#till death do us part collection

[chahnniesroom]

for richer, for poorer

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: gift giving has always been something you've agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: insecurities (especially related to finances), feeling anxious, hurt/comfort

a/n: i know it’s still a long time until october, but i didn't write it in time to fit as like a holiday related fic.

bonus: minho's reaction to his gift (included as a reblog of this post)

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Gift giving has always been something that you agonised over. You wanted so desperately to get something meaningful and special that nothing you ended up getting seemed special enough.

So when Felix had proposed throwing both Chan and Minho a party for their birthdays, you were more than happy to help plan. You could see that Chan had hesitated when Felix had told them about it, but he had ultimately agreed when he saw the way Minho had seemed to perk up at the idea.

It wouldn’t be anything too big, Felix promised, just inviting some close friends to have dinner and hang out. It slowly balloons into more than a simple dinner, but the opportunities for the members to have their friends gather are so rare that you swallow your concerns.

The night of, you can’t help feeling a bit nervous. You recognise almost everyone, but that's the part that scares you - you've only seen most of these people through your phone screen before. You know Chan and Minho have a lot of idol friends, but you didn't realise there would be so many at the party. You had discussed the guest list with Felix briefly, but your concern had been about the number of guests and not who they actually were. Now you’re starting to regret it, you aren’t mentally prepared to be face to face with so many celebrities.

The time passes surprisingly quickly with people trickling in as the night goes on. Dinner is casual, you’ve helped to cook a number of dishes and takeout was ordered to fill the rest of the counter. There isn’t enough proper seating so everyone is spread throughout the kitchen and living room.

You spend most of the time just wandering through and making sure that there’s no shortage of drinks, appetizers, and that the empty dishes or cups are cleared away. Of course, you greet everybody as they arrive and thank them for coming, but it’s hard not to be intimidated by all the famous faces.

Eventually Changbin drags the birthday boys to the living room, standing them in front of the TV to open gifts. Everyone else either crams themselves onto the couches, sits on the floor, or loiters closer to the doors.

Chan insists that he open presents at the same time as Minho instead of one at a time like Jisung suggests. Someone pushes a couple of matching boxes into their hands and steps away.

It's almost comical how different they open them. Chan takes his time, carefully pulling apart the ribbon that's wrapped around the box, sliding the lid off and putting it to the side, then slowly peeling aside the tissue paper. Minho on the other hand, manages to pull the ribbon off the box without untying it and flips the box to shake off the lid and reveal the contents.

They're complementary hoodies in the casual and oversized fit that the boys usually go for. You recognize the brand, have seen the members wear it on more than one occasion, and know that they most likely cost the same as your monthly salary.

The next gifts seem fairly innocuous, a beanie for Chan and a baseball cap for Minho, but you know their pieces often go for over a million won, more than you’ve ever spent on a single clothing item.

It continues on like this, the boys receiving items like music equipment, alcohol, and sunglasses. It makes you swallow hard when you think of your own, mostly handmade gift.

Maybe the worst part is that nobody else at the party even blinks an eye at it. You can’t blame them, it’s the nature of their occupation that has gotten them desensitised to being surrounded by luxury and it’s not like they can’t afford to indulge in getting more expensive things.

When you look down, wanting to stop staring at the pile of opened gifts, you see that you've partially crushed the packaging of your own gift. It already looked shabby enough, it was obvious you had wrapped it yourself and the paper you used was from the supermarket, but now it was even worse.

When you try to smooth out the crinkles, your shaky fingers somehow make it ruin it more. You bite your lip, hard, then stop, self conscious about your appearance around all these idols.

It suddenly feels cramped and too warm, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and back. The room starts to spin slightly and you become overly aware of your heart beating in your chest.

A burst of laughter from the crowd spooks you, pulling you out of your head. You use the opportunity to get to your feet and excuse yourself. You slip away as quietly as you can and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it into Chan's room without anyone following you.

You don’t bother to turn on the lights, not wanting anyone to check up on you, and sit on the ground with your back against Chan’s bed. With the door closed, the noise from the party is muffled and it’s significantly colder in this area of the dorm. You press your hands to your face and take a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you because you know you shouldn’t feel like his. You had been looking forward to watching Chan and Minho open their gifts, you had spent a lot of time preparing them and you had felt confident that they would enjoy them.

Well, until you saw everything else that they received.

Now your ideas just seemed silly. You feel humiliated at the thought of everybody seeing the obviously cheap gifts and even worse when you consider how ashamed Chan might be for others to know that you were his partner.

Although you were working full-time at the moment, you had only graduated from university last year and your student debt was an ever present weight on your shoulders that you tried your best to hide. Everything you had went to paying it back and checking in bi-weekly to see the number get smaller and smaller was the only thing that made you feel better.

Chan knew that you often worried about money. You had been mortified the first time that he had walked in on you trying to organise your finances for the next few months. He had glanced over your shoulder before you had even realised he was in the room and all the red cells showing where you were in a deficit were hard to miss.

It had been early on in your relationship and the dates that the two of you had been on as well as a couple unforeseen events had meant that you had been spending way more than what you had anticipated. Of course, Chan had treated you on a number of occasions, but you refused sometimes because you felt guilty every time he offered to pay, especially since it had been only a couple years after his debut.

He had been more than understanding, but you had been so embarrassed and caught off guard that you couldn't stop the tears from streaking down your face. Since then, Chan and the members had never done anything to make you feel like they pitied you or thought any less of you for your financial situation, in fact they did the opposite.

When you had first started visiting the dorms, opening the food delivery apps was like a reflex for all of the boys once it was dinnertime. You were always hesitant to choose anything and felt even worse by the nonchalant way that they covered the costs each time. Even though you knew they didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of their hospitality.

Somehow they caught on to your reluctance to buy food and now it's tradition that you cook for them when you come over, enough so that they keep the kitchen stocked with more than ramen, chicken breasts, and protein powder.

In particular, Minho absolutely loved your cooking and had needled you many times on sharing how you made it. You had always denied him though, saying that you didn't use exact measurements and came up with things on the fly. That’s why for his gift, you had taken the time to create a recipe book, complete with pictures for each step and modifications that he could make based on the ingredients he had.

You had spent a few months thinking about what to give Chan. He was harder to shop for since you knew he wasn't overly fond of celebrating his birthday and didn’t want you to spend money on him, but was always touched when you got him something. Usually, you tried to do something he was more likely to accept.

Last year, you had organised with the company to give Chan a day off and had taken him out to a movie. It was a pretty standard date, but the two of you rarely had the opportunity to go out together and you knew Chan had resigned himself to watching the movie when it was released online instead of going to the theatres like he had hoped to. Having to spend a few days trying to sort out all the logistics of secretly rearranging Chan’s schedule had been more than worth it with the way that his face had lit up when you had told him about what you had planned.

You don't know how long you sit alone, but every time that you tell yourself to get up and rejoin the party, it feels impossible to move.

“Hey,” Chan's voice is cautious, but you startle anyway, scrambling to stand up. Stuck in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just needed some air, it was getting kind of stuffy in there,” you explain. “I didn't think you'd notice.”

“Of course I noticed. You were there one second and gone the next, I didn't know what happened.”

“It’s nothing.” You avoid Chan’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern that shines in his eyes.

Chan steps closer, then reaches out and tangles your fingers together, using your connection to pull the two of you to sit on the bed.

“Y/n, baby,” he says softly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in here.” He leans forward until the side of his head bumps into yours.

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s not important,” he warns. “It’s important to you and that makes it important to me, okay?”

“Uhm,” you pause for a moment, unsure of how you want to word your thoughts. You trust Chan, but it still feels scary being vulnerable. “I guess, I was just feeling… Insecure.”

“Insecure?” Chan tilts his head slightly. “About what?”

“Everyone-” you laugh slightly, embarrassed. “Everyone gave you guys such nice gifts, I feel like mine don’t even compare.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. If I had the choice, nobody would be giving me gifts at all. Just having you in my life is enough.” Chan’s voice is painfully sincere.

“I know you don't mind. It just- It feels bad that I can't give you something nice like they can. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help it.”

“I can open it here, away from everyone else if you want,” Chan offers. “Or you don't even have to give it to me today, you can save it until you feel better. Or don't give it to me at all, it's all okay.”

“No no, I want you to have it,” you say immediately. Before you can think better of it, you reach down and retrieve the gift from where you left it on the floor.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Chan reassures you.

“This is fine,” you decide. “Just the two of us."

“Okay.”

“It’s not designer,” you say suddenly, fiddling with the ribbon that keeps the two packages together. Both of you ignore the fact that you’re just stalling at this point.

“I don’t need any more clothes, I barely wear everything I own now,” Chan jokes.

“Really, you might not like it,” you warn.

“Baby, when have I ever disliked anything that you’ve gotten for me?” Chan drops the teasing tone. You think for a moment.

“When you asked me to order noodles for you and I accidentally got you the spicy version and it made you cry?”

“Did I say that I didn’t like them?”

“No, you ate it all even though I warned you that it would make your stomach hurt for the next couple of days,” you say, smiling faintly at the memory.

You had gotten yourself the same dish and had found it to be bearable, while Chan’s face had turned bright red after the first bite. You had offered a few times to get him a non-spicy version so that he could enjoy himself, but he had been determined to finish, soaking his shirt and beanie with how much he had sweated. He hadn’t even been able to continue carrying a conversation with you, too busy trying to suck in air to cool his mouth.

It had been even funnier for you the next day, receiving multiple texts from Chan about his stomach hurting and having to continually pause dance practice to go to the bathroom.

“The pain was worth it,” Chan insists. “I'm actually convinced that I'll like anything you give me. Now come on, let me open my gifts!”

You hand over the gift and watch as he pulls away the ribbon to separate the boxes and peels away the tape on the first package. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries not to rip the wrapping paper.

This gift was more neutral, a set that contained a wallet and cardholder, both in black. Although Chan hadn’t complained at all, the wallet he had been using was from years ago and the synthetic material was starting to crack and flake away at the edges.

He looks delighted, examining it briefly before pulling out his old wallet and transferring all his cards and cash into this new one. Although it’s not a name brand, you had purchased it at a small shop specialising in handcrafted genuine leather goods at a surprisingly affordable price. It was good quality and suited the simplicity that Chan preferred.

“It's just what I needed,” he says, sounding pleased. “You pay so much attention.”

“I'm glad you like it,” you say, feeling relieved even though you had been pretty sure that he would be happy with it.

The unease comes back when he turns his attention to the second gift. Once again, he puts in effort to gently unwrap it, revealing an old chocolate box that you had repurposed from one of your dates.

You’ve always been on the more sentimental side and had saved it, wanting to remember the evening that Chan had taken you out and the two of you had spent 20 minutes in the shop, meticulously picking out the flavours that you wanted to try. The box is made of a surprisingly durable material and is the perfect size for this gift. You’ve painted over it too, concealing the original design.

Chan turns it around in his hands curiously, before sliding the lid up. You turn away to stare at your hands, overwhelmed by nervousness.

You already know what’s inside. It’s a deck of cards that you’ve transformed, with 52 things I love about you inscribed on one of the jokers. On the flip side, you’ve painted a picture of you and Chan smiling widely with your cheeks pressed together. It’s his favourite, one he always tells you would be permanently on his lock screen if he wasn’t an idol.

The rest of the cards are decorated similarly, a small drawing or painting on one side with the things, people, and places that Chan loves on one side, and something that you love about Chan on the other. The last joker is the only one that's different, you've treated it as a card and have a small message written on.

You had been so excited when you had thought of the idea, even though it was almost embarrassingly cheesy. Chan was often hard on himself, overly critical, and sometimes insecure. You tried your best to reassure him that he was doing well, both in his career and personal life, but you weren’t always able to be with him to do it in person.

As time goes by, your dread just continues to build, but you don't dare look up, not wanting to see Chan's reaction. Based on the silence, he’s clearly not thrilled with the silly idea that you had gone with. You can almost imagine his expression, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he tries to think of what he can say to let you down easy.

Finally, you can't take it any longer and you lean forward, reaching out to grab at the cards that he's still reading though.

“I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know,” you say quickly. “You can tell me that you hate it, it's okay. I don't know what I was thinking, but just- give me more time, I'll get you something else, something nicer-”

It catches Chan off guard, and instead of successfully taking the cards away, you grapple with them for a second before they slip between both of your hands, scattering across the floor like confetti.

You instantly drop to your knees, scrabbling to scoop them up like the most awful game of 52 pick up that you've ever played in your life. To your horror, the task gets even more difficult as tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Y/n-” Chan says gently, reaching out and taking your wrists in his hands to stop your frantic movements. “Come here.”

