#and watching it now is a dream ome true

[loveyouhomex]

The way I just got completely absorbed into Percy Jackson again after the first couple of minutes honestly says so much about the way they went about this series.

It's filled with so much love, so much detail and so so much accuracy. When Percy and Chiron walked through the camp on Ep2 and later showed the cabins, I literally teared up.

It felt like coming home.

[vivwritesfics]

Mini Me

With how shitty my life is rn, I keep having these depressive episodes. Turns out my depressive episodes breed fluff

Max's six year old son has just started karting and his wife has to take him. Boy oh boy, does he miss his wife and son.

"So, Max, can we expect to see your little one around the paddock today?"

Ever since the day he was born, Fabian Verstappen had been seen with his parents around the Formula One paddock. He was always smiling and waving at those he knew and those he didn't. Fabian Verstappen was the happiest boy around.

Max was very proud of his boy. He showed him off to whoever he could. When he was young, he sat on Max's hip while he completed interviews and such.

Fabian was Max's number one supporter (Tied only by Max's wife and Fabians mother, Y/N. She followed him around the world three times before agreeing to marry him. It was a year long engagement, and in that time Y/N found out she was pregnant. They managed to keep it hidden until after their wedding, although Y/N did have to get a dress that better fit her bump).

There was a year between Fabian being born and him being able to attend his first race. Christian was happy to get him fitted out in Red bull Racing merchandise. He got his own little hat and a too large Red bull shirt with a thirty three on it (Max had lost that years championship. Red bull had won the constructors but Max had just missed out on the WDC. Red bull had worked out the kinks in the car and Max was bound to win this year, just as he had the previous year).

This year was the first year Fabian and Y/N weren't there to cheer Max on. And interviewers certainly picked up on it.

"Uh, no," Max answered when they asked about Fabian. "He and my wife are at a karting event right now."

The interviewer gave him a nod. "Following in your footsteps perhaps?"

Letting out a laugh, Max nodded his head. "We can only hope," he said.

"Do you think we'll be seeing him in a Red bull Racing suit in the next fifteen years?"

Again, Max nodded his head. "If he's anything like his dad, he'll be in a Red bull Racing suit before that," he said and adjusted the cap on his head.

Max left the interview and checked his phone. As much as he wanted Fabian and Y/N at his race, he knew how important karting was to his son.

Max has always been Fabian's hero. His first full sentence was 'I wanna be like daddy'. Max and Y/N did whatever they could to make Fabian's dream come true.

The one thing Fabian wanted but he couldn't have was to have his daddy at his karting races, watching him. There had been a lot of screaming and crying while Max and Y/N tried to explain to him why his father couldn't be there.

But Fabian had made friends at his Karting matches. He and the other kids he had raced against got along like peas in a pod. Fabian's first ever play date was with his karting friends. Some of them had been sat with their eyes and mouths wide open while Max brought them juice. They couldn't believe he, their hero and favourite driver, was Fabian's dad.

Max pulled out his phone and checked his messages. Nothing from his wife yet, but Fabian's race should have been done, he realised when he checked the time.

Dialling her number, Max pressed his phone to his ear.

It took Y/N a moment to pick up. "Hey handsome," she said in a chipper voice when she picked up the phone. Her voice was distant and slightly distorted, and Max realised she was in the car.

"Hello, Liefje. How's our little racer?" He asked her.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Came Fabian's voice. "I won! I won! I won!" He shouted.

Well, that answered Max's question. His cheeks were warm as he smiled, listening to his son. "Ik ben zo trots op je, mijn jongen. Ik kan niet wachten om jullie twee weer te zien!" (I'm so proud of you, my boy. I can't wait to see you too again!)

There was a moment before Fabian responded. He was fluent in English and French, but he was only good at Dutch. It still took him some time before he could work out what Max was saying and respond.

"Papa, ik... heb een... trofee." (Daddy, I got a trophy.)

There was a certain sense of joy that filled Max whenever Fabian answered him in Dutch. "Fabi, make sure mommy sends me a picture of your trophy," he said.

"I will do, Maxy," Y/N responded for the little boy. "Fabi, what do we say to papa?"

Again, Fabian was quiet for a moment. "Oh!" He suddenly cried from the back of the car. "Good luck with your race, Papa! Maybe you can win like me!"

The Verstappens laughed.

"Good luck, Max. Call me after you've won."

"I will, Liefje. I love you."

"I love you too."

Max hung up the phone after that. He his qualifying to get ready for. As he got ready, though, he spent the entire time thinking about his wife and son. He checked his phone constantly, waiting for Y/N to send over the picture of Fabian and his trophy.

No father had ever been prouder of his little boy than Max. Fabian was his everything and he couldn't wait to see him in the big leagues. Who knows, maybe Max would still be racing alongside him. Maybe he'd have Horner's job, team principle of Red bull Racing while his son raced as their number one driver.

No matter what, Max would always be Fabian's number one supporter.

[oracleofapollon]

“I love you, okay? I know I don’t say it enough.” With peter please 🥺

that was such a cute concept, i feel like i didn't do it justice :(

pete x reader, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, crying, anxiety and r having mean thoughts about themself

As soon as you lock the door behind you, it becomes too much.

Too much work, too many projects, too many expectations to meet (most of the expectations you set yourself, and are pretty unrealistic). Every single thing coming towards you seems like a burden—the unmade bed or the need to think what to have for dinner. Small tasks add to the big pile of stress, uncertainty, and gradually start to envelop you, trapping you like a metal chain you can’t free yourself from.

So there you are, standing in front of the mirror, washing your hands, crying at the thought of doing the laundry. You mentally scold yourself for being overdramatic. Taking a big breath you head towards the kitchen to see what you can cook.

You never get to the kitchen, though. As soon as you see the sofa you crash onto it, stretching and yawning and fighting merciless sleep. An idea crosses your mind—you could watch silly TV programmes—but you feel too worn out to grab the remote, let alone focus on anything. So you sigh and look around, exhausted by the warmth of tears in your eyes. It makes you feel uncomfortable, on edge, dirty, in a way you can’t really explain.

Laying there, staring at the bookshelves, you notice a picture of you as a child. In the photo you were no older than 5 years, smiling at the camera, lacking two teeth. You remember the place—a park you used to live next to, the place you visited often. It was clearly summer, you were surrounded by bushes of white flowers and a cute pink hat was shielding you from the scorching sun. 

You blink once, twice. Then you burst into tears again. 

You were so sweet, so innocent, you trusted the world with everything you had. You wanted to be an adult so badly, you wanted to be a Disney star, then an astronaut, then a teacher. You couldn’t wait to be the current you.

And you really can’t take it. The way you are mean to yourself, putting so much pressure on yourself, hating everything you do. And you realize you’re hurting the little kid grinning at you from the photo. You didn’t even make any of the sweet baby’s dreams come true.

You’re shaking now, gasping for breath, sitting up to not choke on your own tears and snot. You can’t think about the picture, your youth—missing the carelessness, sweet lollipops and playing in the sand, big dreams, evenings on the swing—and blaming yourself, and the hot eyes and cheeks annoy you more than anything. You panic more when you hear the door unlock.

“I’m ho-ome!” sings your boyfriend playfully as he closes the door. You clear your throat and make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Hi, Pete,” you say in a weak voice and immediately curse at yourself when it comes out exactly like a person who was just crying.

You close the bathroom door seconds before he appears behind them. “Are you okay?” of course he notices something’s wrong. He always does. He cares for you so much, pays attention to all the details about you, takes care of your soul in the gentlest ways. You hate yourself for thinking you don’t deserve him.

“Yeah,” you reply, trying to sound confident, and failing miserably. Ripping off a piece of toilet paper you try to blow your nose as quietly as possible.

“Can I come in?” Peter’s concerned voice breaks your heart. He always wants the best for you and you always make his life a little bit harder. As if it wasn’t hard enough.

You want to say no to spare him the view, but you know him. You know he will be anxious, scared he did something wrong, terrified someone could have taken their revenge on you for being the love of Spider-Man’s life. You love him too much to keep him worried, and you would most probably do anything he asked you, ever.

“Always,” not a second passes when your eyes meet Peter’s in the mirror. His brows furrow even more when he sees your red, wet, puffy face. “Not a big deal,” you reassure him before he has a chance to open his mouth. “Jus’ havin’ a bad day.”

His shoulders drop and he comes closer. You feel his hand close to you and you are sure you’re going to cry again if he doesn’t take you in his arms. He hesitates, though. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?” he asks simply and it breaks your heart in half.

“Please, please, please do, Pete.”

Maybe you were begging. Maybe it sounded pathetic. Maybe you looked pathetic, hell, maybe you just are pathetic. But none of it matters when you get trapped in his warm embrace, strong arms around your waist and rubbing your back, his chin on the top of your head, the air he’s breathing out tickling you and slightly moving your hair. Your chests pressed together, thighs touching. You feel safe, seen, appreciated, not alone. You don’t try to fight the tears dripping down your cheeks. 

“I got overwhelmed. Anxious, insecure,” you confess, your voice muffled in his shirt. “I’m better now,” you add. “You make me feel better, always.”

Your lovely boyfriend starts to rock you two from left to right, peppering your forehead in kisses. “I’m sorry you felt that way, baby,” he says against your skin, and his mouth tickles you when it moves. You hug him closer and his grip tightens. “Mean thoughts haunt all of us sometimes. But you have a tendency of believing them,” his words are true and you know it. Embarrassed, you close your eyes, trying to ignore how wet his shirt got from your tears. “You deserve everything, you know? Everything the best, the sweetest, the loveliest in the world. Everything that brings you happiness, smile, joy. You’re too harsh on yourself.”

“I know,” you nod lazily. “It’s that way for me. Hard to be gentle to myself. I try.”

“I know,” he hums. “D’ya want some food?” he adds when your stomach grumbles.

“Mm. Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Anything you want, my lovely.”

You laugh, sniffing. “You’re corny.”

He snorts and tickles your side—strongly enough to make you squeak, softly enough so you don’t try to wiggle out of his arms. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, okay? I know I don’t say it enough.”

He says it enough to make you smile like a fool and feel all giddy. You part away from Peter slightly, just a bit, so you can kiss him hard.

[ramayantika]

Sakhi bring me a spare parchment,

I need to write to my daughter.

"Which daughter? You sent your children far away."

My eyes shine once again,

As they once did years back when I was nothing but a young girl

Who frolicked in the courtyard of the temple.

"Not them, sakhi. A daughter shall live

Who shall dance like me,

But she shall be free.

Free like how art should have been.

I see her in my dreams as she sweetly calls me 'amma'

And her feet? They always look red.

I hear her jingling ankle bells!

She sings, dances and dreams,

But fulfills her dreams unlike her mother.

I am tied. I was tied. I am going to be free soon.

My daughter is free."

And my dearest friend hands me a worn down parchment.

There is not much strength left in my hands, my pen is trembling.

However, I must write today

And let the ink dance on the parchment

For this is a dancer's story.

Which shall soon be forgotten by the world.

The world which once adored her,

Considered her auspicious, made her a goddess,

The same world made her a prostitute.

My art, my dance is now impure.

They made me dance for Shiva, and

I revered Nataraja

And now his dance is impure. Is the said God too?

Who is impure truthfully?

Dearest daughter,

I have seen you in my dreams, seen you dance.

Your two lovely agile feet capture movements so fast,

Your enchanting eyes look around everywhere, examining each thing in detail.

Observation, a skill essential for dance,

For we are storytellers and actors

And stories are found everywhere.

Look around and learn.

The world dances, you must too.

You have grown up into such a lovely woman, dearest one.

I am your mother, the mother with a tainted history

Who has nothing to bless you with

But dance, my story and wishes for

A life where you are free.

I can feel my breath turning heavy,

My vision is slowly blurring out.

Don't worry, your mother has spun

A hundred times in this glorious temple

For Him, for them, and seldomly for herself.

I can focus on the parchment for a little while longer perhaps?

Child, learn to dance for yourself too.

My beauty once praised is long lost. The jewels underneath my bed

Cannot cure me of this disease.

I have to die. I am going to my husband

As the people tell -- Shiva is my final destination.

The dance in this mortal plain has bound me,

With Shiva, I am to dance in gay abandon.

I have worshipped the gods through dance.

Shuddha Nrityam they call it,

I wish people looked at me with shuddha drishti.

I am mere seconds away now

Before the noose of Yama lands on me.

My lovely daughter, I hope your time shall be different.

I was doomed to live in the darkest chapter of nritya,

But joy shall adorn my heart when you find me.

People shall label me tainted, a very sensual woman, woman of lust,

But who taints me? What taints me?

This body which shall now perish

Holds no longer the burning lecherous gaze of lustful men.

My eyes do not see the people trying to purify me.

My ears no longer hear degraded hushed whispers of how this flesh has been touched my many.

My lips only speak your name.

I wish you were here, my child.

Let me see you once again before I depart for Shiva's abode.

Ah! Right there you are!

You were hiding from me for so long.

Don't you cry once my pen stops for,

Amma is always with you, silently watching you, silently protecting you,

Silently teaching you dance.

Find me soon, child... I hope you find me in my true form.

Be blessed! May you dance always!

Om Shanti....

********

I will post the daughter's reply to this piece ater. Now just for some context, I had written this piece I think in 2021 when I had stumbled on this topic while watching some dance documentaries. I looked through every video, read books about these hereditary dances, and did some research about the injustice meted out to them in the name of reforms and purity which ultimately had almost led the glorious dance forms of india to extinction and I had various questions, I still think I do. These women who were once rich, had their own lands and money, they were independent and well versed in various subjects apart from music and dance were now reduced to prostitution and called names.

Somewhere as I read more about them I wondered what connected us apart from the dance form. I think freedom? Maybe knowledge? The knowledge that we need to undertake as we learn dance because we don't only just copy off the movements that we learn in class.

And one night it struck me somehow. I still remember that night. I was studying for my 12th boards term 1 exam that was 2 months away I guess and it was very late at night and I kinda dozed off where I almost an epiphany like thing over this. I couldn't stop myself from writing this down. For me every artistic work, be it writing or dancing, no matter how large or small the job is, I always meditate for a while and then begin. For me whatever little experience I have had with art, it is an expression of the divine, it feels magical and is like a thread that connects me to the past and the present.

This topic is controversial. There can be countless debates over this and I am really not good with the political side of things. This piece is something from my heart as a small tribute to the endless amount of women who served dance and sustained it for as long as they could to be passed on to us even today.

[immemorymag]

“My name is Kate Omely, and I was born in Tula, Russia before moving to Moscow. I recently moved to Argentina before settling in Uruguay with my husband and son."

"I discovered my love for photography as a six year old child when I held a special Polaroid shot in my hands. It was a moment that sparked my lifelong passion for capturing moments through the lens."

"I graduated in economics due to family pressures. Luckily I was able to leave that behind and follow my dreams. I knew deep down that photography was my true path."

"Last year was a challenging period for me as I battled thyroid cancer. However, I am grateful to say that I emerged victorious from that fight. Now, with renewed vigor and a profound appreciation for life's precious moments, I continue to live, love, enjoy, and, of course, capture the beauty of the world through my photographs."

"Portraiture holds a special place in my heart. I find great joy in creating portraits that capture the emotions, experiences, and untold stories of individuals. Each person is a universe unto themselves, and through my photography, I aim to convey their unique narratives. I strive for sincerity, simplicity, aesthetics, sophistication, and authenticity. I believe that true beauty shines through when we are genuine and vulnerable."

"I also find inspiration in still-life photography. Watching light weave its magic is a source of endless fascination for me. I love experimenting with reflections, mirrors, and prisms." "Photography is my language of expression and an ongoing adventure. It allows me to capture the beauty and complexity of the world, evoking genuine emotions and inviting viewers to embark on a visual journey.”

[aylabyu]

Sleep.

A GN!Reader x ??? SFW fic

A/N: y'all, my knowledge about this character is non-existent so forgive me if I ever had any information wrong, or completely wrong. never correct I'm sure... also I wanted this fic to be gender neutral so please point out to me if there are mistakes, in this context and grammar-wise too!

[whoever guesses who this character is can tell me what they want next to be published by me! (lmao I'm acting as if I'm well-known) like they can tell me who the character/s will be in the fic, genre, some tags, things to not include, etc. I can write other fandoms... I think, but I don't generally watch most animes like MHA or JJK but I might manage..? but for games like OM! or twst, I can...! kinda,,] [still open, will edit this if it changes later on!]

