#i refuse to believe he took if for any reasons other than he can use that power to steal ownership of the hanged man

[tallyica]

Uh Dave x reader. Dave wants reader but unfortunately reader is already dating (any member from Metallica) so when reader broke up with (Metallica member) for some reason, he started talking to reader and eventually ended up together. reader is way happier with Dave.

(Kinda basic but I know you’ll make it great 😍)

hihi!!

omg I'm actually posting a very long fic after threatening to quit writing..

also ily Kay this is a good req I LOVE James and Dave dynamic stuff (anything having to do with revenge or jealousy, if youre a writer PLS write some and tag me..) so i loved this req

anywayssss

word count: 4,515 (I think my longest one to date)

warnings: angst, break up, cheating, drinking, fluff, mention of drugs (once), kinda corny, rushed but slow at the same time, way too similar to that one mustainegf fic

A CHANGE, FOR THE BETTER. (1987-1990)

Once again the apartment was cold and empty. It wasn't actually empty; it was filled by James and me. We were on opposite sides of the couch, avoiding each other. IT had been like this for months. We hadn't hugged, kissed, held hands, gone out, anything that normal couples do. He was quiet, which differed from how he was with his friends, including me. Though, this hadn't been different for a while. I've almost gotten used to it, but not emotionally. No matter how hard I try, he seems like he isn't there. The more I thought about it, the more it settled in, the more it hurt. The more I felt I needed to talk about it.

I finally broke the painful and dead silence between us, “What up with you, You've been weird with me for months?” I asked, finally turning my head to face him. He wasn't looking at me, or anything. He was hunched over, his blonde locks blocking the view of his face as he stared at the floor.

James let out a huff in response, shrugging.

This was going to be a long, and very difficult conversation.

James would get like this when there was something on his mind. Something big, but normally it would spill over before this point, he normally would just be like this for a week or two before confessing whatever was hurting him, and I would hold him and comfort him as he cried.

I sighed, moving closer to him, and placing my hand on his back, but he retracted from my touch, something I had gotten used to.

“James, talk to me, please..?” I asked softly, though I was willing to beg to have what we had back.

He just shook his head, adjusting slightly and sitting back, letting me see his stressed and confused expression. “What's bothering you? Tell me, I know that something is wrong..” I tried again, my eyes on his, but his were on the black TV screen.

I tried to move closer to him, my hand on his knee as I tried to get him to even look in my general direction, “James, look at me,” I asked more than commanded.

His eyes wandered in my direction, but landing on the couch cushions under me. It was a start at least. “Can you just say something, please?” I asked again, keeping my tone gentle.

He took a deep, long sigh, mumbling something I couldn't hear, couldn't understand.

Or maybe I did, but I didn't want to.

“What?” I asked, refusing to believe any of this was real as tears stung my eyes.

James just repeated himself, the words falling from his lips like shards of glass.

I shook my head, standing from the couch as the tears began to fall down my face. Knowing of the other woman, I was broken. I was pacing, and he didn't even look at me.

“Are you serious?! Why?! Was I not good enough for you?! We could've talked, we could've worked things out!” I cried, my stomach twisting in a tight and sorrowful knot.

He didn't look like he had any emotions on his face, but I could sense and feel the guilt and pain that clouded him. Every word he spoke only brought more tears to my eyes, each one punctuated with a sharp and sad pain I felt in my heart, eyes, mind, everywhere.

I was trembling as I shook my head, for some reason I refused to believe any of this, or that this was real. I began to waddle towards the kitchen counter, filled with hurt and rage, grabbing my car keys and purse.

“Where are you going?” James asked, his own voice shaky with guilt and regret.

“Away.” I answered harshly, beginning to walk back to the door.

“Please, we can fix this, just.. Just stay with me, ok?” James begged almost, though he wouldnt even stand up to face me, eyeing muy figure from the comfort of the couch. One that held many memories of us.

I shook my head, “No, no, I.. I need to go..” I mumbled, reaching for the door handle and leaving hearing James call out for me as I shut the door, stumbling to my car, getting in and beginning to drive fast and far, no clue where I was headed. It was late at night, probably past ten pm. Tears strung down my face, puddling on the shirt I was wearing, which I realized was James’ shirt. That didn't help, making me sob harder as the faint and musty smell of beer and smoke fumed from his shirt, reminding me of him too much.

After twenty minutes or so of driving, I came past a run down hotel, hearing the soft pitter patter of rain hit the roof of my car, the clouds matching my eyes. I parked, scurrying into the lobby, an older and tired woman at the front desk, noticing the clear sadness that radiated off me.

We had a brief interaction, paying for my room before wandering up to the beat door, the well cleaned room before me.

I stepped in, shutting the door behind me before falling onto the bed, everything hitting me as I began to break down and cry. The man I had once cherished, loved, my everything and world was gone, no longer who I knew. No matter how guilty he felt or regretted it, or how drunk he was, he still did it. It hurt, and it hurt horribly. Someone I poured every ounce of my love and my being into threw me out for some shitty drunken fling with some random slut.

It wasn't long before I cried myself asleep, awaking with a harsh headache, trying to put back together everything that had happened. The words rang in my ears, twisting in me like a punch to the stomach. Instead of sadness, it was just anger and hurt. Tears couldn't come to my eyes, just a cruel, upset feeling I couldn't name.

I laid on that bed for a few hours, the soft hum of electricity filling my ears as I got lost in thought. I had woken up at three pm, and it was now six. I had to get out, do something, talk with someone. Why not go to a bar, get a drink, take the edge off and maybe talk to someone to distract myself.

I went into the bathroom, wiping the black streaks of mascara and other smudged makeup off my face, fixing my hair as much as I could without a brush or any products before checking out and walking back down to my car.

I just drove around, going a bit further out of town on the off chance I may run into James.

Then I saw it, the dark building with a pink neon sign on the outside, not looking too busy on the inside but still a good amount of people. 

I felt I had been here before. Maybe a few years back, maybe a few nights ago.. I wasn't sure, but there was a comforting familiarity as I walked in.

I ordered a drink, sitting at the bar as I picked at my nails, watching the football game on the TV. Not that I cared much for sports, but it was a start for a distraction.

I sat in there for maybe several minutes before my drink was ready, the bartender handing it to me as I began to sip on the bitter liquid, sighing softly as I tried to relax.

I felt a tap on my back, confused and surprised, I turned around.

Then I saw him.

Dave Mustaine, a man I hadn't seen in person for about four years. He was on the rise of the metal world, finally earning his own independent name. Our eyes met, and we instantly recognized each other.

Dave smiled, chuckling to himself, “Where the hell have you been?!” He asked happily, and I forced a smile back.

“I haven't gone anywhere, still been here. Where the hell have you been?” I asked back, hoping this conversation could take me away from this ruin I have been placed in.

He shrugged, “About, just becoming the next big face in the metal scene..” He answered back in a cocky way, as usual.

Seeing him in this bar, made all those old memories flood back. This is where I first met Dave, finally realizing why this place seemed so familiar. James and I had been friends about a year before he formed Metallica, and I remember him asking me to come to this bar with him to go meet his bandmates. I met Lars, Ron, and of course, Dave. 

Dave was still fiery as ever, never changing from his previous self. 

We began to talk, catching up on the years of missed time together, the once strong bond we had slowly reforming.

I remembered the first time I came to one of the band's practices. It was at James’ garage, and Ron and Lars had already left. It was just the three of us, but James was in the house. Dave and I chatted for what felt like hours, and quickly became close and good friends. We had a lot in common, so we got along well.

Then, Dave asked me a question, snapping me out of my thoughts of the past.

“So, how’s things with James? You guys still a couple?” Dave asked, clearly not meaning anything negative, but I felt it.

The question made my stomach twist in a knot, reminding me of the bitter end I had with James last night. I glanced to the floor, my expression shifting from positive to anxious in a way.

Dave quickly took notice of my change in demeanor, his expression softening, “Did.. did something happen? What’s up?” He asked, clearly worried.

I sighed, shrugging. Should I tell him this? Ruin our night together? Force him to feel guilty?

But I didn't want to lie to him either, it would be easier to just rip off the bandaid and move on.

“Uhm, we kinda broke up last night..” I mumbled, staring down at our shoes.

Dave's face was struck with realization, nodding slowly with a solemn expression, “Oh shit, sorry to hear. What happened?” Of course he had to dig deeper. And again, who am I to deny him the truth? He wasn't really one to judge.

“Well.. things had just been rough the last few months.. And then he told me that.. He cheated on me..” I answered with a sigh, feeling a slight weight taken off my shoulders as I acknowledged it, but a fifty pound boulder crashing down on my heart.

Dave looked upset, frustrated even. “I told you that fucker was never any good,” Dave reminded me, which brought me back to the night when James had asked me out.

It was the night of the first Metallica show I got to go to, not having work or anything, and I had to be a supportive best friend. After the show, I went backstage, waiting for the band, when James had ran towards me, grabbing my hands and pulling me into his dressing room, very rushedly confessing to me, which had me smiling wide, as I had felt the same from when we first met, but he had as girlfriend at the time.

It was just us, sharing another happy moment together. No one had known that we were official, but I'm sure someone caught onto his crushing, or mine.

It wasn't just that someone caught on, Dave knew. I told him after a few too many drinks, but of course he remembered that one thing.

After we had come out of that dressing room, I went to go talk with Dave, to tell him that everything seemed to be going perfectly for me at that moment, but then he spoke before I could.

“I don't think you should be around James too much man, he enjoys the life on the road a bit too much, if you get what I mean,”.

It was one of the last things he said to me before he got kicked from the band. After I told him we were dating, we drifted apart, and then he was kicked out.

I hadn't thought of those words until tonight. And it only proved that Dave was right. James did enjoy the drinking, groupies, drugs, all of it. It was only a while until I found out, which I did.

I was snapped back to the present hearing the loud whoops and clapping of other patrons of the bar, who were watching the football game on the TV. I nodded in response to Dave's statement, “I know, you warned me the minute after I started dating him.. Guess you were right..” I admitted, and Dave nodded back.

“It pisses me off, y’know?” He began, “You're too good for that shit, especially from a jerk like him.” Dave added.

I just nodded again, and he kept talking. “I guess he just can never see what he had, always wants ‘better’ but he already has what's best. I mean, he threw me out for that Kirk guy, he's no nowhere as good as me! And I’m sure whoever he slept with is just some whore,” He concluded, and I just nodded again.

“You're right… as always, it seems,” I answered back to him, before my thoughts drowned out the world around me once more.

Dave probably understood this better than anyone, at1 least when it comes to being mistreated and betrayed by James. Someone who he considered a brother, a close friend, kicked him to the curb for someone else. And in similar was me. Someone I considered a lover, and closest friend I had, traded me in for another.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Dave asked, calming after his rant.

“No, not really.. I'm staying at a motel a few miles away,” I answered back, and he thought for a moment before speaking again.

“If you want, you could come stay at my place, I wouldn't mind the extra company, it gets pretty lonely there anyways,” He offered, and my eyes lit up, a small hope in my heart.

“Yeah, that'd be great, thanks,” I said with a small smile, a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“We could leave the bar now and get you set up, it's a one bedroom, I don't mind taking the couch until you've figured something out,” Dave suggested.

I quickly shook my head, “No, don't take the couch, it's your place, I'm the guest! I'll take the couch,” I rebutted.

Dave just nodded, “Exactly, you're the guest, you get the best treatment. Plus, it won't be forever, I'll be fine for a few nights.” Dave still noticed hesitation in my eyes, “I insist.” He added.

I sighed, “Fine, if you insist. But don't hesitate asking me to take the couch once in a while, alright?”

Dave just smiled, “Sure.”

After that, we got in our cars and I followed him to his place, a decent apartment complex in the outskirts of town. We parked and he led me to his door, unlocking it and allowing us in.

“Make yourself at home,” He said, setting down his keys and walking towards the bedroom, and I followed him.

“Hope you don't mind the mess, but it'll do.” My nose was overwhelmed with the strong smell of cigarette smoke and liquor, something he had never been able to get rid of even after not seeing him for four years.

It reminded me of James, which made me feel solemn once more. “Thanks, it's fine, I don't mind, you're already offering me all of this,” I added, sitting down on his unmade bed, which he joined me on.

“You alright? You still seem upset,” He questioned, and I could feel tears pricking at my eyes once more.

“Yeah, I'm fine..” I forced out, my voice choked as I wiped the stray tear from my cheek, avoiding eye contact with him.

Dave noticed, tilting his head slightly as his concern grew, “Hey, look at me, you can talk to me, y’know?”

And just like that, I crumbled. Tears filled my eyes, and they spilled right over as I broke out into sobs, and he just wrapped his arms around me, holding me as iI leaned closer to him, soaking his worn and faded shirt with my tears as he gently comforted me and shushed my cries, wiping my tears with his thumbs when he could.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just him holding me and caring for me, but in a way James never could, never did. James was sweet when he wanted to be, but he never held me like this and heard my cries and answered them with comfort.

After a while, I had cried myself to sleep, my cries lessening and silencing as my breathing began to even out, and Dave laid me down gently and got me into bed, wrapping the blankets around me before he headed out for the couch.

That was the night where it began, the rekindling of our once close friendship. Even though we had agreed that this wouldn't be permanent, we had now been living together for a few months, and it felt like we had never been separated, as if we had been friends for the last seven years.

Today, we were planning to go back to that bar, the first time since that night we bumped into each other. We both needed to get out, and Dave was beat and stressed over all the touring with Megadeth, and we could both use a drink.

Dave had been out for a bit today, and I was busy getting ready for tonight since he would be home within the hour. It wasn't a fancy occasion, and I was definitely over-dressing, but I hadn't had any reason to look pretty in forever, getting to wear my favorite black dress, once that complimented my figure and hugged my curves, flowing down to a bit above my knees.

I did my makeup, nothing too glam but noticeable, and for the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful. Even when I thought I had previously when I was with James, he never showed an appreciation or complimented me often.

I shook the thoughts of James out of my head, knowing I had to move on, even though much of myself was still left in that past of what we once were.

I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard Dave open the door, entering the apartment with a sigh. “Im back,” He called out as I finished clipping on my earrings, walking out to Dave.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” I asked him, seeing his face slightly surprised as he took in my figure.

“Yeah, totally.. You, you look great, by the way..” He answered, still taking in my appearance.

I smiled widely, “Thanks! Let's go then, yeah?”

Dave nodded and we headed out to his car, driving back to that bar, per his choice. The drive was filled with conversation and laughter, as we found that there was rarely a moment of silence between us. His hand rested lightly on my knee, and I didn't think much of it, just a sweet and friendly gesture.

When we arrived at the bar, he offered me a hand and helped me out of the car, walking me in the dim lighted and busy establishment as we searched for somewhere to sit, finding an empty table in the corner, quickly scurrying over there before someone else could snag the spot. 

It was a large table, one meant to seat probably around six people as it was a booth. The leather of the seats were well worn, torn in some places. The table matched, scratched up and old, though it held many memories. 

Dave got up to go order us some drinks, returning soon after and sitting down in front of me. We began to talk, but there was something different, and what I hated most about it is that I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't anything negative, but everything felt heavier, like I could feel my heart pounding in my chest for a reason I didn't know.

Dave acted off too, like something was bothering him. He was fidgety, his eyes avoiding mine but at the same holding long term eye contact. What was going on with him?

I tried to not think about it as I was probably over analyzing the whole situation. I took a sip of my drink, and for once, there was a lasting silence between us.

I didn't know what to say. The bar wasn't my idea, it was something Dave had planned on a few days ago, and he seemed excited at the time. “Everything ok? You just seem all.. Jittery.” I commented, snapping Dave out of whatever haze of thoughts he was in.