You resist for a moment, but he pulls you into his arms, cradling your head so your face is resting on his shoulder. The tears leaking from your eyes soak into the fabric and you sniffle softly.

“I'm sorry,” you say, voice partially muffled. “I'm a mess.”

In response, Chan pulls back slightly and when you don't turn towards him, he taps a finger against your cheek until you face him. Your eyes widen when you notice that he also has tear tracks streaking down his face.

“What-”

“It's okay, I'm a mess too. I should have said it sooner,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Still in his embrace, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I love it. I was overwhelmed, I wanted to say something but you left me speechless.”

“Don't just say it-”

“I've never had a gift so thoughtful, Y/n,” Chan says earnestly. “How could you think this was stupid? You must have spent hours and hours on it and I really appreciate it. It’s just- is this really what you think of me?”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Do you really love that-” Chan picks up the closest card to him and flips it so that he can read the message. “That I snore? Y/n, why do you even have this in the list?”

“Yes, snoring was one thing and it's because with everything, there’s always a reason to love it. It's not that I love that you snore, but with your insomnia, hearing you snore is a relief because it means you're sleeping, that you're resting. Even with your insomnia, I know you're busy thinking of every little way you can make things just right for you and the members. It's because you care so much, how could I not love these parts of you?”

“You- you really love all these little things?”

“Of course I do,” you say in a hushed voice. “Of course. When I was making these, I couldn't fit it all. I love everything about you, Chan.”

This time, it's Chan that breaks eye contact, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you.”

“It's not about deserving. You didn't have to do anything, that's the whole point. I love you just as you are.”

“You know that's how I feel about you, right?”

“Chan-”

“Even if you never got me anything ever again, I wouldn't love you any less. You being in my life, by my side, that's the greatest gift you could ever give.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[edgarallenrich28]

Astrology Observations pt. 2 🌈💌🐦‍⬛

- Mars in the 6th house will start deep cleaning and organizing everything when they are mad or in conflict! They also tend to over medicate themselves when they are sick.

- Moon square Mars natal will cause a person to be very harsh toward women either physically, emotionally or both. These people (depending on other astrological influences to moon) can fall into fits of rage or even borderline abuse toward women if underdeveloped. They may also have periods of extreme anger toward their mother. If the native is a woman, she may have many conflicts with women or view them as competition.

- Mercury in Pisces love to talk and debate about politics or subjects pertaining to the human collective. They become very passionate about their positions.

- Saturn in Virgo pours so much of their efforts into caring for others and filling their needs, they may forget about their own needs. They forget to tend to their daily routines, which includes taking their medication on time or even eating proper meals. They feel guilt when they take anything for themselves.

- Virgo moons are hypochondriacs and germaphobes who hate taking risks. They fear getting injured or sick, or even dying. They prefer doing things and being in places that are familiar to them and that keeps them on routine (think of the giraffe from Madagascar)

- Taurus placements, especially moon and Venus usually have great relationships with guys. Taurus is representative of brotherhood/comradory. A woman may be naturally “one of the boys” or fit in very well in male spaces. Men with this probably have a large network of friends who he considers “brothers”

- Saturn in Taurus people may have insecurities about their physical appearance. Even if they’re very beautiful, they may not want you to look at them if they don’t feel attractive that day, even causing them to cancel plans. They may slack on self care rituals or refrain from spending money on luxury items for themselves. It would be helpful for these types to splurge once in a while on a good skin care product or quality fabrics.

- Venus in the 3rd house probably has very beautiful younger siblings & really care for them. One of the things others notice about them is their love for their younger sibling ❤️

- Venus in Scorpio are the epitome of “till death do us part” when they fall in love. They’re very selective, but when they do find someone they are extremely loyal, and willing to sacrifice themselves to the extreme for the person they love. However if the relationship turns sour, they will make sure you regret ever being born

[tsuutarr]

Tsuutarr Yantober 2024 Masterlist

(Thank you to @ozzgin for the wonderful prompts!!!)

All Yandere x Reader fics are listed below!

Love at first sight -- Virgil (Unicorn)

Fate -- Aizono (Love God)

Secret collection -- Samuel Foster (Childhood "Friend")

Homemade meal -- Mason Cane (Hucow Farmer)

Love letters -- Rome (Ghost)

Unorthodox gift -- Mulsu (Forgotten Water God)

Dear Alice -- White Rabbit (Alice in Wonderland)

Always with you -- Finley (Guardian Angel)

Heart on a platter -- Rome (Ghost)

Love triangle -- Hae Sol and Dal Moon (Light Familiars)

Bloodbath -- Elias Lightrend (Hero/Chosen One)

Lovestruck... literally -- Lovell (Cupid)

On my knees -- Finley (Guardian Angel)

Embrace -- Teddy (Teddy Bear)

Paranoia -- ParanoiAI (Artificial Intelligence)

A piece of me -- Cot (Garden Fairy)

Spiraling -- Samuel Foster (Childhood "Friend")

Control -- Jiu Oh (Crossdressing Childhood Friend)

Under lock and key -- Virgil (Unicorn)

Dissection -- Rome (Ghost)

Love patterns -- Aizono (Love God)

Bandages -- Elias Lightrend (Hero/Chosen One)

Aftercare -- Tynan (Incubus)

I put a spell on you -- Cot (Garden Fairy)

Tainted love -- Lovell (Cupid)

Breaking point -- Tynan (Incubus)

Trap -- Mason Cane (Hucow Farmer)

The fine art of poisoning -- Geoffrey Cullen (Butler)

I come with knives -- Teddy (Teddy Bear)

Bad ending -- Elias Lightrend (Hero/Chosen One)

Till death do us part -- Thomas Frankenstein (Mad Scientist)

[sw3etnena]

Till death do us part

Summary: Votes are just words when a betrayal is discovered.

Warnings: Angst, physical aggression, torture, false betrayal, Pregnancy.

Author's notes: Let's start with an important fact, English is not my first language, if there is any spelling mistake, blame the translator! Second fact: Votes and reposts are appreciated, so please do this charity. And third fact: I know them, seriously, but I ended up running out of ideas for scenarios, so I got inspired by the Russians (since they have a history)

☆"I, Y/N/S, take thee, Simon Riley, to be my lawfully

wedded husband."☆

Ghost Husband! Who feels the world fall apart when he opens the yellow folder left on his desk, photos of you, talking and exchanging envelopes with a man he knows very well, after all, he was the one who captured him, a member of the Russian force.

He runs through the corridors, all eyes seem to be on him, but he doesn't care, clutching the envelope in his hands as he runs to the cells, where he knows you would be, where you are.

— Ghost… — Price steps in front of him, his hands holding your shoulders, Ghost can't look at him, his eyes fixed on you, hanging, hurt and almost unconscious.

— Did she betray us? — The question seems to come out bitterly, every piece of Ghost collapses when the captain nods reluctantly.

— Andrey Petrov. He confessed things that only she heard besides us. — He explains, and then Ghost pushes him aside, opening the cell, he sees you raise your head.

— Si… — You try with a broken voice, grunting when he squeezes your cheeks.

— We share the same bed. — He interrupts, you notice his eyes shining with tears. — And yet you betrayed me. YOU BETRAYED US!

You flinch when he shouts, pushing away from you aggressively.

— They lied, I-I. — You stop only to watch him rip open the envelope, throwing the photos at your bruised body. You tremble as you look at the photos, your doctor, the one who examined you two weeks ago, who told you in no uncertain terms that a child was on the way.

Did he lie?

— Simon… — Your voice breaks, suddenly you find the strength to face your husband. — He's my doctor, I was…

— Confidential conversations. — He interrupts again, approaching you again, pointing his finger in your face. — That only you heard, only you, me, and the captain, don't fucking lie to me.

— Simon…

— DON'T CALL ME THAT! — He yells, his hands coming up to hold your hair, you scream in pain. — You're nothing more than a traitor now.

Traitor.

'I swear to love and care for you at all times, and if I fail, it's because I'm dead." Simon says in a low voice, a soft smile on his face as he places the ring on your finger. "I swear to have you as my wife for the rest of my life, at all times, I will love you."

— I am… — You try to say, your voice dies when the door is opened once again, revealing a soldier, your colleague, known as “Wasp”.

— Lieutenant… The captain is calling you. — I’m coming. — And then he lets go of your hair, and slowly lifts your balaclava, collecting saliva and then spitting it on your face, the saliva mixing with your tears.

— I’ve already finished what I had to do. — And as soon as he leaves, you know that your world has ended, every piece of it, slipped through your fingers, so quickly, it all started in the morning, when you appeared in the mess hall, and everyone turned to you, until your captain, and best man at your wedding, punched you in the ribs, you fell to your knees, and then you were dragged to a cell.

— Please… — Your voice is interrupted by the scream that escapes, with the sharp pain of the cut on your arm, and then cheeks, thighs and legs.

— Your little friend asked me to say something. — The woman sighs, turning the bloody knife in her fingers. You frown. — It wasn’t fake. What wasn’t fake?

And then your eyes widen, your heart pounding in your chest.

— Listen, I swear I'm not a traitor. — A strong slap is placed on your face, you bite your cheeks before continuing. — You need to tell Simon that…

— Do you really think we're going to believe anything you say? — She questions, getting closer only to put the knife too close to your neck.

— Then go through my sock drawer. — You beg, tears falling. — If you ever had any respect for me, as a partner, at least tell Simon that. She doesn't answer, she just takes the knife away from your neck, grabs a bucket of ice water, and throws it on your body.

It was at that moment that you knew you were going to die.

☆"I promise to be faithful. "☆

You have no idea what time it is. The cell is dark, and now empty, only the sound of water dripping from your disheveled clothes fills the dirty environment, decorated with your blood and dried tears.

No one visited you besides the woman, but you know there's a soldier at the door, you can see the shadow, they all came to look at you, not for long enough, just telling you how disgusted you made them, Kyle, Price, Ghost, they were all at your wedding, they were all your family.

You decide to stop mourning, there aren't many things in the room, but there is the knife used by the woman who tortured you, under a table a few feet away from you.

With difficulty, you manage to free yourself from the handcuffs, your feet finally falling silently to the dirty floor, you don't care, picking up the knife, also ignoring the pain in your broken thumbs.

Hiding is also easy, you just stay behind the door, until you hear the soldier curse, and then open the door, looking for you, who is quick to attack - even with the pain in your body - You press the knife into his shoulder, he grunts in pain, and then you knock him down, piercing just below his ribs, a clean cut, without any damaged area, you were not a monster like them.

You grab the man's boots that are easily too big for your feet, but it doesn't matter, not when you run silently through the corridors, ignoring the silent pains in your body.

Dodging the awake soldiers is easier than it seems, ducking and sneaking, but unfortunately, the emergency button is soon activated, while you hide behind a column, everyone runs in the opposite direction, and you smile mentally, stumbling until you reach the outside, and then into the forests.

During the night, which you discover is cold, you hold your slightly larger belly, it's a search for comfort, and you can't help but pray that he's okay.

You don't know how long you've been walking, but at some point, your still wet body feels heavy, and you find yourself forced to lean against a tree, sliding until you fall on top of the leaves, you sigh, your eyes closing. I'm not going to die.

☆"love you and respect you ."☆

— WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?! — Ghost screams as he pushes the door, the squad stares at him, clearing their throats.

— She injured one of ours, and then ran away. — Price explains. — All we know is that she ran into the forest.

— She would have to walk more than ten kilometers to find any sign of life. — Ghost grumbles, rubbing his forehead in irritation.

— She must have someone waiting for her. — Kyle suggests.

— And wouldn't they come for Andrey? — Ghost interrupts.

— Y/N could be the real piece, Andrey is probably a pawn. — Kyle explains, crossing his arms.

— He got caught and then he ratted her out, we just need to know how she got someone to come looking for her.

— That doesn't matter now. — Price says, walking around the room. — We need to know what she knew, and how much they know.

And then they go back to Andrey's cell, who is more injured than you, with a broken nose, and yet a splendid smile on his face, the smile of a winner, he starts to hum.

— Не плачь, девочка, мама тебя спасет. — Ghost approaches, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

— What is he singing? — Ghost asks the translator next to him, he doesn't take long to answer.

— Don't cry girl, mommy will save you. — Ghost sighs deeply, holding his jaw.

— Tell me what you know.

— Она такой хороший солдат, мой друг, она девушка. — he says with difficulty.

— She'll make a good soldier, I bet it's a girl. — The military man translates.

— Who is she? — Ghost takes a deep breath, irritation growing in his body.

— Кто она? — The translator asks.

—Это, очевидно, ваша дочь. — He says, looking at Simon with a big smile.

