#but as someone reading and describing the book i feel like he deserves to have one at the very least

[zapsoda]

prolly mentioned begore but ive been readin frankensteinfor class and me n this girl were bonding about how fucking depressing adams story wasi was reading his chapters feeling like pure shit writing down all his hardest quotes

[bluesylveon2]

The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones. 

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after." 

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad. 

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed. 

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think. 

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her. 

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver. 

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her. 

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them. 

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.  

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten. 

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan. 

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence. 

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding. 

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls. 

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush. 

"I think he was exaggerating." 

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up. 

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down. 

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer. 

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him. 

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out. 

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know. 

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull. 

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp. 

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him." 

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent. 

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs. 

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry. 

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes." 

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there." 

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it. 

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them. 

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright. 

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room. 

"So, Yuu, can you cook?" 

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy. 

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile. 

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness. 

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[marasvenus]

How An Author Would Describe You & Your Person ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Book a reading with me here!

Pile 1 ࿐

This is actually a very cute energy 🥹. If you were in a book, I think the book itself would be about your child/children but you and your person would play such a huge part in it.

An author would describe the two of you as a couple that had been through so much but came out of all of it stronger than ever. Maybe the two of you got together very young and struggled through some of the most transformative years of your life together, loving each other through a million different stages as you worked to find yourselves and each other. An author would write a lot about the bond the two of you share, the way it’s almost like you can read each others minds and understand each other on a level that is rare and beautiful. An author might write about financial struggles or loss that you may have faced together early in your relationship and how those struggles shaped each of you and your relationship as a whole for the better. There’s a strength and stability in your relationship because you survived your lowest points together and loved each other through your worst moments so you could become your best selves together.

Because this books seems to be from the POV of your child, it seems as though your relationship and the strength/stability of it would be referenced a lot in this book. You and your partner would be written in as voices of wisdom and words of advice when it was needed, helping guide the story in the right direction and give the reader hope and a sense of peace. I heard “the book wouldn’t feel whole without you” for some readers, you’d make the book really worth reading.

Pile 2 ࿐

An author would describe this love as a beautiful, all encompassing kind of love. Possibly a first love, the kind of love that you only feel once. There’s a rush of so much emotion and excitement but also fear of the unknown. This love is about embracing the uncertain and opening yourself up to another person in a way you haven’t opened up to someone before. Laying all your cards out on the table and hoping the other person is prepared to do the same. This love would be described as watching curiosity and infatuation bloom into love and admiration for someone that you’ll never get tired of getting to know. It’s about taking someone in for all that they are, mind, body, and soul.

This love would be described one of the most beautiful things that we get to experience as humans and part of what makes life so worth living, written as every beautiful emotion that makes all pain and suffering that we face at some point so worth it. I think you would be the author of the book this love is written in, writing from a place of wisdom and looking back on the past and everything that made you the person you become to be, writing about all the moments in your life that shaped you as a human and shaped you for better or for worse.

Pile 3 ࿐

This love is a love you haven’t found yet. Some of you may be going through heartbreak and I think this reading is meant as a beacon of hope, your guides reminded you that there is better for you out there and it will come when you least expect it. I heard “don’t hold on so tightly to something that no longer serves you”

This love would he written as devotion and certainty from the point of first eye contact. A love that never weavers and doesn’t leave room for any doubt. A love that you are deserving of. This love is a love worth fighting for. This is something you’ve dreamed about since you were a child, to finally receive everything you’ve been giving for so many years. It would be written as kind, gentle, forgiving, safe. This love is pure happiness and bliss and you will never be left doubting it or wishing for more.

This book would be a fantasy or fairytale book. Filled with beautiful scenery. You and your person would be apart of some sort of series of books, a couple that readers root for and want to see succeed. The book would provide readers with the same sense of comfort and safety that you and your person provide each other with. Stories of your love would give readers hope for themselves and their future.

[aromantic-diaries]

Yknow I feel more represented by characters who aren't confirmed to be aro/ace or even written as such, but can still be interpreted that way because of how they're characterized, rather than characters who are confirmed to be aro/ace through word of god while the actual story has no implications of that character being aro/ace beyond them not having a love interest. The latter kind of waters it down to not wanting to date or have sex which isn't really all there is to it. I get that not all representation has to be a 100% accurate, deep and touching depiction of the aro/ace experience, but that doesn't mean completely ignoring the character's identity beyond not giving them a love interest.

I will elaborate with two examples under the cut

So for the word of god representation, let's take Lilith Clawthorne from the owl house as an example. I think she's a great character, I liked her, and I think the owl house is a fantastic show that deserved better. However I don't think of Lilith as good representation because the only real confirmation we have is outside of the actual show. It's not in the canon material, she doesn't have a love interest but she's not even the only character who stays single so that doesn't mean much. She isn't shown to be any different from anyone, her being aroace isn't really relevant in any way. I'd say the best word for describing this type of representation is Passive. We know she's aroace because it was confirmed outside of the show, she doesn't have a love interest, but it doesn't really go beyond that. I get that the show was cut short and maybe it would have been elaborated on more but that's just a generous assumption on my part. My point is, I don't really see any real aro or ace experiences reflected in her character, neither mine or anyone else's. She doesn't really represent any actual aspec experiences at all which is why I don't consider her to be good representation. I still understand the community's attachment to her though, we take what we can get and what we get is very little. So while I love the owl house, the aroace representation is pretty dissapointing compared to the great representation of other queer identities and I'm kinda bummed that the aroace character still gets sidelined in an otherwise very queer friendly show

For another example I'll bring up my all time favorite, Rudy Waltz, protagonist of the book Deadeye Dick by Kurt Vonnegut. Deadeye Dick is not a feel good story. The story is dark, bitter and the conclusion is no different. Still, I would describe it as oddly comforting and pretty funny at times. So what does that have to do with anything? Well, our Rudy can very well be interpreted as asexual and probably aromantic as well. He isn't referred to as such, he describes himself as a neuter, the author states in the preface that the protagonist's disinterest is a metaphor for his own declining sexuality, and the book was written before the term aromantic was even coined. However, as an aromantic asexual reading the book, I could not help but deeply relate to Rudy's lack of interest in ever having sex or finding a romantic partner. I felt kinship with him as he described knowing how many people there are who are just like him and yet they go unnoticed by most people, because I was one of those people. I related to him and the way his disinterest in sex was met with such confusion from another character. Despite not being described as such, Deadeye Dick is very much in part an asexual and an aromantic story because the protagonist's experiences line up with that of someone on those spectrums. You could argue that calling him aroace is problematic due to him fitting a negative stereotype due to his emotional detachment, or that he only fits the label because of said detachment, but that does not change the fact that he is still better representation than a character who was confirmed outside of the story with no real implications. I see myself in Rudy more than I do in Lilith because Rudy actually feels like an aroace character

Anyways, rant over. Feel free to disagree with me

[anonymergremlin]

Types of hugs

As promised, another piece of my thoughts and headcanons. This time about the gestures we learn in the game. I got really curious after receiving this one gesture after reading a certain sad letter. Is our boy learning from them? Is he curious about human gestures? Who knows.

Anyway, gender-neutral this time. For all you lovely people out there.

I hope you enjoy it and please forgive me for any mistakes. I am just a silly gremlin.

A heavy rainstorm rattled through the floors. Turning the once silent night into a restless one, keeping some of Hotel Krat souls awake. Step by step they approached the hotel's library. Perhaps a good book would help them through such a stormy night. Their fingers curled around the handle of the door. Slowly they opened it. To their surprise they were greeted by a brightly lit room. Another soul must have found its way into the library. "Oh... I didn't think anyone else would -" they stopped their own words as the other person came into view. It wasn't just anyone from the other residence, no, it was the puppet. Geppeto's puppet. The young man stood beside one of the many bookshelves. Fingers running through pages. He seemed to be quite concentrated on the writings.

“P?”.

As his name left their lips, he immediately turned. For a moment his porcelain face looked so blank, but it changed so quickly. The softest smile of all covered his face, his blue eyes lit up and his freckles almost seemed to shine like stars. It was impressive how much he had changed, he really had become more human.

"Have you found something interesting, my dear puppet? Would you like to show it to me?"

They took a few steps to close the distance between them, close enough for a quick glance at the book. To their surprise, P's finger pointed to a particular word.

Hug.

"Are you curious about hugs, P?" they asked him, eyes moving from the book to his blue eyes. He nodded. It wasn't unusual for him to be interested in human gestures. They had seen him mimic some of those described in books or letters before. Once he even mimicked a painting of a knight, his rapier close to his chest, the blade pointed to the sky, his back straight and a proud smile on his face. It was an amusing sight that brought a smile to their face.

"Well, my dear P, there are many kinds of hugs. You could say that one type of hug is never the same as another". They moved one of their hands up, raising their index finger like a teacher giving an important lesson. "In general, you can hug a person to show them that they are welcome, but you can also hug someone to say 'thank you'. You see? A hug can mean two completely different things." His mouth opened slightly and his eyes blinked, indicating his understanding. "A hug can also be a gesture of consolation. For example, when you see someone crying. You can go up to them and hug them, hoping that by doing that, you're going to comfort them through their sadness." For a moment, they stopped themselves and thought of all the people out there who deserve to be hugged. To have just the slightest bit of comfort in their lives. From the look on P's face, they had a feeling that the puppet probably had the same feeling. 

They shook their heads, trying to rid their mind of the thought of Krat's sad state. The people must continue to look forward to a better future. They brought their thoughts back to the hugs. With a slight blush, they remembered another important kind of hug.

"There's also... the kind of hug that lovers do," they said, almost whispering the words out of a slight sense of embarrassment. A fine blush rose to their cheeks as they thought about it more clearly. "Lovers hug as a gesture of their love. They embrace each other, body to body, to feel each other's warmth. Wishing they never have to let go." Their eyes closed for a second, imagining the feeling of someone holding them like that. Two hands gently touching their backs, arms wrapped around their frame and a chin resting softly on one of their shoulders. The thought alone left a good feeling in their chest, but to their surprise, it seemed to come from a real source. Eyes opened to find themselves in a hug. Two hands gently resting on the small of their back, arms carefully wrapped around their frame and a chin tucked between their neck and shoulder. P hugged them like a lover. He put just a tiny bit of pressure on them to pull them closer to him, wrapping his arms a little more around their frame and hiding his head in their neck.

They had only just told him about this kind of hug, but he was already imitating it so perfectly. And they knew from the softness and gentleness of his touch that he was serious about what the hug was saying.

Perhaps it wasn't a book that they needed in order to find comfort on this stormy night. Perhaps it is simply the hug of the person they love that they need.

[iouinotes]

Good gone bad | Coriolanus Snow (part one)

pairing: young!Coriolanus Snow x female!reader

movie: Hunger Games: The ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

warnings: dark!character, smut

word count: 3,8k

summary: You are childhood friends and very close with him. When his behaviour starts to change for the worse, you try your best to hold on to his real-self.

a/n: I adored Snow the first half an hour, because he was a gentleman and cared so much! Then his character became dark, obsessive and murderous and it really was a game changer...but I definitely want to read the book, so I can describe his character in my following stories better!

part 2 here , part three

"I will call my new discovery just like you, Mr. Snow. The best student and the future of this world. No one will stand in your way, when the blizzard blows over the people. And because it will work so well for your little infatuation, it will function for every other naive creature too."

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Coryo!" I shot his name across the hallway, when I see his blonde locks, ignoring the looks from my classmates around me. At the sound of my voice, his head turns in my direction and I run faster towards his figure. As soon as I catch up with him, I meet his curious eyes and look further down to his smiling lips.

"Good morning to you too. Let me guess, you have something really important to announce or are just very happy to see me." Holding the door open for me, I try to catch my breath, wanting to ignore the lovely tone of his voice and the way he looks so outstanding beautiful.

"Well, both, but I heard some gossip about the upcoming ceremony tomorrow. Details who is gonna get the scholarship." Now, while entering the room, I have his full attention.

When I heard about the changes, that were made I immediately searched for him, clearly knowing how much he was ready to sacrifice for this academic possibility.

As he stops walking and places his hands on my shoulders, stopping me in my foodsteps and searching my gaze, I feel my pounding heart.

God forbid this man to look at me this way.

As I try to avoid his intense glare, his hands gently move to my cheeks to focus my eyes on him. I feel myself blushing, fiddling with the rings, that are attached to my fingers.

"No time for jokes, please. What do you know?" I clear my voice, trying to ignore our close gap or the way his curls lay on his forehead and how his skin shines beautifully in the light- No, wait. Not good. We're just friends. I don´t like him that way. Nope.

"I- uh, so please don´t freak out on me, but rumor says it's not up to the student with the best grades to get the scholarship..." I watch his posture straighten, see the how his facial expression turns blank and the irritated change in his mood. And I promise you, it´s not good.

When he lets go of me to strike forward, I try to hold him back. "Wait- you are angry and disappointed, so talk to me first before you let your emotions out on the others, okay?" I catch his left hand and hear his upset breathing.

"It's just- you know, more than anyone, that I deserve this scholarship the most! And now the only possibility to help my family and to become successful are at risks, because someone decided to change the rules? God, I worked my ass off to be the one they choose and now I'll probably get laughed at, cause I didnt get it!" I nod, trying to calm him down by listening to his outburst.

"You do deserve it, I know that. But you still have the chance to stand out more than the others. You are intelligent and brave, very ambitious and you care a lot. Not only for your family and friends, but for everyone. You are the best candidate and if they don´t choose you, then it is the wrong decision. Because they need someone like you. Just like I need you, believe me." I hold his hand close to my heart, trying to convince him of his abilities and his good heart, to show him that he deserves every recognition he gets.

And it works, because he relaxes slightly and after another second passes, I feel myself being embraced in a tight hug. His hand holds the back of my head and I hear his quiet "thank you".

"Always, blue. I am here for you." His lips linger for a second on my forehead, the kiss leaves me feeling warm and in love.

Even if I try to deny it.

"It's been a while, since you called me that nickname." I look in his eyes, when he pulls back. Admiring the shining blue that follows my dreams.

I only smile at him, shrugging when we have a normal distance between us, that helps me to concentrate again.

"It slipped out, I guess. But you are right, the last time I called you that, we were in primary school. How fast the time goes." Nodding we gently smile at each other and I clear my throat, when I get more and more enchanted to him.

We have known each other for so long, but nothing has changed about us.