.... because I have so many ideas and idk what to do first so I'll let others decide...

the moon greets the man who is looking up at it, its majestic form putting pressure on him. he was about to stand up and reluctantly leave his lover when she muttered.

"ugh, what.. time is it?" you groaned, feeling the bed dip and soft lips on your forehead.

"it's not near daybreak, go back to sleep."

"where are you going then?"

he looked at you with his gentle smile, the one where you know he'll fascinate you until you heed his wishes.

"i'm just going out for some fresh air," he simply stated.

he was brushing your hair, detangling and smoothing it down, which ultimately makes you in a trance between reality and dreamland. the latter is the winning side.

as a last resort, you threw your body at his, "you'll go off somewhere again, stay with me."

"but I am with you. you are my lover, my sweet."

"oh stop. stay with me. in bed."

you felt him softly sigh and surrendered. he fixed your sleeping position so he can put his arms around your frail body.

silence reigned, and when he heard your soft snores, he whispered, "... i'm sorry, my dear. i'm so sorry."

tears ran down his face, but he made sure they never touch your complexion. he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve tainting you, even with his tears – doesn't deserve you. his heart and soul ached for you.

he stopped when he felt a hand touch his wet cheek.

"why are you crying? who hurt my sweetheart?" you mumbled through closed eyes, still rubbing your hand on his cheek.

"it's just the water, dear. my hair is acting up again."

you started to open your eyes to see if what he said was true, but he put a hand over your vision.

"i, i am not attractive right now. please, have sweet dreams," he glided his hand over your forehead which made you close your eyes and instantly sleep.

he made sure you are in deep sleep until tomorrow when he is sure he will get the job done. time for revenge.

he got up and went out of their dwelling, meeting his friend who he called upon.

amber eyes stared at him when he saw him, "are you sure? you do know that i can't, and won't, help you."

"yes, if it is for them, i am willing to face everything. even when going against you," he looked at the steely man in front of him.

"... have no worries, i will not meddle in your retaliation. the time is near, get going. i will stay back, as promised, to take care of them until you get back."

your lover nodded, thankful for his friend's consideration, "thank you, i will be eternally grateful to you. excuse me."

both men nodded at each other, the elegant one going out to his adversary and the man with amber eyes going to you, who is slumbering incredibly deeply.

"my dear, forgive me. i love you to the moon and back, let Celestia go to hell for all i care," thunder rumbled through the night skies, as if hearing his declaration of battle.

he teleported to the entrance of this damned nation, and instead of a knock on the door, he raised his hand and let a severe flood wreak havoc upon everyone.

why would he care if innocents die? why would he care if people curse him to death? why would he care if he would die?

why?

they never cared even when you were innocent. they never cared when you were just framed so obviously, but they threw you down until your wings got torn and bloody. they never cared about you.

that should change now.

they will know of your dignified self. oh so regal and majestic, no one should even set their sights upon you – not even his own.

his gaze burned with the thought of you, itching to be within your delicate embrace and alleviating aura, but he used this fire to intensify the torrent silencing the screams of the citizens.

daybreak is near, and he should be done with the first step in his plan before it. with this, he moved on to the grand fortress with hatred in his heart.

"i have to hurry, they might wake up without me nuzzling their neck," he smiled maniacally while summoning his hydro serpents to aid him in this gratifying massacre.

[disastercg]

“The little architect, dreaming up her own world,” the entity hissed. Its phantasmal body of cosmic dust and otherworldly mist slithers around the curse-breaker. The obsidian floors underfoot bubble, then raise Inna on a precarious network of slippery beams. “You never had a solid foundation underfoot, did you?” it laughed. “Watch where you step, my dear. It’s a long, long way down.” 

𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒   |    𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇  ;  𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖺 .

inna isn’t cursed with vertigo, and normally is no stranger to walking the metaphorical plank. but when she looks down, her worldview spins on axis. she’s reminded of something; she’s reminded of her home. where she grew up most of her life. those windows peered out into the fields and forest near their home. she would sit at the table for hours, all alone, looking out those windows and drawing the world around her. over time, she imagined more things there. she would draw those too. from imitating reality, to envisioning a new one.

as she looks into the abyss below, one foot lined behind another one on the beam high up, she’s home again. and now those windows she looked out of every day so fondly, are boarded up. she can almost see her father’s eyes in the darkness.

Blackened sludge poured from the entity’s abyss of a mouth, falling past the beams. From it rose the form of her brother; at first a healthy warrior, then the beauty of a Cursed Blood first bitten, and the inhuman stare of one who’d succumbed to the curse’s bloodlust. All the while, he begged Inna to save him.  

she didn’t understand why it was happening. from shock alone she teeters on the beam. she missed that face. her surprise and relief poisons. she’s afraid. 

“you look horrible,” sweetly, sadly, she tells her brother as she extends a hand, hoping to brush away the sludge, the wrongness of him, the very thing she came so far to fix. “yo-you aren’t yourself.” she was oblivious to how true that was, “you should have stayed put like i said. i’m trying so hard to fix this.” he’s begging now and she ignores it to continue a monologue, feeling all at once too deep in this, yet far away. “i don’t care what father said, i can do this. i will do this-- look, i found the wizard and i’m making progress.” she reaches her palm further to touch him, but it seems like he’s farther away every time she tries. “you should see all the things i can do now. i’m not the same girl. just come back h-ome,” her voice breaks, she recovers because she’s afraid to sound like a crybaby now. “why’d you leave? where i can’t reach you or save you then?” she finally snaps at his continuous begging. she takes a few bold steps forward and swipes her hand out with new vengeance, trying to scoop him up.

“It’s pointless,” the entity giggled. “No matter how far you extend your hand, you’ll never reach him. The gap between what you know and what you need to know is far too wide!” The golden cracks on the entity’s maw splintered further, as if it were split lips on a twisted smile. “If you found him, would he even recognize you? It’s so easy to corrupt these little beasts when they’re dying of hunger,” it said. 

it tells her the thing she feared most and she responds with violently shaking her head, as if trying to shake the notion away. her heart breaks with each shake, and each word that comes after. “shut up,” her fear is taking a backseat, frustration, not fear but sheer building terror, and a fair bit of anger. “you don’t know what you’re talking about!” she snarls quietly, becoming a little less human herself, out of breath, wisp of angry air escaping, “you weren’t there. he promised me he wouldn’t.” he wouldn’t leave. not when he promise. he wouldn’t forget her, or change. not when he promised, damnit. “you’re not him. you’re not my brother.” her voice is stronger than ever, “you don’t know how strong he is.”

“Or I could give you a cure to his affliction. Wouldn’t you like an easy cure? I’ll even let you study it to duplicate its ingredients, since you’re so desperate to save these pitiful, cursed things. How noble a wish yours would be!”

it stops her from the anger threatening to explode. a moment of resilient silence. how does it know her dreams? her fears, her future plans, her weak spots? it doesn’t seem fair. 

she’d be foolish not to consider it.

so foolish is she when she opens her mouth and with her typically soft and quiet mantle back in place, says, “i don’t need you,” she fists her hands at her sides, “i can save them by myself. my brother and anyone else who needs me.” she wraps her arms around herself, hiding behind oversized knit what she thinks might be doubt in her heart, “you’re not even real. just like you don’t know my brother, you don’t know me. you don’t know how hard i’ve studied or what i’m capable of.”

everyone is so quick to dismiss her. even herself sometimes. but not this time.

she closes her eyes, squeezes them shut until her eyelids are uncomfortable, her teeth gritting in the process. she’s leaving this place, if it’s the last thing she does.

she springs out of bed moments later, sweat drooling down the sharpness of her cheekbones and coating her neck and chest. her eyes go crazy in the night, scanning her room for the frightening sight that had just plagued her. but there’s none to be found. just the messy sanctuary of her room within the tower of rest.

it was close. too close.

with a sigh she bolts out of bed, grabs the book she had been reading before bed, and knowing she won’t be sleeping, heads to read it out in the common room. ignoring the way her chest aches and her heart won’t stop overbeating, her nerves and fear still clinging to the vestiges of her.

[astaroth1357]

Cuddle Time w/ the OM Cast

Baby Simeon woke me up from my slumber. That card is fucking adorable, I want it.

Lucifer 

The fact Lucifer doesn't immediately throw them off whenever they try to snuggle should be proof enough of his love.

Cuddling is mostly done in the privacy of his bedroom. Occasionally he'll allow it in his office, but only if he's not busy.

He prefers to do it on one of the many chairs or cushions he has by the fire. Between the warmth of their body and the heat of the fireplace, he'll relax into it in seconds…

His favorite position is face-to-face with them on his lap - it's a way for him to "hand over" control while still feeling perfectly in charge. Sure, they can trace his jaw or fluff his hair as much as they like, but it's his arms holding them in place.

Gets beyond grouchy if they get interrupted... First, it's embarrassing, but second, who even has the right? If he gets pulled away for anything less than a house fire, someone (usually Mammon) is getting tied up to the chandelier...

Mammon 

Jumps at cuddle time, but always tries to play it off afterwards like an indecisive puppy.

Like Lucifer, he prefers his bedroom or theirs, but he'll do it in the Common Room too if he really needs a "pick-me-up." It's just that they usually get interrupted in there, so…

Likes to cuddle in bed or on couches, any place that's long enough to let him stretch out a bit. He wants to monopolize as much MC as he can.

Favorite position is laying on them so that his head is on their stomach or chest, kind of like a blanket. Like I said, the MC Surface Area to Mammon ratio is very important to him. More than half of MC must be cuddled for supreme satisfaction.

Whines like crazy if they get interrupted (and they usually do). Nearly every brother has an automatic gut reaction to toss him across the room if they see it happening, but that never stops him trying.

Leviathan 

Levi had to warm to cuddling but after that he was all-in for life.

Really only does it in his room (duh). He gets so nervous about trying it anywhere else that you'd think it was scandalous or something...

Actually prefers to cuddle on the floor - on beanbags or pillows of course. It's not terribly comfortable to cuddle and play games together in his bedtub and he needs the multitasking.

Favorite position (scratch that, the only position) is with their back to him and his arms around them in some way, probably also gripping a controller (or vice versa). They can do it laying down or sitting up, but that's what he can muster. His brain stops functioning if they ever try to face each other...

Not above vague thoughts of homicide if they get interrupted. He already doesn't like letting go, so add on the depletion of his all important "MC Meter" and he's going to be very grumpy indeed…

Satan 

Cuddles a bit like a semi-social cat. Less big on full-on snuggling, but he still requires physical contact.

Much more relaxed about the PDA than the others, but his affection style is more casual looking as well. He'll cuddle right about anywhere, but mostly whenever he's reading.

Couches or loveseats are easiest. Chairs are less so, but manageable as long as they can sit close to each other. 

Favorite position is to have them sit next to him with their legs over his lap. He only needs one hand to read so the other usually roams around mindlessly while he's engrossed in a book. He may rub their thighs, hold their hand, or play with their hair.

Hates being interrupted with a burning passion. The death glare he'll send to anyone stupid enough to try could curdle milk… Give Satan his MC time if you know what's good for you.

Asmodeus

Needs cuddle time like he needs air, but would you expect any less from the embodiment of Lust?

Down to cuddle anytime, anywhere - zero shame and no hint of hesitation. Sometimes he'll come over and latch into them in the middle of someone else's conversation...

Fond of using beds but he's also mastered cuddling in the tub, his bathroom is certainly built for it. Nothing beats a nice hot bath with his nice warm MC! 😘

Favorite position is really any of them. He's hardly going to be picky - though if given the choice, he'll pull them to the nearest bed and wrap himself around them so tight that they may get stuck together.

Whines louder than Mammon if they ever get interrupted and pelt the intruder with pillows or shoes to make them go away (it rarely works though…). 

Beelzebub 

Always happy to cuddle with MC!... as long as they don't mind his stomach growling from time to time.

Prefers to cuddle after he's downed some big feast. When the food coma is setting in, it's really nice to hold MC for a while… They make him feel full for at least five extra minutes!

He tries to incorporate MC into his training sometimes so his favorite position is to have them latched onto him like a kola while he goes about the House. If their arms or legs get tired, he'll carry them over to a couch and just continue from there.

If he's got to be still, then he prefers to cuddle in a bed, ideally one where Belphie is. Nothing warms his heart more than having the both of them clung into him in some way, it's very therapeutic. 😊

Not AS bothered when they get interrupted… If anything he's just disappointed. He was probably having fun, but they'll come back, right...?

Belphegor 

Look, all time is "Cuddle Time" and any other activity is just a distraction. If Belphie could hot glue the MC to his body, he would. 

Being cuddled to sleep is a MUST. He thrives on their proximity and the sound of their heartbeat is the world's best lullaby.

Unfortunately, he doesn't even need to be particularly comfortable to get cuddling in… He has been known to just collapse onto their lap if he's tired enough, all else be damned.

His favorite position is any way that lets them be his pillow. Any particular soft parts of the body like the stomach are fair game. He'll use their thighs like a neck pillow if he wants to (and hope that they don't try choking him out of revenge...).

There's really no interrupting Belphie. If someone needs MC, he'll latch onto their legs so they either stay put or bring him too. The others have to use magic or spatulas just to pry him off...

Diavolo

Big on cuddle time. HUGE on cuddle time! This man has hardly ever been touched, so this is a dream come true!!

Look, he's the king so he'll cuddle them wherever he damn well pleases! (That's a lie, Barbatos won't let him do it during work hours… Otherwise it's fine.)

He's very enthusiastic but uh… kind of inexperienced so a lot of things (like convenient location) don't occur to him right away. Like sure, they could go cuddle in a big ass bed, but he really wants to hold them RIGHT NOW so they're just going to have to do this in an empty ballroom somehow...

His favorite position is probably best described as the "Teddy Bear," where they just sit on his lap and he hugs them from behind. He'll even rest his chin on their head if he can. It looks vaguely like he's holding them hostage but they actually seem happy about it.

Unless your name is Barbatos or Lucifer, you do not interrupt them. As far as he knows, there's still a snake in the dungeons and you don't want to be the person he sends to check…

Barbatos

A spot of quiet intimacy is quite rare for him… but never unwelcome.

Assuming Barbs even finds the time in his schedule to sit still for a while, he will almost always opt to do so when utterly alone (sometimes even in deserted timelines). It's very embarrassing to be caught procrastinating at work...

Ever the pleaser, he'll claim that he has no real preferences but if he were being honest it's when they're curling up together on a cushion or loveseat. It's comfortable, but still allows for some proper conversion.

Unlike others, no matter what position they take he'll always want to be face-to-face. When he gets to be with them so rarely, why would he ever want to see their back turned…?

NO ONE interrupts them. No one. Short of Diavolo needing him desperately, if someone sees the two of them together they will turn around. Even an irritated Barbatos is scary, an angry one is terrifying…

Simeon

Oh man… This is the height of intimacy for an angel. Cuddling with Simeon is just as sweet and relaxing as it sounds - it's an almost photogenic level of serenity, fit for the brushes of Renaissance painters trying to define what divine love is...

Naturally, because it's such an intimate act Simeon will only do so in absolute privacy. He doesn't even want Luke to see, it's just that personal...

Part of why he's so guarded is because it's one of the rare times he'll let his wings be free. They're very delicate, so he has to sit on stools, logs, or other backless seats to even let them out but it's worth it.

His favorite position is to have the MC sit across his lap while he holds them as close as possible. He'll beat his wings for a nice breeze on hot days or fold them in to shelter the MC from cold ones. No matter what, their movement is so glimmering and graceful that they're practically mesmerizing…

To him getting interrupted is legitimately so mortifying you'd think he got caught streaking. Even the brothers - sans Satan - will avert their eyes if they find them like that… while still telling him to back off but at least they're considerate about it.

Solomon

Solomon's softest moments come when he's cuddling MC… but he's still a little mischievous no matter what.

They pretty much have to do it in secret because if any of the brothers see them, they'll throw a fit… So snuggling in cramped storage closets or "so-high-up-in-the-air-no-one-can-stop-us" it is!