“Yeah, totally,” He muttered, which only grew my curiosity, and sparked a new worry.

Was he on drugs? Well, I knew he was, but was he on too much?

“You're not… on anything right now?” I mumbled out in a question and he shook his head.

“No no, it's not that, I swear.” Dave reassured me, and I had to take his word for it.

Dave tapped his fingers on the table a few times as he thought before speaking up.

“You uh, you remember anything in specific about this place?” Dave asked me out of the blue.

“Uhm,” I paused to think, “Yeah, isn't this where you picked me up a few months ago?”

“Well, yeah, but anything else? Think as far back as you can,” Dave instructed me, and I tried to think.

Until it hit me.

“Oh! Yeah! Isn't this where James took me to meet the rest of the band? We even sat at this booth, right?” I finally remembered, and the memories flooded back as clear as day.

Dave hasn't changed much since then, but I do remember how he was when we very first interacted. He was crazy and animalistic, yeah, but he seemed shy around me, until he had a few beers, and then he was way less tense and boxed up. That was the beginning of our friendship.

“Yeah, I think about that a lot,” Dave informed me, and I nodded.

Dave still seemed off, like he was hiding something from me.

“Dave, what's on your mind? Like actually, something is clearly bothering you,” I was growing impatient with his vague answers, I wanted to know the truth.

Dave sighed, thinking for a moment before speaking, “Well, you remember that night, tha=e first Metallica concert you attended, when I warned you about James, even though you two were already together,” and I nodded.

“Well, when he told you in that dressing room, I overheard it all. I was uhm.. Looking for you too. I got pissed that James had got to say something before I did, and uhm.. I had like.. The fattest crush on you when we first met.. And now that we've grown close again, I think I feel the same wa-” Dave was cut off as I kissed him on the lips, all of our unspoken feelings coming out for each other.

After I pulled away I moved some of his long ginger hair out of his face, gently caressing his cheek as I smiled softly at him.

“I've felt the same since we met too.”

Another influential night, all in this bar. The three times I've come here, three big things happen, always having to do with Dave.

That night was about three years ago now, and Dave and I have been together happily for those three years, now engaged and happier than ever. With the success of MEgadeth's latest album, ‘Rust in peace’, things have been going great for us. He showed me what real love felt like, to be cared for and cherished, all without getting judged.

I had gone to multiple shows with Dave at this point, and this was just another one. They were one of the headliners for a weekend-long festival, and I was more than thrilled to support my fiance.

I listened to loud chords of ‘Holy wars’ as the band began to finish their set, with me sitting backstage. I was at a table, my left hand that wore my gorgeous engagement ring was digging in my purse, until I heard familiar steps behind me.

And then a voice.

“Are you..” I cut them off.

“James? What are you-” I was now in turn cut off by him.

“I'm playing a show. What are you doing here?” The frontman asked me. I was so shocked to have seen him, personally, that is. I knew Metallica would be having a show here, but it wasn't until the next night.

As if the timing was perfect, after James questioned me, Megadeth had come off stage, Dave rushing towards me. “Hey baby, did you like the show?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

“Yeah, it was great..” I answered, still dumbfounded. James looked even more dumbfounded than I did.

Dave looked up, curious at the silence, “What's wro-” He cut himself off, his eyes meeting James.

Daves lips curled into a smirk, knowing now he has the best form of revenge for kicking him out all those years ago. That revenge was me.

“Nice seeing you, James. What's going on with you and my fiance?” Dave bit back a cruel snicker, watching as James just grew more and more confused.

“Oh.. I was just, uhm, saying hi,” James answered, trying to process everything.

I was avoiding James' eyes. How would I explain that after I broke up with him, I met up with his ex bandmate, moved in with him after remeeting, dated after a few months, and engaged after three years.

“Uh-huh… You guys know each other, yeah?” Dave teased, knowing the answer, just wanting to get a rise out of James.

James didn't want to give Dave anymore attention, just nodding.

“Gotta thank you a bit man, I doubt we would have ran into each other again if it wasn't for you being a prick like always,” Dave said bitterly, enjoying this game of shame on James.

James looked slightly guilty, just trying to ignore him.

Dave looked back to me, “Well, I need to go clean up a bit, you can find me if someones bothering ya, sweetheart,” he said to me sweetly, my eyes meeting his before he kissed my cheek and walked away.

James just stared at me for a moment before walking off in another direction, the rest of Metallica showing up finally, Lars leading the three of them, his eyes landing on me.

This was  going to be a long, long weekend.

[sluttyquarantinetheory]

Varrick becoming Viscount is such a thing. Like job sucks so much ends so badly that the only person left to take the job is a local author and low level mob boss who only wants to own the local dive bar.

[imwetforyourmom]

not her

pt2

warnings: swearing, jealousy, crying, comparison, not proofread

a/n: yall seem like super excited about this series and im all for it tf

a/n 2: if ts is lowk sad, thats my fault, it was an accident I was listening to partially sad music and rlly got into it

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~~ NEXT CHAPTER

~

over the past few days, matt and amelias friendship had gotten closer, while y/n and matts was no less than just the title of ‘dating’. they didnt hang out, they didnt talk much and they didnt go on dates. but when y/n did ask matt to do anything, it was always ‘cant. im with amelia’ or ‘cant. ill be with amelia then’. it was always amelia this, amelia that. but never ‘sure baby! i totally want to hangout with my girlfriend’

y/n was fucking over it. she wanted to talk with matt about this all. she wasnt fucking gonna deal with het own boyfriend not acting like her boyfriend.

so, thats where she found herself, standing behind matt where he sat with amelia next to him. it was very obvious was she was being more than friendly to him, her hand was caressing his arm and her eyes were staring deeply into his. y/n bit her lip, fighting back the urge to bitch slap amelia.

y/n ran her hands through matts hair, annoucing her presence. matt flinched at the sudden touch, whipping his head around to look at who had just touched his hair. his eyes softening and a small smile creeping onto his lips when he saw who it was.

“matt? can we talk please?” y/n asked, her eyes studying matts features, god how she missed being this close to him, to be able to admire him.

matt turned his head to look at amelia, before looking back at y/n, “im talking with amelia, maybe later?” he asked. remorse present in his voice.

y/n moved her hand away from him and took a step back from them, refusing to look at amelia, as her eyes glossed over and a lump in her throat grew. breathing grew harder and she knew talking wouldnt be any easier.

“y- yeah. thats fine.” she mumbled, her voice breaking, she took a breath in. and began walking away, but not before saying a quick “I love you” to him out of instinct. she took slower steps away, expecting one back, she wanted to hear him say he loved her too.

but when she didnt hear one back and only heard him resume talking to amelia, her eyes immediately lost all control over the tears in her eyes, the hot tears running down her cheeks faster than she could comprehend. she held her breath, trying to make no sound obvious to the sobs she wanted to let out. but she couldnt let matt know how upset she was about this, and she certainly didnt want amelia feeling the satisfaction of making her cry.

y/n moved quickly, leaving the library where that entire interaction went down and pushed past the doors of the school, walking quick to her car.

she opened the door and sat inside, closing it the door and immediately breaking down, her sobs being loud, her tears being fast as they poured down her cheeks and her breathing incredibly hard.

she couldnt fucking believe it, her own boyfriend chose some other girl over her.

the boy she used to kiss goodnight and sleep in his arms every weekend, the boy she used to be able to come to and expect not to be lonely, the boy she knew she could come to when she was upset or when she just wanted company. but now she wasnt sure if she could, matt only wanted to be with amelia and not y/n.

does he understand how much he meant means to y/n? hes the reason shes not lonely, he was the reason she was able to fall asleep so peacefully at night, he was the reason she was happy everyday, so content with life and now she couldnt have that anymore because of that stupid fucking girl. stupid fucking bitch named amelia.

she took him away from her and she didnt know what to do. its obvious matt wasnt interested in y/n and was only interested in amelia and what she wanted to say or do, not the girl he dedicated his life to, not the girl he told ‘im yours’, not the girl he used to say ‘I love you’ to every time he possibly could.

y/n just wasnt her, not amelia, not what matt wanted, she didnt have beautiful green eyes like amelia did, she didnt have that lovely orange color of hair amelia did, she didnt have naturally beautiful freckles covering her skin like amelia did. amelia was her, and y/n wasnt.

y/n only cried harder, pulling her knees to her chest and hiding her face in her knees, sobs escaping her throat. being so gutural, it scratched her throat with each sound leaving her lips. but that didnt compare with the aching pain she felt in her chest, the lump in her throat being so big she could barely breathe.

what matt had dismissed earlier so easily wasnt so easy to handle with for y/n. all she wanted was matt to be her boyfriend and act like it.

she wanted to dial his number and call him, but she couldnt run to him like she always did. he wasnt going to be there for her like he always was, but he was going to be there for amelia.

a pit in her stomach formed with the overgrowing urge to run to matt, her body so familar with always going to matt, being so familar with his hands rubbing her back as sweet words left his lips, his voice lulling her to the warm hug of being okay. but she couldnt have him, she couldnt have the same comforting feeling he brought her.

she wanted him, she needed him but he wasnt within her arms reach anymore and she felt sick. sick with words she wanted to tell him. sick with the need of feeling matts touch. sick to her stomach with just wanting matt in her prescense, he wouldnt even have to do anything. she just wanted him with her with the gentle reminder he wanted her too and in the same room, but instead he was talking with another girl, giving his attention to another girl.

‘another girl, another girl’ was all y/n heard, her thoughts screaming into her ears.

1107 words.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @sleepysturnss @xbabyd0lli3x @norr1ssturni0lo @nayveetbhh @jamiesturniolo

[furiousgoldfish]

I didn't see this right away, but my parents refusing to teach me anything really got to me, and not only in the way of lacking survival skills. I was being told things like 'how old are you not to know this' and 'you should know this by now' constantly, but nobody ever took the time or patience to explain or demonstrate to me how anything works. I had school education, so I was able to absorb information, but that was still, me being one of the 20+ children sitting down, with one adult who spent more time trying to keep us disciplined and quiet, than managing to explain anything. If I didn't get anything, I was too afraid to ask. I was being told I was stupid on a daily basis anyway.

My parents insisted that I was too stupid to get anything, too clumsy and ignorant and incapable, so it wasn't worth trying to teach me anything, it was a waste of energy. I was supposed to absorb knowledge by looking at what they're doing, but they would often give me other tasks to do, I wasn't free to observe. I believed that I was specifically dumb and incapable, and this was the only reason why I didn't have any skills. I actually believed that I was clumsy, stupid, incapable of doing anything correctly. I didn't think I was worth teaching, worth mentoring.

There was one time I was in my friend's house, and there was a guitar. I touched it, fascinated, since I've never had the chance to touch one before. My friend's father saw my interest, and offered to show me how to play. I was flabbergasted. He showed me how to hold it, how to press my fingers on the strings to create different chords, how to make sound happen. It took maybe 20 minutes. But it was the first time an adult showed me how something worked, and I felt.. unworthy. I didn't understand how could I deserve so much of someone's time and patience, because it had never happened before. I couldn't retain the knowledge, because that was the last time I ever touched a guitar, I never got the chance again. I still feel indebted for that 20 minutes, it feels like too much spent on me.

I thought back to those moments a lot, thinking about how special I felt for an adult to believe that I was worth teaching. If someone gave me a guitar now, I'd be ecstatic to try and learn it, because I remember that someone thought I could, someone showed me how. All of the other skills, I had to learn while already thinking I would fail, that I couldn't do it, and had to deal with extensive negative mindset before even trying to start. There is no skill that one can do perfectly on the first time, we all start by being awful, and then slowly get better with practice. But, with the 'I fail at everything and even if I try it will go bad' mindset, the awful start feels like a confirmation that we cannot do this, that we're too incapable, or stupid, or lacking in talent. Since all my work was heavily criticized no matter how well I've done, I had to go back and figure out what things I actually do okay, and criticism was unwarranted, and where I've actually been lacking in knowledge. And that is a complicated thing to do, when all of the criticism feels so painful, and even trying to do something makes you hear the words of ridicule, degradation and berating in your head. It makes you want to go the route of perfectionism, to try and do things so well they would be above criticism in general, but that's impossible. Criticism we receive in abuse is not actual criticism, it's often directed at us only to hurt our feelings, to discourage us, mock us, make us feel inadequate, sometimes even out of jealousy or because our capabilities present a threat, so they need to run that down. But how would we know? If all feedback is negative, it's impossible for us to sort trough what is a confirmation of being awful, and what is a jealous remark created to sabotage our good work.

Sometimes it feels bad learning everything on my own. Finding online tutorials and youtube videos for every skill imaginable, sifting trough forums to find information on finances and economy, trying to put together how society works by analyzing how people live and not daring to ask them to explain how they got where they are now. I had no guidance, and sometimes things would be too complicated, and I would give up. I often wish I could ask someone to explain it to me, instead of typing questions into google. The information is stored differently when it comes from a human, it creates warmth and the knowledge that someone cared enough to explain it to me, that I didn't have to put it together from various sources myself.

Learning basic survival and life skills was unnecessarily painful for me. I still have things I cannot do, just because of how much pain is associated with them. But to think everything could have been as simple as that guitar! If every time I showed interest in something, an adult who knew how it worked sat down next to me, demonstrated it, gave it to me to hold, put my hands in the right places, and directed me to what I should do. Would I ever have trouble believing in myself? It wouldn't have crossed my mind that there's anything I can't do. Or that I would fundamentally be bad at anything, just because I'm bad at it on the first attempt. When you're a kid, you don't even know if you're doing good or bad, if your first attempt gets a 'good job!', you're incentivized to do it again, until you do get good at it. That's why we encourage children, not to lie to them, but because we know how painful it is to be told off on your first try, and that it will make the second try unlikely.

Today I understand that all skills are gained trough practice, and that I can pick and choose what skills I want, and I can get them with enough practice. I can and do give up on some that are too frustrating, and that's okay too, we are all more inclined towards some activities, while others feel bad even with improvement.

As a kid I was enveloped by fear of not being able to do anything, not being useful enough to be kept alive, never being good at anything, not finding any kind of place in the world, just because I can't do anything right. All of that fear was necessary, there's tons of stuff that anyone can do, with some more complicated stuff that one needs to be specialized in, but it's not necessary for survival, or even for earning a place in society. We all have a place, by birthright, and just having skills is not as important as with what purpose you're using them for. You can be extremely skilled and using those skills to exploit, destroy and do damage to society, or even to isolate some members of society who you can then hurt. Or you can have very few skills but be insistent on using what you do only to help those around you be safe and sound.

[justalittleficsideblog]

Your fics of the obey me boys protecting mc from a creep are so amazing!!

If it's okay, could you write a similar one for Barb and Sol please?<3

anon I see you’ve been sitting in my inbox for a millennia, but I feel like I’ve finally now can write this fic! Barbatos in my mind is a bit unhinged, so like TW for those undertones! This went on longer than I intended, I hope you enjoy !

Barbatos

I could see this happening in the later hours of a ball that his king decided to host, caught unawares with a human he decided to invite had inevitably gotten lost in his crowd.

Considering that your usual guard dogs were preoccupied with their official business, Barbatos took it upon himself to keep a keen eye on you as you made your introductions.

Some of the demons lingered longer than necessary, but the majority quickly moved on due to the presence of the brothers all together somewhere in the room. Despite that, one particular demon cozied up to you a bit more than he found himself caring for.

“That’s very flattering thank you, but I think I’ve had plenty this evening,” you waved your hand towards the demon, gesturing politely in refusal of his offer to a drink.

You weren’t stupid, taking drinks from strangers in the human world was hardly safe, the devildom was no exception.

