#and then i went to visit him and i guess we had nothing better to do so he was like ‘please just try one episode’

[syndrossi]

Regret AU, Part 6(a)

This is a short-ish one, but only because the next one is gonna be chonky.

x~x~x

Willam had swiftly grown to dislike Castle Grafton. The only tolerable thing about it was the presence of his young cousins, and although Lord Grafton had been forced, via toddler tantrums, to allow him more than a single visit each day, the remaining hours passed in frustrating tedium. He dared not leave its walls during the day, lest disaster strike in his absence, which left him but two options: pacing the confines of the chamber that had been provided to him or drilling alone in the yard.

His letter should have arrived in King’s Landing by now, and only the gods knew when Daemon Targaryen and his dragon would bear down upon Gulltown. Surely no more than another day or two.

“She doesn’t want it slimy,” Raymar said, forehead scrunched in outrage as he stared at the plate of mutton that had been provided for his hatchling.

The meat, which up to now had been cooked, was raw this time, to Lord Grafton’s smug proclamation that according to his maester, hatchlings should be fed uncooked flesh.

“It is better for your dragons, young prince,” Lord Grafton said.

“She hates it!” Raymar said in a voice so severe that even Willam found himself straightening.

Jon, who had been poking the bloody cubes of meat on Shadow’s plate with a finger, picked one up. Willam moved quickly to intercept his hand before it could bring the meat to his lips, casting a glare at Lord Grafton. “Cooked meat did not trouble the hatchlings before. Perhaps it is best that you serve their dragons nothing you would not serve the princes themselves?”

For they will most assuredly sample it themselves.

Raymar meanwhile had grabbed his own dual handfuls of meat and marched over to the hearth. Willam guessed his intent a moment too late, sprinting over just as the toddler plunged his bare hands into the fire. Lord Grafton made a noise like a man stabbed through the gut, and Willam yanked Raymar away from the flames.

But as before, when he went to examine the damage, heart halfway up his throat, Willam found nothing so much as a blister. Seven hells—what manner of sorcery is this?

Raymar meanwhile had fixed him with a look of betrayal. “I’m making it better.”

“You—” Lord Grafton took a breath, then turned to Willam. “Thank the gods you reached him in time.”

Willam stared at him, wondering if the man was being willfully ignorant. I did not.

“I wanna help,” Jon said, taking his own fistful of raw meat.

When Lord Grafton lunged for him, Shadow roused to hissing fury, snapping at the man and sending him backpedaling. Willam stepped into Jon’s path, still holding Raymar, and scooped him up, twirling him around in a desperate bid for distraction that received a giggle in response.

“We must use skewers,” Willam said, and the boys’ new nurse, Fredda, hastened to retrieve some.

“I like petting the fire,” Raymar protested.

Jon gazed up at Willam with soulful grey eyes. “Please?”

“The fire is like your dragons,” Willam said, lacking any other explanation. “It may let you pet it, but it can also burn. It will burn me and Lora and Fredda.”

“Like they burned Ser Berry?” Jon asked, stricken.

“Like Ser Berry.”

Both toddlers burst into tears, their hands grabbing fistfuls of his pants as they begged him not to turn to black dust like Ser Berry. The raw cubes of meat fell to the ground, forgotten in their panic. The hatchlings’ wings fluttered, the little dragons seeming distressed by their riders’ upset.

By the time Fredda returned with the skewers, the children were driven to wails if Willam even approached the hearth. He carefully affixed the cubes of meat to three skewers, then walked slowly with them toward the fire, halting every few steps so that they could see that he was unharmed.

They held the meat to the fire, Jon on his left knee and Raymar on his right, and eventually the boys stopped glancing at him every few seconds as though he might burst into flame. The scent of cooking meat filled the room, and the hatchlings chittered their hungry enthusiasm for the sizzling mutton.

The hatchlings took great delight in tearing chunks of meat from the metal skewers. Willam watched in fascination, wondering if it seemed to them like prying flesh from bone. Once the hatchlings had finished, Willam took his little cousins by the hand, looking between them with a serious expression.

“Will you promise not to pet the flames?” Their answering frowns were almost identical, and Willam sighed. “I am scared that the flames will hurt you. If you pet them—” He broke off. Telling the boys that he would come running might only encourage them to do so. “I will be scared and cry. Promise me?”

The toddlers regarded him with wide eyes. Then Jon stood up on his knees and kissed his cheek. “Don’t be scared, Willam.”

“Do you promise?” he asked.

“I promise,” Jon said, and after a few moments, Raymar did the same.

“That is enough excitement, I think,” Lord Grafton said.

Willam winced. He had almost entirely forgotten about the man’s presence. He stood, carrying each toddler in arm, hatchlings trailing behind him, and deposited them in front of their nurse. “Will you let Fredda clean you up?”

They negotiated a promise from Lord Grafton that Willam would read them a story before their nap, and he was then allowed to follow the lord into the hall, where Grafton turned upon him with narrowed eyes. “Do not expect your influence over them to last. The boys’ father will be here soon enough.”

Lord Grafton’s character had become plain to him within mere hours of knowing the man. It was one of base ambition, fueled by pride and vanity. There were few things that upset him more than being overshadowed, and he was infuriated that the two toddlers he had forced into his care did not view him as their champion and savior.

There was little point in a clever retort, though plenty danced at the tip of his tongue. Grafton’s jealous bluster was a burden easily borne, so long as he did not attempt to further restrict his visits.

“They deserve a father’s love,” Willam said.

Lord Grafton stared at him suspiciously, as though seeking the hidden meaning within his words. “You will remain in your chamber tomorrow until you are summoned.”

“Very well.” Willam kept his face impassive. “Shall I go read to the princes now?”

Grafton scowled, but he could find no objection to raise. The last time the children had been denied his company before naptime, their hatchlings had torn the couch in their chamber to shreds and Willam had been rushed in to calm them.

“Good day, Lord Grafton.”

x~x~x

Just a little calm--okay, relative calm, I know Willam stopped breathing for a second--before the storm...

[oldfashionedmorphine]

Listen. I haven’t watched Ted Lasso. I do not plan on watching Ted Lasso (just not my thing). However last night I was dreaming and who should walk into my dreams but ROY KENT AND JAMIE TARTT. This is YOUR FAULT. I have ABSORBED YOUR BLORBOS THROUGH OSMOSIS

my bad

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

night alarm. l Joel Miller

Summary: the danger has come

Warnings: angst, fluff, hiding pregnancy, Jackson is attacked. guns, shooting, fire, one dead,

A/N:

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The next few days passed with palpable tension. Joel had been assigned to guard one of the entrance gates, and patrols left Jackson much more often. Despite your desire, you knew that no one would let you do anything really important. No watches, no patrols, nothing that would tire you out or require much effort. You didn’t fight with Joel or anyone else.

“You’re already doing the most important work, honey,” he said one evening as he went on watch. “Stay home. I’ll feel better knowing you’re here.”

So you stayed. Sometimes you’d visit him on watch, bringing him warm coffee, but the weather was so bad that Joel never let you stay there longer than that.

When the magic date of your second trimester passed, you both breathed a sigh of relief. “We should tell Ellie. She’ll start guessing soon.” You said, looking at the calendar full of crossed-out days.

“We will. When she finally shows up at home.” Joel responded, putting on his jacket.

It was getting dark outside and snow was slowly falling. Joel finally gathered his things and, getting ready to leave, he gave you one more look. The corner of his mouth lifted. "You know... I knew we'd make it this time, but I'm still very happy."

"Me too." You gently touched your belly, which was barely visible for now, but to you it was the center of the world. "Be careful, Joel."

One last kiss and he was gone.

Something suddenly tore you from your sleep. An indescribable explosion, and then another one. You jumped out of bed and ran to the window. What you saw seemed terrifying to you - the fence visible from your window was burning in one place, the sound of the bell echoed throughout the neighborhood, and people ran out into the street. You didn't wait long.

In the darkness, you ran out into the hallway and into Ellie's room.

"Ellie!"

But when you reached the bed, when you grabbed the blanket, you understood immediately - the bed was empty. Ellie probably didn't come back for the night. You fell asleep waiting for her.

Shit.

The sound of the bell pounded in your ears, and you felt your heart doing the same in your chest. Joel had to be alert, you didn't know what was going on there. Ellie left the house, and you promised not to move from there.

"Fuck!" you hissed, throwing yourself around the room, but finally made a decision.

You ran back to the bedroom and quickly started getting dressed. After you zipped up your pants, you went to the closet and took down the box that was lying on the back of the top shelf. Joel kept his revolver there. You started loading it when you heard the front door slam.

"Ellie?!" you screamed, grabbing the extra bullets and quickly leaving the room. You ran down the stairs. "Ellie! Thank God you're here! Joel said we should stay here and..." You looked around and saw someone standing in the middle of the living room. It wasn't Ellie.

It all started so suddenly that Joel didn't immediately realize what was happening. First the sound of the doorbell tore through the darkness of the night, then he heard an explosion and saw fire. At the same time, shots rang out at the side gate. Adrenaline immediately rushed through his blood. People were running, shouting orders, passing weapons to each other.

“They hit the side wall! A few got through!” Jesse shouted.

“Tell Tommy!” Joel shouted back, and pointed to a few men standing next to him. “Come with me! We could use some backup!”

He didn’t have to say it twice. They got into the car and headed toward the burning fence. It wasn’t until they were in the car that Joel realized something that hit him so hard his heart almost stopped—your house was close to where the attackers had broken through.

The lights of another car behind them flashed in the side mirror. No one knew how many had gotten through, but there was no way to risk it. When they stopped at the fence, Joel tightened his grip on his rifle and got out.

“We need to secure this place!” Tommy shouted as he climbed out of the other car. “Move! Move!”

“Do you think there could be more of them?”

“I have no idea. We should check every house, every closet.” He watched the group of men put out the fire, but a moment later someone ran up to them. An older man who lived nearby was wearing a jacket over his pajamas and holding a baseball bat.

“Seven or ten,” he gasped. “They ran between the houses. People barricaded themselves inside, but you never know.”

Tommy looked at the graying man. “Are you sure?”

"Yeah, I saw them from the window. I have trouble sleeping, and the noise was really loud," he confirmed.

Tommy looked at Joel. "We'll have to look around the area. We need more men. It's still a few hours until dawn." Something in his brother's gaze suddenly made him uneasy. He'd seen something like that in his brother's eyes before. He wanted to say something, but then he heard Jesse.

"Ellie?! What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was at Dina's, we were watching some movies and... What the fuck happened?" she said, "Joel?"

Joel stared at her, speechless. If Ellie was here, that meant you were home alone. He turned, looking in the direction where your house stood, a few streets apart. An icy chill ran down his spine.

"We caught two of them! The third one is dead!" someone called out from the darkness.

Tommy was saying something, but he couldn't hear him anymore. The blood was rushing in his ears and his legs were moving on their own. Then he remembered running down the street where people were coming out, where there was constant traffic. But he had to know, had to know that you were safe, that his fears were unfounded. After all, your house wasn't that close to the fence, the chance that someone would reach you, that they would choose this house.

When Joel ran onto your street, he saw the house in darkness. He almost calmed down. He heard Ellie and Dina screaming, trying to catch up with him. Behind them, one of the cars was approaching him.

He took a deep breath, filling his aching lungs with air, it only took a few seconds, and then, as he took a few steps, he heard a shot. And another one, and another.

He didn't remember how he got to the porch. The door almost fell off its hinges when he hit it with his shoulder, breaking the lock. Silence. The darkness and silence were terrifying.

He shouted your name. He saw an overturned chair, some junk scattered on the floor. He heard a noise in the hallway, and went in that direction. In the light of the car headlights that came through the window, he saw you sitting against the wall, still clutching his revolver in your hand.

"Baby!"

In the blink of an eye, he was by your side, kneeling and taking your face in his hands. You were terrified, but you were alive. It took him a moment to see the body of a man lying nearby.

"I thought it was Ellie..." you said quietly, "He surprised me..."

"Did he do something to you?" Joel asked, brushing your hair away from your face, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head. "He wanted to, but... I had your gun."

"My girl."

Tears welled up in your eyes. Joel hugged you without hesitation, feeling your hands tighten around his jacket. You were safe, you were alive.

Footsteps on the porch signaled that others had arrived at the house as well. Ellie looked like she was on the verge of despair as she fell into your arms.

"You're a fucking badass!" she sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you were alone."

You hugged her tightly. "You're safe, that's the most important thing." You kissed her on the head. Joel's gaze met yours. The question he wanted to ask you was clear in his eyes. "I'm really okay."

"You should go to the clinic. Morris will check if you and the baby..."

"Baby?!" Ellie sat up and looked at Joel as if he had gone crazy. Her gaze shifted to your face. "Are you... Again? Really?!"

"This is not how you should find out, I'm sorry." You sighed, but Ellie didn't let you finish.

"I'll take you to the clinic. Me and Dina."

Joel nodded. "You'll stay there until I come get you." Seeing your look, he quickly added, "You'll wait for me there. We have to make sure we catch them all."

You knew there was no point in arguing with Joel and you didn't even want to. So you let them take you to the clinic, and Ellie and Dina didn't leave your side for a moment. When Morris examined you and did the ultrasound, both girls were absolutely thrilled when they saw the faint shape on the screen.

"A baby..." Ellie whispered, her eyes widening, "How can someone be so fucking small?"

"You know the baby can hear you too?" Morris asked, still staring intently at the screen.

"Shit! Sorry."

“Don’t worry.” He smiled at Ellie before turning to you. “Everything seems fine. The baby’s growing. How are you feeling?”

“Good. I’m a little more sleepy, but I don’t have any nausea or other discomfort.”

“You almost threw up your stomach last time.” Ellie noticed, and Dina nudged her in the side. “What? That’s true!”

Morris turned off the equipment and handed you some tissues to wipe your stomach. “I think you’re fine. Stay here until the situation in the city clears up. Will Joel come get you?” You nodded. “Good. You’ll get a room and you can rest.”

One of the nurses led you to a room. The clinic was quiet, and the dawn was slowly breaking outside. You weren't sure how long it would take to catch everyone who attacked Jackson. But here you were safe, although your heart was still with Joel and the others.

"So, a baby, huh?" Ellie sat down on the bed.

Dina went to look for something warm to drink and eat, and for the first time you were truly alone. You turned to the girl and smiled slightly.

"What do you think, Ellie?" you asked in a quiet voice.

"That's good, right? I mean, it's like a second chance. Are you afraid?"

"So fucking much." you laughed. "But I guess there's no other way. I just hope that this time..."

"This time everything will be fine, you'll see." the girl interrupted you. You could see the concern in her eyes, but also the certainty of what she was saying: “Joel will take care of you, and I… won’t let anything happen to you or that kid.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and your throat tightened painfully. But she noticed, stood up, and came over to hug you.

“You’re going to be fat,” she mumbled, and you giggled. “And Joel will still be crazy about you. You’ll be great parents. You already are.”

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait @mmmunson @grace-928 @umadirectioner

[nosyp]

Like a Deer Caught in Headlights

Warnings = rape/noncon, polyamorous relationship, promiscuous reader, mentions of death, mentions of self harm, starving yourself

Pairing = Dark! LADS men + mc x bratty fem! reader

Summary = You come back to the city where you've left all of your memories. But it's sad to say that the memories wanted to do more than welcome you back.

Word count = 9.4k words

A/N = Can you guess what I used as inspiration for this? *wink*

⚠️Remember pressing "Keep reading" means that you chose to read this on your own discretion, don't attack me.

“She’s back.”

“Y/n’s back.”

“Oh my y/n.”

You surely got the whole town talking huh.

TheArchivist07 Post #001 April 13th. 7:11AM. She’s spotted at the train station, perfume still as usual. Smile still stitched with silk and sin. But don’t be fooled by the innocence in her eyes. We remember. And we saw what she left behind: the boy with bruised knuckles, the girl who never spoke again, the photo that went missing from the dorm wall. Welcome back, sweetheart. Let’s finish the story. XOXO, The Archivist

A fresh new blog for a fresh new girl. Nobody knew who was behind the infamous blog who documented your every move, but if keeping their identity anonymous is what it would cost to get news about you, everyone would take up that offer.

After all, you’re the one who decided to cause havoc and suddenly disappear. Why come back? Here to finish what you’ve started?

Pictures of you at the train station from multiple different angles pretty much spread around the whole city. Speculations started— actually, way before you even came back. People made theories that you were sent to a troubled girls camp, that you were sent to jail for underage drinking or you were finally caught by the mafia.

The story wasn’t like that at all though, or maybe it was? Who knows? Only you do.

Anyways, you disappeared 8 years ago, now everyone is out of high school and at their own jobs.

“Hey MC,” you said into the phone.

“...” you hear nothing from the other side… besides really heavy breathing. Then you hear her swallowing her saliva. “Y/n?”

“Missed me? I bet you did. Can we meet tomorrow at that famous cafe? I’ve been dying to go there and I already booked a reservation so if I don’t see you there… Anyways, see ya!” you say, hanging up the phone.

You [8:49 AM]: Oh and bring your friends too. See you~

“Is she really back?” MC breathed, staring at her phone. She’s pale white at this point, seeming like she'd just seen a ghost.

You still have some time, might as well spend it doing what you did best: create drama.