For a moment, even the military man translating stops, his eyes wide and his breath held.

— What the fuck did he say? — Ghost steps away, approaching the translator, who reluctantly looks into his eyes.

— Your daughter.

No. It can't be. I-

It's impossible.

He doesn't,

there's no way,

no-

— Daughter? — His questions come out slowly.

— The one in your little wife's belly. — The prisoner says with an accent, his voice thick and drawn out, his smile seems to widen, and suddenly Ghost feels suffocated.

— I'll kill you, you son of a bitch! — He grabs the man by the collar, his eyes locked on his, who shows no sign of lying, Ghost feels dizzy. — She's not pregnant, she would have told me!

— Она сказала, что планирует рассказать

— She said she planned to say it.

— Она сказала, что хочет чего-то романтического.

— She said she wanted something romantic.

“Baby, what do you think of this?” You ask sweetly one night, sitting on Simon’s lap, scrolling your finger on the screen of your phone.

“Why something so fancy, baby? We’re already married, aren’t we?” Simon jokes, mentally noting the name of the place.

“I want something special for us, Si.” And then you kiss him, he kisses you back, so sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

— Папы не существует, мама его убьет. — He continues to hum.

— Daddy doesn’t exist, mommy will kill him.

Simon doesn’t think before running to his quarters, the room they’ve shared for years, he searches under the bed, inside the wardrobes, and then drawers. There are sheets of paper with words and more words, and then:

Positive for pregnancy.

— Simon. — Price runs to the room, stopping at the door only to see Simon kneeling, his fingers trembling as he holds the paper. — Did you find out?

— Find out what? — He looks up at his captain.

— The pregnancy. — Price bites his cheeks, guilt burning in his chest.

— How do you know about this?

— W-we found a… — Price interrupts himself, sniffling softly, trying to contain his tears. — Recorder on her cell phone, hidden in the case.

— S-so she didn’t… — Simon doesn’t need to finish, he is interrupted by a loud sniff from Price, who timidly nods. — Fuck.

Traitor.

Traitor.

Traitor.

“I swear, for the rest of my life, to be with you, when you fall and when you get up.” Simon fell even more in love with your smile, at that moment, you dressed in white, your eyes shining, he finally felt alive.

Kyle, Gaz, Price, Soap, his entire family, present at the best moment of his life.

“And I promise to love you even in the fights, the battles and the heartaches.”

Idiot.

Idiot.

Idiot.

— We need to go after her. — And then they both quickly agree, and stumble toward the rest of the task force.

Little did they know that as their bodies ran through the forests, screaming your name, with nothing but flashlights to light their way, you were no longer there, your body carried like feathers by soldiers in black, barely able to breathe, pale and cold.

— It seems we have a victory. — One of them cheers, the same Russian accent you would hear from now on, a new life.

Or the destruction of it.

☆"In joy and in sadness"☆

[criesinliess]

━JANUARY 2024; susan's recs

HARRY POTTER

━━DRACO MALFOY

buy me presents @writingsbychlo

━━MATTHEO RIDDLE

for you @mrsbarnesblog

MARAUDER'S ERA

━━JAMES POTTER

cold as you @pretty-little-mind33

THE MAZE RUNNER

━━THOMAS

daffodils @writingsbychlo

that much was obvious @justauthoring

MARVEL

━━PIETRO MAXIMOFF

sokovian cuddles @mar-gega

the silent treatment @floral-and-fine

━━LOKI LAUFEYSON

terrible liar @fandxmslxt69

ANNE WITH AN E

━━GILBERT BLYTHE

love, lunch and letters @reidandweep

keep your hand inside of mine @harringtown

everything i hold dear resides in those eyes @↑

THE SOCIETY

━━HARRY BINGHAM

my poor little baby @the-girl-who-used-to-write

initiative @collecting-stories

FATE: THE WINX SAGA

━━RIVEN

the only edge @imkylotrash

MIXTE 1963

━━JOSEPH DESCAMPS

a real gentleman @meltinghun

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

━━LUKE CASTELLAN

bleedin' me dry @atlabeth

sly swordsman @krkiiz

take a chance with me @↑

something out of my dreams @celesterayel

call it what you want @sayoneee

lavender roses @breadbrobin

about you @surftrips

fighting chance @supercutszns

a place with you @↑

true colours @↑

the grudge (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you) @kamaluhkhan

i won't say (im in love) @calliopeslyrics

bedtime stories @mischiefmoons

titles @indecisivemuch

THE BEAR

━━CARMY BERZATTO

blueberry bbq; strawberry gazpacho @collecting-stories

i love you @sunflowersteves

ONE PIECE

━━SANJI

tell it to me straight (because i’m going crazy) @justmediocrewriting

little by little @zorobff

STRANGER THINGS

━━STEVE HARRINGTON

marriage pact @fantasylandloser

season one of “come home” — masterlist @stevie-petey

drunken confession @caxde

itty bitty pretty @t-lostinworlds

OUTER BANKS

━━JJ MAYBANK

worth it @pariahsparadise

━━RAFE CAMERON

rafe, scary? pfft! @suncoved

LOCKWOOD & CO

━━ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

till death do us part @websterss

certain @↑

never angry @↑

[satoruxx]

PARACOSM OF THE GODS. (THE CANON AU)

✧ SUMMARY : a collection of oneshots about your life as a part of the 2006 gang. this series follows the canon path of jjk, except with a whole lot more angsty romance involved. while these are all standalone installments, they are semi connected and often refer to each other. additionally, these fics almost always involve satoru and suguru having feelings for reader, and vice versa—but they're all their canon emotionally reserved selves.

✧ INCLUDES : gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love but cannot express it, timeskips, canon typical violence, death, longing, mutual pining, bittersweet, emotionally stunted teenagers, unresolved feelings, banter, literally just very canon !!

INSTALLMENTS :: the steps that led us down this road.

i. PARACOSM OF THE GODS :: YOU THINK YOU WILL ALWAYS FIND COMFORT IN THE SHADOWS OF THE STRONGEST.

the orginal fic. focuses on how your relationship with satoru and suguru changes throughout the years, and how the three of you end up walking different paths. goes through many canon events of jjk and how you deal with each one of them.

ii. SAUDADE :: YOU ARE MORE BITTER THAN SWEET.

in the span of a few years, you've realized that you have changed how you celebrate valentine's day. somehow, the blame always falls on the two of them.

iii. DEAD RECKONING :: MORE TROUBLED THAN I COULD'VE EXPECTED.

(coming soon...!)

EXTRAS :: on another page.

i. ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER :: TILL DEATH DO WE PART?

satoru isn't crazy. he's had time to recognize the events that have unfolded. he stood at your funeral with an impassive look on his face, hands shoved deep into his pockets. he'd put a bouquet at your grave every afternoon since that day. you're dead and he knows it. and yet somehow you're right in front of him, translucent and opaque, and yet so pretty. suddenly he doesn't know what's real anymore, but he doesn't want to question it. not when you've come back to him. not when he's missed you so much. (aka ... how the au would change if you died in high school.)

[izzabela]

Till Death Do Us Part - Lin Kuei x fem!reader (scenario fic)

in which your on-screen death affects each brother differently

a/n: me when i get attached to a character and watch them fucking perish

ship[s]: kuai liang, bi han & tomas x fem!reader

warning(s): post-kanon/non-canon

=====================

Kuai Liang

You open the door to the huge media room in Johnny's home. Courtesy to the big bucks he was making.

Johnny invited everyone that was part of the armageddon fight a couple of years ago to watch the "pre-pre-prerelease" of the latest Mortal Kombat universe installment, and boy was it decently big.

Mileena, Kitana, Tanya, and Khameleon were present. Ermac, well, Jerrod was also here sitting with Liu Kang on their left. Kenshi sat with Raiden, and Jax, while Johnny was with Kung Lao, Ashrah, and Syzoth.

Of course, you, Kuai Liang, Bi Han, and Tomas were present as well. You four sat in the very back of the theater room, conversing amongst yourselves before the movie began.

"Are the pleasantries over?" Bi Han complains. "I cannot believe I took time off for dilly-dallying..."

Comedically, Johnny gets up and begins to welcome everyone to his home and hopes they enjoy the movie.

"And yes, blueberry ice cream," Johnny quips. "Pleasantries are over."

Little chuckles and laughs are scattered around the room, and you turn to see your grandmaster grumble even more.

"I do hope you enjoy this, love," you whisper to Kuai Liang. "Johnny and I worked very hard on this movie."

"And I?" Kuai Liang parrots. Suddenly, you're on screen with huge guns and a kick-ass attitude.

The rooms erupts with claps and cheers, your friends turning around to point out the obvious fact you're in the film. You chuckle as you watch yourself relive the moments of you and Johnny during a solo mission you were sent on.

"Sister, is this the retelling of that mission you and Johnny went on?" Tomas asked, eyes sparkling. You nod, a finger over your lips as you force him to hush and watch the movie.

Kuai Liang kind of thought Johnny wasn't all that great in acting or directing, but this film shut his prejudices about the actor up. Kuai Liang fell in love with yours and his character. Though Cage was not acting in it, it was clear the actor who was portraying him nailed it.

As scenes changed from dry, arid deserts, to the vast greenery of Outworld jungles, the climax of the film came. At this point in the movie, Kuai Liang had grown so attached to your character to the point you could hear him talk to himself.

Little "no, don't do that!" or "smart girl" was heard from his lips. He was enthralled, and it pleased you to see that he was enjoying the fruits of your long, arduous labor.

At the climax, you and Johnny were running away from an abandoned fortress littered with booby traps and enemies. You both exhausted your gunpowder, and your character only had one magazine left.

The problem, though, was that enemies were growing and incoming, and the exit was still a couple of meters away.

"Almost there!" Johnny's actor yells, chest rising and falling as you and him run across the corridor of the fortress. Kuai Liang watches in anticipation as the screen switches to the enemies, who triggered a booby trap of falling pillars.

"Agh!" you cry out, watching as the pillars cam crashing down. "A fucking failsafe mechanism!"

"Language," Kung Lao blurts out, earning a chuckle from everyone in the room.

As the scene plays out, your character falls behind a bit due to a crack in the ground, and you trip cover yourself. A collective gasp is heard around the room, but it only gets louder as everyone watches a pillar fall and crush your leg.

"Oh no!" Kuai Liang breathes. You giggle as you watch him watch your scene.

As the enemies close in on you, Johnny's actor tries to help you up, but to no avail. He's heaving, ho-ing, and doing all he can, but the enemies can be seen just down the hallway.

"Go, Johnny!" you yell, pushing the actor forward. "I'll hold them!"

"No, are you crazy?!" he yells back at you, planting his feet as he tries to lift you by your armpits. "We're getting you home, and that's final!"

You grab the collar of your costar and bring his face close to you, glaring into his soul as you utter out your final command.

"I ain't making it out, Johnny," you wheeze as the realization sets in on Johnny's character. "You're running out of here, and in three ticks, I'm shooting that loose pillar at the weak point the block the exit off."

Johnny's character is wide-eyed, "You don't seriously-"

"You've been a friend, Johnny," your character says proudly, a slight wobble in your smile. "Live for me, will ya?"

You push him with the last of your strength to the door of the hallway. The monsters are in, and you use up ten of your bullets to shoot a couple of the mobs down. You get s couple more shots in, four specifically, meaning you have one more left.

"One Mississippi," you breathe, looking behind you as you take aim at the loose end of the pilar.

"Two Mississippi," you load the bullet in, closing an eye to perfect the aim.

"Please, elder gods no," Kuai Liang whispers.

"Three Mississippi," the shot rings out, and the pillar falls to completely block the exit out of the monster's reach.

As you watch your own death begin to play out, you feel a slight burn as Kuai Liang's hand grips yours. If it was warm earlier, you were experiencing burns at this point. It didn't help that his grip was tight.

You turn to Kuai Liang and realize his eyes were wide in horror. He remembered that the joint mission was rough, he saw you sleeping in the healer's room for weeks.

But the fact this was what could have happened, the fact that maybe something like this actually happened.

It burned him.

Three squeezes on your hand, a nonverbal signal created in case you two were too busy doing something to say it.

Or in rare cases, watching you die on the silver screen.

You lean to his side and whisper loud enough so only he could hear.

"I love you too."

He doesn't say anything for the rest of the film, but the burning sensation goes away, finally.

What doesn't is his hand, and you could live with that for this evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bi Han

"You're going to like this movie, darling," you say giddily, snuggling into Bi Han's bicep as you both cuddled on a couple's bean bag.

"I still do not think his portrayals of our work is accurate," Bi Han grumbles.