The demons mouth curved down slightly on the side, but he quickly recovered as he sauntered closer to you. Your back now against the pillar, your eyes scanned the crowd for an escape.

“Those brothers must be boring such a thing like you.” An elongated finger dragged lazily along your temple as he pushed a stray hair out of your face.

“The brothers are wonderful, now if you’d excuse me—“ you grimaced as the demon side stepped your attempt to skirt around him. Now pushed farther back, your irritation was plain across your face.

“C’mon. Hear me out here—“

“I do believe the lady has kindly rejected you multiple times.”

The snarl startled you, a familiar back facing you as Barbatos stepped in between you and the demon. He held a serving tray in his arm, the other arm was across his chest as he politely angled his body towards the male in front of him.

His tail gently urged you to his left, its length curling protectively around your frame.

The formerly mentioned demon scoffed, clearly irritated about the kings servent interrupting him.

“Listen Barbatos,” the demon grabbed a wad of somthing from his lined pocket, placing it discreetly in his hand. “Look the other way with the kings pet, and keep this between us.”

The chill that descended the ballroom was near paralyzing.

You didn’t dare breathe.

“Out of respect for Diavolo,” Barbatos spat, rising to his full height, his back shifting into a lethal calm. “I will not cause a scene because of this disgusting conversation. You must be unwell, considering your intellect is so skewed that you believed I could be bought out for such an act.”

The demon tensed, his foot sliding back slightly.

You’d never seen Barbatos so eerily calm. He could be unnerving in his role, but the aura he was giving off was that of a predator.

“Lord Diavolo will see to you later,” a swish of his wrist and the demon was transported instantly.

The rush and noise of the crowd and music came back immediately, and Barbatos turned to face you, bowing deeply.

“Are you harmed?”

“Uh… no. No not at all, thank you Barbatos.” Your hand reached out to take his out and make him rise.

You were at a loss for words, the lethality you had felt from him was gone, replaced with a relaxed atmosphere.

This guy gave you whiplash.

Extending his arm, he offered, “Come. Let’s get some fresh air.”

All you could do was nod.

Solomon

Honestly, the reason that you hadn’t encountered any suspicious demons was because this wizard watched you very closely. When he determined the brothers were around, he tended to let off.

But, anytime you were without one of them and he was around, he tended to ward off many a demon (he may had cast a sort of mirage around you if any ill-intended demons looked to long).

Deciding to have a bit of fun without the brothers, you had begged him to check out a new club scene that had opened up. All the students were talking about it! I’ll go anyway even if you aren’t with me!

Leaving you unprotected wasn’t an option, but he decided to play coy and tag along.

Solomon immediately disliked the air of the nightclub. The thick haze and skewed magic surrounding it instantly made him on edge. Seeing you so excited to be there, seeking out some friends from class, made him bite his tongue.

The crowd itself made him uneasy, some demons lingering looks made him grind his teeth as he steered you towards a booth to get a break.

“This place is kind of… dense.” He ground out.

“I think this’ll be fun! Oh! Let me go to the bathroom quick, one of the girls from our sorcery course needs some help fixing her look.”

You skirted off quickly. Solomon reassured himself it was fine, you had a trace of his magic he could track. He reached out to feel the tug, only—

There was nothing there.

————-

Having fixed up your friends hair, you made your way back to Solomon. Unfortunately you were intercepted, a large demon glancing down at you with wide eyes.

“So you’re the human they’ve been talking about.”

You attempted to move around him, huffing when the press of bodies halted you from doing so.

This demon was clearly intoxicated, his uneven gate and slight sway told you that much.

A grip on your arm made you flinch, moving quickly to detach the large hand from your bicep.

“Let me go, man.”

The demon flung his arms up in surrender. “Are you here by yourself? You know, this place is full of creatures that would—“

“I’m with my friends, now if you’ll excuse me.” You shouldered your way past him, ignoring his intimidating height. You looked around for the booth that Solomon and you were at previously.

Your heart thundered, where the hell was it?

“Are you a bit lost?” A grin split across his face as he leaned down, the smell of demonous reaching your nostrils. “I could help you find your friends…”

The look in his eyes told you something entirely different. Panic began to work its way up your chest and the noise and flickering lights made it hard to see against the crowd.

Suddenly, a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders. Jolting from the contact, you looked up to see Solomon, staring down the demon in front of you.

“I do hope that you weren’t giving my human any trouble here.”

Realizing who was in front of him, the demon blanched, leaning back into a few others that were crowded behind him.

“N-not at all man, just trying to help them out is all.” He waved his claws in front of his face, eager to turn and part the crowd as he made his exit.

Satisfied, Solomon looked to you.

“What happened to that bracelet you always wear?”

Furrowing your brows you spoke. “What are you talking about? It’s right here—“

You grabbed your empty wrist in alarm. Shit! You must’ve undone it when you were helping your friend.

“It’s probably in the bathroom, here, let me go grab it quick!”

Solomon grabbed your shoulder and spun you in close to him.

“Forget the bracelet.”

“But that was a gift! I’m sure it was expensive.”

You saw his jaw tick. “I’ll get you another, you’re not leaving my sight after that.”

Clasping your hand in his, he made his way to the exit.

“How do you feel about takeout?”

A smile burst across your face.

“As long as you’re the one paying.”

Solomon laughed, grasping your hand a bit tighter.

[kahluah]

*puts hand up* sorry I’m very new here what’s the context with what’s happening with the tag war??

Alright, I will give my run down, but I will not be naming any blog names on either side even if I have the info and the action was net positive. I just like to use my blog to scroll and reblog for the most part and refuse to embroil myself in the drama more than just giving my view on it as a bystander. One that definitely has an opinion on the events, but also as someone who would rather curate my own experience than fight.

So all this fighting that is going on, it used to just happen in the normal "Jiang Cheng" tag because back then there was no "canon Jiang Cheng" tag; it had not been created yet. (By that I mean it was not a tag used as a tag, Tumblr's shitty search algorithm might still show posts if one typed it in to the search bar because those posts had the words 'canon', 'Jiang', and 'Cheng' in the tags separately, but there would not be posts with "#canon Jiang Cheng" because nobody normally creates a post with a tag like that when "#Jiang Cheng" was suffice. Sometimes I see irrelevant posts in the canon Jiang Cheng tag, but the actual tag isn't on the post, the tags just happen to have all three words in them. Those I ignore because that is Tumblr's fault, not the poster.)

The fighting was between people that like the character and prefer to see the good in him and the interpretation of his character, and those that may or may not like the character (just because you like a character does not mean you need to defend their every action after all) but do not share that opinion of his character and have a more neutral or negative portrayal by contrast. The former also tended to favor or have only read the novel as it is the source material for all other adaptations.

Now things really came to a head when hate and threats were being thrown about on posts that were just quotes from the book showing the negative actions of Jiang Cheng. The people posting the quotes were basically told "if you hate the character why don't you just tag the post as anti-JC?!" but is it really right to call those anti posts when they were posting how the character acts in the source material? That is the character. That is how he acted. Look it is in the book! The character really did that! It is not somebody's negative headcanon that the character may act like that, it is something the character actually did. Personally I can not consider that as an anti character post, and neither did the people who made posts like that.

But things did get heated enough that some people finally took a step back and said "Fine. You want us to make our own space to make these posts so that you do not have to see us talk about JC this way? We will. It will be #canon Jiang Cheng and you can block it if you don't want to see the posts." Was the name picked in the spirit of schadenfreude? Very probable, but it is also not an incorrect name as the people who wanted to use it base their opinion on the novel. But the point was that the tag was created so that people now had their own space to make the posts they wanted and those that did not want to see it could block the tag. Curate your own experience; we can block tags on this site for a reason and advertising tags to block is a courtesy. (Because as said previously, the search here sucks, because the posts contain the character's name they are still likely to show up in the main tag, but block the newly created tag and you will not see those posts either way). Could the other people come into the tag in good faith and make arguments with textual support? Yeah, that was welcomed, but in the spirit of debate they should expect rebuttal. Was that what happened? No.

No instead what happened was basically this meme

They did not like the name chosen for the tag. They read the novel too and still believe that JC is good, so they should be able to use the tag too! Never mind the fact that the tag was made so they could block the posts they didn't want to see. So that they can go on with their days no longer having to deal with the people they constantly fought with. No. Instead of curating the experience of this website, they would get so hung up on the fact that there was now a tag called #canon Jiang Cheng in use that they had to use it too to defend JC from the people that post 'negative' things about him; even if it is novel text!

So while the fighting didn't stop, it did get slightly better because not everyone felt the need to jump into the new tag to defend their fave. Some people actually did curate their experience. Plus there is a block button and people do use it, so things got to a point where I would say it was relatively stable even if there was still fights here and there. (But once again I lurk, I do not participate. Things may not have been the same for more outspoken people).

But then a certain muskrat bought Twitter and a chunk of the fandom there fled here. That's when the main push to "reclaim the tag" and the new influx of people hopping into the tag to argue and defend their fave appeared. These people did not know why the tag was made, they just saw blogs that they liked telling people about the "JC-antis" that made it and how with the new people pouring into the Tumblr fandom from twitter, they had a chance to flood it and reclaim it. And since then the fighting has not really stopped.

As for what has happened in the past few days, you have JC defenders flooding the tag with fan art (not canon), screen caps from CLQ (not canon), and screenshots of a sentence or two from the novel (canon, but usually out of context or lacking additional lines that go on to rebut what was previously said) in the tag and the people who made the tag for a specific purpose getting mad about the spam. (I block so I have no clue how big the influx was or whatever but there was definitely like at least 3 new people I had to block). So when they made posts venting the anger, you got JC defenders coming back to them and going "But I never sent any hate or harassment! I just used the tag to talk about the canon character!" And perhaps they didn't, but these people in their defense always ignore and never respond to the question of why they are in the tag instead of blocking it because that is what the tag was made for. Instead they come back with "Well if you want to talk about JC that way, why don't you post in the anti tag or make your own tag!"... Remember that meme picture I used above. Yup.

The tag war began because people did not like negative posts about JC in the main character tag for JC. When told to use the anti tag or make a new tag, a new tag was made, but instead of curating the experience the stans of JC got so tilted at the name of the tag that they decided that they would come into the tag and continue the fight instead of just blocking it. Twitter fallout made the fighting worse. And now we have come full circle to the JC stans once again telling people to just use the anti tag or make their own tag.

[lavendertales]

I don’t even know but for the love of god PLEASE more age gap/ dads best friend trope with Joel Miller 🥵

I got not one, not two, but THREE requests with age gap reader x Joel Miller, so here we go, this one's for you babes 😌

Not enough || Joel Miller x f!reader**

summary: Joel is not happy when your recklessness nearly puts your lives in danger.

word count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: age gap (Joel is in his 40s, reader is like late 20s), unprotected doggy, cum play, choking, enemies to fwb.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @azertyrobaz

Oh, he’s pissed. He’s pissed, alright. You can tell in the way he’s pacing around the room, hands on his hips, brows furrowed in sheer anger. Your negligence has been more than an inconvenience today; it could’ve risked a lot of people’s lives, including your own and Joel’s.

And Joel is not a man you wanna fuck around with.

Well. Not technically.

You just so happen to be in the same shift for the night watch, that’s all. And he just so happens to be Tommy’s brother, so you know from a solid source that he’s got a temper. Inexplicably enough, you find yourself gravitating around him quite often, and not just because duty calls. He’s got an attitude too, which makes him annoying more than anything. He makes your blood boil, makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

And yet, your eyes search for him in a crowd, eager to spot that bitter face you’ve grown to detest.

Usually, your disagreements are easily solved: he grunts, you mumble, both of you cuss out loud, maybe yell a little, and call it a truce. In many ways, he doesn’t think of you as equal, you believe; why should he? He’s a skilled hunter, gunsman, and you’re just some gal in her twenties, doing your duty towards Tommy and the people in Jackson.

But today, you’ve really done it. You know it; you just refuse to give Joel the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

He told you to wait for the group to return, then you can go check for clickers. You told him for hours on end that you’ve heard about clickers in the area, and yet Joel refused to believe you. “Till I see it with my own eyes, there ain’t nothing out there,” he said. “No reason to worry everyone”. But the group took too long, and you’ve grown more and more impatient, so you sneaked out the perimeter and went to check for yourself. Surely enough, your instinct and sources have been correct, and there you were, face to face with at least a dozen clickers. Just you and your shotgun against them all.

“Are you really this stupid?”

His question makes your forehead crease with anger as well.

“Well?” he pushes. “Are you?”

“I am far more capable than what you give me credit for.”

Joel snarls, the sound mocking in and of itself, and, weirdly enough or not, you relish into it. There’s something primal behind it, something that suggests care, and that has your undivided attention.

“You could’ve been killed,” he says. “Those fuckers could’ve come in here, have their way with us. All because of you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Joel?! You wanna hear me beg for your forgiveness? Want me to beg, on my knees?”

He gulps. You see it, it’s undeniable. It’s not quite the reaction you had in mind, so it takes you aback for a moment.

Joel inches closer towards you, his face reading the same anger as before, eyes darkened by some emotion you couldn’t name at this very moment.

“Do you?” you boldly repeat.

“You’re on mighty thin ice here,” he warns, voice husky and intense. “Don’t push me.”

“Or what?”

Joel stares at you, half incredulously and half impressed. He’s always been impressed by your candor and your boldness, your uncanny ability to just face danger without a second thought and come to the others’ defense.

But today, less so. The thought of you getting infected, getting hurt in any way… he’d hate you forever if that were the case. He’d hate himself for it, too.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for here,” Joel seems to warn.

But you cock an eyebrow, causing him to gulp again and question his every moral, and every portion of his sanity.

“Give me some credit here, Joel,” you say in a ridiculously sultry voice. “I think I know what I’m looking for. If only you’d stop treating me like some kind of—“

Your words are cut abruptly by the harsh press of his mouth against yours in a surprisingly hot and needy kiss. On the one hand, you’re thankful he acted before he might’ve asked you to beg for it, like you cheekily said. You’re somewhat embarrassed that such a thing was insinuated, let alone acting upon it. The two of you do not get along, after all. He might actually hate you, simple as that.

But this right here, his calloused hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel your skin and his mouth clamping on yours, this is anything but easy. The amber light breaking through the window as the sun is setting allows you a final clear glimpse of what is happening, and your body shivers at the sight: Joel is hastily undressing you first, as if he’s in some sort of race to see you naked before you see him. You realize that yes, you do want to see him, all of him, just the way that he is, and feel him in this inappropriate moment.

It’s obvious it’s been a long time for both of you; all of the sloppy and rushed movements, getting right to it, suggest a desperation that can hardly be verbalized. Your hands drop to the hem of his shirt, tearing off some of the buttons that keep what’s underneath concealed. You take but a rushed moment to admire the scars covering his chest and belly, as well as the chest hair that you’d love nothing more but nuzzle in. nothing but a stolen moment, though. You wouldn’t want to ruin this moment with anything.

Your hands drop to his jeans, removing his belt and watching him shimmy his way out of them. Your eyes widen in surprise when you brush against him, feeling him rock hard in his boxers.

“Turn around,” he commands, and you obey.

You find yourself bent over the couch in his living room, a strong hand keeping you in place. Anticipation is killing you, the perverted thoughts soaking your mind and pussy alike. it’s ridiculous, really; how the fuck are you soaked when all you’ve done so far is argue with him? Him, Joel Miller, of all people. It feels wrong and forbidden in some way, but at the same time, it feels exactly right. Like this is what you’ve been missing all this time. Him, his arms, his eyes and mouth devouring you alike, and his cock slipping inside you.