Later on that night, you’d visit the one club you’ve always loved to go to ever since you were in middle school actually. People used to call it a “whorehouse” since that was where all the hookups were stationed. You still remember it as clear as day. That was also the place where you had your first time— with a random man that you’d just met but it was spectacular nonetheless.

You just had to hope it was the same as you’d remember— or maybe even better.

Arriving at the place, the music at the party was just as loud as usual, practically beating inside your ears, and you can see a cute guy hustling between his friends on the side. He’s wearing a suit and tie with… a ring on his finger. It wasn’t just some sort of friendship ring or nothing, it had a decently sized diamond and you could’ve sworn you saw it at one of the fancy jewelry stores around town. 

So you decided to go up to him and try your luck. “Hey handsome,”

“Hey beautiful,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck. “What are you doing here~?”

“Nothing… just looking for… some fun is all.” you giggle. Then, you whisper into his ears: “Some fun with you maybe?”

“Alright, why don’t we—” you interrupt him with a rough kiss on his lips. Your tongue swirls in his mouth, trying to desperately taste him as he lightly pulls you in closer.

“Y/n?” a guy’s voice calls you out, rapidly pulling you two out of the kiss. 

“I-I’m sorry… who are…” you turn around, to be met with one of your other childhood friends— Caleb.

“Who’s that…?” the older man behind you asks.

“N-nobody… just some guy I know. Give me a second.” you drag Caleb to somewhere more quiet.

You finally let go of your tight grasp around his arm and the first words to come out of your mouth was, “Caleb what the hell?” 

“No— you what the hell? You disappeared for how many—? That’s right, 8 years ago. Now the first impression I have of you is you fucking a much much older guy. Do you even know how old he is?” his voice is scary. He’s practically screaming silently at you.

“I don’t know— I’d guess 40? But why do you care anyway? It’s not like you even cared when I disappeared.” you replied.

“Y/n. This is like your first week in the city— heck— it might even be your first day. So why are you already messing around like this? I thought for 8 years, maybe you’d have gotten better but… maybe you haven’t.” he asks.

The words hit you like a slap. Nobody back in your old city, where you were at for 8 years, dared to even talk back to you, not even try to go against you. So it’s unfortunate for you to cross paths with a guy who wasn’t even a tiny bit scared of you. Yes, you were mean back then too but not mean enough to him to make him shiver in your presence.

“Caleb, you know NOTHING about me so why are you acting like my parents? Me leaving for 8 years made you a good for nothing loser who spends time complaining rather than making something of his life?” you angrily respond.

“What the fuck?” he then angrily storms out of the club. 

TheArchivist07 Post #002 April 13th. 8:00PM. Careful y/n, you can’t be making trouble on your first day back.

—

You’d woken up the next day in a really really sour mood, not just because of that stupid argument with Caleb but also because you didn’t even get a chance to continue your rendezvous with the guy since he disappeared the moment you came back.

Oh! But today was the day you were supposed to meet up with MC and her supposed new friends. 

TheArchivist07 Post #003 April 14th. 7:00AM. Good morning y/n, We hope you have a better second day. Don’t start too much drama today. XOXO, The Archivist

You got up from your bed and immediately started putting on the new outfit you had just bought for yourself. A pleated, short white skirt with a matching white long-sleeved button up which all came together with a baby pink cardigan. For the accessories, you wore some small pieces of jewelry, a headband and a pair of black, mary jane shoes.

You’ve been trying different styles ever since you came back from that old city. It was a rural city that had basically zero to no shopping districts so you’d just had to rely solely on the clothes that you had already— which was much more than what the local kids had.

You had to move there because your dad got an offer to stay there for a few years and take care of one of the newer company facilities. It was honestly pretty futuristic, it’s just a bummer you weren’t really allowed to spend time there. Also, your parents said that it was a good place to “humble” you, that you had to see the reality of some people’s lives. But really, there is no humbling you.

You were a bitch: a bitch that can’t be stopped.

Enough of the backstory, you got inside the luxurious black limousine that you had missed for the longest time and took it to your next location, the cafe.

The cafe is new, and pretty much went viral. So you were excited to have two new experiences in one.

Arriving at the cafe, you could already see a huge line in front of it. People were eagerly waiting for a seat or even a chance to buy something… but all you did was just brush past them and make your way to your seat.

“Hey… y/n is it? Delighted to meet you.” the white haired guy beside you spoke up. His voice was deep, and… kind of teasing if you heard it correctly.

“Hey— yeah… are you one of MC’s friends? If so, nice to meet you too.” you say cheerfully. “By the way, where’s MC?”

“She’s a bit late so we’ll have to wait a while for her and the others,” he answers.

“Right, and I also brought one of my friends.” you say, feeling her presence coming. “This is Selina. She’s not gonna stay so this might be the only time you do talk to her.”

“Right. Good morning, Selina.” he says.

“Good—” she tries to say back.

“Yeah— you can go now. I’ll see you later at 5? At the place?” you interrupt her, rolling your eyes dramatically.

“S-sorry… yeah…” she quietly murmurs, then walks out of the cafe like nothing happened.

“Sorry if she was being annoying, she just likes to do that sometimes. Anyways, what’s your name?” you finally ask the question.

TheArchivist07 Post #004 April 14th. 9:43AM. Watch out, [Your initial] You can’t treat people like your minion… or maybe you can “I’m Sylus. What’s yours?” he answers. “I’m y/n. Nice to get uhh… acquainted with you…” you respond.

After some time, they all started to gather. There was Zayne, Rafayel, Caleb, and MC in exactly that order of where you were looking from (aka across) while you were in between Sylus and Xavier. 

“So… nice to meet you all. I hope we can all get along for the next few… days… weeks… months… or years of my stay here.” you awkwardly say.

“So, what are you getting y/n?” Rafayel asks.

“Uh— nothing really. I just… don’t feel hungry but you guys can order freely. I’m offering.” you reply.

Zayne looks up from the menu. “Have you eaten anything before this?”

You look back at him. “No… not exactly.”

He seems disappointed when he says,”Then it’s not wise for you to skip breakfast. Might do more harm than good.”

“Why should I listen to you?” the words slip out before you can stop them. Shit. You were supposed to be nice. Luckily for you, he isn’t one to be easily offended. But you can definitely see the way MC raises her eyebrows and gives you a confused look.

“I’m a doctor,” he replies.

“Y/n— just eat, please.” MC finally intercepts. “You haven’t changed much these past few years.”

TheArchivist07 Post #005 April 14th. 9:59AM. You’d better watch what you say, y/n Or else you’d might actually end up in a troubled girls camp

“I-I’m sorry…” you murmured quietly. “That your life is so fucking sad that you have to order people around.”

“...” The silence is uncomfortable. Everyone’s just waiting to see what happens rather than making the first move.

Then Zayne exhales softly through his nose before calmly setting down his menu on the table. “You done?” he asks, tone unreadable.

You open your mouth to say something but your dear friend MC cuts in. “Let it go.”

Her voice is soft but firm. That practiced kind of kindness that always feels just hinted… at something else.

“Cuz you’ll deal with it huh?” you say, resting your elbows on the table and leaning closer. “You’ve been saying that…since when? And I haven’t even changed a bit. Give up.”

The fiery-ness was always something MC adored about you. Something about the way you had no respect in the way you talked to her flipped a switch inside her. She had somehow made it her life mission to “tame” you as if a million other people didn’t try.

“Keep talking and see where you end up.” she also starts leaning towards you. “I might not be so nice.”

You can’t lie. Her words sent shivers up your spine, and sent rushes of heat to your cheeks. “F-fuck you.” Then, you leaned back onto the soft cushions. 

TheArchivist07 Post #006 April 14th. 10:03AM. The scoreboard is now 0-1 You lost this round y/n, Better catch up

You couldn’t pick a fight with them, you know why. You know your evol never managed to bloom ever since young, you were much weaker than most. Still grateful you even had an evol though, you felt bad for those poor peasants who weren’t as blessed as you so you never messed with them. 

Without even getting the chance to order, MC just ordered a bunch of food despite not knowing what you wanted. 

Frustration is bubbling to the surface now and you’re so close to blowing up on her but you decide not to. You hadn’t even realised your fingernails had started digging into the flesh of your palm until Xavier asked if you were okay.

Suddenly, MC spoke up. “She’s fine. She’s just salty about this— just like how she is with evol.” 

“Y’know… I think he asked me, not you. So shut up would you? Plus, you’re not even paying for any of this so stop ordering so much.” you spat.

She looked at you, then at the waiter, then back at you. “I am actually paying. Waiter, finish up the order and I’ll pay right now.” she says, taking out her card.

You have a very visibly disgusted facial expression plastered all over your face now and everyone can see it. Unluckily for you, you’re in the public eye so you have to be careful… because the archivist will document everything.

The drama that you didn’t cause made the whole mood sour and none of you bothered to talk even a single syllable. The atmosphere was still tense between you and Caleb, now it’s you and everyone.

It wasn’t until when you all bid farewell that MC talked to you again.

“Hey… I’m sorry for before. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you and I just can’t help but feel… infuriated that you didn’t even change for the better. You said the reason you moved was to improve yourself? So where is it?” she started.

How was she saying nothing and everything at the same time? Every part of you ached to get closer to her, and the other portion begged for you not to even entertain her.

“But that’s what you like about me… You were smiling the whole time it was happening. Don’t lie MC.” you reply, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Maybe it is… dinner at 5 later?” asked MC. 

Dinner at 5? You had already promised to go to a party with Selina at 5, what are you supposed to do now?

TheArchivist07 Post #007 April 14th. 10:47AM. So now the real question was: Who are you choosing? Your dear friend MC or Selina? Take your pick We’ll be waiting y/n

MC's POV

I watch her closely, standing there with her arms crossed with that same guarded look she always used to have. But her eyes. God, those eyes still have that spark. The spark that makes you wanna pin her down and teach her a lesson until she’s begging for you to stop. It's like nothing has changed but at the same time everything has.

She’s older, smarter, cooler. It feels like she just left me behind to pick up the pieces.

I couldn’t stand it. Every part of me wants to break through the walls she’s put up to guard herself. I can’t describe how much I want to yell at her, to tell her how messed up this whole situation is. How much it hurt when she left, how much it still hurts now. But I can't. I just stand there, waiting for her to talk.

I wanted to believe she’d changed oh so desperately. That she’d grown into someone better. But now, seeing her here again, it feels like everything is the same. She’s still her. The same girl who knows exactly how to twist the knife at the right angle to make me hurt people. But she’s also the girl I’ve always loved, the light of my life.

“Dinner at five?” I ask before I even think. It’s stupid. I don’t know why I said it. Maybe because I’m clingy. Maybe because I’m scared what will happen to her if I’m not there. Maybe I’m just trying to hold on to anything I can. But all I know is, she’s never getting away ever again.

“N-no! I-I’m very sorry for today but I already had plans with Selina.” she says.

Selina? Who the hell is she? What kind of importance does she have for you to reject my offer like this?

Questions ran through my head at the speed of a million miles per second, and yet the name still rang in my head. Who the fuck is Selina?

But nonetheless, I calm myself down and reply calmly with: “Oh okay, see you next time then.”

And we bid farewell. Curse you Selina.

TheArchivist07 Post #008 April 14th. 10:50AM. Well Selina’s got [MC Initial] fired up

Back to your POV

TheArchivist07 Post #009 April 14th. 6:13PM. Wake up sweet y/n You’re late for your plans with Selina

Holy fuck. It’s over an hour past the time you agreed to meet with Selina. Shit shit shitttt… Why didn’t your maid, Dorothy, remind you? You already told her to remind you so many times but why didn’t she?

You hurriedly put on your dress and ran into the car that had been waiting for you. Why didn’t anybody wake you up? Oh— wait— Dorothy stayed back in that small town, city, whatever you called it. 

Maybe it was your fault on your end, but at the same time it wasn’t, you just haven’t gotten used to not having assistance 24/7. 

Selina doesn’t even look up when you enter, her fingers scrolling through her phone with the occasional faint click of her nails against the screen. The lobby is empty, everyone’s already up at the venue you’d figure.

“You’re late,” she says, her voice flat, absent of any surprise. She doesn’t even bother to look at you yet.

You stop in your tracks, narrowing your eyes. “I’m late? You’re lucky that I even bothered to show up at all after your little stunt yesterday.”

Finally, she looks up at you with a blank, unreadable stare. “You’ve always had a… habit of overestimating your position, haven’t you? You can’t just trample over everyone and expect nothing to happen y’know.”

The words sting more than they should, but you don’t let it show. Not in front of her.

You sit down, placing your bag on the table, still seething. “I don’t have time for your games today, Selina. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

She shrugs before resting her hands on her side with her hands, finally giving you her full attention. “If you’re going to want to keep your ‘queen bee’ title here, then I’ll let you. But don’t expect me to fall for it again. You don’t have the luxury of making mistakes anymore.”

Her gaze is cold, cutting through you like she’s already decided what your worth is. And you hate that she’s right. Because the truth is, you did make a mistake. You did let her get the bullet this time.

“Careful,” you warn her. “You’re getting way too close to the edge of the cliff.”

Selina doesn’t flinch. Instead, she relaxes her back and a subtle smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “You always did like pretending you’re the one in control. But deep down, we both know it’s always been me.”

You hold her gaze, resisting the urge to snap. She wants a reaction. She wants you to crumble. But not today. Not now.

“Well,” you say, your voice smooth, threatening too. “If you want to keep this little game going, I suggest you remember one thing. I made you. And I can unmake you just as easily.”

You can hear her swallow the lump in her throat as she retreats back to being your silly little minion. 

“By the way, before trying to put me down, you probably shouldn’t be using an out-of-season dress. It doesn’t even look good on you. I’d suggest you take it off but really… no dress looks good on you.” you mention because how did you look better when you only had 10 seconds to change out of your pyjamas?

She looks unimpressed, and used to it. “And your hair looks like a mess. I’d rather you wear a cheap wig off of the street rather than the bundle of whatever is going on with the top of your head.”

“Yet it looks better than yours. You only talk when spoken to.” you firmly state, sending shivers up her spine.

“R-right… sorry. What could I ever do to make it up to you?” she asks you. An idea pops up in your head.

—

You drop the keys into Selina’s hand, giving her time to mentally prepare to do what you told her to. What did you tell her to do? 

It’s nothing serious… only a few years in jail if she doesn’t mess up too much, no? 

She twists the key, opening the door to the… art museum. It was a pretty famous exhibit of artworks made by the one and only, charming prince Rafayel. You did your research. 

When nobody was looking, you took the liberty of “borrowing” Rafayel’s keys. The one you got was to the art museum and you left the house key with him, can’t play with him too much yet. You also knew that it took exactly 7 seconds for the alarm to start ringing as soon as it detected an intruder… or she could just be caught by Thomas. It was one or the other; only fate can decide it.

Once you saw that she was out of your sight, you fled the scene and started walking in the direction of where you came from. 

“Y/n?” someone calls out your name.

Fuck.

“Yes?” you twist around to see who it is. It’s Rafayel, one of MC’s friends. You didn’t really remember him at all because you were way too busy with MC.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, confused.

“Nothing… just… I got lost. The city is so big y’know.” you mention, giving him the most innocent eyes in the world. “Actually, can you help me home? I’m scared to go by myself.”

“U-uh… sure I can,” he agrees.

The walk home was way too awkward for your liking, most of the time it was you two bathing in the silence but then there were the occasional small talk starter questions: “Soo… how was your day today?” or “What do you think of the city so far?”

Anyways, you were successful. You managed to distract him from the fact that his museum’s alarm is going crazy right now and the police have started to arrive. You know because there is a really odd amount of spam calls coming into your phone the whole time you spent with him.

“Don’t you need to go get that…?” he finally asks.

“Hm? What are you talking about?” you play dumb.

He looks at you confused, isn’t your phone the ones that have been buzzing and ringing the whole time? He replies with,”Y’know… your calls or messages? It seems urgent.”

Suddenly, you had a feeling. You were bored; you had time. God forbid a girl has hobbies. “Nothing’s more urgent than you…” you say, hands snaking up his chest to his shoulders.

“W-what? Y/n, are you okay? Do I need to call Dr Zayne?” he asks.

“Ughhh… that guy… I would much prefer it if you were the one giving me the checkup tonight.” you whine, starting to close the distance between you two. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you waited for him to reciprocate.

“Y/n, are you okay?” he asks again, still not returning your embrace.

You look up at him. “Yeah, I feel great— as I usually do.”

No words come out of his mouth for a while, then his lips crash onto yours. His lips were urgent against yours, like he’d been holding back for far too long. His hands finally settled on your waist, reluctant at first, but getting less and less slowly.

The kiss was desperate, both of you pulling each other in as if the other would disappear if you even loosened your grip a bit. Neither of you knew what the hell you were doing, but still chasing it anyway.

It tasted like heat and adrenaline and guilt. The flashing red and blue of police sirens barely visible in the far-off skyline, the chaotic ringing from your phone echoing through the hallway of your apartment… none of it mattered in that moment.

It was just you… and him… and the secret between your teeth.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless.

“Wow,” Rafayel mutters, almost to himself. “I… I didn’t think you actually…”

“You think too much,” you whisper, brushing your lips against the edge of his jaw. “That’s your problem.”

But inside, you’re already calculating.

Because while he’s melting in your hands, you know what he doesn’t. Because that museum of his?

It’s either been wiped empty by Selina, or completely infiltrated by cops.

And the real show hasn’t even started yet.