Johnny had just finished filming another movie for his cinematic universe, this time based on the Lin Kuei and their epic heist at the old fortress.

As you and Bi Han whispered amongst yourselves, your eyes glaze over all figures present in Johnny's movie room.

The imperial family, Khameleon, and Tanya sat on the plush leather recliner-chairs. Next to Kitana was Raiden, and next to him was Kung Lao and Fujin, Raiden's sister.

Kenshi was also here (his powers allowed him to watch movies? you thought). He was sitting by Jax and Suchin, and next to those two were Takeda, Hanzo, and Tomas.

The two elders were watching the ninja's tickle the young Hanzo, who was riled up in a giggle storm.

And of course, you cannot ignore Kuai Liang and Harumi, who sat on the recliner-chairs as well. They were talking amongst themselves too, pointing to everyone with little smiles on their faces.

Suddenly, and without warning, the lights dimmed and Johnny appeared in front of the screen.

"Thanks for coming guys!" Johnny bows. "Now, let's all sit down and enjoy the show!"

Everyone claps as Johnny makes room on Kenshi's free side, inserting himself in the calm duo.

"Let's see how well he understands our culture," Bi Han mutters as the movie plays.

It took a lot for Bi Han to be impressed. Sometimes, you wonder how the hell you managed to bag such an unimpressable man.

But Bi Han remained silent and slightly (ever so slightly) wide-eyed at the accurate portrayal of his clan and culture. For secrecy reasons, the Lin Kuei could not be named.

But everything from costume, fighting style, culture, even speech, was practically perfected.

Then, there was your character.

Guns strapped to your back, knives in hilts on your thighs, and clothes a little too risqué for battle, you were the side kick for this mission.

"Is that..." but before Bi Han could say anything, everyone is cheering and looking back at you.

You smile and wave your hands in embarrassment and shyness, especially when Kitana compliments you.

"Finally, seems Earth is getting things right about women."

As the movie plays, Bi Han can feel himself getting attached to all these characters, especially yours. Yes, you were literally the character, but the writing, facial expressions, the subtle acting made him like your character even more.

Which was a shame when the climax came.

Of course, since it's Hollywood, things had to be exaggerated. Instead of the movie playing how real life happened, in which you and Bi Han made it out alive and with a couple of scratches, Johnny took the creative approach.

"This place can't exist anymore," your character explains to your costar.

"But we have the scrolls!" he exclaims, papers jumbled in his hands. "No one will know how to create the magic again!"

As you bickered, enemies began to draw near to the sounds of your voices. You both turn and realize the skeleton army draws closer to you two, and the ability to make a choice becomes slimmer and slimmer.

As you both ran towards the main door, the archway collapses last second, and you're unfortunately stuck underneath the jagged rubble.

You cough blood out (fake of course), but it doesn't stop Bi Han from making a strangled noise from the back of his throat.

You watch intently at Bi Han, then the movie. Of course it was fake, but his reactions weren't. The genuine worry on his face, the fact his brows were bent upwards and down, the little frown his mouth makes.

Your acting got him hook, line, and sinker.

"My friend," your character manages weakly, taking out a single explosive and a matching remote.

"You have to get out of here!" your costar exclaims, uselessly digging around the rubble to try and pull you out.

Gently, you stop him and look at the tears that stream from your costar's face.

"My legs are done for... this is all on you, bud," you smile, more blood seeping through your mouth.

One last fist bump, and your costar runs past the door, not looking back once as his tears fall completely off his marred and dirty face.

"You're gold, kid," your character says finally, before detonating the explosive and sealing the palace entrance shut.

You can hear sniffles and muffled sobs from your friends around the room, but they pale in comparison to Bi Han's expression.

The usually scowling, borderline angry-looking man you called yours was shocked. Mouth agape slightly, and his brows were turned upwards completely. You could see that there was a vein in his neck, and looking down more his hands were balled into a fist.

It also didn't help that bits of his powers were seeping through, and the air around you and him grew colder and colder.

"Bi Han?" you tread carefully with your words. Your hand does the same as you gently place it above his, the chill nicking your fingers a bit.

It's worth it, though, as his powers began to subside. In fact, Bi Han himself looked like he was melting into your touch.

He took your hand and placed it on his cheek, practically nuzzling into it and ignoring the movie now.

As the movie finished up, and everyone was back to chatting amongst themselves, Bi Han's cheek remained in your hand.

You don't talk to him, though. You two were stuck in your own world of silence, comfortable silence, as Bi Han practically soaked your touch in like a sponge.

And while sometimes you playfully shoved him off, you knew that right now he needed this more than anything.

You smile softly, engaging in conversation near you as Bi Han continued to hold your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomas

"I have been dying to watch this movie since you told me you were starring in it!" Tomas exclaims as you two follow Johnny upstairs.

Johnny chuckles, "She really did a number on me, Smokey Bear. I was in bedrest for a week!"

You laugh nervously before Tomas kisses you cheek and praises you for Johnny.

"The strongest woman I know after Madam Bo," you giggle and ruffle his hair. "My love."

Johnny opens the door to reveal a set up similar to drive-in movies. The movie would he projected against a white tarp, and everyone was on the ground with blankets, air mattresses, or pillows.

The royal family, plus Tanya, Khameleon, and Jerrod, sat on the biggest air mattress Johnny had.

Kenshi, Jax, and a new friend, Sonya, were next to the imperial family. They were just talking about work, as usual.

The stars of the show were Raiden, Kung Lao, Ashrah and Syzoth. Kung Lao was trying to explain how pillow fights work to the Zaterran, but you're so sure something was lost in translation.

Finally, on blankets to the far back, were Bi Han, Kuai Liang, and Harumi. That's where you and Tomas would be sitting, with the lovely couple and the fifth wheel brother.

"Good evening everyone!" you greet everyone, and they all wave back in equal joy. As you sat with your group, you and Harumi caught up with one another as the men talked to each other about other things.

Your conversation was cut short when Johnny claps for everyone's attention.

"Thank you everyone for coming!" he announces with gusto. "You all should be grateful to know me, my connections are out of this world!"

Kung Lao sighs and rolls his eyes, "Sit down, you're in the way!"

More chuckles erupt from the room, and Johnny grumbles about how Kung Lao isn't funny before he gets the projector running and playing the film.

Inspired from a mission you and Johnny went on, partnering with the OIA as well, you guys were on a mission to find traces and a hint of the Black Dragon. Of course, the mission was a lot smoother and no one died, but Johnny definitely exaggerated it.

As the movie plays, Tomas is immediately drawn in with Johnny's and your character. He loves Johnny as an idol, but your character was something to admire.

Flamboyant, guns blazing, and loud as always, your character was the intelligent femme fatale. Just like you were in real life, all of your qualities were written in perfectly.

As the movie plays, Tomas is very obviously immersed with the way Johnny directed the film. Scenes flowed perfectly, and Tomas was vocalizing his love for the writing every second the film was playing.

From office settings, to fantastical settings of Outworld, to the streets of Japan, the movie plays similar to reality until the climax.

You, Johnny's actor, and the other OIA actors are running away from a hoard of Black Dragon goons. As you guys run away, gun shots ring out behind you as the villains shoot and try their hand at watching your blood spill.

"Johnny! You still got the goods right?" your character double-checks with your costar. He turns behind you as you all continue running, holding rolled up scrolls with a thumbs up.

"No time for this, guys, keep it moving!" the Jax Briggs actor yells, sprinting even faster.

Tomas watches intently, hugging a pillow close to his chest as his eyes are wide and mouth ajar. Tomas is shaking his head, as if he knows what's going to happen.

As your characters keep running, you realize that there are more shots coming from above. Looking up, your character realizes there's a sniper up on a chopper (when you shot this scene, you just ignored how unrealistic it got).

More shots come down, and you realize that he's targeting Johnny. The scrolls were sensitive, and the fact your characters swiped it like candy from a store meant no one was allowed to live after reading its contents.

"Johnny, watch out!" your character screams, jumping over him and taking a shot in your abdomen and right above your breast. Audible gasps are heard around the room, but it's Tomas's reaction that gets you.

He's angry, pissed beyond belief. His brows were down, his fingers digging into the pillow as he watched your character mutter out cringey last words and a dying breath.

Tears. There are also tears in his eyes as he watches your character pass completely. They fell as Johnny's actor and the others run away from your lifeless body. They fell as the actors cried on their own.

They fell as the credits rolled.

As everyone sang their praises for the movie, Tomas stays rather still, arms around the pillow as the angry tears keep falling. You move closer to him, covering his face as you talk to him in a voice only he can hear.

"Tomas? Darling?" you ask him as you wipe his tears. "Let the pillow go, talk to me..."

Obeying, he drops the pillow quickly to replace it with your waist. Soft, warm, you were not the person in the movie- you were alive. If the grip around you was tight already, he somehow made suffocating.

Like a child with his favorite toy, he did not want to let you go at all.

"Got yourself a dog, huh?" Johnny teases, reaching to ruffle his hair. Except he gets rejected with a glare and a dangerously low voice.

"You're never having her again, you scumbag."

You gasp at his rudeness, apologizing on his behalf as Johnny rants to Kenshi about how mean Tomas was being. Even so, Tomas didn't let go. You figured that it had something to so with his past, but pressing wouldn't do him good.

Instead, you wrapped your arms around him as stroked his hair. Soft downward strokes, you also drew circles on his back to get his beathing in order.

Even as people left, he did not let go, and you were okay with that.

=====================

and that's a wrap on all my requests!

please answer this poll as i am gonna be starting more writing projects

thank you all so much! and i'll see yall in the next fic!

[asapeveryday]

NEVER THE BRIDE

Oikawa Toru x Reader

Your best friend is getting married and it’s starting to seem like you’ll never get to have that experience. The grooms best man serves as a reminder…or perhaps a change.

INHALE, EXHALE. You’re starting to feel a normal beat, a comfortable rhythm in your breathing as you coax these two words to yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your tears have mostly dried, your makeup has been touched up, your eyes are only slightly red-rimmed.

Inhale, exhale. You haven’t cried this erratically since your high school boyfriend broke up with you. The idea seems so small and irrelevant now compared to all the adult troubles you’ve experienced so far.

Inhale, exhale. Today is the best day of your best friends life thus far. She is legally entwined with a man she’s in love with, she’s going to spend the rest of her days next to him, working through every obstacle and celebrating every achievement. She’s not just your friend anymore, she’s someone’s wife, and soon enough she’ll be someone’s mother.

Inhale, exhale. You feel your stomach lurch as you exit the washroom and spot him at your table, laughing, joking, celebrating the love his own friend Hajime has found in your best friend. You can feel a billion memories stampede any prior attempts to stay collected.

Being next to the bride just hours earlier at the ceremony was colourful and exciting. Being her maid of honour cemented the depth of your friendship even more, even though you had been fighting this nagging feeling that she was leaving you behind. You could stay positive, all you had to do was avoid his gaze as he stood across from you, beside the groom.

When the vows were being read it became apparent just how much he was staring at you, as if begging, no, challenging you to look at his face.

To have and to hold from this day forward.

He clenched his jaw ever so slightly when your eyes flitted to his.

For better, for worse,

You held his gaze despite the growing, gnawing feeling of yearning inside of you at the memory of watching him outgrow your love.

for richer, for poorer,

He shifted on his feet, undoubtedly remembering the many arguments money once caused you two.

in sickness and in health,

The sight of his pale skin accumulating an embarrassed blush that you often saw when he would catch a cold after training outside for too long flashed through your mind.

to love and to cherish,

He practically winced at these words spoken. His face was tense, uncomfortable, but un breaking under your stare. Had he cherished you?

till death do us part.

Words you had wished you’d been able to utter, staring him in the face like you were then…only under different circumstances.

Snapping back to reality, you shake off the residual sadness as best as you can before returning to your table where your problem resides.

“Having fun?” He says, turning to look at you as you sit down.

“Plenty.” You respond curtly. “I’ve been rooting for my girl and Hajime since day one.”

“So have I.” He responds, though the far-away look in his eyes makes you shiver. He’s analyzing you in this awful way, searching for any hidden feelings. You used to hate it when you were together.

“Quit staring at me, Oikawa.” You mutter, and he’s taken aback for a moment.

“Oikawa?” He says, eyebrows furrowed. “Toru. Please, call me Toru.”

“You stopped being Toru a while ago.” You scoff, turning your head. He doesn’t say anything. Even when the table slowly empties into the dance floor and there’s nobody else to distract from the tension, neither of you say anything at all.

