

"No buts. Just look at yourself, won't you?" You take his face in your hands and frown in disapproval. "You've faced life-threatening dangers and fought countless battles, but the only time you look this bad is when one of your family members isn't feeling well or is upset with you."

Your hands are cool and soothing against Ajax's feverish skin, like a poultice of medicine to an angry wound— it was just like you to see right through him like this, to read between the lines of his story like one of the many books that you devoured on a daily basis.

Sometimes it almost frightened him with how easily you could see through his very soul.

With a sigh of release, Ajax leans his forehead to rest against your own. His fingers reached up to find their rightful place, which was to be intertwined with yours; the sensation of your cool, balm-like fingers in his own was the only way to anchor himself in the reality that was present, lest he slip too far away.

"He's going to be alright, Ajax." Your voice is steady and reassuring. "Teucer just needs to rest for a few days, that's all."

Silently Ajax closes his eyes, hardly daring to breathe; yes, he is in the here and now, with his heart steady and secure in your careful hands. Teucer was safe and sound, and so were Anthon and Tonia— all thanks to you.

The battlefield, the lies Tartaglia faced and made on a day-to-day basis... all of those things were far away, and his world only consisted of what was before his very eyes. His overflowing emotions swell up within his chest to form sweet nothings that roll on the tongue like honey, cloyingly sweet in the sappiness that he knows will earn him a roll of your eyes or a light punch in the arm— but oh, to tell you that you were his lighthouse in a stormy sea, his first, last, and only love.

"Rest." A soft smile graces your lips, and you give his face a reassuring squeeze. "You can go fuss over Teucer in the morning."

"What if I fall asleep?"

"Then I'll only wake you if I really have to."

He releases his grasp to petulantly extend a pinky finger, a silent — and somewhat sulky — demand for you to keep your promise; this earns him a sigh in response, yet you oblige his request anyway and interlock your pinky with his. "I'll forego the nursery rhyme because I don't want to wake the kids up for this."

His heart-beat quickens ever so slightly, and Ajax cannot help the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth— how domestic do those words sound from your lips, to hear you admonish him so. He'd fight a hundred battles if it meant hearing you say such things for the rest of your lifetimes.

Indeed, Tartaglia is certain that he does not deserve you. Childe does not deserve this peaceful life, nor does he deserve to be this happy— but if this was the hand that he was given, then who was Ajax to defy destiny?

So he allows himself to rest his head on your knee, to melt into the softer, more vulnerable version of himself that few were privileged to see. Tartaglia and Childe were strangers, distant in both name and identity— for tonight he is just Ajax, the young man who loves you more than a hero loves adventure.

Your fingers gently card through his tousled hair as a soft lullaby thrums through your bones, and all Ajax knows is peace.

[obeymeoasis]

The First Time They Say “I Love You”

Lucifer

At first you just did small things, like cleaning up the used coffee cups on his desk. Things that you wanted to do for him because he was so tired all the time. But after you pointed out a calculation error in a R.A.D organization’s monthly expense sheet, Lucifer started relying on you more. He often asked you to do a final scan over documents before he submitted them to Diavolo just in case he missed anything.

You found that your work styles were very similar: extremely organized, detail-oriented, and meticulous. You enjoyed spending time in Lucifer’s office. And helping him with his work meant that he got done more quickly and had more time to spend with you. 

Right now he was at his desk, furiously scanning through a stack of papers. You could tell he hadn’t slept in a while. The buttons at his throat were undone and he had dark smudges underneath his eyes. Somebody had apparently mixed up the schedule for an upcoming series of lectures and Lucifer was left to solve the problem.

You shut the door behind you slowly and carefully made your way over, trying your best to balance the tea tray and multiple folders you were holding. "Here, Luci. I brought you peppermint tea and shortbread. You should have some while you work, you look absolutely exhausted.” He looked up at you and smiled gratefully, a private smile that only you got to see. “Thank you MC, I appreciate it.”

You then handed him the thick folders. “Also, these are all of the invoices from last week’s alumni dinner party. I thought they were a bit messy to look at so I organized them into different categories based on the business and then sorted the purchases sequentially. Also, I calculated the total expenses and thankfully we were able to stay under budget.”

Lucifer's mouth was slightly ajar and his eyes widened, looking at you as if you'd done something incredibly strange. You asked self-consciously, "Is... is something on my face?"

With the same bewildered expression on his face he said "MC... I love you."

You laughed, a little startled. "Why, because I organized some files for you?"

"Well, yes. No. I mean yes and no. It's not just the files, it's everything. The way you're always thinking of me and taking care of me. The way we work well together. The way I can trust you with anything. I love you, MC. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say so."

You felt your cheeks flush with happiness. "Well... I love you too, you know. A lot. Now hurry up and finish your work so that we can spend some actual time together."

Lucifer laughed gently and then reached to take your hand in his, pressing a delicate kiss against your fingers. "Anything for you."

Mammon

You were at the casino with Mammon on a Wednesday night. On school nights he usually went alone because you were busy with homework. But tonight he looked so lonely as he headed for the door that something spurred you to put on a jacket and run after him.

When you took his hand in yours, he turned to look at you in surprise and the most radiant smile lit his face. “You’re coming with me, baby?”

The first couple of hours weren’t bad. Mammon brought you small plates of food and you were content to just watch as he flourished in his natural environment. You smiled amusedly at his antics, the way he bantered with the dealer, how he yelled in delight when he won and how pouty he became when he lost.

But pretty soon the long day of classes caught up to you and you could feel your eyelids growing heavy. You were tucked into a small table in the corner, away from the other guests but still visible to Mammon out of the corner of his eye. You figured no one would mind so you laid your arm on the table and rested your head in the crook of your arm. Within a couple of seconds, you were deep asleep.

Meanwhile, Mammon was having some of the best luck he’d had recently at the blackjack table. He turned to where you were sitting to give you a smile and boast about his winnings a little, only to have his heart clench tightly at the sight of you. 

You looked absolutely adorable, sleeping with a little smile on your face. It must have been a little cold for you in the casino because you were curled up tightly against yourself. Mammon flushed at how cute you looked and then felt a sudden rush of emotion. 

Even though you were tired, you still took the time to come out with him tonight. He knew these places weren’t really your thing but you never complained, you genuinely just wanted to be with him. And that was something Mammon wasn’t really used to.

You stirred at the sensation of Mammon draping his jacket across your shoulders. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you looked up to ask: “Hey Mams, how’s your luck been tonight?”

He stood silently for a moment before enveloping you into a sudden, crushing hug. “I-I love you, MC. I really love you.” You were startled and tried to move back to get a look at his face but Mammon wouldn’t budge. “No, don’t look at me. I’m probably super red. But I need to tell you how much I love you. I kinda realized it just now that there’s no one like you. No one who cares for me, who accepts all of me like you do. Thank you for always being here.”

You could feel tears forming in your eyes and buried your face against Mammon’s chest. “Oh, Mams. I love you too. I can’t imagine how alone you must have felt, especially the way your brothers treat you sometimes. But I’m here now, okay? I’ll always be on your side.”

You heard Mammon’s breath hitch a little before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

Leviathan

You came to discover that there were a lot of little holidays in the Devildom, an occasional day or two when you didn’t have to go to classes. Sometimes you took the opportunity to travel to the human world, often to pick up small necessities or bring back foods you missed.

Today you were here to pick up something specific: strawberry preserves. You had brought back a jar from the human world recently and after having a bite, Levi had practically eaten the whole jar by himself. The preserves were the specialty of a local farm close to your house and Levi absolutely loved them.

Since you were there, you decided to pick up some different jars as well. An employee carefully packaged the jars of strawberry, peach, blueberry, and cherry preserves so that they wouldn't accidentally break on the journey. What he didn't know was that you would actually be travelling between completely different worlds.

As soon as you were back in the Devildom, you quickly made your way to Levi's room with your purchases. He was in the middle of playing a game but when he heard you come in, he turned around to welcome you back. "Hey, MC. How was your trip? What are all those boxes for?"

You opened the topmost one and showed him the little glass jar with the floral pattern on the lid. "I picked more of these up for you today, along with some other flavors I thought it would be nice to try."

Upon recognizing what it was, Levi immediately set down his controller. "MC, this is awesome! I love you!" You froze in shock at his words and it took Levi a couple of seconds before he realized what he had said. He too froze so that the two of you stood there, Levi bright red, neither moving or speaking.

Levi was the one to eventually break the silence. "I-I didn't mean that! Ignore me just now! I don't know what I'm saying." Your heart sank in disappointment. You had merely been shocked that Levi felt the same way about you as you did him. But now he was saying he didn't mean it?

Your disappointment must have been evident on your face because Levi stammered out, "I-I mean, I do mean it! It's just- aargh, this isn't how I wanted to say- Ugh, I don't know what to-" You decided it was best to just be upfront with him. "Listen Levi, I love you a lot. Have for a while now. Can I ask you how you feel about me?"

If he was bright red before, Levi's face looked almost neon red now. He stared at you open mouthed, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You- You love me? Really? You aren't making fun of me or something?" You couldn't help but huff in response. "Levi, am I seriously the type of person who would make fun of you about this?"

It seemed to finally sink in for him then. "No, no you're not. MC, I- I love you too. Ah, I can't believe I said it out loud!" He clapped his hands over his mouth and you giggled at how adorably flustered he looked.

"Hey Levi, now that we know how we feel about each other, is it okay if I give you a kiss?" Levi practically fainted then, and you had to run down to the kitchens to get him a glass of water.

Satan

Satan was used to being alone. None of his brothers or classmates really shared any of his interests and he found that he much preferred being by himself. He was always too engrossed with his books and research that he never considered himself to be lonely.

That is, until he met you. You were somehow able to slowly inch yourself into his heart and without realizing it had become the most important person to him.

The other day, he found a funny quote in one of the novels he was reading and made a note of it to show you later. Then he started thinking about how much his daily routine included you in some way. You had classes together, ate meals together, talked and laughed together, and read late into the night together, enjoying each other’s company.

He realized that he was a lot happier now. Not that he was exactly unhappy before, but it was different with you. He was a lot more relaxed, more prone to smile and laugh. And a lot of it had to do with your influence and the time you spent together.

You were both reading in his room. There was a comfortable, relaxing silence and the atmosphere was especially cozy because of all the lit candles. You had prepared a tray for Satan: a plate of rosemary biscuits and a pot of black tea to wash them down with. This was another thing he appreciated about you; you were always taking care of him.

Both of you were engrossed in your books for a while, until suddenly you could feel Satan staring at you. You marked the page you were on and turned to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He looked at you for a few moments, unsmiling. You frowned, thinking there was something wrong, but before you could say anything Satan said “I just wanted to let you know that I love you dearly.”

You were surprised to say the least. Satan wasn’t really the type to talk about his feelings this explicitly. But after the initial shock, you realized how happy you were that the person you loved felt the same way about you. Satan didn’t let people into his life and into his heart that easily.