But when he wants to poke buttons, Solomon will magic them onto his lap dead-ass in the middle of RAD, like, two minutes before a class starts just to watch the world burn…

If he had a favorite position, it's sitting wrapped up together in his cape. It feels intimate, warm, and the starry-sky pattern makes him feel like there's nothing in the universe but them…

Interruptions are frequent - thank the PDA police - but only in the Devildom. In the human world, though? They're all his and he soaks up every minute of it... Sorry fellas. 😏

[foodieforthoughts]

Once in a Lifetime

Summary: Meeting Chris at a premier for the first time.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: "Ajab si" song has been stuck in my head for a couple of days. I had to pen it down. But this drabble can be read independently, without any relation to the song. Also, I high-key think I'll be having the same reaction as Shahrukh in the movie Om Shanti Om if I ever meet Chris in real life. 🥺

Title: Once in a Lifetime

Aayi aisi raat hai jo, Bohat khush-naseeb hai

This night is very lucky

As soon as you noticed the black limo coming to a halt at the other end of the red carpet, your heart started thumping in your chest. You adjusted the straps of your dress, holding the pen and poster of his recent movie character, amongst all the other fans lined up behind the barricade. The music was loud and the screams were deafening, yet your heartbeat echoed loud and clear in your ears. When he stepped out of the car, dressed in a form fitting suit, looking dapper with a huge smile on his face; you were certain you would faint.

Chaahe jisse door se duniya, Vo mere kareeb hai

The one whom the whole world desires is close to me

"Chris!" The girls behind you called out, repeatedly screaming his name while shoving their bodies against you.

While they shouted his name, you had lost your voice completely, staring at his figure dumbfounded. The excitement of meeting him for the first time had turned into a full blown anxiety attack. Your hands had turned cold and you were pretty sure your legs were shaking.

"Hello guys." Chris had walked up the barricade, greeting everyone while pulling the cap off of his marker pen. He was a few paces away, answering questions by the fans along with signing anything that caught his attention.

As he came closer, enough for you to notice the freckles on his cheeks and the vein on the side of his neck, you were nearly in tears. If Chris looked handsome on screen, up close he looked surreal like he was one of God's best creations.

With trembling hands you had reached out to him with your poster, feeling the stinging tears welling up in your eyes.

Kitna kuch kehna hai, Fir bhi hai dil mein sawaal kahi

I have so much to say and yet I have so many questions

"Hi, hi, hi" He greeted everybody as he signed along.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves, smelling his distinct cologne as it overwhelmed your senses with it's spicy undertone. But your world near about exploded when he grabbed your poster and smiled at you.

Those mere seconds when he was signing his autograph, felt like a lifetime as time moved slowly for you. You noted how his hand glided along the paper and how he concentrated to put only so much pressure to write but not tear it. His fingers had clasped the other end of the poster, so delicately and yet so firm like holding a baby. The way his head titled to the side when he wrote had always looked adorable on tv; to be seeing it in person was like a dream come true.

"Thank you." You squeaked, unsure whether he even heard it.

"No, no. Thank you." He nodded, moving on to the next person and making his way down the aisle, clicking pictures along the way too. His simple acknowledgement had sent you sky-rocketing to the heavens; your life goal was now complete.

But your magical reality was ruined when you groaned as the girls behind you rushed to push forward. You felt the air leave your lungs as you were being crushed against the metal bars. You tried to maintain your stance but it was becoming increasingly difficult, leaving you gasping for air.

"Hey, hey!" Chris rushed back towards you, calling his men to help him.

Sapnon mein jo roz kaha hai, wo phir se kahun Ya nahi

Should I voice what I’ve so often repeated in my dreams?

You were hyper aware of his face being mere inches away from yours. His hand rested on your back while his men kept the other fans behind and pulled you out to the side. Once in the open, you coughed, catching your breath while bending with your hands resting on your knees.

"You okay?"

Your head snapped up when you heard Chris's voice. He looked concerned, the crease between his brows deepening with each passing second. At the proximity of your bodies without the metal barricade separating you both, you could notice the glimmer of blue mixing with green in his eyes and the way he towered over you.

You were rendered speechless at the way your night had turned out to be. Every word, every syllable that you had ever learnt had completely vanished from your vocabulary. When you opened your mouth, nothing but air came out.

Chris chuckled before gently placing his hand on your arm. "I have to rush but they'll help you if you need anything, alright?" He smiled at you before sauntering towards the media personnel standing near the barricades.

When you could gather your wits, you couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. You felt your heart flutter, watching him in the distance as he animately spoke to the interviewer. In that same starstruck daze, you noticed your signed poster was missing, probably slipping put of your grasp when you were trying to save yourself from getting crushed.

One would think you would be upset about it, but you were anything but. With a faint tingle on your arm where he had touched you, you turned on your heels and made your way out of the venue with a memory that would be forever imprinted in your mind.

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@christhickevans @madbaddic7ed @toomanyfandomsshreya @luclittlepond @agniavateira @eldarwen333 @avengedwritings @twhstuckylover @the-soot-sprite @moonlacebeam @nuggsmum @donutloverxo @carpediemm-18 @confusednerd09 @diegos-butt @mariestark @cheyentjj @mary-ann84 @tonystankschild @mansaaay @hlkwrites @zealoushound

[15-dogs]

hey there i’m in need of more cedric fanfic 🥺 so can i request 11 from prompt list 3 with cedric and a female reader? thank you ❤️

bet on it |c.d.|

pairing: cedric diggory x fem!reader

summary: you were quite good at betting and enjoyed it quite a bit, but no one could have bet how far off your plan could be

prompt:  “you owe me a kiss.”

warnings: none

guide: (Y/N) = your name

word count: 2043

a/n: ask and you shall receive! may I just say that I literally said “aw” out loud when I read this bc it’s so freaking adorable?? thank you for requesting hope you enjoy!!

“Come on!” you groaned. You loosened your house tie as it suddenly felt as if it were strangling you. You were currently placing bets with the Weasley twins about which student's cauldron would explode first. Fred had picked the genius of the class because he claimed that she was a diamond in the rough of stupidity, George had picked the introvert at the back of the class who had spent more time doodling than taking notes, and you had picked the distracted young witch who was studying for an exam she had next period. 

It really was no competition. You were a sucker for a good challenge. That’s truly how you became friends with the twins.

You heard someone calling your name from behind you but you didn’t spare a glance. Then it happened again as you watched your chip’s potion bubble over. You bounced your leg in preparation. Finally, a firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and pulled you around just as a loud popping noise signaled from behind you.

“No!” you shouted, turning around to see the witch covered in spoiled potion. “I missed it.”

“Yeah, but you still won,” grumbled Fred as he and his twin slapped a few coins on the desk.

“Ace,” you said proudly.

“(Y/N)! I’ve been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes now!” Cedric complained from behind you. It was almost pathetic how fast you turned around.

You met his blue eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. You had fallen for Cedric quite some time ago and the twins made it their mission in life to partner you two up. You had disagreed with nearly everything that they had suggested, already having your own little plan for you two would get together. However, through the twins, you two had quickly taken to being friends, spending hours together talking about anything and everything you could. But, you see, he didn’t like you back and that threw an immovable wrench in your plan.

“H-hi,” you stammered. He let out a soft chuckle that had you completely unglued.

“(Y/N),” Fred began, breaking the tension between you and Cedric.

“We were thinking,” George chimed in.

“There’s gonna be a party tonight in the Gryffindor common room-”

“And we were hoping you and pretty boy would come.”

The twins exchanged a small glance before they asked in unison, “Would you?”

Your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t want to make Cedric feel obligated even though you desperately wanted to go. You floundered for a moment before your body went rigid, Cedric’s hands sliding onto your shoulders and delivering a soft massage.

“We’d love to,” he answered.

“Brilliant!” the twins cried as they got up from their desk. As soon as they left, Cedric sunk into their seat.

“Sorry I answered for you, I just assumed-”

“I wanted to go anyway!” you blurted out. Your face turned red with embarrassment. That stupidly handsome boy always brought out the worst of you.

“Perfect,” he said with a nod. He got up from the chair and took a few steps away before leaning down by your ear. His hot breath fanned against you as he whispered, “See you tonight.”

Merlin, that boy would be the death of you.

You arrived at the party in something more casual than your uniform. Your eyes scanned the room for Cedric but you were torn away when Fred and George tugged you to the side. You stumbled into them with a glare, evoking a small snicker from both of them.

“(Y/N) and Cedric sitting in a tree,” they sang horrendously. You shook your head and covered your ears teasingly.

“You’re hideous!”

“I should hope not,” Cedric said from behind you. Your stomach did a flip as you slowly removed your hands and turned on the balls of your feet, blatantly tuning out the twins’ laughs.

“Not...not you, Gred and Forge...I meant Gred and Forge! Merlin, I did it again.” Your night couldn’t have gotten any more embarrassing. Even Cedric was laughing now.

“What’s so funny?” Fred asked. “Those are our names, aren’t they, Forge?”

“No, you git! I’m Gred, you’re Forge!”

Nope, it got way more embarrassing.

Cedric, a smile still on his face, took your hand in his and pulled you away from the twins. You purposely ignored the kissing noises they made as he dragged you away. You two landed by the refreshments table— well, table was a nicer term for whatever you were standing by. It was simply stacks of boxes lazily thrown together with cups and bottles of pumpkin juice and firewhiskey which you assumed the twins had brought.

“Let me get you a drink,” he offered. You nodded gratefully. You looked around the party as Cedric poured you something, your eyes locking on a game of spin the bottle. Cedric placed the cup in your hand and whispered, “You want to play?”

Merlin, his voice. It was raspy and dreamy and everything you could have ever wanted. It was like a charm in itself, persuading you to say whatever was on your mind.

“Only if you’ll play with me.” You sunk into yourself as the words left your mouth, fearing that Cedric really and truly would run. Instead, Cedric took your hand and escorted you to the betting teens.

A few spins went by, people cheering and whooping at the awkwardness of it. Finally, it was your turn and you had bet Angelina Johnson two galleons that you would go through with it. The offer almost offended you— since when had you ever stepped down from a challenge?

You gave Angelina a playful smirk before spinning the bottle swiftly. It slowed, and slowed, and slowed, until it finally stopped.

No.

No.

This was your worst nightmare and your dream come true all at once. Cedric stared you down, a grin tugging at his lips. You blushed heavily while rubbing your sweaty palms on your clothing.

“I believe now’s the part when we kiss, love,” he teased, the group around you chuckling softly.

So this was really happening. You scooted a little closer so that he was only inches away from you. Everything about him was incredibly powerful up close. His handsomeness was almost hypnotic.

Cedric, noticing that you wouldn’t make the first move, began to lean in. But you couldn’t go through with it. You jumped to your feet and mumbled just loud enough for him to hear, “Not like this.”

And then you were gone.

You were lucky enough to not be in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff which allowed you to avoid Fred, George, and Cedric for as long as you needed to. Unfortunately for you, you only had classes with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs for the day.

Fred and George wouldn’t even tease you about what happened at the party. You knew it looked bad, but was it that bad? Apparently so.

When Cedric appeared in your Charms class, you gasped. You ducked your head and slid into a seat next to a random Hufflepuff. You couldn’t look in his direction for the whole class. You didn’t know what you had expected, for him to not show up to class? 

You tried, you really did, to focus on the lecture but it was just not distracting enough from the fact that your longtime crush whom you rejected sat a few seats away from you. You could practically feel his eyes trained on your back.

You decided to fiddle with your quill in hopes of tuning out of everything, and boy did that work. It wasn’t until a familiar voice called your name that you realized how long you had been zoned out— class was over!

“(Y/N)!” Cedric cried. Your eyes snapped up towards him and you froze under his stare. You instantly scrambled to get your things and bolt but Cedric cut you off. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You took a few steps back at his sudden closeness while you sheepishly muttered, “Um, dinner?”

“I don’t think so.” He feigned confusion.

“Is...is that so?” Your mouth felt incredibly dry. He was so close. Every part of you wanted to kiss him but you simply couldn’t, not there, not then.

“I believe you owe me a kiss.”

You shook your head, almost to test if you had heard him right. He seemed to notice how shocked you were and a one sided smirk pulled at his lips. Your body coursed with adrenaline as your heart thundered in your chest. The way he was looking at you had you weak in the knees, it was almost too much to bear.

Cedric took your anxious stammers and glances at his lips as a signal. He tilted his head slightly as he leaned in to kiss you, his eyes slowly fluttering shut. You jumped backwards with a squeak.

“Huh?” he asked, his eyes opening. “Merlin, I’m so sorry. Listen, I was only teasing you. If you don’t actually fancy me then we don’t have to-”

“I fancy you!”

Well, that certainly wasn’t scripted. Cedric just made you talk and talk, abandoning any hope of whatever you had in mind for how you two would end up together.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! I forfeited my first bet for you a few nights ago! Now I’m down two galleons and a reputation!”

Cedric stared at you incredulously before delving into a deep laughter. You didn’t know what was so funny. Cedric wiped a tear from his eye as he asked, “So that’s what that meant? ‘Not like this’ in terms of betting?”

Well now you felt downright guilty. You scuffed your shoes along the floor, avoiding his piercing eyes. You cleared your throat and explained, “No, that’s not what that meant.”

Cedric’s tone softened in a flash. You saw his feet come into frame and then his hand reached for yours. You looked up at him, your cheeks tinged pink. His eyes ran over you as he brushed some hair back with his free hand, his gaze lingering a second too long on your lips.

“What did you mean, then?” he implored, his voice no more than a whisper because it didn’t need to be.

You bit your lip. “I meant that...Merlin, this is embarrassing.” You tried to look away from Cedric but he placed a finger underneath your chin, prompting your head to turn back his way.

“You can tell me. You can always tell me.”

You sighed. How could you explain it to him? You had always imagined that Cedric would ask you out on a date to Hogsmeade in the early fall; when it’s not too cold for heavy jackets but not too warm where you’d be drenched in sweat. He’d take you to the stores, stopping by the tea shop where he’d already know how you liked your tea: breakfast with a little milk. You’d continue to survey the area until you stumbled upon a tree that was beginning to turn with the coming season. You’d stare at it in wonder and turn to see Cedric admiring you, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your stomach. He’d walk towards you under that tree, whisper something sweet and genuine before placing the most gentle of kisses on your lips.

How do you explain that?

“I always imagined things as moments, Ced. That game, that bet? That wasn’t a part of the moments that I had dreamed of.”

Cedric’s thumb went up to your bottom lip, caressing it with care. You let out a breathy exhale at the feeling, your eyes slowly shutting.

“As badly as you want it to be something you can predict, moments are exactly that: moments. They’re unpredictable. They come and go when you least expect it.”

You opened your eyes to look Cedric over. “What are you saying?”

“Even though we don’t know what moments are going to look like, we should never pass them by.”

Cedric moved his hand to frame your jaw and kissed you. The feeling was almost unreal. It was better than you could have imagined in your fantasies because Cedric was absolutely right; never let moments pass you by, no matter what form they may be.

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Angel!AU Demon Brother as Your Guardian Angel

Scenario: Residing as angels in the Celestial Realm, the brothers have been assigned to watch over you to guide and protect you. How they do so is up to their discretion. (And if they fall in love with you, well...)

Note: gender neutral headcanons; if i had to choose a timeline, satan exists but belphie doesnt hate humans yet and lilith is alive 🤪, the boys retained their personalities that we all know and love -- it really just be them with guardian angel duties--- bonus angel is Lilith ;)

inspiration from [link] and their other angel!au videos (they’re all adults in this post btw) and [link] (yes just this post; apparently my guardian angel Lucifer is in awe of me... for being dumb as FUCK--)

--

Lucifer

a little affronted he has to take time to look after a human as a seraph but doesn't vocalize it as much since it's direct orders from his father

isn't one to directly intervene in your life much because he doesn't see the need to nor does he want to; a little haughty ngl about being an angel and you being a human

there is no guideline to being a guardian angel and making sure you don’t die before your time is his Main Priority 

he's not going to stop you from eating a whole family sized Dorito bag by yourself or from staying awake till 4am-- those bad decisions are on YOU

finds a little pleasure from seeing the consequences of your actions for a while, but eventually just judges you for everything you do

"why aren't you studying? isn't the midterm tomorrow?"

"when was the last time this human ate?"