TheArchivist07 Post #010 April 14th. 7.02PM. R clearly doesn’t know who he’s dealing with

Seeing how the phone calls stopped, you’d figure it’s probably best to go back home rather than deal with the mess. 

—

You close the door behind you with a soft click, kicking off your heels. The silence in your apartment is almost too loud. There’s no music, people talking or fights. It’s just the soft hum of the air conditioning and your own heart still racing from… everything.

Your lips are still tingling from the kiss. Rafayel’s kiss. You never caught feelings for a guy, so why do you feel like this?

You don’t know if it was a mistake, a game, or just another distraction for you. You don't even care right now. You toss your phone onto the couch, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then, your phone lights up with a soft ding.

MC [8.08PM]: Can we talk?

Your stomach turns. You stare at the message. It’s short. Too short. It’s either the start of something serious… or the end of something worse.

MC [8.30PM]: I’m not mad. I just need to understand. Please.

Your fingers hover over the screen, debating. Should you respond now? Or do you leave her waiting?

You sigh, head falling back against the couch. You’re tired. You’re wired. And now… MC wants to talk? Perfect.

Without even responding or replying or leaving her on read, you just go to bed, totally ignorant. 

—

The morning sun slices through your blackout curtains like it has a personal vendetta against you.

Your head’s pounding. Your throat’s dry. Your eyelids feel heavy.

You groan, dragging yourself off the couch. The glass of water you meant to get? Untouched. The unread texts? Still there. The questions clawing at your brain? Louder than ever.

Ding dong.

What the hell?

You blink at the door, not fully processing it. Another ring. More impatient this time. You shuffle over, still half-asleep, and pull it open with zero grace.

And there your dear friend MC is standing in front of your door, looking… annoyed. Like she hasn’t slept either or something happened.

You stare at each other in silence for what feels like an entire lifetime. 

She’s the first to speak. “I figured you wouldn’t answer if I tried to text you again.”

You rub your eyes, trying to make sense of reality. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Not until I saw you.” she replies.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Not yet.

“I just need to know,” she says, voice much quieter now. “Do you even want to stay friends with me?”

You’re clearly shocked by the question by how you flinch back, and start thinking for a second. Do you even want her as a friend? Or just some puppet that you can summon wherever and whenever you need her to?

Nevertheless, you just say the most satisfying answer that comes to mind. “Yeah… I do. What is this about? What happened?”

“I heard you and Rafayel kissed last night… and you can’t even bother to talk to me. I’m not here to argue, I just wanted to ask why you don’t even want to talk to me.” she plops down on your couch.

“I’m sorry, okay, I didn’t mean to kiss him. Do you ahem—… like him…?” you inquire.

Quite different actually, she likes you. There’s just some things that we keep hidden to ourselves that you don’t need to know.

“No. Just wondering why you’re avoiding me— like I said.” she answers.

“Well, since you’re complaining about all this… would you like to come to a party with me next week?” you immediately regret it. But it’s her answer that shocks you even more honestly.

“Actually… Why don’t you take Zayne?” MC proposed. “He’s been tense, so he really needs to loosen up.”

You roll your eyes for what feels like the umpteenth time and reply annoyingly, “Why don’t you wanna go? I mean he’s a good for nothing los—”

Then, she puts her hand on top of yours and squeezes tightly. Being the touch-starved you, you didn’t shove her hand away.

And, that’s how you end up bringing Zayne as your plus one for the masquerade. You had no idea how you were so easily bamboozled by MC but at the same time, she’s got you wrapped around her finger so easily that it would be weird if you didn’t take her advice.

With the assistance of Selina, you ensured that both you and Zayne were dressed perfectly for the event. You had also briefed him on what is supposed to happen in a masquerade and what he’s supposed to do. Although he said he gets it, you still feel anxious about it. I mean, what could you expect from a loser who hangs near sick patients all day— how do you know he’s not sick?

“Zayne, you don’t get it— you have to look perfect or else you’ll ruin both of our reputations in one go.” you explain to him to which he only replies with a soft hum.

“Sure… sure.” and that’s it. He didn’t even bother to look into your eyes.

You couldn’t ever express how frustrated you were but as long as it ended fine, you did great.

You were on your way home from picking up both of your outfits, then you saw a particularly familiar white-haired boy. You didn’t slow down, didn’t stop either— actually, he was the one who stepped into your path like the sidewalk was his personal runway.

“Hey,” he said, like he wasn’t the exact kind of person you didn’t want to deal with right now.

You should’ve ignored him. Should’ve rolled your eyes, kept walking.

Instead, you smiled sweetly and scanned his outfit. It wasn’t particular interesting aside from the fact that he looked like a mess— a mess you didn’t want to deal with.

“You look gross,” you said, tilting your head. “Fresh out the dump?”

He laughed at your words—because of course he did. He wasn’t the type to get offended. He was the type to enjoy it.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you missed me?” he asked, eyes flicking down to the bags in your hands. “New outfits? You buying stuff to impress me?”

You scoffed. “You think anyone would shop with you in mind?”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he said, stepping a little closer, too close. “Besides… I think it’s cute. You pretending not to like me and all.”

You leaned in just slightly and got closer to his ear. “I’m not pretending.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, smile sharpening. “We’ll see.”

And the worst part? The absolute worst part is that you let him walk beside you for the next block.

He wasn’t super annoying but annoying enough to make you have to sigh ten times in a second.

“Shouldn’t you be going now? Maybe getting a life— oh wait! You don’t have one.” you finally say.

He looks amused, he was expecting that from you. “As usual, you have no filter.”

“Ugh whatever, just get far away from me.” you say, giving him a disgusted look.

He chuckles lightly. “Okay okay, see you around y/n.” he says, waving goodbye at you as he walks away.

You don’t wave back. “Finally that bitch is gone” you murmur to yourself, picking the bags back up to start walking again. Selina’s already on the venue’s decoration duty so you had to take care of yourself this time. Oh how it sucks to be independent.

—

The limousine had stopped in front of the grand venue, only the low hum of its engine mixing with the chatter outside. People were flocked outside the door, waiting for you to come out to pounce at you with questions.

“Are you ready?” Zayne extends his hand out to you and you take it, going out of the limousine.

Flashes of cameras flood your vision, but Zayne’s there to guide your way. He swore he was so close to using his evol to cataclysm everyone on site from the way he was death staring everyone.

One part of the crowd was cheering stuff like:

“AAHHH Y/N L/N LOOK HERE!!” 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S YOU!!”“YOU LOOK FANTASTIC!”

“WHO’S THE HANDSOME GUY?!?!”

“I’M A BIG FAN!! PLEASE AUTOGRAPH”

While the other part of the crowd could be like:

“Y/n, do you mind answering a few questions about politics?”“What is your opinion on the archivist?”

“Why did you disappear for so long?”

“What happened when you disappeared?”

“What are your plans for the future?”

TheArchivist07 Post #011 April 22nd. 7:35PM. Y/n’s got the crowd excited After all, what do you expect from a queen bee's return?

They’re all similarly just looking for their turn to get their biggest scoop on you, but you don’t allow it. They have to earn it, and it’s not by shoving a camera into your face when you’re vulnerable.

Making your way into the safety of the venue, you put on the mask and started greeting everyone… with Zayne on the side just following around but did occasionally greet them too.

“Ooh, who is this handsome guy?” a woman teases. “Mind if I have a turn with him?”

Her tone is clearly joking, and you can tell she’s an older woman just looking for some fun so you don’t take offense.

“For all I care, go ahead.” you reply… jokingly? But you can’t help but feel conflicted about your relationship with him. You really thought you had no feelings for him, but something formed during the time you spent together preparing. 

Like that time you asked him to zip up your dress when you brought him dress shopping. And when you almost tripped, he caught you right on time. You don’t know if it was just admiration or romantic feelings but you definitely had something for him, even if it was platonic.

Sad that he doesn’t think the same way.

At the same time, no matter how hard you tried to forget, he was still there— buried in the corners of your mind, the boy you had loved for what felt like forever… right up until the moment he vanished. Why did he have to leave? Why you? Did he ever stop to think about what that did to you? Did he ever feel an ounce of regret?

But deep down, the truth gnawed at you. It was your fault. You were the one who ruined it. You were reckless. You were selfish. You were stupid.

And the worst of all? You’d do anything just to feel close to him one last time.

You spent years trying to deny it even happened. Sometimes people even felt scared that you were “talking to yourself” but you were really speaking to the ghosts of him. 

Then, after some time, it shifted to forgetting it ever happened. It worked for a while before it started to come up again; everything reminded you of him. Everytime you’d see a guy with even one simple feature that looked like him, it felt like your whole world shattered when you saw them turn around and it wasn’t him.

Then, it changed to hurting yourself in the forms of starvation, wounding yourself, and even sleep depriving yourself. Nothing ever made you feel better. You felt like you deserved nothing while he deserved everything, you just couldn’t give it to him.

Finally, your parents sent you to therapy. Out of all the methods, it probably worked the best. They were glad when they saw you improving and just kept sending you there. Your last session was 1 hour before the flight back to the city, and you’ve never bothered to find another.

Enough of the sad, boring stuff, parties are for fun. You’re supposed to be all hyped and jumping up and down, excited for the activities. You can’t sour the mood.

Zayne— being the boring man that he is— just stayed on the outskirts of the party, alone. So you took responsibility and tried to bring him to the dance floor. But it ended up with you staying with him with the bartender.

“One neat whiskey for you sir, and anything for you ma’am?” the guy behind the counter asks.

“W-what… you bought a drink? Didn’t think you were the type to even drink.” you say. “Anyways, I’ll just take water, thanks.”

“Just that?” He raises an eyebrow. “She’ll take a whiskey too then.”

You suddenly feel your heart stopping. He was super insistent to getting you a drink. “Why’d you do that?”

“You need to relieve yourself. You look stressed.” he says.

“Ugh whatever. I can do that by doing something else.” you complain, leaning on the counter.

“Then, go do it.” he responds.

He’s so boring and stoic and dull. You were hoping you could change him but he wouldn’t even comply with one of your requests, it was probably you complying with his actually.

Once the drinks arrived, you felt your heart skip a beat again. You didn’t want to drink so early into the party; You didn’t even want to drink again.

Something about drinking in front of him seemed so terrifying, like there was a gut instinct telling you not to. 

“Y/NNNNN! DRINKKK!!!!! TAKE THE SHOTT!!!” a person shouts from the crowd, and everyone turns their head towards you. 

In less than a blink of an eye, everyone’s attention was on you now. It’s not like you weren’t used to it though.

“Ugh… sorry guys, I can’t… I really really shouldn’t…” you sigh, earning a disappointed whine from the crowd.

“Oh come on y/n, just drink a bit. If anything happens, I’ll be here.” Zayne says.

You haven’t drunk around people for a long time, terrified that it would happen again. That you would lose another if you lost yourself around someone else. It was the whole reason that you never dared to get too close to someone ever again: the world practically ended when it happened to you.

“Drink y/n!” the people all cheered in unison. 

“Zayne please don’t make me do this, tell everyone to stop.” you beg him.

“Silly girl, just listen to everyone. It’ll work out just fine, trust me.” is what he replies with.

Reluctantly and apprehensively, with Zayne’s approval, you take the shot, chugging it all down in one gulp. You forgot how strong the burning feeling that followed was. After all, it had been a long time since you’ve taken shots.

For the rest of the time you spent at the party, you limited yourself to only 5 shots but you ended up drinking around… fifteen? You couldn’t remember, but Zayne was barely affected after ten of them. 

Once you decided you wanted to go home, you told Zayne and he agreed. Then, you two went out of the party to see…

“Zayne, give me your phone.” you demand of him.

“Why exa—” he stops mid sentence as soon as he sees you take the phone out of his pocket.

With a quick flash of his camera, you take a photo of the scene before you. For some odd reason, you just felt really awakened once you realised what was happening.

“Hey— what the hell!” the guy screams… then his eyes widen when he realises it's you. “W-wait… nonono, what did you just do?”

“Took a photo of you— since I’m just… ugh… such a big fan and all… I bet your girlfriend would be a big fan of this too.” you say, holding up the photo of him kissing another girl. 

“Wait.” he tries to grab your wrist before Zayne intercepts. He places himself in between you two like a barrier. 

“Z, don’t.” your tone is firm. You can do it yourself, you don’t need a stupid man to take care of you and he knows that. He silently sends the guy a death glare and then moves out of your way.

“How much?” he asks.

“Oh—! Finally you’re asking the good questions. I knew that brain of yours was more than just for sex.” you smile at him cheekily. “10k maybe?”

“Done.” said the guy, the girl pretty much long gone from the scene. 

Scanning his face, you see he’s glad. The price you set was probably pocket change for him so you did what any other sane person would do. “Actually… let’s bump it up… 100k?”

“O-one hundred k? That’s a bit of a stretch isn’t it?” he asks in a shocked tone.

It’s getting good now.

“No— not at all actually… but maybe you think your girlfriend isn’t worth 100k… Might as well tell her if you don’t value her enough to not hurt her feelings.” you reply.

“F-fuck! Fine… 100k. No more, no less.” he admits defeat.

“That’s more like it. I better get that transfer by 8 PM today or else… you know. Ta-ta~!” you bid him goodbye.

Hooking your arm around Zayne’s, you walk away with him. 

“Weren’t you a bit too rough with him, my love?” he asks.

Honestly, mentioning it now, you do kind of felt like you were a bit too hard on him. But, cheating on someone isn’t exactly a good thing either. “I-I don’t know…”

“...” he says nothing.

“Be honest, do you think I’m a whore?” you suddenly start interrogating him.

TheArchivist07 Post #012 April 22nd. 11:27PM. As the saying says, “Don’t bite off more than you can chew”, y/n

He thinks for a second, looking up at the sky as if it had the answer. “Hmm, do you sleep around a lot?” asked Zayne.

You think for a second, knowing you couldn’t say no to the question. Despite trying to stop it, you never really stopped. “M-maybe…”

“Then there’s your answer.” he states firmly, with his usual stoic calmness.

Without even realising what happened, tears just started welling up in your eyes— droplets sliding down your cheek and onto the hard, concrete pavement. 

Zayne seems visibly shocked as soon as he sees you crying. He didn’t say anything for a while, just rubbing the tears off with his thumb. To him, you looked beautiful crying— but not for this. He’d much prefer for you to be crying from pleasure rather than actual sadness.

“Z-zayne… everything hurts…” you manage to mumble in between sobs. “E-everything feels so— so— so hot… please make it stop…”

‘Did the drink I gave really work this fast?’ was what went through his mind, but you don’t know that. You never will. Using his hand, he feels your forehead for a fever. “No fever, you don’t feel hot from the outside at all.”

But on your end, you felt hot— flaming hot. You didn’t know what was happening; everything just hurt really bad. It was as if someone was burning you from the inside with a torch. 

“Can you walk?” he questions. 

“Y-yeah…” your head is spinning in circles now; there was a high-pitched ringing sound in your ear that wouldn’t stop either. 

In a panic, he slips an arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back before picking you up bridal style

“W-what are you doing…?” you breathe out, a bit startled but too much in a haze to care.

“Bringing you home,” he replies, voice low. He’s resolute, he thinks this is the only way.

—

The first thing he did as soon as you two arrived at his place was to put you down onto his bed… and get on top of you.

“Z-zayne… what are you doing?” you try to push him away, but he quickly grabs hold of both of your wrists.

“S-stop! Let go of me!” you scream.

He doesn't flinch. His pupils dilate and there’s a flash of something dark in his eyes… but it’s not angry. Just... intent. He’s intended for this to happen. He’s planned this to happen. It’s the inevitable now.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so long,” he murmurs. “You don’t understand what you do to me.”

You squirm beneath him, desperately trying to break free from his grasp which only tightens. There’s no malice in his expression— only a filthy, dirty obsession. Like he’s grateful you're here. Like this moment is something he’s been dreaming of. Like he’s been reciting this exact same scene in his head multiple times he could act it out to a T.

“Y’know you’re so perfect for me,” he gets closer to your neck, giving it a long wet kiss before starting to bite into the skin, leaving semi-permanent marks. You knew you were going to remember it, even if it faded away. 

“You were made for me, molded for me, shaped for me. Don’t you get it? This is fate. I know you don’t see it yet, but you will by the end of this.”

“Z-zayne… please… you don’t want to do this.” you beg him, but they just go in one ear and out the other.

“No, my love… I do want this. And you’ll want it to. I’ll make you beg for it.” he added, his voice in a dark tone. “You keep letting other men have sex with you— let me in too.”

“S-stop! Stop or I’ll tell mc!” you shriek.

He freezes in his spot, but not out of fear of being snitched… but out of disbelief. “My beloved… She helped make this happen… Wasn’t it weird when she told you to come to the party with me rather than her?”

That’s the moment it all seeps in for you. Everything that has happened with all of them just snaps into place. 

You didn’t know how long you were zoned out of it, because when you came back to reality… Zayne’s shaft was already disappearing into your body, kissing the deepest parts of your hole with every snap of his hips.

“Ugh… you’re so tight…” he mumbles in your neck, hand fondling with your tits.

Your dress was pulled from the top all the way down to your waist while your underwear was now resting at your ankles. Your bra was pushed up so high, it revealed the soft flesh that laid beneath it.