It was only when you heard Satan say “Oh love, I didn’t mean to make you cry” that you realized tears were streaming down your cheeks. You put down your book and practically flung yourself into his arms. He hugged you back tightly and waited until you were calm enough to speak. “I love you too Satan, so much. You mean the absolute world to me.”

You laughed wetly, thinking it funny that you were crying during one of the happiest moments of your life. Satan smiled at you fondly before handing you a handkerchief so that you could dry your eyes. 

You spent the rest of the night in his lap, smiling and giggling as he attempted to read you a story out loud.

Asmodeus

These kinds of days rarely happened, but they happened nonetheless. Mean, ugly days when no matter what outfit he tried on, it didn’t look right. No matter how much time he put into styling his hair, it just looked flat and dull. And his makeup seemed to refuse to cooperate with what he had in mind.

On these kinds of days Asmo locked himself in his room under the pretense of “needing self-care”. He hated having to speak with others because their usual compliments just sounded mocking and fake to his ears.

Asmo remembered an incident when one of his admirers had complimented his hairstyle and he had snapped at her furiously: “Shut up! Don’t make fun of me!” before storming away. He was incredibly embarrassed about it and apologized profusely to her. Since then, he figured it was safer to just hide out in his room.

But it was hard to be alone in his room when you were already there. You knew something was up with Asmo when you texted him saying "Hey, could you help me pick out a new coat?" and he replied with "Maybe another time, sorry darling!" He would have never refused an opportunity to go shopping with you.

So you raced to his room after classes and thankfully managed to slip in while Asmo was in the kitchen gathering some snacks. When he saw you standing in his room you could see he struggled to act nonchalant. "Darling! I didn't know you'd be here. I'm sorry, but I'm feeling a bit under the weather today. I wouldn't want you to catch anything so it'd probably be best if you went to your room."

Your heart clenched at the blatant lie. "Oh Asmo, I'll leave if you really want to be alone. But just know that I'm here for you. Whatever it is, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I want to be your strength."

You could see the conflict in Asmo's eyes as he stood quietly for a couple of minutes. You were about to turn around and leave, giving him some alone time, but he suddenly blurted out "I feel ugly today. I feel disgusting and horrible and hideous."

Asmo closed his eyes, embarrassed at his outburst and also dreading what inevitably came next: empty compliments and false flattery. He didn't want to be told he was beautiful when he didn't believe it.

But instead, you surprised him by enveloping him in a strong embrace. You alternated between gently patting his back and smoothing his hair and were rewarded with feeling the tension leave his body. You didn’t say anything, just continued to hold Asmo and wipe away the few stray tears on his cheeks.

Eventually you moved him to his bed, Asmo’s head lying on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but he seemed to be much calmer. He tilted his head up to look at you, his eyes searching your face, before almost whispering “I love you”. Your eyes widened in surprise. “You seem to always know what to do, MC, how to put me back together again. You’re honest with me and you actually listen to what I’m saying. I love you. Please stay with me forever.”

The two of you fell asleep like that, Asmo’s head on your chest and your hands intertwined. 

Beelzebub

Beel was a bit nervous, considering this was one of the most important Fangol games he had ever played in. Not only was it against their rival school, but also Beel’s coach had let him know that there would be scouters from the professional league coming to watch for potential talent.

It was too bad that you wouldn’t be able to watch him play. He considered you a very important part of his game-day routine. In the morning, you always made him a hearty breakfast and at the pre-game warmup, he frequently went to you for kisses and headpats. He considered you to be his good luck charm.

Unfortunately, you weren’t feeling well. You kept having bad stomach pain and the doctor had said it was probably your body reacting to some unfamiliar Devildom food. You were currently lying down in your room with a heating pad on and some warm green tea.

Beel missed you terribly. It had only been a few hours since he had last seen you but he couldn’t help but feel lonely. You were always there shouting and cheering for him on game days which made your absence feel that much larger.

His teammates and coaches could tell that something was off with him. They kept coming by to ruffle his hair or pat him on the shoulder and ask, “Is everything okay?” and “Don’t worry, you’ll do great!” 

Beel knew he was being silly. He would go see you right after the game! And yet his heart wasn’t in it during the pre-game stretches. He kept spacing out and staring at the wall instead of actually getting ready.

Suddenly, one of the assistant coaches came into the room. “Beel! MC is here! Now hurry up and stop moping around!” He saw you behind the coach looking a bit uncomfortable, your stomach must have still been bothering you. But you were also smiling at your little surprise.

Beel ran up to you and hugged you gently. “MC! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed? Are you okay? Are you feeling better?” You laughed at his barrage of questions before reaching up on your tip-toes to give him a pat on his head. “I’m still in a bit of pain but I wanted to be here. I couldn’t miss such an important game! Now what’s this about you moping around?”

Beel blushed and ducked his head before mumbling, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” You laughed again and Beel’s heart soared at the sound. He was suddenly struck with the realization of how much he loved you. You, who always had his back, who was always there to support him and motivate him. 

He wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, “Thanks for being here, MC. I love you so much, you know. Sometimes it feels like my heart is going to burst.” Your arms tightened around him in response. “I feel the same way Beel, I love you so much. Now go and win this game, okay? Show them how amazing you are.”

After the game, Beel was surrounded by his coaches excitedly telling him about how many scouters were interested in seeing him play again. But all Beel could think about was having you in his arms again.

Belphegor

It occurred to Belphie one day after class as he was walking down the hallway. There was a couple leaning against the locker, engaged in a full display of public affection. They kept giggling and yelling “I love you!” at each other. Belphie fake gagged a little before moving past them.

But then it occurred to him. Is that kind of thing something... you wanted? Your relationship was relatively new both in terms of time and in that this was something Belphie wasn’t really experienced with. You were one of the people that knew him best though, apart from his brothers, and Belphie had just assumed that it would be okay to continue acting as he had always had around you.

What if secretly this was something you wanted as well? All of the endearments and displays of affection. Belphie hadn’t even- hadn’t even said the “L” word to you yet. This continued to trouble him even as he lied down for his afternoon nap. In his dreams he kept seeing visions of you crying while looking on enviously at other couples and asking, “Why can’t we be like that?”

By the time he sat down at dinner, Belphie was exhausted. And you of course noticed, especially since he was eating a lot less than he normally did. After dinner the two of you made your way to his room, where you were getting out some textbooks to study and he lied back down on his bed. “Hey Belphie, is everything okay? You seem a lot more listless than usual.

Belphie stared at you, contemplating whether to tell you what was going on. But in the end he decided against it. “It’s nothing, MC. Don’t worry about it.” His voice definitely didn’t sound like it was nothing. “Okay, Belphie. But let me know if you want to talk about anything, okay? I’m always here.”

For the next hour or so, you studied for your classes while Belphie tormented himself. He did love you. But he wasn’t good at expressing his feelings, especially in the way the couple in the hall had. What if that now you were dating, you expected him to change? Would he even be able to? Frustrated at the swirling questions in his mind, Belphie ended up blurting out “I love you!” to your back.

You turned around in your chair slowly, surprised at his sudden intensity. “I... love you too. Belphie, is everything okay? You’ve been acting strange all day.” He sighed. “MC, you know what kind of demon I am. I’m not good at all the... lovey-dovey stuff that other couples do. But if that’s what you want, I can at least try to be different.”

You shook your head. “I... honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. I know how you feel about me, Belphie. I don’t need you to be like “the other couples” because I fell in love with you and who you are. I don’t expect you to be someone you’re not. Where are you even getting the idea that I want something other than what we have?”

Ah, Belphie really did love you. There was no one else in the world that knew him so completely and still loved and accepted all parts of him. And... he just realized that he had said “I love you” for the first time by practically shouting it while your back was turned.

He got up and stood next to his desk. You were sitting and looking up at him, concern evident on your face. He smiled and leaned down to kiss you gently before mouthing against your lips, “I love you, MC.”

You could feel how hot your cheeks were as he moved away and went to lie back down on his bed. You pretended to be unbothered, flipping randomly through your textbook, but none of the words made any sense. You mumbled under your breath, “”You’re pretty good at lovey-dovey stuff.”

[tofumedic]

hello hello!! may i please request headcanons for satan and mammon with a fem!mc who has a very nurturing, motherly personality? perhaps some hurt/comfort from mc to the boys, with mc letting the boys rest their head in her lap as she provides comfort after a hard day? (my apologies for how particular this request is 😅)

Satan + Mammon with a Nuturing Fem! MC

(hi dear ofc you can! i did try to use feminine pronouns more in this instead of you so hopefully it isnt too different than normal and no worries youre absolutely okay ♡!)

Satan

Nothing had seemed to be going right for him today, Satan was supposed to be a golden child out of his family, working hard and keeping prestige to not only their names but to Diavolo and the student council. And none of it compared to the fact he personally had decided the same was for MC, he was one of her pacts and to do wrong would do wrong by her and he wouldn't be responsible for such an sully on her part.

He was worth it yet with what started as a simple mistake on his test to be chewed out by Lucifer, it felt like it had restarted all his progress of fixing his relationship with the named brother. It brought out the worst in him which only angered his brother further, pushing the argument into deeper territory of spite and wrath.

Satan wasn't even a fan of being so angry, he was known for being composed and it always made him feel sick when he came back from it in a calm state to become aware of what prized possession he had broken. He was dangerous and there was nothing he could do to fix it, it was apart of him and he was apart of it, broken and escalating, termites eating away his wooden exterior that made others pleased and proud. He hadn't even seen MC yet today since classes, though it was probably for the best so she didn't get hurt, he still felt that loneliness and the longing that came with it. He couldn't help but to be selfish in that way despite the sick taste such contradictions left him with.

It's not long in his battle of temptation versus virtue that he finds himself at her door, quiet in uncommon guilt not proud of his actions.

But she cared for him, the love was always there it was not desperate or known for evaporating. MC was always caring, just in general, build into her foundation for her support to be strong and stable pillars protecting the floor from meeting the ceiling.

The concept was natural, it was as simple and maintained as her breathing, her heart beating. Just being in her room, alone with just his MC, breathing in what smelled like home and looked like solace, it was already enough.

Yet her arms were still open for him, letting him know it was okay to depend on others, that she was real and there for him with every puff of air that left her being.

She would ask him, voice quiet to be gentle on his ears, over aware of every sound outside of himself, if he was okay to move. If he wanted to sit down with her.

And so Satan ended up, his wrath long since ended and having left him winded, laying down with his head in the lap of MC. His hair being played with, smoothing out the ends and undoing knots with weaving fingers.

His hands held together close to his face resting on her legs just as well, and stubborn tears trying not to fall anymore.

Mammon

It was exhausting, not only being one of the least favorite brothers, but also being requested for meaningless small jobs for witches, always being pulled around in different directions, tugs of uncomfortable pacts always threatening to split him apart from stealing him in different directions.

And to be constantly yelled at for his sin, to give into it was uncontrollable, a thing they always told MC is that demons can't resist temptation so she should always be careful at RAD or forbid, alone.

So why did they have to get on his case about all the time? He really tries his best, he's always trying to improve himself or make up for it when he can yet that always gets invalidated the second he steps just an inch out of line.