"why are you dating that person?"

grumbles over you and your life choices, but is now just actually concerned and hoping you'll be able to make better choices for your own health and happiness; he is now officially Invested as Guardian Angel, don’t you dare laugh at him Michael

if he does utilize his powers to influence you, it comes in subtle hints-- the wind blowing in your hair so you look a certain direction, a sudden bright light to wake you up so you sleep properly in a bed and not a desk... maybe appearing in your room for just a moment to place a blanket over your shoulders

realizes he has… feelings when you perform a good deed or grow as a person and he feels immensely proud and happy for you; has to really keep himself in check to not intervene in your life in more menial, though still helpful, ways

humbled by your growth and change as you become a better person

finally reveals himself to you (by accident) when he has to physically come and save you from danger and then proceeds to yell at you in anger (read: worry) about safety and doesn’t leave your side

Mammon

similarly to Lucifer, grumbles about having to take time to babysit a human but quickly becomes invested in your life at record speed (typical Mammon)

unnecessarily and excessively worried at times even for things that isn't actually putting you in danger

"WHAT THE HELL HUMAN, LOOK BOTH WAYS BEFORE YOU CROSS THE STREET--"

"NO NO NO, BRING YOUR PEPPER SPRAY WITH YOU! I don't care if you’re just walking to the adjacent apartment, BRING IT!"

eventually just ends up storming down to the human realm and """attempts""" to be subtle

if you placed the spray on the table, you turn and it's in your bag again. weird.

pretty sure you could have done a pretty good paranormal activity video with the weird stuff happening in your life when mammon is not-so-secretly intervening in your life

attempts do not last long because mammon's patience grows thin and he suddenly pops into your life and demand you be more careful

probably meets you by slapping your hand away from buying another random but expensive plushie even though you can barely afford it and you just stare at him like he's crazy as he explains that he's your guardian angel

'My Guardian Angel as My Roommate' becomes the title of your life or alternatively 'My Guardian Angel and I are Both Idiots'

the genre of your life is now officially a rom com

his main excuse for being constantly at your side (and it's NOT because he likes you a lot) is "how else am I gonna be prepared to protect you from anything that wants to hurt you?? you would have died 1000x over without me" which is a lie but it's okay he pays rent

hold his hand and tell him it’s so you don’t get lost and he’ll blush but never let go of your hand

Leviathan

life is a simulation

or rather, your life is

once he gets assigned to you, he observes you for a while-- and it looked like he was going to leave you be for the most part, when one Bad Choice has him popping up right in front of you

he slaps away the tub of ice cream you were gonna binge eat

"human, stop eating that crap! your stats are gonna suffer!!!"

super insistent in telling you to do something that good for you and is pretty stubborn when it comes to decisions that benefit your health and career

"noob, hurry up and level up your intelligence or you're gonna fail your exams"

"is life a game to you"

"yes, and you are losing. but have no fear, I am your walkthrough."

joking aside, Levi is pretty supportive of you, in the way Belphie is to his human-- he just words things in gaming terms like stats, energy, leveling up, exp

did not expect to get gratitude from this gig, but when you express your true appreciation for his care, he doesn't know what to do (starts crying maybe?)

his advice starts veering away from just lifestyle and health but to more human aspects; he offers a listening ear and supportive compliments whenever needed

because it turns out he cares for you a whole lot more than if this was really all just a game to him and ends up caring about your general happiness and is more considerate about your feelings

Finds himself being super casual with you and talking about your favorite show and has to catch himself from speaking so quickly-- can’t have the human thinking he… adores you

Satan

has no qualms with coming to the human realm to watch over you, but is fine with not immediately being a part of your life or intervening as much as Mammon or Belphie

ironically, as a man who was originally never born as an angel, he does his duties in a manner most befitting manner of one

subtly inserts himself into small parts of your life, persisting off small interactions

he's the guy at the counter when you needed to find a book, he's the one who picks up your hydroflask and returns it to the lost and found, he's the one telling you your backpack is open before anything spills out

he doesn't know but you jokingly dub him your guardian angel, even if you don't know who he actually is but never have the courage to speak up-- also mainly because he flits in and out of your life so fast you don’t even have the chance to say “oh, by the way, what’s your name?”

Satan is content with how he is more of a passing moment in your life, so this way you can still live your life the way you want it without much interference from an outside source because he respects your choices and the concept of free will that all humans have

truly believes that the best course of action and his duty as your guardian angel is to see you live your life the way you want to-- and if can help out a little or give you a little nudge in the right way, then that’s fine by him

Prefers to be on the sidelines and watch you become your own person and-- well, it’s a bit hard not getting attached to you when he sees you trip over yourself over someone you like or help someone out with their books when they dropped them

eventually does have to step in in a more meaningful way when you accidentally endanger yourself and he wards it off or catches you before you hurt yourself

at that point it was hard to pretend not being a part of your life when he's helped you so often-- and the fact that you're infatuated with him and asked him out

(he probably doesn't even realize how suave and prince charming he looks lmao)

Asmodeus

chooses to watch over you from above more but doesn't mind just popping down to the human realm just to have some fun at the same event you're in

lives through all your moments with you; laughs when you laugh and cries when you cry and  genuinely enjoys seeing you go through life, living and learning

generally leaves you to your own devices unless there's something really pressing

utterly cannot stop himself from intervening if you have doubts about yourself or if you struggle with self-love

loves appearing in dreams to dish out advice and tell you to love yourself, forgive yourself more, and to seek happiness because you deserve it

you don't remember the dreams exactly, but you do remember the sentiment within it and sometimes the fuzzy image of a beautiful angel you aren't sure you've seen irl but you chalk it up to seeing the face of strangers you’ve seen (which is... technically true)

dreams are his main way of communicating with you, and he also just thinks the mystery and anonymity is kinda exciting-- but sometimes he just spends a lot of your dreams just talking to you and getting to know you more intimately and seeing things from your perspective

sometimes enjoys being in your lucid dreams when you’re pretty aware and you go on some really whacky dream-induced adventure

loves you like no other and truly wishes the best for you

accidentally reveals himself to you during a party where you meet face to face

"I've feel like I've seen you before…"

"Haha, well that's because I've been in your dreams! They were pretty pleasant weren't they?"

you think he’s kidding for a long time-- and honestly he’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s your Guardian Angel, considering he tells you all the time “Honey, I’m you’re Guardian Angel” or “Of course I’m here for you! I’m your Guardian Angel!” 

but the way he says it makes it feel like that’s just a nickname, not an official TITLE

floored when you actually see his WINGS and turns out you’ve been in love with an actually angel this entire time

Beelzebub

similar to Asmo and Satan, he doesn't really feel the need to insert himself into your life

instead, he's wherever you are… but in the background, eating at a table in a far corner or walking casually across the street from where you are

very inconspicuous and surprisingly good at keeping a distance, whether he intends to or not

he just looks very natural doing whatever he is doing at any time, but often accidentally ends up in the background of a photo or selfie without people noticing

as your Guardian Angel, he watches over you by stopping anyone with ill intent from approaching you... like the obvious ones like mugging and stuff; he wishes he could protect you from bad people too but he respectfully keeps his distance and allows you to make mistakes and grow from it

it infuriates him when people take advantage of your kindness

(though if the person that hurt you emotionally meets Beel in an alley...)

is very taken aback when YOU are the one approaching HIM asking for the time or if you could grab something on the high shelf for you

actually pretty flustered when you do interact with him because he was distracted doing other stuff he never expected you to notice him

Beel is the definition of a Guardian Angel-- a sentinel, standing on guard to protect you from danger and physical harm-- and he does exactly that when the time comes

most likely to save you from something dramatic like a car incoming or a fight

doesn't really understand why you trust him so easily or so wholeheartedly even after he saved you because he thought he would look intimidating

(he did, until you asked him for the time and he spoke with his mouth full of burgers or stammered out a 'you're welcome' when you smiled at him at the library)

Beel doesn't know until much later that he's dubbed as your gentle giant

Belphegor

like some of the others, doesn't like to influence your choices as much-- not because of free will or anything like that, but because he likes humans because of who they are and what they do

(and also he’s too lazy to be hovering around you trying to control your every move anyhow)

and man are humans, especially you, interesting

why is that human drinking from that person's navel? no clue but it looks fun

why is that human consuming whipped cheese with waffles? no idea, but he wouldn't get this much free entertainment without it

has no problems integrating himself into your life as your friend or roommate just to watch everything unfold in person and to tease you for your mildly questionable decisions in life

“Belphie, why didn’t you stop me from eating that last bowl of cereal?”

“Eh, I thought it would be kind of funny.”

isn't one to go out of his way to do something to influence you, but he does encourage you to do the things you want to do, whether they be good or mildly questionable ones-- but especially the fun ones like joining a new club or going to town to have fun (which you do drag him along to every time)

does steer you away from making Bad Decisions like murder or whatever, but he thinks most choices are pretty neutral and does help you process the consequences, both good and bad, of what happened

so he's integrated himself as your friend, offers advice and supports your decisions no matter what, and subtly looks out for you… and he's surprised when one day you confess to him that you like him???

this was NOT part of the plan but he would be lying to himself if he said he didn't end up falling for you too after seeing all sides of you and watching you grow as a person

Lilith

watches more from afar, because as much as she loves humans like Belphie, she is a little shy about meeting you

curiosity does triumph over shyness eventually, and she does surveillance distantly like Beel before winding up being directly in your life like Belphie (siblings am i right)

her brothers would keep trying to give her input on how she should interact with you or guide you but she brushes them away with a huff because she thinks she's doing a fine job thank you very much!

or so she's pretty sure, considering you're hanging out with her, seriously listening to her advice, buying her gifts... cuddling in bed with her if you’re attracted to her

if you do like her and want to date her, she has to be ready to somehow defend you from the only danger in your life, which turns out to be her brothers

if not, you two live happy lives as the best of friends, though the brothers can never be too careful with their darling sister

likes updating about your life to her brothers and they're lowkey jealous

doesn’t actually have to reveal herself as an angel unless you somehow find out... or because Mammon and Lucifer come down and threatens bodily harm if you hurt Lilith (wait, who’s watching over who now??)

hold up this is setting up for exactly what happens in the canon storyline

[obae-me]

A Taste of His Own Medicine- Belphie

Word Count: 2708

The twins were sick, Lucifer was busier than he ever had been, and the rest of the brothers were avoiding their siblings like...well...like the plague. You never initially intended to become a nurse, but how could you sit by and do nothing while the demons around you that you had come to care for suffered? And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were thankful that there was something you could do to help around for once. It wasn’t often at all where you were put in a situation where you could be the protector, the helper, the one they relied on. However, as much as you liked that feeling, you hoped this spreading sickness would end with Beel and Belphie. The constant care you were dishing out was starting to leave you more exhausted than normal. 

Telling anyone about your state though would most likely end in immediate termination of your new career in demon caretaking. So you kept it to yourself. These brothers were now leaning on you harder than ever, including the ones who had already been sick. Just the thought of all their faces, pale and sick in bed, lighting up at the sight of you entering the room as you pet their heads sent tingles down your spine. You wanted to take care of them...all of them, forever. 

You violently shook your own head as you gripped the handle to your bedroom. What am I thinking? Is that Florence Nightingale trope really true? The door gently creaked open as you stepped inside. Atop the table in your room sat a candle holder, the lit flames were the only source of light in the room this time of night. With a sharp puff, you snuffed the light out, plunging the room into further darkness.

You were unaware what time it was, and the eternal moonlight never made things easier in that regard. Your day had been occupied fulfilling several requests from the many members of the household. The typically hungry demon would now only eat food you made for him, and so you spent hours upon hours today making hearty meals in the kitchen. You’d become the new mailman, bringing packages from the front door to the otaku with severe hypochondriac tendencies. There was the bookworm who was milking his symptoms for as long as he could, partially because he truly enjoyed your company, but also because he enjoyed his brother’s complaints as he kept you to himself. Asmo left you alone for the most part, in fact, he was doing his duty to stay out of the house for as long as Lucifer would let him. You’d never really known him to be such a germophobe, but to be fair, you were learning a lot of new things due to these recent events. Mammon was practically MIA as well, with Lucifer busy picking up the extra Student Council slack, the greedy second born was able to get away with his shenanigans cleanly. And as for Belphie...well, you hadn’t had the chance to focus on him yet. Beel always assured you he had his brother looked after. With as busy as you were, you hadn’t exactly had time to focus much on yourself either. 

You dragged tired feet across the floor of your bedroom as you made your way towards your bed. It called to you, a sleepy siren’s song. The blankets reminiscent of a sweet melody, the pillows the alluring notes. With the last of your energy, you swiftly kicked off your shoes, letting them roll and settle crookedly on the hardwood floor. You let yourself fall face first onto your bed, the springs bouncing you up and down gently from the sudden impact. A moan escaped your lips, one you never had the intention for, but your body betrayed you. Rain and wind outside started to kick up, the sound brushing and pouring against your window. It was like the night was comforting you, the weather speaking to you softly. It’s okay to get some rest.

Without bothering to change into pajamas, you crawled under your covers, pulling the blanket tightly near your face. Muscles and joints in your body started to ache, and you furrowed your brows as you shut your eyes. Had you really worked all that much? What exactly did you do that forced your body to feel this sore? You let out a sigh and brushed your cheek against your pillow. Already the back of your mind was buzzing with sleep, and even if you tried to come up with some answer to your discomfort, you wouldn’t be able to. It had probably been the fastest you fell asleep in a long time, conking out without a second thought. 

*   *   *

Fire haunted your dreams that night, the heat making you lightheaded. Your subconscious body found it hard to move and navigate through the burning hallways. The House of Lamentation was on fire, by reasons unknown, as dreams often do. You were frantically looking for the brothers, your mind thoroughly convinced they all still resided inside. You could’ve sworn you were screaming their names, but the roaring sounds of the flames muffled your voice. You felt yourself collapse to the ground, unable to move. You were hot. Too hot. You-

A low scraping noise shocked your body awake. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts back to reality, the dream drifting far behind you now. Another squeak of two hard surfaces grinding against each other struck your ears, and your mind pumped with adrenaline. You sat up in bed immediately, your nerves on high alert for danger. Being in the Devildom as long as you had rewired you to always be cautious. 

It was hard to see through all the black. Clouds had covered the moonlight, leaving little to no light to guide your way. The little bit of natural night vision you had only revealed to you a large shadow shifting around your room. They staggered as they walked, groaning deeply. Your fingers trembled as the sound echoed in your mind, it sounded like something of the undead. How had it gotten in the house? There were no distinct features you could make out, the creature didn’t have any limbs. It was one giant blob, dragging itself across the floor, moving and knocking over the chairs in your room as it did so. That must’ve been the cause of the sound that woke you up. 

You had a few options bubble up in your mind. Screaming for help wasn’t a smart option. There would be a good chance the monster would make a beeline for you. Besides, with the demon brothers sporadic schedule, you weren’t sure anyone would hear you anyway. You had half a mind to text someone to save you, but if you got caught in the light from your screen, that might also cause this thing to be alerted to you. Also the previous scheduling reason still stood to reason. Lucifer had tried to install some sort of listening device in your room for emergencies, but he described it like a baby monitor, and you had been vehemently opposed to the idea. Now look where it got you. 

The intruder seemed distracted and confused, so if you timed it right, you could flee your bedroom and seek for someone to help you. Right now, it was finally drifting away from the table and towards the middle of the room, inching ever closer to your bed. The luxury of time was not something you had, and so you settled your mind on running once it got a little closer. Just a few more seconds. Your heart was pounding harder than the wind against your windows. Just a little bit farther! The heat coming off the creature was waving off on you, reminding you of your dream. It moaned unnaturally, shuffling slowly, without a purpose. You bit your lip, quietly swinging your legs over the end of the bed so you could finally make your dash to freedom. The blood pumping through your head was deafening. 

A thud reverberated throughout the room, making you jump, freezing your body in place. The creature had collapsed on your floor. It slowly squirmed, it’s shape shrugging away before a hand poked out of it’s frame. 

“O...w…” 

The familiar voice broke through the silence, and you pressed a hand to your chest as you took in a deep relaxing breath. You rushed to the floor, kneeling beside the shape. When you touched it, it felt soft. You grabbed the surface with both of your hands, peeling it back to reveal a confused disoriented demon. 