Which is precisely what he does.

You can’t possibly control or prevent the wanton cry that comes out of your mouth when you feel his cock sliding inside of you. He pushes with ease, and in any other case it would’ve been alarming to acknowledge how soaked you are, but now, it feels oddly understandable.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” you hear him grunt. “Have you been wanting me to fuck you like this for too long, sweetheart?”

Motherf—

Again you moan when he pushes so far deep inside you, you think you’re gonna black out.

“Answer me,” he grunts.

“Screw you, Miller,” you smile.

He chuckles, because of course he does. “Isn’t it the other way around now?”

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as hard as he can, and he drags his cock all the way out just to push back inside, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then, he just starts slamming his hips into yours, deeming that he’d given you enough time to adjust and all that. After all, this is rushed, needy, and far too agonizing to prolong. It doesn’t mean anything. Why should it?

Fuck, you wanna see him right now. You wanna see the crease on his forehead that betrays his intense concentration, the way a few locks of hair fall down and the way he’s working up a sweat just by staring at your ass brushing up against his cock with each additional thrust. All you can do is moan brokenly as your body is being used as leverage for him to propel himself into, but hell, you could not possibly complain.

Neither of you says much except the occasional cuss word or grunt. Those are the only sounds filling the dead air. It’s hard to focus on actually doing what you’re doing and saying something. Maybe you don’t need to; adding words to this already complicated situation would only make it more meaningful when it’s just about blowing off some steam.

Although you cannot ignore the waves of pleasure that rip through you when Joel’s hand curls around you from the very same position he’s fucking you. A cry leaves your throat, currently held by one of his calloused hands, and Joel smiles in some delirious ecstasy.

“That’s right,” he teases, almost breathless. “This is all you needed—isn’t it?”

If you couldn’t speak before, you certainly can’t now. Joel doesn’t tell you how good it feels to feel you this way. He doesn’t tell you how feral it makes him to have your body at his will, to fuck you this hard and fast from behind like you’re running out of time.

Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. All he knows is that the buildup in his belly is gonna erupt soon, but he needs to feel you first.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over and squeezing your throat just a little more. “Make it a good one for me, hm? How ‘bout that?”

It’s like he presses an automatic switch as he says that; within the next few seconds, you clamp down all around him, your body seizing up and soaking his cock with your juices as you reach the throes of ecstasy.

“J-Joel—“you finally manage to get out.

He fucks you through your climax, only to pull out as abruptly as he entered you, stroking himself to completion right on your ass. Breathless, he can only stare at the hot, messy canvas he’d painted on your body. The image triggers something inside of him, something deep and primal, urging him for more.

But he can’t. He shouldn’t. There are about a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t, and yet, he just did.

A final smack over your ass lets you know that the exchange of bodily fluids and pleasure has come to an end. When your eyes lock, he doesn’t say a word to you, and neither do you. Instead, he grabs a towel to clean you gently with, a stark contrast between the feral man from mere moments ago and the current one.

“Don’t make me care about you,” he warns.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you say, highly doubting that sentence.

[cosmicstarlatte]

Devil-Mart ⭐ (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You got hired at mega retailer, Devil-Mart⭐. Naturally, the guys "suddenly" need a job too and start working alongside you.

»Characters: Demon Bros + Bonus Dia and Barb

»Tags: Humor, Bulleted Style fic, Gender Neutral Reader/MC

»Notes: How about shopping with them?-> [Devil-Mart: Shopping]

Lucifer:

"...Mammon put us in debt this month."

Was worried you'd be bullied (or eaten) surrounded by demons/other monsters

Is that coworker who acts like a boss

Actually does make it to management within the first week

The customer isn't always right. He's the manager to call for rude customers

Actually likes stocking, finds neat aisles soothing

The home improvement dept is his favorite

Frequently makes sure you take all your breaks

Doubles as store security if needed

Mammon:

"I just needed extra cash alright?"

Was worried you'd fall for some other demon

Failed in all departments except online orders (he's very fast!)

Bags for orders would occasionally go missing

Took extra long breaks but Lucifer caught on and wrote him up

Would try to frequently visit you in your department

Started fights with other workers who were busier staring at you than their work

"They're not meat, beat it!"

Got fired for trying to steal electronics

Levi:

"Theres a lot of new merch releases coming up soon!"

Didn't want to be the only one left out so he applied...plus you won't see him anymore!

Electronics department ONLY

You won't find him cross trained anywhere else, he refuses

Is actually really good with upselling

Can be aggressive if you don't go with his recommendations

Has received a few complaints for that reason

Tries to match his breaks with you since that's the only time he really gets to see you

Was the one who tattled on Mammon

Satan:

"This is for research."

A lie he almost believes but knows he just wants to be near you

Works the same department as you so you see each other all day

Never put him on registers or customer service

Almost got into a fight on the first day

Retail is rough for him but he does it for you

Complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Asmo:

"Ugh...a job!? I'm gonna cry. Oh but my fans would love if I relate to them! And your job will be fun with me there!"

Upfront about his reason lol

Refused to do anything except customer service

Just stands back and talks to customers while the coworker alongside him completes any transactions

Makes DevilToks on the clock

Frequently leaves his spot to talk to you and Satan

Gets all the work gossip

Lucifer never catches on

"You know, this isn't so bad! I'm such a good worker right!?"

Gets employee of the month

Beel:

"I don't like the thought of you surrounded by demons alone. This isn't RAD."

Aalajffkslsjda the cutest honest protector

Is cross trained everywhere but

Never put him near grocery ever again

Likes to work with you if he gets the chance

Usually works in the backroom unloading and back stocking things

Has a doctors note that let's him take frequent breaks for eating

His favorite department overall is security because Lucifer gives him extra treats if he prevents high valued thefts

Belphie:

"I'm here because I have things I would like to have."

Is there an extra meaning to that?

Works in the back with Beel usually

Takes frequent naps in hidden areas of the backroom

Pretends to look busy if Lucifer is around

Also complains to Demon Resources about Lucifer daily

Fights with Levi on your breaks because he also wants to spend time with you when he can

Is the reason some coworkers don't approach you

He makes it known to not fuck with you

Diavolo heard you started a new job alongside the brothers! He goes to visit with Barbatos in tow.

Diavolo:

"Can I get a little help here?"

Flirts with you while on the clock. He thinks the red vest on you is cute!

Was wowed by the store in general

(Normally Barbatos does the shopping alone)

Liked sampling the food that was around the store

Was tempted to apply but Barbatos shut it down

Took a photo of Lucifer in his manager clothes

Barbatos:

"Seeing you here will make my shopping trips more enjoyable."

Praises your work

Did have to go to customer service to complain and ran into Asmo

Didn't believe Asmo was gonna clean the restrooms but at least the complaint was taken

Takes a survey and compliments you

Has to fight Dia to get him off the racecar cart

"It's for parents with children my lord."

Returns the cart to the cart corral like an upstanding citizen

My first bulleted story post lol. I had fun with this & hope to make more in the future. <3

⬦You might also like: Coconut︱Mexican Restaurant︱Waffle House︱You ARE The Father

[alastorsfuckassbob]

Vulnerable

Alastor x Fem!Reader- Part 3

WELCOME TO THE LOWKEY FAN SERVICEY PORTION OF OUR BROADCAST🗣️! Sorry for the long wait..uh ANYWAY- Its just a silly little steamy make out session I felt like writing lowkey unnecessarily added into the plot. Its character development This is done mostly on the grounds of I felt bad for being slow with the plot and wanted to give you radio demon lovers out there some crumbs.<3

✨The plot✨(these are getting worse as we go)

Our depressed dear y/n self deprecates in front of a "hang in there" kitten poster. before bitching about the cold on her walk home.Oh shit her house is broken into. In this life its just you and your shitty pocket knife. Nvm its a cool dress! She then spends a good half hour thinking about their old relationship's spicy times.

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️

-Mentions of domestic violence

-Mentions of alcohol

-Fuckass Val

-A little make-out sesh (smut is scary so you can use your little imagination to figure out what happens after)

Mornings in hell were colder than one might expect, despite the nearly constant blaze of sinner set fire. At its heart, Hell was frigidly cold, especially at night. A part of you had gotten used to the way it clawed deeply against your skin. However, the other part of you secretly begged to some god somewhere you didn't quite believe in to make the sun rise a little faster. It wasn't necessary by any means, Hell wasn't anything more than a desert. All you had to do was wait. The crisp morning would lose its glacial influence as the sunlight reached out to touch it just as it always did. You just needed to be patient. You take in a deep breath, attempting to let go of your displeasure.The sharp frosty air pierced your lungs, unknitting the last strings of warmth from your skin on impact. Your teeth began to chatter. You curl into the softness of your wings, it wasn't much, but it helped.

From your recently awakened slumber, you had briefly forgotten the events of the night before. However, upon seeing angel slumped in bed beside from you, the realisation took root. The recollection flattened your heart like a careless truck running over a measly stray bit of garbage

Your performance last night was nothing more than a falsified forgery. It was adorned with the typical strokes and details found in your normal act, but it was so hopelessly fake. Valentino could always tell when you were phoning it in. Despite his fraudulent demeanour, he demanded authenticity from you. After your previous..altercation, you just didn't have it in you to thread your harsh edges in salacious intent. You were an excellent dancer, but you hated the prying eyes that glued themselves onto your figure. Val wouldn't be happy with that. You were already voiceless, he already owned your soul. He couldn't physically take much more, but he could still make your life a relentless nightmare. The punishments he so easily gave out always had a creatively cruel flair. The thoughts brought on a familiar uneasiness. You could take whatever he threw at you, you wouldn't like it but you would endure. You didn't have to like it. Your grounds were barren in the terms of genuine will. You didn't have a reason to keep living, you just refused to die. You would endure until the red toned city around you pathetically crumbled back into the ground. You would watch the world you lived in reflect the terms of your anguish in twisted perfection over and over again...All by the hands of Valentino. You couldn't do much else. Your dimly lit soul had grown more accustomed to calloused hands and absinthe than you wanted to admit..It was just the way of things.

Great now you were cold and stressed out.

Your mind drifted to Angel. His crumpled hair and soft arms outstretched in your direction. The night before, he had spilled a glass of gin soaked secrets, revealing more than you expected him to. His drunken tears leaked into the brimstone walls of your heart. You learned his name was Anthony in life among other things. He probably didn't remember opening up to you, you were surprised you did.

He had been in Hell much longer than you had been..he had been with Valentino much longer than you had..years longer. The thought held more pain than your sore bruise lined body could feel.

Valentino had the poor habit of misguiding his frustration. As much as you pissed him off, your groans of pain just weren't as satisfying as Angels. Even if Val dragged your limp body across the studio, his nails dug deeply into the flesh of your skull, he wouldn't be satisfied if he didn't hurt Angel too. You couldn't help but wonder how he put up with it all. He was a lot stronger than people give him credit for. How long had Angel been his favourite toy? How many other souls tied to Valentino fucked up as you so often did? How did he deal with the brunt of that frustration tipped in his direction? How many times was he hurt because you didn't give Val what he wanted?

He was an angry disagreeable man he would always find some excuse to take that out on others.You knew that, you just hadn't stopped to think how many times had you been the excuse he used to justify how he treated Angel. Your hand brushed a stray strand of hair from his peaceful face. You didn't want to cause him any more pain.

Angel at least looked warm. He still slept soundly curled up towards the edge of the bed. His legs were neatly cocooned into a pile of various blankets. You stretched, shaking the sleep from your eyes and the fog from your brain.

You stood up glancing back on his sleeping form. A part of you felt bad for leaving Angel wordlessly.. His night wasn't great either, even if it was your fault, you could still help make it better. You could also make it worse. You couldn't risk that. He would get over your sudden absence, but what if you said the wrong thing and he hated you for it. He should hate you, after all it was your fault the night went to shit.

I mean even if for some reason he didn't want you to leave, it would be easier if he didn't have to explain why you're here to the literal princess of hell. Its not like you could tell her yourself. You'd rather walk home a bit early and save him the trouble.

You glance at the digital clock stationed on his nightstand, It read 5am. Hopefully the other residents of the hotel weren't early risers. that would really be hard to explain.

You walked into his bathroom to at least attempt to make yourself a bit more presentable. You let out the breathy shell of a laugh; amused by the emotionally supportive posters and positive notes that adorn the wall around the sink. He was trying in some way, he was trying to make the best of things. He didn't have anyone to remind him it was going to be okay besides the small grey kitten saying "hang in there". on one of the larger posters. You pick up a note in Angel's swirled handwriting

"You're hot in more ways than just physically! Nice ass but nicer everything else"

It was a little silly, but it made you feel better for a second. Your eye gets caught on your hellish exterior in the mirror. God- you looked rough.

The mascara stains under your eyes did nothing but highlight the heavy bags that already resided there. Your hair had awkwardly shifted back into its natural texture in some places and erupted in frizz in others. You were still wearing that burlesque outfit Valentino had picked for you. Russet red dried blood and what you assumed to be half a fruity cocktail stained the front. You looked like an extra in a poorly funded zombie film.

Ironically the outfit had been one of your favorites before then. It reminded you of Alastor- big surprise there- almost everything does at this point.

The cut of the top and the off shoulder sleeves reminded you of the dress he had bought you to celebrate your new part time gig singing at that little bar downtown. The outfit's color reflected it marvelously as well- sadly the similarities seemed to end there. The outfit had numerous cut outs and a slit up each side. It didn't leave much to the imagination, but those subtle details kept it in your good graces. Not that it mattered, it was practically ruined now. Maybe you thought too deeply, but it started to feel painfully ironic.

You had sewn into the outfit memories of an ill-fated gentle romance and a shared cup of camomile tea, but ultimately it doesn't change what it really was, stained with the shadow of lust...Just as you had been.

The outfit would never truly resemble that dress. Even if you found an ounce of similarity. Even if you dragged it to the tailor and used its corroded bones to recreate the dress exactly.They weren't the same, they could never be.

You weren't the same.

You hadn't been for quite some time.

In the end, it wouldn't matter if he would ever consider accepting you in the condition you're in. Your skin will always sustain the weight of Valentino's hand. The vulnerability in your soul had been sparked by fear as opposed to love. Whats done is done. Even if you had been crafted with the object of love in mind your heart had been distorted beyond the point of recognition, it could never really be the same again.

With that, you didn't want him to find you anymore. It would be worse to watch him fall out of love with you as he realised you weren't the same. The love you had so protectively harboured in your heart for the devilish man was cut loose. It drifted away into the rotting sea of your soul surrounding it. You couldn't bring yourself to tear down the post you had previously tied it to. Even if you told yourself you couldn't love him any longer, the hole he left in your heart was too large for your will to cover.

You shrug on the coat you had slung on the floor before crashing last night and slide on your shoes.

You grab a pen from Angel's desk-if you could even call it that. It was nothing more than an old bar stool with a jar of pens and a pink glittery notepad. You scrawled a simplistic message. You didn't want him to worry about you. Even if he said he didn't care, he was sensitive. You didn't want to hurt him any more than you had already.

" Hey Angie! I went home- don't worry I wasn't kidnapped! Eat something for breakfast or I swear to god I'll make you eat an eyebrow pencil next time I see you..Love ya lots<3" Your handwriting was a bit messier than normal but it did the job okay.

You walked to the door, opening it it quietly, the lock behind you clicking as you shut the door to Angel Dust's room.

Finding your way out of the hotel was trickier than you expected but nothing you couldn't manage. Once outside you began to shiver. You tugged your coat tightly against your skin, not that it helped much. You refused to fly in such icy temperatures. The wind would be far less intrusive at a slower speed.