You find yourself looking at the mass of people, couples and friends spinning and dancing, laughing and crying tears of joy. You’ve witnessed the same scene over and over again throughout the past year, and you’ve become more and more ashamed with each wedding you’ve attended. Not too long ago you had thought one of these weddings would be yours.

“Does it still bother you?”

You jerk your head towards the voice. “What?”

“Er, does it still hurt you. The weddings.” Oikawa says quietly. You remember now that he was aware, that you had told him about how left behind you felt. You also remember thinking he might be the one to resolve your problem.

“What do you think?” You finally say, turning your body towards him. “Everyone is settling down and I’m alone. All of those weddings this past year, alone? Yeah, it still hurts.”

“You weren’t alone for all of those weddings.” He says, almost too quickly, though you can tell he regrets it. You can feel anger bubbling inside of you regardless. Oikawa had been your plus one almost every time.

“I might as well have been.” You snap. “Or else I would’ve been tied down by now.”

A beat passes. You’re looking down, playing with the plastic table coverings. You know he’s looking straight at you.

“I’m sorry.” He says, soft and considerate. A tone that once soothed you.

“Don’t be.” You say. “You chose your career and it worked. Plus, we would’ve never made it through that, not with your travelling to all these foreign countries, with foreign women and…” you trail off, feeling embarrassed. He wasn’t able to give you what you wanted: stability. It wasn’t in his schedule. He needed to take risks to ensure his place in the world was set, not as your husband, but as an athlete.

“You’re not the only one who’s hurt by weddings.” Oikawa says. You just look up, hoping he elaborates.

“Me n’ Iwa used to always say we’d have a double wedding.” He chuckles, though it’s slightly hollow. “I remember thinking it wouldn’t work out. He always said I’d probably beat him to it, me being a bit of a ladies man in school and all.” He mumbles the last bit under his breath.

“It’s, uhm. It’s just embarrassing. Looking back at how I just assumed love would come so easily to me. And here I am at his wedding. He found someone he wants to spend the rest of his life with before I even managed to establish my career. He found someone he loves.” He finishes.

“And you?” You ask just above a whisper. Oikawa sucks in a breath before meeting your eyes.

“I did too. But I threw it away.”

You hold your breath as you look at him, face warming and body honing a shell shocked buzz. You hold the brunette boys gaze for what seems like ages before one of the bridesmaids comes to your table.

She tells you and Oikawa that the best friends of the bride and groom should be on the dance floor, pulling you and him with each hand and patting you on the back when you glare at her. You awkwardly walk behind him, weaving between masses of white clothed tables to reach the space in the middle of the venue, it’s packed with people and concentrated with upbeat music.

The party music fades to a more somber tune as you and Oikawa enter the crowd. The bride and groom have already had the first dance, so this dance is obviously meant for any other couples. You watch as children and singles filter out, though many friends stay back for the fun of it. You glance around search for someone else to be with during the song when Oikawa turns around to face you.

His hand is held out to yours in an invitation that makes your heart both swell and ache. You stare at his calloused palms and extended fingers in a moment of contemplation, but when he utters a quiet “please” You finally slip your hand in his.

One hand gingerly finds the small of your waist while the other holds your own. His thumb grazes soothing strokes on the skin of your hand and you can feel him looking at your face with such intensity, likes he’s memorizing your features.

You haven’t been this close to Oikawa in ages, you haven’t been handled so softly in just as long. You forgot about the stray sunspots on his face, about the way his ears grow pink when flustered, about how he takes you in so completely. Dancing with him is reminding you of so many beautiful things you’ve forgotten.

“I want you back.” He says.

“If your best friend wasn’t getting married before you would you have still wanted me back?” You quip.

“Forget about Iwa. I wanted you back the minute it ended.”

You glare at him as the two of you slowly spin through the floor. His expression is serious, eyebrows furrowed and mouth tight-lipped.

“I don’t know if I can take another disappointment.” You say. “Not from you, not from anybody.”

You inhale, you exhale. Surprisingly he does too. Your palm is starting to sweat, though he doesn’t pull away. Your breathing is in sync with his.

“I missed you, Toru.” You sigh. Your voice wavers at the confession, but his eyes sparkle at the use of his given name, at the reciprocation of his feelings.

“I’ve wanted to hear that for so long.” He smiles with relief.

“And I’ve wanted to wear white. And be with someone who’ll be mine for the rest of my life.” You respond, frowning. “I don’t know if you can manage that.”

He thinks for a moment, eyes trained on yours still as if it would kill him to look away. He smells like the apartment you two once shared, like the past and something more new and mature.

“Back then I probably couldn’t.” He admits, a small and ashamed smile pulling at his lips. “But I know I can now.”

Inhale, exhale. The song is ending soon, and you’ll be back to your table. You can say no and never be this close to him again, or you can say yes and fight for a chance to be more than a bridesmaid someday.

“I’ll need time.” You finally decide. “And commitment for real this time.”

The music fades and couples begin to part ways. Toru’s hand leaves your waist but his other stays entwined with yours. “All yours.” He says, and you can feel that he means it.

[godhandler]

Different JJK characters understand ‘love’ differently. 

For Gojo Satoru, love must be terrible, like the memory of choking on food as a kid, or getting trapped by seaweed when you went swimming. Something that breaks through his supernatural divinity and crushes him straight onto the ground. People would not have hesitated using love or loved ones to hurt him all his life. There’s a reason he’s kept himself single, childless, relatively unattached (except for the whole thing with Geto, and you know how that went). Love makes him mortal. Makes him vulnerable. Weak. Every cell of his body resists it and yet he can’t stop craving for it. 

As Geto pointed out, you cannot separate Gojo Satoru (the human) from The Strongest (the divine). Can you genuinely love divinity? Will divinity even love you back? But if you say that you love the human Gojo Satoru, you’re still ignoring or rejecting the divine half of him, so you’re not actually loving him ‘as he is’. If you love someone you can’t fillet him open like a fish and pick and choose whichever parts you love. You have to love him whole. 

Can anyone even have that much love to cover his infinite vastness? Can Gojo be loved wholly? 

On some level, Gojo must himself believe that he is incapable of being truly loved or loving. Infinity on all the time. Just not made for it, he thinks. If simply being understood is an impossible task for him, how could he ask to be loved?

Suppressed appetite, his stomach should ache hungry. Starving. To be loved and cherished and cared for, the way he sees other people are. Sour grapes. Love is terrible. 

He can make do just fine without love, and he does. But goddamn if it doesn’t have him shaking and puking on the floor. 

Unlike him, Geto Suguru is constantly surrounded by love. Not just any love however, Geto begets ‘overwhelming, blinding love’. Loving Geto brings tragedy.

He was loved in his time as a jujutsu sorcerer, and those same people still chose to look the other way and loved him even after the horrific crimes he committed. Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, even Yaga– they loved him and their love kept him alive for an extra decade after his defection. People died because he was loved.  

Until his death he was loved by Gojo and Shoko, so much that they could not part with his corpse. Gojo was sealed, Nanami died, hundreds killed, all because he was loved. 

All his cult followers. The ragtag family he’d collected loved him and risked their lives to help his friends even when he was no longer alive. His daughters (who he taught to kill) died trying to revive him. Because he was loved. 

And even in the afterlife, he went back to a carefree time when he was loved. 

Adored, loved, cherished– could Geto even understand what it is like to not be any of those? How much of the same love does Geto give back? Not necessarily that he was loved more than he gave love back. It’s just that, other than Gojo, he’s always on the heavier end of the scale, the one with more power in the love-balance. Because when it came to it, he chose himself (and his perceived duty to the world) over love. And he continued to do that till the end, and he was still so loved.

As if he’s the hero of the tale, he’s the one with the spotlight on, he was made to be loved. It must feel so natural to fall in love with Geto, so natural for him to receive it. Like poisoned milk when you’re thirsty, it soothes you, fills your heart before taking away a chunk of it. His love is tainted. 

Noritoshi Kamo loves to the point of self-harm. He’s hollow inside– all his motivations to live on are wholly external, to bring his mother into the clan, to honour his position as a clan elder, to protect Maki in the fight against Naoya, to protect his family from the Shinjuku incident. He takes these things as his duties/responsibilities and does them to the best of his ability. 

He takes love to be a duty/responsibility and acts as is proper. He’s the traditional man of the house, the provider and the caretaker for his loved ones. You wouldn’t even realise how easily you’ve relaxed to being taken care of, how you glance at him for his approval before you buy something, how subtly dominant, in a non-sexual way, is his presence. 

Duties/responsibilities are tiring heavy pressures on him to perform, so he performs all through love. He won't complain because he doesn’t expect anything else. He takes what he gets and knows to stay content about it. He acts so perfect that even he doesn’t know where the act ends and he begins. It’s not that he doesn’t want to openly be himself, he just has no idea what that even looks like. 

Perhaps someday he’ll receive a love that will let him relax, be taken care of, be vulnerable, and not perform anymore. I sure hope he does. 

But it’s worrying that the second he has no further duty/responsibility, (eg. when they’re losing to Naoya), he doesn’t hesitate to commit suicide for the sake of others. As if he himself has no reason to keep on living. If he depends that much on his duties/responsibilities to be his reason to live, how much of that intensity would be projected into his love? How very heavy must be the burden of his love?

He has high standards for himself, his love too. It’s up to you if you can match it. 

Something about it would rub you the wrong way. And yet you’ll never leave because you know that despite everything, his love runs deep and solid as iron underground. Perfect on the surface, turbulent underneath but so very true at its core. 

[lilgoblinbitch]

The Archer Finds a Soulmate 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

girl dad!daryl dixon x fem!reader

a/n: this idea was offered by @yummymeee !! was trying to find fluffy daryl prompts and this one stuck with me.

summary: Daryl is a father of a young girl and has always had trouble trusting new people. When he meets you, everything changes.

warnings: none really, typical twd stuff, just some angst and fluff at the end :)

Daryl Dixon was left raising a child in the apocalypse. He didn't expect to find himself taking care of a baby all by himself after the mother of his child ended up hiding it from him, and on her death bed begging Daryl to keep the baby safe. Of course, Daryl would love his baby girl till the day he died. She was the light of his life. She was the only thing left in this cruel world that reminded him of what made life worth living.

Five years after the start of the apocalypse, Daryl was extremely lucky to have been part of a large community that actually showed not only him, but his little girl, charity and companionship. All he wished for was a safe home and chance for his daughter to grow up happy. Because he never got to have a happy childhood himself, it almost felt imperative for him to manifest his own happiness and prosperity by giving his own kid that opportunity.

"Jasmine! Get outta that pile'a crap and c'mere!"

The five-year-old girl lay on her back in mound of dirt and leaves, swishing her arms and legs back and forth. "Daddy, look! I'm making a dirt angel!"

Daryl scoffed as he peered over at his daughter, who was collecting bits of leaves and sticks and dirt in her hair and probably covering every inch of the fabric of her outfit. An outfit that Carol had recently washed, because it originally got stained with orange juice and pudding. Unfortunately little predicaments like that were bound to happen to any little kid. It didn't bother Daryl, he just didn't want to put more of a burden on Carol.

Daryl stood up from the log he was sitting on, setting the dead rabbit he was working on skinning to the side. "Jas! Ya want food or not?" He called out, waving the playful child over to him. She perked her head up at him, her dark curly hair now decorated with bits of colorful leaves and sticks, almost making her hair look like a Christmas tree in some way. The child obeyed and jumped up from the ground, shaking off the dirt that layered her clothing. And of course, they needed to be washed again.

Joining her father by the fire, Jasmine plopped down on the log across from him and simpered at him. He smiled back after examining her youthful grin and spotting the smeared dirt on her face. "Ya got dirt on yer face, silly girl. Here, wipe yer hands and face with this." He handed her a towel, one that was adorned with pink and purple flowers. She loved that little beach towel. She snatched it out of her father's hands and hastily rubbed it all over her face and hands, then tossing it on the ground. Daryl sighed in distress.

"How many more things of yers we gotta ask Carol to wash?"

"We're outside, daddy. There is dirt, and you say dirt makes us dirty. So it's got to make everything else dirty, right?" Her enthusiasm never failed to make him grin and forget what he was even upset at her about.

"A'ight, watch me, ready?" Daryl grabbed the dead rabbit and continued skinning it, making sure Jasmine was watching him. Her face contorted in disgust.

"I don't wanna do that, daddy! It's gross and it hurts the rabbit."

He ignored her complaining and continued skinning it. "It's dead already. Didn't feel any pain, I promise," he reassured the child. "I just needed to show ya how yer dad makes yer all-time favorite food: rabbit stew."

The little girl shook her head. "No, my favorite food is Carol's cookies, and the Kingdom's cobbler!"