“Belphie…” The relief washed over you, weighing you down as you wrapped your arms around the seventh brother. You rolled your own eyes, exasperated at your own stupidity. If the other brothers found out, they would never let you live it down. You’d been spooked by Belphie covered in a puffy duvet. You snapped out of your thoughts, remembering that he’d taken quite a tumble. “Are you okay?”  He never answered, but you quickly found the source of his fall. The shoes you had left haphazardly on the floor. You bit your lip in a bit of shame. You snatched them and tucked them away near your bed. Then returned your focus near the lump. “Belphie? What’re you doing here?” You placed a soft hand on his shoulder. You almost reeled back, your hand nearly burning against his skin. 

“...anna...o...ome…” He mumbled, not focused on you at all, his eyes were even still closed. He clawed at your rugs, pushing himself on his arms just to collapse again. Your chest squeezed as you grabbed his arms. Convinced he was still asleep, you tried shaking him, feeling the palms of your hands tingle against his unhealthy temperature. 

“Belphie!” 

None of your attempts to wake him up were working, so you turned your attention to the only thing you could do. Bringing his heat down. The blanket you pulled off of him you grabbed, draping it over his body again. His hands tried lazily pawing at it. After turning him on his back, you tucked the excess fabric around him, doing your best to pin down his arms and legs to keep him from moving. You’d remove it soon, you couldn’t let him get hotter, but you didn’t want to risk him moving more and hurting himself. Frantically, you plucked a pillow from off your own bed and tucked it under his head. You brushed sticky strands of hair off his forehead, watching him mumble some more. 

“..illith...Beel…” 

If it could, your heart would’ve cracked right then and there, but you couldn’t let it get to you. Feeling against the walls, you moved around your room till you found the light switch. Then you went to work. Thankfully, due to your efforts before, you now kept extra medicine and supplies in your room. It was actually Satan who suggested it, and while you thought it had been a silly idea, now you were thankful. 

When you returned to Belphie’s side with all your items, you almost regretted turning the light on. He was panting, his mouth open to try and breathe, but his lips and mouth were noticeably dry. His skin was covered in splotches of color, sweat dripping from his forehead. You placed a bowl of water, rags, medicine, bottles of water, and a glass of only ice beside you on the floor. As soon as you ripped the blanket back off on him, his limbs moved to get up again. You settled a rag in the water then gently pushed him back to the floor with a single hand. He writhed as you quickly wrung out the rag, pressing it against his forehead. In only a few seconds, it was completely warm. You dipped it back in, feeling a bit of panic rise in your lungs as Belphie continued to pant. 

“Breathe, Belphie, breathe.” You rubbed his chest as you held him down, cooling off his face and neck with the damp cloth. You didn’t know how long you kept up this motion. Comfort, dip, cool. Over and over as the color in him almost refused to leave. He needed to wake up to take the medicine, you weren’t sure you could get it down his throat in this condition. You let your hand drift from his chest for just a second to check your D.D.D. It was now four in the morning. A full hour of this, by your estimations. Should you text someone? Were you doing the right thing? You debated this for a few more minutes, but then felt your worry assuage. His breathing wasn’t as ragged as he no longer gasped for breath. He was still moving a bit though, and you tried to recall if Belphie had any previous experiences with sleep walking. 

“Ahh...haah…” He wheezed, and for what felt like the hundredth time, you rubbed his cheeks with the wet fabric, brushing your hand back and forth across his chest. He raised his arms and grabbed your shirt and sleeve, trying to pull you close in his sleep. 

“Shh, it’s alright.” His hands were weak and trembling against you, but finally, he seemed to hear your words. The smallest slit of his eyes was visible as he did his best to open them. 

“M...C…” 

You were so overjoyed, you started tearing up. The rag in your hand dropped to the floor as you caressed his face with your hands. He still wasn’t fully awake or aware, but he was attentive enough to try to pull himself up, still clutching tightly onto your clothes. The first thing on your mind was medicine. You filled up the measured cap and brought it to him. You helped tilt back his head with the brace of one of your hands, and thankfully--or perhaps worriedly--he took it without questioning it. He grimaced a little, but the bitter and awful taste of the medicine brought him more into reality. 

“Where?” He released your sleeve as he rubbed his eyes. 

“That’s not important right now, can you stand? We should get you to bed.” You stroked his head, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He just nodded, and with your assistance, he almost managed to fully stand. He was mostly leaning on you, and it was all you could do to keep from collapsing yourself. Fortunately your bed was right here, and you let him plop into your space. You heard him sigh, and thanks to the magical demon medicine he was looking much better, and breathing easier to boot. 

With what little energy he had left, he scooted himself on the far side of the bed turning to face you. He held out his hands and squeaked out your name. “MC…” 

Your emotions hitched in your chest as you watched him beg for you. With a small sigh, you decided it would be okay to leave the mess on the floor as long as no more sleepwalking demons would enter without notice. You rushed over to the light switch in your room and turned the brightness off, using the light function on your D.D.D to prevent tripping over anything. You slid into the extra space Belphie left for you, and instead of being burning hot, he was simply warm. A little too warm, but nothing life threatening. 

He curled up by your side, as you pulled up the covers over both of you. He was doing his best to position his chin on your head and your face near his chest. You could hear air rattle around in his chest, so you reached around his body and rubbed his back. He squeezed you like one of his many pillows. All at once, the adrenaline and panic left your body, and you were left winded and exhausted. You were unsure if it was Belphie’s magic or simply your body at it’s breaking point, but you couldn’t keep yourself awake any longer. Before you could make sure he fell asleep first, your eyelids crashed closed as you passed out next to him.

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 23 - BFFs or Something More?

Author's Prompt: Beca and Chloe have been best friends since they were two years old. They are going into their Senior Year of High School, and things change. Beca is left out while Chloe is suddenly hanging with the cool kids. Will they remain BFFs? Or is this the end of Beca and Chloe?

Seventeen-year-old Beca Mitchell sat on the top step of her porch staring at the house three doors down on the other side of the street. She was impatiently waiting for her best friend, Chloe Beale, to arrive home from her grandparents, where she had spent the past three months.

Beca missed her best friend and couldn't wait to start their Senior Year together. Beca hoped this would be the year Chloe became more than just Beca's best friend. Beca has had a crush on Chloe for a while now, but Chloe didn't think Beca liked her the way she said she did. Beca is hoping to convince Chloe that her feelings are real.

During their time apart, Beca and Chloe had kept in constant contact on Skype and Facetime, but after a few weeks, Chloe had put a stop to those and insisted they call or text only. Beca was saddened that she couldn't see Chloe even on her phone or computer screen, but she would do anything that Chloe wanted.

Beca heard a noise and looked to see the Beales' car pulling into their driveway. Beca jumped off the steps and ran to her car. She practically squealed her tires as she pulled out of her driveway and made the short trip to Chloe's house. Chloe and her parents all looked over when Beca stopped the car in front of them.

Beca's jaw dropped when she caught sight of Chloe. The girl standing with her parents is not the same girl that left three months ago.

"Wow!" Beca muttered to herself before getting out of the car.

"Beca!" Chloe squealed as Beca rounded the front of the car and made her way over to Chloe.

Chloe grabbed Beca in a hug. "I missed you!"

"I missed you, too," Beca said, pulling back to look at Chloe. She smiled and said, "There's something different about you. Did you cut your hair?"

Chloe smiled and turned to show off her body. "Do I look amazing or what?"

"You always look amazing to me, Chlo," Beca said.

"Stop," Chloe said, blushing as she smacked Beca's arm. "You have to say that 'cause you're my best friend."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," Beca said.

"Come on," Chloe said, grabbing Beca's hand. "We need to catch up."

Chloe dragged Beca into the house and up to the stairs.

"We'll be in my room," Chloe yelled to her parents as she and Beca ran upstairs. "When did you get that car?"

"It's a super early birthday gift from my dad," Beca said. "More like a bribe, so I don't say anything to my mom about his cheating."

"Doesn't your mom know about his cheating?" Chloe asked.

"She does," Beca said, smiling. "But he doesn't know that, hence the car. Plus, this way, he doesn't have to waste time away from Sheila to drop me off at school every morning. He thinks he's slick, but my mom has been on to him for a while. I think they may be heading for a divorce."

"Oh, Beca," Chloe said. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Beca said. "Enough about me. Let's talk about you."

Chloe blushed slightly, and Beca made a big show of looking Chloe up and down, smiling as she did so.

"How did you lose the weight? You've tried every diet you could think of. What worked for you this time?"

"Well, you know I went to visit my grandparents," Chloe said. "What I didn't tell you was they bought a farm, and they only eat what they can grow. Plus, they're like twenty miles from the nearest pizza shop, Taco Bell, and ice cream shop. It was easy to lose weight when all your fat-inducing foods are nowhere to be found."

Chloe chuckled, as did Beca.

"I'm so proud of you, Chlo," Beca said, hugging Chloe. "So, does this mean no trip for our annual back-to-school banana splits?"

"Oh, we'll totes be getting ice cream," Chloe said, standing and holding out her hand to Beca. "I'll just be getting a single scoop cone instead of the banana split. I want a ride in your new car, so you drive."

"Fine by me," Beca said, leading Chloe out the door of her bedroom and down the stairs.

"Mom?" Chloe called out as they reached the front door.

"What's going on, Chloe?" Charlotte Beale asked as she came out of the kitchen.

"Beca and I are going to get ice cream," Chloe said.

"Okay," Charlotte said. "Don't stay out too late; you have school tomorrow."

"Don't worry, Mrs. B, I'll have her back by curfew," Beca said. "Can we bring you some ice cream?"

"Could you bring me a pint of Fudge Ripple?" Charlotte asked. "And a pint of Butter Pecan for Mr. Beale?"

"You got it," Beca said.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

An hour later, Beca was back at the Beales' house without Chloe.

"Beca?" Charlotte said when she answered the door to find Beca standing there alone. "Where's Chloe?"

"She went to the movies with Chicago Walp and his entourage," Beca said. "Here, I brought the ice cream you wanted."

Beca handed Charlotte the bag with her ice cream and turned to walk away.

"Beca, wait!" Charlotte said, causing Beca to turn back to her.

"Yeah?"

"Please come in," Charlotte said. "Tell me what happened and why Chloe didn't come home with you. She didn't call to tell me she was going anywhere else."

"Chloe should be telling you this," Beca mumbled as she followed Charlotte into the kitchen anyway.

Beca stopped just inside the door of the kitchen and leaned her hip against the counter.

"So, tell me," Charlotte said. "Isn't Chicago one of the guys that used to call Chloe and you all kinds of names? And bullied you both endlessly the past couple of years?"

"Yes, he is," Beca said. "But, he's also one of the cool kids, and he came over and started flirting with Chloe, and she apparently liked it." Beca scoffed as she added, "He didn't even know who she was at first."

"What else happened?"

"He asked Chloe to go to the movies with them, and she said yes."

"Did they ask you to go, too?"

"No," Beca said, looking down at the floor. "I'm not one of the cool kids, so they didn't include me. And Chloe just left me sitting there without saying a word to me."

"I'm sure she'll come to talk to you tomorrow," Charlotte said. "She'll apologize, and everything will be back to normal."

"I don't think so," Beca said. "She's been inducted into the cool kids club, and I am definitely not a member, nor will I ever be. I should go; it's getting late, and school starts tomorrow. Have a goodnight, Mrs. B."

Beca quietly left the house.

Charlotte waited up for Chloe to return home. It was past eleven when she heard a noise at the door and opened it to find Chloe kissing some boy she assumed was Chicago.

"Oh," Chloe said, quickly stepping away from Chicago. "Mom, this is Chicago Walp. Chicago, this is my mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Beale," Chicago said, with what he believed to be a charming smile.

"Mm-hmm," Charlotte said, obviously not impressed. "Chloe, it's past your curfew, and you have school tomorrow. Come inside."

"Mo-om!" Chloe whispered, her cheeks turning hot. "You're embarrassing me."

"I don't care," Charlotte said. "Get inside, now!"

Chloe ducked her head to hide her pink cheeks and stepped inside.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Chloe," Chicago said as Charlotte closed the door in his face.

"Mom," Chloe said. "That was rude!"

"Not as rude as leaving your best friend sitting alone while you went off with the guy who bullied you and her for the better part of the past three years," Charlotte said. "And we have a rule in this house that you call if you plan to be out past curfew. And we'll talk about that later. For now, tell me why I had to hear about your change of plans from Beca?"

"What did Beca tell you?" Chloe asked.

"Just that you were invited to go to the movies with that boy and his friends," Charlotte said. "And you left her sitting by herself when you went off with them. She didn't say anything, but I know she was hurt by it. You need to apologize to her tomorrow."

"I'll text her before I go to sleep," Chloe said quietly. "And, I'm sorry I didn't call to tell you where I was."

"Go to bed," Charlotte said, pulling Chloe into a hug. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe said. "Goodnight, mom."

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Chloe went to her room. She was feeling bad about ditching Beca and sent Beca a text.

Chloe (11:20 PM): I'm sorry about leaving you sitting alone. Will you still give me a ride to school in the morning?

Beca was still awake, listening to music when she saw Chloe had texted her.

Beca (11:25 PM): I'll pick you up at 7:40; don't be late.

Chloe (11:27 PM): Awes! Goodnight and I'll see you in the morning.

Chloe snuggled under the covers with a smile on her face. It wasn't long before she fell asleep, dreaming of the kiss she shared with Chicago.

The next morning, Beca awoke to her alarm and got ready for the first day of Senior Year. She re-read Chloe's apology for last night as she grabbed her keys and backpack. Beca hurried down the stairs and went to the kitchen to grab some toast before heading out to pick up Chloe.

"Good morning, my scrappy little Senior," Sarah Mitchell said as she entered the kitchen.

"Morning, mom," Beca responded as she bit into her toast. "Where's dad?"

"I don't know," Sarah said, shrugging her shoulders. "He probably spent the night with his girlfriend."

"Why do you still put up with that shit?"

"Watch your language, young lady."

"I'm sorry," Beca said. "Please don't tell me you're staying with him just because of me. Kick him out. You'd be better off without him. We'd both be better off without him."

"I've already talked to a lawyer," Sarah said, looking at Beca. "I'm just trying to get some things situated before I take the plunge."

"I'll stand by whatever you decide," Beca said, standing to hug her mother. "Just let me know when you make your final decision, okay?"

"I will," Sarah said. "I promise."

"Okay," Beca said. "I have to go. I'm giving Chloe a ride to school."

"Have a good day," Sarah said as Beca headed for the door. "And drive safe."

"Always," Beca called back over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

Chloe started apologizing to Beca as soon as she got into Beca's car.

"Stop it, Chlo," Beca finally said. "I get it. You got swept up in the fact that the cool kids wanted to be with you."

"That's not it at all," Chloe said, pouting at Beca.

"It's not?" Beca countered. "Then what exactly was it if not that?"

"I, um," Chloe stammered. "It, uh-"

"It's exactly like I said it was," Beca said. "To be honest, I would have probably gone with them, too. But I would have invited you along instead of walking away and leaving you sitting there all by yourself. It really hurt when you just left me sitting there alone, Chlo."

"I'm really sorry about that, Beca," Chloe said earnestly.

"I know you are," Beca said. "Doesn't make it hurt any less."

"I promise I'll make it up to you," Chloe said. "I know, we'll do laser tag for your birthday, my treat. Just the two of us. How does that sound?"

"Well, look at that," Beca said with a grin. "I'm feeling a lot less hurt now."

Chloe giggled as Beca pulled into the school parking lot. Beca found a space, and the two friends grabbed their stuff and got out of the car.

"What are you doing after school?" Beca asked.

"Chloe!"

Beca and Chloe both jerked their heads around to see who called out to Chloe. Chloe smiled at seeing Chicago coming toward them. Beca frowned and slammed her car door closed.

"I thought I could walk you to your homeroom," Chicago said when he reached Chloe.

Beca didn't want to be a third wheel to Chicago walking Chloe to class, so she walked off as soon as she heard Chloe tell Chicago she'd love to have him walk her.

"See you at lunch, Becs," Chloe said, looking around expecting to see Beca. "Beca? Where'd she go?"

"She's right there," Chicago said as he pointed toward the school's entrance.

Beca entered the school without looking back at Chloe; she hurried to her homeroom, so she didn't have to see Chicago and Chloe together.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Beca didn't see Chloe again until the third period. She was surprised when Chloe walked in with Aubrey and Stacie, two of the cool kids, but sat next to her.

"How are your classes so far, Beca?" Chloe asked as she sat.