You couldn’t think anymore… you couldn’t feel anymore. The only thing that was able to process in your head was the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. It was passionate… slow… deliberate…

He wasn’t rough, he didn’t hold you as if you were going to disappear. He was loving. His touch was soft, caring to not to break you, as if you were a fragile piece of art. The rhythm he started with was gentle, letting you adjust to something more comfortable before going rougher. He knew you were still out of it, so he decided to be lenient.

If it were any other day, he can’t guarantee he would be as lenient.

TheArchivist07 Post #013 April 22nd. 8:12PM. Look out y/n,  You can’t underestimate the determination of a sex-deprived man.

—

“So, you couldn’t find an actual proper way to have sex with me so you decided to poison me with whatever the hell you poisoned me with… and raped me? I don’t think you reali—” you turn around on your seat… to see… your parents?

They look disappointed in you, as if you’d just done something wrong… this time, it’s super wrong. 

Slam!

The loud bang woke you up. It was just a dream… phew. You can’t describe how relieved you feel honestly. 

You let out a shaky breath, but something feels wrong. It’s all off, everything’s eerily weird. The ceiling above you isn’t yours. The faint scent in the room, the sheets, the dim lighting… none of it is familiar.

Your pulse quickens.

This isn’t your room.

You sit up abruptly, looking around in a panic. The bed you’re on is way too soft, you usually liked it a bit hard and the room was too nice, everything was quite neat compared to the mess you usually had. You’re in a whole new set of clothes too. Who the hell changed you? You don’t see your bag or your phone either. 

What the hell?

That’s when your eyes land on the phone on the nightstand. Definitely not yours. The wallpaper shows a not super blurred photo… like it was taken accidentally. But you know that phone. You’ve seen it in his hands.

Zayne.

Your breath catches.

You hesitate, then reach for the phone. You know it’s wrong, you know it’s invasive, but you can’t help yourself. Your thumb hovers, and to your surprise, the screen lights up. It’s unlocked.

Why is it unlocked?

You glance over your shoulder like someone might burst through the door, then quickly swipe through the messages. Most are boring. One’s from Sylus. Another from Xavier.

But then—

A message from a group chat named… “The y/n project.” There were practically thousands of messages sent in the group chat starting from… April 13th? Wasn’t that the day you came back?

You started reading the chats from this morning. The first one was sent from Zayne.

Zayne [6:36AM]: [Image]

Zayne [6:36AM]: She looked so peaceful sleeping. I could’ve kept her forever.

Sylus [6:37AM]: What if we just told her… maybe she wouldn’t run. But maybe I don’t want her to have a choice.

MC [6:40AM]: Bad idea… she’d run away, like the little bitch she is.

Caleb [6:42AM]: Let her run. I’d enjoy chasing her.

Rafayel [6:43AM]: We all know how this will end. She stays. She’s going to stay.

Caleb [6:44AM]: I don’t think she remembers what happened when she disappeared but we can’t let it happen again and that’s probably for the best.

Sylus [6:46AM]: Then we don’t let it happen. Do anything and everything it takes to keep her where we need her to be.

Zayne [6:48AM]: She’s already halfway there. She wants to trust us. She always does.

MC [6:49AM]: It’s cute how she thinks she still has a choice.

Xavier [6:50AM]: So when do we do it?

Then, nothing… You felt sick to your stomach. They’d been stalking and talking about you ever since you’d arrived.

Your breath hitches, fingers trembling as you place the phone back exactly where you found it. You swing your legs off the bed, trying not to make a sound.

You need to get out of here… like now. But then, why leave when things are getting good?

TheArchivist07 Post #014 April 23rd. 7:59AM. Nobody messes with a bitch and expect nothing in return What’s your move y/n?

You pick up Zayne’s phone again… and press the on record button. “Ngh~ It hurts… stop it Zayne… A-ahh…” you moan into the phone, anddd… sent.

You had no idea where Zayne even was, he could literally be anywhere in and out of the house. 

The phone flooded with texts and calls but you couldn’t bother. Seeing how messed up they were, they’d probably be better off in solitary confinement.

Speak of the devil, you look up and see the doctor. He has a breakfast-in-bed table all prepared for you in his hand and the other holding the door open. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Zayne says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze flicks to the bed, then to the phone on the table, and back to you.

You put on your most convincing smile. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” you say, voice sugary sweet, even though you're internally screaming at yourself to punch him right across the face… but oh well.

He sets the tray down gently in front of you. “Well, after everything, you deserve to be pampered a little. Rest, food, peace…” He pauses. “Safety.”

You can tell he’s watching you carefully now, like he’s trying to figure out if you know something you’re not supposed to. Which you do. Of course you do.

“Oh, I feel very safe,” you say, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a bite like nothing is wrong. Like you didn’t just find out he and everyone else have been planning to trap you in some psychotic group project.

He sits beside the bed, fingers steepled in thought. “You’re shaking.”

You glance down. Dammit. Your fingers haven’t stopped trembling since you saw that chat. You quickly tuck them under the blanket and chuckle, “Just cold.”

He leans in slightly, close enough for you to see the shift in his eyes. That softness? Gone. “You were snooping, weren’t you?”

Your breath catches again for a second. Then you smile and tilt your head. “Is that what you think?”

He doesn't answer right away. His eyes move to the phone. He saw the notifications. He knows something’s off.

“I just want what’s best for you,” he murmurs.

“Funny,” you reply. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

And just like that, the game resets. You're not just surviving anymore. You’re playing.

“Y’know… when you’re snooping, you’re not supposed to leave traces.” he says, showing you his phone screen with the voice message you sent. 

You giggle awkwardly, then you make a break for it, but Zayne moves fast, slamming the door shut with his body. His eyes don’t even blink.

“You think we didn’t know what you’d do once you saw the chat?” he says, voice low.

Footsteps echo down the hallway outside the room.

“Zayne,” a familiar voice calls. MC. “She saw it, didn’t she?”

Zayne smirks slightly, he’s full on smiling if you were to squint. “Mmhm. Just like we planned.”

The door opens behind him, and in walk Sylus and Xavier, followed by Caleb and Rafayel, all calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that feels like a trap shutting. MC is the last to enter. 

“You always think you’re the smartest in the room, Y/n,” he says, slipping his phone into his pocket. “But you read the wrong messages.”

Sylus crosses his arms, eyes switching between you and Zayne. “The real plan wasn’t in that chat. That was just… insurance. We knew you’d look.”

“Honestly, I’m impressed. That voice message? Bold move.” Xavier joins in. 

“But you know what’s bolder?” Caleb steps forward, eyes glittering. “Thinking you could play us.”

“You’re not the only one with games, sweetheart,” Rafayel says smoothly. “So go ahead. Make your next move.”

You glance at the door, then at all of them. You’re surrounded, trapped by five men who know your tells, your past, your fears. And MC, the one who started it all, standing at the center like this was her little trap and you’ve just fallen into it.

“So,” MC says, eyes dark. “Wanna tell us why you’ve been acting so rebellious, so naughty? Or should we show you what it looks like when we all want to teach you a lesson?”

TheArchivist07 Post #015 April 23rd. 8:28AM. Looks like this is gonna be a long discussion for you y/n

[sunny44]

Bye bye binky!!

Pairing: Lando Norris x Mom!Fem! Reader

Warnings: none I guess and English is not my first language

Summary: You and Lando are trying to get rid of your daughter’s binky.

The Norris household was in constant motion as always. Lyla, at two years old, was a curious and energetic child, always running from one side to the other, dragging her toys and, of course, her inseparable pacifier.

For Lando and me, the mission to get her to stop using the pacifier was becoming a saga.

Lando was sitting at the kitchen table, looking pensively at a list of methods we had thought of.

“What else can we try? It seems like we’ve done everything.”

I stopped washing the dishes and sighed, looking at him.

“I think we’ve tried all the possible advice. Let’s review?” Lando picked up the list and started reading.

“First, we tried the pacifier fairy approach.”

The Pacifier Fairy

One quiet night, Lyla was getting ready for bed. I sat next to her with a storybook.

“Lyla, did you know there’s a pacifier fairy?” I said excitedly as she looked at me curiously.

“A pacifier fairy?”

“Yes,” I replied. “She visits big boys and girls and takes their pacifiers to babies who need them. In return, she leaves a special gift.”

Lyla’s eyes sparkled. “A gift?”

“That’s right. How about leaving your pacifier under the pillow tonight?”

Lyla hesitated but ended up placing the pacifier under the pillow. The next morning, she found a small new toy in place of the pacifier, but the magic didn’t last. When night came, Lyla cried for the pacifier, and Lando and I ended up giving it back to her.

The Reward Calendar

The second attempt involved a colorful calendar on the fridge. Each day Lyla went without the pacifier, she would get a star sticker. After a week, she would get a big prize.

“Lyla, look how many stars you’ve already earned!” Lando said, pointing to the calendar.

Lyla smiled proudly.

“Wow, and o get a prize?”

“Yes, if you keep it up!” I replied, excited.

But halfway through the week, Lyla had a crying fit so intense that we had to give in again, giving her the pacifier.

The Substitution

Trying a new method, we decided to buy several toys and stuffed animals to offer as new comfort items for her.

“Look, Lyla, a new teddy bear!” I said, showing the brown teddy bear.

Lyla took the teddy bear but quickly dropped it and went back to the pacifier.

“I want my binky, Mommy.”

We tried various different toys, but nothing seemed to offer the same comfort as the pacifier for Lyla.

The Gradual Approach

We decided to adopt a gradual approach.

“Let’s limit the use of the pacifier to just bedtime,” suggested Lando.

“Good idea,” I agreed. “That way, she can get used to it slowly.”

During the day, we put the pacifier away and distracted Lyla with games and activities. However, each night, the separation was met with tears and whining. Once again, we found ourselves giving the pacifier to calm her down.

The Distraction Tactic

The last attempt involved constant distractions. Whenever Lyla asked for the pacifier, we offered some fun activity.

“Let’s paint a picture, Lyla?” I suggested, holding a set of watercolors.

For a while, this worked, but Lyla soon began to insist on the pacifier, even in the middle of activities.

Lando sighed as he finished reading the list.

“None of this worked.”

I approached him, placing my hand on Lando’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time to try something new. Something that will really make Lyla want to say goodbye to the pacifier on her own.”

And that’s how we came up with the balloon idea. The hope was that by turning the farewell into a celebration, Lyla would better accept the change. With a final sigh of determination, Lando and I prepared for the final attempt.

“Tomorrow morning I’ll go out to buy donuts for breakfast, which she loves, and the balloon. Then we’ll do it,” Lando said, and I agreed, finishing organizing the kitchen so we could go to bed.

…

The morning sun lit up our house, and the day was perfect for a celebration. Lando and I were sitting on the floor, surrounded by toys and building blocks. Lyla was beside us, firmly holding her pacifier. We had already planned everything. I arranged the donuts on a tray so that when she let go and the pacifier was gone, she would have something she loved to eat and perhaps help her forget.

“Lyla, look!” Lando said, kneeling beside our daughter. “How about we send your binky to the sky? So it can travel around and see new places.”

Lyla looked at the balloon and then at the pacifier, holding it even tighter.

“Daddy, I like my binky.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Lando replied softly, stroking Lyla’s hair. “But you’re a big girl now. And big girls don’t need a binky, right? Besides, it’ll be so much fun to watch the balloon fly!”

Lyla hesitated, but the idea of seeing the balloon rise seemed interesting. Finally, she let go of the pacifier and allowed Lando to tie it to the balloon. Lando handed the balloon to Lyla and smiled.

“Ready to let go, Lyla?” Lyla held the balloon with both hands, her eyes fixed on it.

“Ready.”

With one last look of hesitation, she let go of the balloon. We watched as it slowly rose higher and higher into the blue sky. For a moment, everything seemed fine, but then Lyla looked like she was about to cry—we could see her lips trembling. But then Lando and I started jumping and shouting with joy.

“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” shouted Lando, raising his arms.

“You did it, Lyla! How amazing!” I shouted, clapping.

Lyla looked at her parents, surprised by their reaction. Slowly, a smile began to form on her face. She stood up and started jumping too, imitating her parents.

“Woohoo! Bye-bye, binky!” she repeated, laughing.

We continued to jump and laugh together, our joy spreading to Lyla. Gradually, she forgot about the pacifier and focused on the fun of the moment.

After a few minutes, we stopped to catch our breath, still laughing. Lando picked Lyla up and hugged her.

“I’m so proud of you, Lyla. You are very brave.” I joined the hug, kissing Lyla’s forehead.

“You did something amazing today, sweetheart. We are very happy.”

Lyla smiled, feeling proud.

“Does this mean I’m a big girl now?”

“Yes, you are,” Lando agreed, stroking her head.

After a few minutes, we went inside to eat the donuts and celebrate that we had finally said goodbye to the pacifier.

Bonus scene!

Landonorris instagram stories

“Bye Bye Lyla’s binky”

[motheroffeline]

Slangin' Tail

(I do not condone cheating, but this a little dream I had last night so I had to write it.)

18+ Minors DNI!!!, angst (one shot)

Many people in my life thought that Terry and I were the perfect couple. To give a little background, I had met him while jogging and he was just so... direct. Date after date I began to fall in love with him gaining what other couples call "happy weight" but really it was due to my overall lack of dopamine. You are probably wondering why I was unhappy, and it was because Terry went back to Shelby Springs even after I told him not to. Light-eyed bastard was so stubborn he let my words go out one ear through the other.

I was sad so many damn nights waiting for him to walk through my bedroom door but nothing. He wouldn't even call my ass to check in and see how I was doing so naturally I found myself losing the love I had accumulated with him. Then, in March on the 23rd, I met this upstanding guy named Dmitri Tully who I know now was one of Terry's friends he had used to see if I would cheat on him: I did. I was treated to dinner parties, movies, museum visits, and all of the sex I could ever want. Most days I wonder if Dmitri even told Terry that he really fucked me forreal but I guess it really doesn't matter now.

I remember when Dmitri chocolate self had me laid missionary on the bed where me and Terry used to have sex at. My mouth kept opening because he was fucking the living shit out of me not like Terry, but it was good. That dick of his was touching every spot I couldn't reach with my own fingers after Terry left. And even with the overwhelming pleasure Dmitri was giving me I beat myself up over it.

After that day, Terry drove up in the driveway at 6:45 P.M. and I was excited beyond belief but the expression on his face took me aback: turns out Dmitri had screenshotted all of the texts we had shared together and sent them to Terry. I mean he was in the right but at the time I remembered wanting to disappear my damn self to get away from Terry Richmond.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

"This some Bogus ass shit, Y/n." Terry gave me shit as soon as he walked in the door, but I held my ground.

"Well, you up and left so somebody had to take care of business for me. What am I gonna do Terry? After everytime you leave I'm just supposed to be a nun, huh? Well fuck that! You got a good job here but you wanna be Walker Texas ranger on some shit. Fuck you!" Anger boiled inside of me like a cauldron because Terry had ignored me for so long and I didn't even know if he was alive or dead. And with that anger came guilt because I had really cheated on my boyfriend.

Terry's eyes darkened like the sky outside, but he smoothed his hands down his face trying to maintain his composure. He was so furious with me that every word that spewed from his mouth caused me to flinch from how severe they were.

"I don't give a damn if I get stuck in another continent for 9 years you supposed to wait on me! You some type of slut? I swear to god... How long has it even been going on? I really wouldn't be surprised if it was soon after I left. You know what don't even tell me. I'm gonna show you something... When I get in that damn shower and come back out you better be in the bed you just fucked that nigga in!" Terry's eyes were bloodshot as he stormed upstairs to the bathroom.

I was stunned to be completely honest. Terry was a pretty dominant man but I had never seen this side of him come out. Like a mindless slave, I found myself getting in the bed waiting for Terry to come out of the bathroom. Whatever he wanted to do with me I would let him because even I knew that I was wrong. We were both wrong really, but I really had to go behind his back with his own friend.

The shower turned off and I let out a breath I had no idea I was even holding in. Without preamble, he walked into our shared room completely naked, no towel or nothing to hide that god-like body of his and it felt wrong for me to even be drooling over him.

"Cheat on me with a friend? That's a low blow." Terry walked over to the bed, dick swaying, and sat right in front of me. It felt like I had dry mouth because I couldn't even muster words, and I was pretty sure that they would come out as gibberish if I actually did speak but I tried anyways.

"Baby, I just wanted to know if you were okay. You didn't call me or nothing didn't even say "hey" or "good morning" or "good night" it felt like you were dead. I know how dangerous your other job is and I thought that you didn't make it. Dmitri was a mistake, okay? Nobody can do me like you and no one knows me like you, so it was really all a fling. How can I apologize without leaving you, Terrance?" Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, but it was my fault for my lack of impulse because if I had just waited Terry wouldn't be glaring at me right now like an enemy.

"Oh, it's Terrance now, alright... But baby you really did fuck up and I'm so mad at you right now I don't even know what to do. If I was gone any longer, would you have fucked half the block? I'm out trying to make money to keep both of our heads above the water and you can't even wait baby. Want me to show you how waiting works?" His voice was eerily calm which unsettled me, but I nodded my head anyways without knowing what was in store for me.

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_

"Oh dadddyyyy! Ughh fuck please let me cumm?" I was practically crying because Terry had been edging me over 13 hours by now and it felt like I was falling into delirium.

"Nah." The vibrator on my clit increased in levels and somehow Terry knew exactly when to remove it before I could actually get release. He had that devilish smirk on his face because he knew after tonight the dynamics of our relationship would change.