He hadn't even talked to MC all day, her being busy with his other brothers while he had stacks of physical work that wasn't even paying like how he enjoyed modeling.

It was late then, many witches shooing him away once they had no need for him, more voices telling him that he was a nuisance and getting in the way.

Mammon felt the ringing of another pact calling for him, yet this one was more home-y, safe and almost summoning him like it was a request rather than demanding him. It was sweet, it felt like being wrapped in a bunch of blankets while it was winter outside.

It was MC's pact, and he was back to see his room. His stuff was clean, including his model cars and other collections of human world bottle caps and coins and other random treasures he had saved on walks around town.

She really did that for him? Helped clean up what he left a mess that morning before it was even remotely bright?

His exhaustion from his long day was evident in how he slugged over, his shoulders loose and aching from stiff posture, and his shoes still on his feet as he opened his arms as slowly as his step speed, wrapping MC up in them until he was only processing her and nothing else.

There was just how her clothes felt against his skin, the sound of rustles of adjusting the position, her breathing by his ear and- ah, her arms also reaching to hold him as well and even rubbing small circles into his back. She remembered how that made him feel, it was nice to be remembered in such a positive way.

And he soon started to feel lucky in addition to his tiredness.

So when she offered that he should get some rest, to lay down and relax he would take that part, and trading in the next half of her going to grab the hidden left overs of dinner with her hands lightly pressed to his cheeks as if holding together the glue of the face until he dried.

[beels-burger-babe]

Waiting in the Wings

***Happy Birthday Week Luke! This is a fluffy one. I don't get to write Simeon and Luke often, so this was interesting to sort of experiment with. I hope you guys enjoy! *** Summary: A talent show is being held at RAD; knowing the vocal talents of a certain young angel, you encourage Luke to join. Only Luke doesn't seem too fond of the idea. Together, you and Simeon do your best to give Luke the courage to shine.

The doors to Purgatory Hall slammed open as you raced inside with a blue flyer clenched in your hand. You rushed into the kitchen where you knew you would find your target. Luke, as expected, stood there is a light blue apron, whisking some kind of batter in a bowl. You excitedly waved the flyer in Luke's face. "Did you see this?! There's going to be a talent show?"

Luke squeaked at your sudden appearance and almost dropped the bowl. He took a moment to set it on the counter and grumbled something under his breath before taking the paper from your hands. You watched eagerly as his eyes scanned the page. He gasped and looked up at you in excitement. "RAD is hosting a talent show?! That's so cool! I wonder if Simeon's going to enter? He could probably read a poem he wrote, or act out one of his monologues," a tender look of admiration spilled into Luke's expression as he looked at the flyer. He shook his head and looked over at you. "What about you MC? Are you entering?" You chuckled and shook your head. "No. It's not really my thing. But I know someone with an incredible voice that would blow the rest of the competition out of the water!"

You thought that your words made it quite obvious that you were talking about Luke. You had first heard him sing months ago when Asmodeus dragged you to a tea party that he had been invited to by Simeon and Luke had performed for the three of you and Barbatos. His voice was truly the work of angels and was unlike anything you had ever heard before. It was remarkable to think that such a large talent could fit inside his small body.

Evidently, you weren't obvious enough.

Luke's eyes got even wider and he bounced slightly in excitement. "That's amazing! Who is it? You should definitely get them to enter! I'd love to hear them sing. Maybe they could teach me a couple of things." You smirked at his obliviousness and light-heartedly pushed the young angel. "Well, it'll be sort of hard for you to teach yourself what you already know."

Luke blinked at you several times, and you could practically see the math equations floating around his head. As he had his light bulb moment, his face paled and Luke quickly shook his head. "No! Absolutely not! I am not doing it!" "What aren't you doing?" The two of you whipped around to see Simeon watching the two of you in amusement. Your heart fluttered at the mere sight of him.

This, unfortunately, wasn't new. Although your feelings for Simeon weren't something that was apparent right away, they had grown more and more as you spent more time together. There was no denying the angel was handsome, however, there was so much more to him than that. He was intelligent and creative, able to outwit even some of the brothers with ease. He was incredibly compassionate and open-minded about the creatures in the Devildom. In one word, Simeon was bright. He radiated joy and peace where ever he went. You didn't know if it was an effect of being an angel or if it was who he truly was, but regardless, it was slowly but surely winning over your heart. You smiled at him and handed him the flyer. "I was telling Luke how I think that he should sing in the upcoming talent show." Simeon grinned widely at his charge, "Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! You have an incredible vo-"

"NO!" You both looked at Luke in shock. He didn't lash out often unless it was at one of the brothers. He most certainly never raised his voice at Simeon. Yet here he stood with his eyes screwed shut and hands balled into fists as they shook; whether they shook with anger or something else, you weren't sure. He scowled at both of you. "I'm not going to sing for a bunch of filthy demons on a stage in f-front of hundreds of students! Are you insane?" Simeon and you exchanged glances of concern. Simeon moved closer to his charge and placed a hand on his shoulder; like a parent trying to soothe their child. "Luke, if you really don't want to do it, that's okay. No one will force you. But I have to ask...Is the reason you don't want to perform because you have stage fright?" Luke blushed and looked away. "N-No! I don't have stage fright! I-I just don't want to waste my celestial talents on these demonic scum!"

He was clearly lying. Yes, he was upset, but behind that anger, you could see a small trace of sadness; as though his mind, which filled him with fear of the audience's judgement, and his heart, which yearned to sing for all to hear, were at war.

If the angel you had come to know as a brother wanted to perform, that god damn it, you were going to make sure he would be able to perform! "Well, what if I was there with you?" You asked in genuine curiosity. His head snapped up to look at you. "B-But you said it's not your thing?" You tried not to smile at his concern for you, and instead casually shrugged it off. "I could stand in the wings and be right there cheering you on. I could also help you practice and get ready; that way you feel more confident about it." Simeon nodded and patted Luke's hat. "You wouldn't be doing this alone. MC and I would be right by your side if this is something that interests you. I'm sure Barbatos would love to see you perform. MC and I would certainly enjoy it." Luke shifted from foot to foot as he thought about it. The room held its breath as you waited for his decision to be revealed. He glanced over at you nervously. "You'll be right there?" Your chest warmed as you were momentarily reminded of just how young Luke really is. You gently squeezed his shoulder and nodded. "I won't leave you for even a second." Luke let out a big breath before a gleam of determination filled his eyes and he balled his fists. "Okay! I'll do it! I'll sing at the show!" You smiled brightly in silent victory as Simeon laughed and hugged Luke. "Wonderful! Looks like the two of us have our work cut for us! When would you like to begin preparing?" "Now!" Luke took off out of the room, "I know the perfect song! I have the sheet music in my room! I'll be right back!" Simeon chuckled as Luke vanished from sight in a white and blue blur and looked over at you. There was a shimmer of fondness and affection in his eyes that caused your breath to catch in your throat.

"Thank you for talking him into this. He truly does enjoy singing, and I think he would've regretted it if he didn't join. He's very fond of you," Simeon's voice was as soft as the clouds that he had descended from. You scratched the back of your neck and awkwardly tried to brush off his thanks. "It's nothing. Luke means a lot to me too. He's like a little brother, you know?" If possible, his expression became even more tender as he looked deep into your eyes and gave you the most gentle smile. "Yes. I suppose I do."

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, before you noticed Simeon shift a little. You wouldn't quite say it was an action of discomfort but there was clearly something on his mind.

"Penny for your thoughts?" You asked with a reassuring smile.

Simeon, much to your surprise, blushed. "I was just thinking. I suppose with you aiding us, you'll be spending more time here at Purgatory Hall, will you not?"

You blinked a couple of times at the question. You supposed it was true. Within the next two weeks leading up to the talent show, you would probably be spending the majority of your time here with Luke, and as a result, with Simeon as well. You nodded in response to the question as you felt your own cheeks grow warm.

Simeon's twinkled as his expression lit up. "It will be lovely getting to spend more time with you. You-"

Before Simeon could say much more, Luke burst back into the room waving a stack of papers.

"S-So this is what I'm thinking. I have options, but I don't know which ones to choose!" He paused as he picked up on the obvious energy change in the room and frowned. "What's going on in here?" Simeon chuckled and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Nothing at all. Now, you mentioned you had options?" Luke took the bait easily and began excitedly explaining each of his song selections. Throughout the next two weeks, you and Simeon worked together to help get Luke in tiptop shape to perform. You ran vocal scales with him as Simeon played the notes on the piano. You helped him memorize the lyrics, while Simeon aided him in getting the melody and key right. Using your influence with Diavolo and the brothers, you were even able to get him into the theatre that the show would be hosted at, and gave him the opportunity to practice on stage while in advance. During this time you found yourself growing closer and closer with Simeon. The two of you would exchange secret smiles with one another when you thought Luke wasn't looking. You found yourself more aware of his presence and his notable attention towards you. You would glance over at him, only to find he was already looking at you. Simeon would frequently put his hand on your shoulder or ruffle your hair. The actions always left you flustered, which simply made him smile even more.

Luke wasn't oblivious to the budding romance between the two of you. He noticed all too easily what was happening and instantly approved. After all, it was much better that you be courted by a gentleman such as Simeon than one of those fiendish brothers.

So he decided to do his part in aiding the matter. He often made up excuses in the middle of practice that would leave the two of you alone in a room. He always made sure you two sat down beside each other. Luke would come up with clever little things that "Simeon needed to do," just after practice ended and would always turn to you immediately after insisting that you help.

If either you or Simeon noticed what he was doing, neither of you mentioned it.

The two of you may have started this as a mission to help Luke feel comfortable on stage, but Luke quickly turned it into a mission to get his two favourite people together.

Time flew by, and before anyone could blink, the day of the show had finally arrived.

The theatre was elegantly decorated with red and gold streamers hanging on the balconies and bouquets of roses lining the aisles.

Backstage, dozens of performers anxiously fretted about, running over their talents one last time before their big moment in the spotlight. Simeon had performed a romantic monologue earlier in the evening. As he spoke, you couldn't help bet notice that his gaze would continuously fall onto you; something that made Luke beam with joy. Since then another handful of performers had gone up, Luke was next. The angel stood between you and Simeon in the wings, as he nervously twisted his hat in his hands. "I-I-I can't do this. I change my mind. I'm not gonna do it," he tried to turn and flee, but you quickly caught him.

"Woah, woah, woah. Easy there, Luke. You worked so hard on this. You can't just back out now!" Your heart broke as you felt just how badly the poor boy was shaking. You knelt down in front of him and placed your hands on his shoulders as you looked deeply into his eyes. "Luke, it's going to be okay. You've practiced day and night for this. You're going to blow the socks off of everyone out there. Simeon and I will be right here with you the entire performance."

Luke sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "Promise? You'll be here when I finish?" Simeon came up behind you and placed a hand on your back as he knelt down beside you. "We aren't going anywhere."