Expect my feelings for him. They seem to never go away.

So, when I step forward and his eyes follow me, I start to walk to class again.

"Come on, we're being late. The greatest student of all time does not come late." He shakes his head, smiling at me and when I feel for a moment that something is different between us, I brush it off.

When he's finally catching up with me, I order my thoughts.

Don't fall in love with him.

Pretend, you didnt fall in love with him.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

I am good at pretending, really. It normally helps me to focus on the important things in my life, for example school, my grades, studying and getting accepted by a college. Did I mention, my academic success needs to be excellent?

But now, the only thing I can concentrate on is him. And I can hardly pretend, not for much longer, that I am not in love with him.

Because his life is in danger, now that the Hunger Games have started and he is the mentor of the tribute of district 12, a girl named Lucy Gray, everything is different.

He is different.

I know him long enough, that I see how much he cares for her. And because I'm good at pretending, I can see right through his actions.

He maybe likes the girl, but even though he tries to hide it, he cares more that he is the victor in the end.

And that is something that I find quite odd. I mean, he always wants to win, wants to be the best and on top or ahead of everyone. But he was always fair, human and supportive.

But his behavior changed as the days passed. Of course, it's obvious that the violence and torment that the game brings with changes you. More for the worse, than the better.

But it's not only the pressure he is under or the tension that he feels, because he needs the girl to win. It's something different and I notice that none of this is doing him any good. Especially for his heart.

Because he is being distant, he talks less, smiles less, is acting like a person I don´t even know anymore.

And it scares me, it hurts to see him losing himself in the process of being successful.

The last time we talked, he said something to me that left me awake all night, thinking about the decisions and sacrifices he has to make to achieve his goal.

He said: "I will become president and when I am on top, the world will be as cold as the snow in the winter. Nobody will oppose me."

It scared me. He scared me.

And maybe it was the change of his behavior or the cold look in his eyes, with which he looked at everyone or maybe it was because I started to fear him, that I distanced myself from him.

And even though I thought, he wouldnt notice, he did.

And it made everything complicated.

He tried to approach me, talking and joking like we always did, but it wasnt the same. Because he wasnt the same. Even though the color of his eyes was still as bright as the sun, the way he looked at me hid something that was as dark as the night.

I didnt know how I felt anymore.

Because when fear is equal to love, do I fear him then?

I guess I did and it made me sick in the stomach. He lied, he betrayed, he murdered, he did things, I would hate anyone for.

He did things for that I started to hate myself, because I couldnt hate him. Not when he really was the victim in this cruel world, even when he presented himself as the victor.

But for me, he didnt win. Because he rather lost something.

My trust for him.

And that made him angry, so much that he started to manipulate his way into my life again, when I decided that I didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

At first it would be small things. He continued opening the door for me, even though I didnt walk to class with him anymore.

He always saved me a seat next to him, although I decided to sit somewhere else. Then he started bribing the teachers, so that I had to do my assignments with him, he started showing up by almost every place I would go to.

He would give me roses that I wouldn't accept or visited me at work, always with a smile on his face. But I could tell it wasn't real.

He wasn't his real-self after all. He pretended to be someone else and I couldnt trust this new version of him.

He cut his hair short, nowadays wears expensive and neat clothes, always speaks in a formal voice and does polite gestures.

Small smiles, fake laughs, adoring looks which he uses to hide his real intentions behind a facade.

He enchanted the whole world.

But his magic didn't work on me and he became more and more aware of it as the days went by and I continued to ignore him.

And then, on one evening he visited my dorm and before I could close the door, he stood in my apartment and said something, I will forever keep in mind. His presence began to feel like a short movie, captivating me with each encounter.

"I know that you don't like the way things are now. But I am doing this to maintain peace, to keep the people in the place they belong. And I want you to know, that you just need to understand my actions and start to trust me again."

As he spoke, he started to walk towards me, looking me in the eyes, trying to convince me. I had no way out, all I could do was to back up until I hit the wall and he was standing right in front of me. Starring at me, like I needed to be on his side.

I tried to avoid his gaze and the deep blue that somehow always successfully convinced me. Until now.

"Please look at me, I´m telling you the truth. You know me, I´m still the same guy. Why don´t you believe me?" His hands brush my cheeks, roughly holding my face in his hands to keep my eyes on him.

It wasnt new to me that he loved to manipulate. I overheard some of his lies, the hidden betrayal of his own best friend and I couldnt be sure, that he wouldnt do the same to me too.

The only thing I knew was that his striving for power was taking over his being and I seemed powerless to do anything against it.

"I can´t trust you anymore, Coryo. You are acting different and all the things you did-" his face gets closer to me and my heartbeat becomes faster the less distance there is between our faces.

I can´t deny it.

He looks so beautiful.

Even though I want to talk, he leaves me speechless. As if the cold blue of his eyes froze me into a stature, that can only listen to him.

"Everything I did was for you. I know you love me, always have and always will. But you don't admit it to yourself, you don't want to admit it. I know how you feel for me, sweetheart and you have no reason to stop loving me now."

His words are like magic, his eyes like a hallucination, that everything is fine. His hands so warm and familiar that it's hard for me to remember the bad things he did.

That he's trying so hard to make me forget about.

His fingers move around my neck, his body comes closer to me until we touch, until I can only see him and only he matters.

His face is so close to mine and my eyes flutter - out of fear or anticipation, I don´t really know - until I feel his breathing on my ear.

"If you just let me make you remember the old time. Everything we did, the fun we had, how much we trusted each other. How much I still care and appreciate you. Stop thinking and let yourself feel."

His lips touch my skin and I have to suppress a whimper. I can breathe in his scent, his hands around me confuse my thoughts. My dreams from back then, imagining being able to have him, love him and touch him - they make me insecure about my decisions.

I wanted him for such a long time, that it now seems impossible for me to actually call him mine.

But coming to my senses, realising he is no longer the sweet gentleman I fell in love with, I want to stop him, by holding my hands out to push him back. However his hands react quickly and enclose mine with a firm grip to press them against the wall.

"No, listen to me. I never told you, but I heard you dreaming about me once. You whispered my name, like your heart longed for me, in a way you would never be able to truly understand your feelings for me. Like I am the god you pray for and I promise you, if you would just let me, I would fulfill your every wish. Because, together, you and me, we can become holy in our own, untouchable way. "

When I try to shake my head, his hands change so that one of them is holding both of my hands and the other one is grabbing my face.

"Don´t fight against me, darling. It wont work. You know it, I always win."

And as his hands hold my chin and I can hear my loud heartbeat, his lips meet mine in a wild kiss, clearly showing me the control he has over me.

And it's addicting, but so so dangerous.

His lips are soft against my own and he roughly kisses me, like he's the devil trying to steal my soul.

His body feels warm against my own and I'm weak for a moment, gently kissing him back, enjoying the way he smiles at my reaction.

His kisses becomes more heated, his hands are roaming over my nightgown and his fingers caress the exposed skin. Everything feels too good to be true.

But I can´t let myself enjoy this, I need to focus.

"No- Coryo. We cant-" I try to studder, breaking the kiss and hating the way he makes me feel. Because I feel so good, like only he can make me feel this way.

When I interrupt our kiss and while I try to assert myself against him, I notice his anger becoming more and more obvious.

"What I do is only to make you happy, why dont you understand? I want to see you happy and because of that, I have to do certain things. Just like now." His intense gaze is focused on me.

Without being able to do anything, I suddenly feel a liquid on my skin, that first makes me shiver because of the cold, but in the next second, I feel as hot as if I was standing in the desert and would be dying of thirst.

His touch begins to feel like the only solution and I want more. So, I lean into his touch and literally melt against his body as his lips brush mine.

"Fascinating, as Dr. Gaul said. It becomes one with the skin and intoxicates the senses." He whispers, but I can't figure out what he means by that. The only thing I can concentrate on is him. Why was I here again?

"You need me. You said it yourself, I'm here to remind you." His voice is quiet and I feel my thoughts dissolving. Only the sight of him remains in my head.

His look, those beautiful blue eyes, they distract me and I can´t ignore the desire that his lips are about to meet mine again. We're just centimeters apart and even if I try to stop it, my emotions change. I stop thinking about all the things he did.

Instead, all I can think about is his touch, his lips. And now that I know the ghost of his touch, I wouldn't want anything else.

So, I lean myself forward and kiss him.

It feels like my insides burns with desire, something that is so indescribable, that I don't even know, if I'm capable of feeling this love for too long.

My hands move to his shoulders and to his head, but my control is quickly suppressed as he pushes me back against the wall. So that I almost can't move.

His fingers lift my chin up, I see him grinning smugly at me in triumph.

"Good girl, you only need to listen to me. No one else." And I want to believe him so much, that I suddenly want to forget my doubts.

So, I let him make me forget. His hands roam my body, freeing me from my clothes and holding me where he wants me.

And I let him because I remember that I always wanted him to have his way with me. And when I look at his face, I no longer differentiate. For me, only my Coryo exists.

I close my eyes and lose myself in these sensations, the heat of his words and his actions.

His lips are soft, his kisses leave me with an unknown want and I can't do anything other than just take everything he gives me.

When he strips me out of my pants and unbottons my blouse, he lifts me up against the wall. His hips are pressed against my waist and his kisses travel from my lips down to my chest.

"Everything I do is for you." His words sound familiar.

"You will never doubt me again, I promise you. I'll make sure of that. From now on, you will feel this good forever. Because of me, you hear me? Only because of me, always me." His words cover me like a veil, but I'm unable to process them. My head is so empty and just like he said, I only feel.

I've never not thought about nothing and even if it should unnerve me, I can't even remember to be bothered about it.

As my hands try to move further down to his back and my nails leave marks on his back, his hand squeezes my neck like a warning.

"I am in control, you do as I say. Now take off my pants, so I can fuck you until you believe in me again." I can't think straight, when his hands are undressing me, cupping my breasts and turning me on in a way, I only want to be here with him.

As soon as my hands undress him and his pants are pulled down, he tears my panties apart, meeting my lips in a wanting kiss.

I feel one of his fingers slipping through my wet folds, pumping roughly two fingers inside me. My mouth opens and moans escape me, while I hold myself onto his shoulders.

"You needed to play hard to get, huh? Look who is at my mercy now." My body is still pressed against the wall and as my eyes close on their own, I suddenly feel his tip at my entrance.

And when I want to protest, he places his hand on my mouth to keep me quiet.

"No talking back to me. If you don't listen, I will make you." He pushes himself into me and I feel every vein as his hands direct mine against the wall behind me.

When he starts fucking me, I'm sure I'll pass out.

"C-cant take- too big, please" I dont even know how to speak properly anymore. His hands hold me tight and his thrusts are so brutal, that I barely have enough concentration to breathe.

"What did you say? You want to please me? Then shut your mouth and let me use you." With every harsh thrust, I feel my muscles become more and more relaxed and only he is holding me up now. I can't concentrate on anything else other than him inside me.

My thoughts begin to only focus on being good for him.

I feel like my soul is leaving my body. All I can hear is the dull clapping of our bodies, my loud moans and his heavy breathing.

As he buries his head in the crook of my neck, I softly whimper his name.

I feel how he tenses, when he react to me calling his nickname. His eyes shift to me and suddenly he lets go of my arms and I put them around his shoulders without hesitation. The position now is much more intimate and I scratch his back as his thrusts become even deeper and harder.

I hear his heavy breathing and feel his arms wrap around mine too.

"Tell me you want me." His voice is menacingly quiet. When I don't answer, too focused on his hips thrusting into me, he lets go of the wall and lays me on my bed.

"Fine, I will make you say it then." He sits down and pulls me onto his lap with my back to him, sliding his cock into me again. I moan so loudly, that I notice him grinning contentedly against my shoulder.

"You like that? Good, everyone will know how me you like me, when I'm done with you." His hand directs me so his chest touches my back and one of his hands moves to wrap around my neck.

"You will get used to doing what I want and you will do it, because you want to. You hear me? You won't stay away from me anymore, you belong to me. Everything you do is for me and only me." My thoughts are so confused, I can't think straight anymore. All I know is that I have never felt so good and that he is the reason for my pleasure.

"But I fucked you dumb so it seems. Pretty, little thing. You are like my personal doll, that I can use as I please. This turns me on even more than I would have thought." He pushes me further down on him, making me bounce until that one special spot in me is abused over and over again. And all I can utter are useless words and loud moans.

"B-blue" I hear him chuckle darkly in response.

I'm no longer certain, that I'm even laying in the arms of the person I once loved so much.

"You should have let me fucked you much sooner. It would have destroyed any resistance you had towards me. Just like now and just like I wanted." His voice whispers in my ear and my head leans against his shoulders, my mouth opens and I feel every inch of him inside me.

His hand strokes the skin, where my heart lays and I feel his lips brush against my ear.

"If this heart ever beats for anyone else other than me, everyone in this world will die and I won't be afraid to tell you that it is entirely your fault."

I collapse in his arms, when I come, going completely limp and vulnerable, unable to move. This time I only seem to be physically present.

His arms wrap around me and he let me sink onto him again, then I hear his voice whispering promises into the dark room.

"You cant ever escape me. I will always find you and I will always get you."

[morganas-pendragons]

All My Love | Twelfth Doctor

@pompeiianbollockr

Set during the blindness arc in Season 10 because I love me some vulnerable Doctor. I don't care if it's not in Twelve's character. He gets to be vulnerable because I SAID so :D

He hasn't spoken to you since before you landed on the space station. In fact, it's been nearly a week. It's been nearly a week since The Doctor allowed himself to kiss you. To touch you.

And possibly the most devastating part.. to see you.

Self sacrificial. That was one of the best words you'd ever used to describe him in the time you'd known this face. This face. With all its quirks, and all the things he hates about it: The attack eyebrows, the lines, the wrinkles and the age... Despite all the things he'd hated about this face, the one thing he'd learned from traveling with you is that the faces didn't matter.

He truly believed you loved him for him. You knew it. He knew it. This, though... This was something he wasn't sure he was going to come back from. The Doctor had spent centuries gallivanting across the universe, running further and faster from home because he couldn't dare look back, with promises of adventures on his lips and desperation for escape in his heart.

"Tell me... am I a good man?"

You scooted closer to where he was sitting on the stairs and tentatively rose your hand to graze your fingertips across his temple and card through those unruly silver curls. He shivered at the sensation and forced his eyes open to meet yours as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The best man I will ever know."