The walk from your apartment to the hotel was a little over an hour. Perhaps if you weren't so hung over it wouldn't have taken you as long.The sun just begun to peak out from the horizon, simultaneously allowing enough space for the nightly wind to have free passage, and the blinding light of the sun to assault your eyes; your own special little fuck you from the universe.

The steps up leading to your third floor flat were much steeper than you had previously recalled. Hauling your body up them took a lot more energy than you care to admit. Out of breath and slightly sweaty you were finally headed down towards your room.

Your steps creak in harmony with the ancient building's crumbling walls. You glance down the hallway at what you had hoped would be a chance to decompress.

You stop abruptly a few units from your own. The door was ajar. You pull a short pocket knife from the side of your shoe. The rusted knob looked no worse than it already did. The lock however, featured a few more scratches than you recalled.

You were too tired for this bullshit, You hadn't actually used a knife before. Stabbing people seemed like an intuitive thing to do, but your inexperience left you drenched in anxiety. Nothing within you wanted to go inside, but your legs begged for rest. There really wasn't any use in preventing the inevitable. Eventually you would go inside or whoever was inside would come out. Either way its stab or be stabbed. The door whines as you slide yourself inside. You knew the situation was dangerous, all you had was a shitty knife you mostly used to open packages. If someone was here to kill you..without your voice no one would even know. You pushed the thought aside. You could still run. You could still fly. You weren't hopeless.You crept throughout the apartment with the knife raised steadily in front of you- ready to fight whatever had arrived.. Nothing ever came. By the first two rooms you had lost your concern. It was just how you left it. You stepped into your bathroom, locking the door behind you. You must have just forgotten to close the door behind you the day before.

You glanced around the bathroom before you noticed it was not in the disrepair you'd left it in. A fresh bouquet of roses sat neatly in the vase, the old dried flowers tied and hung above them to use in your next bath. The radio you had so unfortunately melted been replaced by an antique model adorned in golden trim and a stained glass depiction of a small canary. Lastly, a neatly wrapped vermillion box sat on the opposite side of your vanity, a wax sealed envelope tucked between the box and the large velvety bow.

This was a bit ( really fucking) weird. Curiosity over took you as you reached for the dark inky envelope.

You trace the underside of the waxy seal with the edge of your knife, effectively tearing it from the envelopes dark paper. You unfolded the letter unsure where something like this would even come from. You had admirers, but anything they said or gifted to you went through Valentino first. He was the only one he deemed fit to give or take anything from you. He was greedy in the gifts he received and thoughtless in the gifts he gave. None of this felt thoughtless.

Dearest y/n,

I believe it is time you were compensated for all that I have put you through these past two days. I believe you would simply sparkle in this color. If it is to your liking, please wear it tonight. I hope to see you there.

With love,

-Yours truly

Val had gifted you dresses and other fashions in the past, more for his own satisfaction than as a reward. He rarely wrote the notes himself or even delivered the gift. He left it up to an unlucky assistant or just threw the garment in your face in passing.. Nothing about this felt like anything he would do. Perhaps one of his newer assistants didn't get the memo he is a massive piece of shit.

Regardless, you were curious to see what odd fantasy you were fulfilling tonight. You untied the ribbon. Upon lifting the lid, you realised today was going to end up much stranger than you'd hoped. Nothing about this made sense. The dress reminded you of something you might have worn out in your younger days..Was Val planning some weird 20s fetish night or just attempting to fuck with you? He knew the details of your past, with the exception of Alastor's involvement. Perhaps it was some form of psychological warfare you didn't understand.

Upon closer inspection , the dress was astoundingly quite tasteful. You pulled the item from the box pleased it kept going. Usually if the purchased dress was "too long" it would be cut short before it arrived in your hands, causing you a stressful few hours with your sewing machine fixing seams and hem lines.

You slid of the shell of your dirtied clothes and stepped into the dress. It fit you like a glove. The familiar 1920's silhouette and subtle inclusion of art deco threatened to pull you back into your old habits. It really was a gorgeous dress. The beaded scarlet fabric clung to your hips before slightly flaring at your knees. It sported a neckline adorned with crystals that dipped off of your shoulders and into the sleeves The back of the dress scooped down to your lower back a deeper toned train following it. Despite your otherwise disheveled appearance, you felt beautiful.

You look down at the red fabric pooling behind you, you don't want it to, but your mind begins to shift.

1929: New Orleans: The Bar

Your hands shake more than you wished they would, no matter how many times you sang here it always left you feeling anxious. The music sways in tandem with the bars patrons, mimicking the constant lull of conversation. You began to sing.Your voice cuts through the clinking of glasses and exhilarating cheers with a crystalline ring. You glance over to the bar in view of Alastor. His eyes trapped in a half lidded love led daze, filled with nothing but adoration for you.

You glance back down at your hands. They are covered in black velvet, contrasted by a simple pearl bracelet hanging loosely from your wrist. It was one of the many from Alastor on your birthday earlier that year. You had insisted it was far too much, and he insisted you were making far too big a deal of it. He wanted you to feel appreciated and loved, what better way to accomplish that than with a meaningful gift.

He wasn't fantastic with words when it came to you. His hands craved contact with your own. The sentiment he needed to convey didn't fully exist within the bounds of english, or french for that matter. You were worth more than any riches the world could offer you. He could spend his nights bottling starlight and collecting bits of moon and lay them at your feet, and he still wouldn't feel like it was enough. His mind drifted to your past. You were private with the majority of the details. He had collected the story over time from thoughtless anecdotes you mentioned in passing. He knew life before him hadn't been kind.Your mother had died during your birth, but her face stayed firmly in your grasp. Your father hated you for that reason, and he was not a pacifistic man. He felt you had taken the love of his life and left him alone with nothing more than a portrait you hadn't yet grown into. He had been sickly the majority of your life. The more you grew in likeness to your mother the less he fought to get better. He died when you were only 14, leaving you to fend for your siblings. You had raised them just as much as you raised yourself. If the world wasn't going to gift you a delicate existence. Alastor certainly would be. In that moment he vowed to make sure you never felt worried or lost ever again, he couldn't bare the thought of it.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the song climaxed into a loud jazzy finish. You glanced over at him again with a smile. You stepped down from the stage, the red fabric trailing behind you. You walked across the bar and into his arms. He instinctively wraps around your waist, his hand nestled into your own. The moment is pure ecstasy.

"If I could on pick one sound to hear for the rest of eternity it would be your darling voice mon cher" His honey toned voice whispered into your ear. You looked marvellous but the sound of your voice was entrancing.

Your eyes roll, a satirical air taking over your tone. "How many times did you rehearse that line Al?"

" Very evidently not enough. You've made i clear I needed a bit more rehearsal" His familiar sarcastic attitude evident in his tone. "For such a pretty face you have a hard time accepting a compliment"

You giggle into his chest.He placed a kiss against your forehead. Subconsciously you lean into his touch. You can't help but want to be closer to him. Your arms stretch around his neck effectively pulling him into a hug.

"My my, someones touchy this evening" his distinctive laugh following shortly after. It was the kind of laugh you could hear across a crowded room twenty years in the future and immediately know it was him. your hands travel to either side of his face, cupping it gently. Before you know it, your lips meet his. This kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is imbued with ever ounce of love you have ever felt for each other. His grasp on your waist tightens, pulling you in as close as humanly possible. The dark brown strands of his hair tangle into your hands. The kiss heats up faster than either of you care to admit before you finally register you're in public. He quickly composes himself, as do you. A sly smile stretches across his face. He glances down at your dress, his mind floating aimlessly searching for an excuse to be alone with you. Despite how deeply he loved you, he wasn't the type to display that in public. It felt a bit unsavoury. You were his and his alone.

"Darling, I think you may have torn your dress, during your wonderful performance. Would you allow me to help you fix it in a more, secluded location"

You looked down at your dress not entirely understanding what he meant. He always had your best interest in mind, perhaps he saw something you didn't. Besides, you didn't want to ruin the dress he bought you any further than you already had unknowingly.

"Oh I didn't realise it had torn. Of course, thank you love."

You take his hand in yours and lead him into the small dressing room. It was really just an extra office the owner had put a few mirrors, a changing screen, and vanity into. You stood in front of the taller of the two mirrors attempting to locate the tear.

"Alastor love, I don't see what you mean perhaps it was the ligh-"

Before you can finish your sentence his lips are pressed against your own. You lean into the kiss grasping onto his vest to steady yourself. You're caught in your own personal whirlwind. Your hands are glued against his sepia skin.

He breaks the kiss for a moment kissing the corner of your mouth trailing down your jaw and onto your neck. He sucks lightly against your skin

You're so precious to me y/n" his voice is deeper than it normally was. It held each desire he felt and simultaneously every ounce of adoration.

You let out a soft gasp as he lightly bites the side of your neck. He travels along it as your hands tangle themselves in his hair once more. God you didn't want this to end, but you wanted to feel closer to him. You drag him away from your neck placing your lips against his once more.Your hands trace the outline of his shoulders. His hands explore the curve of your spine and the softness of your waist. He lifts you up and sits you against the vanity. Subconsciously your legs wrap around his waist deepening the kiss. (scream)

"I have never loved someone the way I love you Alastor..thank you for letting me" You breathe out in between kisses.

He wasn't one to let people in. Not truly, he had a public persona and a private one. You were glad to get to know the esteemed radio host outside of the studio. You were so glad he let you seen him the way he was so afraid to be perceived as...Vulnerable.

A/N: LOL IM SORRY THAT ONE WAS KINDA SHORT. Also please let me know it the writing style and lengths are working. I've never really written before so Idk the right way to do this. Thanks for reading :) <3

-Also congrats to me for not using a song as the crutch to come up with a title.

[missing-n-human]

Hi there! Was wondering if we could get headcanons of the bishops being parents? (Or finding out they're gonna be parents? You can choose ^^

Bishop Parent Headcanons

𑁍 Featuring 𑁍

♡ Platonic & Romantic ♡ ✦ I decided to do both since I got heavily inspired for some reason seeing this request ✦ For finding out ‘you’ is their partner so Romantic ✦ For being parents ‘you’ is their child so Platonic ✦ Also set around post-game ⋆ Sorry if it seems low effort or anything I was about to go to sleep when I saw your request and suddenly felt like I had to do it ⋆ Also side note, no Narinder included just the main four bishops

|⌨|Finding Out|⌨|

✎ Leshy, Bishop of Chaos

✿ He was surprised at first, thinking he misheard you

✿ It took a few tries before he finally believed you weren’t messing with him

✿ He would check in on you more than he used to in case you needed him

✿ Would spend the nights cuddling with you though and listening for the baby’s heartbeat

✿ Ends up becoming more affectionate, nuzzling into you, and overall more touchy

✿ Quick to show up if you even slightly sound like you’re in pain or call for him

✎ Heket, Bishop of Famine

𖥧 Accepted it pretty quickly, not questioning you much

𖥧 Makes sure you are well fed and sometimes even cooks for you herself

𖥧 Did become overprotective quite a bit, excusing her actions as wanting to keep the baby safe… many followers were lost for being too close to her comfort

𖥧 Helps with any cravings you end up having no matter how strange they might end up being

𖥧 Do expect a lot of surprise visits from her when she isn’t busy

𖥧 When both of you are in bed she will end up touching your stomach a lot and talking about the baby’s future

✎ Kallamar, Bishop of Pestilence

⚠ Had a near heart attack when you told him the news and did faint somehow

⚠ Worried for you 24/7 now and does not let you out of his sight

⚠ Constantly asking if you are okay and if you need anything

⚠ Tries to help keep you as healthy and pain-free as possible

⚠ Refuses to let any followers get close to you just in case

⚠ Lots of cuddling at night and he ends up telling you about how he worries about what happens when the kid is born

✎ Shamura, Bishop of War

𖦹 You had to tell them a few times before they could actively remember it

𖦹 Helps you research how the pregnancy will be and all the effects so you aren’t in the dark

𖦹 Has everything planned out to help you through it, cravings, pain, even had the labor planned out

𖦹 Tries to remember to check in on you so you don’t hurt yourself by overworking

𖦹 Leaves you under the care of Allocer (the witness of their area) when they are busy

𖦹 Informs you about the prophecy they had about the pregnancy and the child.

|⌨|Parenthood|⌨|

✎ Leshy, Bishop of Chaos

✿ Encourages any form of chaos caused by you as long as it does not hurt you. Want to light stuff on fire go ahead just don’t get burned

✿ Gives you flower crowns and likes teaching you about plants

✿ Is very affectionate with you and praises you a lot

✿ Calls you his little camellia & wormlet (word for baby worms I guess)

✿ Tries his best to be a good parent and keeps you away from his followers

✿ Gave you a mini version of his robes as a birthday gift once

✎ Heket, Bishop of Famine

𖥧 Her way of raising you isn’t the most positive

𖥧 Teaches you basic life skills like cooking and how to start a fire

𖥧 Keeps you away from everyone besides a selected few until you are older

𖥧 Criticizes everything you do and is very nitpicky about it while still speaking few words

𖥧 Thinks being tough on you is the best way to make sure you aren’t a pushover

𖥧 Calls you tadpole and pumpkin

✎ Kallamar, Bishop of Pestilence

⚠ Overprotective & overbearing

⚠ No interactions with others unless he’s there

⚠ Tries to keep you locked away from the world since he doesn’t want you to be hurt

⚠ Very loving and affectionate as long as you follow his rules

⚠ Calls you his crystal and little minnow

⚠ Thinks what he’s doing is best for you

✎ Shamura, Bishop of War

𖦹 They sometimes forget you exist but make it up to you once they remember

𖦹 Makes sure you are well educated about the world and how they run their cult

𖦹 Doesn’t hide much from you, letting you interact with anyone you want as long as you are careful

𖦹 Did consider revoking leaving the temple without an escort after you had a run-in with a certain fluffy purple spider

𖦹 Does give you some affection here and there with sparse praise when you prove you have been following your studies

𖦹 Introduced you to their siblings when you were ‘old’ enough and often gets you books about war tactics for your birthday

𖦹 Calls you spiderling and little poppy (I swear it’s not that random)

_____________ Before you make any requests, please review/check my rules on requesting stuff. I will prioritize requests that include the stuff I requested when asking for something. Requesting Rules

[thegettingbyp2]

Hi! your fics are amazing! can I request for Anthony bridgerton a marriage of convenience (+ enemies to lovers)? thank youuuu

Get Used to It

A/N: I'm thinking of writing a part 2 for this! Let me know what you think!!

Anthony Bridgerton irritated you to no end.

Your family and the Bridgertons had been close for as long as you could remember and you got along with all of the Bridgerton siblings, all except the eldest. You couldn’t place exactly what it was but there was something about him that annoyed you; and it was the exact same for him. In fact, the two of you disliked each other so much, you pretty much stayed away from each other unless you absolutely had to interact with each other.

Until now, that is.

‘No,’ you replied to your parents bluntly, shocking them at your blatant refusal. You understood that in the society you lived in, you didn’t always get a say in what happens in your personal life, but this was crossing the line.

‘Sweetheart, I know that the two of you don’t always get along but this is for the best, this is the best possible move that our families can make, combining two of the biggest families in the Ton,’ your mother tried to reason with you as your father stood in front of you.

‘Mother, I can’t,’ you insisted, ‘not him, please don’t make me. Choose someone else and I won’t complain just don’t make me marry him.’

‘(Y/N), stop this, your being silly. You and Anthony Bridgerton are going to be a perfect match,’ your father cut in, effectively silencing you. You looked between your parents and as you took in the stubborn expressions on their faces, your shoulders slumped in resignation, knowing that there was no point in trying to argue.