"Baby, you need somebody to monitor every little thing you doing. You so sneaky... slangin ass thinking I wouldn't find out about it." He kissed his teeth as I raised my hips up trying to grind my wet pussy against the vibrator.

"I need you, please don't go! Unhhhhh uhhhhh oh shit so close please daddy please..." Tears were running down my face as my I felt my orgasm approaching but he simply pulled the vibrator away altogether leaving me completely unsatisfied.

"I'm not gonna let you cum on a vibrator or my fingers but this dick because you need a reminder, Y/n. If I don't fuck you to show you that all of this ass, them titties, those pretty brown eyes, and that wet ass pussy belongs to me then you gonna run off again. Can't have you running off can't I?"

I was already gasping for air and Terry crawled on top of me pushing himself in slowly. The pressure of his size alone was enough to make me pass out but I kept my unsteady eyes on his bluish green ones. His fingers slipped through my silk-pressed hair propping my head up on his palm as he slowly began to dig me out.

There was something about sex this time that felt like I was giving everything I had to him and there was no going back. Those slow thrusts soon turned into sharp ones and his balls were plopping against my clit sending me into my first orgasm of the night and I ejected Terry out of my pussy.

"See? Can't nobody but me have your pussy crying from joy. See you need to learn from your pussy so happy to see me its gushing but you? I still think you in denial about everything. Want me to talk? I'll talk to you every day from now on baby. You can bring up a Netflix show I fucking hate and I'll watch it just to have a conversation with you. Let me know when you need me, okay? Goddamn I want to forgive but it's so hard..." There was confliction in Terry's words and in my stomach as he continued to dick me down.

He started kissing my neck with those thick lips of his and I fell into my second orgasm of the night, burying my nails into his back. My hair was slowly returning to its curly form from the sweating running down my forehead and Terry's sweat falling on my face.

Before I knew it, he had me on all fours face buried into the white pillows as he held both of my wrists in one hand. His teeth were buried into his lip as he continued to give me that dick and I knew that he was about to cum so I bounced my ass back against him.

"Ohhhhh daddyyy this pussy all yours you can have meeee! Ooooo you hitting my spot oh!" I whimpered as I felt Terry precisely nailing my spot causing my toes to curl into the sheets and for my mouth to salivate.

"See how daddy taking care of you? Even when I'm mad as fuck I'm considerate like this. A nigga like Dmitri? That's my friend but you would be on the street fucking with him. Baby you got all of what you need right now in those pretty, pink guts of yours. Pussy drooling all over me and your other lips drooling on the pillow because you can't say shit. Ah, how I like it when you can't say shit." Terry chuckled lightly before increasing his thrusts which caused the sheets to bundle up under the both of you and your third orgasm of the night was approaching in rapid succession.

"Ohhhh fuckkkkk never again! I'll never be unloyal again please just let me cum? I'm sorry please I'm sorry I'm so dumb I didn't even know what I had right here... Ahhhh you in meeee so deep!" My voice squeaked as I reached my climax, squirting on his thighs and dick as the flow of pleasure ran over me like a tsunami wave.

"That's what I like to hear..." Terry said as he pulled his slightly soft dick out of my used pussy. The slosh of his cum and mines made me shiver before I drifted off into sleep.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Terry must have cleaned me up in my sleep and apparently, he still thought I was asleep because he was talking to Dmitri on the phone:

"Man, please tell me you broke up with that no good ass woman. When I first saw her I knew she was troub-" "Dmitri, I don't think that's none of your business "man" "

[bunbun-mochi]

Mischievous I

Luke and Kieran, Ft. Sylus x MC (pre marriage)

Warning: Just pure fluff. Swearing. Mephisto almost died (exaggerating)

Word Count:1017, no proofreading

Preview: MC asked Luke and Kieran to steal Sylus' wallet so she can finally pay for their date. Luke and Kieran happily agreed.

"Pst." Luke and Kieran looked at each other when they heard a pst sound.

"Pst. Here!" MC poked their head into their bedroom. "Can I come in?"

"Do you know what it means?" Luke said.

"When visiting men at night?" Kieran continued.

"In their room?" Luke finished.

MC rolled her eyes. "Is that a yes or no?"

Luke and Kieran shrugged. "Sure, but if boss came looking for us because you visited us at night, you gonna take the blame."

"Yea yea, whatever." MC said as she closed the door. "I need your help."

"Yea?" Luke said, clearly uninterested.

"I need you to steal Sylus' wallet."

Both Luke and Kieran straighten up.

"He keeps paying for everything. Let me pay for once! So you two better do a good job!"

Both Luke and Kieran stood up and playfully saluted, "Yes ma'am!"

"I'm counting on you both!"

Luke and Kieran snuck into Sylus' office while MC was distracting Sylus in the living room.

"Check the cabnets!" Luke whispered.

"I did! It not there!" Kieran whispered back.

"Did you check his desk?"

"That's the first thing I checked!"

"Check harder! It have to be in the room somewhere!"

Both Luke and Kieran looked high and low, but failed to find their boss' wallet.

"What are you two doing?" A deep voice interrupted their search.

"Boss!" Luke jumped. "We uh were looking for something." Kieran nodded.

Sylus narrowed his eyes, "What are you two be looking for that could be in my office?"

Luke and Kieran felt sweat rolled down their back and through their clentched buttcheeks. "Uh."

"They are looking for my earrings." MC interjected.

Luke and Kieran immedietly nodded, "Yes. Her earrings."

Sylus eyed both Luke and Kieran then to MC. "Really now."

Luke, Kieran, and MC all nodded.

"Then continue looking." Sylus lazily waved his hand and left his office. Right before the door closes, MC gestured with her hand as if saying "Do better".

The door closed and Luke and Kieran looked at each other. "We're fucked."

The next few days weren't lucky either. Luke and Kieran looked in other rooms while MC rummaged through Sylus' clothes while Sylus showered. But all three came empty-handed.

"Where the fuck would he hide his wallet?" Luke throws his hand in the air, clearly frustrated.

All three are in the twin's room having their "meetings".

"Could he be taking it with him everywhere?" MC asked.

Kieran shook his head, "No, I've seen his wallet a few times, laying sometimes on his desk or the coffee table."

"Do you think he knows what we are doing?" MC asked.

Luke and Kieran both shrugged. "After working under him, we noticed that he tend to know things much more than we do. So probably."

MC groaned. "Great. Now what?"

"We should give up." Luke winked.

MC looked at Luke and beamed. "You're absolutely right!"

The next few days, Luke, Kieran, and MC do their daily routine as usual.

MC laid on her bed in her apartment, staring at the ceiling. It's only a few hours before their date and she had failed to get Sylus' wallet. Since she can't get his wallet, she's going for Plan B. Pay before he does.

Suddently, her phone dinged. She grabbed her phone and checked. It's from the twins.

Luke:

Guess

Kieran:

What

Luke:

?

MC:

What?

An image poped up. A picture of a wallet.

Luke:

We got what you asked.

Kieran:

We expect payment.

MC:

HOW?

Kieran:

A magician never reveals their secrets

MC rolled her eyes and smiled. Trusting the twins was the right idea. She jumped and down, excited for the date.

The date went well. MC was smiling ear from ear.

"Aren't you excited." Sylus chuckled. "What happened?"

MC shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Just something good happened at work."

"Please do share the good news with me."

MC froze. "Uh, I got a raise!"

Sylus nodded. "Mhm."

"That's ... it."

"Is that right? How much?" Sylus smiled, and clearly knew that MC is pulling answers out of her ass.

"About uh..." MC started then she furrowed her eyebrows. "Hey. What's that look!"

Sylus chuckled, "It's like watching a kitten did something bad but is trying very hard to cover their crimes."

MC puts her hands on her hips, "I don't do crimes. I'm innocent."

"Sure."

Before MC could come with another comeback, the waiter arrived with a bill.

MC beamed. She reached in her purse for her wallet. She shuffled through the bag. Then she looked in her purse. Then she looked up at Sylus.

Sylus, having a knowing smile, asked, "Looking for something?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. All the while smirking at MC.

MC sat there, bewildered. "What-How-What?"

"Don't worry, Luke and Kieran have your wallet."

MC stared at Sylus, dumbfounded.

Sylus cocked his head to the side, "What? You really would think I'll allow you to pay? I'll lose my dignity if I do that."

MC, still staring at Sylus, "How?"

Sylus leaned back in his seat, "It was pretty obvious what you three were up to."

MC furrowed her eyebrow, "Mephisto snitched, didn't he."

"Please leave my pet alone."

"No, I'm going send hell to that damn bird!"

MC and Sylus went back into the mansion. Luke and Kieran greeted them with a slightly guilty look on their faces.

"Sylus! How did Luke and Kieran have my wallet?"

Sylus shrugged, "Easy. I brought another wallet that looks like mine, put your cards in it, and let Luke and Kieran get it, thinking they got mine."

"How did you get my wallet?"

"When you slept."

MC gasped, "You!"

Sylus chucked, "You're free to stay here as long as you need."

"What I need is the location of that chicken!"

"Don't insult Mephisto using that phrase. He'll get sad."

"I don't give a damn. Where's Mephisto?!"

"Kitten-" Sylus started when MC ran upstairs and into Sylus' room.

What can be heard is Mephisto cawing loudly while beating his wings furiously, trying to get away from MC while MC ran around the room screaming "YOU SNITCH".

dividers, templates, headers, and banners are from @uzmacchiato

[pixelnrd]

Mac was satisfied with their mother's account of her own childhood and where she had come from; but it had only opened up more doors that Mac wanted to explore. They had heard from their mother and her siblings - but they wanted to know more. And who better to tell them than their grandmothers.

Mac tried to visit their grandma's every few months. The years had taken a lot from them in old age, and the triplets had sequestered them back home from Tartosa to keep them close by and safe as old age began to take its toll on every facet of their lives. Heather and Jenny lived in a retirement home, albeit one that had every luxury of a resort. Whenever Mac visited, they were always busy with some activity or social engagement.

This time though, Heather was excited to see her grandchild to tell them stories of her own life. She broke out her old family photo album, the one she had held onto her whole life, with the precious few photographs she had to show where she herself had come from.

'My mother and father were married, and they had me and my brother. You'd see these photos and think we were the perfect family, but I learnt from a young age that things aren't always what they might seem from the outside - my Mom was unhappy, and my Dad was a workaholic. After my parents divorced, Dad married again and moved away, your classic mid life crisis. But even so, as a young girl I missed him so dearly.'

'I guess that's the benefit of never having known my Dad,' mused Mac. 'I can't miss someone I never met.'

Heather smiled at her grandchild. 'Such an insightful one, aren't you? You can't miss what you never had... except your own memories. I did always want to see that big house we grew up in one last time before my time is up.'

Mac had a great idea. 'Why don't we go there, granny? Just for a look?'

And so Mac took their elderly grandmother on a road trip to San Sequoia, to the address of the home she had grown up in as a child in the 80s. Except when they arrived, the house didn't look the same.

'Well, I guess it's to be expected,' sighed Heather. 'All old things get remade into something new.'

Mac didn't want their grandmother to be sad; but as they went to turn around, a family came out of the house - a Mom, a Dad and so many children.

'Sorry to have bothered,' said Mac. 'It's just, my granny here grew up in this house as a girl, and she wanted to see it one more time.'

The family were excited to hear Heather's story, and invited them into the house. It was a beautiful, sunlit home with all the marks of being well lived in by a young family. It was nothing at all like it had been in Heather's childhood - and yet, she smiled as she looked around the space, remembering that her childhood had existed right here too in a different time.

'Are you okay, granny?' asked Mac. They didn't want her to be feeling sad, like her childhood had been destroyed.

Heather smiled and hugged her grandchild. 'Not at all my dear. Another family lives here and is making their memories now. Think of the beaitiful layers and layers of happy childhoods that exist here. I am glad that this home is still loved.'

[kurithedweeb]

Dear Sir Garroth,

You may have noticed, if you ever read this, that I did not try to set this letter on fire. Perhaps I should have. I am, after all, still pissed at you and lacking anything better to do. Still bedridden. It hasn't been all that long since my last letter, in truth.

Dante's been visiting us a lot, whenever he can spare the time. He's trying to catch everyone up on what we missed the last fifteen years. He's the only one who's been here the entire time. He never stopped writing reports, so those have been helping some when I can make out the words. Fifteen years and his writing still looks like chicken scratch. At least one thing's still the same.

He has children now. His oldest daughter is six years old. I haven't met her yet. It's hard to imagine Dante as a father when less than a week ago he was sixteen. He turned sixteen in the middle of a war and now he has a six year old daughter. And guess who the mother is? Miss Nana. I remember his cute little crush on her, I remember the way she could make him smile when the rest of us could barely get him to respond at all. They're a good match, aren't they?

She came to see us with Dante. She brought a basket of pastries like she used to bring to the barracks. She made some old favorites to welcome us home. She thought you were with us. She asked where you were.

I couldn't tell her. I couldn't utter a single word. All I could do was sit there, clutching the edge of my cot, eyes on the floor. She figured it out before anyone could explain. She apologized to our lady, and then she sat beside me and put her hand on mine and said nothing. She didn't need to.

So much has happened. Half the village moved away. Dante and Miss Nana are married with a family. All the little ones are grown up. Our little Levin is Lord of Phoenix Drop and can't walk on his own. Cadenza is Lord of Meteli. My father is dead.

For all I know, so are you. I turned back just before I went into the portal. It was only long enough for a glimpse, but I saw him run a sword through you. In your back and out your chest. Did you see me as I turned back? Was I the last thing you saw? I hope I was, if it was between me and him.

I haven't told our lady yet. I haven't told anyone. They still hope that we might be able to go back for you, or that we might be able to find some way to bring you home. I know what I saw, but there's some part of me that thinks you could have survived. If anyone could do it, you could.

I lit a candle for you. You don't know what that means. It's something we do along the Trail for lost souls. We make candles that don't burn out and when someone goes travelling we light one; Dante kept the ones he found in my bunk years ago. The flame is a part of the person the candle is for. It's supposed to guide them home, only going out when someone dies. Your candle is beside me right now. It's been burning bright since I first lit it. I want that to mean you're still alive, but for the first time in my life I'm wondering whether the candle knows. I hope it does. I want you to come home. I want to be there for you the way you were for me. The way you always have been.

My sister lit a candle for me. For fifteen years it has been burning. She wrote a letter to me when it went out. She spent half the flint she had to relight it, and cried over the page when it finally caught. Some lines are illegible, ink warped by wet spots. I haven't seen Seafarer's in writing in so long that I can't believe there was ever a time I struggled to write in anything else.

We spent countless nights transcribing my reports into something you could actually read. The night before you took the amulet from me, it was just like all those nights. Oddly enough, that night out of all the rest feels so far away. Maybe it's because of what almost happened between us that night that never did, maybe that makes it all feel a bit like a dream. Were you thinking of that night when you saw me last?

I don't know if I will ever be able to stop being angry with you. I still watch your candle burn until I fall asleep. I still miss you terribly.

Sincerely yours,

Your second-in-command, Sir Laurance Zvahl of Phoenix Drop

[alexa-yukiyu]

Hear me out

Dragon!Child!reader is just casually flying along the seas visiting many islands and just vibing, Child got no concept of the government at ALL so whenever Reader wants to get some food she always remembers humans uses these gold coins and reader just coughs it out. BASICALLY UH Calm peaceful Dragon child flying and having fun while others are like

'IS THAT A FREAKIN DRAGON-'(⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠)

(okay I don't know where this is going now ಠ⁠∀⁠ಠ)

Wandering Dragon ( Whitebeard pirates x dragon!fem!child!reader x revolutionary army)

A/N: Here we go! I only did two crew’s, more like one and a half because I really wanted to give you guys something. I really love writing these hybrid!reader they are so fun.

Part 2 with The Whitebeard pirates

Dividers by @/saradika

“Where did she come from?” Dragon asks as he stares at the running child, her tail trailing behind her as she ran

“She flew into the ship a while ago, said she was exploring,” Ivankov answers as he watches the girl jump into Koala’s hands, laughing

“I’ve never seen something like her in all my years!” Koala grins at the child as she curls up on her shoulder

“Nor have I, I don’t ever remember seeing one of her kind in my life,” Sabo speaks up as he leans in closer to get a better look at the girl

She leans back from koala, wiggling out of her grasp and flapping her wings flying in front of Sabo

“Whoa there, aren’t you cute?” Sabo glances at the child with a slight smile on his face, reaching a hand out towards her

She furls up in a ball, beaming at his comment, still keeping herself up in the air, her cheeks tinted pink

“Thank you~.”

“You have scales on your cheeks… are you a dragon girl?” Sabo asks, still reaching his hand out carefully toward her

She unfurls herself, leaning into his touch and allowing him to feel the scales on her cheek

“Im Dragon Hybrid; I guess that makes me a dragon girl,” she says, thinking about it

“A dragon girl… that’s pretty incredible,” Sabo murmurs, smiling softly at the girl as he lightly runs a finger across her cheek

“Are you a Dragon Man? They called you Dragon. Are you a cool dragon? Can you breathe fire? Or are you a water dragon? Does your form like a serpent?” She rambles, flying in front of dragon excitedly

“She’s energetic,” Dragon says before sighing as he watches the child and rubbing his temples as he watches her buzz around

“I think she’s adorable,” Koala gushes with a grin on her face

“No. I am not a dragon; My name is Monkey D. Dragon.”