Luke smiled faintly at the sight of the two of you so close and nodded. "O-Okay. I suppose I can do it then."

You pulled Luke into a hug and held him tightly. "You've got this Luke. Go show them all what the Celestial realm is really made of!"

Luke hugged you back as his name was called out by the emcee. With a nervous smile, he put his hat back on and walked out onto the stage. You held your breath as he approached the mic. What if something went wrong? What if the mic didn't work? What if the audience was mean? A hand wrapped around your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked over to see Simeon holding onto your hand. He grinned at you and brought your hand to his lips, delicately kissing your skin. "Have faith, MC. Everything is going to be fine." You weren't sure if it was the heat from the spotlights or the number of people in the room, but you felt like you were going to melt. You nodded and squeezed his hand in return as the music began. Just as expected, Luke was absolutely incredible. He sang with all the glory of the heavens. As his voice filled the theatre, you could've sworn that the lights shone just a little bit brighter. There wasn't a dry eye in sight; no one could deny the beauty in his talent.

Once he took his final bows, he practically sprinted back to the two of you where he was immediately scooped up into the arms of a proud Simeon. "That was incredible Luke! Truly a remarkable performance!"

Luke laughed and hugged his mentor back. "You guys were right! After I started singing, it wasn't scary at all! Thank you so much for helping me do this." You fondly ruffled Luke's hair and beamed at him. "All we did was give you the confidence to go out there. You did everything else yourself."

Luke's chest puffed out in some well-earned pride as he soaked in the praise from the two of you.

Simeon finally let him go and smiled down at him. "Now, what do you say we go celebrate? I have reservations for the three of us at Restaurante Six."

Luke's eyes widened, and you could practically see the scheming thoughts cycle through his brain. The young angel let out a dramatic yawn as he stretched. "You know performing really tired me out. I think I'll head home with Solomon. It'd be a shame for that reservation to go to waste though; you two should go together."

You blinked at Luke in shock, as a knowing smirk climbed onto Simeon's face. He turned to you with coy, yet loving, eyes and held out his hand. "Well, what do you say, MC? Care to accompany me to dinner this evening?"

You gaped at him for a second, as Luke watched the interaction in excitement. You stumbled upon your words for a second before finally getting them out. "I-I, um, yes! Yes. I would l-love that."

"YES!" The two of you quickly looked over at Luke as he jumped around in celebration. Seeing that he was caught, he froze before chuckling nervously and scratching the back of his neck. "I-I mean, bummer that I got join you two. Have a good night!" Just like that, Luke took off to go find Solomon.

You sighed and shook your head. "He's a trouble maker."

Simeon laughed and took your hand into his and he pulled you close to him. "Perhaps, but if the result of his mischief allows me to spend more time with you, then I, for one, am grateful," he kissed the top of your hands once more and offered out his arm to you. "Shall we?"

Your heart fluttered as you took his arm and allowed him to escort you out of the theatre and into what promised to be a memorable evening.

***This was a process for sure, but I think I'm happy with how it turned out! Thank you everyone for reading and supporting me and HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SON, LUKE!!!!***

Taglist: @thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @pebblesgengar @victoireshaven @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @obeys-world @poly-bi-mf @armycandy10 @burrixino

[luna-the-moth]

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)

I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.       

Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-

My vampire poll for the OM characters

My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better.  Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)

Prologue/basics for all of them:

Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.

Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.

So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!

While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.

Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.

Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.

In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.

With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.

On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.

You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.

Lucifer:

Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.

In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.

Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.

It was a nice change, he thought.

However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.

Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.

It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.

Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.

The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.

Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.

The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.

Roses were her favorite flower.

As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.

He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.

The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.

He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.

Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.

The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.

Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.

“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”

Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.

“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”

Leviathan:

Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.

It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)

He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.

What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.

Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.

In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.

From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.

The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.

The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.

So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.

At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.

You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.

You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.

So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!

You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.

Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.

It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.

You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.

By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.

Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.

You created and did this, for him?

Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.

He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.

Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.

He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.

As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.

“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”

Satan:

He fully supported your botanical excursion

After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.

Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.

If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.

So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.

He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.

Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.

And so you began to research.

Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.

You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.

Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.

After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.

After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.

When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.

Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.

The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.

Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.

In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.

Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.

After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.

He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.

That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.

When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.

However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...

Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.

Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.

“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”

[neo-shitty]

obliviate — h.js

prompt. #19 — when they let the enemy go from ficscafe’s scenario event 

description. in which you found yourself alone with han jisung again; still fighting the same battle, but this time on two different sides. 

pairings. gryffindor!han jisung x slytherin!gender-neutral reader 

genre. hogwarts!au, angst, a pinch of fluff, LOVERS TO ENEMIES >:)

warnings. betrayal, mc doesn’t have a happy childhood (not written in detail but hinted), mentions of dead parents, mentions of death and killing.

word count. 2.8k

notes. events here occur within the timelines of order of the phoenix and half blood prince. i also altered canon a bit to make this fic possible. 

The hall leading up to the Room of Requirement was dead quiet, just the way anyone would expect it to be in the dead of the night. The moon’s rays beamed through the enormous windows, illuminating the floor you walked on. A gust of wind swept through the hall, sending shivers down your spine as it touched your exposed skin. It made you unsure if your quivers were from the sudden drop of temperature, or the shrill nervousness as you headed to your destination.

You were still halfway down the empty corridor when the arched door began to show itself on the once-barren stone wall. The wooden door further revealed itself with every step you took closer. And by the time you were right in front of it, it had grown back to its full size—like the door had always been there.

There was a moment of hesitance before you pushed the door open. The rough wood felt familiar beneath your touch, taking you back to the last time you stood before it—over a year ago, when things had been so different.

Even with Dumbledore gone and the pink abomination that was Dolores Umbridge in his place, Hogwarts’s halls still had the traces of warmth and coziness that it once had. Boisterous laughter of those who made a hobby out of bending Umbridge’s rules would still echo down the hallways. All efforts made to make the pranks possible always became worth it at the sight of her pink fuming face. At the time, it had been so relieving to see all four houses unite against one single common enemy. 

The tides turned when news of the Dark Lord’s return started circulating around again—this time with more concrete evidence when he appeared at the heart of the Ministry of Magic along with a few of his loyal followers. 

Now, the halls of Hogwarts were cold, dull, and quiet. Even in the day, you observed that the number of students hanging around at the hallways gradually lessened as the year progressed. The only ones left were tight-knit established bunches, but even they didn’t appear as joyful as they used to. The inter-house interactions that you’ve gotten used to in the past year barely happened outside the walls of the classrooms.

You snapped yourself out of your own reverie. You were getting too lost in your thoughts, too distracted, too soft. If you dwelled on it any longer, the task you had on hand would only become more and more unbearable. 

The door budged easily when you pushed it open. You half-expected to see the same familiar room you used before. But the hall before you was far larger than the training room. If anything, it carried little to no resemblance at all. The warm fireplace was nowhere to be seen; neither the mirrors on the walls nor the two enormous knight statues. The ceiling was so far up all you could see was a blanket of darkness overhead. Beyond you, the hall appeared never-ending—stretching out endlessly in the other directions that you couldn’t quite see where the other three walls were. 

It wasn’t your first time visiting the Room of Hidden Things—it might’ve been your third in that week alone—but you still haven’t gotten used to seeing it instead of the training room. You were immediately greeted by stacks upon stacks of various objects that seemed both scattered yet arranged. The piles were tall, but you could still see its peaks if you tilted your neck. You cautiously walked down the path that mazed through the room, careful not to accidentally nudge anything as you did the nights before. 

The object you sought sat right where you left it, obscured from plain sight beneath a veil of black and blue. You tugged the sheet off with ease.

The first thing you noticed was the unlocked notch of the cabinet—a sign that someone had opened it between the last time you used it and now. You felt yourself go cold, the feeling of paranoia that you’ve been found out comes back and this time, it stays in the form of panic and doubt. Your breaths came quicker, oxygen entering your system in abnormal intervals that made your head feel light. Your mind was clouded in thoughts—when, where, how? 

Either way, it was too late now—both for you to back out and for them to evade the impending doom looming over them.

“Is that the reason why you started getting distant in the past year, _____?”

You see your hand visibly shake upon hearing the familiar voice that echoed the room. You had your wand at the ready, pointing it at the black wooden doors of the Vanishing Cabinet in front of you. The words you needed to utter to activate it were at the tip of your tongue, but they died down in the presence of the other person in the room. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. At least, not while he was around.

You didn’t have to turn to recognize who the question came from. His voice was something you would recognize anywhere. Having heard it so much in the year prior, it was almost impossible not to. 

His footsteps drew closer, thumping on the marble floor and echoing all around you. You tried your best to remain calm, even when your heart was threatening to leap out of your ribcage. He stepped out of the shadows before stopping a few crates away from you. His face was illuminated by the light at the tip of his wand.

“You have no business here, Han Jisung.”

There was a tinge of coldness in both your voices that would lead anyone into thinking you’ve both been sworn enemies right from the start. But you recalled how his was once warm as it uttered witty jokes at the back of the class, as it whispered sweet nothings in your ear that slowly chipped away at every wall you raised around you.

You remembered being the only Slytherin around—getting mixed glances of both disgust and fear whenever you moved around the Room of Requirement. Jisung had been the only one who approached you and took you under his wing throughout the days you spent training in Dumbledore’s Army. Though you’ve already mastered half of the spells they were teaching around, you had trouble with one in particular. 

“The Patronus charm is easy,” Jisung once said. 

It wasn’t to you, at least. That fact alone said a lot about your childhood.

He pointed the wand he held at the marble floor in front of you before chanting the spell—Expecto Patronum. Bluish rays of light shot out of the wand’s tip, dancing in the air around the both of you until it began to take shape. A furry thing, nothing more than two feet, began to prance around in the direction Jisung pointed his wand. The little thing circled around you, stopping in front of you with its cheerful face before it finally disappeared. 

Your face might’ve given away your amusement because Jisung was smirking when you looked back at him. “Your Patronus is a wombat?” you asked.

“Quokka, actually,” he corrected, and so began the hours of endless training just to get you to produce a Patronus. 

You gave up on it eventually, settling with the thought that you’d never be able to produce one until you had a happy memory to keep in mind. Jisung took it upon himself to help you with that. 

And so began the ploy to purposely piss off Dolores Umbridge on a day to day basis, because seeing her pissed off had always been so amusing to you and to everyone else whose days were ruined by her mere presence. Jisung never gave her, nor the other mischievous folks of the other houses, a break. He was a nuisance at best; giving the Gryffindor prefects daily headaches and costing the entire House 10 points every time he got caught.

Somewhere along the way, his charm got to you in ways you didn’t expect. You were in a constant state of denial for the longest time; convincing yourself that what you smelled was nothing but soap when you caught the familiar scent of Jisung’s cologne when you brewed Amortentia in class. You denied it every time you would feel your heart leap to your throat whenever he got too close. Denied it until the day he stole a kiss under your nose before he bid you farewell the day before Christmas break. 