"Okay, I guess," Beca said. "How were yours?"

"They were pretty good," Chloe responded with a smile. "Chicago is in both and sat next to me. I forgot to tell you; he kissed me when he took me home last night."

"Congratulations," Beca replied. "Good for you."

"What were you going to ask me earlier?"

"I was wondering if you were free after school," Beca said. "I really wanted to talk to you about something."

"I'm sorry, Beca, but I already made plans with Chicago," Chloe said. "He offered to take me home, and we're going to study. Can we talk at lunch?"

"You know what?" Beca said, turning to face the front of the room. "Never mind, I'm good."

"Becs?" Chloe questioned, looking at Beca.

"Okay, class, settle down," their History teacher said from the front of the room.

Beca would not look at Chloe. Chloe sighed and faced the teacher.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

It was nearing the end of November, and Beca felt like a terrible friend. She tried to keep her friendship with Chloe going, but Chloe was always doing "something with Chicago" or Aubrey or Stacie. Chloe had become entrenched with the cool kids, leaving her not-so-cool friend behind.

Beca was hurt; she thought she and Chloe had something special. For a while, Beca felt like they would be a couple. Now, they were barely talking and only saw each other in school. Beca hated how much she missed Chloe.

It was nearing Christmas, and Beca's birthday was coming up. The day before Christmas break started, Beca got excited because it looked as if Chloe hadn't forgotten about her best friend after all. Beca had woken to a text from Chloe about her birthday on the twenty-third. Beca responded that she was looking forward to seeing Chloe outside of school and kicking her ass at laser tag. They made arrangements to meet at the Sports Complex on Beca's birthday.

Beca and Chloe didn't speak or text again until Beca's birthday; Chloe was still doing other things with her new friends. Beca continued to hang out with her friends, Fat Amy, Jessica, and Ashley.

Beca's birthday rolled around, and Beca texted Chloe to see if she wanted Beca to pick her up.

Chloe [9:15 AM]: That's okay, Beca. Chicago is driving me.

Beca [9:16 AM: What? You're bringing a date?

Chloe [9:20 AM]: Not a date. Just a few friends who wanted to do laser tag.

Beca [9:21 AM]: Fiends? Like who?

Chloe [9:26 AM]: Just Chicago, Stacie, Aubrey, Tom, and Bumper.

Beca [9:33 AM]: They're not my friends.

Beca threw her phone down and immediately heard her text notification go off.

Chloe [9:35 AM]: Don't be like that, Beca. It will be fun, you'll see.

Beca [9:37 AM]: No thanks. Enjoy YOUR friends. I'll celebrate with MY friends elsewhere.

Chloe [9:40 AM]: But we made plans months ago.

Beca [9:41]: That was when you were my friend.

Chloe [9:42]: I'm still your friend, right?

Chloe [9:45 AM]: Beca? Answer me!

Chloe [9:50 AM]: Beca? Come on. Please, don't be like this.

Chloe [10:00 AM]: Chicago's here and I have to go. Please meet us at the laser tag center. I'll see you there, okay?

"Not gonna happen," Beca muttered as she read the last text from Chloe.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

"Beca!" Sarah called upstairs. "Amy and Jessica are here."

"I thought you were going to do laser tag with Chloe for your birthday," Fat Amy said when Beca joined them.

"She's going with her new friends," Beca said. "They're not my friends, so I decided to spend my birthday with my real friends."

"Are we going to play laser tag?" Jessica asked. "That would be fun."

"I don't want to go where Chloe is," Beca said, pouting. "That was supposed to be our thing for my birthday. Just the two of us."

"Let's go to a movie," Amy suggested.

"That actually sounds like a good idea," Beca said.

Beca drove them to the Mall, and Jessica and Amy treated Beca to lunch before the movie. Beca had a nice time and returned home to find her parents sitting in the living room. Two suitcases were sitting by the door. Beca looked at them and then looked to her parents.

"What's going on?" Beca asked.

"Come sit down, Beca," Sarah said.

"Just tell me," Beca said, remaining by the door.

"I'm leaving," Warren said. "Your mother and I are divorcing. I'm sorry, Beca."

Beca opened the door and grabbed both suitcases. She took them outside and set them on the porch. She came back inside and yelled, "Goodbye, dad!" and ran upstairs.

"Beca!" Sarah yelled after her. She turned to Warren. "Just leave, Warren. I'm sure Sheila is waiting for you."

Warren didn't say anything; he just turned and walked out the door, picking up his suitcases as he went.

Sarah let out a heavy sigh and went upstairs to Beca. She entered Beca's room to find Beca lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Some birthday, huh?" Beca said as her mother sat on the side of the bed. "I lost my best friend and my father all in one day. Happy fucking Birthday to me."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "I tried to get your father to wait until after Christmas, but he wanted to spend Christmas with Sheila."

"I'm sorry, too," Beca said.

"On a happier note, I invited the Beales over for a birthday dinner and cake," Sarah said. "I hope that was okay."

"That's fine," Beca said. "It will be good to see Mr. and Mrs. Beale."

"What about Chloe?" Sarah asked. "It will be good to see her here again."

"Don't count on her being here," Beca mumbled. "I'm sure she's still busy with her new friends."

"I'm sorry she won't be here," Sarah said. "I miss having her around."

"It is what it is," Beca said with a shrug.

"Come on," Sarah said, standing and holding her hand out to Beca. "You can help me with dinner."

"But it's my birthday," Beca whined.

"You're eighteen and considered by most to be an adult now," Sarah said. "Start acting like one."

"You're not supposed to be mean to me on my birthday," Beca said, pouting as she followed her mother to the kitchen.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Beca, her mother, and Mrs. Beale were sitting at the dinner table. Beca pushed her food around on her plate without really eating anything. She was still hurt over Chloe inviting her new friends to Beca's birthday get-together when it was supposed to be just the two of them.

"Carl is sorry he couldn't make it to dinner," Charlotte said. "He has his bowling league tonight. He asked me to wish you a happy birthday for him. And I'm sorry Chloe didn't make it; she's out with Chicago again. I swear I wish she'd dump that boy. He's just too into himself. And he is as fake as the day is long. I don't know what Chloe sees in him."

"He's her first boyfriend," Sarah said. "I know I went gaga over my first 'adult' boyfriend. His name was Gary. I met Warren and broke up with Gary because I thought Warren was a better catch. Look how that turned out; I ended up with a cheater who left me for his mistress. And she's older than I am!"

Beca couldn't help but smile at that. "Dad doesn't deserve you, mom."

Sarah leaned over and kissed Beca on the temple. "He doesn't deserve either one of us, sweetie."

"I always hoped Beca and Chloe would become something," Charlotte said, causing Beca to blush.

"So, did I," Sarah said. "I know Beca would have been happy about that."

"Mom!" Beca said, blushing more.

"I think you should go for it, Beca," Charlotte said. "I know you'd treat her better than Chicago has."

Beca started to say something more when her phone vibrated with a text. She glanced at her phone and was surprised to see it was from Chloe. She ignored it and looked at her mother.

"What kind of cake did you make me?"

"Your favorite," Sarah said. "German chocolate."

"I do love German choc-"

Beca's phone buzzed again with another text from Chloe. Beca furrowed her brow.

"Is something wrong?" Charlotte asked.

"You know that old saying, speak of the devil?" Beca asked. At Charlotte's nod, Beca added, "It's Chloe. She asked me to call her."

"Maybe she wants to make amends," Sarah said. "You should see what she has to say."

"I don't think I'm ready to talk to her yet," Beca said.

"I can't blame you for that," Charlotte said.

Beca's phone rang, startling Beca and causing her to drop the phone; Sarah picked it up.

"It's Chloe," Sarah said, looking at the caller ID.

"I'll answer it if you'd like," Charlotte said.

"That's okay," Beca said, taking the phone from her mother and answering the call. "What do you want, Chloe?"

"Be-Beca, I need your help," Chloe said, causing Beca to sit up straight in her chair. "Please?"

"Chloe, what's wrong?"

"I know you're angry with me, but could you come pick me up?"

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Is Chloe okay?" Charlotte asked.

"I don't know," Beca said, holding the phone away from her mouth. "She's crying and asked me to pick her up."

Beca got back on the phone. "Chloe? Where are you?"

"Makeout Point," Chloe said, and Beca rolled her eyes. "Chicago got mad because I wouldn't have sex with him. He kicked me out of his car and drove off, leaving me stranded."

"I'll kill him," Beca mumbled, standing from the table as Chloe continued talking.

Beca was halfway to the door before Chloe finished talking. "I'm on my way, Chlo," Beca told her. "Are you somewhere safe?"

"I th-think so," Chloe said. "Please hurry. It's dark and I'm scared."

"Beca!" Charlotte called out, causing Beca to turn toward her. "Is Chloe okay?"

"She's a little scared, but otherwise okay," Beca said. "Chicago left her stranded. I'll get her and bring her back here."

"Should I go with you?" Charlotte asked.

"No, ma'am," Beca said. "I'm sure she would have called you if she was in any real danger. I think she called me so we can talk about what happened between us."

"Okay," Charlotte said. "Be careful."

Beca rushed off and jumped into her car.

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Beca made it to Makeout Point in less than ten minutes. She looked around and saw Chloe standing by a tree, so she drove over to her. Chloe jumped into the car and threw herself into Beca's arms. Beca wrapped her arms around Chloe and held her.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked.

"I am now," she said, her voice muffled against Beca's shoulder.

"Your mom is waiting for you at my house," Beca said. "Let's go."

"Okay," Chloe said and sniffled. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"I'd do anything for a friend who needed help, Chlo," Beca said as she started driving. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"It all started when I asked Chicago to take me home after we finished laser tag," Chloe said, tears falling down her cheeks.

Chloe was upset because Beca didn't meet up with her. She didn't blame Beca but still held out hope that she'd be there.

"We're going to get something to eat," Chicago said.

"I'm not hungry," Chloe said. "I just want to go home. I need to talk to Beca and apologize."

"Why are you even friends with her?" Chicago asked. "She's a loser. You're with me now, and I can't have my girlfriend hanging around some gay chick all the time."

"I'm not your girlfriend," Chloe said, looking past Chicago to where Aubrey and Stacie were coming up behind him. "Aubrey, would you take me home, please?

Chicago turned and glared at Aubrey.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," Aubrey said, seeing the look in Chicago's eyes. "I, uh, I can't. Stacie drove me."

"Stacie?"

"I have to get home, so I can't take you either," Stacie said, looking down at the ground.

"Come on, Chlo," Chicago said, smiling as he turned back to face Chloe. "Let's get something to eat, and then I promise I'll take you home."

Chloe thought about her options. It was a half-hour ride home (and a much longer walk), and she knew her parents were busy and couldn't come to get her. Realizing she didn't have any other choice, Chloe agreed.

After eating as fast as she could, Chloe and Chicago left the diner and drove off. A few minutes later, Chloe noticed they weren't going toward her house.

"Chicago?" Chloe said, looking over at him. "You promised you'd take me home after we ate."

"I have to make a quick stop first," Chicago said.

"I'd rather go straight home," Chloe said.

Chicago ignored Chloe and turned off the main road. It was at this point that Chloe realized where he was taking her. Her jaw dropped open as Chicago parked and turned off the car.

"Makeout Point?!" Chloe yelled. "Are you kidding me? I am not making out with you, Chicago."

"That's not exactly why I brought you here," Chicago said, leering at Chloe. "We've been dating for three months, and it's time for you to give it up."

"Give it up?" Chloe screeched. "I am not having sex with you, either!"

"You either give me what I want," Chicago said. "Or you can get out and find your own way home."

Chloe glared at Chicago as she unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car. Chicago was screeching away before Chloe could close the car door.

Chloe stood and watched as Chicago drove off, leaving her stranded.

"I didn't know what else to do," Chloe said, wiping at her tears. "I knew my dad was out, and my mom was going to be at your house, so I called you. I'm just glad you answered because I really didn't want a lecture from her; she's never liked Chicago."

"I can't say as I blame her for that," Beca said.

Beca didn't say anything more as she pulled her car into the driveway; Charlotte and Sarah had been watching for them and ran out to the car. The girls got out, and Charlotte grabbed Chloe into a hug. Chloe let out a sob and buried her head in her mother's shoulder.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Charlotte asked.

"I'm okay, mom," Chloe whispered.

"Why don't we go inside?" Sarah said. "We can have Beca's cake and end this night on a bit of a high note."

"Can we, mom?" Chloe asked. "I really want to celebrate Beca's birthday."

"Thank you, Sarah," Charlotte said. "We'd love to stay for a bit."

~~ Day 23 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

After they were done eating cake, Chloe turned to Beca.

"Beca, can I talk to you? In private."

"Why don't you take Chloe up to your room so you can talk," Sarah said. "Charlotte and I will visit for a bit."

"Sure," Beca said. "Come on, Chloe, we can talk in my room."

Chloe stood and followed Beca out of the kitchen and up to her room. Beca stood near her dresser and looked at Chloe.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Beca asked.

"I'm fine," Chloe said. Seeing the skeptical look on Beca's face. "Really. I am. Okay?"

"Okay," Beca mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Chloe blurted out. "I'm sorry for becoming one of them. I'm sorry I let them take over my life. I'm sorry I hurt you."

Chloe was in tears, and Beca stood looking at her.

"I'm just so sorry about everything that's happened in the past few months," Chloe said. "Can you ever forgive me? I miss you; I miss us."

Beca reached out and pulled Chloe into a hug. Chloe fell into the hug and buried her face in Beca's shoulder.

"I love you, Chloe," Beca said. "Of course, I can forgive you. Plus, we're best friends for life, remember?"

Chloe let out a small sob. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."

"So, um, your mom said something interesting at dinner tonight," Beca said. "Something I'd like to explore when you're ready. I mean, if you want to."

"What did she say?"

"She said she had hoped that we would become something more than friends."

"I can't believe she told you about my crush on you!"

"I swear she didn't say anything about a crush. Apparently, she thinks I'd take good care of you."

"Wait! You said it was something you'd like to explore?" Chloe asked. "You mean you like me as more than a friend?"

"Yes," Beca said. "I've always liked you, Chloe. You just never believed me when I told you."

"I, um, I didn't think you could like someone like me," Chloe said.

"Someone like you?" Beca asked, looking at Chloe. "You mean, the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met? How could I not like you?"

"But, I was fat and not attractive," Chloe said, not believing Beca.

"You were always pretty to me, Chlo," Beca said. "And you deserve to be with someone who treats you right no matter what. I'd like to be that someone if you'll have me."

Chloe smiled as the tears were falling down her face. "I would definitely like that."

"Good," Beca said. "We'll talk later and make plans for our first date. Okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said. "Can I kiss you before we go back downstairs?"

Beca responded by leaning in and kissing Chloe.

"Wow," Chloe said, pulling out of the kiss with a smile. "I could get used to that. I can't wait to tell my mom about us."

Beca smiled and took Chloe's hand. She led them downstairs to find Sarah and Charlotte hurriedly rushing to sit on the sofa.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Beca asked, looking at the two women.

"No," Charlotte said. "But, I'm so happy for you both. And, I guess this means you and Sarah will be spending Christmas with us?"

"It does," Beca said, smiling at Chloe. "It most definitely does."

"It is tradition," Chloe said, reaching over to pull Beca into a kiss.

"Happy birthday, Beca," Chloe whispered.

"And Merry Christmas to you," Beca whispered back.

A/N: I know it's kind of long, but the words kept coming (sorry, not sorry). Thanks for sticking with me to the end.

[blue-bird-on-a-wire]

Vercopa (Hope)

gif credit: @coredrive​

Part 1 of the Gar Cuyir Yaim series

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,620

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x (Y/n) with she/her pronouns

Warnings: Jabba’s slave culture, violence, threat of unwanted sexual harassment. This takes place in a universe where Jabba never died in Return of The Jedi (maybe he passed out or something).

Summary: All (Y/n) can remember is being sold to Jabba at a young age. She has grown up within his palace walls, hears tales of great warriors called Mandalorians. Just as she faces what may be her last few days alive, a big blue Mandalorian shows up.

A/N: Hi! This is my first time posting a fic on Tumblr. You can also find this on Ao3 under B1ue_Bird_0n_A_Wire. Please feel free to give feedback, as I don’t have a beta reader and often miss spelling mistakes. Or if you feel there need to be more warnings/other warnings, feel free to DM me! I don’t bite 😊. Enjoy!