“Awe, no dragon? Nothing?”

“What do I look like a Dragon to you?” Dragon sighs, rubbing his hand down his face as he stares at her

“Hmmm,” she thinks as he circles him

“Yeah, kinda do.”

“Please tell me how I look like a dragon,” Dragon asks with a scoff in his tone

“You remind me of some of the grumpy dragons; they have that same scowl you have right now.”

“That is quite an interesting way to describe someone,” Dragon replies, shaking his head with a slight grin

“She is an interesting child, that’s for certain” Sabo speaks up, glancing at her curiously while she circles his captain

He grins as he calls her over

“Check this out,” he says, lighting his hand on fire

She awes at the sight

“Are you a dragon?”

“Just an ability granted to me by my devil fruit” He smiles, returning his hand to its original state

“The mera mera fruit! Somehow both me and my brother have it.” ” He continues, excited about demonstrating his abilities

She marbles at his numerous tricks and fire abilities that he keeps showing her

She frowns as nightfall falls; hours had gone quickly as she went from member to member with her usual antics

At one point even giving Ivancov a heart attack as they casually started coughing out golden coins when they had asked her how she bought food for herself.

“Is this not how you guys normally get these shiny things?” She had questioned, much to the shock and horror of some of the crewmates

“Aww, I have to get going now.”

“You’re going?” Koala looks at her disappointedly; she had enjoyed being around the child

“Mmhm, I have to keep going if I want to explore and meet more places and people. Im sure I‘ll see you again 'cause we're both moving around.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing you again then.”

“Goodbye, be careful on your travels, alright?” Sabo says with a soft smile before reaching out to gently ruffle her hair before she takes off

“And don’t get yourself into too much trouble!” Ivankov calls after the girl before turning to the others,

“Well, she was a pleasant surprise” he grins

“I didn’t expect a child to just wander into our ship,” Dragon chuckles while rubbing his head

Reader had now somehow found themselves aboard the Moby Dick, she was tired from her travels and needed to land, and the ship happened to be the closest.

She sneaked her way to the storage room so she could sleep the night away, and she did until she was interrupted when two of the ship's commanders descended into the storage room in search of more food to restock the kitchen. Ace accidentally knocks into one of the boxes, startling awake the dragon girl; he stares at her for a while as she stares back.

“Thatch, are you thinking what im thinking?”

“Yep, old pops is gonna throw a celebration when he hears we have got ourselves a kid on board.”

She stares at them for a second and smiles

Ace chuckles before leaning down in front of you.

"What's your name, kid?" he says, grinning.

“Im reader!” She replies, her wings flapping gently behind her

"Well, hey there, Reader. I'm Ace. And that's Thatch," he says, gesturing to the man standing next to him.

She grins and waves at them excitedly

Ace laughs and picks her up.

"What are you doing stowing away on our ship, anyway? It's not like you could even fit in these boxes. You know, most stowers usually just do it so that they can rob our ship. But the thing is, I don't see any weapons on you." Thatch comments, observing her

“Im not stowing away! Im exploring!” The pout,

“And I don’t need any weapons! I got these!” She says as she wacks her tail and wings and gently headbutts Ace with her horns

Ace laughs as she headbutts him.

"You're pretty feisty, huh? That's a good trait for a pirate. And you say you're not a stowaway or a robber, but you're definitely a bit of a troublemaker, aren't you?"

“Im not a Pirate either.”

Thatch chuckles, a bit confused.

"You're not a pirate? Well, what are you then? A marine? A merchant? Or even a traveler?" he asks.

“Umm, I ‘m Reader!”

"Well, okay then. And how old are you, Reader?" he asks.

“8!”

Ace laughs, looking at Thatch

"Eight? Now I really want to take her to Pops. Because I can already tell that he's gonna love you, kiddo." He says, glancing back at her

“Popsicle?”

They snicker

"Popsicle? No, no, no, no. Pops. Our captain. Whitebeard? He's probably gonna get a kick out of finding a stowaway as adorable as you." Thatch explains

“Not a stowaway!”

"Okay, okay, okay. Fine, fine. You're not a stowaway. You're just an adorable little kid who decided, at eight years old, to explore on her own. Not to mention, you just decided to explore the ship of the Whitebeard Pirates, of all places.”Ace says, fixing his previous statement for the small girl

She nods, pleased with his description

Sabo was so wholesome here 🥹, Also reader is a lowkey menace in this one lmao, let me know if I should continue this, add more to the whitebeard crew and/or add different crew’s as well.

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

[bunniesanddeer]

Hi! I hope you’re having a wonderful day or night.

I saw your asks are open and I had an idea. What if it’s a protective Alastor x Reader who is the daughter of a protective Lucifer? Maybe she kept in contact with her dad so they are closer and she is older than Charlie. When Lucifer comes to visit the hotel him and Alastor cause some drama

Thanks!

W.P💚

I hope this is what you were looking for? I am very new to doing things like this!

Daddy's Girl

Pairing: Alastor X Lucifer's Daughter! Reader

Tags: Sisterly love, some sexual connotations, spoilers, some angst maybe? idk, swearing, Mimzy.

SPOILERS FOR "DAD BEAT DAD"

Word Count: 1,775

The hotel was eerily quiet when you awoke, so you made your way downstairs to see if anyone was awake. All you could hear as you made your way down the stairs was your quiet footfalls and weird murmuring. As you turned towards the sitting area, you realized the muttering was coming from your younger sister, Charlie.

Charlie was pacing back and forth in front of a pin board covered in colorful papers, and strings. She tugged at her hair, her muttering growing more frantic. As you took in the scene, you realized there were a few people standing and watching her. Niffty was bouncing on the couch, her face full of a strange glee. Husk and Sir Pentious were watching with mixes of bafflement and curiosity.

“Hey, Char Char? Are you ok?” You asked, walking around the couch to get a better view. You saw Angel and Vaggie approach from your peripherals as Charlie whipped around frantically.

“Nope! No. Not really! Haha. Hah…” Her false smile falls as she rips a page off the board. “I have been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn’t working! We’ve done every single trust exercise and arts and crafts project I could find! We’ve talked about our feelings and… nothing is working!”

You frown. You knew that things taking so long would eventually get to her, but it was sad to see just how severely. She needed more help. 

You walk up to your sister, and set your hands on her shoulders. “I think…”

Her expression collapses. “Please don’t say it.”

“We should call dad. And ask for his help.”

She winces. She clearly doesn’t want your dad’s help. You can’t exactly blame her, either. The two of you were raised a little separate, and it had affected her relationship with Lucifer pretty badly. Although, you were older, and it had afforded you time with Lucifer before Lilith had started to separate herself from him. Charlie had only had a handful of years before their relationship went south. It showed in her anxiety with him, and Lucifer’s inability to talk to Charlie openly. It made you sad, but you weren’t sure how to fix that rift.

“He’s the reason the extermination happens to begin with! He just let it happen! He doesn’t even like sinners! Why would he help me?” Charlie hugs herself, looking off to the side. “He’s always preferred you anyway.”

You hear some audible winces from the audience by the couch, but you ignore them. You pull her into a tight hug, her taller frame putting you at her collarbones. “You know I would change that if I could, honey.” You squeeze her tightly and say, “We can at least see if he can get you a meeting. Anything to give you the advantage, Char Char.”

She sighs, and hugs you back. “Yeah. I guess we can at least try.”

You pull back. “I think you should call him. I bet he’s dying to hear from you, even though he sucks at showing it.”

Charlie rubs her arm and nods. “Alright. I’ll do it!”

As she struggles to start the phone call, Husk makes comments about her having ‘Daddy Issues’, and you blanch. How rude! (Even if it was true). The others make comments about meeting Lucifer, but you and Vaggie just keep your eyes on Charlie. She seems so nervous, and it makes your stomach twist in knots. 

She finally calls. It rings three times before a faint, “Heyyyy bitch!” rings out on the other end of the line. You facepalm. Good going Dad.

When all is said and done, Lucifer announces he is visiting within the hour, after much cajoling and guilt-tripping on Charlie’s part. Although, from what you could hear, he seemed excited.

Charlie is excited, and so is everyone else in the hotel. You cheer for her, and then the realization hits you. 

Alastor. Fuck.

As the final touches are finished, you sidle up to Alastor with a small grin.

“Please, please don’t start shit. Charlie needs this to work. And I need this to work for Charlie,” you murmur to him. 

He barely glances at you. “Worry not, sweetheart! You know I would never do anything to risk the reputation of the hotel! Charlie will get the help she needs!” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he squeezes you into his side. For just a moment, his head ducks down, and he whispers into your ear. “Just need to make it clear whose little girl you are now.” Then he perks right back up like nothing happened.

Your face burns hot. How dare he! But you don’t get to do anything in retaliation, because Charlie is opening the door.

“Chaaaaarlie!” Lucifer exclaims, immediately pulling her into a tight embrace. Your sister’s face is full of shock, and you just want to laugh. Ha! You were right! He continues talking to her in the slightest baby voice, and you can’t help but let some giggles escape you. Your dad could be just so silly! “Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

He lets go of Charlie as she welcomes him to the hotel. He spots Keekee first, and pets her. Then greets Razzle and Dazzle. You watch from the sidelines with a small smile. It was nice seeing your dad outside the home. He had been holing himself up for so long… You look up at Alastor, who hasn’t moved an inch since your dad came in.

You elbow him gently. “You okay?”

Alasotr’s expression is tight. His eyes flicker to you for a moment, before landing back on your father. He merely hums in response, making you frown. How odd… You knew the two wouldn’t get along, but for Alastor to dislike him already?

 Then your dad spots the bar. “Oh! What in the unholy Hell is that?” 

Alastor immediately shadow-walks to the other side of the room, and you know it’s time to intervene.

“Oh! Just some of the renovations we’ve made.” Alastor gestures with his mic, before continuing. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?” 

You wince, and make your way to Alastor’s side. 

“Hey, Dad,” you say, trying to prevent your dad making any further comments on the decor. That's a good way to piss off Alastor.

“Sweetheart!” Your dad runs up to you, and tries picking you up. You laugh at the tights squeeze. “How’s my girl?” His hands squish your cheeks, making it hard to respond.

You giggle through the ministrations, and finally push his hands back so you can respond. “I’m doing great, Dad. Figured I should introduce you to Alastor here.” You gesture to Alastor, who looks the closest to not smiling that you have ever seen. It makes your stomach feel like lead, as you keep talking. “He’s our facilities' manager, and my…”

Your voice trails off, and you look at Alastor, as if hoping he has the word you are looking for.

“I’m her lover!” Alastor exclaims, quite loudly. His static drops for a moment and then bursts back up in volume, making you wince. Great. He just announced that to everyone in the room. The ‘everyone’ being everyone who didn’t know. You can hear Charlie ‘whoop!’ in the background, and several variations of ‘what the fuck’. “She’s quite the darling. I just couldn’t resist this sweet face!” Alastor grabs at your cheeks, similar to how your dad did, and squishes them. “See?”

You risk a glance at your dad. He looks ready to kill. Fuck. This is absolutely not how you wanted to tell your dad. He nearly killed the last partner you had for ghosting you. You can see your dad’s horns growing, and you push Alastor back.

“Haha! Yeah. Uh. Sorry. I would have told you before now, but we’re kind of new! We were trying to keep it on the down-low for now but…” You glare at Alastor, but he just has this shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he doesn’t care. 

“Right.” Your dad continues glaring at Alastor. You wince, and decide to go over by the snack table. Angel is just giving you this look, and you know he will be asking about Alastor’s dick, which you have not seen, later. Husk seems disappointed in you, and you absolutely know why. You just give him an apologetic shrug, and watch as Alastor and your dad seem to start a pissing match. 

It ends with Alastor in his face saying, “Fuck you,” and your knees nearly give out. Holy shit. 

Charlie finally intervenes, and Lucifer, after some more glaring at Alastor, get her to introduce him to the rest of the residents.

Alastor lays a hand on your shoulder as your dad greets both the guests and the staff. You can feel his thumb rubbing back and forth, and it sends shivers down your spine. You look up at Alastor, but his gaze is still locked on your dad. Annoyed, you roll your eyes with a huff, and look back to the meet-and-greet. Your dad is looking back at you, his frown deep, and a barely audible growl making its way to your ears. Your dad is fucking growling at Alastor. What the Hell?

A rumble builds up in Alastor’s chest, and you can feel it against your back. This one sets heat back up to your face. Gosh, this man needed to get his shit together. No need to start stuff with your dad! Alastor’s hand tightens on your shoulder, before he lets go and stalks back towards Charlie, who is trying to convince your dad to help her. 

And then they’re singing. Because of course. Alastor joins in, saying some things that seem to really piss off your dad, but you can't hear much over the blood rushing in your ears. Sometimes these two could be so embarrassing. When your dad pulls out the golden fiddle, you nearly die laughing. (He still wasn’t over losing that one time!) Everything comes to a head, with the two men yelling insults in each other's faces, when suddenly-

“It’s ME!” A woman barges in through the lobby doors, yelling and calling herself Mimzy. She’s blonde, and dressed like a flapper. Alastor seems to recognize her, so you don’t worry. 

Later that night, when your dad has finally agreed to help your sister get that meeting, you all settle onto the couches, making a game plan. Alastor sits beside you, one foot resting on the other knee. You lean over and ask softly, “What did you say during that song, anyway?”

Alastor’s grin sharpens, and he presses his lips near your ear, again. “Charlie calls me dad, and your eldest calls me Daddy.”

If you nearly choke on your own spit, you refuse to admit it. 

[aryadelvich]

hii... Well, I'm on vacation at the beach and I'm really terrified of the sea, I'm anxious that a wave will drag me away or that I'll be too stupid to swim and I want to know if you can please write something where Luigi comforts me and helps me overcome my fear during the vacation...

Hiii! Sorry for the late reply. I’m guessing you’re not on vacation anymore, but you can keep this for the next time you go to the beach. Hope it helps! 💕💕

If you’re looking for more of my work here’s an Updated Masterlist

The view was magical. You were sitting on the beautiful white sand, and to your left stood the famous Mauna Kea mountain. Luigi and you had gone on a trip to Hawaii, and every moment together felt like a dream.

Before leaving, a slight anxiety had lingered in your mind. You and Lu had only been together for a few months, and you wondered if spending 24 hours a day together would become tiresome, if being so close all the time would create tension. Of course, there were small arguments from time to time, but nothing serious. Luigi was a sweetheart, always attentive.

He was the one who planned the outings, found the best restaurants, and organized the itineraries. He knew how to solve any problem that arose and always made sure you had eaten and drunk enough. Every morning, before you were even fully awake, he would place a steaming cup of coffee by your bedside along with a light breakfast, knowing that you struggled to eat too early.

When you walked along the beach, he made sure the sun wasn’t too harsh on your skin, carefully applying sunscreen to you every two hours with gentle, precise movements. If he noticed you squinting under the bright light, he would bring you a hat without saying a word.

And then, there were those little gestures that made all the difference. Like this morning when he had slipped out quietly to bring back your favorite snack, spam musubi, and tucked it into your bag without a word. It wasn’t until midday, when your stomach started to growl, that you found it. He watched you with an amused smile as you devoured it, entertained by your enthusiasm.

He reassured you, made you laugh, and shared countless anecdotes every time you visited a place or monument. But more than anything, he helped you face your fears.

Unfortunately, you were terrified of the ocean. The thought of the waves pulling you away, the current being too strong, not having enough energy to swim, or having a panic attack in the middle of the water filled you with anxiety. At first, you hadn’t admitted this fear to him, but over time, Luigi had noticed.

"You’re not coming to swim?" he asked, curious.

"No, I’m just going to stay under the umbrella and read a book."

Luigi narrowed his eyes slightly, unconvinced.

"But I want to swim with you. What if we pretended to be mermaids? Or even better, what if we went diving off that little hill over there?"

He pointed to a small rocky formation where vacationers were taking turns jumping into the crystal-clear water.

"Sorry, Lu, I…"

You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. It was hard to admit.

"Is something wrong? Since the beginning of the trip, you’ve only dipped your feet in the water and nothing more," he asked, this time more concerned.

You bit your lip before taking a deep breath.

"Promise me you won’t make fun of me?"

Luigi frowned, as if the very idea of mocking you was absurd. But quickly, his expression softened, becoming reassuring.

"Never. Tell me, I’m listening."

"I’m afraid of the sea…"

He immediately placed a comforting hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles on your skin.

"Oh, I see… Is there a particular reason, or is it just an instinctive fear?"

"Just like that… I swear I’d love to have fun in the water with you, but I just can’t. I’m too scared. I’m afraid the waves will pull me away, that I’ll be too anxious to swim, and as soon as I can’t feel the ground under my feet, I panic."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gently pulled you closer to him. He pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in a tender voice:

"You don’t have to justify yourself."

He held you a little tighter, as if to shield you from the fear that haunted you. With Luigi, you knew you never had to force yourself, that he would never judge you. He wouldn’t rush you; he would take his time, with you, at your own pace.

Luigi kept holding you, letting the silence settle for a few moments. He wasn’t trying to minimize your fear or force you. He was thinking, searching for the best way to help you without pushing you too hard.

Then, gently, he asked:

"What if we went in together, just up to our knees? No further. We’ll take it slow."

You hesitated. The very idea of going deeper into the water made you anxious, but Luigi was there. There had never been anyone you trusted more.