The moment left you dumbstruck; glued to the same spot on the floor and blinking at the space before you, even long after Jisung walked away. But you don’t let him out the doors of the Room of Requirement, muttering a spell under your breath that kept the wooden doors locked until you released them yourself. 

He finally turned to you when he realized he couldn’t pull them open, not even bothering to undo the spell with an Alohomora as he knew you were a much stronger wizard than he was. He was met by a glare and a pointed wand.

“Go on, hex me,” he taunted playfully, but the quiver in his tone told you he wasn’t too confident in his words.

You didn’t. 

Instead, you took the flurry of emotions rushing within you from the moment before—and maybe from all the other moments prior—and channeled them into the wand you held before you. And you casted your first successful Patronus that night, a tall stallion that headed straight to Jisung before you dismissed it with a flick of your wrist. You could still remember how brightly he smiled at you afterwards.

Things have changed so drastically that you couldn’t believe it had only been a year ago since then. But some things remained the same; like the location of the room you both stood in—7th floor, west wing of Hogwarts Castle, and your fate—seemingly intertwined with the rest of your family no matter how hard you tried to escape it. Being born into a family with a history of meddling with the Dark Arts, it almost seemed like you were destined to be on evil’s side in the Second Wizarding War. The throbbing mark on your arm made sure you remembered it clearly.

You kept your eyes focused on the cabinet. As the clock ticked with every second that passed, you envisioned the people at the other end preparing outside the Vanishing Cabinet’s twin back at Knockturn Alley—awaiting your signal. With one spell, the Death Eaters on the other end would be able to enter Hogwarts and carry out their plans to spread chaos and destruction. To kill the Headmaster as they had long planned.

You didn’t know if dragging the deed helped any side at this point. But you couldn’t chant the spell while Jisung was still around. He’d be dead the second they burst through the cabinet’s doors and discovered him there.

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” 

You whipped your hand, sending a burst of magic straight at Jisung’s direction. He was quicker than he used to, avoiding your attack at the last second before immediately conjuring a counter spell to disarm you. You were quick to deflect it, sending a few things toppling at another aisle. 

Jisung took cover behind a row of stacked objects, missing yet another hex from you. “How could you betray all of us like this?”

“It wasn’t my choice to make!” you answered, illuminating the dark room with a single ray of light to spot where Jisung hid.

You caught sight of his silhouette dashing across the next aisle and you cast another spell in his direction. With heightened senses, he evaded it easily again. Jisung turned to you, attempting another disarming spell. He misses—barely—hitting the pile beside you and sending it falling into the aisle where you stood. You moved out of the way just in time. 

“You can choose not to let them in and you can choose not to do this,” Jisung shouted back, keeping his own wand up but not casting a spell—a weakness in his fighting that you always noticed. He always allowed a moment of vulnerability. A mistake like this on the battlefield would be fatal.

Yet you decided not to use it against him.

You lowered your own wand, allowing him to round back to the same aisle you stood on. “They’ll kill me if I don’t,” you said. The thought alone made you quiver, and you were once again reminded of your task. You glanced back at the Vanishing Cabinet behind you. You only needed a moment to utter the chant that allowed the Death Eaters passage and you’d be over and done with your heavy task. The rest was up to them and you could pretend that you hadn’t done anything to contribute to the madness. 

But you knew Jisung wouldn’t be able to leave the Room of Requirement alive. Stubborn as he was, he’d stand his ground even if it meant certain death.

“Family won’t kill family,” he reasoned out and it almost made you burst out in laughter.

“Like you would know how family dynamics worked when both your parents are dead?”

Jisung visibly flinched, stilling as he was once again reminded of the cruel truth. He was more dumbfounded when he heard those words from you—especially you. But your expression remained stone cold, hiding every bit of remorse just to make sure it was enough to shake him off for good. You told yourself it was for his own good but you were sure that the hurt in his eyes wasn’t something you would easily forget.

The shift in Jisung’s voice told you that your words struck a nerve. “Even if my parents were alive, at least they wouldn’t kill me for choosing not to do something,” he answered, but it was obvious who already won the argument.

“But they aren’t, right?” You wanted to bite your own tongue. It’s for his own good. “Just get out. Warn Dumbledore, warn everyone, whatever. It’s the least you could do.”

Finally, he took tentative steps backwards—away from you and in the direction of the exit. “I don’t want to face you on the battlefield,” he muttered.

You and I both, you wanted to reply. But giving him a sliver of hope that you had a bit of your humanity left behind would only make it harder for him to leave—at least without taking him with you. “You don’t have a choice now, do you?”

He made it to the wall where the exit was but he didn’t make the move to open the door just yet. “Do me one thing before I go.” The least you could do was hear him out, so you did. “Erase yourself from my head. Make it seem like you were just another Slytherin who betrayed the school for the Dark Lord.” 

You locked your jaw, teeth gritting against one another. His request was a lot to process—both making you sad and furious at the same time. You feel the familiar sting of tears beginning to form. Had the room been properly illuminated, Jisung would’ve clearly seen how teary-eyed you were getting.

“Han.”

The word felt foreign in your lips and you realized that you never called him by his last name alone until tonight. Calling him by a nickname didn’t feel all the more comfortable either. 

“What? It’s the truth,” he replied. The coldness in his voice remained now and it was enough indication that he was down to his last straw with you. 

He was right, though. It was the truth. You were just another one of the many other pureblood Slytherins tasked by their families to do unforgivable deeds for the Dark Lord, even when they refused to. Either their own lives or their entire clan’s were put on the line—all in the mercy of head Death Eaters that tried to keep every family in check and on their side. 

It was something you wished Jisung understood. But arguing with him now felt like pushing a brick stone wall.

He only got snarkier when you didn’t reply. “You can’t be selfish now,” he said, leaning against the far wall of the Room of Requirement before he continued, “Go on, hex me.” 

A flash of déjà vu crossed your mind. The same place and the same taunt, only at a different time and a different state of mind. This time, you obliged.

You allowed yourself a moment of weakness, letting a tear fall down the side of your cheek as you muttered an apology. He wouldn’t remember it anyway. Jisung’s face softened for a fleeting moment when he saw you wipe a tear with the back of your hand—maybe out of concern or maybe out of confusion. 

But before he could say or do anything you had already flicked your wrist, casting the Memory Charm designated to make him forget you. 

“Obliviate.”

© neo-shitty, 2021

[ibelongtowrath]

Imagine Satan is feeling needy but MC isn’t there. And in his room he starts rubbing himself and soon is jerking off thinking about them. Their touch, their warmth their sounds.

♡. Drabble time! Thank you for the inspiration, dear nonny!

♡. Tags/warnings: 18+/NSFW GN!reader, masturbation, daddy kink, thoughts of sex, lots of cum.

♡. NSFW below the cut!

Satan lies supine on his bed, a book cradled between his hands. Words appear before him, meticulously written, a tome he’s read hundreds of times before - one of his favorites. The crisp sound of pages turning, coupled with the gentle crackling of lit candles, cuts through the silence of his messy but organized bedroom, books stacked nearly floor-to-ceiling. This is a silence that is not the tranquil kind, however, but a nearly unbearable kind; because it is a silence that is not being shared with you.

Fuck.

His eyes drift from the book before him to the empty space next to him on his bed. It had been nearly a week since he had been able to taste your skin last. He craves you. Stolen kisses in the hallways of R.A.D. in between classes, quick pecks on the cheek before and after meals, exchanging of D.D.D. messages and typed-out “I love you”’s aren’t nearly enough to satiate his need. You were being whisked away to meetings, weighed down with the hefty workload of assignments, endless exams. 

Satan offered to let you stay in his room, to help you with your tasks, but you had politely declined, insisting it would be too much of a distraction. His lips turned up into a knowing smirk, understanding the implication, proud that he is able to affect you in such a way; but part of him was sorely disappointed, nodding with understanding, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before you turned around and headed back to your room. You paused, turning back to wink at him before those soft, pretty lips parted to speak.

“Don’t worry, it will only be for about a week. I’ll more than make it up to you after, Daddy.”

As he recalls your words, Satan feels his cock twitch beneath his pajama pants. His head falls back to rest against the pillow - the book, still open, lay against his chest. He finds his hand slowly reaching to the front of the fleecy bottoms, gliding his fingers over the slight bulge. Rubbing back and forth, softly, gently, touch just a bit heavier than featherlight, he bites his lip, his eyelids fluttering.

“Ah- fuck- harder, Daddy, don’t stop...”

The memory of those sweet, sweet words that fall from your lips - they’re delicious. Satan’s cock twitches again, growing harder as he continues to fondle himself through his pants. His breath hitches before exhaling slowly, hooking his thumbs beneath the stretchy waistband, pulling them down until his cock springs free. Thoughts running at the fastest speed imaginable, he nibbles his bottom lip.

He circles a thumb around the head of his cock, now rock-hard at its full length, and resting against his abdomen; the clear fluid of his obvious arousal weeps from the tip, dripping, pooling onto his stomach as his chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly, breaths turning ragged.

Satan moves his hand down, wrapping his fingers around his stiff, swollen length. His head rocks back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut, lost in thoughts of you. Thoughts of your feverish skin against his, the way you look up at him as you writhe underneath him, eyes half-lidded and blown out with lust. He begins to stroke himself, slowly and methodically. 

A moan escapes him as he thinks of your own, the way you gasp with every thrust as he gripped your hips and lifted them, wrapping your legs around himself, slamming into the deepest parts of you. Your legs shaking, squeezing harder as you thread your fingers into his hair, moaning his name into his ear.

He groans, pumping his hand faster, letting his thoughts run amok with you. Satan arches his back, the book all but forgotten as it lies on his chest - his mind so clouded over with pleasure, properly putting it away is the last thing he wants to think about. 

Small beads of sweat appear on his forehead, and he groans, desperately wishing it was your hand getting him off instead of his own gripping his aching, needy cock. A pinging chime sounds from his D.D.D. on the nightstand, indicating a received text, but he ignores it, lost in ecstasy.

The feeling of your tight, warm walls gripping him as he enters you, pulling back, dragging his cock between your walls before pounding back into you. Stretching you out with his sheer size, quivering around his cock as your arousal wets him. Satan increases the pace of his hand in tandem with the memory of his quickened, merciless thrusts into your pliant little body writhing beneath him, calling out his name; the two short syllables stretching into loud, gasping moans that rise in pitch with each effort, bordering on a scream of pleasure.

“Ah! It f-feels so good, I’m going to cum, Daddy-”

Fuck! Satan clenches his jaw, stroking faster and faster, desperately chasing his release. Gripping the sheets beneath him with his free hand, he bucks his hips into his own hand, pressing his skull hard into the pillow as his cock twitches. Fuck, I’m so close... 

It’s the mental image of your eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you cum, gripping him tightly as you scream his name into the late hours of the morning, fucking into you throughout your release that finally pushes Satan over the edge. Mere moments later, the tension between his hips snaps, fire pooling low in his belly and blazing to life as his orgasm shudders through him. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he lets out a series of loud moans, sounds of pleasure shattering the thick silence of his empty bedroom. Thick, white ropes of cum pulse from his cock, coating his hand and subsequently landing on the book that lay on his chest, coating the cover with evidence of his desperation. Chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort of his labored breathing, Satan groans, letting his head drop back against the pillow as he wipes his brow with the back of his free hand.