The room was always full and loud, bustling with music from the band and conversation between various criminals. It was a place full of sleemos making deals, only to backstab each other when the twin suns set. The smell of sweat left a foul taste in your mouth, but it was easier to ignore the longer you stayed. One might say this palace was full of life if not for the giant slug who controlled everyone within it. All who stayed there were either a slave through debt or in chains.

I was not so lucky as to be a slave through debt. I could not work my way out of slavery, for I was in chains.

Sold to Jabba as a girl, almost all of my life had been within his palace walls. I had been a server while growing up. Hardly anyone ever paid attention to me as I scrambled around the place. I served and refilled drinks, or cleaned up after “guests” who died by the hand of Jabba's goons.

My biggest fear, aside from the rancor pit beneath my feet, was being turned into one of Jabba’s dancers. He went through them faster than a womp rat could scurry through an alleyway at night. If Jabba’s rancor wasn’t fed by someone who failed to pay back their debt, it was fed by a dancer after Jabba grew tired of them. A pretty face would only last so long.

I had learned a lot from listening to bounty hunters tell stories about their travels. My favorites were the stories about the Mandalorians. They were warriors who lived by a strict code and valued family just as much as they valued their weapons or beskar armor.  

As a child, I would dream of these Mandalorians coming to Jabba’s palace, and taking me away. They would raise me to be one of them like I was a foundling. I wanted to be strong like a Mandalorian too, in how they could strike fear into even the most dangerous criminals with only a tilt of their head.

Although I had never seen one before, I knew they wore what was called beskar armor, and were not allowed to take off their helmets. Some people said they would paint their armor a different color from the shiny silver of beskar metal. I remember overhearing a conversation about Mandalorian traditions in regards to their loyalty and the love for their children. I painted a picture in my head of these great warriors and idolized them as the heroes in my daydreams. I never thought I would meet a real one.

~ ~ ~

“‘Nother round o’ spotchka!” a bounty hunter called as I walked past his table. “An’ ‘Urry it up, Babe!”

I did my best to refrain from rolling my eyes as I quickly made my way to the bar.

The thin metal collar around my neck rubbed at my skin as I turned my head to look up at the bartender. It was a constant reminder of my place within this hierarchy, though after so long I had nearly grown numb to the pain. 

“Spotchka please, for table six,” I said, watching as the bartender took a glance behind me to make sure there was actually someone at that table.

There were no true friends here. It was almost a rule to expect lies coming from everyone's mouth. Besides, Jabba had issues with his slaves and alcohol consumption in the past, hence the unease for my honesty (not that I had ever been dishonest with this bartender before). The bartender turned around and pulled a glass from off the shelf. He filled it with the glowing blue alcohol and slid it across the bar table.

I smiled at him, picked up the glass, and gave a nod in thanks.

Though I did my best to ignore it, my neck burned at the gesture. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a little bit of bacta gel from one of the closets downstairs. I planned to sneak in there while no one was watching. Maybe I could find a few moments to myself as well, away from the hustle and bustle of the people in the throne room.

“Took ya long enough, Babe. I was startin’ to think ya ‘ad forgotten abou’ me,” the bounty hunter said as I returned with his alcohol. He stroked his patchy beard and eyed me up and down while I set his drink on the table.

I kept my gaze cast downward with my lips tightly pressed together. All I wanted was to get in and out without being noticed, but as I have grown older that had become much harder to do.

Just as I turned to leave, I saw the bounty hunter pick up the glass and dump its contents on the floor.

“Oops,” he said. “Guess ya gotta clean that up, Babe.”

I could feel my face heating up, knowing full well what game he was playing at. I wasn’t stupid. I had seen guests do this to other slave girls before. It never ended well for one or the other person.

I pulled a rag hanging from my belt, as it was common for me to be cleaning up spills. Instead of bending over, I chose to keep my front facing the bounty hunter and squat in order to wipe up the blue alcohol.

“‘Ome on now, Babe! Don’ be tha’ way,” the bounty hunter wined, banging his fist on the table as I stood up.

“Would you like another drink?” I asked, plucking the now empty glass from the table.

“Betta’ watch ya tone with me, ‘ittle one. I’m sure Jabba woulden’ wanna ‘ear abou’ trouble comin’ fro’ ya.”

I smiled, though it did not reach my eyes. “I’ll take that as a no,” I said and walked away to dispose of the rag and fetch a new one. I felt proud of myself, though the feeling did not last very long.

“Jabba!”

The throne room grew quiet with the bounty hunters' booming voice.

My blood ran cold and I froze in place.

Jabba finished chewing on a roasted frog before grumbling out in huttese.

“The great and powerful Jabba demands to know what you want, bounty hunter,” translated the crime lord’s red protocol droid.

The middle-aged man stood from his seat, drunkenly staggering up to Jabba’s throne.

“Don’ ya think tha’ pretty ‘ittle server ovah there,” the bounty hunter pointed at me. “Odda make a good danca?”

I thought my knees were going to collapse. I could feel my fingers twitching around the glass, and my eyes widened as I watched him.

Jabba paused for a moment before speaking.

“The all mighty Jabba wants to know what makes you say this,” droned the protocol droid.

The man looped his fingers through his belt while he turned to look at me. “She’s been ‘ere for a long time, Jabba. She’s experienced with this crowd. I’d imagine she’d make herself more useful to ya in tha’ way before her expiration date.”

My heartbeat was picking up speed with every second this dragged on. My expiration date? What, were they planning to kill me once I reached a certain age or something?

Jabba spoke again, his tone was much harsher than before.

“The great and powerful Jabba says you should not be telling him what to do.”

“Oh! Bu’ o’ course not! Look, Jabba, all I’m askin’ is tha’ ya-”

Jabba cut the bounty hunter off and spoke more aggressively.

Everyone in the room flinched back at his tone, even the protocol droid.

“The all mighty Jabba says you are in no position to be making deals, bounty hunter.”

“Jabba! Jabba! Now, wait a minute and jus’ liste-”

The overgrown slug slammed his fist down on a button on his throne, opening the rancor pit.

Gasps could be heard through the room as the bounty hunter fell into the beast’s layer.

The crowd quickly swarmed around the grates on the floor, subsequently pushing me forward as well. They laughed and jeered as the rancor was released from its cage.

I felt my stomach churn as I listened to the bounty hunter screaming and pleading for his life. I would never understand the appeal of watching a monster devour people.

At least that man would never pray on anyone ever again.

As the rancor picked up the helpless bounty hunter and swallowed him whole, the crowd let out a big cheer.

I was nearly elbowed in the face with all the commotion before the crowd pulled back and dispersed to where they had been before.

I shuffled backward with everyone, the breath I had been holding was finally released.

This must have meant I would remain a server after all.

Jabba finished laughing, and I began to leave and fetch another towel when I heard my name leave his slimy lips.

Oh boy.

I halted in my steps, dread shooting back down to the pit of my belly. I turned on my heels, knowing one should never leave Jabba waiting.

“Yes, great and powerful Jabba?” I squeaked out, quiet enough that I wasn’t sure I had been heard at all.

Jabba hummed before he spoke.

“The all mighty Jabba says the bounty hunter was stupid, but made a good point,” explained the protocol droid. “You are getting old, and your youth will not last for much longer.”

I didn't think I was that old. I must have been in my 20′s at least. If I wasn't so terrified, I might have been offended.

I tried to control my trembling but my muscles ached with the effort. Was it hot in that room, or was it just me?

Jabba gestured to some of his goons as he continued to speak.

“He says you have one rotation to learn the dances.”

One of Jabba’s goons grabbed me by my upper arm, dragging me away into the back of the Palace while the music resumed and chatter once again filled the palace.

I had no words, but my thoughts were running a mile a minute. This was it. This would be my death. Within a week I would be eaten by the seething monster below if I wasn’t sold off to a bounty hunter as payment or reward for a job well done.

I couldn't even dance! How was I supposed to learn to dance in twenty-four hours? I could probably wiggle like a Hutt, but nothing more elaborate than that!

Who was I kidding? With my only skills as a scurrying little waitress, my lack of grace when it comes to moving my body in any fashion, and my definitely-not-as-beautiful-as-a-twi'lek’-body there was no way I would survive even an hour on that throne.

Before I could register what was happening, I was being fitted into royal blue undergarments underneath a black fishnet jumpsuit. The outfit left hardly anything to the imagination. This was something I had once seen a green twi'lek girl wearing several years ago. Oola, I believe was her name. It seemed as though Jabba had someone fish her outfit from the inside of his pet’s belly. Maybe it was worth more than it looked, but I would not want to be the one assigned the task of retrieving it.

I was shoved into a secluded room, where a holo-vid with a skinny-looking rodian was showing demonstrations for various dance moves.

As soon as Jabba’s goon left, I began to watch the rodian. I stood and tried to copy his gestures and from, but ultimately I stumbled over myself and was left winded.

Late into the night, I continued to practice until the soles of my bare feet hurt. I could already feel the blisters I would have in a few hours, and I had grown frustrated.

I was about ready to completely give up, curl into a ball on the floor, and cry myself to sleep. It felt useless anyhow. The rancor probably already knew my name, and was just waiting for me down below.

I felt hopeless, at least until I began to think about those Mandalorian stories.

I was sure a Mandalorian would never give up. They probably fought until their very last breath even when they knew the end was staring them straight in the eyes.

I took a deep breath, grounded myself, and did the best that I could to fight through the pain, tiredness, and hopelessness that threatened to break me.

Keeping track of my feet while also making sure to move my arms and put on a smile was difficult. It was like juggling glasses of spotchka while walking on a tightrope over a Sarlacc pit. However, I was determined to figure it out.

I would not be a pathetic little thing who laid down at death's door. I was going to fight with everything I had, even though I felt like I was attacking a Krayt Dragon with a spoon.

Come morning, my muscles were stiff and ached. I was covered in layers of sweat, but I knew I had done all I could to prepare myself to go out with a bang.

I was led to the sonic showers, where I cleaned myself up before donning that same dancer's outfit as before. It was as though the whole outfit screamed my designation as a slave, with the revealing design meant for the pleasure of anyone but the wearer.

No matter, I fixed my hair and kept my chin up as I was escorted back to the throne room.

Sure enough, Jabba was waiting with a heavy-looking chain in hand.

He said something in huttese that the protocol droid did not translate before he clasped the chain to a loop in the front of my collar.

I had never been this close to the crime lord before, but I swore his breath could kill alone. That must have been how he had risen to power, as I just could not imagine Jabba as a fighter who won his way to victory through blaster fire or skill with a vibroblade. No, he most defiantly must only need to burp to murder everyone within the room. If I didn’t know any better, I would say the entire palace only smelled so badly because of him.

"The great and powerful Jabba commands you to sit," says the protocol droid.

It was only then that I realized Jabba had addressed me, as he gestured to a spot on his throne beside his tail.

I moved to that spot and crossed my legs as I sat there, the chain swaying heavily with my movements.

I lifted a hand to rub the irritated skin around my neck, only to flinch away as the touch of my fingers stung my skin. Perhaps touching my wounds was worse in the long run. Disappointment filled me knowing there would be no way to get ahold of that batch gel now.

I wondered how difficult it would be to dance with the giant chain connected to my collar because of the extra weight it put on my neck.

Soon enough, the crowd in the throne room was as lively as ever, with the band playing their repetitive upbeat melodies.

For a few hours, not once did Jabba command me to dance, and for that I was grateful. My bare feet were allowed a few hours of rest, while my mind was allowed to wander.

Would it hurt to die? Would I feel my soul slipping from my body? What would happen in death? Would everything go black or would there be something waiting beyond it? My mind was spiraling and all I could focus on was my inevitable doom.

That was until a new bounty hunter entered the palace.

Thud. Thud. Thud. His steps were heavy.

He was huge, dressed from head to toe in blue armor. Easily 6’6”, this man could command the room with his size alone.

I struggled to find what he was looking at, as the dark visor on his helmet left no clues as to where his eyes wandered.

Jabba laughed as he spotted the bounty hunter. He raised his arms in welcome.

"The all mighty Jaba wonders what you are doing here, Mandalorian," translated the protocol droid.

Mandalorian? Wait a minute. This was a Mandalorian?

I felt my face heat up in embarrassment while my spine straightened a little. I had been waiting for a Mandalorian my whole life, but it occurred to me at that moment I was dressed in something so revealing when one finally showed up. I hoped he wouldn’t notice me, but I was right beside Jabba which made that very unlikely.

He looked so much more powerful than I had imagined those of his creed to be. This man would be able to take on a rancor just by barreling into it, given how much he looked like a tank. There was no doubt in my mind anymore about how Mandalorians were able to tame the great Mythasaures on their homeworld.

There was something about him that was also familiar. Perhaps it was the black visor which hid his eyes, or simply the general design of his armor. I felt like I had seen those of his kind before, though I swore I had never met a Mandalorian before. Surely I must have been creating false memories for myself.

The Mandalorian paused in front of Jabba's throne, and it became apparent he made sure not to stand above the entrance to the rancor pit.

"I mean you no trouble, Jabba. I am only seeking out a bounty said to be hiding within your palace," the Mandalorian said. His voice was deep and raspy, like the rumbling of a generator just before it reaches full power.

As Jabba again spoke in his native language, I noticed the Mandalorian’s helmet tilt in my direction and his shoulders tensed.

There was no way he was looking at me, right! It had to of been someone behind me.

He was definitely looking at me, and I was trembling from both fear and excitement under his gaze. He could shoot everyone in this room if he wanted to and not suffer a scratch from it.

From the bottom of my heart, I hoped he was here for me, though I knew those thoughts to be childhood fantasies. I had lost hope long ago of seeing the stars one last time before I would die in this place.

"The wise Jaba asks who you are looking for."

The Mandalorian’s focus snapped back to Jabba. He unclipped a bounty puck from his belt. "I am here for someone that owes a debt to the crime lord, Twene Shias, here on Tatooine."

Jabba, as well as the crowd gasped. He pulled back and began to gesture wildly, which caused my chain to be inconsiderately tugged.

I tried not to choke at the movement while I scooted closer to the giant slug in an attempt to ease the pressure on my neck.

Jabba hummed before his protocol droid said, "The great and powerful Jabba, though shocked, wants to make a deal. He says he will hand over whoever you are looking for, in return for the murder of this Twene Shias."

The Mandalorian paused for a moment. "This bounty I am after is worth much less than the head of this other crime lord. Surely, as a part of one of the most powerful and wealthy crime syndicates, you can offer me a little bit more than this."

Jabba considered the Mandalorian’s words with small nods of his head.

"Jabba the Hutt says that although this is already a generous offer, he wants to know what else you might want."

The big blue Mandalorian nodded while he gestured with his helmet in my direction.

"How about her?"

Me? Was he serious?

Jabba burst into laughter, the crowd within the palace following suit.

I felt my face heat up and my heart jumped into my throat. I turned my head away from the Mandalorian, fiddling with my skimpy outfit.

I must have been dreaming. There was no way this mandalorian was referring to me. If he was, he had no clue just how useless I would be to him.

Once Jabba was able to get a hold of his laughter, he spoke again.

"The all mighty Jabba says this girl is not worth anything. She is a servant in this palace with no skill sets of value to a Mandalorian such as yourself," explained the droid. "That is, unless you are a Mandalorian with other needs."

The blue armored man scoffed. “Then Jabba can spare one measly dancer in exchange for the murder of a rivaling crime lord.”

Jabba, whose pride was easily wounded, wasted no time to correct his words.

“The great and powerful Jabba says that if this is what you wish, he will gladly transfer ownership of the girl to you after you bring back this crime lord’s head.”

I felt my heart skip a beat as my head shot up to look at the Mandalorian.

Oh my gosh, he was serious. I would belong to a Mandalorian? What would this mean? What would he want with me?

The Mandalorian puffed out his chest, “You have a deal. Now, where is the toydarian, Drob Tufme?”

Jabba gestured to some of his goons behind him, who quickly entered the crowd.

Yelling could be heard from near the bar before a hunched-over toydarian was shoved onto the floor at the Mandalorian’s feet. “Hey! Hey!” Drob Tufme shouted, scrambling to stand up. “I didn’t do nothin’! I don’t got no debt!”

The Mandalorian quickly shoved Drob to his knees, running the blinking red fob over his head before clipping it back onto his belt.