He hasn't forgotten the feeling of your lips meeting the skin under his ear. Or the first time he'd kissed you of his own accord. Or the first time you'd marked him in the dead of night in his bedroom, where your lips had branded his skin. The way he'd linked your fingers together on either side of your head.

The sound of your voice calling his name. The sound of your voice in general, so soft and sweet and good...

That is something he clings to so tightly now. All the memories of the past - mere years for you, millions of years for him - that had opened his eyes to the truth: Despite all his misgivings and all his failures, he too was someone deemed worthy of loving.

You had brought a light into his life that The Doctor had not realized he'd been so deprived of. It was the light of humanity, of hope, of a heart far too big for this universe that nobody would ever thank you for. You deserved so much better than him.

And yet, you didn't want better.

You only wanted him.

He can't figure out why he's so... sad. There's an empty hole in his hearts and his mind where someone used to be, where the memory and the love of someone he cared for used to occupy, and the realization he cannot place who they are is angering him.

The Doctor has always been vengeful. The Oncoming Storm, The Valeyard, Timelord Victorious. He has rage written into the very essence of his bones and a desire to protect and save people in a way no one had ever saved him from himself.

"Hey you," You dragged your fingers across his shoulder blades as you came to sit beside him in the open doorway of the TARDIS. "Where did you go?"

That was one of the things he'd first recognized he loved about you. Despite this body having difficulties with physical affection and intimacy, he'd learned how to communicate with body language and gazes. Absent looks. Looks of adoration. Affection. Longing. That was all it took.

And you still read him like a book.

"Something's missing," He lightly knocked on his temple as you reached out and took his hand in your own. The Doctor let you. It was like he could feel the sunlight and warmth seeping from you into him. The light overwhelming the dark. "In here. There's someone who's supposed to be in here with the rest of them. I don't remember."

You did. You did, and Clara had made you promise before she flew away that you would never help him remember. That you would help him carry the weight.

"Maybe you're not supposed to. We're all stories in the end," You whisper. The Doctor softened as he lifted your hand to his lips and tentatively brushed them against your knuckles. "And maybe some of those stories become songs. Whispers of melodies and lines that hold the things we cannot remember."

All of his memories are composed in a form of music: Lines upon lines of melancholic notes in the minor key that is his endless life, with crescendos of bright notes meant to convey the optimism and light brought by the companions who travel alongside him.

And when they leave, the decrescendo extends over what feels like years, softening to a singular note that eases into silence.

Him, alone, on his own battlefield. That's how he feels right now. Battling the recognition that he may never be able to bask in the light again. That he may always be victim to the darkness.

So The Doctor lets the darkness win. He distances himself from you because it's better to face the darkness alone.

However, you are not willing to let him.

***

You know him. You know him better then you know yourself, and you have known him long enough to know his tells when it comes to how he keeps his secrets. How he lets himself lie. You are the only person who is able to truly see The Doctor.

You would be lying if you said you weren't hurt by his sudden distance. He hadn't done this since he'd recently regenerated. When he'd been resentful of his new body, of the world, and of who he was now.

You had lost count of all of the times that you had followed the sound of grief and heartache and despair into the darkness of his bedroom. All the times he'd turned you away. All the times he'd left you out in the cold of the TARDIS hallways.

All the times he'd finally given in and allowed himself to be held.

You'd been longing to do that again. To be the one being held, to be reminded that he did indeed still love you. The Doctor always went on about having ''a duty of care'' for you and for Bill.

Did your self hatred overwhelm your duty of care, Doctor? Did the coward finally win?

When Bill and Nardole had disappeared, you had stayed behind with The Doctor when he'd attempted to read the Veritas. You had been right around the corner when you were alarmed by the sound of pained groaning coming from within the cage.

"Cardinal, it worked. I can see. Not well enough. Not yet."

Dread bubbled low in your stomach as you approached the cage from behind. Hadn't his blindness been cured? What was he talking about?

"Think about the universes. Whatever you need, you can always borrow." He blinked heavily. Once, twice, three times to try and clear the haze from over his eyes. You were standing just outside of his peripheral vision. He wouldn't be able to tell you were there. And after shutting you out, after days of nothing.. This upset you. This hurt. "As long as you pay it back. I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes, but... I will be able to read this."

He slammed his hand on top of the Veritas. You weren't paying attention anymore. The next thing you knew, the lights were going out, and you were running to keep up with him even though he did not know you were there.

You tried not to let your hurt show. Or for him to hear it in your voice.

That would come later.

***

When all was said and done, you found him in the console room. He was still adjusting to learning how to identify when people were approaching based off of his other senses. It took The Doctor a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps approaching, but he did turn from his seat on the pilot's chair nearest to the console to where he thought you were standing.

He also didn't know that you were very aware he was still blind.

"Darling? Is that you? You should know that I always know it's you. Don't be coy."

"I'm mad at you."

His brow rose at that. "And why would that be?"

You walked forward to stand in the natural part of his legs. "For all of the times you have dragged me across the universe," You begin, swallowing your fear as you take both his hands and settle them on your hips while you settle in his lap. "For all the times I have had with you, the years I have known you. I never thought you'd be this thick."

The Doctor snorted. Did you not know this face? He was ridiculously thick headed.

"You should know by now that I am extremely thick," He argued, allowing his fingers to drift under the fabric of your cotton shirt and drum lightly against your hips. "Thick headed and arrogant and a selfish old man."

"An old man who forgot the first promise we ever made." You have yet to touch him. To properly touch him. ''Tell me. When did you forget?"

He struggled to keep hold of those memories. The early ones. When one has an infinite life, you do your best to hold onto what is precious.

"You can't." The Doctor had declared. It had been mere weeks since he'd regenerated, and he was so unsure, so scared. He did a remarkable job of hiding it. "You can't love me."

It was also the first time you'd properly been able to communicate how you felt to him. Eleven had called you, desperate and longing and begging you to understand, to remember that he's still The Doctor despite having a different face.

You had never had the courage to tell his younger face that you loved him. When Eleven had helped you to recognize the fear underneath that worn, aged face, you'd walked right back into the TARDIS and declared it with all the courage of a soldier facing a battlefield alone.

"I do love you. I have loved you. It took a while for me to recognize it, but I do. It's not a lie. It's not a trick or deception. It's me." You took your hand and placed it on his chest. He winced, though briefly, because this body was not quite ready to accept more physical contact than that. "Being brave."

"Promise me then. No secrets. No tricks." He murmured. You took the opportunity to close the gap of space between you, keeping your hand in its place as his grey eyes met yours. You shivered as he brought his own hand up to cradle your jaw. Your lips parted on their own accord as his eyes flickered down to them before slowly dragging his gaze upward to meet your own. "Promise me that you will keep them safe."

"Them?"

"Those fragile, beating things you've held in your hands since we met. Tell me," His breath fanned across your face as he hesitantly leaned inward. "What does it feel like to hold a Timelords hearts?"

"I asked you to keep me safe," The Doctor remarked. "That's not your job. It was an unrealistic promise."

"You're forgetting the beginning of that promise," You finally leaned inward enough that The Doctor could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He froze as you lightly tapped his sonic glasses. "No secrets. Take them off."

He did not move for almost a minute and a half. The Doctor knew that he should've seen this coming. He should've known you were clever enough to figure him out.

He removed one hand from under your shirt and removed the glasses willingly. Your heart hammered painfully hard in your chest as you were greeted with the familiar grey of his eyes. This time, however, they were cloudy. They were almost... dark.

"It never went away. I just didn't know how to properly tell you." The Doctor shrugged. "You deserve better. It's as I've said. Selfish old man, traveling across the universe with his best-"

He paused as you pressed a fingertip to his lips. The Doctor hummed and kissed your finger, reveling in the feeling of warmth tracing his face reverently.

"I wish you'd just told me." You murmured. You pressed yourself closer, dragging his hand up your hip until his thumb was pressing hard enough against your skin to feel your heartbeat. "You know me better than this. I love you. You have all my love."

"Even without my sight?" He asked. "I can't... I can't see you. And it's devastating."

That was a peculiar way to describe it. "What could be devastating about that?"

"You really don't know, do you?" He replied. You took both of his hands and slowly lifted them to your face, setting his thumbs against the curve of your lips. "It's hard to come to terms with the darkness winning when you've learned to love the light."

Oh.

"You can't see me," You whisper. You shiver as he drags his fingers across your mouth slowly, allowing them to travel across your face. "But you can learn how to find the light again. Darkness isn't forever."

You spent what felt like hours in silence after that. The Doctor allowed himself to drink in the warmth for the first time in ages, humming as you allowed him to relearn your face. The shape of your eyes. The sweep of your nose, the curve of your lips, the texture of your hair under his fingers.

When he was done, your breath caught as he tangled his fingers in your hair and dragged your head back just enough to expose the slope of your neck. "My love," His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Tell me, what does it feel like?"

It took you a moment to find your voice as he lowered his head to drag his teeth across your pulse point, followed by the warmth of his lips that elicited a shiver from deep within you. "What does.. What does what feel like, Doctor?"

The last thing he says is, "Being the light." Before he's capturing your lips with his own, and the light overcomes the darkness once again.

[disniq]

heyyy it's the tropes jason anon again back at it with a new question! what quotes from the comic books would you say describe jason & his philosophy well? thank you so, so much for helping me out ❤

Hi again Anon!

Full disclosure here; I don't think Jason has been written consistently enough over the years to necessarily have one set, inarguable philosophy. But I do think there are certain themes that carry through.

So;

Red Hood: Lost Days #3

This is, notably, the first time Jason kills. (I'm not including Garzonas, which is debatable, or the Cheer incident, which is a retcon) He finds out his hand-to-hand teacher has a barn full of drugged children about to be sex trafficked. The cops and politicians are in on it, making lawful justice extremely unlikely, but taking out one man takes out the system. Jason crosses that line for the first time because nobody else is there to stop it, and this is the most practical route.

He does not see it as "murder" because he feels it was deserved.

Red Hood: Lost Days #4

After that line has been crossed - as Talia points out here - a pattern emerges. It's notable that Jason does not kill all his dubiously skilled teachers, only the ones he deems the worst of the worst - people deliberately and repeatedly harming everyday people, especially children.

Jason reiterates this in his famous utrh speech. He's not talking about killing every rogue, every criminal. He's talking about killing the worst of the worst, the people who can finagle their way out of the system, the people the system fails to catch.

Under the Red Hood

It would be remiss of me not to include that one time Jason killed a nazi. Good for her dot gif.

To Jason, these people are beyond the regular means of justice, so he provides his own. He stops them from hurting anybody else.

This is not an exclusively post-resurrection opinion of his, either. Jason expressed similar thoughts during his Robin run.

Batman #422 (thank you @benbamboozled 😘)

This woman, Judy, baited her sister's murderer into attacking her too and then slits his throat. She's unrepentant, and Jason agrees with her decision. (Bruce, for the record, gives a speech on how "nobody is above the law" which is. An interesting stance for an illegally operating vigilante to take lmao)

It makes sense to me that Jason, as someone who has seen the system fail repeatedly (both as a civilian and as a hero), would have those kinds of doubts. The system doesn't always work. The system often fails the most vulnerable people.

When Bruce was failed by the Gotham justice system, he became his own extra-judicial system. When Jason is failed by both the justice system *and* Bruce's own vigilante system? Why wouldn't he do the same.

Unfortunately, this thread is mostly dropped for a while with the wave of writers who either actively hate Jason and try to make him capital E Evil or who are playing shameless self insert with him, but there are two more recent panels that I want to include too;

Task Force Z #12

So, in TFZ, Jason pushes who he thinks is Bane off a roof for killing Alfred. It... is not actually Bane, but instead the brainwashed former corpse of Gotham re-reanimated via comicbook science and. You know what, it doesn't matter. What does matter is that Jason regrets killing Gotham because he didn't deserve it, but reiterates that he will kill the real Bane if he gets a chance.

Jason sees killing as something he can do that others can't, that others maybe *shouldn't* have to do.

The Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing #8

And finally, I adore this little beat in JTMWSL. This is something Jason thinks about. He's not just some brute that doesn't understand that "killing is bad". He thinks about it, reads theory about it. He sees that between the black and white, there are many, many shades of gray.

He understands that people who don't kill with their own hands aren't necessarily good people - like these cops here, gleefully waiting for him to be killed in prison. And that the people who *do* get their hands dirty aren't necessarily the bad guys - like poor Judy.

And I think he probably varies where he places himself on that scale at any given moment.

[lilacs-honey]

🌹 draco realizing he has feelings for a hufflepuff reader :)

To Like a Hufflepuff

(Thank you for the request! 💕)

Part of my 2 year milestone writing event!

MASTERLIST

——-

“God, another boring lesson at this boring ass school. You’d think we deserve better.” Draco commented to Mattheo and Blaise.

“You’re just upset that you have to sit with some ugly ass Gryffindor, while I sit with Pansy. She’s one beautiful piece of work.” Blaise smirked.

He pushed Draco into Mattheo, causing Mattheo to reply, "We get it, Zabini, you hookup with Parkinson when you’re both drunk out of your minds.”

“Funny for you to say Mr. Man Whore,” Blaise responded, looking Mattheo up and down with feigned disgust.

“Oh whatever, at least I’m getting some ass, unlike Malfoy here.” Mattheo said, raising his his hands in front of his chest.

Draco sped up and turned around so he was walking backward as to look at the boys. He laughed, “My sex life is none of your-“ He was quickly cut off as he ran back first into someone, bouncing off of them slightly, neither falling. “Watch where you’re going you filthy-“ he began quickly, before being cut off as he looked the girl up and down.

Lovely. That’s the only way he knew how to describe her. Her perfect hair, her beautiful eyes, the smile that never seemed to waver plastered across her stunning face, he loved everything, except for one thing. She was a Hufflepuff.

He’d remembered her, she would stand out in a crowd, her bright yellow and black robes could be seen from a mile away. He always had an odd urge to say ‘hi’ but the words were so difficult to come by. Now, that wouldn’t be so hard.

“Hey.” He said, voice squeaking slightly.

“Hi.” She replied, crouching to pick up the book she had dropped. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying much attention to walking because I had forgotten to read a chapter of this book for history of magic and I was trying to get it done but I guess that was a bad idea. But, also to be fair, you shouldn’t have been walking backwards, not that I can dictate what you do, but,” she paused taking a deep breath. “I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“A little bit, it’s alright though, love.” He chuckled, gaining confidence in her nervousness.