"You promise we’ll go slowly?"

"Promise. I’ll stay by your side the whole time. And if you want to stop, we’ll stop."

You nodded timidly, and he stood up before extending his hand to you. You took it, and together, you walked toward the shoreline.

The first waves lapped at your feet, and your heart immediately started racing. Luigi felt it and squeezed your hand a little tighter.

"Look at me, not the water. Breathe slowly… inhale… exhale… There, just like that."

You followed his rhythm, focusing on his eyes rather than the waves. You moved forward slowly, and soon, the water reached your knees.

"You’re incredible," Luigi murmured with a smile. "Look at everything you’re already doing."

You looked down and realized that despite the fear twisting your stomach, you were really there, in the water, much further than you had ever imagined possible.

"I… I’m doing it," you whispered, almost in disbelief.

Luigi nodded. "Yes. And what if we went just a tiny bit further? Just so the water reaches our waists. I’ll hold you."

Slowly, you moved forward. Whenever your anxiety spiked, Luigi stopped and reassured you. He told you ridiculous anecdotes to distract you, making you laugh. And as time passed, the fear seemed to fade.

"Now, hold onto me," he said, turning to face you. "I’m going to show you something."

He slid his hands under your arms and encouraged you to float. You resisted at first, but he supported you, never letting go.

"Trust the water, let it carry you… You don’t have to do anything, just breathe. I’m here."

Then, slowly, you let go of the tension, and your body floated on the surface. The warm water surrounded you, the sky stretched above you, and for the first time… you didn’t feel fear, just an immense sense of freedom.

As you finally floated, rocked by the water, a sudden euphoria overtook you. You had done it. After years of fear, you were there, in the ocean, and you no longer felt like you were in danger.

You turned your head toward Luigi, who was watching you with a radiant smile.

"You did it," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride.

A wave of emotion washed over you, and without thinking, you straightened up suddenly and threw yourself into his arms. But in your enthusiasm, your weight pushed against him, causing him to slip slightly underwater.

"Mmmph!"

Luigi briefly sank before resurfacing, spitting out a bit of water, his soaked hair sticking to his forehead.

"Oh my god, Lu! I’m so sorry!" you exclaimed, panicked.

He shook his head, laughing, wiping water from his face. "No, no, it’s fine! You’re just stronger than you look!" he teased, his hands still on your waist, keeping you steady.

You pouted guiltily. "I just wanted to thank you… not drown you."

He chuckled softly and pressed a hand against your cheek. "If that’s how you thank me, I’m willing to sink over and over again."

You blushed slightly before kissing him again, more gently this time. He kissed you back tenderly, his arms wrapping around you without hesitation.

"Alright, now that you can float, are you ready for our next challenge?" he asked with a mischievous smile.

You raised an eyebrow. "What challenge?"

"Swimming to that hill and jumping with me."

You playfully smacked his shoulder. "Don’t push your luck, Mangione."

"Okay, okay. But admit it, you’re a little tempted…"

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Maybe you were.

In the evening, after a long day of excursions, he pulled you close into the hammock of your bungalow, gently rocking you with the tip of his foot. His hand traced soothing circles on your back as he whispered sweet words into your ear. He knew exactly how to calm you, how to reassure you, how to make this trip not just an escape, but a precious memory to cherish forever.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

She thought that coming up the hill would be the hardest part, but that proves to be wrong once she’s at the top.

Max hadn’t had the courage to visit by herself. Hadn’t wanted to experience the awkwardness of being both alone and un-alone, talking to someone and no one.

Most likely no one.

She thought about buying a Ouija board, but Robin very narrowly talked her out of it.

This seemed like a better alternative anyway.

Of all the birthdays she knows her brother spent alone, held up in his room with no gifts or cake because he claimed to not care about that shit, she figured that he shouldn’t get to choose this time.

So, there’s a blanket spread out on the grass with an unopened cake from Melvald’s on top, and a bouquet of flowers.

“Man, he would’ve called this gay,” Steve muses.

He leans against his hand, legs semi-stretched beside him, admiring the inscription on the headstone like it’s nothing more than a rock with writing on it.

And maybe, to him, it isn’t.

Max huffs a laugh, but it’s clipped near the end. Heavy, when her throat bobs, and she nods as tears slip down her cheeks.

“He’d call me a shithead and probably still try to steal a slice when nobody was looking,” Max says with a chuckle.

Steve huffs amusedly and shrugs.

“He was a funny guy.”

His gaze wanders off as he tugs some blades of grass up from the ground, snapping and sprinkling them into a small pile at his side with his free hand.

The finality to his words has Max’s brows drawing together.

She often wonders if, maybe, she and Steve never clicked for a reason, and if she probably shouldn’t have invited him up here when Robin suggested it.

Trust me, she had said. Take Steve, if you take anyone.

“Guess so,” Max murmurs.

Her eyes wander down to the cake sitting between them, blank, just as it was on the shelf. She wipes her eyes and thinks about reaching out to pop the plastic lid off when Steve shifts.

“Wasn’t really big on sweets,” he says.

Max blinks at him.

“What?”

“Billy,” Steve says, glancing over at her and gesturing vaguely to the headstone. “He didn’t like sweets.”

She stares for a long moment, searching her mind for a protest. Comes up blank when she tries to think of the two of them getting ice cream or something together, but she can’t recall him ever ordering anything for himself.

Across the blanket, Steve hums amusedly and smiles to himself, fiddling with a single grass blade between his fingers.

��He liked the apple pie at the diner, though. With a scoop of plain vanilla ice cream.”

“You guys went to the diner together?”

Steve’s face flushes a light pink and he shrugs again.

“Yeah? Quite a bit, actually. I think they still have his senior photo up by the register. Guy could demolish a burger.”

Max’s eyes mist over again, but she chews her lip and nods. Pushes a hand through her hair and turns her gaze down toward the blanket.

“I always thought he was, like, out partying or something.”

“We partied,” Steve admits. Shifts and lays down on his side, propping his head up in his hand. “But we usually… found somewhere quiet and just talked. Sometimes at the diner, sometimes the quarry, I think even the pool once or twice.”

He suppresses a grin as he thinks to himself, lightly nudging his sneaker against the stone. Like he’s unaware that it’s even there.

The line between Max’s brows deepens.

“If you guys were so close, then why weren’t you at his funeral?” she snaps.

Immediately, she cups a hand over her mouth, eyes widening as Steve glances at her again.

His brown eyes grow bigger for just a moment.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. A new heat rises to the surface of his skin, eyes becoming glassy. “Felt like maybe I wasn’t supposed…” he pauses to clear his throat before continuing, “I, ah, visit a lot, though.”

“You do?” Max blurts.

Steve nods. Nudges the slightly older, more brittle bouquet lying next to the fresh one with the tip of his shoe.

“Who do you think leaves the flowers?”

With her hand still clamped over her mouth, Max stares at him again.

“How often do you come here?”

“Oh, just… whenever,” he says. “Maybe like three or more times a week?”

“Three or more times a week?”

Now, Steve sits up, brows drawing together.

“What’s your deal? If I knew you were gonna freak out and yell at me about everything I say, I wouldn’t have agreed to come up here.”

Max holds her hands out in front of her.

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she says. Sighs and rubs a hand over her face. “I guess I just… I dunno, we were never close, but I kinda always thought I knew him best. Now I’m finding out you guys were apparently linked at the hip, and he never… I didn’t even know he didn’t like sweet stuff…”

Her skin grows hot and her eyes well with tears again. Chapped and boiling over.

Steve’s expression relaxes, and he drops his shoulders.

“He wasn’t just secretive with you. Most of what I learned about him was just by observing,” Steve reassures. Then chuckles. “He was always calling me these stupid nicknames, and the one time I called him something back — angel face — he flipped and yelled at me. No idea why.”

Max sniffles and wipes her eyes with her palms, accepting the small bundle of napkins when Steve passes it over to her.

“Angel face?” she asks.

Suddenly, Steve looks away bashfully.

“Dunno, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing I said. He hated it, so I never used nicknames again.”

Max shakes her head, which earns a puzzled look.

“He didn’t hate nicknames,” she says. Glances briefly at the headstone and then away again. “Angel face is what his mom called him.” It feels like a betrayal, to say it out loud, and Max winces. “I overheard Neil mention it in their arguments once or twice.”

She fiddles with her pant leg in her lap for a moment. Looks up to see Steve’s eyes nearly overflowing with tears, staring at the headstone.

“Oh,” he croaks.

The sight, the sound of his voice has Max’s throat going tight.

She shifts in place. Watches as Steve takes a shaky breath and reaches up to wipe his eyes with the heel of his palm. Then, she’s pushing herself up and shuffling across the blanket on her knees, reaching her arms around his shoulders.

At first, he doesn’t react. Then there’s an arm stretching around her back.

Hugging him is exactly like she thought it would be. Like he’s comforting her, and not the other way around. Steady, grounding, like she knows him to be for others.

She makes a mental note to thank Robin later on.

“He really was a funny guy.”

[fairykingjing]

Trafalgar Law X F Reader - Do Barmaids Belong with Pirates?

Here's that Law fic I promised, got another Zoro one coming later this week! Enjoy friends!

Summary: It’s the morning after a night of fun with a pirate captain who frequented the bar you work at. Only you realize you’re still on his submarine, and they already left town.

Warnings: morning after sex fic, both reader and Trafalgar Law are drugged with an aphrodisiac, intimacy is implied to have happened but nothing explicit is stated, angst, fluff at the end

WC: 1841

You wake up with a groan, your head pounding from one too many drinks last night. You expect to see sunlight streaming through a window, but you find yourself in a cool, dark room. There’s a chill in the air as you realize you don’t have your clothes on. You get up and fumble for a light switch, just to see that you are still on the Polar Tang, and metal walls surround you. Memories of last night come flooding back, and you recall some of what happened.

Trafalgar Law and his crew had come by your bar again, ready to unwind with a round of drinks. Every time he visited your island, you felt his eyes staring at you wherever you went, but you never tried to say anything. A pirate captain of his caliber was not someone you wanted to mess with. His crew had been goading him into asking you out, apparently he had a thing for you, not that you ever would have known. He was a very attractive man, but a barmaid from a small island had no business being with a man like him. Still, you were friendly with him and his crew, a little flirty even, and after your shift ended they invited you to join them.

Someone had shoved a drink in both yours and Law’s hands, and you both downed them without question. That’s where everything gets fuzzy. You remember feeling heated, and you could no longer keep your eyes off Law. He was feeling the same. You recalled walking back towards his submarine, and after that it goes a bit blank. You scrunch your face in concentration, trying to remember any small detail, but you can’t. It’s at this point you see that your clothes are in a pile on the floor and you scramble to put them on. You put two and two together and figure that the two of you must have had sex, and he just left you to find your own way off his ship. Pulling the door open, you make your way towards the closest sound of voices.

As you step out into what appears to be the control room, you feel all eyes shoot to you, and a collective “oh shit” is shared among the crew.

“D-does Law know you’re here?” someone asked.

“I… I don’t really know,” you answered. “I don’t even know what happened last night after I boarded the sub. Everything’s foggy.”

“Well we better find out quickly, because we left port over an hour ago!” they exclaimed.

“What!?” you shouted.

Suddenly a strong presence was felt, and you turned timidly to see that Trafalgar Law had entered the room. “What’s with all the commotion?” he demanded. He scanned the room, eyes landing on you and widening in realization. You were still on his ship. He had meant to wake you up when he did, but he had an urgent matter to attend to, and he completely forgot you were there.

“Shit,” he groaned. “This cannot be happening right now.” He walked over to you and pulled you aside. “Look, I don’t know what happened last night, but I suspect someone on my crew used a lust potion on us. I’m sorry, but we’re on a tight schedule to get somewhere so we can’t turn around to drop you off. You’ll have to stay on board until we can get to another island and book you passage back to your home.”

“Uh, okay, that’s fine… I guess…” you said quietly. You were too flustered to argue or demand he take you back now. And what’s this about a lust potion? How long would you be stuck on his ship?

“Since this is mine and my crew’s fault, we’ll provide room and board, and we’ll figure out passage back to your island when we can,” he explained.

You could only nod your head before he whipped around to his crew and began scolding them. “Who the hell put a lust potion in our drinks last night?” he demanded.

“I-it was me, c-captain.,” someone stammered. “But we all had the idea! We know you’ve had your eyes on her for a while now but you refused to say anything to her. S-so we decided to take matters into our own hands.”

“Did any of you stop to consider whether or not my feelings were reciprocated?” Law sighed, rubbing his temples. “Or did you just assume she felt the same way.”

The same way? So he does have feelings for me, you thought to yourself.

“I.. well, she was being pretty flirty with you, so we assumed she did,” someone else answered.

“She’s a barmaid! It’s her job to be flirty! Especially with pirate captains who might have a lot of money,” Law explained.

You were left standing there awkwardly, not sure if you should leave the room or not. It seemed clear that Law did at one point express feelings for you. And while it was true that you were flirty with all the men at the bar (you had to make a living somehow, can they blame you?) you always felt it was different with Law. Still, you weren’t dumb enough to think there was anything special going on. Every interaction was a transaction, and you knew it. Or at least you thought you did. If Law had feelings for you, should you say something?

You cleared your throat and eyes turned to you again, and it was almost like Law forgot you were there a second time. “Fuck, sorry,” Law said quickly. “Bepo will get you set up with somewhere to sleep, and find you a change of clothes.” With that he quickly stormed out of the room, and you were left standing there awkwardly again.

“Sorry about all this,” the Mink you would come to know as Bepo spoke up. “C’mon, let’s get your stuff sorted out.” The two of you left the control room, down a long hallway as he pushed open the door to a small room with a bed in the corner. It wasn’t much, but it would do. “This is just a spare room, but it should suit your needs for now. There’s a change of clothes on the bed, but they might not fit you.”

“That’s okay, I can make do,” you assured. Stepping into the room, you quickly shut the door and peeled yesterdays clothes off. A shower would have been nice, but given the circumstances you won’t complain. You put on the spare clothes, just a plain gray shirt and some long black pants, but they fit you well enough. As you exited the room, you saw that Bepo was waiting for you.

“How about I give you a quick tour of the sub?” he offered. “Then we can get some food.”

“Sounds good to me!” you agreed. He led you along the sub, pointing out areas you could go, and the ones you were strictly to avoid.

“This is Captain Law’s office. Definitely don’t want to go in there,” he cautioned. “Honestly, it might be best if you just avoid him for now.”

“Yeah, he seems like he could use some space…” you nodded in agreement. As you turned to walk away, the door to Law’s office swung open and he stepped out. You squeaked and shrunk back, not wanting to be near him until you had sorted out your feelings, and not sure if he was still pissed off from earlier.

“Ah, there you are, would you mind stepping into my office for a chat?” he asked calmly. You nodded, and stepped into his office nervously. He called out a thanks to Bepo and shut the door, strolling over to his desk. He motioned for you to sit in the chair opposite him, and feeling as though you had no choice, you sat. Taking in your surroundings, you noticed his office was immaculately kept, neat stacks of papers in piles around the room, and several filing cabinets with a variety of labels, several indicating they contained medical records of his crew. “Now, to discuss a plan for getting you back to-”

“Do you like me?” you blurted out. Your face flushed in embarrassment as you realized what you just said.

“Why would you ask me that?” Law questioned. “We really need to get back to-”

“Just answer the damn question, Law,” you demanded. “Please. I know what I heard...”

He frowned, clearly you were not willing to back down from this. Figuring truth was the best option, he answered. “Yes, I’ve found myself drawn to you. Every time my crew and I visit the island, I can’t help but go to the bar you work at. Something about you catches my eye. Does that answer your question?” Now his own face is flushing. He certainly didn’t want to say any of this stuff to you, despite its truth, but he was between a rock and a hard place with nowhere else to go.

“Y-yes, it does,” you reply. “Why did you never tell me?

“Because what would a barmaid want with a pirate?” he answers dryly. “Besides, you have plenty of men who come and go, you can always find someone else.”

“Oh…” you said softly. “I never wanted to tell you anything either, because what would a pirate want with a barmaid? You have plenty of other islands to go to, you can always find someone else.” You looked down at your feet, wishing you were anywhere but here.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “I could find someone else. But I don’t want someone else.” He stood up now, walking out from behind the desk and over to you. You stood up too, looking up at him nervously.

“W-who do you want then?” you whispered. You swallowed thickly, anticipating his response. You wouldn’t believe it until you heard it from his mouth.

“You, obviously,” he chuckled. He brought his hand up to softly caress your cheek, and before you could say anything else he pulled you in for a soft kiss. You were surprised, you never would have expected this, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, deepening it. Moments later, you heard cheers coming from the doorway to his office, and you both pulled back with a startled laugh.

“I guess this saves you the trouble of telling your crew?” you offered.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way to look at it.” he sighed. He would have to have a talk with his crew later about the importance of privacy. But that could wait.

“So, about that passage back to my island…” you began. “Is it too late to change my mind?”

“Of course not,” Law reassured. “I think it’ll be nice having you on the sub.”

“It sure will!” Bepo cheered. He ran in to pull the two of you into a big bear hug. You let out a squeal at the surprise hug, but you smiled big. You thought barmaids didn’t belong with pirates, but maybe this once, she could.

[pages-and-stages]

"Fuck you."

Have some Curze being... hopefully in character, around his favorite prostitute in a world where he has one.