Daryl rolled his eyes, finishing up skinning the rabbit and then sticking it on a stick and placing it over the fire. Throughout their meal, Daryl told her about the time he first ever had to eat rabbit, and how he was around her age. His daughter was always absolutely thrilled to hear stories, especially from her father. She admired him more than he realized. And she looked forward to every Thursday afternoon, because that's when Daryl took her out for walks in the woods, pointing out various plants and showing her how to differentiate between animal tracks and walker tracks. Of course, she was too young to fully understand everything he taught her, but it made him more comfortable knowing that she was learning early on.

Some nights Daryl lay awake, tossing and turning only to say "fuck it" and go out in the woods where he could ease his mind, while his daughter was already fast asleep in the room across the hall. He loved being alone in the woods; just him and no one else to disturb him for a few hours.

However, one night he ended up acquiring company from an unexpected individual: you. Daryl didn't know very much about you, besides the fact that you joined Alexandria not too long after he and his group did. You were quiet and reserved, always keeping to yourself and never being found in large crowds because you were always more content when alone. Daryl often found himself following you into the woods to see what you even did out there, but you were just too quick to spy on. And truthfully, you were afraid of Daryl. You had seen how similar he was to you in some ways; his love for nature and serenity and the comfort of being isolated from the loudness of the community you lived in. You observed him going into the woods and not coming back out for hours, just as you did. He ended up becoming a valued member of Alexandria as he helped Aaron recruit new members to the community. He was becoming more outspoken than you, and that seemed to make you nervous.

Tonight, curiosity got the best of you and you decided to go and see what it was that Daryl the archer father did late at night in the woods, all alone.

Daryl did not anticipate anyone to be as good of a tracker as he was, especially in the dark of night. But being the daughter of a hunter father ended up advantaging you with that skill. So when he heard footsteps and prepared to send an arrow flying and landing between the eyes of a walker, but ended up being face to face with you, he was surprised to say the least.

"Hey, um, Daryl right?" Your flashlight beamed onto his face, and he squinted. "Sorry," you turned it off and shoved it in your pocket, "I just, um...I always see you out here, and I'm always out here, so..."

"So what?" Daryl wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially not annoyingly beautiful women such as yourself. You made him nervous.

Daryl kicked the dirt around with his feet, not looking up at you as you continued to speak to him. "Look, I'm not really a people person, and you probably want nothing to do with me because I never talked to you before...but I–" you stopped to look down at the dirt and shuffle your feet in it as well, involuntarily mimicking Daryl. "I dunno, I just need a friend, I think."

You could feel Daryl's eyes on you now, the glow of the small fire illuminating his auburn hair and the specks of hair on his beard. You swallowed hard, becoming a nervous wreck under his hard gaze. "Why me?" Was all he managed to say after studying your face. You finally made eye contact with him after mustering up the courage to do so. He had pretty eyes.

"Because I think we're alike in a lot of ways." You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and leaned against the thick tree beside you. "And honestly, you're one of the only people I know of that has better tracking skills than me," you added, voice soft and unsure. Unsure of what the mysterious man in front of you was thinking. It seemed like he had so much going on in his head all the time, and that's because he did. His thoughts raced, thoughts about you and how pretty you looked under the sparkling fire and why the hell you were talking to a loser single dad like him.

But you didn't see him like that. You were intimidated by him – always have been, except this time he intimidated you in a way you never expected. He made you want to open up to him, because you could tell now that he was just like you. You went your whole life never wanting to be seen by anyone, but Daryl changed that.

Daryl's lack of words left you in your thoughts once again. What if that was his sign for you to scram? What if he hated you? What if he thought you were a fucking creep for sneaking up on him in the middle of the night in the woods? You couldn't handle the fear of rejection so you took matters into your own hands.

Sighing in defeat, you turned on your heal and started for the other direction back to Alexandria, until you were abruptly stopped in your tracks.

"Wait."

Daryl did not wish for you to leave. He believed you. You were like him. "Ya wanna come hunting?"

Your eyes lit up in elation, and you smiled at him. "Yeah, I'd love to."

After a only a few weeks, you and Daryl became friends. He properly introduced you to his daughter Jasmine, who when meeting you for the first time told you, "You're pretty!" It melted your heart. Yours and Daryl's friendship grew drastically from then on. You respected him a lot, as he did you. The two of you were able to teach each other things about nature and hunting that the other had no clue about; you taught Daryl which herbs were best for different things, and he taught you how to shoot with a crossbow. Of course, your bow and arrow and your dagger were just enough for you already, but it pleased you to know that Daryl actually wanted to teach you.

Soon enough it was evident that you and Daryl were growing a deeper connection than the two of you originally anticipated. But somehow you weren't scared of it. You felt content around him, and it was clear that he felt that way about you, too.

"Jasmine!" Daryl called out, frantically searching the woods for his pesky little daughter. The sun was setting over the tree line ahead of him, clouds painted orange and pink. It was going to be dark soon, and he had no idea where his daughter had run off to.

Daryl found his feet moving on their own, eyes shifting around his surroundings while he attempted to track the footsteps of his daughter. "Jas! C'mon let's go!" Suddenly the sound of a twig snapping filled the air. His heartbeat quickened, and his paternal instincts kicked in. He raced toward the sound, crossbow at the ready.

He was just about ready to shoot whatever was hiding behind the tree but when he saw you walking with Jasmine he stopped in his tracks, lowering his weapon. You and Jasmine both glanced up at him simultaneously, and the little girl ran up to her father and hugged him. A sigh of relief overcame him as he bent down to hug her back. You beamed down at the two of them, admiring how touching the sight was.

"Where were ya?" Daryl stood back up, moving his focus between both you and his daughter. You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm, but the fact that his daughter was running off in the woods without him made him feel uneasy and on edge.

"Don't worry, I found her by a stream back there. She told me she wanted to learn how to catch frogs," you reassured him. He grinned and looked down at the girl, who was carrying a red bucket full of croaking amphibians.

"Look how many I caught, daddy!" She lifted the bucket up to Daryl and he peered into it. "Well someone's a professional frog catcher now, ey?" He teased.

The three of you reached the gates and Jasmine hurriedly ran down the street to the other kids outside. You smiled and turned to Daryl, who was already staring at you. You blushed and looked down at your feet.

"Sorry, I should have told you she was with me. She just seemed so excited and I couldn't say no, so–"

"Nah. Don't need to apologize," he interrupted, reaching his hand up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "I, uh, thank you, fer watchin' her."

A gentle breeze drifted through your hair and you brushed stray strands out of your face, all the while Daryl shifted his weight and gathered the pith to express his feelings at that moment. He needed to get it off his chest.

Your doe eyes only impelled him further.

"Uh..." his anxious eyes finally met your passionate ones. "I think Jas might enjoy having ya over fer dinner t'night."

This time you tittered, nodding your head enthusiastically. "If this is your way of wanting more of my company, just say it, Daryl." Your face muscles seriously ached from smiling so hard. "I... I like you. And I would love to come over, honestly, any time."

Daryl's face flushed a shade of pink you'd never seen on him before. It made you giddy. "I like ya too."

That moment felt so cliche – it felt like you and Daryl were part of a silly teenage romcom film. But you two earned that cliche moment. You were surprisingly capable of harvesting a healthy connection with someone who really meant a lot to you.

The magnetic pull between the two of you grew stronger and stronger, reeling your body closer to his. Your hand instinctively brushed against his, making Daryl's insides mushy.

A smirk ran across yours lips and you grabbed Daryl's hand firmly. "C'mon, let's go make some food for tonight."

That evening you cooked venison stew for Daryl and his daughter, by gratitude of the huge buck Daryl scored earlier that morning. Secretly you loved to cook, but you'd only ever cook for someone who was special to you; back in the day you'd always cook for your father after he'd go out hunting and bring back game that gave you an opportunity to create a mouth-watering recipe. Today, that special someone was Daryl. You truly believed he deserved a decent meal from you after everything he'd done for you. He won your trust and respect – even more so your love.

"Thank you."

Daryl was sprawled out on the couch, staring up at you as you had finished cleaning up the dishes. He had already tucked Jasmine into bed up stairs, afterward coming back down to gawk at you.

You wiped your hands on a towel and set it on the counter, turning your attention the the comfortable man on the couch. "No need to thank me. I wanted to cook for you." You joined him on the couch, drowning in the soft cushion and taking in the homey vibe of his living room.

He sat up, turning his body toward you. That expression was painted on his face again – the one that told you he was doubting himself, or that he was trying really hard to articulate his emotions. You took his hands in yours, a decision that caught Daryl by surprise. "You don't need to doubt yourself anymore. I know what you're feeling, trust me."

Your reassurance kindled the spark of courage Daryl so desperately needed. It was as if you were his god, his creator – the one to send him the message from the sky to tell him it was his time to listen to his heart. And so he did.

The archer's rough, calloused fingers traced shapes over the dry skin of your hands. Your gaze melted him like plastic by the fire, and the words your spoke to him spilled from your lips like a prayer.

"Kiss me, Daryl."

Carefully Daryl parted his lips while searching your face for any uncertainties; there were none. And so he kissed you. He kissed you like you were a porcelain doll, suppressing his strength as to not break you. He wanted this kiss to last forever, and so did you.

Daryl trusted his gut that you were the one for him, and boy was that the best decision he ever made right there and then.

[the-enbyrat]

Everyone talks about how Charles and Edwin are the only exception to the whole “till death do us part” concept, but honestly I think it’s the exact opposite.

Death is the only thing that can truly keep them apart. Like literally ALL the odds are against them. They’re existence is so out of place, they’ve spent so long carving out this delicate, obscure little world for themselves, that could literally shatter at any moment. They’re restricted from doing things like possession or sticking around when death collects a soul. They’re constantly afraid, and being together is so unstable and scary and dangerous and yet they do it anyway.

Maybe death won’t do Charles and Edwin apart, but it can keep them in a constant state of risk and instability. Death represents so much in their relationship, it’s simultaneously the thing that united them and allowed them to be together, but it’s also the thing that’s hunting them and keeping them in a forever unsafe situation.

But they choose each other every single time despite all the chaos and inconvenience it causes them.

Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense or wasn’t well written, I’m multitasking rn💀💀

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[firemenenthusiast]

—“till death do us apart”

farleigh start x fem! reader

summary: sometimes even fate can be altered

warnings: angst. read at your own risk. plot twist. grammar of a non native english speaker

a/n: am i in my angst era ? also this is for mon cheri @farleighlover 😋 revenge for writing ‘numbingly obsessed’. this fic idea was like a bazooka shooting into my face i had to write it down

“What if we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine. Nothing could keep us apart. You'd be the one I was meant to find”

the way the sun was shining brightly outside his window, soft amber glare richoceting off the balcony of his apartment told him that the even the universe was looking down upon them, blessing the entire day.-

it was cloudy, the sky hanging puffs of fluffy white, but not the type of cloudy that makes everyone moody, no. it was just nice, he thought, as he adjusted the gleaming links on his cuffs, black ribboned tux sitting perfectly on his broad shoulders. cocking his head slightly to the side, his tight dark brown curls bouncing out of his face making him shudder in anticipation. or was it nerves ? he couldnt really tell, too many staggering emotions filling into his head, fighting each other for a place behind those eyes. taking a last deep breath, he adjusted himself in the mirror before turning towards the door, pair of leather shoes carrying him away.

it’s been five years since your class graduated from oxford, or should you call it your alma mater now. it was probably the greatest day ever, being finally done with excruciatingly painful days of all nighters, pushing through everything else just to chase after submission dates. as much as you’re glad that it’s all over, the collection of memories with people there wrapping you like a fuzzy blanket. the only thing making oxford the best phase of your life is the people there. your friends, your dormmates, your classmates, felix, oliver, farleigh.

and farleigh.

everything was better because you got farleigh. he was always there for you, supporting you, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world that out of all the girls in oxford that he could easily get with, he chose you. and you chose him. i mean, it wouldn’t really be anything between the two of you if you didn’t give him a chance. as much as you liked him before the start of your relationship, you weren’t gonna let him in that easily. just thinking about how much you made him suffer to win you over made you let out a soft chuckle. you’d throw the bouquet of fresh flowers he’d left on your designated seat in class immediately after seeing them and god, was that humiliating for him. one thing farleigh absolutely couldn’t stand was being humiliated, or rejected. but he pushed through, he refused to give up because he liked you so much. he’s willing to fight through everything if it meant that you’d just give him a chance. he suprised himself with how much he was doing just to make you accept him, cuz he swore he would never be down so bad just for a girl. but for you, all that pride and need to maintain his reputation just got thrown out the window.