He could hear his friends groan and say under their breaths, “Good luck mate.” As they walked away, leaving the two alone.

“Thanks, um,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry was what I was trying to say.”

A beat of silence laid upon them as Draco thought up what to say. He wasn’t used to feeling such intense feelings for anyone, especially a Hufflepuff. “Would you like to come to a party with me this weekend? Just some friends from a few different houses getting together.”

“Oh, uhm… sure?” She giggled awkwardly. “Out of all of the things I thought you’d say my first guess was not that.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’d love to go with a beautiful girl, such as yourself on my arm.”

“Okay, well we can meet up to talk about it later? By the lake after dinner?”

“I’d love too.” He smirked.

“I have to get to class, but I’ll see you then Malfoy.” She replied, placing a hand on his bicep as she began walking away.

“See you then, pretty girl.”

He walked away himself joyfully, maybe there was a reason she felt so special to him before. Perhaps, it wasn’t so bad to have feelings for a Hufflepuff.

——-

MASTERLIST

[black00olive]

The Right Words

A/N: This was supposed to be just a little thing about Satan writing a love letter to but it quickly ended up spiralling into somewhat of an analysis of Satan's feelings towards you (take that very lightly as a lot of this is just made up of vibes). Also, the "you" isn't a completely blank slate as I did base some of it off of my own MC and all that (that's where most of the canon divergence comes from). I have never written a love letter before, so pls don't bash me for my love letter writing skills. It was also pretty challenging to write something from Satan's POV since he's a lot more sophisticated than I am Lol. In any case, hope you enjoy :3

Pairing: Satan x Reader

Wordcount: ~3,900 words

Summary: Writing should come easy to Satan, he’s practically read every book in existence and written several pieces before. Yet, when it comes to him writing a love letter to you he finds himself completely stuck. None of the words seem right and nothing he’s written seems to fully describe his feelings for you. As he stares at the blank piece of paper in front of him, his mind wanders and he starts to reminisce about how he developed these feelings for you in the first place.

Reading, and the absorption knowledge in-and-of-itself, was a core part of who Satan was. “He was the nerd of the family,” that’s what his idiot of a brother, Mammon, had claimed— said idiot of a brother had quickly learnt to not say such things about him, but that was neither here nor there. Some other core parts of who he was were his love of cats (though in his opinion everyone should love them, and those who didn’t were wrong), how well-connected he was with high society, and lastly his wrath— though he works hard to contain that one. Overall, he was a classy and upstanding demon. Further, if you were to ask someone, or even him, to describe himself they would most likely use words such as knowledgeable, polite, respectable, and intelligent.

In layman’s terms: Satan was smart and cool.

That’s why he’s so confused as to why he was finding himself hunched over his desk hopelessly writing his 34th love letter to you. Furthermore, why was a well-read demon like him unable to find the right words? He was finding that no words could even begin to describe the feeling aching in his chest, and he knew his way with words.

Satan was no Asmodeus, he doesn’t have a different demon (or demons) in his bed each week. He doesn’t have a list of ex-lovers so long he could wrap himself up in it, twice, nor does he flirt with every demon that even so much as glances at him. However, that doesn’t mean Satan is completely inexperienced; he has had lovers before, has lain with others a couple of times, and even made several of his high-society acquaintances through waxing poetries at them. He is quite good with that last one, he’s made many demons swoon with just his words and been told that he has quite the silver tongue. Yet all words seem to escape him when faced with you. He could repeat the same words that had made so many demons before you fall to their knees, but…

Even those sentences couldn’t even begin to encompass all that you are, and all that he feels for you. You deserved more than some half-hearted words that he had just uttered to get what he wanted. You were so much more than any of those words, as well. The entirety of his being was consumed by you. The way you spoke, the way your eyes would crinkle when you laughed at an especially humourous joke, the way your eyes sparkled once you came across something that caught your interest. Your smile, your bravery, your sarcasm, your kindness, your cockiness, your somewhat childish humour, and even your cruelty. Each and every little thing about you made him erupt in emotions that he had previously only read in books. None of the books could compare to the all-encompassing feeling it truly was.

Satan stares at the paper in front of him with a clenched jaw and lets out a disgruntled huff. Letting go of his pen (he really should loosen his hold, it might break and with the rate he’s going he won’t have any left before he finishes a writing something he’s even somewhat content with) and crumpling up the piece of paper, he then chucks it to the pile of other love letters— none of which had come out like he had wanted—, and he starts anew.

It’s a little silly, he thinks, that things ended up like this. When you had first been chosen as the exchange student Satan hadn’t cared, rather he had found himself a little annoyed. It would be incredibly inconvenient to live in the same house as a human, especially with how Lucifer had hounded them to “be more careful” and “suppress” themselves a little more around you. So in the beginning he had kept his distance from you. He had better things to do than to entertain a “dumb” human like you, humans are just a bunch of useless trouble anyway. He cringes at what he had thought of you in the beginning.

He isn’t sure when his feelings for you first started changing from mild annoyance to something else (that’s a lie, he remembers the moment vividly, but sometimes he questions if his thoughts about you had shifted earlier and he just hadn’t noticed). Perhaps it was when you first got your pact with Mammon, just a day after first being summoned. While Satan would be the first to admit that his brother is a complete idiot that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s the second most powerful of them, a student council officer on top of that, so for an ordinary human to manage to form a pact with him so quickly was definitely intriguing. At the time he thought you would stop at that, but you didn’t. Instead you decided to compete against Levi in a competition, a quiz to see who was the biggest The Seven Lords fan at that. A fool’s errand, Satan would have said if you had asked him at the time. Yet you seemed determined to actually win.

He had heard that humans often had a lot of audacity but he would have thought that even the dumbest human could tell that they had no chance of winning. Levi was older than you could even rationalise in your limited human mind, and he had spent a good portion of that time consuming any sliver of TSL media. You must have known that, right? No, Satan knows you knew that, you are a lot smarter than he had ever given you credit for in the past, yet despite that you were still determined to go through with the competition. He supposes it was that reckless determination that had fascinated him enough to tell you to seek out Simeon to help you win. You hadn’t won but you did end up forming a pact with Levi later that same day.

It is that same reckless determination that he loves and hates, it both causes him anguish and makes him admire you. It was that same reckless determination that made you protect both Beel and Luke from Lucifer that day Luke entered the underground tomb and had taken The Grimoire. He had not been there while it had happened, but he had heard. At the time it had amused him how you had stood against Lucifer, now it makes him wish you didn’t disregard your life as much as you had done in the first couple of months of your stay. You already have such a short life, you shouldn’t cut it even shorter… Satan cuts off that thought right there and crumples up the paper in front of him before he places a new one in its place.

He hadn’t believed Asmo when he had said you had been able to coax out more power in him than Solomon ever had. At the time he had just assumed it was Asmo getting too excited over a new “play-thing” (his lip curls up at that, he hates calling you such demeaning things) and was over exaggerating as he usually does.

Yet, Lucifer was wary of you. That meant something because as much as Satan hates to admit it there are very few things that Lucifer can’t handle. During that time Satan had only focused on the fact that you bothered him, and you forming pacts with his brothers bothered him even more. To former him, it was very clear as to what he needed to do. In the present, however, Satan thinks it was foolish of him to be so willing to give away his autonomy just to get under Lucifer’s skin. It was also said foolishness of him that led him to almost kill you when you had rejected his request to form a pact. Satan can feel himself start to frown at the memory of him threatening to tear you limb from limb. He had been so enraged by the thought of a simple human being the one to reject him, that an ordinary human— who didn’t even have the capabilities to use magic— would think themselves better than him, the Avatar of Wrath. The current Satan could never even imagine himself saying something so vile and hateful to you, but at that moment he had been fully ready to go through with the threats. For once in his life, he’s glad Lucifer had stepped in and stopped him.

Then, in spite of the threats, you were still willing to help Lucifer and his relationship (though Satan also has the sneaking suspicion that a big portion of the reason you wanted to help was because you had grown tired of their arguing, especially while sleeping in your room). Arguably, transporting them into, at the time had seemed like, a dating sim wasn’t the best plan but you still tried to make the best out of the situation. It’s cliché, but he can still remember your words from the evening before they were supposed to “profess their love” with vivid clarity because, admittedly, Satan believes it was then he first started developing these feelings for you.

You had asked to speak with him after he had apologised for dragging you into the whole mess. “You don’t have to force yourself to like someone you don’t. Lucifer doesn’t see you as a child as much as you think, he only wants to look good in front of Diavolo as his number two,” is what you had told him. The first part stuck with him, is still stuck with him if Satan is going to be truly honest. Such a simple concept, that you don’t have to like someone. One that he had come across in his books several times before you had even been a thought in the universe. Despite that, when you had said it to him in your typical bold fashion it was as if it was the first time he’d heard of the mere prospect. Like a fog that had swallowed his brain was finally cleared. Satan believes that if you were to ask Levi to describe it, he would say something along the lines of: “he finally reached a high enough level to unlock the ability to understand secret texts.”

Your very simple words had given him a shocking amount of things to contemplate, even more so when the whole situation with Grisella’s death on the train. Her perspective of it not mattering what hand fate deals you but how you deal with it along with yours had made him come to the realisation that he can never go back and change the circumstances of his birth. However, he can choose how to live his life and that has nothing to do with Lucifer. Because he’s not him. It was such a simple answer to an issue that had been plaguing him ever since he was born, and he’s sure that he was only able to find the answer because of you (irregardless of how much you’d like to claim that you didn’t much of a part in his discovery).

Then after the whole fiasco of Lucifer and him switching bodies you had finally accepted his request to form a pact with you. Satan feels his fingertips graze over where his pactmark sits on your body as he smiles. A pact, something that connects the two of you on a much deeper level than any piece of metal exchanged in a ceremony ever could, not that he wouldn’t mind being bonded to you in such a way though. A pact, something akin to an invisible string that ties the two of you together; a string that pulls him to you constantly (he wonders if you feel the same pull), a string that makes him share your pain, a string that binds the two of you together until the day you die.

Perhaps even longer, Satan thinks as his eyebrows furrow and he feels his whole body tense, because you did die. He had felt the tightness in his neck, his brothers had as well— the brothers that had formed pacts with you at that point at least— and they had all ran to the foyer where they had found you along with their youngest brother but it was in a situation Satan is sure he’ll never get out of his mind. Mammon had been the first to move, he had ran to you and had clutched your dying body in his arms. Satan curses his past self for not doing the same. He curses himself for just standing there, watching helplessly, as your pain coursed through his body in pulses. In rhythm with your dying heart. He should have joined in as his brothers started to yell at their youngest, he’s the Avatar of Wrath. However, in that moment, despite having watched countless of humans die before you— being the cause to some of them— he had never in his life felt more lost. Yet, you came back. Satan had watched as you stepped out of the shadows and as you, the one in Mammon’s arms, had slowly fade into nothingness. He had stood just watching as you revealed the truth about Lilith and your relation to her. The he had continued to simply watch as the rest of his brothers had all started hugging you. When he looks back on it, he hadn’t done much but watch during the whole incident. It had weighed heavy on his heart ever since and he had vowed to never be so complacent when you’re in danger.

Then after the whole incident his brothers and him had gone on to do something that he now realises (thanks to you) was incredibly foolish. What number was he of foolish things he’d done in regards to you now? Satan is quite shocked that despite every foolish thing he and his brothers have done you’re still willing to put up with them. Not just that, but you’re willing to love them. Despite the fact that they had foolishly tried to pretend like you hadn’t died that night and that everything was fine. Despite the fact that because of their own denial they had neglected to check if you were okay after you had just died. Despite the fact that they had pushed the responsibility of mending their relationships onto you once more while you were trying to deal with your own whirlwind of emotions over your own death. Despite all of it, you still chose to love them. Satan doubts they’ll ever be worthy of that, of your love, of you. Rightfully, you had called them out on their shameful behaviour.

That evening when you had told them off for down-right ignoring your death Satan believes he fell for you completely, body and— if he had been a human— soul. The green wrath that surrounded you that night was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. His sin engulfing you and the tendrils of it ebbing throughout the dining hall. You had been stewing in this anger for quite a while, he had concluded that evening, because the wrath flowing off of you was so strong. Intoxicating, almost. He had never seen you that angry before, you were usually very good at keeping calm. Of course, you got annoyed and irritated a few times but nothing to that degree. He had needed to stab his fork into his thigh to maintain even some semblance of composure, to not transform fully. As you were berating them he had found it hard to breathe with how your wrath was overwhelming all of his senses, much like how his love is for you nowadays. It was also that evening where Satan finally realised that the seeds of you had fully bloomed into a garden and grown roots in his heart, and he wasn’t willing to rip them out. He loved you, he realised, as much as you’d like to say it wasn’t possible to love someone after such a short period of time he knew he loved you and he’d never love another.

Truthfully, he feels a little bashful admitting that he had only realised he loved you when you were taken over by his sin and insulting them for their poor decision making in deciding to ignore your death, but he was going to be honest with you. You had once said that you value honesty a lot, and he’d give you anything you wanted— no matter what it was; whether it be all the riches in the world, someone’s head, or even the crown to a country. He’d give it to you— and you had wanted his honesty so he’ll give it.

The days following your outburst his eyes could not leave you, as much as he had wanted them to (you were still mad at him, he had yet found the words for the apology you deserved; by simply just existing you tend to render him speechless). He started to notice every little thing about you, your routines, your habits, your ticks, your quirks. Each thing made him fall deeper and deeper in love with you. Even in his lonesome he couldn’t escape you. In every book he’d find you, usually taking shape as the love-interest as he immersed himself in a world where he was that book’s protagonist. In his dreams the two of you would go on adventures, ranging from simple dates on the beach to travelling to different human-world countries. Even when he was out shopping he’d find himself reminded of you from various trinkets and thinking of what clothes or foods or various other goods you’d like. A few times while passing more risky stores that he’d commonly find Asmo browsing, he couldn’t help his mind from wandering to things he would one day like to see you in (if you were comfortable with it, of course. You and your comfort take precedence over everything else).

Eventually he had found the words and given you an apology for how he’d behaved, not even just regarding your death but prior to that as well, and you had accepted it. As the relationship continued to grow as had his feelings. He was no longer simply “in love” with you, but rather he felt something much more intense, overwhelming, and ineffable. Satan supposes that’s why he can never seem to find any words that seem fitting enough for you or the love he holds for you.