“Doesn't matter,” said the Mandalorian while he cuffed Drob.

The Mandalorian pulled Drop to his feet and gave Jabba a nod before he turned and dragged the squirming toydarian out of the palace.

There was a pause before the quiet throne room burst back to life with the Mandalorian now gone. It was as though a weight had been lifted from everyone’s shoulders.

It was at that moment a new realization came over me. I wasn’t going to die in this horribly smelly place. I wouldn't be eaten by the monster below, nor shot by stray blaster fire. I refused to allow myself to think about what my life would be like in the hands of this Mandalorian. I did not want to believe my circumstances could get any worse than they already were. Perhaps it was simply for the preservation of my sanity, but I felt giddy inside that my childhood fantasy of being taken away by a Mandalorian was sort of coming true. One should never give up on childish hopes.

(Part 2 coming soon!)

If you would like to be added to/taken off of the tag list, please tap/click this link Tag List & More 💕 

[bavrenilia]

yandere headcannons | om!satan

tw: manipulation, dubcon, finger fucking, degradation, exhibitionism if you can read until the end, kitty and kitten as petnames.

Satan

ー It started as a friendly encounters when you started to live with them, he wasn’t the most comfortable person around other people but something in the way you smiled at him so sweetly made him want to let his guard down even if it was just a slight slip.

 ー You being sweet was nothing new to the ones around you; always being patient withe everyone, listening to them carefully, eyes never leaving their orbs as your attention was fixated on the person right in front of you. Satan found it sweet, sickeningly sweet if he had to say the truth.

 ー But when he had a lot of time to stand back and watch you, examine you with his sparkling but also dark eyes something snapped in him; a voice becaoming way too loud in his head telling him that you were looking like a cute little prey whenever you looked around with those pretty eyes of yours.

 ー You were easy to talk to, easy to keep close because you were a human standing right in the middle of devils. A cute dumb prey, his mouth would always dry to the thought of this nicknames. Satan was the hunter, waiting for the right time to strike and get a hold of his pretty little and innocent prey.

 ー With you, of course, he didn’t have to wait that long. He was smart, much smarter than you could’ve ever think of. He knew how to push the right buttons, what to say to you, how to make you shy, when to have you all to himself.

 ー You liked to talk to him too, he was always nice to you. Eating lunch with you, listening to your ramblings very carefully, not laughing at you when you embarrass yourself, always trying to take care of you in his own way- which meant a strong arm holding you by your shoulders or your waist sometimes.

 ー He knew what to say to you, he always knew how to talk yo into anything. Getting Lucifer mad? You were scared of the eldest brother’s reaction but Satan would protect you, he would never let you get hurt in any way. Reading book together late into the night? You were sleepy but he knew how to keep you awake.

 ー You knew that he was kinda getting jealous of you hanging out with others but you just shrugged it off as you thought it wasn’t a big deal- he was a fucking grown-ass demon for fucks sake. Of course he wouldn’t get jealous of a human like you. This idea didn’t make you sad at all, on the contrary it made you feel relieved.

 “Ah, you’re late tonight”, Satan gave you a soft smile when you entered his room with you eyes half closed, his silly girl.. what if you bump into something and hurt yourself? He stood up and walked to you, his free hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you to his bed.

“ ’m sleepy”, you mumbled as you made yourself comfortable in his bed- a familiar scent filling your lungs and a warmth letting you loosen up. Look at you, with your lashes almost touching your pink cheeks and your soft lips parted slightly- oh, you were so at his mercy. He could do anything to you, he coukd have his way with you and you’d lie in his bed all worn out looking at him with glossy eyes.

He would love to do that, but not when you’re out of his reach and tight grip. He had you, if course, but it was just a friendship that grew bigger and sweeter as the time passed by. Since you lived with them, becoming comfortable with each other was nothing but expectable- the second reason was the way you two had almost identical tastes in almost everything. The more he learnt about you, the more he felt like you were completing him.

There was a soft smile on his face as he watched you trying to keep your eyes open as you breathed deeply, your eyelids were literally fighting their greatest battle against your will. His eyes started to wander, taking in your delicious sight. You had an oversized shirt coming down to cover your soft thighs, his breath getting heavier and heavier while he kept examining your delicate body. You were so, so weak- so dumb, how could you let your guard down right in front of the very predator who had every type of dream and fantasy about you.

To his luck, he made you comfortable enough to sit on his lap while you two read- he didn’t know how you didn’t reject him, how you didn’t say that you’d be fine on the bed sitting right next to him. It was probably because you were too tired and cold since the temperature difference in Devildom always caught you off guard.

His smile dropped in an instant when he realized the shirt, realized its owner. “This lowlife of a demon”, he mumbled under his breath before putting the book on the bed, you perked your head up to see if he called out to you. “Did you say something?”, you asked, voice raspy and somehow low since you were swinging between falling asleep and staying awake. You promised him, after all. You always kept your promises.

Getting no answer from Satan made you furrow your eyebrows slightly, every reaction of you giving his heart a tight squeeze.

“Why are you wearing Mammon’s shirt?”

Your reply followed his question quickly, almost as if you started to realize the dangerous aura that filled the room.

“I didn’t even notice when I picked it up from the laundry, I messed it up and accidentally took a shirt of Leviathan too. I chose this shirt without looking at it, I’ll give it back to him.”

No response.

You watched him as his eyes darkened a little but you just ignored, maybe that was the worst decision you’ve ever made. Ignoring the very obvious signs in front of you, playing the dumb most of the time.. maybe, it really was the worst idea.

But whenever you caught Satan’s sudden change of aura, it was gone in a blink. His eyes were back to normal, shinning brightly while looking at you- his lips curled into a soft smile as he took the book and lay down right next to you.

“Will you read for me tonight, sweetheart?”, his voice was like a purr in your ear, hot breath caressing the shell of it as you gulped thickly. You always read to him and he always read to you but.. what was off? What was making you feel uneasy, whose voice was it telling you to run? You ignored everything, again, like you always did because how could you not? Sagan would never hurt you, he was there ti protect his little human friend after all- he cared about you, and it was true. He cared about you so, so much that it drove him crazy sometimes.

“Of course”, a wave of sleep hit you again as you took the book he was handing to you, fingers brushing softly and making your heart skip a beat. He was looking good, way too good while he was in bed with you like this. His hair was soft and messy, in it’s most natural shape you’ve always like to see. He was wearing comfortable clothes instead of the RAD uniform and his daily choice of fit.

You turned to your side since the moonlight coming from the window was hitting your face instead of hitting the book. Satan followed you movements and did the same as you, his body pressed against yours. You should be used to it by now because you always held you close to himself in your reading sessions; at first it was your hands or arms brushing slightly, then Satan held your hand and started to draw invisible circles- sensation was relaxing in every possible way, your hands fitting in with his way too perfectly. And when it became a habit and you started to hold his hand as soon as you two buried your heads into your books, Satan’s hand started to rest on your thigh, a little higher, and a little higher again; his hands roamed around your body like it was such a normal thing to do. It felt normal, it felt soothing, it felt like his hand belonged to your body. And all of these things turned into something much bigger, to your suprise. You, sitting on his lap- sometimes him making you move slightly to get in a more comfortable position and you could swear that every time he held the side of your thighs softly and moved you, you could feel him; his leg pressing against between your legs.. such a dirty little human you were.. making up scenarios in your head to get what you want.

Satan threw his arm over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, you were feeling all warm again- actually way too warm you could just sleep but no, you promised him. A promise. You started to read the book and it actually made you sleepier, until Satan’s hand found its way to between your legs. Your mind was torn in between- did your body froze or did you actually try to free yourself from his grip.

“Satan?”, you breathed out his name and it sounded music to his ears, you weren’t even aware of how you sounded. Just like a cute little kitty, purring and mewling as his palm pressed right into the part you actually wanted to get some friction.

Your mind went blank as you realized your train of thoughts?

You wanted him to touch you?

Realization made your cheeks burn with shame and embarrassment as you squirm under his tight grip and delicate fingers.

“Ssh, keep reading kitten”, his voice was calm, completely fine as he acted like nothing was happening. You wanted to get up, but you also wanted to trap his hand between your thighs. How could you think like that? He’s always protected you and you were just thinking about this lewd stuff? Satan would be so disappointed in you if he ever heard that.

“I..I can’t”, you said breathlessly. “Stop-ah, stop touching me.”

“And why would I do that?”

Nothing came out of your mouth as he kept moving his fingers painfully slow, feeling your warmth and wetness even though you had your panties.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, and don’t make the same mistake again. If you don’t want me to tear that fucking shirt into two- keep reading.”

Satan almost growled and your face got even hotter, even redder as you tried to hold up the book with your shaky hands. Why couldn’t you say no? You knew that he’d immediately stop if you told him in a serious and demanding manner- but why your voice sounded so desperate even when you asked him to stop?

You started to read the book again, mind hazy as all you wanted to do was rock against his palm. Words were nothing but blur at this point when he pulled your panties to the side and a broken sob escaped from your lips.

“What did I tell you?”

“I can’t, I can’t, I just-”

“You can’t what? Can’t you focus on the book in your hand? Your dumb little brain is so full of dirty thoughts, hm?”

You wanted to say no, you didn’t want to disappoint him but instead a soft moan escaped your lips.

“Read, kitten. This is your last warning”, he was enjoying the view way too much, holding himself barely back to grind on your bare thighs as he did all the magic with his fingers.

Your head thrown back and resting on his shoulder, you shuddered- the petname he called you seemed to be appealing to your taste. Instead of turning your attention to the book, you dropped it off on the mattress and wrapped your fingers around Satan’s wrist; just to make him move his hand a bit faster, a bit deeper and then you’d read to him. You’d read to him till morning.

But Satan wasn’t really the most patient one when it comes to slutty bitches like that. He quickly hovered over you, his two fingers were now knuckles deep inside you as he grabbed the hem of the shirt with his free hand- his teeth holding the other side.

“Silly kitty, you should’ve listened to me in the first place”, he growled as the shirt you took as a mistake tore up in two, your mind’s too foggy to actually get a hold of the happenings around you.

His hand moved faster, faster and faster- rubbing and touching all the right places and it didn’t take you long to came around his fingers. Satan got up, licking his fingers clean before grabbing his phone to call Mammon. Everything settled in when you came down from your high, panic rising in your chest as you heard Mammon’s voice from the speaker.

“What do ya want this late, Satan?”

Satan’s eyes never leaving yours, a smirk lighting up his face in the dim lighted room; he answered.

“There’s a dumb little thief who wants to give you something that belongs to you.”

It was humiliating, your eyes filled with tears as you lay there unable to move. You fucked up, you knew you fucked up but whenever your eyes met with his suspicious green orbs your mind stopped working. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard Mammon’s footsteps approaching, you wanted to cover yourself before the second oldest barges in. But it was too late when your glossy eyes met with Mammon’s widened ones; looking at your slightly shaking body, your soaked panties that were pushed aside, his shirt that torn in two and resting on your limp body and your red face. He stood there, in pure shock before leaving as quickly as he came. Satan’s amused laughs filled your ears as he approached you. “You should’ve known better, kitten.”

 ー Satan doesn’t like to share, not even a bit but he takes a great pride in the fact letting his brothers know that he’s the only one- and would be, who turns you into a mess.

 ー You wouldn’t even realize that you’re being manipulated, slowly being consumed by his every little action. Even if he uses you /he actually told you that he’s trying to make you feel really good, and taking care of you/ you simply can’t turn your back in him.

 ー You depend on him, clumsy human. How could you talk back to him? How could you say no? If he wanted to, he could eat you alive in a second- but you’re lucky, you’re too lucky that he wants to keep you by his side forever.

 ー Since he has a way with his sugar coated words, he also knows how to shatter you in pieces. Always picking the right word to make you feel small, weak, uneasy in front of him. But that’s okay because he’ll take good care of you, he’ll make sure that you become so strong- you’ll be able to protect yourself one day.

 ー Gets jealous not so easily, but gets angsty way too quickly. He likes to let others know that you belong to him, that you’re his stupid little kitten, his weak human. But he gets angry when you spend more than a two or three minutes with someone else.

 ー Constantly ask you if you plan to leave him behind, if you go back to your world and never remember him. His voice comes out so, so sad. Your heart starts to bear faster every time he talks about this stuff. You place your hand on his cheeks, promise him that you’ll be by his side forever.

[localshitpostforpoorme]

Angie’s lullaby

“Atua is always watching us!“

“If you feel lonely, try to think about Him once more.“

Moon showed up a few hours ago moving slowly. Cold winter nights brought the sad mood of lone wolves calling for pack members to find them. So depressing. You are tired and unmotivated to do anything. The only rational thought was about going to bed. You wore your pajamas and turned off the lamp but a bright blue light appeared just then you went to sleep.

Were you asleep?... By opening your eyes, you found yourself at the beach. A girl is levitating while sitting in a lotus position right next to you and the other transparent figures of familiar yet exotic living creatures.

“Om'' She spoke softly. “What an exciting night. Angie sees.“

That’s true. It’s almost the 14th of February so you can’t sleep without thinking of spending that day alone.

“Lost souls shouldn’t worry.“ Creatures, including you, stare at Yonaga with disbelief. ‘How can I not worry? I never had someone to feel an actual love on Valentine's Day.‘ The most of the others shared that thought. Were you about to reject the possibility of a romantic relationship? Did you feel cursed? Even if you and your partner are not going to be a real couple, there still is a point of love-sharing acts. Does it sound wrong? Unreal? You had no clue...

“Have doubts?“ Angie put her hands above her head in a praying gesture. “Atua says we must forget all selfish wishes and focus on things beyond the stereotypes.“

She’s body started to glow with mixed purple and blue. Sand around her is shining, too. Smooth waves of warmth touched you from the forehead and speared across the whole of your one-color shell.

“Sweet loners. Living a life all by yourself when no one could prepare hot meals for you to eat, give you a hand to stand up, take care of your health if you are sick... “ Angie kept talking, you couldn’t recognize her words anymore.

It is a hard cold reality you got used to. Hugging yourself you think of such simple couple routines like sharing a place and money, going on dates, making small gifts, planning a marriage.

“Is that a love you dreamed about?“ Everyone was taken aback by a loud interruption. “Is your view of love based on material things?“

“Atua has spoken. He says we got the concept of feelings oh so wrong.“ 

But isn’t it basic? Isn’t it how couples and feelings would come out?

“Angie is not going to answer questions, but Angie wants to give you her knowledge.“ She sat on the sand and offered listeners to come closer.

“Once upon a time a powerful creature made this world.“ Sparkles, which looked like a Milky Way, slowly became a half blue and half green ball, imitating the Earth. You know for sure these sparkles follow every word Angie says.

“Years by years life was getting stronger and started to explore the surface. They got new senses as smells, tastes, pain and even loneliness. And for now we are at their place.“

“The ones on those, humans, used their intelligence to cooperate with each other. It started with barters and bounty gifts. So eventually humans forgot that they are not the owners of all these goods they have.“

Canines and felines approached Angie. She closes her eyes and lovingly pets now glittering shells.

“So at present... humanity has no idea of how Atua’s dearest children might interact to be happy. Nya-ha-ha!“

As a human here you were confused. What is she talking about? Did your kind forget how to truly love?

“That’s why Atua ask us to remind others about love.“ You took some time to process. Without the regular parts of real life which you named before, what left? Movie nights? It still needs some expensive material supplies. Brief hugs or cuddles? Yes, but you can do this with anyone. But you can’t share a place and be a family with a total stranger, right? No, still about material... But how are you supposed to be a couple without material things? Or... is love equal to being a couple? That means--- 

“By giving our time and attention, by comforting and helping without waiting for a reward we create a better society. We share true love.“ Yonaga hugged herself. “How divine, nya-ha-ha!“

That’s just insane. You can’t understand her properly. She said you can give and take ‘love‘ by things related to anyone. So it’s not about the same place? Not about papers and status? 

“Atua is nowhere and everywhere at the same time and cannot be touched, but He loves His material parts of himself. He doesn’t pay for you, doesn’t work instead of you and will never marry on the Earth. But He always forgives and loves us, living creatures. So does Angie. From the bottom of her heart.“

‘Huh?’ You were caught off guard then she stared in your direction. “And Angie means it.“ She cupped your cheeks. “Angie loves you.“