Silence returns to his room, though only for a few fleeting moments - the sound of his bedroom door unlocking fills that void,  almost amplified by the previous stillness. Satan’s heart thrums wildly in his chest, watching with widened eyes as you stride through the door before turning around to close it behind you, setting your book bag on the nearest chair.

“I texted you, but you didn’t answer,” you tell him, reaching to grab your D.D.D. from your bag before turning around. “I need a break, so I thought-”

Your words cut off suddenly as you finally turn around. The sight of Satan on his bed, a hand wrapped tightly around his cock, coated in cum as he pants, his eyes glazed over in pleasure. You can feel yourself grin, sauntering up to him, keeping your eyes trained on his as your hands make quick work of unbuttoning your uniform jacket, dropping it to the floor.

Satan’s heart thrums wildly in his chest, like the rev of a racecar gas pedal pressed to the floor. He licks his lips, delighting in the sight of you, moving the cum-soaked book to the nightstand, not caring at all for the damage.

“Kitten,” he rasps, continuing to pant. “I-”

“Missed me that much, hm?” you purr, leaning over him to brush your lips against his. “I did say I’d make it up to you, Daddy, didn’t I? I suppose I’ll have to clean you up first...”

[mansions-maiden]

Hello! I am so happy your requests are open! Could you write for the grumpy bröer, Theo and prompt #19: "we can share, only if I can feed you." Thank you!

Hello dear anon! Hope you're having a wonderful day/night. Sorry it took so much time to complete this. Hope you enjoy this!

Prompt:19. We can share, only if I can feed you

Characters: Theo, gn! MC. (not in relationship)

words: 1.3K

A/n: Cedric is side character in Theo's route. He is Theo's client

The evident discontent in those stormy blue eyes only deepened the delighted grin on your face. An incessant amusement danced in your eyes, which only prompted Theo to deepen his skin prickling glare on his co-worker as if adding fuel to the fire.

His desire only grew more when he looked in your direction, or quite precisely, at the stack of syrup-dipped pancakes in front of you.

But he had to control himself, as he remembered that he had lost the bet to you. He impatiently tapped his fingers against the table, which didn't go unheard by you. Your smile became more sympathetic and less of amusement as you saw his impatience.

You reminisced how you got how you had won the bet.

THE PREVIOUS DAY:

You and Theo were out in the city to select the paintings for his clients. Both picked a painting each to sell to Cedric, your esteemed customer.

You looked at your selection and smiled proudly to yourself. "I'm sure Cedric will choose my painting tomorrow. Theo scoffed beside you and crossed his arms. "No, knabbeltje. He's going to choose MY painting. I know his tastes and likes very well. "

"Oh please, Theo! Just because you are a famous art dealer here doesn't mean that your customers wouldn't like other's selection!" You turned to him with a sigh.

Theo raised a single eyebrow, a look of amusement in his eyes. He ran his fingers through his chestnut hair, his ocean blue eyes focusing on the small figure in front of him.

"The pup is barking against her master now, eh?"

"Speak for yourself, 'master.' "You scoffed exasperatedly.

Theo laughed mirthfully, amusement dripping in his laughter. "If you're so confident in your selection, Why don't we have a challenge?"

Your eyes perked up in interest at his statement. "Whomever's selection is picked by Cedric will be the winner tomorrow. "

You turned to him fully and asked," What will the winner get?"

Theo thought for a while before replying," The winner will get a treat from the loser in the parlour. And the losing one gets nothing to eat." You naturally accepted the challenge.

You were fuelled with a competitive spirit and accepted the challenge. Deep down, you were nervous. You knew this enterprising devil was not famous without any reason. His sharp eye and spot-on guess of others' character gives him a huge advantage over you. He's a prodigy, after all. But it was too late to take back your words by now.

The following day, you both went to Cedric's home with your paintings. You and Theo confidently smirked at each other, both of you willing to win the challenge at any cost. There was a playful tense atmosphere engulfing you both.

You asked Cedric to select a painting between the two that spoke to him the most. Time seemed to flow slowly as Cedric's hand touched his favourite painting. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted with a baffled expression on Theo's face. Cedric's hand was atop your painting. Your lips immediately broke into the broadest smile they can form, and your eyes were brimming with the confidence of a person who overcame their greatest difficulty.

You both finished selling the painting to him and came outside. You tapped Theo's shoulder with a grin on your face and chirped, "Well 'Master,' looks like the amateur has won the challenge this time.'

Theo smiled back at you genuinely, his fine features making him look even more boyish and handsome than usual. Your heart skipped a beat at his rare but genuine smile on his lips.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Let's go to the parlour, hondje. Gotta reward you for your hard work and victory. Looks like you're shining under my training."

You both shook your hands and smiled at each other, equally happy and feeling admiration for each other.

Theo took you to the parlour as he promised, and your mind was urging you to avenge Theo harmlessly. You thought of ways to tease Theo, and a brilliant idea popped up in your mind.

You just had to confirm one thing with him. "What was the condition again Theo, the one who lost gets nothing to eat, no?"

Theo nodded in agreement. You both took a seat. You called the waiter and were ready to give your order. But- just to taunt him, you pretended to go through the menu, thinking aloud. "Um- I crave something sweet. How about I order pancakes, Theo-? Oh, and also, I should not forget the syrup."

Theo understood your trick. Yet, he was getting riled up because you were taking full advantage of the challenge in your own way.

"Order whatever you want. And make it quick. I am not going to sit here and wait forever as you nibble on it."

You pouted at him. "I wanted to savour the pancakes slowly as I worked hard. But it looks like I can't…." You looked down at the table.

Theo sighed as he replied, "okay, stop right there. You don't have to guilt-trip me, you know? Do whatever you want."

You smiled at him, knowing that you had won the 'argument.' You ordered pancakes, and of course, the sweet syrup.

At present:

While you were taking your own sweet time enjoying the pancakes, looking at Theo trying to distract himself from his all-time favourite snack made you feel a bit guilty. You thought you had your share of fun, but you thought a little bit more of it wouldn't hurt anyone.

You looked at Theo and said, "Theo, I can't eat at peace while you are sitting there both patiently and impatiently at the same time somehow. So shall I propose an Idea?"

Theo leaned forward in his chair, a hint of curiosity shining in his eyes. "We can share the pancake, equally between us. But-" you gave a pause, looking at Theo in the eye. "But, what? Continue it, hondje."

You cleared your throat, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. "But- we can share, but only if I can feed you. "

Theo was taken aback by your proposal. He looked between you and the stack of pancakes, looking thoughtful. You were waiting for his decision. He looked hesitant, but he gave in to the temptation and accepted it. You laughed at him, amused by the way the tables had turned.

You cut into the pancakes and held your fork to his mouth, waiting for him to eat it. He nibbled at them, all the while looking away from you. The littlest hints of blush on his cheeks made you flustered as well, suddenly wondering how you look like to the other people. You looked at the glass window beside you, reflecting both of you. You looked like a couple, and suddenly, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

All of your confidence melted right there, just like the butter on the pancakes. You were about you retract your hand back, but Theo caught it gently before you could do it. He smiled at you and asked, "Are you taking back your deal? Will you leave me hungry? " You slowly shook your head, and Theo ate the remaining piece on the fork and grinned at you. "Eat fast. I also want to have my share of pancakes, as you said."

You realised it suddenly and nodded, quickly finishing up the remaining part of the pancake. Theo took the remaining half and ate it, still having a smug look on his face.

That entire evening, you were distracted, your thoughts filled with Theo and the failed challenge, which you thought would win by riling him up.

Hope you enjoyed reading it!

[astaroth1357]

The Demon Brothers (Minus Asmo) at Their Worst  Pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Levi)

To the anons who gave me this idea, here it is. Unfortunately, I can’t say I’m all that happy to bring it to you, cause yikes this hurt to write. I’m grateful, however, because I believe I’m better for it. You shouldn’t always stay in your comfort zone. I left out Asmodeus for personal reasons. Regardless of my ability, given the nature of this challenge, I don’t feel comfortable with writing nor posting graphic content of sexual violence and chose to refrain from doing so. Please do not ask for this to be written at a later date, I will politely refuse then as I am now.

Check out the Masterlist for more.

Warnings: THEIR SINS HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO AN EXTREME (AND ALL THAT IMPLIES), Abusive/Controlling Relationships, Violence, Threat of Human Trafficking, Drowning, Angst, Regret, Suicidal Thoughts

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Intro: Maybe the MC should have known better. It should have sunk in a long time ago that they were in incredibly risky territory... They should have remembered that these men, though they call them friends, family, and perhaps even lovers, are still demons at their heart and core. Each of them are the embodiment of some of the worst behaviors man has to offer... MC, there are some people you just shouldn’t date, even if they love you, and now you suffer the consequences...

Lucifer

It’s not difficult to see how Pride can go awry. Self-confidence and dignity are wonderful things, but let them build up unchecked and all manner of petty, vindictive behavior can surface from within a person... 

Lucifer is far from immune to these flare ups. In fact, he falls victim to them so often that they may as well be ingrained in his personality. If you do anything that mocks or belittles him, even if it’s small, you’ll get a reaction. One that’s usually more severe than offense calls for...

The MC knew this going into a relationship with him. Supposedly, they knew all the no-go zones, too. Don’t make fun of him or Diavolo, don’t mention the Fall or his back, don’t call him a nag... That sort of thing.

What they hadn’t expected was the full brunt of the expectations suddenly leveled on them.

To say Lucifer was demanding would be an understatement. Everything about him had to be poised, powerful, collected, and perfect. Whether he realized it or not, these expectations bled into their relationship as well.

It started with him nitpicking little details... The way they stood, how they styled their hair, maybe a comment or two on what they ate. But it progressively got worse...

Suddenly he found problems with the way they dressed, what they listened to, what shows they watched, even how they greeted him in the mornings!

Before too long, nothing was right to him… Nothing was good enough. They were his other half, his biggest vulnerability, and in order for him to feel secure about that they had to be perfect… However Lucifer defined it.

They listened to him at first. Though his comments stung, he could be so loving too… He truly made them feel special. Like he wouldn’t be trying so hard if it were anyone but them...

But pretty words and kind actions could only go so far. They couldn’t completely erase the vitriol being tossed at them day after day… 

Slowly, with every little change, they could feel themselves start to dwindle… The choices they made felt foreign, the lifestyle they held became draining, and then one day they realized they didn’t even look right anymore… They were no longer the person they wanted to be. 

Lucifer was doing what he set out to do: train them, break them, then mold them into something new... So they could be perfect...

Just like him.

One day, however, they just couldn’t take being the person he wanted anymore...