Combining his fingers through his hair, Satan sighs as he leans back in his chair. He had set out to write a love letter to you, yet all he’s done so far is reminisce over how his feelings developed for you over the course of your stay. He looks down at the paper in front of him and gently glides his fingers over the words. He isn’t even fully sure why he’s writing this to you. Right, because you valued honesty. The paper starts to lightly shake and Satan realises it’s because his hands are trembling. How humiliating, he’s the Avatar of Wrath, 4th most powerful lord of the underworld, yet the idea of giving you a love letter is what makes him tremble. What if you don’t reciprocate his feelings? His mind starts to doubt, but he forces himself to calm down. Even if you don’t feel the same he will continue to love you and stay by your side. His feelings for you will never change nor waver, he’s sure of that, and for as long as you’ll allow him he’ll stay right by your side.

The Love Letter:

My Dearest,

Recently my thoughts have been drawn irresistibly to you, while that in-and-of-itself isn’t uncommon I find that now it’s become unbearable to simply keep them to myself. So, here I am penning my deepest affections for you as I find myself reminiscing over our shared past. Once, I recall you had told me that you value honesty, so I shall be fully honest with you as I write this. When you had first been summoned I had not thought much of you. I had assumed that you wouldn’t have survived to the end of the exchange year. Yet, you did, technically. However, you didn’t just survive, you managed to thrive. You subverted every last one of my expectations and I found myself growing more and more affection towards you. Now, you’ll be leaving and returning to the human world in a couple of days and I would forever regret it if I didn’t disclose my feelings to you at least once before you leave.

I love you, truly and deeply. From your courage to your kindness as well as your defiance, you have ensnared my heart in ways I never thought possible. You consume my every waking thought and even as I sleep I still find you in every one of my dreams. You’ve seen the depths of my fury, the intensity of my wrath, been victim to my thoughtlessness, and yet, you remain. You choose to stay by me regardless. You’ve awakened emotions in me that I had once only read within the pages of my books. Love, trust, and a tenderness that shouldn’t be possible of the Avatar of Wrath. I find myself yearning for even a moment of your attention, a quick glance or wave as you pass me through the halls. With you, I am not just Satan, the Avatar of Wrath, but something more, something much bigger; a being capable of deep, profound love.

There is not a moment that goes by in which I don’t adore you. Each day I find myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you and all of your quirks. From your beautiful eyes, which seem to invariably lure me in, to your laughter that, like a melody, pierces through the cacophony of my existence, bringing a sense of peace I never knew I craved. And your touch, gentle and reassuring, has the power to calm the raging storm within me. Your endless curiosity makes me remember the beauty of learning and of our world. Your reckless bravery, however with that one I wish you would rely on me more. You don’t have to deal with everything by yourself. Even the traits that humans tend to label as bad I find myself loving; your sarcasm, your stubbornness, your cockiness, your selfishness, and your impulsivity. I even find myself loving your pure cruelty, however rare that one is.

Know this, my beloved, my heart, once a vessel of only wrath, now beats with an ardent longing for you. It would no longer be right to call it mine for it seems to be filled solely with you. I am yours, wholly and completely, bound by a love that transcends the very fabric of our existence. No matter what your response is, trust that I will stay by your side for as long as you let me; whether that be as a friend or as a lover. Either way, I will love you until the end of eternity.

Forever, and always, yours,

Satan

[non-stick-pansexual]

ugh. one of my friends today told me that they were upset that Neal Shusterman, a Jewish and Ukrainian YA dystopian author (who I happen to quite like due to the themes explored in his work), supports Israel, and that they stopped reading a book halfway through and would donate all their books by him. Which just makes me so upset and angry for multiple reasons.

First and most importantly, Neal has NOT expressly stated his support for Israel!! From everything I can find, all he’s guilty of is saying that people are too quick to have a simple mindset for a complex issue (which I agree with) and that everyone, Israeli, Palestinian, Jewish and Muslim, deserves empathy (which I also agree with). And he said this IN A PRIVATE NEWSLETTER!! They’re acting like he’s some Kahanist, genocidal colonizer, or whatever. At MOST, he doesn’t think that Israel should be destroyed. Apparently a controversial opinion for a public figure to have, I guess.

Second— if I were to guess, they probably got their ‘Neal Shusterman is a Zionist’ idea from one of those idiotic “Zionist authors/artists list”, which tend to be lists of almost just Jewish artists, most of whom have done little to nothing to outwardly display their zionist beliefs, if they even have them! This makes me even more upset, because if they don’t consume media from Neal Shusterman, I can only imagine that they’re also blocking out a bunch of other Jewish authors and artists, which just makes me sad and angry.

It’s SO easy to find out Neal’s stated beliefs on Israel and Palestine because it’s the FIRST THING that comes up when you google it, and he’s only ever said 1 thing about it. I’m so mad at my friend for their gullibility, their blind parroting of antisemitic notions. I expected better, but I guess I probably shouldn’t have. They’re one of my closest friends, and I haven’t talked to them about this but I hardly think I can change their opinion.

I don’t know how to describe how I feel. Idk if I’m allowed to be as upset as I am. I don’t want to be this upset at someone this close to me over a passing comment, but it’s so FRUSTRATING.

Sorry, all— I know this isn’t a big deal for most of you~ this happens all the time, but I just weirdly thought I was immune, or something. Just hit a little too close to home is all.

[ironstrange1991]

Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The reader and Stephen are students at Kamar Taj and when she needs his help with her exams, Stephen makes her an indecent offer.

Word Count: 6,5k

Warnings: SMUT: Dubcon, hate sex (at least in the beggining), handjob, oral sex with male receiving, forced (?) deep throat, umprotected p n v, lost of virginity, mentions of pain and blood, forced (?) creampie.

A/N: It took me a while to finish this fic, but I'm very happy with the result. Hope you like it.

You had been a student at Kamar Taj for no more than a few months when the new guy arrived. You were in the hall and even served him tea at the time, then you left letting the Ancient One and Master Mordo speak to him. However, of course you were peeking behind the curtains listening to the entire conversation. You saw the disrespectful and absurd way in which he addressed the Ancient One and you also saw how she, with all her power and somewhat sadistic humor, put him in his place.

You spent that day studying the old books that Wong had recommended for you and as you did so you heard the incessant knocking on the door and the shouts of "Let me in" or "I have nowhere to go." The situation was funny at first because like the Ancient One, you also had a certain sadistic side, but after hours of that incessant whining you started to feel sorry for the man. He was kinda cute.

When he was allowed to join you and become a student of the mystic arts you decided that you would not make his life easy. Whenever you could, you teased him for being the new guy, for being the guy whose hands could barely conjure mere sparks. During training in the courtyard, The Ancient One always had the two of you train together and you didn't take it easy on him. You might be small, but you were agile. He on the other hand was tall, had a well defined body, not too thin, very muscular, but was extremely slow. Apparently all the years of being an arrogant rich guy had made him soft and you liked seeing him lying on the floor whenever you got the chance.

"Y/n, no messing around. Grab your relics and get into fighting stance." Master Mordo instructed in one of the training afternoons and you chose one of the relics, but when the new guy went to get his, you slapped his hand making him look at you with a mixture of surprise and irritation. He was very handsome when he was angry, his blue eyes darkening with the fury he tried to contain. Wounded pride showing in every line of his furrowed brow.

"You don't deserve a relic yet, old man."

He ran his tongue across the corner of his cheek, clearly annoyed, but decided to play along. "I already told you my name is Stephen Strange."

You shrugged, getting into a fighting stance. "And I already said I don't care. Now be less miserable and conjure a weapon, so I'll feel less bad when I hit you."

He chuckled nervously, making a valiant effort to conjure something that could barely be described as a weapon, but it would have to do because you quickly went in for a blow that he reasonably defended himself from.

You smiled mischievously "You're getting better. I've always believed it's possible to learn through pain."

He clearly didn't like your comment, because he struck a blow at you that you barely have time to defend yourself by creating a shield.

"You don't know anything about my pain." He spat out the words.

Apparently you had hit a nerve. Excellent.

Your relationship with Strange didn't changed much beyond that for a long time, but you liked to think that somehow you were growing inside him, because he was always close even when you didn't necessarily need to be together. Like in the library.

It was as if he always knew the exact time you were in the library and would go there and steal books that were clearly not allowed for someone of his level. Not even at your level.

"You're going to end up with your head in a bucket over this." You said one of those nights while reading under the light of a single candle at the farthest desk in the library.

"Only if you tell on me." He responded, bringing the book under his arm and coming towards you. He threw the heavy book on the table and smiled arrogantly at you. When you looked at the book your eyes widened in complete amazement.

"This book belongs to the Ancient One's collection, are you crazy?"

He pulled out a chair and sat at the desk with you. "Wong said no knowledge is prohibited at Kamar Taj."

You rolled your eyes "Yes, I know that speech, it was exactly that that led Kaecilius to perdition."

Strange stared at you and then at the book. "So this is the book that was stolen."

"If it's in your hand, it's obvious that it wasn't stolen. Only a spell was removed from it. An evil spell that neither you nor I have the slightest idea of ​​what it does."

But it was useless, every word of warning seemed to instigate the man even more. You had been around Strange long enough to know that he was hard-headed and when he put something in his head no one could take it away.

You closed the book you were reading and levitated it to the shelf by moving little more than your fingertips.

"Show off." He scolded as he flipped through the forbidden book.

"If you allow me, I will leave before you do something that’ll get us killed, or worse, expelled."

With that he smiled widely, that must have been the first time you saw him smiling, at least for you.

"Did you just quote Harry Potter? How old are you, twelve?"

You shrugged. "I'm 21 in two weeks, I'll take a gift." You said walking down the hall.

As days went by, it became increasingly clear to you that all that provocation had a much deeper meaning than you wanted to admit. You've never been with a man, in fact you've never even been interested in a man. Your life has always been studying and after you were orphaned after a car accident that killed your parents and almost killed you, you felt lost in the world and found out about Kamar Taj and dedicated yourself one hundred percent to it. That's what you always do, you find a source of interest, become completely obsessed and devote yourself to it until you learn everything you can from it and then move on to another obsession. At that point you were already recognizing the pattern and wondering how far you could go with that obsession with Strange when teasing or pestering him during training seemed to not be enough anymore.

You started teasing him in other ways, wearing robes that were tighter than necessary, shorts and tank tops that were smaller and shorter than allowed, all so he could get a good look at what he was missing. That is, of course, if he had any interest in you in the same way that you had in him. To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing. Provoking him was easy, but seducing wasn't exactly an area you had mastered.

The day before your birthday you were in the kitchen stealing what was left of your cake frosting when Strange caught you in the act. You were only wearing skimpy pajama shorts and a top that barely covered your breasts and bent over as you were, half of your body inside the fridge, you could imagine the image Stephen had of your ass.

"You should be embarrassed." His baritone voice came from behind you and in shock you hit your head on the top of the fridge which made him laugh. That laugh was something new and the way it made your stomach flutter was new too.

You took the pot out of the fridge, but left the door open, illuminating the dark kitchen with a beam of yellow light.

"It's my cake, my birthday, I have the right." You responded by sticking your index finger into the bowl and scooping out a little more of the icing and sticking it in your mouth teasingly taking it out with a loud pop.

You could see him swallowing thickly, his eyes getting darker with what you didn't quite know what it was.

"I'm referring to walking around the Kamar Taj dressed like that."

You shrugged "It's hot in Kathmandu." You made sure to smile mischievously at him. "After all, what are you doing walking around the Kamar Taj at this hour, Strange?" You questioned as if you had any right to it.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "I can't sleep. My hands are hurting more than usual."

You looked at him for a second, still leaning against the sink with the glass bowl in your hand, trying to think of what to say to him, but ended up opting for the easiest answer.

"You don't expect me to take pity on you and offer to massage your hands or something, right?" You tried to sound sarcastic, but since there was some truth in your suggestion, your voice sounded softer than you would have liked.

"I don't want pity, but a massage would be nice."

“Fuck off” You replied, turning around to put the bowl in the sink and wash your hands, but mostly to hide how red your cheeks had gotten.

He sighed, getting up and mumbling a good night and leaving the kitchen and you stood there wondering if he was really serious or not. In any case, that was absurd, you both didn't have that kind of intimacy.

You ended up as usual in the library, finishing the last chapters of the book that you needed to finish for the end of the year exams. When you joined Kamar Taj, you didn't realize how much theory you would have to learn, you always thought it would be more practice than books and exams, but things weren't exactly as you imagined and you weren't as good at theory as you were in practice. Your memory wasn't like Strange's. The bastard could memorize an entire book in that deranged brain of his, you could barely memorize your own notes. Clearly there was a bargaining chip there, you thought ironically. I massage his hands and he help me study.

You chuckled to yourself thinking how absurd the idea was, but as you read the endless pages of the book that confused you more than clarified the subject, the more tempted you became to actually make the offer to Strange. The best you could get for an answer was no, right?

Finally, you gave up on your studies and put the books back on the shelves and left the library towards the dorms, you were still deciding between going straight to your dorm or knocking on Strange's door when you heard a sound coming from his room. You stopped in front of the door, your hand on the doorknob waiting and then you heard it again, a groan. He must have really been in a lot of pain to be groaning like that. You even felt bad about the way you spoke to him in the kitchen earlier.

You gave up knocking and simply turned the handle and to your surprise the door opened. It was dark inside, but the little light coming from the window made it clear as day what he was actually doing or trying to do and before he noticed your presence another groan escaped his lips followed by a curse "Damn hands. "

You swallowed heavily and closed the door behind you and only then did he notice your presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He asked completely defensively, adjusting himself in the small chair at the desk that could barely contain his entire size in it. At the same time he removed his hand from inside his boxers, but there was an erection there so obvious that the white fabric did little to hide.

"I came to make you an offer, but since you're busy I can come back another time." You answered turning around to leave.

He groaned and in that sound you could feel a little frustration, a little irritation and also some curiosity. “Wait.”

He snapped his fingers and some light bulbs came on. "If you tell anyone what you saw here, I swear I'll kill you." He threatened.

You smirked, "Threatening to kill me isn't the best thing you can do to keep my mouth shut. It's actually the worst thing, since we both know you're no match for me in combat."

He raised an eyebrow challenging you. "I've evolved a lot since I got here, Y/n, don't underestimate me."

You shrugged. "I'm not here to fight, Strange. I came to ask for help with my studies. You know my exams are coming up and I'm not as good in theory as I am in practice. If I do poorly in the exams, The Ancient One won't let me participate in the advanced spell training and I'm really excited to get started...”