you and farleigh, it was like the two of you were made for each other, maybe it was your fault for not seeing that sooner but your relationship with him was everything to you after you gave in and give him a chance. it was like red blood, pumping oxygen to every part of your existence, he was like air to you. farleigh made you happy, made you feel all giddy whenever he’d wait outside of your class for you to finish so the two of you could grab lunch together, he was your yellow, your rock. at times you could feel your heart grow even fonder of him, slowly falling head over heels. his bright pearly smile fuelled your entire being, you catch yourself secretly grinning whenever you’d think of him. he was very charming, though sometimes so annoying and bratty. you didn’t care, if anything he was your annoying brat. whenever the two of you would spend the whole day wrapped in each other’s arms, you’d let out the biggest sigh of contentment after getting back to your dorm. farleigh protected you, shielding you from anything that was gonna hurt you, from physical dangers to the emotional ones when you’d struggle with your mental health. he knew everything about you, he knew the tricks and tweaks of winning over your heart. he was your guardian angel.

you’d also noticed how beautiful of a day it was outside, and you were thanking the universe for granting the both of you a chance for this day to be as beautiful as it could be. it was everything you’ve ever dreamed of, and it was exactly like how you’d imagine and daydreamed about it to be since you were a little girl. from the gorgeous white gown draped down your figure to the personally hand arranged bouquet of flower that you were gonna carry down the aisle. it was perfect, and so is the fact that you were gonna marry the love of your life. you couldn’t be more excited, scared and nervous. everyone had told you that it’s normal to be nervous, it’s probably the biggest moment in your life and you couldn’t risk it being even slightly ruined. everything had to be perfect, and they actually were. getting ready in the dressing room, you paced around to get your mind off things that you were overthinking about. what if you stumbled and ripped your gown ? what if you puked in the middle of the walk because you were too nervous ? in that moment you just wanted to tell your bridesmaid to go get your fiancé. you knew he could calm you down easily, he always did. little did you know that he was also taking deep breaths to cool himself down in another room.

the sleek black tux hugging farleigh nicely around his torso and his bust. the sleeves, perfectly tailored and not a single inch longer than it should be. he looked dashing, handsome even. but when is it that he doesn’t? stepping onto the venue, his chin tilted upwards, feasting his eyes upon the beautifully decorated hall. a small smile crept itself across his lips. it was just like how you always told him how you would like the place to look like when you get married. farleigh had always kept a mental note on the details, from the choice of flowers standing tall along the aisle, to the soft hue of innocent yellow dimly lighting up the whole place. you always had a vision when it comes to your wedding day, and he would listen to you talk about it, nodding away and even adding his own points on how he wanted his wedding to be. he had immaculate taste too, of course. chirping in to give you suggestions after suggestions just to make sure the vision of his and your wedding day was perfect. he didn’t really care, the only vivid thing he could imagine was the image of you standing in front of him, looking as pretty as always, smiling up at him as he vowed to take you as his lawfully wedded wife. it was innocent how the two of you would dream about this day.

guests were starting to fill up the venue, settling themselves down on their designated seats as few of them were seen chatting up with each other, smiles decorating their faces. both your families were moving around efficiently, making sure that everything was in order for the ceremony to move smoothly, while you waited in the dressing room, carefully adjusting and making sure that your make up and hair were put together flawlessly. “you nervous?” you heard venetia speak, as you turn your head towards her, smiling. your eyes trailed along the beautifully sewn hem of your gown. “of course i am, i would be lying if i said im not” letting out a soft sigh, your eyes glanced towards her. “how’s farleigh ?” you asked her, before she took both your hands in hers, firmly grabbing onto the palms as she cocked her head to the side, beaming at you. “he’ll be alright” she responded, shortly. “you ready ?” to which you nodded, offering her a quick smile.

the walk from the dressing room to the hall felt like forever, as steps after steps burned memories into your head, everything felt so surreal yet too real at the same time. as you carefully line your walk in the heels with the tail of your gown making it a sport, you began to notice familiar faces sitting at the back row, already beaming at you with their hands cupped against their chests. you offered them a warm smile, desperately using it to hide the all new emotions you were currently feeling. you were now already standing at the end of the aisle, in the middle of everyone, as all eyes were set on you. you tried your best to flash the prettiest smile, like you had practiced for only like since forever. farleigh’s eyes immediately set themselves on you, his eyebrows dropped as his dark orbs began to gloss, a small breath got caught in his throat as it seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe. he was getting lightheaded with how similar you looked with the vision he had of you being his bride. just when he thought you couldn’t get anymore beautiful, you began to walk down with the white veil over your head, fresh flowers neatly grasped in your hands. you looked pure, breathtakingly beautiful in white. it was almost like the angels had lent you their beauty for that exact moment, for you to wear as you slowly step towards the altar.

your eyes met farleigh’s, a knowing look being exchanged between the two of you. you almost laughed at how touched he looked, he would be caught dead first before this to even show that he had deep emotions for someone but for you, he didn’t care. anything for you. all the nervousness suddenly disappeared as you carefully step onto the elevated platform at the end of your slow walk, joining your fiancé before facing each other, huge smile plastered across your faces. all of that ruckus and chaos before your wedding day has led to this moment, as you take it all in that it was finally happening.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the love of these two as they come together in marriage.” the officiant started right as the two of you were ready. after exchanging rings, he started his vows first, which almost made you cry but happiness flooded through the feeling.

“…I promise to cherish you always, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to you in all things until death alone shall part us.” as you finish your vow, you could feel your feet starting to perform little jumps of excitement. turning your head towards the officiant, he could see that you were already getting impatient. smiling to himself, he looked over to the crowd before saying the magic words

“By the power vested in me by the state, I now pronounce you husband and wife !” you almost squeak before leaning over to kiss your now husband, gently pressing your lips over his soft ones, your cold fingers cupping his cheeks as a roar of applause filled the hall. the crowd stood up to cheer, bright smiles complimenting the decorations in the hall.

it was exactly like you imagined, except this time it wasn’t farleigh that you were kissing.

as farleigh clapped for the both of you from his seat, he couldn’t help the proud smile pushing itself to form on his lips, as his eyes begin to water. he immediately reached up to wipe them off quickly, yet obvious tint of red could still be seen if one were to examine his face closely. but he wasn’t worried of that happening, because he wasn’t the main subject of today’s ceremony, no. he was just happy to be here, cheering for you and your husband. he would be lying if he didn’t think about how it would be if it was him instead on the altar, kissing you away from all the doubts that he had put you through over the last few years of your relationship. he knew that you and him, the two of you were supposed to be endgame. it was supposed to be him, slipping the ring onto your finger, before kissing over them. he knew all that, yet nothing could win over a fight with his own issues, nothing could beat his own mind in a game called love. he wanted to give up on love long ago but you showed him the bright end of the tunnel, and he will always be grateful for that. for now, he would have to make peace with the fact that you’re no longer his, and he no longer has a place in your heart. it’s not like he doesn’t want all of this, he really does. hell, he had thought about this exact day countless times when you were his, just that he imagined it to be him who will get to say his vows on how he was gonna love you till death do the both of you apart. everything else was pretty much just how he had imagined it to be, especially how beautiful you looked.

the two of you had promised that the relationship had to end with marriage, and that after graduation nothing was gonna change. but promises are meant to broken aren’t they ? he changed, a lot. you did too. farleigh struggled with himself after graduation, with the fact that he didn’t have anything left in the uk, him being done with oxford left him no reason to keep staying with the cattons. he didn’t want to leave, he begged for sir james to keep letting him stay, saying that he would do anything with the best he had, building a career over the estates in saltburn, anything. anything just for him to able to stay here, with you. he was afraid that if he left, everything will be different and he’d lose you. so he worked, really hard. struggling to make his own money to put them into his own little apartment. little did he know, he lost himself in the process, along with what he had with you. warm embraces and chuckles after laughters turned into hurtful arguments. your usual warm spot on his bed turned cold, as your dent on his mattress slowly disappeared. it’s not like you didn’t fight for him, you truly did. but you realised that what the two of you had, was only nice while it lasted. and you struggled to make peace with that, but not as much as he was. you were everything to him, and losing you just meant losing himself.

when you told him that you were getting married, he looked really happy, as he pulled you in a tight hug. it felt safe, and you could feel that he was genuinely happy for you. you’re glad that after all, you were still able to be close with him, only now as friends. he was happy to receive the wedding invitation, having set it up on his empty kitchen table so he wouldn’t miss it for the world. he still loved you, so much as he wouldn’t want to miss watching you on your happiest day, even if it wasn’t because of him. even if it wasn’t with him. seeing you happy was enough for him. knowing that you were happy, he forced himself to accept that fate couldn’t be rewritten. how he wished it is, because then he would get to write your name in his stars again and again, and again. as many times as he could as long as in the end, you’d end up in his arms.

as the getaway car began to roll its wheels, he looked at you flashing the prettiest smile ever, waving at him. he returned the smile, masking in the reasoned melancholy down his chest. the car started to drive away slowly before his smile slowly pressed itself away against his lips. it has now turned to a smile knowing that he once had you, and he would forever cherish that. the crowd began to dissipate, some gradually walking away to leave, some getting back inside to continue their chats, some even talking about how gorgeous of a wedding it was, and that they were happy for you and your husband. farleigh stepped down the stairs to a gravely ground, his leather shoes digging into the coarse pebbles as he leaned back onto the stone post at the end of the stairs, his hand reaching into the pocket of his slacks. noticing someone approaching his spot, he glanced to the person to see felix, his hands tucked into his pockets before he reached out, asking for a stick from farleigh. he lit the cigarette in his fingers before reaching over, cupping his hand over the flame to lit felix’s.

puffing his first drag, farleigh chuckled at felix at the situation. “how you holding up ?” he heard felix ask, his light brown hair flipping over as the soft wind grazed their skin. farleigh tilted his head down, quietly playing with the pebbles with the tip of his shoes with a burning cigarette dancing between his fingers. “i’m gonna be okay” nodding, he assured felix. “that’s good” he chirped back, he knew how bad farleigh was hurting, but he also knew that his cousin would be caught dead first before showing deep emotions to anyone. felix were also sure that the two of you were really gonna end up together. it was only right to him. he wasn’t sure about what happened, but he could feel how bad the pain was violently ripping farleigh apart. he could only pray that it gets easier, as he didn’t want to lose him too.

“i know you loved her mate” felix started

“i still do” farleigh responded, his head hanging low

“-just differently now”

shaking the burned bits of the cigarette from his fingers, ashes falling down onto the ground as they both sat in silence, quietly enjoying the gentle breeze of the wind, blowing away all of farleigh’s hope for you.

taglist: @farleighlover @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda

[yan-lorkai]

Hi!

Dunno if you know or watched about hazbin hotel but can I ask a Alastor!reader with whoever you want to write?

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I already binge watched hazbin twice lol, so yeah I know Alastor my beloved little guy. I'm writing this for my beautiful ladies and Undertaker btw!

Always smiling, dressed in red and carrying a microphone. You are a peculiar figure in the eyes of many. Wherever you go you leave people with mixed feelings, some afraid, others fascinated, but everyone knows that you are someone not to be messed with. Or else there will be consequences. Your smile may be sweet at first sight but hide a part of sharp teeths.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Integra thinks she should be used to death and blood but she has quite a soft spot hidden deep within her. If you are killing vampires and ghouls she doesn't mind much but killing humans, or worse, Hellsing agents, makes her sad. So very sad. Her humans dying because they didn't know any better and had provoked your ire, do please spare them. Or she'll have to send Alucard to teach you a lesson and even she don't know who could win between you two.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Seras kind of match your energy. She was a police officer once, arresting and even killing when necessary. Even if she had seen her fair share of bodies, of guts spilled from inside out, of blood, she isn't disgusted by it anymore. She is more concerned that you cannibalize your victims sometimes. She knows some serial killers like to claim trophies but you just eat them. She can't really say anything because she drinks blood to live and many would find it just as disgusting.

That said, she loves your gentle persona. When you two are out and about, people seem like to admire you two. At the surface level you're both gentle and calm, and it's cute how you interact.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Thirteen find you so funny. She likes teasing you till your breaking point, where your voice is all distorted and your form begins to waver. She can't help, she like this side of you. And she loves even more to watch you kill, as a reaper is her job collecting souls so she isn't bothered by the blood or the smell of flesh that you eat. Kill for your heart's content, she's just going to stay here to show her support for you. And later she can take you to eat jambalaya.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Undertaker is another one that find you and your mannerisms funny. He was always round you when you were alive and killing people, watching you, wanting to see what you were going to do next. You were funny as hell too. And when you were killed he was the one who collected your soul, in his eyes your soul was so interesting, so precious, but was time to go.