The next day found you and your parents going for tea at the Bridgertons and, naturally, you were seated next to your new fiancé. Sensing that the two of you were uncomfortable, your parents and Violet suggested that the two of you go for a walk along the grounds. At first, you tried to protest, but when you felt Anthony’s hand wrap around your shoulder, you got up from your seat, not even bothering to put up a fight.

The two of you were walking through the garden in silence, you trying to put as much distance between you and Anthony as you possibly could. It had gotten to a point where your silence was irritating him and he pulled you to a stop by grasping your wrist and turning you to face him.

‘So you’re not even going to talk to me?’ he asked, sighing heavily when you didn’t respond. ‘Look, I don’t like this any more than you do but we don’t have a choice, believe me, I’ve tried to get us out of this but I can’t, so get used to it and talk to me.’

‘I get that we can’t get out of it, I’ve tried too,’ you snapped, ‘so we can be civil in public but can we just make a deal not to bother each other if we don’t have to.’

A smirk began to form on Anthony’s lips as he took another step towards you, tilting your chin up to look at him. ‘You know, I’m going to be your husband,’ he mused, ‘and there are certain expectations between a husband and a wife.’

As his words trailed off, your eyes widened, having completely forgotten about what being married to him would mean. ‘No. We don’t have to do that at all,’ you replied, feeling your cheeks turning red when you heard Anthony’s chuckle. ‘Besides,’ you added, ‘how would it feel knowing you’d be sleeping with someone who doesn’t want you.’ You tried to hurt him with your words, instead, it seemed to do the exact opposite as you watched determination fill his eyes.

‘I have patience, Miss (Y/L/N),’ he said gently, the smirk still playing on his lips. ‘I’ll wait until I have you begging me to take you and, believe me, it will happen.’ He said, bending down to press a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before turning and walking away, leaving you standing in the garden watching him, wondering what the hell you’ve just gotten yourself into.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.3

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which both you and anakin begin packing, but for two different reasons, and in an attempt to reassure you, he comes home with something that will surely get his point across.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.3k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY HALLOWEEN

“This is so fucking sad,” Anakin mutters as he shoves the few shirts he took out of his bag back into it. “We didn’t even get to unpack our clothes yet.”

You nod as you drop your sweatpants into your suitcase that was open on the bed. “I know,” you agreed. “I feel like we’re moving out again, even though we’ll only be gone for a few months. This place already feels like home, I’m going to miss it.”

Anakin nods and drops his bag onto the floor before moving to stand behind you. “It feels like home because it is our home, pretty girl,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as you begin to fold a pair of jeans. “And it’ll still be here in three months. The lease doesn’t expire until we want to move again.”

“I don’t want to move again,” you tell him, placing your hand on his arm when he wraps it around your middle. “At least not for a while. I need a sense of normalcy after all this is over.”

He hums, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose. “I get that, believe me,” he says. “Just last year I was uploading our first single onto my old Youtube account, now I’m being asked to extend our first tour. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to take it all in yet.”

You smile at him, zipping up your suitcase before turning around in his arms. “You’ve got the rest of your life to do that,” you tease, leaning up to kiss him quickly. “Try to live in the moment, Ani. The rest of the world will catch up to you eventually.”

Anakin gives you a grateful look, his lips turning upwards in a grin that takes you back to yours and his high school days. He looks so at peace right now, so young and carefree, it makes you miss the way things used to be, if only for a split second. You wouldn’t change a thing about the last five years. “What am I going to do without you? I know it’s not forever, it’s not even for half a year, but three months is too long without you.”

You wrap your arms around his middle. “I know,” you mumble. “But I’m going to come visit you. I refuse to miss all of your shows, I need to see at least a few.” 

Anakin groaned quietly, leaning down to press a hard kiss to your lips. “How is it possible that I already miss you? You’re in my arms yet I still miss you,”

You shrug, tracing your finger over his sleeve of tattoos and pausing on your initial. “Maybe your body is already preparing itself,” you offer. “I hope you get some good sleep on this tour. I know you had a hard time doing it last time.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, moving around you so he can sit down on the bed next to your suitcase. His hands pull on your waist and you stand in between his thighs, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I’ll be sleeping alone this time around while you’re off doing London things. I’ll be lucky to get more than four hours of sleep throughout the next three months.”

You roll your eyes and kiss him again, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. “You’ll just have to learn how to live without me,”

Anakin glared at you, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Like fuck I will,”

Laughing, you quickly kiss his cheek before pulling away from him. Anakin reluctantly lets you go, his arms falling back to his sides as you begin to sort through what books you wanted to take with you. 

Anakin watches you with a weary look on his face. It was clear that you were nervous about going to London on your own, and he knew you were worried about your relationship. While you are both fully aware that you two were it for each other, this was still a big step. 

Nearly five years in and you hadn’t spent more than a week away from one another, so to spend multiple was a big change. It was obvious that you were feeling anxious about it all, and Anakin wanted to assure you that everything will be fine. He wanted to ensure you were aware that you will be the one constant on his mind during the whole time he is away from you. 

A half an hour goes by and Anakin is once again asked to come to the studio. He is sitting at the desk beside Vinny as Theo goes over a new beat he made up on his bass in the soundbooth. “Hey,” he asked his friend and drummer, leaning over so he didn’t have to talk very loud. “You free for a few hours after this?”

Vinny leans over as well, glancing at Helena before meeting Anakin’s eyes. “Yeah, I should be,” he answers. “What’s up?”

“Y/n’s stressing out about leaving for her program, though she won’t admit it,” Anakin says. “I want to assure her somehow. Are you down to sit through a tattoo session with me?”

“Always, man,” Vinny reaches over and bumps Anakin’s fist with his own. “Count me in.”

Anakin gives his friend a grateful smile before turning back to watch Theo. 

After successfully recording the beat for a possible future song, Helena sits the three guys down and excitedly announces that she’s come up with a way to get some good promo out to the fans. “We’re going to hire a tour photographer,” she informs them, a big grin on her glossy lips. “We need some HD pictures of you all in action, and this is a great way to get you guys out there.”

Vinny sits up in his chair, glancing over at Anakin and Theo. “That’s actually not a bad idea,”

Anakin nods in agreement, as does Theo. 

“Great, I knew you’d all agree,” Helena says and hands them each a piece of paper. “I want you to go through potential options together. Look them up on their social media, get a feel for how they portray their artists, then pick which one you think would capture you the best.”

“Sounds like homework,” Theo mumbled as he read the long list of names. Anakin and Vinny laugh as they, too, go over the list.

“No, your homework is to put out another hit single,” Helena says and the three straighten up pretty quickly after that. “Aha, not so funny when it’s your asses on the line, is it?” 

“Sorry,” Anakin says for him and his bandmates. “Thanks, Helena.”

“Uh huh,” she smiles. “Get to work, boys.”

-

“So, what will it be this time, superstar?” Brock, Anakin’s long time tattoo artist asks when he saw him and Vinny enter the shop. “You finally gonna let me tattoo a snake on you?”

“No,” Anakin shakes his head with a grin, holding out a birthday card you had given him last year. “I was thinking something more tame.”

Brock nods as Anakin pointed at the writing on the bottom of the card. “Ah,” he hums. “I like it. Have a seat.”

A few minutes later, the tattoo is printed out and the trace is pressed against Anakin’s skin. Vinny stands off to the side as Brock begins poking Anakin’s left wrist with the tattoo gun, his eyes narrowing at how calm he is when he is literally being poked with a multitude of needles. “You sure have a lot of those,” he gestures to his sleeve. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No,” Anakin answers, leaning back in the chair. “Almost feels like a massage.”

“Yeah, right,” Vinny rolled his eyes, looking at the wall of possible tattoo options. “You’re full of it.”

Anakin laughs as he looks down to watch Brock work on the neat handwriting. “You’re lucky your girl doesn’t have shitty writing, man,” Brock pointed out as he continued working. 

“I don’t think she ever did. I remember her taking notes in high school and she had good handwriting back then, too. It’s only gotten better,” he mumbles. Even if you had the worst handwriting in the world, Anakin still would’ve gotten it tattooed on him, like he is now. “A lot better than mine, anyway.”

“Fuck, mine too,” Brock muttered, wiping at Anakin’s wrist before going back in with the needle. “Chicks just have nicer writing, I guess.”

“Don’t think that’s true,” Vinny adds as he flips through a tattoo book. “Clara’s got the worst handwriting I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Anakin laughs again as he looks up at his friend. “How is she doing, anyway? Upset you’re going on tour again so soon?”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” Vinny says as he sets the book down and leans against the shelf. “I already talked to Theo about it, now I want to run it by you.”

“Sure, man,” Anakin refrains from sitting up straight and possibly making Brock mess up the tattoo. “What’s up?” 

“I know it was your bed last time, and I really am sad to hear that Y/n can’t come with us again, but I was thinking of bringing Clara with us? And she and I can get the big bed?” Vinny asked with a hint of nervousness lacing his usual cool tone. 

Anakin hadn’t even thought about that. There was no point in him needing the double bed this time around since he wouldn’t be sharing it with you, and now he was almost positive that he would not be getting very good sleep at all this time around, especially since he would be sleeping without you next to him.

Something about sleeping in the bunk under Theo’s or the one above his was not appealing at all, but he supposed he would deal with it. “Yeah, of course,” Anakin answered. “All yours, dude.”

Vinny grinned at him and bumped his fist against Anakin’s. “Thanks, man,” he says. “How are you doing with the whole ‘moving to London’ thing? You and Y/n are practically attached at the hip.” 

Anakin looked away and shrugged, eyeing the way Brody traced your pretty writing. “It’ll be hard,” he replied, trying to come off as unbothered, but he knew he would be missing you like crazy in a week. “But we’ll be fine. It’ll be five years together in a few weeks, we can go a few months without seeing each other every day.”

He hoped he sounded convincing, because even he wasn’t entirely assured. “Yeah, of course,” Vinny agreed, going back to flipping the pages of the tattoo book. “If anyone can do this it’s you two. I was talking to Helena earlier, and guess where our first location is?”

“Where?” Anakin asked as he looked at Vinny’s back.

Vinny turned around and smirked. “London,” 

-

“Y/n?” Anakin called out as soon as he got back from the tattoo shop. He had phoned Helena on the way home and confirmed that London indeed is their first tour stop, and that you could possibly go with him. “Baby?”

Your sweet voice called back, “In the kitchen, Ani,” and he was making his way down the hall without a second thought. 

When he entered the kitchen, he found you with your elbows pressed against the top of the island counter as your fingers picked at a muffin. He grinned at you before he pressed a kiss to your crumb coated lips, making you smile into it and pull away after a few seconds. 

“Good day?” You ask as your eyes trace over every inch of his face and your lips match his small smile. 

“Great day,” he corrected as he moved to stand behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle. 

You lean back against him and lift the muffin up to his mouth, not caring about the hundreds of crumbs that fell into your shirt when he bit into it. “That’s good to hear,” you leaned in and kissed his jaw as he chewed. “What happened that made it a great day?”

Anakin ran his nose along your cheekbone and pulled you a bit tighter against him. “I woke up next to you,” he answered and smirked when you just rolled your eyes as you set the half eaten muffin onto the counter. “And I got a new tattoo.”

You perk up at that and turn around in his arms, your eyes raking over his sleeve in search of the new ink. “Where? Of what?”

Anakin laughed and placed his hands on your hips, hiding the clear bandage on his wrist for the time being. “Before I show you, I want you to know that this,” he gestured between the two of you. “Is all I could ever want. You’re everything I could ever want, forever.”

You narrow your eyes as you nod, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “You’re all I want, too, Ani,”

He leaned forward and kissed you deeply, his left hand coming up to grip the side of your face. “I just wanted to make sure you’re aware of that,” he murmurs as he pulls back and moves to stand next to you. He wraps his right arm around your waist and raises his left, his tattoo on full display now.

Your eyes widen as your hand shoots out to grip his and angle his wrist in an awkward angle. “Ani,” you gasped quietly as you observed the new ink that is now permanently on his skin. 

In your neat handwriting were the words, ‘Forever Your Princess,’ etched onto the smooth skin of his wrist. You remembered writing that on a card for his twenty-first birthday, and your heart swelled at the fact that he actually kept the card. 

You look up at him with a swarm of emotions evident in your eyes. “Anakin,” you whisper and gently run the tip of your index finger over his slightly swollen wrist.

He has your initial tattooed on his bicep, and now he had your writing placed perfectly on the part of his arm that was less crowded with various other tattoos. It had its own spot, whereas your initial was surrounded by random things. 

Both had your heart beating rapidly as you moved to stand in front of him and lean up to kiss him. “You got another tattoo for me?” 

Anakin wasn’t able to respond before you were kissing him again, this time much more deeply than before. When your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, he groans against your mouth as he presses your body against the island. “I’m yours for the rest of my life, princess,” he mumbled against your slightly wet lips. “If it wasn’t obvious enough before.” 

Your eyes nearly rolled back at his words and how effortlessly he was able to turn you on. “God, you’re perfect,” 

He shook his head, his nosing brushing against yours as he did so. “And there’s something else,” 

Your hands slide back down to grip the worn fabric of his vintage tee. “Tell me,”

His fingers tease the skin of your hips when his hands push up your top a bit. “The first stop of the tour is in London,” he says and your lips turn upwards. “As long as you don’t mind sleeping in a bunk with me for a night, you can come with us.”

Your eyes cloud over with something he’s seen thousands of times now before you were kissing him again and gripping his shoulders tightly. His hands grab onto the backs of your thighs as he lifts your body up and sets you down on the island. “You are so fucking perfect,” you say again and kiss all over his face. “The absolute love of my entire life.”

Anakin laughed under his breath as you began to kiss his neck. “So, that’s a yes on coming with us for the first night?”

You pull back and raise your brow at him as if that was the dumbest question ever, and you let him know it was, too, “Are you serious? Of course I’m coming with you,” 

And that was all Anakin needed to hear before he was kissing you again and moving to stand in between your legs. 

It was cliché as fuck to say, but the two of you really did fit so unbelievably well together. While Anakin had been a pretty scrawny kid growing up, he had filled out in all the right places by the time he was in tenth grade. He also took PE during the four years he was in high school, so his shape had only gotten better since then. 

You were a hell of a lot smaller than him, and your height difference was laughable at times. Your body was covered entirely by his whenever he stood in front of you and you looked even smaller whenever he tucked you under his arm. 

And yet you fit perfectly together. 

Anakin pulls your body close to his, and you were barely on the counter as he gave a slow roll of his hips against yours. 

This is where he belonged, with you. He could get through a few months away from you if it meant you got to chase your dream after watching him achieve his. You had been so supportive of him since the very start, he couldn’t not do the same for you. 

He was so fucking proud of you. You are by far the smartest person in his life and he knew you would excel in this program. 

Three months will be nothing, right? It would be nothing when you both know that you’re in it for the long run. 

When your quiet moan reached his ears, he quickly felt himself grow hard. Though, really, it didn’t take much. You turned him on constantly, and most of the time you aren’t even trying to. 

“I’m going to miss you so much,” you say in between kisses. “I miss you already.”

When your fingers begin to work on the button of his jeans, Anakin moves to place kisses all along your neck. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore, pressing kiss after kiss to the smooth skin of your shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere without coming back to you.”

You whine quietly and the sound goes straight to his dick because he simply has no control over that part of himself, and you were so effortlessly hot. “Ani,” you beg and unzip his jeans, your small hand beginning to palm him through his tight boxer briefs. 

“I know, princess,” he mutters, his fingers teasing the waistline of your sweats. “Where do you want it?”