"Let me get this straight. You're asking for my help? Is that right?"

You walked over to him and sat on the bed, crossing your arms dramatically. "Unfortunately it's my only option."

He shifted again in his chair and you couldn't help but notice that thing between his legs.

 "So... what do you say?"

"I could help you. The question is whether I want to or not. Let's think about it for a minute. Since I got here you have dedicated yourself to make my life really hard. You are an insufferable brat, you are rude... "

"Okay, I understand. Where are you going with this? Are you going to help me or not?"

Strange smiled mischievously as if suddenly some brilliant idea had crossed his mind. "It will depend on what you’ll give me in return."

Something about that smile made the heat rise to your cheeks again and you swallowed thickly.

"You mentioned early in the kitchen that your hands were hurting. I thought… maybe you wanted a massage or something." Your voice became lower and lower and by the end of the sentence it was almost a whisper.

He hummed, "Something like that." He replied and then sighed heavily.

"Do you know what the big problem with my hands is? I can't jerk off"

You looked at him, completely shocked that he was saying that to you, but you supposed that after teasing him for all that time, he didn't exactly have much respect for you, especially because he must have already noticed that you maintained a certain interest in him.

"And tonight, after you were showing off that ass of yours for me in the kitchen I really needed to jerk off."

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

"You tease me and tease me, but you don't offer anything in return. You keep wearing these indecent clothes and I know it's not because of the heat, but because you want me to look at you. You call me an old man, but I know you love how old I am. So spare me that innocent face of yours because I know you're not innocent."

Actually, you were, but you didn't tell him that. You had never been with a man. Some heated kisses, yes, some touching and teasing, but nothing more than that. The problem was that you played your role too well.

"Are you going to help me or not?" You mumbled.

"Come here." He asked and you hesitated for a moment, but then you gave in and slowly walked towards him, stopping in front of him, waiting for what he would say next.

"I don't want a massage. I need your hands to jerk off. In other words, I want a handjob. A really good handjob and depending on how good it is I might be good and help you pass those exams."

You chewed on your lip. There was a part of you that liked the idea of ​​being intimate with him like that, but another much more conscious part knew how wrong it was. You weren't comfortable with that situation.

"And how exactly is a really good handjob? I need to know my chances here if I'm going to do this."

He smirked. "Let me see your hands. Palms up."

You obeyed.

"They're small, which means you'll have to use both at the same time because, as you can see..." He brought his hands to the sides of his boxers and in a quick movement they were on his knee, freeing his huge dick. "It's very big."

"You're an arrogant idiot, you know that?" You mumbled, unable to hold your tongue in your mouth.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to his cock and instinctively you wrapped it around him and it felt so warm and so hard, you didn't imagine it was that hard.

"Come on, you know what to do!" He said, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

You knelt down to his height and moved your hand up and down, but clearly something was wrong. "Shouldn't it be wet?" You asked innocently, to which he let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, I don't have lube. You'll need to use your own spit."

You looked at him in surprise, but he clearly understood your reaction as disgust.

He sighed dramatically, held his own cock by the base and spat on it and then moved his trembling hand spreading the saliva over the entire length. "There. It's wet now."

You grabbed him, determined to end it once and for all. From what you knew, he hadn't had sex for a long time and if you did it right he wouldn't last long.

You started to pump him up and down quickly, but contrary to your plans, he held your hand "Slow down, I want to enjoy myself for a bit."

You sighed doing what he wanted, you used both hands to stroke him slowly making sure to rotate your hands on the way down and making sure to touch his head on the way up. It was your first time doing that, but you weren't a saint, you had already watched porn and remembered some things and by the way he started to squirm, barely able to stay still in the chair, you could tell you were doing something right.

He started to moan too, at first low and then louder and soon some words began to escape his lips as if he was unable to contain them.

"Fuck Y/n, you really know what you're doing, don't you? Oh I missed this, it's been so long!"

You couldn't hide from yourself that his words seemed to move you, it was almost as if you could feel a warmth in your chest, a surge of pride at being praised by him and more than that, you felt your panties getting wet.

There was no point trying to hide that you were enjoying this. Deep down you always imagined yourself in some kind of erotic scenario with Strange. Alone in your small room, you found yourself thinking about him and he was right, you teased him to try to get some reaction from him. You just never imagined things would happen this way, but you were too involved in it to care.

You watched in delight as how much of that sticky liquid came out of his tip the more you stimulated him, and you also realized that you liked the noises that your hands jerking him made, not to mention his moans that got louder and louder. The next thing you knew, you were squeezing your thighs together and he only didn't notice because he had leaned his head back and kept his eyes closed, but when an involuntary moan escaped your lips he looked at you intently with a grin in his lips.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You dirty little brat!"

You couldn't maintain eye contact with him, so you kept your eyes on his cock, noticing every vein, every detail of that cock that was the first one you had the chance to see up close.

You spat on his cock and continued your work without responding to his provocation, but he wasn't willing to let it go.

"Look at me."

You did what he asked somewhat reluctantly.

"I want your mouth, sweetheart."

You looked at him in surprise, not because of what he asked, but because of the way he referred to you and especially because of how it made you feel.

"I... I don't know how to do it." You replied and he smirked.

"I find that hard to believe."

You looked away feeling your face even hotter. Was it really possible that you had played your role so well that you managed to make the man you were interested in believe you were a whore? You were not. You weren't even close to that, but now it was too late to try to change his opinion about you.

"Tell me how you like it." You asked, disguising your inexperience.

"Deep in the throat. That's how I like it. But I'll take what you give me. Just use this mouth of yours for something more productive than talking shit."

You were slightly offended and bothered by the way he was treating you. Despite everything, in your fantasies he was always kind, but you tried not to let that show and opened your mouth as much as you could and he stuck his head in and instinctively reached his hand up to your head and grabbed a handful of your hair. "Use your tongue, swirl it in the head."

You did exactly as he asked and felt his hold on your hair tighten. He started to push your head down, forcing you to take him deeper and deeper until you gagged and tears ran down your face.

"That's how I like it." He took his cock out of your mouth and held your chin making you look at him. "There's nothing like a good cock to tame a brat, right sweetheart?"

You swallowed the saliva you had gathered in your mouth and nodded obediently.

"You can take a little more, can't you?"

You nodded.

"Good girl. Open your mouth really wide, I'm going to go deeper this time, okay?"

You just nodded again, apparently that was all you could do, obey his commands even if you didn't agree with them. You felt as he pushed his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth, entering your throat until you could no longer breathe. Automatically you grabbed his thighs and started pushing to try to get away from him, but he didn't let you go.

"It's okay. Just breathe through your nose" He cooed. You had never heard that tone of voice from him, at least not when he was talking to you, but a part of you liked it.

You did as he ordered, but the sensation was no less uncomfortable when you felt him going down your throat. Your gag reflex was horrible and soon you were crying profusely as streams of saliva ran down your mouth as he continued thrusting against your throat.

"Look at you, you're crying on my dick, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how beautiful this is?"

You pushed his thigh again and tried to lift your head and this time he allowed it.

He continued holding your hair though and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

"Not such a bully now, are you?"

You were feeling overwhelmed, your voice refused to come out and there was a secret part inside you that was loving the feeling of being used, even when you knew deep down that it was wrong.

He stood up and pulled you up too. "Let's make a deal. I'll touch you now and if you're dry I'll let you finish with the handjob and we'll stop here..."

You stared at him, fully aware of the mess that was between your legs.

He smirked, pleased with your reaction and continued explaining "...but if you're wet... Oh sweetheart, if you're wet, I'll fucking ruin you."

When his hand slipped into your shorts and panties your legs were shaking and could barely support you standing. You knew you should tell him the truth, that you should stop it while there was still time, but you couldn't. You were paralyzed. Physically your body was having positive reactions, you were soaking wet between your legs, you were ready to take him. But mentally you were a mess. This wasn't what you imagined for your first time. It wasn't how it should be.

"Oh I knew it! I could smell it on you. Your arousal... such a sweet smell."

You placed your hand over his hand "Strange... I don't know..."

"Shhh, it's okay.  I think you can call me Stephen now."

He moved his middle finger through your folds and circled your clit making your hips move involuntarily against his hand. He brought his face closer to yours and for a minute you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he whispered in your ear. "You always wanted this, right? All the teasing was because you wanted me. I bet you've already touch yourself thinking about me, haven't you?"

You didn't respond, but when he took two fingers inside you, you winced feeling a sting deep inside. He didn't seem to notice.

"Tell me." He insisted.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"I always wanted you." You whined.

He hummed "I'm here now. I'm going to give you what you've always wanted."

With that he bent you over the desk and pulled your shorts and panties down to your knees and you could hear him spitting into his hand.

"Stephen...w-wait..."

He spread his saliva at your entrance and you clung as best you could to the edges of the small wooden desk bracing yourself for what was to come.

He didn't say anything, he just buried himself inside of you with a strong, firm thrust and it was done. All the fantasies, all the expectations around it disappeared in a second, giving way to pain, a tearing sting that brought tears to your eyes, but you didn't make a sound.

He groaned in pleasure, but in confusion too and then stopped altogether. When he spoke again his voice sounded low and slightly nervous.

"Were you a fucking virgin? Really?"

You let out the breath you were holding in small puffs, "I t-tried to tell you."

He pulled out and turned you around to face him. "You didn't tell me shit. How was I supposed to know?!"

You wiped the tears from your eyes "It's no big deal okay? I should have resolved this a long time ago, I just never found..." You bit your tongue before you said too much. You had already given him too much power over you that night.

Stephen ran a hand nervously through his mouth. "We'd better stop this here." He stated, but you held his hand.

"Stephen... it's no big deal. I want this. Just... do it."

He held your face between his huge, shaking hands and stared into your eyes and you could see all the certainty in him slipping away but you had to keep going. If you stopped now it would be too humiliating.

"Stephen, please." You whispered.

 "You stupid little brat!" Stephen said with a heavy sigh and then kissed you. An angry and desperate kiss. A clash of lips, tongues and teeth mixed with the hums that escaped your throats.

In one quick movement he picked you up, bride style, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

"What are you doing?"

He walked over to his bed and laid you carefully on the pillows.

"If we're going to do this, sweetheart, let's do it right."

You watched as he got rid of his tee and found yourself analyzing every inch of his body. He was so beautiful, his defined chest and abdomen, his strong arms, his hands... you lost count of how many times you stared at his hands while your mind conjured up the dirtiest scenarios possible.

"Like what you see?" He asked arrogantly and you couldn't help but roll your eyes, it was stronger than you. "If I didn't like it I wouldn't be here."

"I thought you were here to offer me a deal." He smirked grabbing your shorts and panties that were still tangled around your knees and pulling them off. He threw them on the floor, staring at you with a damn arrogant smile on his lips. "Give up being a brat, this behavior doesn't suit virgins."

You felt the heat returning to your cheeks, but you didn't have time to think of a response because he climbed onto the bed and came on top of you, your legs parted so he could settle between them and before you could understand what he was doing, his lips were on your belly as he lifted the tank top you were wearing and continued his assault on your skin. He kissed and bit you while lifting your top exposing your breasts. He caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking it with newfound passion. A low moan escaped your lips while he did it and you moved your hips up involuntarily. He hummed pleased with your response.

"Stephen...please."

He moved his lips up to your neck, sucking a bruise on your sensitive skin. The touch of his goatee making your entire body shiver. He continued moving his mouth up, nibbling on your earlobe, breathing heavily into your ear on purpose while grinding his hard dick against your uncovered pussy.

"Tell me what you want." He whispered.

But instead of answering him, you surrendered to your fear and asked. "Will it hurt more?"

He cupped your face. "The worst part is over, but I'll take it slow now, I promise."

You shook your head. "No. Just do whatever you have to do until you make me feel good."

He grabbed your chin with more force than you would expect and used his other hand to direct his cock to your entrance and kissed you as he entered you again, going all the way in. You felt the same sting deep in your belly, but it hurt less this time, however the discomfort of having him inside you was something you still needed to get used to. He was big and even though he wasn’t moving you could feel his dick pulsing inside you. It was an strange sensation.

"Now move with me." He asked, grabbing your thigh and wrapping your leg around his waist and with that going even deeper. The movements began, he thrusted slowly but hard and you clung to him, your arms wrapped around his torso, nails biting against the skin of his back as you tried to imitate his movements.

The whole time his lips didn't leave your lips, your chin, your neck. He kissed and bit everywhere he could reach and in between his kisses he let out moans and groans and little praises.

"Oh fuck, this little virgin pussy feels so good... so tight."

You didn't imagined how much of the sexual response was much more physiological than a conscious thing. Before you even knew it your body was moving beneath his with much more desire and the pain and discomfort were replaced by a type of pleasure that was much stronger than the one you got when touching yourself in your room. Each thrust from Stephen triggered a new wave of desire and suddenly what he was giving you didn't seem to be enough, you wanted him all inside you, you wanted him to merge with you until it was no longer possible to know where one ended and the other began.

"Oh my god... it feels so good." You moaned against his lips as you wrapped both legs around his waist, crossing your feet behind his back and trapping him there.

"Yeah? My cock feels good inside you. Isn't that right, sweetie?"

“Uh hum” was all you could respond, but it was enough to inflate Stephen’s ego even more and he groaned loudly in response, gripping the headboard and you couldn’t tell how, but you knew he was close. There was something about the way his eyes were fixed on yours, his breathing became faster, his movements more irregular and in the midst of your bliss you were still able to reason "Stephen... I'm not taking anything."

But your words didn't have the effect you expected, on the contrary, he seemed to become even more determined to finish. His mouth fell open, loud moans and grunts escaping straight from his throat and his thrusts became even harder and faster.

"You're being such a good girl for me. Letting me fuck your pussy raw. I think I'll make it up to you." He rested his forehead on yours and continued. "I'm going to fill you with my cum and you're going to take all of it, won't you?"

You shook your head, but he shushed you.

"Of course you will. I'll leave you leaking my cum for days so you remember what you get for being a good girl. Who knows, maybe you'll come back for more?"

"But... we can't..."

He thrusted even harder against you and your mouth went agape with the feeling forming in the pit of your stomach. You knew you were close, but at the same time it was unlike anything you had ever felt. I was stronger and it seemed to come from much deeper inside you.

"Of course we can. Going to fuck a baby inside you, sweetheart. I know you will look beautiful carrying my baby."