When word got around about a demon killing other demons then he wanted to meet the infamous Radio demon and he is delighted to know you still up to cause chaos around. This time he is going to stay around and watch you closely, you make him laugh very much, after all. And likes you too. You want power, you trap people into deals, you scheme and it's so entertaining watching everything happening, Undertaker even likes to share his thoughts on your plan just to add a little more perspective.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

For Eternity, Chapter 12 of 13 (Alastor x angel!Wife!OC)

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult Chapter Warnings: Alastor's a bit unstable. If you're not interested in smut, you can call this the end, chapter 13 is smut heavy and wraps things up a little neater though.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord. And my friend runs a Hazbin Fic Community

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

“You too, Isabel.” Sera smile was small and sadistic in a way Isabel couldn’t explain as she held her arm out. 

“Maybe we could use some explanation?” Husk seemed to be the voice of reason, “So that the Princess can repeat this success.”

“Yeah, how the fuck did I get redeemed suddenly?” Angel Dust made a show of taking a long drink out of a bottle he snagged from Husk. 

Sera rubbed the space between her two eyebrows as she collected herself. After a few deep breaths, she set off on the story of redemption. 

“You were tested of your character, Isabel of her faith and you have been deemed pure.” 

“Ain’t nothing pure about me,” Angel Dust countered, only to be ignored. 

“You were offered a chance to violate one of the most divine beings in the universe. Resisting gained you nothing and yet, you worked to free her, putting your own life at risk.” 

“I’m going to tell you something, right now,” Angel Dust finished his drink, “If that’s what you’re basing this on- Ol Tall Dark and Murdery over there would have never let me have a moment without more pain than I can imagine if I didn’t. He scares the piss outta me more than Val any day of the week. Self preservation, baby.” 

Isabel knew the lie of that. Angel Dust was horrified from the moment they had met with the task he had been given. That was true before he had known who her husband was. 

“It matters not how you wish to deflect it. Your heart has been judged pure.” 

“Isabel- they decided that you can come home too!” Emily’s eagerness died as emotions warred across Isabel’s face. “Adam’s gone, so he won’t be bothering you anymore. You know what happened to your late husband-” 

“Current.” Alastor’s voice cut through the space. 

“You’re not married,” Sera challenged. “You haven’t been since the day she died. A marriage is until death.”

“Our vows were rather unique,” Alastor’s grip on her waist was growing painful but she welcomed it, letting it ground her as her mind seemed to spin out of control. 

“You don’t have to stay in a realm of violence and death,” Sera ignored Alastor, instead speaking directly to Isabel again. “You do not have to remain with a bloodthirsty murderer.” 

She was tense in his arms. He could feel the way her body trembled under his hands. He could lose her. Because of what he had done, his little hobby, he could lose her again. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They had vowed for eternity. 

“We modified our vows,” Alastor insisted, “We changed ‘till death do us part’ to instead be a promise for all eternity. I have remained faithful, as has she. We are still wed.” 

“You are not.” Sera's smile reminded Isabel of the way Vox smiled at her when he realized he had her caught.

“Why?” Isabel felt like she was spinning, as if the floor was falling out from under her. She didn’t know if she was asking why her marriage was considered void or why she was being called to return to heaven’s gates.

“While you vows may be been spoken for and intended to be for eternity, though you’ve remained faithful- since death you’ve not lain together as man and wife nor have you spoken your vows again. You will return to Heaven today and you will move on.” 

“Wait, now-” Angel Dust was the first to speak up but was quickly cut off by Emily.

“Sera, that’s not exactly-”

“And if those conditions are met?” Alastor’s voice was thick with the filter. Static felt like it was crawling over Isabel’s skin. Shadows danced in a way that reminded her too much of the night prior, when Alastor had let blood fly through the air of the studio hidden in shadows. 

“If she were to accept laying with a man such as you, a man who takes pleasure in the ending of human lives, she would damn her soul.” Emily was quick to speak, wanting to be factual before Sera could do whatever she had planned. “It doesn’t have to be right-” 

“But she hasn’t. She will return with us. They both will. We will be leaving momentarily.”

“And if I don’t want to go?” Angel Dust asked, downing another drink. “And if I want to say fuck you to your offer, come get me next time I die, maybe?” 

“For you, that would be agreeable.” Emily again spoke quickly, feeling the situation spiraling out of her control. “We simply wanted to offer you passage now. You don’t have to risk losing redemption while waiting to die.” 

“Or, I can earn redemption through this stupid ass hotel the way Charlie intends and not from being a pawn in some fucked up God’s game.” Angel Dust slammed down his bottle. 

“You’d be free of Valentino if you left now,” Husk pointed out. 

“Fuck it, I can take Val. I’m not done here.” 

“He can choose to stay but I cannot?” Isabel asked, wrapping her fingers around the strong forearm that had creeped up her front as Alastor gripped her shoulder tightly. 

“Regrettably,” Sera didn’t sound like she regretted it at all, “let’s go.” 

“Is Heaven not merciful enough to allow a hus-” Alastor’s smile twitched as he cut off his title in order to humor the seraphim whom he’d rather be ripping the wings off of, “a man a moment with the woman he loves to say goodbye?”

“Alastor!” Charlie’s outrage was clear on her face, “Wait, we can discuss this, find a solution. Maybe you can be redeemed too?!”

“There will be no discussion.” 

Alastor’s smile simply twitched as the shadows violently came to life, dancing with his power rather than simply deepening as they had been. Inky shadows came off the floor, spilling and plashing up on their feet as Alastor’s shadow itself pulled free from the wall. 

Fright filled Isabel’s eyes as her head whipped around. The seraphim were likewise uncomfortable with the display over power, pulling on their own wells of power to push back shadows that strayed too close. 

Cold black arms wrapped around both Isabel and Alastor. An icy chin rested on her shoulder as it curled in over its master and its love. Fingers as dark as the void hooked her chin and pulled her to look at its face. 

The face of the other Alastor looked back at her. The face of darkness and unhidden emotion that somehow spoke more than Alastor’s schooled face ever did frowned for a moment, sharp mouth pulled down at the corners before it began to smile again. Fingers that shouldn’t have been real caressed her skin as the floor became soft under her feet. A black shadow heart flew up above the black head of the shadow man as its shadows swallowed them.

“Where is he taking her?” Sera demanded, her voice lost to the roaring static in Isabel’s ears.

The shadows pushed them up from again. He held her as she regained her balance, her heels clicking against the cracked tile floors. The room was dark, lit only by the dim red daylight that spilled over the landscape from some unseen or light source. 

Though the windows were large, overlooking the vast city below them. In the far distance, she could see the gleaming tech district that had been her prison for a few days. 

Alastor’s arms fell from around her as she stepped forward, taking in the broadcasting room decorated with deer skulls, rich wood and puddles of the bayou. It smelled like home in every way she couldn’t have been able to explain. It smelled like his workspace and their home mixed together. 

In a way, she guessed that’s exactly what he intended. 

“Where are we?” She turned to face the man she had always considered herself married to, shadows still dancing around him. His shadow twin still loomed, as agitated as the rest of the shadows. 

“The hotel still,” Alastor stalked up to her, looking very much like a predator. Was that how his victims had seen him in their final moments? “My broadcasting tower. I fear those meddlesome angels will not give us much time.” 

“Alastor, I-”

“I have honored your memory. I have honored your love, never once thinking I’d get to hold you again. Yet now you’re here, with me and you know- HA! You know everything now! But they dare come here and disrespect our marriage based on what?” His fingers dug into her arms as he bent down to be at eye level with her. “You must decide now, ma chérie. I need you like I’ve needed nothing in life or death. Do you accept me? Do you want me? Will you have me?” 

“I’ve always loved you,” 

That wasn’t the answer he needed to hear. Love wasn’t enough for those damned demons in angel’s wings. They cared not for their love. They spat on the face of their sacred vows. 

“It’s not enough.” Her lower back hit the hard edge of his workstation as he drove her back. “They don’t care that you love me. They don’t care. As long as they see you as unwed and pure, they’ll take you from me. Is that what you want? Do you want them to take you back? Do you regret finding me?” 

Alastor’s hand wrapped around her neck, grip soft as she looked timidly at the madness behind his eyes. She was sacred. No, that didn’t give enough weight to what she was feeling at that moment. She was terrified, but she didn’t want to run from him. 

“I said our vows again and again over these years,” she whispered. “Alastor? I don’t- I’m scared. You’re scaring me, but I don’t want to go with them.”

His lips crashed against hers, greedy to taste her lips again. They had decades to make up for, but unless he claimed her, they wouldn’t have the chance to make up for so much missed time. Tilting her head with the hand around her throat, he enjoyed the feeling of her gasp race down her trachea under his palm when he bit down on her lip.

Sweet blood filled his mouth as he drank her up. Not a lot, no- he never wanted to cause her any serious harm, but he needed to taste her. A lifetime of wondering what her blood tasted like. He finally had his answer. 

It was the sweetest wine. 

His lips left hers, tongue dragging along her jaw as he clutched her, thumb caressing her waist as he continued to taste her skin. He nipped and sucked at the exposed skin as he reached behind her, undoing one button above her wing. 

“I want to stay with you, Al.” Tears gathered in her eyes as she ran her hands along his shoulders. It took all the focus she had to unbutton his coat and send it off his shoulders. “Please, I don’t want to go.” 

“You’ll let me defile you?” He whispered as his hand left her neck so he could toss his coat absently toward his coatrack. 

It fell in a heap, unnoticed, while his large hands gripped her waist. He pushed her to sit up on the control panel as if it was nothing, setting her between dials and not sparing a thought to what buttons she could be pressing.

“You’ll let me dirty you? Let me rub the very sins of my soul off on you? Stain your soul dark with the darkness in mine?” His words were coming hot and heavy as he gripped her knees, just under the hem of the front of her dress, and pulled them apart while he ran his hand up her legs. 

“Yes,” she whimpered, craving the feeling of him. 

His firm chest under her hands left her wanting more. She pulled at the collar of his shirt, battling with his bow tie. 

“Please, Alastor-” 

He looked up at her as his fingers traced the line of her underwear, another garment he had materialized out of nothing by his raw power for her. Another demonstration of the world he could give her. 

“There will be no going back. No changing your mind. No turning your back on me. No divorce. No leaving me. There will be no heaven. There will only be eternity, with me.”

“Without you, it was never Heaven.”

Tag list in comments

[acourtofkindness]

Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection!

My Beautiful Girls (Cassian x Reader)

by @milswrites Cassian is nervous meeting Readers daughter for the first time

Just A Little Bit of Your Heart (Azriel x Reader)

by @fieldofdaisiies It was just a one night stand, or that is what you thought

Worlds Apart (Azriel x Reader)

by @moonlightazriel The wingleader and loyal servant of Manon Blackbeak is sent to investigate a weird portal in the middle of the Witch Kindgom, things take a twist when the portal teleports her to a unwkown land, without knowing how to go back to her world, she'll have to face a new reality, a well known enemy and her conflictious feelings towards a familiar Shadowsinger.

Fuck Propriety (Helion x Reader)

by @sarawritestories You got your cycle for the first time staying over with your mate. When the High Lord of the Day Court finds you on the floor writhing from the pain, Helion begins to take care of you, whether you want it or not.

Somewhere Only We Know (Azriel x Reader)

by @milswrites Azriel comes to visit you for the first time in a while.

Bloodshed (Eris x Reader)

by @thelov3lybookworm The world is in chaos, and its not the best time to find the other half of your soul when the people you live with would trade anything to kill your mate. But that's exactly what has happened with Y/n, and she has no idea how to save him. But maybe she could negotiate?

Presents (Lucien x Reader)

by @thelov3lybookworm Y/n loves making the new emissary to the night court flustered. The way he blushes, the way he sputters, hell, even the way he breathes is fascinating. But she isn't ready for her heart to decide that flirting is not enough for her.

its always going to be you (Azriel x Reader)

by @berryzxx Azriel and reader are spending less time together than they used to, and elain and Azriel are getting closer. reader is sad but azriel apologises in the end sorry i couldn't find the link

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part (Azriel x Reader)

by @berryzxx azriel has spent so long searching for a mate. he finally finds her. but neither fate nor the mother are on his side again no link, sorry

jealousy (Azriel x Reader)

by @berryzxx azriel and reader are forced to spend time together. they realise they dont hate each other

Quiet Day (Azriel x Reader)

by @thelov3lybookworm It's Y/n's birthday, and she is hoping for a quiet day with her mate. But she should have known that wouldn't be possible, what with her family being the biggest busybodies in the whole of Prythian.