He found them in their bedroom just before a party that Diavolo had been planning for weeks. Their hair wasn’t fixed and their clothes were a mess. His frustration nearly skyrocketed until he saw their face, vacant and broken, staring blankly straight ahead…

He couldn’t rouse them. They wouldn’t move no matter how much he shouted, threatened, or swore...

….they didn’t even budge when he begged…

His brothers eventually noticed something amiss and took them away. Their disgust with him was fairly evident… They probably would have tried something had he not been the strongest.

He had taken something wonderful and squashed it... Hurt someone he truly loved and ruined what they could have had to protect his damn ego…

Lilith, his brothers, and Satan especially… was everyone he tried to care for just bound to end up broken too…?

The MC’s recovery was slow. They had a lot of damage to repair and a whole new identity to build. He stayed out of it as much as he could, burying himself in work and seeing his brothers less and less...

He’d done enough damage to them anyway...

Mammon

The Greedy, Scummy Second-Born… Words to etch on his tombstone. Mammon had heard it all before from all angles: the demons above him, below him, hell even a passersby on the street would know his face and his laundry list of a rap sheet...

The one person who seemed to look past all that was MC.

He truly didn’t know what sort of karma he’d gained or luck he scored to have them in his life. They didn’t just see him at his best side, they made him want to fix his worst...

But that’s easier said than done, isn’t it?

The sad truth is Mammon is a gambler at heart. Oh he loves the money, the riches, fine things, and the bling but what else does he enjoy? The rush.

There’s nothing like that feeling of triumphant when the dice falls your way or the pure exhilaration of a close bet. When all cards are on the table and everything’s stacked against you, eking out that win can cause a head-rush better than any orgasm he’s ever had... The higher the stakes? The better the high.

But maybe he went a little too far…

It’s one thing to bet Grimm, he can make more of that in a night. It’s another to bet items, harder to replace but not impossible. People…? Well. If you want high stakes…

MC was actually with him that night when he made the “great” decision to bet his most valuable treasure on poker match. He was running out of Grimm and thought that the added risk would make him play better…

He thought wrong.

MC hadn’t been at the table at the time he made the deal, but they had come back just in time to see him get his ass handed to him. He lost. Spectacularly.

When the other demons there came over to encircle MC, it already felt like his world was crumbling down around him... The look of confusion, then hurt and betrayal in their eyes forever seared themselves into his memory.

“You bet me in a poker game?!”

It sounds almost comical, but he knew what the demons were planning to do to them wasn't. And just seeing the way his human’s wrist snapped when one of the men wrenched their arm from them confirmed it.

He wouldn’t let them get away with that. When the threats escalated to violence, he took his share of punches but in the end he was left standing.

The MC was furious. He had just whittled their entire existence down to a bargaining chip and one that he tossed away carelessly…

Yeah, he’s truly a scumbag, isn’t he?

They didn’t talk to him for quite a while, despite him begging for forgiveness. There was always a part of him that wondered why he even bothered… He had done it before, and in another gambling-induced high he would probably do it again…

They’d honestly be better off without him...

Leviathan

It’s, frankly, quite difficult to be the Avatar of Envy. Every day Levi feels uncomfortable in his own skin… Like he doesn’t measure up to this or that or like he’s not worthy of being in the meager position afforded to him. He preferred to hide himself away and try not to dwell on it… but then MC came along…

For once, he felt like he had something. Something truly special. Something one of a kind and like no other… He couldn’t point to any of his brothers and say that they had something better, hell, he couldn’t even point to Diavolo and say that he had a finer version.

No. He had them. The one, the only, MC. Better than all the rest. His only great accomplishment in his miserable, pathetic life...

… so why did they keep leaving him…?

It didn’t hurt that badly at first when they’d tell him they couldn’t go watch some new anime with him because they had other plans. Sometimes they’d go off shopping with Mammon or have lunch with Beel… That was fine. Understandable.

At least that’s what he’d tell himself.

After a while though, he started to feel lonely… rejected… Was he not good enough for them? Surely that had to be it, right?? A miserable shut-in otaku with someone like them? What a joke!

Any time he’d voice his insecurities, they’d always say the same things: “No, don’t be silly!” “I really do want to be with you.” “I love you, Levi. Don’t you believe me?”

No. He didn’t. With each passing hour spent away from him, time where he would get shafted for one of his brothers instead, he believed them less and less…

Soon all he heard was lies…

Something possessed him that day. MC had just missed their third live stream in a row in order to be with his brothers instead. Which one was it? It didn’t really matter. He felt the stinging pain of isolation all the same…

When the MC walked into his room they had no way of knowing that the festering hatred and inadequacy that had been stewing in him for months was about to spill over. His anger was so quick to spark and their human body too weak to resist...

It was only once he realized how long he had their head forced under the water of his aquarium that he finally let them up for air.

He was stepping over himself to apologize, stammering incoherently through his tears how he just lost control and didn’t know what came over him!

His brothers weren’t forgiving. Not in the slightest. Each of them seemed to want to beat him within an inch of his life and he didn’t blame them… If he could get away with it, he’d march himself into the sea and let it serve as his rightful prison…

His punishments were severe, but not unending, and soon he was back in his room again. Now he never leaves it and the MC is never allowed back in, even if they want to be.

He now, truly, doesn’t deserve them at all...

Link to Part Two: Satan, Beel, Belphie

[hphm-stuff]

Hi.. I saw your post about hphm writing ask. Would you like to write some fluff about Talbott and my MC Viviana (Viv) please. Even Any fluff about Talbott alone too would be more than enough for me 🙂. Looking forward to it . Thanks and have a great time 🌸

I love Talbott and was really excited to get this request! As a general rule, I just right x reader fics so that everyone can enjoy them. I’m more than happy to write the fluff, and I really hope you enjoy it! I took this and ran with it, so hopefully it’s to your liking!

Pairing: Talbott Winger x Reader

Warnings: None, pure fluff.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Lil’ eagle boy overworks himself often, and you have to step in to remind him to take a break, take a breath, and enjoy the little things. Like flower crowns.

Note: I can’t draw for the life of me, but I would literally pay for a picture of Talbott with a flower crown. Please message me if you would let me commission that or something.

Flower Crowns

It was a Saturday, and you couldn’t find Talbott anywhere. You knew, knowing him, that he would be studying somewhere. The library? Too loud. His common room? Also too loud. His dorm? Not enough room for all his books at once. Your feet took you toward the abandoned Transfiguration classroom before you even realized where you were going. It was quiet, out of the way, and empty until Monday. That was the perfect place for him to go to focus. You stopped in front of the classroom and pushed the door open. It creaked gently, and you winced as you stepped in. You knew your boyfriend, and knew that he hated to be interrupted while studying. His head whipped around. The look on his face was a mixture of stress and annoyance, but once he registered it was you, it was replaced with a gentle smile. “Hey.”

“Hey. I was just looking for you.”

His smile grew ever so slightly and his voice took on a playful tone. “Miss me that much? We just saw each other last night.”

With a roll of your eyes and a light smile, you moved to occupy the vacant seat beside him. You turned to him, noting the literal mountain of books beside him. They had to be stacked at least a foot tall. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked over them. “It’s Saturday, T. Saturday afternoon. It’s a beautiful day outside. Why are you in here?”

He was scribbling something down on his parchment and answered absentmindedly. “There’s a Potions test on Monday, love. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“Of course I didn’t forget. Do you do anything other than study?”

He looked at you like that was the dumbest question he’d ever heard. “You know I do other things. We went to Hogsmeade last weekend.”

“After I practically begged for you to go. I’d asked you every week, and you finally relented.”

He shrugged, almost brushing you off. “I want to do well in classes.”

“Talbott, you already do well in classes. I can guarantee you that you’ll walk into that Potions test and ace it, without even trying.”

He sighed. “I just want to make sure I do that.”

“You need to stop working so hard sometimes. You’re so smart, T. So smart. You need to take a day to yourself sometimes.”

He was staring at his books, but you knew he was hearing your words. You watched him from your spot beside him, waiting for any sort of response. When he was quiet for a bit, you prodded more. “You need to think about yourself, T. You’re going to overwork yourself and burn out.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“When’s the last time you went a day without cracking open a book when you didn’t absolutely have to?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Please, take a break today. Let’s go do something. I don’t want you burning out.”

“Let me just go over a few more things and then I’ll put the book away, alright?” he sighed.

You relented and kept him quiet company as he worked. It took hours of you trying to entertain yourself and pestering him for him to finally pack up his books. It was getting into the early evening when he finally packed up.

“Can we finally do something?” you asked.

There were only so many things you could do to keep yourself occupied in an empty classroom. You’d already roamed the class, looking at all the books that line McGonagall’s shelves. You’d looked through the books Talbott brought that he wasn’t using. You’d even stared out the window for longer than you even knew.

Talbott looked at you with a gentle grin and nodded his head. “We can do something.”

You grinned in response. “Meet me by the forest in ten minutes. If you’re not there, I’m coming to find you.”

“I’ll be there. I’m just going to put my books away,” he responded after a light chuckle.

You took his word for it and made your way back to your dorm, grabbing a bag and shoving a comfortable blanket in there. You also grabbed yourself a sweater, tossing it in the bag as well, just in case it got chilly later. Once you’d grabbed everything you needed, you set off toward the forest. Talbott had beat you there, and he greeted you with a playful grin. “For a second I thought I’d have to come find you.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning as you made your way toward him. You took his hand and led him toward the outskirts of the forest, far enough away to be safe. The area you chose was riddled with little flowers of all colours. You then set down the bag you brought with you, pulling out the blanket and laying it on the grass. You heard Talbott speak from behind you, the smile evident in his voice. “What do you have planned?”

You let out a soft giggle and moved to sit on the spread out blanket, patting the spot beside you. He sank down onto it, turning to you with a smile. You returned it. “I just wanted to spend some time with you. I feel like we haven’t had a full conversation in forever.”

Talbott was leaning back a little, his hands on the blanket behind him to support him. He scooted closer to you, his tone light. “Or, maybe, you’re too high maintenance.”

He was grinning, his tone light and playful. You gasped, feigning offence. “Excuse me?”

He laughed gently. “Clingy might be the better word? Attached? Maybe obsess-”

You cut him off with a kiss. He smiled gently against your lips as he returned it. When you pulled back, he was grinning. “What was that for?”

“Your Ravenclaw was showing. I needed it to stop.”

He laughed gently, leaning in to press a light kiss to your cheek. “You usually love it.”

“Not when you’re making fun of me.”

He grinned, moving to place an arm around your waist. You looked at him, taking in that beautiful moment with that beautiful boy. It struck you, just then, how far you two had come. Talbott, usually reserved, quiet and lonesome was different with you. He was almost carefree. It was a wonderful feeling, realizing that you brought this out of him, even if it was only with you. He pulled you out of your thoughts with a soft clearing of his throat. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks before looking away. “Sorry.”

He tugged you closer by the arm that was draped around you. At this point, your thighs were pressed against each other. You picked your head up to look at him, and found that he was already looking at you. “What were you thinking about, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“I don’t buy that,” he mused.

You gave him a timid smile. “Just thinking about you.”