“Here,” you answer in a breathy tone, your freehand coming up to tug on his hair a bit. He had let it grow out a few centimeters, just to try it out, and was receiving no complaints on your end, so he assumed you must like it. Even if he didn’t like it, he probably would keep his hair at whatever length you liked the best, all because you were his girl and he would do pretty much anything to please you. “Right here.”

Anakin smirks against your skin, his hands pulling down your sweats and dropping them to the floor. “This reminds me of our place on campus,” he mumbles as he reaches down to run his index and middle fingers through your folds, finding you already wet for him. “Remember that first night we couldn’t even make it through dinner before you were begging me to fuck you? I took you right there on the counter.”

“We were nineteen, Anakin,” you try to excuse your past actions, but clearly were no better than the way you were two years ago as you were in damn near the same exact predicament. “And we just moved in, I didn’t get the chance to make the bed yet.”

He hummed as he sunk his digits into your welcoming heat. “I’m not complaining, baby,” he smirked, pulling your body closer to the edge of the counter so he could grind his still clothed front against your bare one. “Just goes to show how much we need each other, huh?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him right up against you, your legs closing around his waist. “I’m always going to need you, Ani,” you say against his mouth. “Please, touch me.”

Anakin barely had enough room to be able to push down his boxers and thrust into your core, but he managed to do it in one swift movement. He groaned against your wet lips as he began to fuck you while still being fully clothed, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your shirt as he gripped your waist. 

“Ani,” you whimper, tugging on the hair at the back of his neck with tight fists. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing along your jawline as his hips rocked into yours. “You’re so good for me, so tight.”

Your eyes roll a bit and you reach one hand down, placing it flat on the counter behind you as you try to steady yourself, despite already being relatively stable. “You feel so good, Anakin,” you praised, tilting your head back when he started to place open mouthed kisses to your throat. “So deep.”

He grunted loudly, sucking a mark onto your neck before pulling away and smirking at the love bite. “Easy,” he warned in a half serious tone. “Keep talking like that and I won’t last long at all.”

You shake your head and kiss him deeply. “I don’t need you to last long, Ani,” you mumbled. “Just need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, slowing down the harsh thrusts of his hips as he processed your dirty words. Almost five years with you and he still isn’t used to how filthy you can be when alone with him, then become innocent again after he’s done with you. “Jesus Christ, baby.”

You laughed and the sound faded into a low moan as he slowly fucked into you.  The sweet and sexy sound makes him feel a bit crazy and he goes blind for a brief second from the pleasure you always gave him. 

The cool countertop did nothing to soothe your heated skin as your body burned with desire for the man who has only ever been yours. 

The same man who is rutting into you and saying all the right things in your ear as he did so. “You’re so beautiful, princess,” he murmured. “My pretty girl. You’re so fucking sweet.” 

You gasp when he trails a hand down and rubs soft circles onto your clit with the pad of his finger. “Anakin, fuck,” you hum and tug him closer. “Please, please.”

“What?” He asked, his tone mock free as he kissed along the curve of your jaw. “What do you want, baby? What do you need?” 

“Hard,” you weakly answer, twisting his shirt in your hands. “I need it hard, Ani.”

He growled deeply and the sound went straight to your core, where you tighten around him. As he obeyed your request, Anakin found himself lost in the overall feeling of you. The way your body fit against his own, the sound of your soft moans next to his ear, how your hands couldn’t stay still on just one part of him. 

He is so in love with you, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. 

The question weighed heavily on his tongue, and it wasn’t the first time he had to stop himself from asking you right in that moment. 

He just couldn’t help it. He wanted you with him all the time, but you were still young, and have both made it clear that you wanted each other forever. There was no rush. 

“Ani,” your breathless voice called him back to you. “Don’t stop, please.”

Anakin huffed out a grunt, resuming his harsh circles on your clit. “I’m not stopping, pretty girl,” he promised. “Not until I get you off so good.”

“You always do,” you moan, wrapping both arms tightly around his shoulders as your heels dig into his back to bring him even closer to you. “I’m gonna come.”

He kissed you deep and hard, his hips hitting yours at a bruising pace. “Do it,” he says in a daring voice. “Come for me.”

You moan loudly, your hands holding his hair in a death grip.

He couldn’t lie, moving into a new apartment with thick walls had to be one of the best decisions of his life, as you and he could be as loud as you want, and it was no secret that he loved getting you to be as noisy as possible. 

He loved how vocal you got in the bedroom, or in this case, on the kitchen island. 

It wasn’t just because it was a great ego boost and ensured him that he was keeping you satisfied in bed, but because he couldn’t get enough of the sounds you have only ever made for him. 

That was obvious enough, seeing as he literally used an old video you sent him years ago in a song, just so he could share with the world how hot you truly are, even if you are very introverted yourself. 

“Anakin,” you warn in a whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Oh, God.”

Another loud moan leaves your mouth as he feels your walls flood around him, and you whimper with every thrust of his hips as he rides you through your high. “Good girl,” he praised against your lips. 

And he wasn’t too far off, either, as it was only a few more seconds later when he, too, reached his high. 

You keep your legs locked around his waist and pull him right up against you when he stills, embracing him sweetly in the afterglow. Your hands run softly through  his hair while his fingers trace circles on the skin of your hips, the silence between you comfortable yet a bit tense.

You both knew what was coming after this, and you both weren’t ready for it, but found comfort in one another as your time was now limited. 

[lookingthroughmirrors]

Opinion on how annabeth punches and pushes percy, the judo flip and percy being reduced to a himbo malewife in hoo (can't make his way out of a paper bag without annabeth).

(Please note most of knowledge comes from PJO and HOO as I have not read much of the later series, but I do know the main points and events that happened and have read certain pages *cough* judo flip *cough*

I’ll start with the first part, Annabeth punching Percy (which happens the first time long before HOO) and the infamous Judo flip, which is for some reason very controversial.

Most of the arguments I see are one of these few things.

1. Annabeth was worried and did it out love

2. They were raised as demigods (child soldiers) so it’s not the same/ they are used to violence therefore it excuses her actions

3. There is nothing wrong with her hitting because it wasn’t like

First off, all of these arguments and any other ones I’ve seen when it comes to this topic and defending Annabeth are bullshit. Why? Because there is no excuse to hitting a partner. Slapping someone’s shoulder while joking or something in a similar context is miles different to what was happening here. Annabeth hit Percy hard, and she did it with the intention of making it hurt. There is no excuse for that. Sure, they were raised as Demigods and violence has always been a large part of their lives, but then shouldn’t Percy also lash out and hit Annabeth if that’s the case? And shouldn’t that be fine too? You don’t hit someone out of worry or concern either, not hard enough for an army to believe you to be a threat. Annabeth has never been nice to Percy, she canonically say in TLT that she doesn’t care if he dies, only that she can go on the quest. And ok, maybe that could be written off as an immature twelve year old, if her actions in later books didn’t continually prove that she hadn’t changed or developed. I think another fundamental issue in her relationship with Percy is that she can never be wrong, Luke being the biggest example of this.

Percy, even with his history and past friendship with Luke, was able to look at things objectively to an extent. He says multiple times that Luke had a point. I honestly think if it had’ve just been Luke, if titans hadn’t of been involved, that Percy would’ve joined Luke. But that’s a whole other thing. I only bring it up because I think Luke particularly is the best example of Percy having far better judgement than Annabeth, who refuses to be wrong. Something that again is addressed within BOTL, when she challenges the Sphynx because of her pride, and is an asshole to Rachel because she doesn’t want to rely on another person and is jealous. She likes being the leader, she wants to be the person people rely on, but that has always comes naturally to Percy despite how much he himself hates it.

I personally would’ve far preferred Perachel to be canon than Percab*th. Percy is always stressed about Annabeth, about doing the wrong thing where with Rachel feels like he can be himself, not like he has to live up to some invisible standard he can’t ever hope to meet.

I also, as I’ve written about before when discussing Percab*th is that Annabeth is not an essential character to HOO, and that she could’ve easily been interchanged for someone more interesting and dynamically different. I think Percy was sidelined to try and give Annabeth more purpose in the story. I also think Percy is consistently put down, berated and underestimated. He literally has people thinking he’s a god when he first meets them, that isn’t someone who lacks power. I also think Annabeth has always been a little bit scared of Percy to certain degree. Or at least acutely aware that she would not be able to put a fight if Percy turned on her and he put in a tiny bit of effort.

I also Percy is never given enough or really any recognition of everything he did. That he took the prophecy so it wouldn’t go to Nico. That he turned down immortality, not for Annabeth, but because of a promise he made to Luke and his years long stance that nothing is worth living forever for. I think the nuance of Percy as a character, and his ability to connect with and understand characters like Like and Ethan is severely underdeveloped. He has never been blind to the gods faults, he didn’t do what he did in the name of the gods. He did it for the campers, for the demigods who’d carry out their parents burdens simply because they had the audacity to be born. Demigods doomed to die from the moment they’re born because of their parents, like him. I particularly think Percy is too far often used as a scapegoat for Nico’s issues and often either villainised or dumbed down into a himbo.

It’s ridiculous, since Percy has repeatedly shown himself to have both better judgment and better strategising skills than Annabeth. Percy is better than Annabeth, and he has far more power than she ever will.

Percy is such an amazing and nuanced character with so much room to explore different characteristics he’s shown at different times and he is too often sidelined to boost another character (most often Annabeth and Nico)

Overall I don’t really like Annabeth, and I’ve yet to hear a viable reason as to why what she did should be ok. And I truly believe HOO did a disservice to Percy by dumbing him down, and making him reliant on Annabeth.

I hope you like my answer! Thank you so much for asking I absolutely love getting questions and I also love a chat so please feel free to keep it coming!

[fanfic-obsessed]

Dawn of Hope

This is going to start in that weird place where we are taking canon and making it simultaneously better AND very much worse.  Also, as always, I may be ignoring or ignorant of some part of canon that contradicts this stuff, forgive me. 

While there are many changs we need to address, the biggest is that Anakin does not choose Palpatine, or Fall, during the fight between the Council and Palpatine (Also, because I truly believe that it is the point of no return for Anakin’s fall, he did not kill the Tuskens). This does not actually make anything better.  

Anakin’s refusal caused the three way fight to last a bit longer, but also ended with Mace Windu’s death. The Force began to scream that Anakin needed to get back to the temple immediately. Anakin disengages from the fight and escapes.  Palpatine let him go, since this was still in line with several of Palpatine's plans (I fully believe that Palapine had a plan for any eventuality). Palpatine calls for Order 66 and Anakin arrives back at the temple mere moments before the 501st.  Anakin is horrified to see his men firing on, and killing, the Jedi in the temple and ignoring his attempts to order them to stop (it is important to note that in this, there is no indication in the Force or their behavior why the clones have suddenly started shooting Jedi; also Fives report in this one was not intelligible enough-due to being drugged-to give either Anakin or Rex information about the chips).  His help gives the appearance that the temple can start evacuating (they rebuffed wave one) and Anakin is told by one of the temple guards that a group of initiates had been locked in the council chambers for safety, but they need a counselor to unlock the door to evacuate them.  

Anakin goes down and unlocks the chamber, and just as the initiates look up at him with hopeful eyes, believing that they have been saved…Anakin is knocked unconscious by the temple guard, who had been one of the guards that betrayed the Jedi. The guard then slaughtered the children (all of them, including Reva as the guard had not been as conflicted) and dragged Anakin away (Palpatine now intended to torture him into Falling) as the other traitor guards disabled the last of the protections for the temple, letting the clones come back in to kill everyone.

 Another change was that early in the war Cody took a hit to the head that, unbeknownst to everyone, broke the chip. The extra time it took for Palpatine to call for Order 66 meant that Obi Wan had reached the upper levels and that Cody had joined him there when the chips activated and every clone, except Cody, started trying to kill any Jedi (for apparently no reason).  Cody and Obi Wan are able to escape, but there is a part of Cody that will never forgive himself for the fact that they both had to kill some of his brothers to do so.  They are able to get to Coruscant, where they meet up with Yoda at the ruins of the Jedi temple.  They see the surveillance video (the clones attacking, the temple guards that betrayed them, Anakin being captured, the younglings being slaughtered). 

The next step is obviously to rescue Anakin. Now both Yoda and Obi Wan are self aware enough to admit that this would have been the goal for no other reason than that Anakin was part of their lineage. However realistically he is also the only other Jedi they know is still alive, a powerful fighter, and would be a devastating enemy if he could be coerced to fall (they do not know for sure that this is the goal, but there are only a few reasons to take Anakin alive). Knowing that they would need to rely on the Force to move quickly Cody is sent to collect Padme before she can be used against Anakin. 

By the time Yoda and Obi Wan find Anakin, he has been tortured but has not fallen. Obi Wan is able to escape with Anakin, though Yoda gives his life for them to do so.   Anakin injuries mean that his remaining flesh arm and his legs have to be amputated. The stress causes the twins to be stillborn and the measures needed to save Padme’s life remove her ability to have any other children.  

Obi Wan and Anakin are the last Jedi in the galaxy at this point. Through chance or circumstance everyone else died in the Purge(This includes Ahsoka. With the extra time and without Rex having knowledge of the chips, she is eventually killed by the clones; the fight did enough damage that the ship still crashed into that moon, killing everyone on board-including Maul).  They are only just able to get the mechanics to replace Anakin’s missing limbs, and the four keep on the move to lay low.  By the time both Padme and Anakin have healed from those first few days, 18 months have passed and the galaxy continues to grow darker. 

Bail Organa’s fledgling rebellion has been found out (a combination of the lack of a daughter had Bail focusing on the rebellion more, and moving just a hair too fast, and Palpatine not having Vader to deal with-both not spending time focused on his recovery and not needing an enemy to point Vader at one he has healed). Bail and Breha have been executed as warmongers and traitors with a Palpatine approved puppet installed as the new ruler of Alderaan. Any friends that any of the four might have had were swept up in the aftermath of the failed Rebellion. 

At the two year mark Palpatine, who no longer has any use for the Clones, as he had recruited a natborn army in the meantime, issues another Order, this time for the last remnants of the GAR to kill themselves. 

Cody is the last Clone of the GAR in the galaxy, and none of four of them know about the chip. 

These four have no friends, no help, and no hope. And they survive in this galaxy where they can rely only on each other for another 8 years.  

In that time neither Anakin nor Obi Wan fall. This is not due to some extra attachment to the light, but the fact that there is nothing the dark can offer them. How do you resurrect an entire culture? Who would they even try to bring back? Because they do not know about the chips, they do not have one person, even Palpatine, that they can blame or get revenge on. 

Also during these 8 years the four form a Force bond, tying their life forces together.  Though the bond is deliberate, and of the Light Side, none of them are quite sure if it is ‘If one dies, we all die’ or ‘we all have to die for one to die’. Frankly, in the galaxy they live in, they figure there is not much difference.  This bond does have the effect of slowing all of their aging to the slowest (Anakin, with his Force connection ages at one third the normal human rate once he reached maturity)

10 years after Order 66 and the Purge, our four feral survivors find an artifact that will take them to a new timeline.  It has not been used often, because there is no control over where or when they will be dropped, there is no way back, and most people do not want to chance that they will end up somewhere worse. Our four are not worried about worse, they know that they have the worst timeline, and they have no one to try and come back to. So they activate the artifact.

It drops them into the canon timeline, during A New Hope, on the Death Star,  just before Darth Vader strikes Obi Wan Kenobi. This derails Old Ben’s attempt at martyrdom. Darth Vader is immediately distracted by Padme Amidala, looking older than he remembered but younger than she should be (had she lived).