 Your pussy fluttered at those words. How was it possible for you to feel that way? You knew you couldn't let him do that, but you didn't have the strength to fight him when your body was against you. The tension inside your stomach increased and you were so close, all you needed was a small push to fall and surrender to your climax.

"S-Stephen... I'm gonna cum. Oh my... shit."

He kept his pace holding on to the headboard to put more strength into his thrusts while with his other hand he grabbed your chin making you look at him.

"Look at me, Y/n. I want to see it happening. Show me how good my cook is making you feel."

"So good... cock feels so good inside me. I am so lucky." You muttered, barely aware of your own words. "I need to cum. Let me cum... Please..."

He smirked, surely satisfied with your total submission. "You can cum, sweetheart. Do it now."

The tension exploded within you with an intensity you had never experienced before. Unlike every time you came, the sensation was not concentrated in your clit, but came from the inside out, making your entire body shake and tears accumulate at your waterline.

"There you go." Stephen stopped thrusting, watching you with a victorious smile on his lips and then kissed you, a wet kiss, full of lust and desire. Fuck, he was such a good kisser. You felt yourself melting on his lips.

He groaned at your lips and, against your will, you felt him spilling inside you. You knew you should fight it, but in your state of pure bliss you couldn't find the strength within yourself to even try.

He broke the kiss only to lower his lips to your neck where he sucked a bruise too visible for you to hide with your robes. But you knew that was exactly his intention. He wanted to claim you. Showing you that from that moment on you were his and no matter how absurd it might seem, you liked the idea. In fact, that was exactly what you wanted.

He rolled to the side when he was finished, his breathing slowly returning to normal and you lay there feeling the weight of everything that had happened, disbelief and shame finally taking over you. You were suddenly terribly self conscious about lying naked on Strange's bed while his cum dripped from your violated pussy.

In the middle of your internal debate you decided to get up, but you were interrupted by Strange who held your arm and asked with some disbelief. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To my room. I... I think I need a shower."

He cupped your face smirking "Wait here. I'll clean you up."

You waited for him motionless on the bed, your heart beating so hard you could hear it pounding in your ears. You heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, he had left the door open and the room was too small so you couldn't hear him. He peed and wash himself and then came back a few minutes later with a towel in his hands and went back to bed. He cleaned you gently, the towel was wet with warm water and it felt good although the whole situation was extremely embarrassing.

"I'll help you with your studies." He said when he finished what he was doing. "You can wait for me in the library after dinner, but you can't rely on that alone to pass your exams. You need to read. That's what works for me. Hours of reading."

You sat on the bed and stared in disbelief at the small stain of blood on the white sheet. Your face blushed so hard you needed to look the other way.

"I shouldn't have done what I did, Y/n. I had no idea you were a virgin. I'm so sorry. I imagine it wasn't what you expected your first time to be."

You shook your head. "I always wanted it to be you." You confessed, staring at your hands. "You're right. I have feelings for you. That's why I tease you... so you'll notice me."

He sighed, but there was a certain tenderness in his eyes that you had never seen before.

"And do you want this to continue, or it’ll be a one-time thing?" Stephen asked and for a second you could see expectation in his eyes, as if he was waiting a long time for the answer he wanted to hear.

"I don't know, Strange. Do you want it to continue?"

He smirked looking away and then he nodded. "Yes. I want to do it again. And you can keep calling me Stephen. I think it's the most normal thing after I took your virginity."

You felt the heat running down from your cheeks to your neck.

"You look beautiful all red like that." He smiled at you. "I always thought you were beautiful, Y/n."

He came closer and cupped your face and kissed you. Soft and calm for the first time. Your lips moved in sync and somehow this kiss felt even more intimate than the others. When he broke the kiss there was a passionate smile on his lips.

He sighed getting up. "Feel free to use the bathroom. I'll change the sheets so we can sleep."

You did as he suggested, hiding in the bathroom while he disappeared with the evidence of your lost innocence. You took the opportunity to wash your face with clean water and went back to the room. He was already lying down and patted the mattress for you to join him. You picked up his tee that was on the floor and put it on and then lay down on the bed next to him. He pulled you into his arms and you both fell silent.

I need to know that you're okay, Y/n" He said.

You nodded. "I'm fine. Really." You glanced at him for a moment and then smiled. "You can call me sweetheart whenever you want. It's terribly cute." You teased.

He pinched your cheek "As you wish, sweetheart. Now let's try to sleep. We need to wake up early for training tomorrow. Promise you'll be good to me."

Your smirked “I’ll try.”

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[panlight]

I feel there's just so much wrong with the entire imprinting concept in the Twilight books.

The concept of never being able to say no or essentially make your own decisions because of the girl/whoever you imprinted almost sounds like a romanticized version of domestic abuse. Google describes it as "pattern incidents of controlling, coercive, degrading and violent behavior, etc". Now the threatening wouldn't be necessary because they literally don't have any choice or say in the matter. The entire idea of obsession and doing whatever pleases the person I've imprinted on sounds degrading, that you're now longer you're own person capable of making you're own choices. I find this ironic because SM literally tells us the underlying theme of these books is about choice. None of the wolves have a choice. They didn't choose to be wolves (shape shifters), they don't choose who they imprint on and they definitely don't choose what they get to do after imprinting. Did SM find it all romantic? Because everytime it's mentioned it just gives me the ick. The wolves are my favorite characters in the books and seeing them being forced into all this is so annoyinggg! They deserved SO much better.

Also, it shocks me that after all the success SM gained from tts that she didn't donate a penny to the Quileute tribe. It's super disappointing.

Oh, yeah, with you 100% on imprinting. I've never found it romantic. It reads as straight-up horror to me. Who even ARE you if you don't have free will? If you have to be whatever someone else needs? And beyond that it just feels fake and empty to me. Sam loved Leah. When he had a choice, he chose Leah. Magic overruled him and picked Emily instead. Why am I supposed to think his love for Emily is the 'real' love?

I get that the fantasy is supposed to be from the imprintee's POV, the fantasy of having this guy who is 100000% devoted to you, will never leave you, you never have to worry about cheating, he is there for you and will do whatever you want or need him to do. But that's not . . . that's not like a person who loves you, that's like a robot programmed to fulfill your wishes. For me, there's no real love without choice. This dude isn't choosing to show up for you every day if he has no other choice. It feels fake and arbitrary. Like a love potion, like Cupid's arrow.

And hell yes, the lack of choice with the wolves is a pattern and a really unsettling one given that she chose to make these characters Indigenous and tie their wolf-ness to that identity. They don't get to choose to be wolves, they don't get to choose who they love, within those relationships they have no agency and have to be/do whatever their partner wants, and then there's also the Alpha Order! They can literally be forced to obey, no choice there either. Again, this is straight up horror stuff. Loss of free will, loss of identity. That whole passage when Jacob imprints on Nessie is the stuff of nightmares to me. Everything that Jacob cared about, everything that made him who he was, is cut away and he is bound to a half-vampire baby instead. And now he has to keep phasing forever to stay immortal with her. To paraphrase Rosalie: this isn't the life he would have chosen for himself.

There are ways in which Twilight vampires get a raw deal too (when I'm sick and have a sore throat it's like, the Worst, so dealing with that forever and on a supernatural scale sounds horrific) but they still have CHOICES. Carlisle had the free will and agency to run to the forest and starve himself as a newborn. Rosalie had the will to kill her attackers without drinking their blood. Edward chose to leave Bella for a time when we're told Jacob spending any real time away from Nessie would be impossible because of the imprint. The vampires may have to FIGHT their nature sometimes, but SM lets them win more often than not. Carlisle can be a doctor; the Denali sisters can sleep with humans; Edward can resist Bella's blood; Bella can be the best newborn ever and not kill her dad. But the only time a shifter character is allowed to fight his nature is when Jacob defies Sam to break off and form his own pack, and that's only because of the loophole that Jacob was himself the rightful alpha. No one else has that option. Leah has to choose between allowing Sam or Jake to have alpha power over her.

Which is all why I thought Jacob's whole thing would be fighting an imprint. It would be so in character for him and such a good parallel to the vegetarian vampires fighting their thirst. I wanted to see Jacob say 'no, I don't care what destiny says, I will make my own path.' And you know if SM had had him imprint on literally anyone BUT Nessie or Bella she would have written about him fighting it! It would have been so cool! But no, because ultimately this is Bella's fantasy life, and part of her happily ever after is keeping Jacob around literally forever even though HE wouldn't have chosen an immortal life with the Cullens like Bella did.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 11: meet cute

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

A special one, I really enjoyed writing it. Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer walked through the gallery in silence, paying attention to all the paintings and trying to give them his own interpretation. For some strange reason, being in those places relaxed him greatly and right now it was what he needed most: a well-deserved respite after a long day of work.

“Good night,” he greeted a young woman, who was attentively looking at a painting.

The woman he saw couldn't have been more than thirty years old and her clothing was... how to put it? Something eccentric. All the clothes were vibrant tones and she wore a woven bag with uneven parts, who knows if it was on purpose or not.

“Good night,” you murmured just as kindly, keeping your hands in the pockets of your colorful jacket.

The painting in front of you was, in short, something grotesque. But it wasn't in a bad way, it had a certain special touch that made it… Spencer couldn't even describe it. It was very good, but to some extent uncomfortable to look at. Almost like a ritualistic crime scene that he was so used to: beautiful, but at the same time terrifying.

"Do you like it?"

“Huh?” the man asked, fearing he had misheard the girl next to him. She nodded toward the exhibit and her brain filled in the blanks. “The painting? Yes, I think it's very good. I'm afraid I'm not a great connoisseur of artistic currents, but from a very point of view this could be part of The Black Paintings, Francisco de Goya's collection”

“I know them,” you said happily. “My favorite is that one about Saturn devouring his son. You know, the one where they're eating a…” you started to say, making signs with your hands that he understood immediately.

“I think art is very subjective, like everything in the world. Some people may consider the Mona Lisa a masterpiece and others may appreciate more the style of Van Gogh or the cubism of Picasso and they are all right. Each person enjoys art things that reflect the content of their soul and I think that is the beautiful thing about paintings, don't you think?

“You know a lot for someone who is not knowledgeable about art” you smiled, feeling captivated by the way the stranger next to you expressed himself.

“Actually I say that I am not a connoisseur because I don’t want to offend those who are. I've only read a couple of books on the subject and... well, I love coming to museums, but that's all”

“Honestly, I think it's very ugly,” you said suddenly, turning your head slightly to observe the painting “It looks a little strange on the bottom, whoever did it should improve their technique a little.”

Spencer felt strange hearing such a cruel comment coming from a person who seemed to be sweet, but he figured you would have your reasons for holding that opinion. He considered leaving there but his attempt was interrupted by another presence, this time a man dressed in an elegant suit who approached you.

“Miss Y/L/N” he greeted you cordially, while you shook his hand “I see you came to appreciate our exhibition, do you like the light we put there? Does it help the colors of the work or do you want us to change it to a warmer one?”

“Oh, don't worry Frank. I like that one, it makes it look gloomy” you answered nonchalantly “You just should put it somewhere else, I'm not very proud of this one in particular”

"What are you talking about? Many people liked it. Isn't it good, gentleman?” he asked, turning to Spencer who was watching the two of them curiously.

“It's beautiful,” he confessed. He actually thought that, he wasn't saying it out of commitment or anything, and his response made you smile sheepishly.

"Stop. Everything is perfect here, thank you for giving it a home in your gallery”

“And there will be more spaces in the future, think about it,” the man murmured, squeezing your shoulder warmly and friendly. “Have a good night, excuse me.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

The two of you watched the man walk down the hallway until he got lost in a turn and then the agent turned his attention to you.

“So you're an artist?”

“I try that” you laughed. He took a look at you and then at the picture in front of you, as if he had a hard time believing that you were the creator, of course due to the difference in styles that both elements had “But I like that people don't know, so I can hear honest opinions. And I appreciate yours, you are very kind.”

"I only say what I see"

“Would it be very bold of me if I asked you to be my model one day?” you asked cautiously, hoping not to scare him with your request.

"A model?"

“I really like your jaw,” you exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air at the line you were talking about. “And the way your hair falls. They are nice to paint”

“Well, I…I would be flattered,” Spencer said, not knowing how to react to what you had just said. Something like that had never been suggested to him and he felt strange, but excited at the same time.

“Do you want to write me your number?”

“I can give you my card,” he stammered, digging in his briefcase so he could give you the piece of paper. When he extended it to you, you analyzed it with curiosity.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. FBI” you read, quite impressed “So we both got a surprise today, huh?”

"Definitely"

“I'll call you,” you promised, pocketing the card warily and rewarding him with one of yours. They were simpler with hand-painted details and with fewer titles, but it would be useful for him to contact you “And who knows, maybe the next time you come it will be you who is in the gallery.”

Spencer blushed at the thought and smiled at you, wondering how possible that was. You responded to the smile with pleasure, because unintentionally you had just found the one who would permanently become your muse.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[whxtedreams]

Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floor

Blood Runs Thicker than Water - Joel & F!Reader (Platonic DBF!)

Summary: After Tommy deals with the Raiders that attempted to kill him in his own home, Tommy goes into town in search for the rest of the group.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Tommy takes out his anger on a Raider, injury & blood, Joel being described as god damn heavy, Tommy saves Joel but Joel just gets angry at him, descriptions of dead bodies

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Read on AO3

Chapter 15: Bloodstained Floor

In a brutal and determined grip, Tommy grips the last man’s throat, his fingers digging deep into his windpipe as blood slowly drips down the walls, staining the scattered coloring books on the ground. Anger grows, his breaths labored as he stares intently into the man’s eyes.

Despite the strain on his neck, the man in Tommy’s hands manages a perverse smile, a twisted gleam in his eyes. “You can’t save them,” He gasps, the words heavy with a sinister threat. “You better pray that little girl dies.” A cold shiver runs down Tommy’s spine, the implication in his words sending a surge of worry and anger coursing through him.

Tommy’s fury boils over and he slams the man against the wall, his face mere inches from his own. “Just for saying that, I ain’t gonna make this quick.” He growls, spit spraying on his bloodied face.

Tommy indeed, doesn’t make it quick. He makes that man sing, a song he has come to know so well as he drains blood ever so slowly from those who deserve it. And this man deserves it, purely for hinting that someone would harm the child. He would have spent more time tormenting the man if he didn’t have places to be. So, when he becomes bored of the man’s song, he simply drags his knife into his neck and discards him to the floor just as he has done with his friends.