“About me?”

“Yeah.”

“What about me? Good things?”

You giggled. “Always good things, T. Just shocked at how different you are with me than you are with other people.”

A grin took over his face. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me, darling.”

His cheesiness made you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face was sure to let him know that you appreciated the comment.

The two of you spent some time chatting out in the open field, enjoying each others’ company. You, at some point, absentmindedly started to play with the flowers around you. You picked one, and with a grin, stuck it in Talbott’s hair while he was mid-sentence. He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

You beamed at the sight in front of you. Talbott was a slightly intimidating looking guy, and the flower in his hair was in total contrast to that. “You look so cute.”

He dropped his gaze to the blanket in front of him. You caught the smile and the light blush that dusted his cheeks. You giggled softly, moving to lean into his side. He wrapped an arm around you. “Well, if it looks that good, I see no need to take it out.”

You continued to pluck some flowers, suddenly getting an idea. You started tying them together with the stems, starting to make them into a haphazard circle.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s a flower crown,” you replied as if it was obvious.

“A what?”

“Usually you need a wire to put the flowers on, but we don’t have that right now. You just tie the flowers together and make them into a circle that will fit your head.”

You glanced over at him and caught him starting to gather up his own flowers. A light smile found its way onto your face as you turned back to the crown you were working on. When you were finished, you proudly presented it to him. It was a floppy mess of stems and blossoms, but he looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“For you, my love,” you giggled as you set it on his head.

He grinned at you, halfway through his own. You took in the sight of him with the crown on his head, looking even more beautiful than he had with just the single flower in his hair.

The sun was setting, and the golden glow on him in that moment made your heart skip a beat. He looked so soft. So sweet. He didn’t even notice your staring as he was so focused on his own crown. He got it done a few minutes later and grinned as he held it up for you to see. It looked a lot worse than yours, but you loved it because he made it. He moved to set it on your head. “You, my darling, look radiant as ever.”

You giggled, and for what felt like the millionth time that night, blushed. The two of you sat together under the setting sun, chatting and cuddling up for warmth, or so he said. The night air was not, by any means, chilly, but you suspected that he wanted to be close to you without admitting it.

After sitting out there well past curfew, the two of you decided to pack it in for the night. Hand in hand, you walked toward the castle, still wearing your flower crowns. He walked you back to your common room and the two of you stood there for a moment. He finally spoke. “Thank you for convincing me to do something other than study. I needed that.”

You giggled. “I’m always happy to distract you. Those books get more attention than I do.”

“That’ll change, I promise.”

“It better,” you replied playfully.

He grinned at you, leaning in to place a delicate kiss to your lips. You placed a hand on your cheek as you returned it. When he broke away from it, he gave you a light smile. “Maybe we can do something else tomorrow?”

You grinned. “Of course. Any suggestions?”

“Doesn’t matter to me, as long as I get to spend time with you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After one more gentle kiss, he was off to his common room. You watched him go, only turning to head inside when he was out of sight.

[stygianflood]

Hideaway (Ethan x F!MC)

Summary: As promised, a very canon-divergent version of Ethan’s... dark mood. 3.8; Ethan’s PoV

Words, rating, genre, trope- 1.5k, General, Fluff (but the tone is angsty); hurt/comfort

A/N- It bothered me that Ethan’s demand for consolation was an either-this-or-nothing sort of scenario, when we know the real Ethan Ramsey would never! In this universe Ethan just leaves refusing MC’s offer to help. Much like Book 1 ❤ Also, I really tried to make sense of whatever PB is making Harper do. And there might be an Easter egg near the end.

The amber liquid sloshes down his throat, trickling into the more labyrinthine crevices of his mind, sharp and biting. Somewhere in a sky not veiled by the havoc of civilisation, a forlorn sun pours itself in a steady drip. 

For each of the last fifteen minutes, his finger has been teetering on the brink of a call he knows he’ll make.

I don’t need you to follow me, Aparna. I knew there could be consequences. 

I made my bed... The least I can do is lie in it.

She stood before him, under the lurid new lights of the revamped atrium. Face contorted in worry, and something else he is no longer a stranger to.

That doesn’t mean you have to weather them alone. 

I care about you. Talk to me.

And she looked no older than she did in her first year. 

In those days the atrium housed the trees planted in his intern year, and some even older. And Aparna had implored him to stay. Because the patients needed him. Because she needed him. 

Ethan was not brave enough to admit he needed her more than she would ever need him. That part of them remains pitifully unaltered.

This time however, it’s different from letting her in. It’s about beating the devil at his own game. Wrestling his slippery self on a rock face. 

He wonders what it’s like on the other side of the tunnel. The darker side that the likes of Bloom inhabit. The one that doesn’t have its throat slit by the glare of street lights. More importantly, how do the likes of Dr. Ramsey beat him at his own game and remain unscathed.

He’s being reckless. Dangerously so. But whatever else he might tell himself, he is lonely too.

Cloistered in an apartment that never felt emptier, he can almost hear her terrible joke on fingers of scotch. When did the notoriously single Ethan Ramsey become this dependent he wonders.

After four arduously long rings, he almost disconnects the call.

‘Ethan?’

‘Hey.’

The silence stretches into a long and restless twilight across his windows, and he thinks he ought to ask about her day. She beats him to it.

‘Do you want me to come over?�� 

‘That… That would be nice.’

She definitely rolls her eyes on the other side of the line. 

***

‘Do you ever wish you’d settled for someone… less complicated?’ He avoids her eyes fixing his own on the ceiling. 

The fingers massaging his forehead stall for the briefest quarter of a second before resuming. The slight shift finds his head even more snugly settled in her lap.

He feels stifled by an all-consuming sense of helplessness. And it’s different from the trickiest diagnoses when he knows he’s giving his all and failing. It is a plethora of all that is wrong with the system. The one he has been pitted against all his life, and mostly managed to thwart.

Ethan Ramsey never settles for half-measures. Not when he can help it. And with Bloom, he cannot. 

Not unless he tips the scales in his favour. And it has taken the last morsel of his sanity to plot it.

No loose ends. Or second footprints for that matter. One more ethics hearing and her career would end before it began, and Naveen himself could do nothing about it.

Yet here he is. The irony of it biting, as the one person he needs to protect by all means is the one being implicated. If Harper, one of the most level-headed people he knows-

‘Besides the fact that I’m nowhere close to being settled?’ Aparna interrupts his thoughts from somewhere above him. 

Oh.

‘Sorry, I didn't mean-’ 

Of course she is grinning. Annoyingly smug and utterly distracting. 

He could kiss her senseless and wipe the smirk off those lips. Make her moan right here on the couch. 

He almost does.

‘Did you wish you weren’t involved with someone whose medical license was about to be revoked?’ She asks.

Her fingers rove about his temple, right where he has recently seen specks of silver. And he awaits a joke about his age that never comes.

‘Ethan…’

God, he hopes he doesn’t look that miserable.  

‘I need you to know I’d go anywhere with you. And I mean that-’ She holds his chin to turn his face. ‘I mean that in every sense of the word. Thought you’d know by now.’

She looks strangely composed. 

It could be the immensity of her proclamation. Or the ease with which it has rolled off her tongue. But it alarms him. Not because he isn’t ready, because make no mistake he is. It alarms him because she is doing it again. 

In that moment all of his life could flicker past him like the tedious crackle of an old television set, and he’d still be enraptured by the unwavering intent in her eyes.  

And she looks no older than she did in her first year. 

He raises a hand grazing the softness of her neck. Her cheek. And the corner of her parted lips. 

Come here is all he manages before drawing her face to his own.

He only vaguely remembers the drive back home when he wanted to be in control of his life. He has never felt more disarmed. Or more- he discerns the lump in his throat- in love.

Beads of crimson settle on the horizon, and in the abandoned dregs of his whisky. The natural order of things calls for day and night. Much in the same way it summons droughts and downpour.

And as for him, he’d come undone for her again and again.

***

The stillness of the air is riddled by his own ragged breaths mingling with hers. And the deluge in his mind almost subsides. 

‘Glad that I stayed?’ She props herself on her elbows and lazily smiles down at him.

‘Always.’

She peppers the column of his neck with a final drizzle of kisses before burying one languid hand in his hair and settling against him. Just as the silence is splintered by the buzz on his coffee table.

Thankfully it’s not her pager. Just her phone. And her fingers resume their stroking of his hair.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Pleasantly spent.’ It’s his first genuine smile in hours. ‘But really, several things at once.

‘And I’ll talk to Harper as soon as I can.’

‘I appreciate that, but… I think we need to talk to each other,’ She says. ‘For the team, but also for ourselves. 

‘I need to be able to forgive her. Not today perhaps. But I need to do it.’

He agrees. But he is baffled that Harper should accuse her now. Especially when she was willing to wait for evidence when Aparna had actually breached ethics as an intern.

Is it his tactlessness he wonders, as she loops his arm around herself. Speaking over her inputs, denying the credibility she has earned in the team by sheer hard work. 

Creating the impression that she’s still just an intern with history.

As her breath cools the sheen of sweat on his chest, he instinctively gathers her even closer. And not for the first time that evening, he feels he doesn’t deserve her.

Damage control, the interminable mutterings in his mind suggest. He needs to ensure Harper has not spoken to anyone outside the team. And Tobias has not prattled. Perhaps give Naveen a heads up.

‘Check that,’ He remarks as her phone buzzes again. ‘It could be work.’ 

But just as he is about to disentangle himself to make the calls, he sees them.

Just wanted to check on you. 

Hope you’re not beeting yourself up over it.

Not a saved contact on her phone he realises. But it’s familiar. A little too familiar. He decides against asking.

She shakes her head with a faint half-smile before replacing the phone and curling up to him. She loops an arm about his chest as he strokes rehearsed patterns on her back. 

It’s minutes before they startle the peace.

‘Thank you for being here tonight, Apu,’ He almost whispers. ‘For helping me work through this.'

‘I meant what I said, Ethan,’ She says. ‘I’ll always be there for you. 

‘Even when I don’t agree with you.’

And it’s there again. That frightfully alarming calm on her face every time she promises to leap.

When he takes her bottom lip between his teeth, it’s with the ardour of a disciple who did not just invoke her minutes ago, or this morning, or into the wee hours of the night before. 

‘And I hope,’ He manages breathlessly. ‘I hope I never take that... Take you for granted.’

She doesn’t respond. Except for the immutable glimmer in her eyes. And he knows.

He decides he will call Naveen and Harper once she’s asleep. He’ll not unsettle her. Not when it might never happen. 

‘What happens when we go back out there?’

If he only knew.

‘Let’s get you to bed.’ He smiles, lacing his fingers with hers.

His life has long stopped being the neatly stacked manila folders he’d once sorted it into. For all he knows, it could be dipped and bent in all directions tomorrow. 

But he also knows she will be right there on the promontory with him.

Thank you all for reading this!  A special shout-out to @starrystarrytrouble​ because I had the inspiration to write after ages solely because of our chat ❤

Let me know if you’d want to be added or removed.