As they all recognized an older version of Obi Wan, and guessing that the tall being in black is the bad guy, the four dimension travelers grab Old Ben, the teeny boppers (Luke, Leia, and Han look unbelievably young to them) with the Wookie and the familiar droids (as none of them look like they belong on the Death Star) and hustled them onto to only ship that does not look imperial (A Corellian Freighter) and escape while Vader is staring at the spot where Padme Amidala had appeared. 

The only reason that they were not immediately shot out of the sky is that Vader realized that Padme was on that ship and made sure no one shot the Millenium Falcon. 

The Millenium Falcon, and everyone she holds, escapes. They take some time to make sure that they are not being followed before Han, with input from Leia, sets a course to the nearest Rebel Base. There is enough confusion that he does not even ask about payment. 

Then everyone turns to the four dimension travelers.  Obi Wan, the younger, looks at Old Ben and goes ‘Hello There’ in a tone that is distressingly flirty for a solid half the ship. Anakin rolls his eyes, whacks Obi Wan (the younger) upside the head, and goes ‘set up a threesome between yourself, you husband (Cody), and yourself later’. 

Old Ben looks far too considering for Luke and Leia’s piece of mind. 

It is Padme who introduces the four dimension travelers, with a brief overview that they were from a different timeline.  Upon Padme introducing Anakin, Luke perks up and goes ‘Oh, you’re my father’

Anakin practically squeals with excitement that he (Luke) must be one of the babies (Padme also got visibly excited and interested in the answer), and asks if he is Luke or Leia.  Luke somewhat blankly answers with his name. A moment passes then Luke goes ‘BABIES???’ At the same time Leia goes ‘LUKE OR LEIA???’

At some point in the midst of this chaos Luke manages to tell Anakin that the Anakin was killed by Darth Vader (and clarifies that Darth Vader was the tall fucker in black). 

Both Anakin and Obi Wan feel the wince in the force coming from Old Ben at that statement. Old Ben, for his part, fully expected to be dead before having to have this conversation on ‘from a certain point of view’ with his niece and nephew. He also did not expect to be having this conversation with another version of himself with three people he had loved and lost to decades earlier. 

Old Ben manages to get out a single ‘from a certain point of view’ before Anakin goes ‘Oh, other me is Vader. I Fell’

Old Ben agrees (which increased the Chaos quite a bit and it takes some time for those revelations to sink in). It is at this point here a minor, but somewhat critical misunderstanding occurs. Once Anakin found out that this universe’s version fell, he muttered that it must have been the torture. Anakin has made an assumption that this Anakin was also captured by the Guard and was tortured until he Fell. Old Ben hears this and assumes that his Anakin was tortured to fall at some point before he killed the younglings (in this one Old Ben never found out why his Anakin fell).  Neither are speaking directly enough about what had happened to catch onto the mistake (both had had time to come to terms with what happened, it still is deeply traumatic and neither really wants to talk about it), though it will be resolved quickly and without real drama. 

Padme asks about her own fate, given that it is clear that neither of her children recognize either of their parents by sight. Old Ben says she died in childbirth. Padme, very used to Obi Wan’s ‘from a certain point of view’, drily asked how much Anakin’s fall contributed to her death.  Old Ben winced and admitted to the choking and throwing. 

Old Ben also admits that he has not seen Cody since Utapau.  No one on the ship is aware of the chips, so no one knows to disagree when Cody goes ‘so I went insane with my brothers’. Old Ben, Cody, and Obi Wan compare notes and realize that the clones ‘going insane’ happened a bit later to Obi Wan then it did to Old Ben.  They come to the erroneous, but understandable, conclusion that Obi Wan’s presence when Order 66 went out (not that they know that is what happened) somehow kept Cody from going crazy. 

On the other side of the ship Padme and Anakin are making a concerted effort to get to know their now adult children. 

Then they arrive at the Rebel base and additional, hilarious chaos. The Rebellion expected the Corellian freighter carrying Leia Organa (and were ecstatic that Leia, at least, survived Alderaan destruction) with R2D2 and C3P0.  They neither expected nor did not expect Han, Chewbacca, and Luke. They very much did not expect the Corellian freighter to be carrying: Presumed dead General Anakin Skywalker, Very officially dead Padme Amidala, not one but two General Obi Wan Kenobi (Possibly dead-no one has seen or heard of him in a decade, still has the highest bounty in the Empire; Also visibly different ages), and Cody (who was supposed to be on a mission somewhere in the Cadavine sector and looking much younger than he should). 

Our four dimension travelers are abjectly overjoyed, as anyone they recognize has been dead a long time as far as they are concerned, to see the people of the rebellion. It is in this set of explanations that there are many revelations. Including, but not limited to: Vader’s fall was not from being tortured (Anakin posits that Vader chose to Fall to try and save Padme, then killed her anyway); The revelation about the chips in the Clones; The revelation of Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, twin children of Anakin and Padme. 

The Leaders of the Rebellion starts to recall any Force Sensitives, Clones, and anyone who the four dimension travelers would have recognized. There are many happy reunions (including Old Ben reuniting with the Older Cody; which eventually also results in a foursome with the younger Obi Wan and Cody) As soon as it is clear that the dimension travelers intend to stay, the Rebellion starts to plan how to use having 2 Obi Wans, 2 Codys, a non fallen Anakin, and a living Padme in their fight against the Empire (the propaganda potential alone is glorious).   None of them are really in the position to be on the frontlines, but there is still plenty they can help with.

Anakin does put his foot down, that they will not hide that they come from a different dimension. Some of the rebellion had talked at first at playing that the four had been put into some kind of status (since three of the four were presumed dead, and the fourth was also genetically identical to enough people that the stasis is realistic).  Anakin pointed out that doing that would essentially steal Old Ben and Older Cody’s identity. Plus, and this was the argument that actually worked, hearing that Anakin was a dimensional traveler from a timeline where Anakin chose not to fall AND did not cause his wife’s death would both piss Vader off and, possibly demoralize him.

Anakin and Padme take special missions to squash Vaders psych like a bug.

It works.

[strawberrymochin]

Springtime Fushiguros♪

Context-: exploring the memories of childhood of fushiguros, marking the spring time of you and satoru gojo.

Basically im traumatized by all the stuff going on in jjk universe, so imma create my own happiness.

The pink cherry petals covered the grounds, sweet smell lingering in the air, distant laughs of some family echoed from the field you were wandering in, thinking about the reason, he might have called you here.

Satoru gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to be alive suddenly called you last night, after having months of no conversation. He said he needed a favour from you, what on the earth could it be?

It couldn't be related to any sorcery since you weren't in this field, atleast now you weren't. Moreover, he has the potential to wipe out an entire country with his limitless. He is the first member in his clan to inherit six eyes, his birth distorted the balance of the world. What favour would he need from someone like you?

Or maybe it's the higher ups!

Your eyes widened, chest tightened, almost struggling to take a proper breath at this thought. There's no way this would happen. You had been carefull. Carefull not to let it out.

'Sup!' your thoughts were cut short by the voice of the white haired guy, as you turned to face him. He was in his regular student uniform. Eyes as deep as the mysterious blue sea peeked from the sunglasses. He had a playful face as always, though you sensed something off in it and you knew what it was. Others might not notice but you do. You always have.

'I might not be much of help yk right?' you smiled a bit at him nervous at what demand he might make.

'Ahh, it's not something like that. I'm not forcing you, but—' his voice trails, maybe finding right words, 'I would like you to take care of someone.' He hesitated a bit, rubbing his hand on his neck, his eyes directed to a bench on the field.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Two kids. A glum faced boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, and a cute girl who seemed a bit older than the boy. They are probably siblings.

You should have known he was never yours.

'Zeni'ns.' he said fixing his sunglasses. The girl smiled a bit at you which you gladly reciprocated, while the guy refused to glance you a look. 'Umm, what did you say?' you asked again, not paying much attention before, busy observing the kids. (Not to mention your heart which was breaking in pieces)

'They are zeni'ns.'

'Zeni'ns?? They are not your kids?'

Gojo be like-: ಠಿ⁠ヮ⁠ಠ

'I'm 18. How could you expect me to have my own kids?' he said being sceptical.

A brief wave of relief washed your nerves. 'Oh' you couldn't help but let out a chuckle at your overthinking.

'They are Fushiguros—' gojo started to explain when, 'you just said that they were zeni'ns.'

'Would you lemme finish? They are basically toji's kids. He took in his late wife's last name.' a shudder ran through your spine at the mention of his name. How can he be so calm while talking about it?

He continued, 'Before his death, he mentioned about his kid, Megumi. Megumi fushiguro. The kid is about to be sold to the zenin clan.'

'But he's just a kid!'

'yeah, I don't think none of us would want that. So, i would take care of that and the financial support of both Megumi and his step sister Tsumiki fushiguro. But the problem is I won't be there all the time to look at them, as I'm continuously assigned with new missions.'

'So, you want me to supervise? I can do that, but I can't be much to prote—' he cuts off your words.

'Nah! Don't worry about that. I will protect the three of you. I want us to raise them together. While we date.'

You could believe your ears, when he said the last part. You had always liked satoru gojo, and once even drunk confessed him, embarrassing yourself to death. He never answered that though. Everything after that took a form of such stormy blunder. Satoru had to go through all those horrible situations, losing someone very close to him. A memory you hate and desperately want to trade. Everything fell apart and you all drifted away. And when you decided to leave, for everyone's safety including yours, satoru wasn't there.

'kk. I will help you raise them.' you gladly accepted, shooting a kind look at the kids. This was a dream come true to you. A family. You desired it desperately, wanting to have a family, ever since you lost yours.

'Thanks. Move in with me then.'

'Sure.' you smiled to yourself.

And that was the first time you saw Megumi and Tsumiki fushiguro, taking them in, staring your new life with Satoru gojo.

A new trail of memories are yet to be traced in the springtime of your life.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 4/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

More on the siblings' program.

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Lucifer stifled a chuckle as he observed his brother's expression. If only Michael knew that Lucifer had already been informed of his impending demise. He's more shocked that Heaven might be the cause of his death.

Heaven's really keen on killing him, huh.

Lucifer: I'm immortal! You're being ridiculous.

Michael: And you're being a fool! These threads just made a divine move. This had never happened before!

Lucifer: Then why tell me, huh?! Last I checked, you and Heaven could barely give a rat's ass about whether or not I'm still alive.

Michael: Because believe it or not, I do still care about you! You're my little brother, Samael!

Lucifer: I said my name is L̴͎̭̥͎͊̀u̷̧̨̟̻͓͗̍c̷̢̪̱̄̀̊̎̀͝ì̷̘͚̰̖̦̱f̴̻̮̲̮͈͈͑̓̃̃̊e̸̫̒͑͒͊͗͆r̸̨̤̀̂̚͝ͅͅ!

Sue him if he couldn't control the fiery words that erupted from his mouth. Michael always had a knack for provoking him, intentionally or not.

Lucifer: And you have a funny way of showing it. Did you know that the Fall almost killed us?! Lily and I had to lay there, surrounded by darkness, bodies so burnt we couldn't move for weeks.

Despite the looming threat posed by the King of Hell, Michael refuses to back down. Instead, he straightens his posture and closes the distance between them, showing the unwavering protector of Heaven that he is.

Michael: You don't understand! I- it was such a hard decision! It was the best option! I'm Heaven's protector and-

Lucifer: You were my protector too!

The Archangel was taken aback, a rare moment of vulnerability revealing itself in his features. Lucifer, observing this reaction, knows he has struck a chord. Despite Michael's claims of caring for his family, it's evident that Heaven had, and always has been his top priority.

Michael thinks about a lot of things too. Like how everything would've turned out different if he was never given this duty- this purpose.

Michael: They were going to kill you.

Lucifer couldn't remember the last time he had heard his brother speak to him with such softness.

Michael: Your original punishment was death. They wanted you killed. By my blade. We begged them to reconsider. You should've seen it-

The warrior of Heaven laughs wetly.

Michael: -the Archangels of Heaven, on their knees in front of people other than our Lord. It took so many meetings for them to relent. That's why you and Lilith spent a long time held in the Garden.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Michael: So, I'm really sorry that we let you down.

Lucifer: Shut up, Michael.

His brother once again composed himself, his gaze turning cold as it met Lucifer's.

Michael: But if I had the chance to go back, I would do it all over again.

Of course. Heaven always comes first.

Lucifer: You should've killed me when you had the chance. And now you think you can beat me at my own game?

He attempts to crush the thread still held in his hand, its glow resembling the purest gold. It seems to almost be trying to talk to him, to reason with him like Michael every time they meet. But it all sounds like mockery to his ears.

He hates it.

Lucifer lets out a manic laugh.

Lucifer: Divine move? Divine move? You think you have any moves at all?!

He begins to yell at the threads.

Lucifer: Maybe then, Heaven could've killed that weak, naive angel. But me? ME?! Ì̶̢̤̉'̵͙͕͑M̷̱͋̀ ̵̬͌T̴̥͠͝H̸̫́̑E̶̳̠̐̎ ̴̠̣̎̐D̷̼̕E̵̢̳͆V̶̳̩̉̋Ì̶̬L̴̥̗̾ ̴̮͝F̸̝̓̀Ų̸̠͗̑C̵͚͗K̷̺̚̚I̵̠̋̕Ň̸͎͈G̵̘̔ ̵̤͛I̸̩͐N̷̥̰̋C̸͓̒̍A̴̙̓R̵͍͛N̴̤͎͠A̵͇̟̓Ṯ̴̯͊Ḙ̴͑̇,̴̰͆̑ ̵̤́ͅÝ̴̙̫̈́O̵͚͐͒U̵̙͂ ̷̱̆͜͝Ċ̸͍̌Á̷̰́N̸͉̈'̶͇̎͂T̵̠̒ ̶͖́K̶̛̲̮̆I̸͎̘͐̃L̴̟̙̔̿L̴̜̾͊ ̶̱̥̌M̵̳̕E̵͈̯͋́!

Lucifer's disguise falters, his emotions resonating through his disguise as his golden hair reverts back to the darkness Roo had cursed him with.

The threads began humming. Were they afraid of them? Of him? That's funny, Fate itself, afraid of him? He wonders if even Death would tremble in his presence.

Michael splutters in disbelief at the sight of Lucifer's transformed appearance.

Michael: Lucifer—what? Why do you look like that? What did you-

The younger doesn't grace his brother with an answer or allow him to finish. Instead, he summons Keekee once more and swiftly opens a portal back to Hell.

Lucifer: Don't worry, Mika. I won't die that easily because I'll be there to watch Heaven fall.

Nothing matters. Not his brother's shouts of concern, not the short thread, not Roo's cryptic words. What matters is Charlie and her future.

He'll defy Fate if he has to.

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Michael slumps on a chair in exhaustion after Lucifer left. He fears for the worst of Heaven and his brother's fates.

He grabs an orb from his pocket dimension and starts to recite and incantation to call his siblings. He knows he should tell the others, to discuss The Fates, Heaven, and Sa-Lucifer. Lucifer who is clearly hiding something.

But he hesitates.

'Knowing them, they would go down to Hell to confront Lucifer and it might just make things worse with their little brother than it already is. '

Before he could make a decision, there's a loud crash from beyond the door.

Michael: Hello?

He vaguely hears shushing on the other side and a bit of arguing. Slowly, he approaches the door. He grabs the knob and swings it open swiftly.

Michael: Gabriel, I told you not to-

Michael stops in surprise as he stares at his eavesdroppers. One lets out a squeak while the other saluted him.

'A young Seraph and a winner?'

Emily: Archangel Michael! We-uh- we can explain!

Sir Pentious: Your Heavenly Grace!

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A Shameless and Teen Wolf reference??

I miss season 3b. Nogitsune Stiles was the best villain to come out of that show.

Edited some stuff! Moved a few dialogues