He sets off from his home shortly after packing the necessities; smoke bombs, nail bombs, molotov cocktails, his beloved rifle and anything that he knows will cause significant damage. If they think he won’t make them suffer for threatening his family, they’re very wrong. 

He arrives in the town just as the storm that had been brewing all day finally unleashes its fury, showering the town in an onslaught of snow and harsh winds. He pushes forward, squinting his eyes as the biting snowflakes sting his face.

He spots the infected lying motionless in front of the hardware store before he heads inside, sheltered from the weather. The floor is littered with more infected and he calls out for Joel, Myles and even the kid, hoping to hear a familiar voice over the howling winds outside. Instead, only the mournful sound of the storm answers his calls.

A door to a back room hangs eerily open, the sounds of dripping liquid calling out for him to look and he listens obediently. He steps into the room, his gaze falling upon a man, bound and hunched over in a chair. His blood slowly oozes out of him, dripping into the crimson pool below him. There’s also a window deeper into the room, where the body of an infected hangs, halfway through crawling into the room before it was shot.

Tommy steps up to the body and lifts his head, feeling the warmth that still lingers on his skin, though already starting to stiffen. He tilts his head, pondering for a moment, deciding he can’t be that far behind Joel.

A frown creases Tommy’s forehead as he carefully observes the wounds on the man. The cuts lack the precision he’s familiar with from Joel’s work. They’re a mix of clean and jagged edges, deep and shallow cuts scattered across his body. He recognizes the signs of hesitation and doubt that would have caused most of these cuts, a feeling he knows neither Joel nor Myles possess.

Some of these cuts don’t belong to either Joel nor Myles and he refuses to believe the feeling deep in his gut that he knows who they belong to. Refuses to believe that neither Myles or Joel would allow her to do something like this.

With a sigh, he lets go of the man’s head, allowing it to fall lifeless back into place. He steps out of the room and follows the trail of bodies that lead out to the back parking lot and hopefully closer to his brother and friends.

The trail leads to a warehouse, the walls charred and crumbling. He steps over threshold and the remains of what used to be the door frame. He swears under his breath as his eyes fall on the carnage. The air is tinged with a lingering stench of burning flesh and he prays he’s not smelling the death of his brother, Myles or the kid. A small fire, now reduced to a dim flicker, smolders among the rubble as snow begins to settle in the building from the hole in the roof. With a sense of unease, Tommy’s gaze falls upon the crumbled pillar where bodies of infected are burning, succumbed beneath the flames, its light almost extinguished.

Tommy cautiously steps further into the warehouse, treading carefully over the bodies that litter the floor. His eyes scan the carnage, searching for any sign that they made it out unscathed. A silent prayer falls on his lips, that he doesn’t find any familiar features amongst those fallen.

Startled by the sound of crumbling debris, Tommy spins, aiming his gun in the direction of the imposing sound. The sight of an arm protruding from the rubble grabs his attention. His heart sinks and bile rises at the sight of the distinctive broken khaki green watch strapped around the wrist.

Joel’s watch.

“No, no, no,” Tommy’s mutters the single word over and over, desperation in his voice. He races towards his brother, hands feverishly removing each piece of rubble, not caring about the cuts that form on his skin. The heavy rubble falls away, revealing Joel’s limp body and Tommy grunts under his weight as he pulls him free.

Tommy gently holds his brother’s face in his trembling hands, his own heart pounding in his chest as he waits for Joel to open his eyes. With bated breath, Tommy presses his ear against Joel’s chest, listening for any sign of life. After a long, anxious moment, he finally detects a faint yet steady rhythm.

He drags his brother out, gritting his teeth and cursing under his breath for being so god damn heavy as he hauls his heavy body through the snow into the next building. The bitter winds and snow make the task difficult but the determination fuels him, despite the strain on his muscles. 

He carefully lowers his brother onto the cold concrete floor, wincing when he lands with a thud. The sight of his battered and bloodied form sends a wave of worry over him, his eyes assessing the deep cuts and scrapes that seeps blood, but it’s the cut on his head that worries him the most.

Tommy does his best to mend his wounds with the limited supplies he has, stitching, cleaning and patching him up. He may be limited, but he’s saved his brother with even fewer resources. He hopes it’s enough.

His brother is a stubborn asshole, so he knows it will be enough. It must be.

Certain that he’s done everything he can to stabilize his brother and that he won’t die on him, he reluctantly leaves his brother’s side and ventures back into the warehouse. He searches through rubble and digs through piles of infected in search of either Myles or the kid, his mind tormented of the possibility of finding them among the mass of dead bodies.

Tommy’s initial relief turns to concern once he’s torn through the entire building, their bodies nowhere in sight. Only once he’s certain that they are not among the dead, does he return to his brother’s side.

Tommy remains by Joel’s side and in the early hours of the night his eyes finally flicker open. He struggles to focus on Tommy, his eyes glazed over and only staying awake for a few seconds before he slumps back into unconsciousness.

After a grueling three days of Joel slipping in and out of consciousness and Tommy searching the town for any signs of where they could have gone, Joel finally awakens. He grunts, a sound Tommy never thought he would miss.

With a pained, low grunt, Joel weakly swats Tommy’s hands away as his body protests the movement. His weak, strained voice struggles to speak and Tommy hands Joel his water. “The kid,” He huffs.

Despite Joel’s protests and grunts of pain, Tommy gently helps him sit up, supporting his weight until he’s finally upright. Tommy’s silence regarding his question earns him a glare.

“Where is she,” He demands.

“Don’t know.” Tommy sighs, taking the water from him after he takes a sip. Tommy takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he tells his brother about his efforts to find both Myles and his kid while he was unconscious, how he tried to track them down but the storm outside had drowned their tracks. How he didn’t want to venture too far in case Joel’s condition took a turn for the worse and he needed tending to.

Joel attempts to stand and Tommy helps lift him to his feet as his jaw clenches tightly. He shakes his head, frustration etched on his face. “How long have I been out?” He grits, words thick with pain and determination.

“Joel-” Tommy sighs as he steadies Joel on his feet.

“How long.” He demands once more, interrupting Tommy’s sigh.

Tommy watches as Joel begins to gather his belongings as he clutches to his side. Tommy is well aware that Joel shouldn't be moving, let alone picking things up, but he’s also aware of how stubborn his brother is.

“Three days.”

Joel freezes as he processes the information and Tommy can see the rage that begins to build in his brother. “You left her alone out there for three days?” Joel seethes.

“She’s got Myles, she’s not alone. I’m sure they’re just waiting at the halfway cabin or made their way back home.” Tommy attempts to reason with him but Joel shakes his head, dismissing him as usual.

“Should have left me,” Joel mutters bitterly, passing by Tommy with a cold determination etched on his face.

The room falls quiet once more as he storms off, just as it had been as Tommy sat beside him at night, too afraid to sleep in case his brother died. His blood still stains the floor as Tommy sighs, turning to follow his brother.

Click here for Chapter 16

Notes

The way I want to hug Tommy. I hope y’all liked the Tommy POV! I plan on doing a lot more in future chapters!

If you want to be tagged, please comment on the masterlist for this series and I will add you. If you want to be taken off, please DM so i don't miss your request.

Every comment, like and reblog means the world to me. please let me know your thoughts about this, i want to ramble about this story so much.

tags: @sunandmuun , @rain-soaked-sun, @frootloops1213 , @samarav , @geralallfandoms , @joelmillersblog , @severussimp , @kitdjarin1 , @yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @justanotherteen12 @lils-1979 @elisha-chloe , @faith-alons26

[koolades-world]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 2K

Can I request Satan and MC with 17 and 28?

Now for the sappy stuff:

It felt like it was just yesterday that I was binging "Just like Lilith," (yes, been here that long with notifs still on for you and everything) and now you've grown so much, and I just 😭. Please keep writing, I've seen your style change and improve, and I am so glad to be on this little journey watching my favourite author get the love they deserve.

awwww thank you!! it means a lot to me that you stuck with me through my extended unintentional break haha. i for sure thought i'd basically have to start from scratch again after that. i also think i freaked out a little when i saw the words my favorite author. words can hardly describe how i feel. like me?? me is someone favorite author? sending you all the love in the world anon 🫶 so glad you've joined me on this train that is my writing haha

enjoy <33

prompts 17 and 28 w/ Satan

Satan loved a lot of things. Perfectly warm tea, chunky cats, late nights of reading followed by lazy mornings, the smell of old books, but most importantly, you. He wished he could spend everyday with you by his side. Which was the reason he agreed to go on the stupid family camping trip in the first place. You were his sweetheart, so of course he couldn’t deny the puppy dog eyes and pleading when the trip was proposed on the first place.

He didn't inherently hate camping. He preferred glamping, but camping wasn't the worst thing in the world. Being far away from other demons and in the solitude of nature was preferable, minus the fact that he could only have a select few books. What really bothered him was the fact that it was a family trip. He'd be trapped in the middle of nowhere with the six demons that annoyed him the most. He tried to look at it from the bright side though, as you would tell him. He'd be there with you to, after all.

The spot Beel and Lucifer had picked was remote, beautiful and mountainous, but the trip there wasn't too long. Somehow, there were only seven tents, and a brawl almost started over who'd get to share a tent with Mc. Satan was in the center, but while they were at each others throats, Mc had set up one of the tents on their own and laid stakes to it. Beel and Belphie ended up sharing a tent. Honestly, it was a power move on your end and only made him love you more.

You lounged in the center of camp on a blanket on your back while everyone else set up tents. Belphie wasn't helping, of course, and was basically right on top of you. That was the beginning of the end for Satan. You chatted with everyone swirling around you as they worked, and it wasn't too irritating until Mammon and Levi got into another argument. Then, Lucifer insisted they 'act more like a family' and have together time, which meant they needed a campfire. Nobody else made the move to make it, so when he stepped up to the plate, you were kind enough to join him. The two of you were able to talk while you worked, gathering firewood, which he thought would be enough to calm him down. Soon, the two of you got the fire lit with magic, and you went off one more time to gather more tinder. Upon returning back, while unsure what you'd returned to, you were just in time to watch Beel throw water onto the fire, putting it out. That was his last straw.

Satan threw down the kindling he'd gathered and stormed off in the direction he'd just come from. "Satan! Wait, please come back." You turned and tried to run after him, but he was gone quickly. The other six brothers watched silently. After seeing that they were not going to follow him, and planned to resume as normal, you shook your head. "You guys are awful to each other. Don't follow me, I can protect myself." You too went off in the forest, only after anticipating that the brothers would try to follow you, not their brother.

You weren't exactly sure which way he'd gone, but you could feel his anger somehow. Maybe it was the pact, or maybe it was your magic. Either way, it helped you follow him higher and higher into the mountains. The trees thinned out, and eventually, you saw him sitting in the middle of a small clearing near the edge of a cliff. He turned slightly to see who'd followed him, and turned back around after seeing it was you. "Glad I found you." You sat next to him.

"What do you want?" His words were sharp.

"I just came to keep you company." You leaned over to take his hand. He jumped a little, but gripped it back. You laced your fingers with his.

"I'm fine. Nothing is wrong." He didn't look at you, but you could still see the ever-shifting expression on his face.

"You know just as well as I do that that's not the truth," you told him.

"I'm telling the truth, Mc." He tried to refute what you'd said.

"You're a terrible liar." You could almost laugh at his false insistence.

"What if I was upset? What would you do?" Instead of responding to you, he presented you with a 'hypothetical' question.

"Well, I'd tell you I was here for you, and that I understand how much your brothers can be. We can just stay here, if you'd like. Hypothetically, of course." You couldn't help but laugh a little over the way the two of you were communicating.

"I would tell you that sounds great, but that I have a better spot in mind for relaxing." He got up, seeming calmer than he had been before. You could still tell he needed a little more time, but you knew just spending time with him would help.

"Lead the way, Satan." The two of you began a short walk through the forest again. With him holding your hand, it was much easier to feel safer in the rather unfamiliar forest. You could protect the both of you, no doubt, but it was comforting nonetheless with him by your side. The walk was peaceful, and filled with comfortable silence. You eventually reached a river. While it wasn't particularly fast looking, peering into the water showed that it was deep. For a while, the two of you sat beside the water, talking minimally. The two of you enjoyed each others company, and the scenery.

"Ready to go back?" Satan stood up. You were surprised that he had been the one to ask that. You weren't sure what time it was, but you at least thought you'd be out there for another hour or so. You knew him and how long it took him to decompress sometimes.

"Yes. I'm getting a little tired." With a yawn, you got to your feet with the help of Satan's extended hand. You must've not been as steady with your footing as your though, because as soon as he let go of your hand, you promptly stepped on a loose rock and took a tumble into the water.

The water was cold, and you were only fully submerged briefly, but in that short time, Satan had jumped in after you. He was quick to swim after you, and grab ahold of you so you wouldn't get separated by the flowing water. "Are you alright?" He grabs onto a nearby rock to stop the two of you from getting pulled further.

"Just surprised is all. You came in after me." You pushed his wet hair out of his face so he could actually see you.

"Of course I did." He stated that as if it was obvious.

"I'm flattered, but I would've been alright. You didn't have to get soaked too just for that." You mentally sighed when you thought about how long it would take you to dry off. At least now, you'd have each other for company while you dried.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Please don't go anywhere I can't follow," he said. You laughed a little at first at his words, a little confused.

"What do you mean? You jumped in after me." You put your hands on his shoulders to better keep yourself from getting swept away, since you could feel the subtly drag of the river.

"Not in just a physical sense. What if you were hurt? I can't lose you, especially not over something I could prevent." He sounded very solemn. His response wasn't something you anticipated, and it took you a second to process.

"I care a lot about you too. Thank you, for everything." There was so much more you wanted to say, but struggled to find the words for. So, instead, you hugged him as best as you could.

"It's the least I could do for the human who changed my life." Satan reciprocated as best as he could with the one arm that was already around you.

"Let's get out of the water before we catch a cold. If we're lucky, your brothers will be asleep and we'll have the fire to ourselves." You could already picture the lovely time the two of you would have by the campfire together. By the look on his face, you could tell he was thinking something similar.

"Hang tight then." Satan smiled at you. It was the most beautiful smile you'd ever seen. It communicated everything he felt, even the words unspoken. If you weren't sure of your feelings before, you were now. The avatar of wrath, your sweetheart.