Tw: smut, noncon, and fear

"I'll never fuck you."

Not only had he misunderstood her, completely, he had also lied. Currently, she was pressed up against the wall, a clawed hand holding her head still while he nipped at her lips and tongue.

"Useless fucking whore," he snarled. Damn, if that didn't send a bolt of heat between her legs. While it was true, she was a whore for money, she wouldn't say she was completely useless. I mean, she was pleasuring the Night Haunter, right?

She had been pleasuring him, in fact. For weeks. Temperamental motherfucker that he was, he was also her favorite regular. That cock? And watching the nightmare come undone in front of her? And again, that cock-

Speaking of, it twitched in her hands, and she ever so gently swirled her thumb around its head, listening to him pant as he thrust into her hand. "Do that again," he growled.

"What? This?" She twisted her hand again, running the thumb under the swollen head. He keened, biting a little harder than she'd wanted. The taste of her own blood filled her mouth.

"I need you," he growled. "Now."

"Well, it's your money, so you have me."

Now, I feel like this is a good time to point out that she had never been thoroughly fucked by him before. It was always dry, him fingering her, and her either rubbing him off or sucking him off, sometimes both. He always made sure to return her "favors".

But when he picked her up, and tossed her onto the bed? Well, that was new. Not that she was complaining. As much as she loved those fingers, she wanted his cock inside of her.

However, she was the goods, he was the buyer. She couldn't tell him what to do, but it seemed tonight he wanted more than a simple handjob. His mouth was on hers before she could ask what changed, pinning her down.

"M-my-" She couldn't get a word out edgewise, he wouldn't let her.

"Shut up." She was used to his growling by now, but this? This was too dark, too dangerous. She was scared, now. Reaching into her stocking, she drew a small, thin knife. Maybe he was just…too into this?

Making to slice a thin line in his back, her hand was caught. Lord Curze peeled away from her, his eyes wide. She took deep breaths, trying to catch the air before it left again. Her hand shook in his tight grasp, and he sat back, letting her go.

She sat up, wiping her mouth. "What the hell?!" She demanded.

Curze bowed his head. "I was angry," he said shyly.

"At me??"

"Why were you about to hurt me?"

She looked down, fidgeting with her knife. "You scared me," she whispered. "You- we didn't-nothing was talked about. You went outside the terms of the contract."

The lord looked down, and if she didn't know better, she'd say he looked bashful. "That was- forgive me, I was too caught up in myself."

She stood up, walking to her vanity. Heat still pulsed between her legs, and she could feel his eyes tracking her. "What was it this time?" She slotted the cigarette in between her teeth, lighting it. For a second, she stared at the flames, before putting her lighter out and taking a breath.

"Must you?" he grumbled.

"Answer my question." She didn't know why he took orders from her. Half the time, after giving each other handjobs, his visits became therapy sessions. Lucky her, she guessed. And those times, he took orders, like she was supposed to.

"My brothers," he admitted. "They want to…they think I shouldn't be a part of the crusade."

She blew smoke out of her nostrils. "So leave the crusade, then. Let them warmonger, and you can…rule this shit hole of a planet, I guess."

"I'm also feeling…something new, around you."

"That's called a boner, and I wouldn't say it's new." She sat back, crossing her legs. Lord Curze looked at her.

"No, warm. Safe. I don't know what you're doing to me, whore, but-." He cut himself off, picking at her carpet. She debated telling him off. "I think I like, how you make me feel."

She shrugged. "Pay for longer sess-"

"I'm in love with you."

She choked on the next drag of her cigarette. "Subtle, asshole."

"I am."

"I don't think you get to call me a whore and then say you love me in the span of 3 minutes."

"What's your name, then?" So, she gave him her name, casually. And then he called it. "I want your hand in marriage."

"Slow down there."

"No." He shook his head. "Please, you make me better. Please?"

Not wanting to die, she agreed. The urge to live was much better than the desire to not be mocked by the noble born or his brothers.

[retrowitchy]

haymitch takes everlark & co. (meaning the geese) to visit lenore dove's grave

ever wondered what it might look like if the mockingjay epilogue was extended just a little bit to include a whole random bit where haymitch takes two kids and nine geese into the woods by the lake to show them a bunch of dead people's graves? well wonder no more!!!

*✴︎+ take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die on ao3

It’s been about a year since we all came back to 12. In that year, I feel like I have grown old so much faster than I ever have before. It’s easy to remember some parts of it all, and hard to recall others. Peeta’s doctor says that’s how trauma works. Sometimes you forget, because remembering is just too hard. And sometimes, I don’t want to remember any of it.

Time has passed, but the three of us, Haymitch, Peeta and I, have settled into a routine with each other unlike anything we ever had before the second Quarter Quell. Honestly, it’s more out of necessity than anything- the nightmares are too hard for any of us to bear in an empty house. We tried living separately for a while, but it felt stupid, each of us alone while we all lived next door to each other. I insisted on staying with Haymitch almost immediately after they came back. I might have been too stubborn to admit the comfort I found in his company before, but it would be ridiculous to deny that now. He and I mean a lot to other. I guess we always have, or we have since this all started.

It took a little while, and a lot of convincing, but after he felt like the risk of hurting me was gone, Peeta moved in too. He was terrified that he’d relapse, have some shutdown that resulted in him strangling me again, but I didn’t care. I missed him more than almost anything. All the time I had spent, hiding in vents and crying to Haymitch and Gale and my mother and Prim when he was being held hostage in the Capitol, it shouldn’t be for nothing, I had said. I needed him to come home. And he did, eventually.

It’s good for us all. Peeta and I stay upstairs, and Haymitch is down the hall. Most mornings we eat together, something Peeta made and I hunted, and then we spend our days doing whatever we feel like. A couple months ago, we got Haymitch some goose eggs, so now he has something to do with his time instead of sitting around in the house all day. They’re rebuilding the Hob, too. And the Meadow is starting to grow back.

One day, when spring has started to seep into the ground, and gets to the point where you can smell it in the breeze, Peeta comes into the fireside room, where Haymitch is asleep clutching a bottle of his white liquor and I am busy working on a letter to Annie.

I don’t look up from my writing. “What, Peeta?”

He chuckles, and then comes to sit down, on the couch next to me.

“What are you working on?”

I don’t like my scratchy penmanship, especially compared to Peeta’s neat cursive, but I hand over the letter.

“I’m trying to be better about writing people. Annie asked us to send more, and you’re always the one who does them, so…” I trail off, getting mumbly and feeling kind of dumb. He’s looking it over.

“This is sweet, Katniss,” he says, scanning it with a little smile at the corner of his mouth. I snatch it back.

“Okay, time’s up. I don’t want you to read the whole thing,” I say, feeling my cheeks going pink. He laughs.

“Okay, okay. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

I fold the paper in half and tuck it aside. I’ll finish it later.

“What did you come in here to say?” I ask, as I put away my pens.

“Does there really have to be a reason?” he asks.

“Yes. You never stand in the doorway like that unless you have something you’re trying to pitch to us,” I say, glancing at Haymitch, who is snoring slightly across the room.

“Not a pitch,” he says, smiling. “Just wanted to see if you guys were up for a picnic.”

Haymitch opens one eye lazily. Guess he wasn’t as dead to the world as I thought.

“And why would we do that when we’re having a perfectly enjoyable time right now?” he asks, not moving from his armchair. I look to Peeta.

“Because it’s nice out,” Peeta says calmly.

“Nice inside too,” counters Haymitch.

“The geese could get some exercise?” Peeta offers. Haymitch closes his eyes and lets out a ridiculous long grumble.

“Fine,” he says. “But I’m not contributing a damn thing. I’ll bring the kids and that’s it.”

“Katniss?” Peeta looks to me for confirmation I will go along with this plan.

“Sure,” I say. “Anything to get Haymitch out of that armchair.”

“You’re on thin ice, girl, you’d better watch out,” he says threateningly, as he stands up with a grunt and heads toward the kitchen with his bottle.

“Or what?” I call after him, getting no response, and rolling my eyes with a half smile. I kiss Peeta’s forehead quickly and stand up, clutching my letter. “I’ll get a basket.”

“Sounds good,” he says with a smile.

The basket is not for picnic food, which we both know. Whenever we take trips out to the Meadow, Peeta likes to collect some of the flowers and bring them back for the house. I like it too, because it means I can hunt for plant life that we might have missed for the nature book. It’s a rarer occurrence these days, since we’ve almost filled up the entire thing, but you never know.

I grab an empty basket from the top of the pantry, stopping only to pop a few tomatoes into my mouth, and then start digging around in the cabinets for the nature book. Usually, it stays upstairs with me and Peeta, because I like to look at it before going to sleep sometimes, but we were working on it in the kitchen yesterday and I am pretty sure it’s here.

“Hey, bring the memory book while you’re at it,” Haymitch says, making me jump. I turn around, getting hair stuck in my mouth, and spit it out.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because. Never know when you’ll come across a good piece of information for that thing,” he says, vaguely. He’s acting kind of weird and I’m trying to place why, but I’m coming up short. I don’t think I said anything to really set him off this morning. Whatever, I think.

“Okay.” I grab the journal from its place on the kitchen bookshelf, and the nature book is right next to it, so I grab that too, and stick them both in my basket.

After helping Peeta pack some food, we head out.

There’s a few spots we gravitate to in the Meadow, but Haymitch has the geese, so we let him take the lead. It’s amazing how attached he’s gotten to them in the last couple of months- and even more amazing how attached they’ve gotten to him. Once, when it was snowing, I caught him nursing one of them in his arms by the fire inside. He got pretty angry with me, growling curses and insults, but I could tell he was trying not to disturb the gosling because he kept his volume low. I know the geese are important to him not just because he secretly has a heart, but also because of his old girlfriend, somebody Snow killed after his Games.

When he told me and Peeta about Lenore Dove, it was a surprise. We hadn’t been working on the book at all. It was a late night in November, and we were all trying to figure out the central heating system in the house- something I maintain is a ridiculous luxury, although nice- and then when we had all found the switch that controls it, he said, “I never actually told you about her, did I?”.

“Who, Haymitch?” Peeta had asked, while fiddling with the switch.

“My girl.”

Haymitch had mentioned her to me once before, in 13, but Peeta had never even heard of her until then. He told us about her, how she belonged to a people called the Covey, who didn’t even exist in 12 by the time Peeta and I were kids. After he won his Games, defying the Capitol in every possible way he could while doing so, Snow had her and his family murdered. Apparently, she used to herd geese. That’s why we got him the eggs.

The goslings huddle and quack around Haymitch like he’s their mother or something. It always makes Peeta laugh, and he points at one of them that keeps falling behind and trying to catch up, and then hitting Haymitch’s boot when it does.

“Poor guy,” Peeta says, as the baby hits his foot again, and Haymitch shakes his leg slightly to ward him off.

“They need to learn to make friends with each other, not with him,” I say. The geese are desperate for Haymitch’s attention.

“Or we could set them up with Buttercup,” Peeta suggests jokingly.

“Yeah. And he’d eat them all,” I respond. I am not kidding. More than once, I have caught him trying to sneak inside their pen.

“He’s gotten more friendly with them, though, right?” Peeta protests, grinning at my stubborn refusal to say anything nice about that cat.

“Maybe. So he can trick them into trusting him,” I say. He laughs at me, and despite myself, I crack a smile, swinging the basket as we walk.

We reach the edge of our usual tree, but Haymitch isn’t stopping.

“Are we going to the lake?” I call to him.

“Something like that,” he replies, not bothering to turn around. I didn’t know he knew about the lake, but there’s a lot I’m finding out about Haymitch that I didn’t know.

But we don’t stop at the lake- we follow him around it, to the bank across the way. I can tell Peeta needs a breather- his prosthetic leg doesn’t do great with long distances.

“Haymitch, we have to stop a minute,” I tell him, signaling to Peeta to stop.

“Almost there,” is all he says in response, and that gets an eye roll from me.

“I’m fine, Katniss, it’s okay,” says Peeta.

“No, you’re not, you have to rest,” I say, and it comes out slightly more forcefully than I meant it. I clear my throat. “Sorry. I just mean I don’t want your leg acting up. Haymitch, seriously-”

But Haymitch is already leading his gaggle of geese into the humid patch of mossy wood next to the bank.

“Fine,” I yell to him, since he’s a pretty good distance away already. “We’re staying here!”

“Fine!” he yells back, and disappears into the woods. Good riddance.

“Sit, Peeta,” I say, and crouch down along the muddy bank next to him. We rest, letting our boots squelch in the sticky mud around our feet and trailing our fingers through it absentmindedly. Peeta is proud when he finds some katniss root, and I rinse it off and put it in our collecting basket.

When I stand, there something white and flowering at the edge of the trees that catches my eye.

“Stay here a minute,” I tell Peeta. “I’m just collecting something for the book.”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s happy digging for katniss, and even though Peeta alone in the woods makes me anxious, I don’t feel too bad leaving him for a second here.

I stomp through the muddy grass to where the tree line starts and am disappointed to find that the white flower is just a clematis vine- something we definitely already have in the nature book. I squat down next to it to pick off some of the blossoms for Peeta, when I hear the honking of the geese not too far away.

“Haymitch?” I call, but there’s no response except the continued honking. I glance back at Peeta on the bank, but he’s okay, so I decide to find Haymitch.

Curious, I wander through the forest, following a trail that is marked out only by the muddy boot indents in the grass he made minutes ago, and otherwise untouched. It doesn’t take me very far to reach a clearing, surrounded by tall water birch trees and shaded so well I know they must have grown here hundreds of years ago. In the center of the clearing, there is a small graveyard.

Haymitch sits on a boulder a respectful distance away from the graves, surrounded by his geese, and just looks up mildly.

“Followed my footprints, did you?” he asks, but there’s not as much snark dripping from that sentence as there normally might be.

“What is this place?” I ask, trying to process how serene he looks with nine white birds nested and clucking around him peacefully.

“Covey graveyard,” is all he says.

Covey graveyard. This is something I did not expect. I look closer at the headstones and see that they are all engraved.

“Go ahead,” he says, gesturing, inviting me to investigate. Obediently, I go over to the different stones and start to read. As I take in each one, I am quickly picking up that they all reference a different song, and the rock is as close a color match as possible to the name of the Covey member buried there. Some seem like they were erected in the last 50 years, and others feel like they might have been here for centuries, so grown over with moss you can barely read them.

“You’re related to them, you know,” Haymitch comments from his boulder. I quickly turn to him.

“What?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Your dad. He was a distant relative, so you got Covey in your blood. Figures how you got those pipes.”

This is something I have never considered before in my life. My father, related to the Covey? Meaning that I too, am connected to this legacy. I stare at him, gaping.

“I always wondered how she could sing like that.”

Haymitch and I both start, and Peeta is standing at the opening of the clearing, looking a little apologetic.

“Sorry,” he says, both in reference to startling us and the fact that I told him to stay. “Haymitch, is Lenore Dove buried here?”

Why didn’t I think of this? I am an idiot. Of course this is why we are here. Haymitch just nods his head to a stone by my foot.

“Read that one,” he says. Peeta comes over to me and crouches down in front of the stone, examining it.

“’But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, and the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ‘Lenore?’ This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!” Merely this and nothing more’,” he reads, solemnly and slowly and much better than I could have.

There’s a silence in the breeze, and for a moment, it feels like the forest has stopped moving, the world has stopped working, in respect for Lenore Dove and her lyrical epitaph. I look over and I see Haymitch, absentmindedly stroking the head of one of the geese with a faint smile on his face and watching Peeta with a vaguely misty expression.

“Is this why you wanted us to come here?” I ask. “To visit her grave?”

“I just thought you…might like to meet her. Or…see this place, I guess,” he says, his voice gruff. “It’s sorta your birthright, in a way.”

“Katniss.” Peeta’s voice is soft and quiet at my feet. “The book.”

Realizing quickly what he’s saying, I push the basket towards him with my foot, and he pulls out our memory book, flipping to a blank page.

“Do you know anyone else buried here?” I ask Haymitch, wondering just how many of the Covey he could have hung around.

“Nah,” he says. “Well, technically, yes. Tam Amber, that yellowish stone in the back corner there, he was one of Lenore Dove’s uncles. Not by blood, but he raised her. Along with Clerk Carmine, who you saw playing at Finnick and Annie’s wedding.”

“Wait, there are Covey still alive?” This is shocking to me. And I know that fiddle player, even from before 13. I used to see him inside the Hob, playing while I traded my hunting loot on the weekends.

“Just him. He’s the last one,” Haymitch amends. I can hear the scratching of charcoal that I know to mean Peeta is marking out a sketch. I understand now why Haymitch asked me to bring the book. “He lives in the rebuilt part of town, now, actually. Him and I don’t exactly get along on the best of terms, but he is here.”

I do not know what to do with any of this information but let it settle in my brain and watch Peeta’s pencil move across the page. Suddenly, I have an idea.

I kneel down next to Peeta and the basket, and I pull out the clematis I picked earlier. Glancing at Haymitch to make sure I’m not crossing some kind of invisible boundary, I slowly set down the blossoms in front of Lenore Dove’s grave. Peeta, head down and focused on his sketch, nods his approval.

I look up to Haymitch, and he nods too, and I think there might be tears in his eyes, but I can’t completely tell.

“Is that okay?” I ask, worried for a split second.

“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “She would have liked that. She used to grow those flowers up the side of her window.”

I swallow.

“Good.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says.